Tony DiNozzo Hates Valentine’s Day






EMAIL: Annie


Tony DiNozzo hated Valentine’s Day. The knowledge of that would have made his boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, snort with laughter. Tony DiNozzo, self-professed Romeo, hates Valentine’s Day… yeah, right, pull the other one, DiNozzo.


It was true though… at least it had been ever since Tony had woken up one morning a year or so ago, after spending yet another lonely night on Gibbs’ couch while his apartment was being fumigated, with the completely out of the blue revelation that he was head over heels in love with Jethro Gibbs, Mr. Sex-on-legs himself, the object of Tony’s erections.


Tony sighed louder than he’d meant to and glanced furtively across the bullpen to see if Gibbs had noticed. Well, d’oh, of course he had. Tony actually wondered sometimes if Gibbs had supersenses or something, like that Sentinel guy on that TV show Tony sometimes watched. In fact, Tony was a little surprised that Gibbs hadn’t yet picked up on his obvious state of arousal whenever the Boss got inside his senior agent’s personal space, or touched him, whether with a sharp headslap or with one of those oddly tender touches that Gibbs occasionally bestowed when Tony was sick or hurt. Tony kept his eyes focused on the monitor in front of him as he pondered that conundrum. Gibbs always seemed to know when he was coming down with some bug, usually before Tony knew himself, especially since Tony’s run-in with the plague so how come he’d never picked up on the signs of sexual interest that Tony assumed were probably emanating from his very turned-on body whenever Gibbs put that surprisingly gentle hand on Tony’s forehead or shoulder, or for that matter, whacked him on the back of the head.


“You okay, DiNozzo?”


Tony jumped as Gibbs spoke from right in front of him and looked up guiltily. “Sure, Boss. Fine. Just thinking.”


“Don’t strain yourself,” Gibbs said with that wicked grin that melted Tony’s heart every time it was turned in his direction. “Trying to work out where to take the lucky lady of the moment for Valentine’s?” he asked.


Tony shook his head. “Nah. I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” he said, fiddling with his mouse and making a pretence of editing the document in front of him. “You?”


“Nope. Thought I’d just have a quiet night at home. Don’t do Valentine’s Day. You wanna come over, watch a movie or a game or something?”


“Yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re not doing anything special anyway.” ‘Or you could do me’ he added mentally.


“Okay then. You ready to get out of here? You can leave your car here, pick it up tomorrow. I’ve just got to stop at the market on the way home,” Gibbs said.


“Sure. Good idea. Carpooling’s better for the environment, right?” Tony powered down his computer and stood up, stretching the kinks out of his back then followed Gibbs to the elevator. “Hey, where’d McGee  and Ziva go?”


“I let them go early. Figured they probably had something to do tonight.”


“Never figured you for a romantic, Boss,” Tony said, following Gibbs into the car when it came.


“I just told you I don’t do Valentine’s, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, pushing the button for the garage level. “I just couldn’t stand watching them checking the clock every five minutes anymore. Besides, we haven’t got any active cases right now. I figure we could all do with some downtime.”




Tony watched as Gibbs pottered around the kitchen making his deservedly famous spaghetti. “Need any help?” he asked.


“Yeah, you can make a salad,” Gibbs replied as he pulled down the herb rack and began pulling out jars at random and contemplating the contents.


Tony wandered over to the fridge and opened it. “Um, Boss, there’s no salad greens in here. Did you pick some up at the market?”


“Dammit, I forgot. I thought there were still some left from the other night.”


Tony closed the fridge. “Hey, that deli down the road is still open. They have good fresh produce… unless you’d rather just give salad a miss. I don’t mind either way.”


Gibbs walked over and took his wallet from his coat pocket. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to Tony. “Get whatever you like. I’m pretty sure you don’t eat enough vegetables as it is.”


“Hey, popcorn’s a vegetable, isn’t it?” Tony easily ducked the expected headslap and headed out the door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes tops.”


“Take your time, DiNozzo. I’ll wait for you,” Gibbs replied, his attention already firmly back on the sauce bubbling away on the stove.




True to his word, Tony was back at the loft within twenty minutes, the bag containing the salad vegetables held in one hand as he opened the door with the other.


He stepped inside and stopped, his mouth dropping open in stunned surprise, the bag falling from nerveless fingers to the floor.


The dining table was covered with a cream silk tablecloth, silver candelabra alight with candles, its centerpiece. There were places set but instead of the usual dishes and cutlery, Tony recognized Jethro’s best dinner service and flatware, the ones he’d told Tony that Shannon had bought when they were first married. There was a red rose lying across the plate in his usual place.


A gentle finger lifted his jaw and closed his mouth and Tony blinked in confusion as Gibbs suddenly appeared in front of him, dressed in a dark blue silk shirt, open at the neck far enough to give a tantalizing glimpse of his chest. Linen pants hugged his long legs and Tony momentarily wondered if he should call for a drool bucket before he dribbled all over the floor.


“Wha-“ Tony swallowed and tried again. “What’s going on?” he whispered, wondering how his mouth could feel so dry when he was salivating so much at the vision in front of him.


“Well,” Gibbs drawled, stepping even closer. “I said I wasn’t seeing anyone but there’s someone I’d like to be seeing.”


“Who?” Tony coughed as his voice came out several octaves higher than it’s usual tenor in response to Gibbs’ forefinger tracing its way over his lower lip.


Gibbs leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on his mouth. “You,” he whispered as his hand wandered down to ghost over Tony’s suddenly hard and aching cock. “Want to be my Valentine, Tony?”


“You’ve known how I felt all along,” he said.


Gibbs shrugged. “I’m a trained senior field agent. Of course, I knew.” He gave a disarming grin and pulled Tony into a hug. “I was waiting to be sure it wasn’t a passing infatuation. You’re not exactly known for your staying power when it comes to relationships.” He pushed Tony back and kissed him deeply and passionately. “I love you, and I want you, in my bed, in my life,” he said as he pulled back.


Tony pulled him slowly back into another kiss. “I love Valentine’s Day,” he said just before their lips met.


The End