a/n - Wow, lots of people asking for me to update this weekend. I didn't know that many people liked the story. Yeah, after rereading this chapter I upped the rating just to be safe. Enjoy.

Tony stared out the window, the pizza box ignored on his desk. Ziva came over to stand behind him. "Starving yourself will not help McGee."

"He's been out there for days, Ziva. Who knows how bad he has it, if he's eating, where he's sleeping. The whole East Coast is suppose to get hit with snow this week. He doesn't even have a coat with him." Ever since Abby found the remnants of Tim's coat in the burned out car, the image of his Probie huddled against the cold in an abandoned box car had haunted his dreams. "He's not trained for this, Ziva."

"I know." She stepped closer and leaned her head against his shoulder just as they were both head slapped.

"Don't you go giving up on him, either one of you." Gibbs continued past them and sat at his desk. "Remember, we've heard from him and he's alive. Now let's find Cvetko's contact so we can get McGee home."

Tony followed him, Ziva at his heels. "How did he sound, Boss?"

"Yes, Gibbs, you never told us. Did he sound hungry or cold?"

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up at them. "How does one sound hungry, Ziva? He said that they safe for the moment. We're just going to have to trust that he knows what he's doing."

-NCIS-

McGee was just bringing the computer online when Marshall Wallace arrived. "I trust that everything is to order?"

"Yes, thank you." Three separate screens scrolled data across them as he worked to fine tune the system.

Wallace had a steely look in his eye. "Hunt those bastards down, make sure no other family went through what we did."

"I will, sir, but first I need to securely mask our location. If they find me before I find them..."

"Understood, son. I'll let you get back to work. Just so that you know, the employees have been informed of Mr. Reynolds' attempted theft and they are aware that you are the one responsible for the recovery. You're quite their hero, since most of that eight million was the employee retirement fund."

"Guess that explains the beaming faces when the computer arrived."

-NCIS-

By morning McGee had a series of false trails and trap doors to stop anyone who was trying to track his backtrace. He was running a final diagnostic on his plan when breakfast arrived along with the doctor and Wallace's person tailor. The doctor was pleased, the tailor had a rack of clothes for alterations and the food was divine.

Deemed recovered enough to lose the IV, Kort threw on the matching silk robe as he joined Tim at the table. Over fresh fruit, pastries and Southwestern style omelets they discussed their strategy for the search. Kort was satisfied that McGee had it well in hand and so he sat back to enjoy the view. While his pajama pants and robe were a deep red silk, Tim's were a rich blue but, like Kort, he had his robe loosely tied around his waist, giving a good view of his chest. The contrast continued as Tim's chest had no body hair, while Kort had plenty to spare. For not the first time since all this had started, Trent wondered what it would feel like to have the younger man under him, his legs wrapped around Kort's waist. Never had he strayed onto that side of the fence, he'd kept it locked away until the day they'd spent at the Blue Moon, now he couldn't get it out of his head.

Tim tried to focus on his food, but his gaze kept creeping up to look at Kort as the desire to run his fingers through the thick pelt of hair on that chest increased. There was more than one reason he'd never come out and told DiNozzo about the blackjack. The second reason was that his gambling buddies all knew he was bi. He dated women because society, his family and his team expected him to, but to Tim McGee there was nothing better than riding a strong man, milking his body for every pleasure possible. Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, he gulped down the last few bites and returned to the computer.

When lunch arrived, Tim was deep in his work and didn't even look up when Kort went out into the main room and greeted Dalton and the bellhop. Locking the door behind them, Trent rolled the cart over to the table. "Hey, you ready to take a break and eat?"

"Can't."

Kort didn't recognize anything on the screens, but he wanted McGee to eat while the food was hot, so he cut it into small pieces and carried the plate over to Tim. "It's a salmon flatbread. You should really eat."

Tim didn't even look away from the screens. "Smells good, but I've got an active trace." Kort watched for a minute as Tim busily worked the mouse and the keyboard. Knowing it was the only way to get some food in the younger man, he picked up one of the cut pieces and fed it to him.

They quickly fell into a routine as Kort learned his rhythm of working. The edge pieces were crunchy, but once they were eating further into the bread, the sauce was thicker and Tim would occasionally lick Kort's fingers as he ate.

It wasn't until the last piece that Tim realized what he was doing, just as his tongue circled Trent's fingertip. "Sorry." He really wasn't, and Kort wasn't either as they shared a smile.

By mid-afternoon Kort was getting restless. Up until this case, he thought he was pretty good with a computer, but watching Tim made him realize he was a rank amateur. He'd been content watching McGee work until the younger man started nibbling on his lower lip. The arrival of new clothes and some fresh coffee distracted him long enough to let McGee continue working unmolested.

"Got'em."

Kort was instantly on his feet and leaning over McGee. "Show me."

McGee had found enough that it took a full twenty minutes to even skim the data. "It's not going to be pretty when this goes down."

"That's the understatement of the century. You're sure this goes to the aide's desk and not the senator's?"

Tim smiled as he leaned back against Kort before bringing up another window. "The data only goes to Senator Hawke's aide, but the money..."

Kort saw it. "The money goes straight to the senator."

"I don't know if the aide is helping him or not, but either way he's been set up to be the fall guy. The other players are minor in comparison."

"You've got to love politics." Kort watched as McGee compressed and encrypted the files before embedding them in some landscape photos of a sunset in Florida. Tim next set up a fake email account in the name of Eleanor Vance and titled the emails vacation pictures.

"I guarantee you somebody is watching all the incoming email right now."

"Clever, Tim, very clever. Is there a real Eleanor Vance?" Kort squeezed Tim's shoulders.

"Yep. Of course she's about eighty five years old, doesn't actually own a computer and has never been outside the city of Detroit – but she bakes a mean lemon bar."

Laughing, Kort dropped his forehead down onto the top of Tim's head. "I do not even want to know how you know that. You going to let Gibbs know this is on the way?"

The emails were sent before Tim turned the phone back on.

-NCIS-

His team would say that nothing ever made Leroy Jethro Gibbs jump, but the vibration of the burn phone in his pocket was close. Now that the squad room was secure, he didn't hesitate to open it. A text had him up on his feet and heading upstairs, Tony and Ziva right behind him.

Tell Vance, Eleanor says hi.

Enjoy vacation pics

Call me.

Gibbs didn't even slow down as he passed Pamela in the outer office. "Check your email, Leon."

Vance looked up, startled even as he was pulling up his email program. Gibbs leaned past him and pointed out the messages. It took Vance a few moments to realize the picture files were too big for the sunsets they were looking at. "He hid something in the pictures. Get Miss Sciuto up here to extract the files."

The Director gladly gave up his chair for Abby to work. It wasn't long before the printer was spitting out pages. As soon as he understood what they were looking at, Gibbs pulled the phone back out and dialed.

"We got it."

Good. How soon can you move on it?

Gibbs looked over the lists of places and people. He wanted all of them, not just the one at the top. "Gonna take some time to put an operation in place. I want to take them all down at the same time. Are you someplace secure?"

Yeah, we're safe.

Tony leaned close, wanting to hear his friend's voice for himself. "You sure? You're not going hungry, are you?" There was a slight laugh before Tim spoke again.

Don't worry, Tony. We're warm, we're safe and we're well fed. We can wait it out here and continue to monitor their activity.

Gibbs still wasn't comfortable risking a long call. "Twenty-four hours until the next check-in. Keep your head down, all right?"

Be careful, they're not going to go down without a fight.

Once the call ended, the team started formulating a plan to end the case and bring McGee and Kort back safely.

-NCIS-

"Now what?" Kort continued to rub Tim's shoulders, enjoying the chance to touch the younger man.

Tim was practically purring as he leaned into the strong hands. "Now we wait."

The robe loosened and Kort was able to slide his hands against skin instead of fabric. "You're tense. How about a nice hot shower to relax?"

"Yeah, that sounds really good." Tim stood and decided to take a chance. "You going to join me?"

Kort froze as he stared into the trusting eyes. They'd been heading this direction for forever, it seemed, but this was a big step. He hadn't a clue what McGee had planned, but for the first time in a very long time he was okay with not knowing. "Yes, yes I am."

"Have you ever?" When Kort shook his head, Tim smiled and took his hand, walking backwards to lead him into the large, opulent bathroom. "I'll make it good for you, I promise."

-NCIS-

"We have been betrayed." Cvetko threw his glass against the wall, vodka splattering against the brick. "It is time to retrieve the rockets before something else goes wrong."

"What about the codes?"

Cvetko glared at his man. "We will get them, do not worry. However, no one double crosses me, Nikolai, no one."

-NCIS-

Without a word, Tim slipped the robe off Kort's shoulders before untying his waistband and watching the red silk drop to the floor. Smirking just a little, Trent did the same for Tim, leaving them both naked. Once in the shower, Tim positioned them so the water was not hitting the almost healed wound on Kort's back.

Trent Kort considered himself an expert in seducing women as it was a part of his job far too often. To have the tables turned so completely on him was a new experience and he reveled in it. Soapy hands combed through his chest hair, as thumbs rolled his nipples. Swept away by the sensations, he wasn't prepared when Tim dropped to his knees in front of him. He didn't want to climax so soon and pulled back, gasping.

"Too much."

"This is Vegas, there's no such thing as too much. We're just getting started, so let me take the edge off for you." Without giving him time to argue, Tim swallowed him down and started working him with his throat. It didn't take long before Kort locked his knees and shouted out his completion.

Tim knew his new lover was still recovering, so he turned off the water and grabbed towels off the heated towel rack. Tenderly, he dried Kort's face before patting the rest of him dry and taking him to bed.

If Kort worried about being up for round two, watching Tim kneel over him as he prepared himself took care of everything.

"Damn."

"Like what you see?" Tim bent down, one hand on each side of Trent's head, until they were only inches apart.

Kort reached up and let his hands wander. "Oh, yeah. You always this bossy in bed?"

"Don't want you to hurt yourself, so I'll do the heavy lifting tonight." Tim reached down and rolled the latex sheath into place. Seconds later Kort gasped as the velvety heat surrounded him.