Disclaimer: Nothings mine, except the plot and ridiculous villain

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, this chapter was a pain to write. But hey, really long chapter. I hope that makes it up to you.

Okay a BIG THANK YOU to all the awesome people that take the time to review! I read some of them and I think 'Are they even reading the same story I wrote?' because they are so awesome and so filled with love that I really can't believe it from time to time. I know that I'm not a the worst writer out there but you make it look as if I'm a great writer and that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside and lifts my spirit like you wouldn't believe. I can't say enough how much I thank and love you all!

A lot of that credit and nice words belong to my awesome Beta KTWESTERNA of course. She makes this story so much more worthwhile, believe me.


Their Day in Baltimore


Chapter 13

- or: Some Things Never Change -

While Tony and Leo shook hands for the first time, Gibbs fought his way through the crowd and thought about the change his opinion of the younger man had undergone

The boy had grown on him during the past three days like he'd never thought possible. The knowledge about DiNozzo's childhood and his own mistakes had left a crack in the tight armor he'd built around himself. And the more time he spent with the man, the larger it got, whether he wanted it to or not. The grim determination to keep DiNozzo at arms lengthwasn't gone, but it had faded considerably. For the first time since meeting him again, Gibbs had allowed himself to get to know the young man that had been a little boy once upon a time.

Oh sure, he'd already conceded that DiNozzo was a good investigator, but until now he hadn't allowed himself to really see that Tony was a damn fine human being as well. That he liked spending time with the young man and that his wicked sense of humor actually managed to tease a quick grin out of him more often than not.

But he hadn't only watched. He'd talked with other officers as well, asked them about the Italian and had tried to gain information on him without Tony noticing what he was doing. Much to his chagrin a lot of Tony's colleagues had nothing positive to say about the young man. They downplayed his achievements, criticized his methods and more or less accused him of using Daddy's money to get where he was. The last remark had Gibbs especially convincedthat there was not an ounce of truth to their words. Pathetic envy clouded their opinions and it repulsed the Agent to know that these people were actually police men and women. People who were meant to protect others, not judge them.

But he'd also talked with people who genuinely cared for DiNozzo. More than one face had lightened up when he'd asked them about the young detective. They had told him stories about a funny and brave guy who liked to play pranks but who'd also pulled some pretty risky stunts while doing his job. Stories had left Gibbs literally speechless and made him wonder just how far DiNozzo would go to ensure the safety of others.

But then the old Agent would remember a little boy who had attacked a grown man to stop a kidnapping. Who had tagged along when Gibbs had told him to stay in the hotel. Who had gotten himself kidnapped on purpose to rescue a little girl he only knew by name.

And then he would realize, that some things apparently never changed.

The fact that his view of Anthony DiNozzo had changed so drastically after he'd discovered Tony's less than perfect, and probably abusive, childhood and his own error of judgment, bothered him. He was afraid that guilt clouded his view and judgments.

That wouldn't be fair to Tony. The kid didn't want nor needed pity, otherwise he would have told someone about the life he'd led, about the hardships he'd endured. But he never said anything, never hinted at something. Gibbs had been about to confront him a couple of times but always found that the time wasn't right.

And a small part of him still wondered if it was even his business. It wasn't like they were friends or anything. Their relationship had become better, less tense, but it was still missing that easy going camaraderie they had shared many years ago. Although they weren't friends really, they were... something. Gibbs didn't know what yet, but he was determined to find out.

That would have been a lot easier though if there hadn't been that damn guilt eating away at him.

Intellectually he knew that, while he was feeling guilty, it had nothing to do with the fondness he suddenly felt for the boy. Ducky had made it abundantly clear that the truth had merely opened his eyes and enabled him to realize that his feelings for the boy hadn't really changed over the years, that he'd just buried and ignored them until now.

After his conversation with Abby, Gibbs had decided that maybe – just maybe - Ducky wasn't so wrong after all. And that maybe, he needed to talk to someone a lot more level-headed than him.

So he had apologized to the man the only way he knew how without actually having to say the words; he'd brought coffee.

Ducky had smiled that knowing little smile of his, the same smile that had driven Gibbs up the wall just a day ago, and taken a sip of the hot liquid. He'd nodded appreciatively, a sure sign that he'd accepted the apology as wordlessly as Gibbs had offered it. Forgiveness was easily given when it came to the old ME, but only if he knew you were serious.

And Gibbs sharing his precious coffee? Well, you couldn't get more serious.

Gibbs had immediately shared the new information Abby had gathered and his suspicions regarding Tony's childhood. The doctor's smile had dropped by the end of his recap, leaving only a sad, thoughtful frown.

'Oh Jethro', Ducky had muttered, 'We were quite clueless, weren't we?'

But Gibbs had just shaken his head with an angry snort because that was the problem; he hadn't been clueless, at least not entirely.

He had suspected that something was wrong. The word abuse had even crossed his mind from time to time.

But instead of acting on it, he had taken a child by its word and simply turned his back. Okay, so his suspicions had been based on nothing but mere assumptions and Gibbs thoughts had pretty much revolved around Shannon and his newborn daughter, but that was no excuse, was it?

No, he hadn't been clueless. He had been careless and now he had to live with the knowledge that that carelessness had caused a child to suffer.

Evidence was still lacking of course but Gibbs had no doubts that DiNozzo Sr. had seriously damaged that young man one way or another.

A dead giveaway of that damage was the way Tony seemed to shy away from touch. It was nothing glaringly obvious and there were the occasional slap on the back or handshake from time to time, but Tony never initiated the contact. He couldbare to be touched, but he did so with obvious reluctance.

And then there was something that Gibbs had already noticed fifteen years ago: His inability to accept kindness.

There had been many little signs that had brought that fact home for Gibbs but one situation stood out the most.

A young female officer had celebrated her birthday and brought cake. Tony had been in the labs at the time she hadshared it with the other detectives, but she'd saved him a piece and made sure that no one else touched it. When he'd returned, Tony had eyed the cake with a blank look on his face before that morphed into honest confusion. It had been obvious to anyone that was watching that Tony didn't understand why she'd gone to the trouble ofsave him a piece of cake when she didn't have to. The whole day he'd regarded the chocolate cake with barely hidden distrust, almost as if he expected it to blow up into his face. The sight had tightened Gibbs throat with some indescribable emotion.

The concept of kindness seemed to baffle DiNozzo, at least when it was directed at him. Every time he got to see that flash of insecurity in Tony's eyes, Gibbs wanted to make a trip to Long Island and visit his old 'friend' DiNozzo Sr. and have a long 'talk' with the man.

But before he could do that, he had to find Tony and make sure that he wouldn't have to identify his body in the morning -

When Gibbs finally managed to break through the crowd – with excessive use of his elbows - it was just in time to see the barkeeper hastily unlock the back exit. He got a brief glimpse of brown hair and a cheeky grin that he already associated with DiNozzo before the young detective disappeared through the door, followed closely by a taller man.

A shout left his lips, a shout full of panic and anger. There was no mistaking the situation he was witnessing and the implications it left. He had to stop them and he had to do it now.

But he hadn't planned on the music. Thedeafening music thatdrowned him out and completely swallowed up his shout like it was never there. The distance between him and his destination didn't help either. Only thepeople standing nearby seemed to have heard him, since they backed away from him with expressions that varied between surprise and apprehension.

Any other day he might have been proud that his voice alone was able to ignite fear in others but not today. Because what good was thatwhen the only person who really needed to hear you wasoblivious? All the lung capacity in the world wouldn'thelp right now if Tony didn't hear him.

And he didn't.

Gibbs cursed under his breath when the door closed behind the young Italian, shielding him from view.

Why couldn't he have been a bit faster? Why couldn't Tony have waited a little bit longer? And why, goddamn it, couldn't some things just work out without disaster preceding?

But what was he thinking anyway?! Things were never easy when Anthony DiNozzo was involved, he should know that by now.

Gibbs wasn't a man who enjoyed saying 'I told you so', but tonight he felt that he could make an exception. Because he had known that this was a bad idea and he had told them so, repeatedly. And now he was proven right, because Tony had left the bar with a stranger who could be their murderer. God knew whether he would reach them in time before the young man was herded into a van and disappeared without a trace.

Well, until they found his body in the morning at least.

And what was that boy thinking anyway? Didn't he ever learn that you never go with a suspect if there is no back up available? Was he born with a genetic defect that prevented him from developing self preservation and common sense?

Gibbs was furious as he approached the counter, but not too furious to ignore the fear and helplessness that seized his heart all the same. His blood had run cold when he'd watched Tony disappear and he'd been ready to rip anyone apart that got in his way. Preferably a certain supposedly innocent barkeeper who was obviously hiding some skeletons in his closet.

But before he could commit manslaughter he had to find Tony and beat some sense into him.

The Agent still couldn't believe that he'd lost the kid. He had stayed near Tony all night and hadn't let him out of his sight. Until some drunken guy had bumped into him rather forcefully, that is. It had taken him only a few seconds to straighten himself and glare after his assailant but when he'd turned back to Tony, it had been to discover that the young detective was gone. The blonde he'd flirted with was still there – already chatting with the next guy – but Tony had been nowhere to be seen.

It had felt like an eternity but was probably just a few minutes until he'd found the boy. But just as he'd discovered him, he was already gone again, disappearing through a back exit that was merely being covered by two probies.

The thought that he should probably call for backup himself flitted through Gibbs mind – especially since he didn't know where the other two detectives were that were supposed to be around somewhere - but he didn't want to waste time by searching for his cell phone. They probably wouldn't reach the Italian in time anyway. No, he would have to follow them using the same way the had gone.

And only one person had what he needed for that.

The barkeeper didn't know what hit him when he was suddenly practically dragged over the counter to find himself face to face with one very pissed off, snarling man.

"Keys. Now."


Tony was starting to get worried.

'A little late for that, isn't it?' he berated himself and leaned heavily against the dumpster to his right. The stench of old food and vomit that wafted out of it managed to make him feel even dizzier but his legs were shaking so bad by now that he knew he would kiss the ground if he didn't have something to hold on to. Leo had offered an arm when he'd noticed how pale Tony was suddenly becoming but the young man hadn't been fooled by the fake worry and refused. A part of him knew that, once he let Leo grab his arm, the man wouldn't let go. At least not until he deposited his corpse of course.

They had walked through a long corridor until they'd finally stepped out into the dark alley. The fresh air had helped Tony clear his head for a second but the blurry edges around his vision returned all too soon, giving the world a gray edge.

He would have kicked himself if he hadn't been too weak to lift his foot. This wasn't the first time he had been drugged during an undercover mission but every time he had promised himself that it wouldn't happen he had drunk that Coke before he had known that Leo had an accomplice, it didn't make him feel any less of a failure.

"Stupid Tony. Stupid." he slurred with a frustrated growl. Leo was by now just standing by, watching him with fond amusement. That guy was obviously content to just wait for the drug to kick in and knock Tony out completely. He didn't even pretend to be concerned anymore.

Tony's world was spinning. A wheel of colors in front of his eyes going round and round that made him want to puke. He wondered what Mr. Bartender had given him but soon realized that he really didn't care. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer and though he'd never admit it, he was terrified of being unconscious around Leo. The man was seriously giving him the creeps, just standing there and staring like he had all the time in the world.

And he probably did. The guys who were supposed to cover the back were no where to be seen and Tony doubted that they would be coming back any time soon.

'Probably heard a noise or having a coffee break. Just my luck.' he thought while he felt himself slide to the floor.

No, if he wanted to survive this he'd have to safe himself.

But that was easier said than done. His limbs felt like pudding. Besides he'd probably have trouble fighting Leo if he wasn't half asleep and feeling as weak as a kitten. He had a gun hidden in his ankle holster but there was no way he would be fast enough to draw it before Leo jumped him. His hand already felt numb and uncoordinated.

And he was tired, so very tired. Maybe he could just close his eyes for a second, recharge his batteries. Only a little-

He startled and his closed eyes ripped open again when he felt something sharp poke into his butt. It took him a while to register that he was sitting on the floor, that he must have slid down fully while he'd drifted off. He soon realized that he was actually sitting in a pile of glass or something. Probably a broken bottle that hadn't found its way into the dumpster.

The sharp shard sticking into his butt wasn't exactly all that comfortable, but he was instantly grateful for the rude awakening when he noticed that Leo had inched closer while he'd started to fall asleep. Now the man stopped in his tracks and watched him cautiously. Tony wondered why the guy didn't just carry him off already – he was certainly in no position to fight – but pushed that oddity to the back of his mind.

The sharp pain had brought him a few precious moments of clarity but he was already slipping again, the blurry vision returning with a vengeance. And the fatigue of course. But it had been long enough to give him an idea.

He kept his gaze focused on the stock still man in front of him, trying to capture his attention so he wouldn't look down and see Tony's left hand blindly fumbling over the ground.

"Why do this?" Tony asked and didn't even try to hide the weariness in his voice.

At first it didn't seem like Leo would answer but then his face broke into something that was probably meant to be a reassuring smile.

"Don't concern yourself with that, buddy. I promise you won't feel a thing. I'm not a monster."

Tony seriously doubted both statements but said nothing. No need to aggravate the guy into doing something rash. His fingers were still searching and he was starting to panic. He was blinking rapidly by now to clear his vision and keeping his eyes open but it wasn't working too well.

'Where are you?' he chanted silently. 'Where are you, come on.'

Tony decided to feign ignorance. Everything to keep the man talking and not acting.

"Are you going to kill me?" He made his voice quiver but he was embarrassed to admit that he didn't have to try too hard. Tony felt close to the edge now. Just a few more seconds and he would plunge into the darkness and never get out again. He was never more certain of something before in his life.

Leo looked a little shocked and for some reason Tony didn't think he was pretending. "Oh I hope not. You see, I just need your colors. I am an artist you know and I want to paint something that will take everyone's breath away. That will leave everyone in awe and tears. Just like the great Da Vinci did." He closed his eyes and a blissful sigh escaped him.

Tony had barely heard what he'd said. Leo's voice seemed to be far away now and the man himself was just a dark, moving shape. The young detectives movements were getting slower and he was rapidly loosing hope when his fingers finally touched something. It was cold and smooth, but most of all it was sharp.

Tony felt like cheering as his fingers closed around the big shard he'd finally found. He squeezed with all his might and when the white hot pain shot through his arm and the blood began to flow, he felt the drugs loosing their hold on his body. The adrenaline that pumped through his limbs gave him strength and the weariness faded to a more manageable level. His vision was still poor but now he could at least move.

A panicked voice in the back of his head whispered something about infections and tetanus but he blocked that out. He could worry about the diseases he just caught when he was still alive tomorrow.

Although he was more awake now he didn't move a muscle. If anything Tony slumped even more and peered through heavy-lidded eyes while he listened to Leo's crazy babble. He needed to wait for the right moment and he needed to lull the murderer into a false sense of security.

"But I can only draw great things if I have great colors. The last two had good colors but they weren't good enough and I got angry. I had to kill them but if you are lucky I won't have to kill you. You just need good colors."

Tony had no idea what that lunatic meant with colors but he was pretty sure that no ones colors were ever going to be good enough for him. That was the problem with psychopaths. They thought they could stop if they just found what they needed, but they never would. Their own urge to kill would always prevent that.

Whatever Leo's obsession was, Tony decided that he couldn't wait much longer. The adrenaline rush was already decreasing and the tiredness was creeping back into his body with a persistence that worried him greatly.

With a heavy heart the Italian closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. He didn't like letting Leo out of his sight but his other senses were on high alert, especially his hearing. He listened for even the tiniest sounds and after what felt like an eternity he heard shuffling in front of him. Drawing closer.

Tony suppressed the urge to hold his breath and bite his lips, something he did from time to time when he was particularly tense. Instead he opted to bite his tongue while he listened to Leo coming closer. Finally he felt a shadow fall over him but he waited a precious second before he moved as well.

He acted with a swiftness that surprised even himself. Lightening-fast he stuck with his legs without taking the time to open his eyes. The goddess of luck looked down on himand instead of meeting air, his feet made contact with Leo's shins. There was a pained shout, followed by a grunt which finally prompted Tony to open his eyes.

Leo was on the floor laying on his side. He had a gash on the side of his head and his eyes were unfocused. Nonetheless, and much to Tony's dismay, the man was already attempting to stand up again. Leo's movements were sluggish and he was constantly falling back down again but Tony knew that it would be only a matter of time before the man was on his feet again. And judging by the murderous curses that fell from his lips the whole time he also knew that he shouldn't be here by the time Leo succeeded.

That thought was all he needed to finally break from the paralysis that had gripped him. With his uninjured hand he grabbed the edge of the dumpster and slowly hauled himself to his feet. For a moment his grip threatened to slip but Tony knew that he would never find the strength to try again if he went down now, so he held on for dear life. After many agonizing seconds he was finally standing but Tony almost wished that he wasn't.

The rush the pain had given him was definitely gone and in its wake he was feeling even more weak and dizzy than before. The nausea was new though and he briefly entertained the thought of emptying his last meal all over the bastard that was still kneeling in front of him but soon reasoned that he didn't have the time, no matter how good it would make him feel. His move had surprised Leo, but in no way incapacitated him.

He forced himself to take a few steps but as soon as his support, the dumpster, was gone he felt himself swaying dangerously from side to side. Too late he realized that he wouldn't be able to stay upright by himself. His world turned black for a second before the pain his his knees as they hit the ground brought him back from the edge.

It was a slippery edge though and Tony didn't waste any more time. Nerveless fingers reached for his hidden gun while wary eyes watched Leo slowly getting to his feet. Just as his soon-to-be murderer got to his feet he finally managed to pull it free and the reassuring weight in his palm sent a jolt of enormous relief through his body.

The sight of Leo advancing with a scowl that rivaled Gibbs' did not.

Tony's arms were like a lead weight when he lifted them and pointed the muzzle at Leo. They trembled with the effort of holding them up, but his vulnerable position on the floor with the nutcase looming over him gave him the strength he needed to keep them up.

"Freeze!" His voice was raspy and not at all intimidating but Leo actually stopped, blinking stupidly at the gun and then at Tony. A look of confusion crossed his face before it turned into a sneer. He spit out and Tony was delighted to see that it was mingled with blood.

"Damn pigs! Always have to get in the way, don't you? Should kill you right now, pigs don't have good colors anyway."

"You could try." Tony challenged but his voice was too soft by now, too feeble. Leo certainly didn't seem impressed.

A feral grin stretched the Leonardo da Vini fanatic's face. "Don't need to, pig. Just have to wait until you finally say 'Bye bye' and go to sleep. And then I'm gonna gut you nice and slow." He licked his lips in anticipation. "Oh you're gonna be a fine peace of art. Too bad you won't be able to see it."

Tony swallowed heavily but kept any signs of fear from his face. "Or I'll just shoot you right now."

Leo tapped his foot,a huge almost friendly laugh bursting from his lips. "Oh but I'm not threatening you per se, am I? It wouldn't be self defense, but murder and you are a pig and pigs don't commit murder, do they? And," he raked his eyes over Tony's trembling form and snorted, "I doubt you'd be able to hit me anyway."

Before Tony could come up with something to say to that, a new voice broke the silence.

"He may not, but I definitely will."

Only his training kept Tony from whirling around and gaping at the figure that had obviously followed them and appeared in the open back door. Leo did though and his face became ghostly pale when he saw another man pointing a gun at his head. A man that was obviously not drugged and that – by the look on his face – had no qualms about shooting him point-blank, self defense be damned.

"Took you long enough to get here Agent Gibbs." Tony snapped but inside he was incredibly grateful that Leo and him had been too distracted to notice Gibbs arrival. He spared a brief thought for the bartender and wondered if the man was still alive but realized that he didn't care. He just wanted this nightmare to end,go home and sleep for the next three days.

The next few minutes passed in a blur for the young detective. He was aware of Gibbs voice, shouting, heard Leo's placating pleading, saw the shape of one man forcing the other down, but no details managed to pierce through the fog that suddenly clouded his mind. Only when a gentle hand forced his still raised arms down, did he realized that he'd been practically frozen in place, pointing his gun into thin air.

He caught a brief glance of Leo, laying on his chest with his hands handcuffed behind his back, before Gibbs face filled his vision. The expression on the other man's face was unreadable, but that probably had a lot to do with the dark spots that danced in front of Tony's eyes.

"You okay." Gibbs spoke slowly and clearly and Tony gave a slight nod, still not quite believing that he was still alive.

"Good." Gibbs growled and then his hand was up and even in his poorly state Tony knew exactly what was about to happen. So he really wasn't surprised when the hand connected with the back of his head for a rather forceful slap.

"Do you even know how stupid that was?" Gibbs roared, gripping Tony's shoulder tightly and shaking him a little. "You could have died! What's going on in that head of yours? Can't I let you out of my sight for just one second without finding you at gun-point?"

It was a dressing down that would have made others cower in fear but Tony barely heard it. His head was still smarting a little but it was a bittersweet pain. It revived memories he'd thought long forgotten. And it made him realized just how much he'd missed worried Gibbs and his very unique way of showing his concern.

How much he'd missed that little slap to the back of his head.

He couldn't help the huge, blinding smile that broke his face as he stared at Gibbs. The Agent looked stumped before he furrowed his brow in irritation.

"What are you smiling about?"

Tony's smile became even wider if that was even possible. "Aw, just nice to know that some things never change, you know?!"

He didn't hear Gibbs response since he finally lost his battle with consciousness. But as he fell into the darkness he realized that the thought wasn't nearly as frightening anymore, now that he knew that Gibbs was there to catch him.

TBC


Okay, overly fluffy at the end, but I couldn't help myself. :)

So, there is the headslap, finally! You like? *looks AZGirl's way*

So yeah, lots of you expected kidnappedTony but I already wrote him the last time and I didn't want to be overly repetitive so you get 'seriouslyintroublebutsavedbyGibbsTony' :)