In a New York Minute

By Hawk

EMAIL: Hawk

 

Prompts:  Moonridge fic for MC: "I would like it to be a Gibbs/DiNozzo slash fic.  Angst.  H/C.  Case related involving Daddy DiNozzo, (could even be a first meeting between Gibbs and Tony if that gets your muses talking).


A/N: Thank you to my wonderful Beta, Annie.  I couldn't do it without you!



Summary: When Gibbs' team is investigating the murder of a Marine, Gibbs meets a troubled young man who makes a lasting impression.



~*~*~



"We've got a dead marine, folks.  Let's get moving!"



Gibbs walked to the elevator, not breaking stride, expecting his team to
follow – and they did.  He smirked as the elevator doors closed and his team
settled into the car, strapping on weapons and hiking packs onto their
shoulders.  Sipping his ever-present cup of coffee, he nodded once at their
backs.  This team would do.



~*~*~



"Talk to me, Duck," Jethro said as he  leaned over the older man's shoulder.



Dr. Mallard, Ducky to his friends, sighed softly, shaking his head.  "This
young man died from a single gunshot wound to the base of his skull."  Ducky
looked up.  "He was executed, Jethro."



Jethro nodded.  "T.O.D?"



"Approximately six hours ago."



Jethro turned away with a barely concealed growl.  Six hours.  Six hours for
the perps, whomever they may be, to disappear.  His job had just gotten
harder.  "All right, people," he said as he walked across the warehouse, his
footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.  "What have you got?"



~*~*~



Four hours later they were back in the Navy Yard, stowing their gear,
cataloguing evidence and, finally meeting up in the bullpen to brainstorm
about the case.  They ordered out for Chinese food and Gibbs went to pick it
up – and if he happened to stop by his favorite coffee shop on the way, who
was to complain?  Coffee soothed his temper and his entire team knew it.



"Okay, let's do this one more time," Gibbs said as he tossed his Chinese
food carton in the trash.  Getting to his feet, he walked quickly to stand
before the large flat-screen monitor that graced their 'office' area.  He
smirked as the other members of his team hustled to join him.



As if on cue, Caitlin Todd spoke, "Enlisted, Salvatore Manucci, three years
in the corps on a four year term.  Stationed in Arlington, Virginia.
Reprimanded
twice in the last year for fighting."



"Roommate?"



Kate consulted her notes.  "Up to six weeks ago, his roommate was Marcel
Sayers.  No priors, no reprimands on his record.  He shipped out to
Afghanistan."  She paused.  "It says here he requested a transfer."



"Who requests a transfer *into* a war zone?"



"Someone who needs to get away from a bad situation, McGee," Gibbs said,
taking another sip of his coffee.



"B-bad situation, Boss?"



"Roommate who was in trouble – a lot, McGee.  Get Sayers on the sat phone.  We
need to talk to him."



"Yes, Boss," McGee said as he walked to his desk to call up to MTAC.



~*~*~



"Why Manhattan, Boss?" Tim McGee asked as he parked in front of the busy
airport.



"All the leads point to DiNozzo Enterprises, McGee – and Michael DiNozzo is
currently in Manhattan."



"I know, Boss," McGee said with a soft sigh.  "I was the one who called
their offices in D.C. – but—"



"Kate's going on this one, McGee.  She has seniority and I don't need both
of you for this.  You need to follow up on the information we got from Mr.
Sayers – and stay out of trouble."



"Yes, Boss.  See you when you get back."  Tim's voice was filled with
disappointment and Gibbs clapped him on the shoulder before getting out of
the car.



Jethro waited until Tim had pulled away before hefting his suitcase and
nodding to the brunette who was waiting by the doors.



"He okay with this?" Kate asked as they walked into the airport.



"Yeah – he's okay with this.  Come on, we've got a plane to catch."



Jethro walked quickly through the airport, flashing his badge at the
security checkpoint and showing his permit to carry a weapon on board.  Kate
did likewise and, once they were cleared, they hustled to the gate.  Their
plane was boarding.



"You always cut it so close, Gibbs?" Kate huffed as she brushed her rumpled
hair back with her hand.



"Yup.  I hate to wait in airports," Gibbs said as they queued up to board
the plane.



Kate followed Gibbs on board, waiting while he stowed their bags before
slipping into her seat.  Gibbs took the aisle seat and he saw Kate smile.



"What?" he asked.



She snorted softly.  "You're predictable," she said with a grin.  "Taking
the aisle seat."  Leaning back, she sighed softly.  "Tell me again why we're
staying the night?  I mean, it's an hour flight.  We could take a later
flight home – tonight."



Gibbs leaned his head back.  "I know, but I want to leave my options open in
case DiNozzo doesn't cooperate with us."



"In case?" Kate scoffed.  "You really have any doubt?"



"Not really," Jethro answered easily.



Kate laughed and settled back.  "So, are you just going to confront him?"



Gibbs shook his head.  As they had investigated the murder of the young
Marine, they had uncovered a drug ring.  Someone was supplying the young man
with drugs, which he then sold on base to his fellow Marines.  He also had a
small group of young men selling for him on the streets of Washington.  For
a twenty-three year old, he was pulling in six figures – and likely skimming
off the top to his supplier.  The supplier?  All signs pointed to one
Michael DiNozzo or someone in his organization.  Gibbs was betting on the
big man himself.  Thus the trip to New York.  He needed to see him in person
– to see just what his gut said about Michael DiNozzo.



The flight was uneventful and they walked out of the airport into a gloomy
New York afternoon.  Hailing a cab, Jethro and Kate headed into the city.  They
had a tycoon to interview.



~*~*~



Gibbs had flashed his badge at the security officer at the front desk of
DiNozzo Enterprises, telling him they needed to see Michael DiNozzo.  He and
Kate were ushered upstairs to the twenty-first floor within minutes – and
they had been cooling their heels in the foyer of the CEO's office ever
since.  As Jethro looked at his watch once again he realized he and Kate had
been waiting for over an hour to see Michael DiNozzo.  Now that they had
lost the element of surprise, Michael DiNozzo could be doing just about
anything.  Jethro was not amused.



Kate was currently sitting, leafing through a magazine, her calm exterior
annoying the hell out of Jethro.  For his part, Gibbs paced, short angry
strides that took him to the large window overlooking the city, where he
paused for just a moment before stalking to the other end of the waiting
area, stopping in front of the secretary's desk as if asking silently if Mr.
DiNozzo was ready *now.  *A beefy security guard stood to the right of the
secretary's desk, directly in line of the mahogany double doors that led
into Michael DiNozzo's private inner sanctum.



Another hour passed before the secretary looked up and said, "Mr. DiNozzo
will see you now."

Gibbs turned from his perusal of the city streets out of the window,
catching Kate slapping her magazine onto the end table and straightening her
skirt as she stood.  They met just to the right of the desk, Gibbs ushering
her forward with a hand laid lightly on the small of her back, skimming her
shirt and then falling back to his side.



The office was magnificent; richly appointed and with a view of the
Manhattan skyline to die for.  As Gibbs and Kate entered the room a tall,
well-built man looked up from where he was sitting behind a large ornately
carved desk.  He hesitated just long enough to show that he wasn't impressed
by their credentials and was only seeing them to humor them, not out of any
sense of obligation to their authority.  As the two NCIS agents approached
the desk, the man stood and reached a hand out to first Gibbs and then Kate.



"Michael DiNozzo," he said by way of introduction even though the agents
knew full well who he was.  After shaking their hands Michael DiNozzo sat
again, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk as he did so.  "Please –
sit."



Jethro eased into the chair across from Mr. DiNozzo's desk, seeing Kate
automatically smooth her skirt down over her ass as she sat.  Hiding his
smile, Jethro looked around the spacious office, automatically checking for
threats.  It was a corner office, two walls taken up by floor to ceiling
windows.  The view from those windows was breathtaking and Jethro found his
eyes continually pulled to it.  Knowing he needed to pay attention, Jethro
pulled his gaze from the view behind Mr. DiNozzo and continued his sweep of
the room, startling slightly when he noticed a young man tucked in a corner
of the office, staring out the wall of windows.



The young man was in profile and Jethro couldn't help but take a good long
look.  He was tall – easily as tall as Jethro was, if not an inch or so
taller – lean, and looked fit.  His clothes were obviously designer in
origin and expensive, the charcoal gray cloth hanging on him like it had
been tailor-made.  Whoever this guy was, he didn't shop off the rack.  A
hunter green silk shirt topped the gray pinstripe and there was a
coordinating tie in an abstract pattern that reminded Gibbs of something
primal and wild.  The young man had his hands thrust deep into his pants
pockets, which pulled his jacket out of line and told Jethro he wasn't
carrying a weapon.  Once he realized the young man posed no immediate
threat, Jethro pulled his attention back to the conversation at hand.



Kate opened the floor, telling Mr. DiNozzo why they were there and what
information they were looking for – with a few exceptions.  She told him of
the connection they had found between Salvatore Manucci and DiNozzo
Enterprises, but failed to mention the drugs or their suspicions.  They were
on a simple fishing expedition and didn't want to tip their hands too soon.
As Kate held up their end of the conversation, Jethro watched Michael
DiNozzo for any tell-tale signs of his guilt.  He knew that Kate would also
be cataloguing DiNozzo's reactions and, so didn't feel too guilty when his
attention wandered back to the young man in the corner of the room
occasionally.



The conversation with Manucci's roommate had yielded little new information,
but they had enough evidence pointing to DiNozzo Enterprises to get
permission from the Director to make the trip to New York.  So now their job
was to get irrefutable proof that Michael DiNozzo was the drug king-pin that
the evidence suggested.



Gibbs' attention was pulled back to the conversation when Michael DiNozzo
said, "I'm afraid you've made a trip to New York for nothing.  I don't know
anyone by the name of Salvatore Manucci."  A soft snort drew Gibbs' gaze to
the young man by the windows again and he wondered for just a moment who he
was – and what he found so funny in Mr. DiNozzo's proclamation.  Just then,
the young man turned slightly and Gibbs recognized him immediately from the
file folders.  He was Michael DiNozzo's son, Anthony.  Gibbs frowned.  Their
files said Anthony was estranged from his father so seeing him in this
office was a surprise.  Maybe they were talking to the wrong DiNozzo.



"My son, Anthony," Michael said suddenly, startling Gibbs out of his
thoughts.



"Tony," the young man said as he turned to face them fully.



Gibbs stood.  "Tony," he said, "I'm Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS."



Tony leaned one shoulder against the glass, crossing his ankles.  His hands
were still thrust deep into his pockets.  "Yeah, I heard the introductions
when you came in," he said softly.



Gibbs would have been insulted, but what he saw in the young man's eyes
stopped his indignation.  Tony's eyes were wounded – haunted – old, and
Gibbs wondered just what had happened in the young man's life to put that
look in his eyes.



Almost immediately, Tony turned his attention back to whatever it was he had
been staring at out the window and Jethro turned to find Michael DiNozzo
staring at his son with a look bordering on disgust.  There was a story
there, he thought, and he was going to find out what it was.



The interview was over rather quickly and Jethro found himself eager to
leave, even though they didn't get much information out of the old man.  He
had other things on his mind; namely Tony DiNozzo.  He flipped open his
phone as soon as they hit the street, hitting the speed dial as he paced in
front of the building housing DiNozzo Enterprises.



"McGee," he snapped when the young agent answered, "I need you to find out
everything you can on one Anthony DiNozzo."



"The son?" McGee asked quickly.



"Is there another Anthony DiNozzo that would be pertinent to this case?"
Gibbs snapped back.



"W-well, Mr. DiNozzo's father – I – I mean Michael DiNozzo's father was
Anthony," McGee stammered.



"He alive, McGee?"



"No, Boss."



"Then he isn't the one I'm interested in.  Got it?"



"Yes, Boss," McGee answered quickly.



"Good – get busy.  I want to know everything there is to know about him –
and quickly."  Gibbs snapped his phone closed and looked up to see Kate
staring at him.  "What?" he asked curtly.



Kate smiled.  "Nothing, Gibbs," she said as she stepped to the curb to hail
a cab.



Gibbs growled softly and slipped into the cab.



~*~*~



The phone rang once, the ring barely finishing when Gibbs opened it.  "Talk
to me, McGee," he said abruptly.



"Right, Boss."  McGee sounded nervous and Gibbs took a deep breath.  The
last thing he wanted to do was snap at the young agent and start him
stammering.  He would never get his information if that happened.  "Anthony
Michael DiNozzo, thirty-three years old."



"He doesn't look it," Gibbs murmured softly.



"S-sorry, Boss?" McGee said, obviously thrown by the soft murmur of sound in
his ear.



"Nothing, McGee.  Keep going."  Gibbs stifled his irritation, closing his
eyes.  He absentmindedly wiped his hand over his face, catching a stray
droplet of water from his recent shower.  Picking up the edge of the towel
draped around his shoulders, he wiped it over his wet hair.



"Anthony – Tony, as he prefers, was kicked out of a Connecticut Prep School
for inappropriate conduct.  Rumors circulated about him getting caught with
his pants down – literally.  His father apparently paid good money to quell
the rumors and enrolled the boy in the Rhode Island Military Academy,
obviously hoping the added structure and restrictions would keep young
Anthony's libido in check.  What it did was to put him into close proximity
with even more pretty young men – many of whom were there for the added
discipline as he was.  He garnered the nickname, The Flash, for his prowess
in – um – well…"



"Just say it, McGee," Gibbs bit out.  "His sexual prowess."



"Um, yeah, Boss.  Apparently he prided himself on sleeping with the – um –"



"I get it.  Go on." Gibbs sighed loudly and then silently cursed himself.  His
agitation would only make the young agent even more nervous.



"Wh-when he graduated from RIMA, he was accepted at OSU.  His father wanted
him to get a business degree but he went for Physical Education."



"Bet that pissed the old man off," Gibbs mused aloud.



McGee chuckled.  "It sure did.  Mr. DiNozzo threatened to disinherit him,
but he didn't go through with it.  Anthony – Tony, broke his leg in his
senior year – playing football.  He was living with a – Jacob Sanderson –
Jake.  Rumor had it they were more than just roommates.  Then, just before
graduation, Jake was in a serious car accident.  He is in a long term care
facility in – um – Chicago – and Tony moved home."



There was a pause and Gibbs thought McGee was finished – and then he spoke
again.



"But what's hinky, Boss, is – Michael DiNozzo is footing the bills."



Gibbs stopped, holding his breath for a moment in surprise.  "He's what,
McGee?"



"Michael DiNozzo is footing the bills for Jacob Sanderson's care."



Gibbs smiled then.  "Interesting," he said softly.  "Good work, McGee."



There was silence for a few seconds.  "Th-thanks, Boss."



Gibbs hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before tossing it onto his
bed.  Daddy DiNozzo was paying for the long term care his son's probable
former lover was receiving, and the son, who had been on the verge of being
disinherited was home.



After drying off again, catching the last stray droplets of water, Gibbs
tossed his towel into the bathroom and picked up his phone again.  With no
greeting, he simply said, "What does Tony do in the evenings?"



"D-do, Boss?" McGee stammered, obviously caught unawares.



"Do, McGee – as in, where does he go?  What does he do to unwind?"



There was silence on the other end of the phone and, for a minute, Jethro
thought that his agent had hung up.



"I – I don't know, Boss," Tim said after a long minute.



Gibbs huffed out a loud sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "That's
okay, McGee," he said.  "See what you can dig up for me."  Shutting his
phone, he started to toss it on the bed again and then changed his
mind.  Clipping
the phone to his belt, he rummaged in his bag, picking out a clean shirt.  He
put the shirt on, slipped into his suit jacket and let himself out of his
room.  As he passed Kate's room he hesitated, debating as to whether or not
he should tell her where he was going, and then decided against it.  Knowing
Kate, she would insist on coming along and would do nothing but discuss the
case – and, right now, discussing the case was the last thing on his mind.



Cases like this were usually cut and dried: catch the bad guy in a slip-up,
gather evidence, arrest and prosecute.  The addition of the younger DiNozzo
added a whole new layer to the case.  In fact, at this moment, Jethro wasn't
entirely sure that Tony wasn't the drug smuggler instead of his father.  Sure,
it didn't ring quite true to his gut, but it was a possibility he couldn't
discount without further inquiry.



Stepping into the elevator, Jethro hit the button for the lobby.  Taking a
right past the front desk, he entered the lounge.  His instinctive reaction
to a new place was to look around the dimly lit room.  There were few people
in the bar on a Tuesday evening and Jethro walked up to the bar, taking a
seat on a high stool.  Almost immediately the bartender, a tall,
athletic-looking young man, approached him.  He ordered his usual: bourbon,
straight up, rebuffing the young man's friendly overtures gently but firmly.
He wasn't in the mood for chit-chat tonight.  After a minute, the bartender
wandered away and Jethro was left to his thoughts.  Unfortunately, his
thoughts immediately turned to the younger DiNozzo and he drained his drink
in a gulp, signaling the bartender for another.



"You're not driving tonight are you?" he asked after pouring Jethro's fourth
double.



Jethro snorted.  "No – not driving."



"Good," the bartender said, turning to put the bottle of liquor away.



"Don't go too far with that," Jethro said.  "I'm not finished."



"Soon, though," the young man said, leaning a hip against the bar and
staring at Jethro intently.



Jethro shook his head slowly.  So much for the young punk letting him alone.
Peering over the rim of his glass as he took a long drink, he decided the
young man wasn't too bad on the eyes – and he'd been flirting all night.  As
the night wore on, Jethro realized that Nick, as the bartender had
introduced himself, was cute in a rough and tumble kind of way.  He also
realized that he was looking for Tony every time someone walked in – and was
very disappointed when he didn't show.



After downing his sixth double bourbon, Jethro got to his feet, steadying
himself on the edge of the bar before winking at Nick and turning to leave.




"You going to be okay?" Nick asked quickly.  "I can get someone to help
you."



Jethro turned back around slowly and smiled at the young man.  "I'm going to
be just fine.  Thanks."  At least he would be able to sleep.  He never slept
well in strange places but the alcohol would help.



~*~*~



The insistent ringing woke Gibbs early and he rolled over with a groan, his
hand automatically reaching for his cell phone as he blinked the sleep from
his eyes.



"Yeah," he managed, licking his dry lips and trying to summon enough saliva
to be able to swallow the stale taste in his mouth.



"You okay, Boss?"



Gibbs bit back a huff of annoyance, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his
nose.  "Whatchya got, McGee?" he managed.



"Anthony DiNozzo belongs to Gold's Gym; the Manhattan, Mid-Town location.  He
is there every morning at six o'clock."



Gibbs sighed softly.  No wonder it felt early – it was early.  "What's the
address?"



"250 West 54th Street.  I've faxed a membership card to your attention at
the front desk, Boss."



"Thanks, McGee."  He snapped his phone shut and closed his eyes again for a
moment before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting
up.  Getting
to his feet was the next obstacle and he swayed unsteadily for just a second
before finding his balance and heading to the bathroom to shower.  Not that
he usually showered before heading to the gym, but he didn't want to go in
there smelling like a brewery.  No, he needed to be on top of his game this
morning if he had any chance of talking to Anthony DiNozzo.



Exactly twenty minutes later Gibbs was standing at the front desk leaving a
message for Kate.  He hadn't wanted to wake her because he was pretty sure
she would have wanted to tag along and, for some reason, he thought he would
have better luck talking with Tony if he was alone.  The message was short,
simply stating that he was going out and would be back later (deliberately
leaving out exactly where he was going), and then the doorman was hailing
him a cab and he was off.



Shaking his head, he disembarked, realizing he probably could have walked
the route easily.  He glanced at the clock over the front desk as he
entered: 5:50 a.m.  He should have beat Tony there by more than a few
minutes.  Pasting on a smile, he approached the desk and the pretty young
woman who was working there.



"Good morning," she chirped, smiling widely.  "How can I help you?"



Jethro leaned a hip against the counter as he set his bag on the floor and
pulled his wallet from the pocket of his sweat pants.  "Pegged me as an
outsider, did you?" he said affably as he pushed his membership card across
the counter.  He grinned.  "Sorry it's only a fax copy.  Can you believe I
left it at home and had to have it faxed to the hotel?"



The young girl smiled.  "So where's home – Jethro?" she asked as she looked
at the card.



"Washington – D.C.," he answered easily.



"Here on business then?" she asked, looking up at him again.



"Yeah – and, before you ask, I like the feel of a Gold's better than the
wanna-be gyms in the hotels I stay at."



The young woman giggled then.  "Well, Jethro – since you're new here and I
don't personally know you, would you mind showing me some ID?"



"Not at all," Jethro replied, pulling out his wallet again and flipping it
open to show his ID and badge.



"Oh!  Cop?" she asked as she glanced at the badge.



"Federal Agent."

 "Cool," she murmured before telling him he was free to use the facilities
as long as he was in town.



Nodding once, Jethro walked away from the desk and into the main room of the
gym, looking around quickly.  As far as he could tell, Tony wasn't here yet
– but he would be, if Tim's intel was correct.  The young agent had said
that Tony worked out every morning without fail.



Jethro was twenty minutes into an intense cardio workout when he saw Tony
walk through the door.  His easy banter with the other patrons, as well as
the young woman at the desk, convinced Jethro that Tony was indeed a daily
fixture at the gym.



It took another five minutes for Tony to notice that Jethro was in the gym.
At first glance, his gaze had by-passed Jethro, skimming over him and
settling on a slim young woman who was on the elliptical machine at the end
of the row from Jethro's own treadmill.  Jethro watched as Tony sauntered
over, leaning against the pillar next to the woman to stretch as he flirted
easily with her.  Her calm acceptance of Tony's obvious overtures was yet
more proof that Tony was a familiar presence at the gym as their banter
reminded Jethro of more than acquaintances but definitely not lovers.  The
easy camaraderie was evident between most if not all of the early morning
gym-goers and Jethro watched as Tony spread his easy charm around to nearly
all of the patrons as he slowly stretched and warmed up.



Jethro noticed the exact moment that Tony realized just who the newcomer on
the treadmill was.  Their eyes met and Jethro nodded easily as he maintained
his moderate running pace.  Tony's countenance shuttered quickly and he
looked around the gym once before he walked over to the line of treadmills
and climbed onto the one right next to Jethro's.



"Agent Gibbs," Tony said as he started jogging next to Jethro.



"Mr. DiNozzo," Gibbs answered with a nod.  He noted Tony's immediate frown
and stifled the urge to smile.  If he had read Tony right yesterday, calling
him Mr. DiNozzo wouldn't sit well with the young man.



"It's Tony, actually," Tony said after a minute.



Jethro nodded and glanced over to see Tony watching him carefully.  "Only if
you call me Jethro," he said easily.



Tony smiled.  "Jethro?" he asked.  "Really?"



Gibbs snorted.  "Yeah, really."



"Wow," Tony said, looking away and picking up his pace slightly.  Silence
reigned between the two men for a couple of minutes.  "You ever watch the
Beverly Hillbillies?" Tony asked after a minute.



Jethro stumbled, immediately pulling the safety card on the treadmill and
then bending forward, leaning his hands on his knees as he panted.  As he
tried to catch his breath, he noticed that Tony had stopped running as well
and was watching him closely.  Jethro straightened up and glared at Tony for
a moment, watching the younger man fidget nervously before Jethro broke into
a smile.  "Like I haven't heard that one before, Tony.  And, no, I never saw
the show – but enough people have regaled me with the minutiae of it so
don't feel you have to."  Jethro replaced the safety card on the treadmill
and then stepped off, twisting slightly to stretch out his back before
bending forward, stretching out his hamstrings.  It didn't feel like the
stumble had caused any damage.



"You okay?" Tony asked suddenly.



Jethro looked up quickly, surprised to see Tony standing just out of his
reach, watching him closely.  He nodded.  "Yeah, I'm good."



Tony breathed out a sigh and Jethro thought he saw a wave of relief pass
over the young man's face.  "Good – I thought – well, I'm glad you're okay.
And I'm sorry I made you trip."



Jethro smiled easily.  "I was just a bit surprised by your comment is all.  No
problem, though.  I didn't pull anything."



They wound up working out together, spotting for each other and chatting
easily as if they'd known each other for years instead of minutes.  When
they were finished, neither man wanted to part ways so they wound up at a
nearby coffee shop sipping piping hot coffee.  Jethro felt a little guilty
that he was still scoping Tony out for leads in a case but put his guilt to
one side, soaking up the warmth that was Tony DiNozzo in full "on" mode.  No
wonder the people in the gym liked this guy.  He was charm personified.  Even
Jethro "the second B is for Bastard" Gibbs was sucked in – albeit with a
life preserver and a safety line to shore.  He couldn't afford to let Tony
get the best of him – even when, after a while, he realized he would like
nothing more than to allow it.  He was pretty sure it would be an amazing
ride.



Jethro was watching Tony lick the powdered sugar off his fingertips when
Tony suddenly asked, "So what did you really want with my father?"



Caught off guard, Jethro gaped for a moment before quickly gathering his
wits about him and smiling easily.  Clearing his throat softly, he answered,
"Just what we said.  We're looking into the murder of a Marine in a
warehouse in Virginia."



Tony bit into his donut again, chewing slowly as he watched Jethro.  "So
what's the connection?" he asked after a minute as he lifted his napkin to
wipe the last traces of sugar off his lips.



Jethro leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his coffee.  "That's
what I'm looking into."



Tony chuckled and pushed his chair back.  "Well then, Agent Gibbs, I wish
you luck in your quest."



Gibbs gazed up at Tony.  "Thank you, Mr. DiNozzo."



A frown crossed Tony's face before he pasted a fake smile on, nodded once to
Gibbs, and walked away.  Jethro watched until the door to the coffee shop
closed on Tony's retreating back before tipping his coffee cup up to his
lips again and draining it.  He looked at the cup for a moment before
gathering his things and getting to his feet.  Tossing his cup in the trash,
he turned back to the counter to get one for the road.  They made good
coffee.  He'd have to remember this place.



As he walked down the sidewalk toward his hotel, Jethro sighed, wondering
how he'd become 'Agent Gibbs' again after being 'Jethro' all morning.  He
didn't usually miss these things, but he had the feeling that Tony had just
been playing along with him, somehow knowing that Jethro was on a fishing
trip.  Well, he'd had fun at any rate, even if he hadn't learned too much
more about Michael DiNozzo.  What he had learned was enlightening.



~*~*~



"So what did you learn?"



Gibbs looked up from his book, his glasses perched on the end of his
nose.  Stifling
a sigh, he reached up and pulled his glasses off, folding them and putting
them in the breast pocket of his jacket.  Truth be told, he wasn't really
reading, unable to concentrate on the words written on the page.  Instead,
his thoughts kept going back to one Anthony DiNozzo, Tony.  Something about
the young man pulled at him.



"Gibbs?"



He did sigh then as he turned to stare at Kate.  He really didn't want to
discuss the events of the morning with her – but it was a case and he knew
he had no choice.  That was, after all, what they had traveled to New York
for: to solve a murder case.  And Tony was a potential witness in that case.
She didn't need to know how Tony affected him.  Hell, he wasn't even sure of
his own feelings – just that Tony pulled at him.  He couldn't get the
younger man out of his mind.



"Well?" she said, sarcasm lacing her voice as she crossed her arms over her
chest.



Gibbs clenched his jaw for a moment before nodding curtly.  "I learned that
he is a lonely man who is very good at making superficial connections with a
multitude of people, making him seem to be popular and well adjusted."



"But you're not buying it?"



Not buying it was a mild way of putting it.  No, he wasn't buying it at all.
In fact, just looking into Tony's eyes made him more than just aware that
Tony was barely hanging on, putting on a brave face for the world, and a
disdainful one for his father while, inside he was slowly dying.  He had no
sense of purpose in his life, nothing to live for.  His one true love was
lying in an extended care facility, hooked up to a respirator, a
quadriplegic.  He wasn't even allowed to visit the man, had never been
allowed to say goodbye.  Instead, he lived with his grief every day as if
the accident had happened only yesterday, never being allowed closure for
his grief – or his guilt.



"No, I'm not buying it," was all he said.



~*~*~



"Evidence?" he snapped.



Kate startled slightly, trying to hide it with a shift in her weight from
one foot to the other.  McGee smirked for a quick moment, catching Gibbs'
glare and then settling down with a soft cough of embarrassment.



"Well, Boss," he began somewhat hesitantly, "Anthony DiNozzo is for all
intents and purposes a playboy: penthouse in the city, fast cars, faster
women."  At Gibbs' raised eyebrow, Tim shrugged.  "That's the public story,
anyway."



"And the not so public?" Gibbs asked as he turned to face the plasma screen
that was currently showing a larger-than-life picture of Tony.



"He's a friendly guy but doesn't make any lasting relationships.  His
college lover is in an extended care facility in Ohio and, although Anthony
has not visited it once, his father is paying the bills for his lover to
stay there."



Jethro frowned.  "Not once, huh?"



Tim shook his head.  "No, not once.  Anthony DiNozzo was driving the car the
night of the accident and—"



"Tony was driving?" Jethro interrupted.



"Y-yes, Boss," McGee affirmed, nodding vigorously.  "Anthony was driving and
got away with a fractured right arm and a few broken ribs.  Mr. Sanderson
wasn't so lucky.  They were T-boned.  Mr. Sanderson took the full brunt of
the collision."



"Fault?"



Tim consulted his notes briefly.  "Drunken driver by the name of Marlon
Higgs.  He was speeding and ran a stop sign.  DiNozzo and Sanderson never
had a chance."



Jethro sighed.  What the hell were they missing?  Tony had gone away to
school, deliberately majoring in a subject that pissed his father off and
sticking with it even though he was threatened with disinheritance.  So why
was he back in Daddy's pocket?  Why did he move home without a fuss after
the accident, leaving his lover in another state and never once visiting
him?



"Are Sanderson's parents alive?" he asked suddenly, making his agents jump.



"On it," Kate said as she began to type on her computer.



After a long minute during which Gibbs began to pace silently, running the
various scenarios over in his mind, Kate spoke up again, "I've got them.  They
live just outside Chicago: Daniel and Darla Sanderson."



"Talk to me," Gibbs snapped as the plasma screen blinked, now showing the ID
photos of two older people, a man and a woman.



"Darla Sanderson, homemaker, and Daniel Sanderson, retired school
teacher.  Daniel
taught sixth grade science in an inner city school for twenty-seven years,
finally forced out three years ago by dwindling budgets.  He took a modest
early retirement package and has been substitute teaching to supplement his
income.  Darla volunteers at the long term care facility her son is a
resident of."



McGee muttered something unintelligible and, as Gibbs turned toward him, he
looked up, smiling.  "Boss, there is no way that the Sandersons would ever
have been able to pay for the rest home their son has been in for the past
twelve years."  Gibbs raised an eyebrow.  "Don't you see?" Tim
continued.  "Michael
DiNozzo is paying for it."



Gibbs snorted softly.  "I know that, McGee, but why would he do that?" he
snapped.



"In exchange for his son never seeing Jacob Sanderson again."  McGee took a
deep breath.  "Michael DiNozzo was very unhappy with his son's choice of
major in school – threatened to disinherit him even – but he couldn't do it.
He wanted his son by his side, even if he had to use blackmail to do it.  Tony
knows very well that Jake's parents couldn't afford the place he's in and
Tony would want the very best for his 'soul mate'."



"Soul mate, McGee?" Gibbs asked.



"That's what Tammy Myers called Tony and Jake; soul mates."



"Tammy Myers," Gibbs said evenly.



"College friend.  According to my research, Tony, Jake, Tom, and Tammy were
inseparable all through college.  Tom and Tammy were married just after
graduation and still live in the Columbus area."



Gibbs nodded.  "What else did you find out?"



"According to Tammy, they haven't heard from Tony since graduation.  Once he
moved home, he disappeared off the radar screen.  They tried numerous times
over the years to reconnect but have not been able to contact him."



"Interesting," Gibbs murmured as he stared at the two pictures on the
screen.



"What does this have to do with the dead Marine in the warehouse?" Kate
asked after a minute.



"Do we have any new information on the drugs?" Gibbs asked.



"Just a few rumors and a couple of small-time dealers we've been trying to
track down."



Gibbs didn't turn his head, his tone of voice saying everything his face
couldn't at the moment.  "And this gives us more insight into Anthony's life
and background but we still haven't ruled him out as the drug dealer."



McGee leaned an elbow on his desk and looked up at Gibbs.  "You really think
he did it, Boss?  Tony, I mean."



Gibbs shook his head.  "No, I don't think he did it, McGee – but then, what
I think isn't really important here, is it?  We need to follow the evidence,
people."  He stared at the screen, which now contained five pictures: the
photo IDs of the Sandersons, a candid shot of Tammy and Tom Myers, a photo
of Tony, and one of a much younger Jacob Sanderson, taken just a few weeks
before the tragic accident that left him paralyzed, along with a much
younger Tony DiNozzo.  This Tony was much more carefree.  His eyes
positively glowed and he was grinning from ear to ear as he stood
hand-in-hand with Jake.  Jethro decided he would have very much liked to
meet that younger, carefree Tony DiNozzo.



~*~*~



*Three Weeks Later*

* *

"Take some time off, Jethro."



Jethro scowled as he huffed out a breath.  "I don't need to take any time
off, Duck.  I'm fine."



Ducky smiled sadly.  "Fine?  You, my friend, are far from fine."  As Jethro
opened his mouth to object to Ducky's opinion on his health, Ducky held up
his hand.  "You were shot," he said dourly, "and, yes, I know it was just a
flesh wound – but a bullet is a bullet and you should take some time off.
Relax."



Jethro took a deep breath.  Ducky was his friend and if he just blurted out
the scathing comment that was currently residing on the tip of his tongue he
would most probably irreparably damage that friendship.  He knew that Ducky
had his best interests at heart, but the last thing he wanted right now was
to be home alone all day.  At least when he was at work, he could keep busy
and forget the look in Tony's eyes as they burst into his father's office
that fateful day.



He snorted softly.  Who would have thought that Michael DiNozzo would have a
gun in his desk drawer – or have enough balls to use it?  What was really
embarrassing though was the fact that Michael DiNozzo hadn't been shooting
at him and he still managed to get shot.  No, instead, when Jethro had
spelled out the case against him, Michael DiNozzo had merely looked over at
his son, who was standing in his usual spot beside the window – only this
time he was gaping open-mouthed at his father – realizing probably for the
first time just what a bastard the man really was.  Jethro purposefully
hadn't glanced in Tony's direction as he spilled the tale of blackmail and
deceit surrounding Jacob Sanderson's care and the trail that led from that
convalescent home to the warehouse in Virginia and back to the very office
they were standing in.  When Michael DiNozzo pulled the gun, Jethro had
thought that Michael was just going to do what a fair percentage of perps
did – point it at the cops and try to bully his way out of his office.  So,
when the elder DiNozzo swung the gun around to his right, Jethro was
momentarily stunned.



Vile words spilled from Michael's mouth as he told his son just what he
thought of his 'lifestyle' and how he'd paid for Jake's care for all these
years simply to keep Tony at his side.  Tony had known about the payments to
the convalescent home, of course – and the part he played in it all: be a
good boy and his lover got the best care money could buy, screw up and he
would most likely die an early death from substandard care.  What he hadn't
known was the true depth of hatred his father had for Jake, and for Tony's
sexuality.



"I didn't think you cared enough to want to kill me, *Dad*," Tony had said
lazily as he leaned one hip against the plate glass, his hands stuffed deep
in his pockets.  Jethro could see the effort it took Tony to appear calm and
disdainful of his father.  He could also see that the younger man knew his
father was really going to go through with it and pull the trigger – and
that Tony didn't care.



Jethro acted out of instinct and leapt, grabbling Michael DiNozzo's gun hand
as he threw himself in front of the man.  When the gun went off, the shock
of the blast took his breath away – and still he managed to hold on,
wrestling the gun out of the other man's hand and tossing it aside even as
the other officers present pulled the man away and cuffed him.



It wasn't until he was looking up into concerned green eyes that Jethro
realized he was still laying on the floor.



"Don't move," Tony said softly as he pressed something against Jethro's side
– probably a handkerchief.



"Tony," Jethro said.



"I'm here, you big idiot," Tony said crossly.



"Idiot?" Jethro growled.



"You jumped in front of a *gun*, Jethro."



Jethro grimaced at the pressure against his side.  "For you."



Tony shook his head, blinking away tears.  "I'm not worth it," he whispered.



Jethro smiled.  "Yes, you are."



And then the paramedics were there, fussing over Jethro, and Tony slipped
away.



So where did that leave him?  Right where he always was – nowhere special.  And
there was no way he was taking time off to feel sorry for himself.  That was
not going to happen.  Jethro turned and walked out of Autopsy.



His desk phone was ringing when he got upstairs and he grabbed it quickly,
wincing at the pull in his side.  Twelve stitches, a little muscle damage –
nothing special.



"Gibbs," he barked.



"Jethro – it's –"



"Tony," Gibbs breathed.



~*~*~



"I thought you would have wanted to be downtown," Jethro remarked casually.
A soft snort sounded, the rushing air tickling his chest where a tousled
head rested.  He smiled as he carded his fingers through the soft
strands.  "Not
your style then?"



Jethro looked down his reclining body as the head currently pillowed on his
chest moved.  A green eye peered up at him as Tony pushed himself up onto
one arm and then rested his chin on the arm he'd flung across Jethro's body.



"Nah," he agreed softly, "so not my style.  That may be where my business is
headquartered, but this is my home."



Jethro bit back a sigh as he looked away from Tony's piercing gaze.  A light
tap on his bare chest made Jethro look toward his young lover again.



"Don't pull away from me, Jethro.  This is my home – but it doesn't mean I'm
married to the place."  Tony stared at him for a long moment before smiling
sadly.  "I know you're not overly fond of the place."



Now it was Jethro's turn to snort softly.  He and Tony had been together for
about a month and, in that month Tony had been to Jethro's house exactly
twice.  Both times Jethro had led the way into the house, trying to hide the
cringe that threatened.  He and Shannon had bought the house when they had
been expecting Kelly, wanting the security of owning their own property even
though they had the ability to live in base housing if they chose to do so.
Shannon had moved into the house full time when he'd been shipped overseas.
Coming back to the empty house after their deaths had nearly killed him –
but he couldn't bear to part with it.



At first the memories were nearly overwhelming.  A glimpse of a little girl
out the window could bring him to his knees.  The scent of coffee brewing as
he stepped from the shower hit him like a punch to the gut.  But, over time,
the sense memories had lessened and he'd pushed the other memories deep into
his brain, tuning them out almost brutally to get through the days.  Now he
found he could pull the memories out and actually enjoy the soft ache of
loss they produced – and he could finally realize how utterly blessed he had
been to have Shannon and Kelly in his life.



Tony's house, on the other hand, was beautifully decorated, spacious, and
screamed "old money" to anyone who glanced her way.  It almost made Jethro
ashamed of his own humble house,



"Please don't shut me out, Jethro.  Tell me what's bothering you."



The sound of Tony's voice brought his out of his reverie and he sighed
softly.  "I…" He hesitated.  How did he tell Tony that he didn't 'belong' in
the Georgetown brownstone with the manservant and the antiques – and the
pretentious limousine?  When Jethro looked up again, he saw that Tony was
patiently waiting for his answer.  "I –" He sighed and scrubbed a hand over
his face.  "I don't belong here, Tony," he finally said.



Tony grinned and pushed himself to a sitting position, the sheet pooling in
his lap, a naked knee peeking out from one edge.  Jethro's gaze wandered
from Tony's face to that tantalizing patch of skin and back again only to
find Tony pouting sexily.  "What do you mean you don't belong here?"



Jethro pushed himself upright, leaning back against the headboard of the
bed.  "This place," he said with a sweep of his hand.  "It's too much for
me.  My house –"



"Is this about your house not being as expensive as this one – again?" Tony
exclaimed.  "How can I convince you that it really doesn't matter to me
where we are – as long as the bed is comfortable and the company fantastic?
And, yes, that means that I'm with you."  Tony scooted forward and snuggled
up against Jethro.  "What say we sell this place?"



"Sell it?" Jethro asked quickly.  "But it's close to your work and—" He
stopped when he felt Tony chuckle against him.  "You did that on purpose,"
he snapped, slapping Tony lightly on the back of his head.



"Ow!"  Tony rubbed his head and grinned up at Jethro.  "I mean it, you
know," he said seriously.  "I would sell this place in a minute if you want
me to.  I could buy something new or—"



Jethro grinned.  "I can't see you living in my little house, Tony.  Sorry,
but you belong here."



Tony turned so he was facing Jethro.  "I think I know where I belong,
Jethro," he said softly, "and that's with you."   As Jethro opened his mouth
to protest, Tony put his fingers on Jethro's lips, silencing him.  "Don't
argue the point.  You can't win."



Jethro smiled and nipped at the fingers covering his lips, chuckling when
Tony pulled the digits away with a soft gasp of something that didn't sound
like pain.  He pulled the unresisting young man into his arms.  "Oh, I think
I already won," Jethro said as he leaned forward to capture Tony's lips in a
searing kiss.



They would sort the houses out at some point but right now housing wasn't
the only thing on his mind.


END