Title: Time Heals All Wounds

Author: Hawk

Rating: FRAO

Pairing: G/D

Series: Sequel to Keeper

Summary: Time has passed and it’s time for Tony to face his future.

A/N: A huge thanks goes out to my beta, Annie B., who was brave enough to tackle this monster for me.

~*~*~

It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree.  The wounds remain.  In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.  But it is never gone.

Rose Kennedy (1890 – 1995)

EMAIL: Hawk

~*~*~

 

July 1^st, 2004

The car growled softly as he eased it into a slow right hand turn.  He’d already been into ‘town’, driving around the area more in an effort to waste time and calm his nerves than for any desire to see the place.  Admittedly, the sights seemed different out the front window of the car, less formidable with his own hands on the wheel and no collar around his throat.

For a long time after he’d left, his throat felt bare.  At the oddest moments he would realize that his hand had wandered up and his fingers were caressing an imaginary line encircling his throat, the line where his chain had rested.  He had considered buying a necklace, something to wrap his fingers around, but had vetoed the idea when he realized that he was just looking for a substitute collar – something to make him feel safe.  If there was one thing he’d come to realize in the nine months he’d belonged to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, it was that safety was an illusion unless you could rely on yourself to keep you safe.  It was time he learned just how to do that again – and he had.

It had taken him a long time to learn to rely on himself again – a long time and a whole lot of miles – but he had done it.  Tony DiNozzo was once again self-sufficient… well, mostly.  A wry smile curved his lips and he shook his head quickly before turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

Driving down the winding road was like watching an old movie on a flickering screen.  He knew the players, he knew the scenery, and he even knew the plot.  Getting there, however, was where the mystery lay.  Each time he watched an old favorite, he would allow it to unfold in his mind’s eye just as if it was the very first time he’d ever watched – allowing himself to be awed by the plot twists even though he could recite every line by heart if he chose to. 

But this film was new to him in ways he’d never dreamed.  Sure, he’d seen another film that used the same location, but this time, the characters were older and, hopefully, wiser.  He hoped this one was even better than the last.  The characters had seemed to have such chemistry before.  He hoped they could capture that again, even though the roles were so vastly different this time around.

The neighborhood was surprisingly deserted for a weekend afternoon.  Granted, it was close to lunchtime and maybe people were inside eating, but the near silence of the street was disconcerting.  All too soon, the houses thinned and Tony found himself looking forward at the final curve of the road.  Holding his breath, he rounded the corner and pulled to a stop just ahead of the cul-de-sac and the house at the end of the road. 

It looked the same to him and that fact alone threw him for a moment.  Two years should have done something, changed something fundamentally – but the house looked exactly like it had that morning he’d walked away.  Sure the morning mist had partially obscured the house that day, allowing it to fade into nothingness long before the bend in the road would have hidden it from view.  But he’d watched in the rearview mirror until the last possible second anyway, his foot itching to press on the brake, his hand itching to put the old Mustang into reverse and go back inside where it was safe.  Instead, he’d watched as the ground fog had swallowed up the house and then turned his eyes forward – and toward both his future and his past.

~**~**~**~

August 19^th, 2002

Tony’s first stop had been the house in Hampton Beach.  As he’d driven north along I-95 he’d let himself remember his childhood, forcing his thoughts from the last time he’d been at his father’s house – and at his mercy.  At first glance, he realized he’d been happy as a child.  Even if his mother was frequently incapacitated by drink and his father absorbed in his work, there had been caring people in his young life.  Hell, his parents’ housekeeper, Maria Hernandez had taken him home with her on more occasions than he could remember, welcoming him into her house and into her family.  For many years her kids were like cousins to him.  He’d learned to speak Spanish, since it was the only language spoken in the Hernandez household.  He’d also learned to play stickball in the streets, sprinting away through the alleyways when he’d accidentally taken out a windshield with a hard hit one day.  Afterwards, he’d felt so guilty, he had asked Maria to track down the owner of the vehicle and paid him for the repairs.  Maria’s son, Mario, had just shaken his head and grinned as he called him el pequeño príncipe.  Tony had blushed furiously and been secretly grateful when Maria had taken him into her arms and told him how proud of him she was.  Teasing from the boys could be handled, but it was really Maria’s acceptance that mattered to him.

Maria had passed away while Tony was at the Rhode Island Military Academy – a heart attack, according to Mario, who had called him to inform him of her death.  It was the one time Tony had run away from school, sneaking out and taking the bus to New York and then the subway to Brooklyn.  He’d been picked up by the police at the gravesite, handcuffed, and driven back to school.  It was a long drive and he had plenty of time to reflect on just how much he hated his father.  Sitting alone in his room, night after night, on ‘lock down’, his clothes removed from the room so he wouldn’t sneak out again, only solidified that hate. 

Tony had finished high school and then left for Columbus, Ohio and OSU where he hoped to finally make his own way in the world.  Conning Daddy into paying for it would be icing on the cake; nice, but not necessary.  He’d thought himself pretty damned smart for stringing his father along for the four years necessary to get his degree in Physical Education, not needing to dip into the trust fund set up by his grandmother.  The fact that Tony’s father had figured him out and had his lover killed – and still paid for his last year of college – only spoke to the old man’s perseverance.  He hadn’t really figured out that Tony wasn’t coming home again until Tony had started school again – this time to get his degree in Criminal Justice.

Getting his second degree hadn’t stopped Tony’s father from harassing him – going so far as to sabotage one job after another, leaving Tony to job hop across the country in an effort to stay out of his father’s grasp.  And somewhere along the line, Tony had fallen in love with his chosen profession.

As the miles melted away, bringing Tony ever closer to his destination, he thought back over the first few years of his new career and realized he had some good times and met some good people.  Having his father rip the rug out from under his feet time and time again had only strengthened his resolve to succeed as a police officer. 

The slavery issue had hit his radar as he was recuperating from his hip and leg injury in his senior year of college.  The sight of the first slaves being paraded out and sold was indelibly etched on his retinas.  He’d even thought of becoming an advocate – right up until he entered the police academy and realized he was a risk junkie.  Life on the streets looked far more appealing to a young man of twenty-something than sitting behind a desk dealing with slave issues.  It wasn’t until he was one of them that he realized just how necessary advocates were – and how much they were in short supply.  By then it was too late to rethink his career choice and he watched his life go to hell, thinking that of all his choices, maybe that one hadn’t been his best.  Maybe if he’d chosen a different career, his father would have left him alone to live his life on his own terms.

As Tony drove down the long driveway to his father’s house, now his, he snorted at the thought of his father leaving him alone.  His father had wanted only one thing: him – any way he could have him, even on the end of a leash.

Tony stopped the car, still out of sight of the house and leaned forward, resting his head against the steering wheel.  He had stopped at the office of the security firm Jethro had hired to watch over the estate to pick up the keys to the gate and the front door.  But now, when he was so close to being back at the house where so much had gone wrong, he was having a serious case of the shakes.  The tremors started in his hands as he gripped the steering wheel, moving up his arms and then spreading through his torso.  He heard a soft sound, only belatedly realizing that tears were running down his face and the sound was panicked sobs coming from his own throat. 

It took a few long minutes, but Tony finally got himself under control.  Wiping the tears from his face, he risked a glance in the rearview mirror, almost not recognizing the face staring back at him with wide, wet eyes.

Banging his hands on the steering wheel, he growled, “Get a grip, Tony.  Your first test and you’re already backing down?  I don’t think so.”  With another glare at his disheveled appearance in the mirror, he sniffled once and then turned his gaze back to the driveway.  He took a deep breath and took his foot off the brake pedal, putting the Mustang into first gear and crawling forward.

As Tony rounded the bed and the house came into view, he found that the only way he was going to actually make the last of the trek was to not look at the imposing structure.  Finally coming to a stop in front of the house, Tony took another deep breath and sighed loudly.  “It’s now or never,” he muttered before opening the car door and stepping from the vehicle.

Goosebumps crawled over Tony’s skin as he turned the key in the lock of the obviously new front door and pushed it open.  Wiping the nervous sweat from his palms against the denim of his jeans, Tony stepped through the front door and into the foyer.  Even from where he was standing he could see the damage to the house.  The debris had been cleaned up but holes remained in the plaster as well as shattered light fixtures and splintered molding.

Tony found it hard to take a deep breath.  As he looked around, his head was filled with images: him at six, hiding under the dining room table; him at twelve, pulling his suitcase down the stairs ready to leave for the school in Connecticut; his mother, snoring lightly, passed out in the chaise in her receiving room at three in the afternoon; him at seventeen, ready to go off to college and arguing with his father about his choice of major; and him just four months ago, his leash wrapped around his father’s fist as he was forced to look up into his father’s sneering face.  Lifting a hand to his face, Tony could almost swear he still felt the resounding slap his father had gifted him with when Tony had mouthed off.  And then he’d been chained and forced into the small slave cage in his father’s study and his world had fallen apart as his father regaled him with the tale of how he’d had Leroy Jethro Gibbs killed in the hospital.

When Tony finally blinked and looked around, he realized that he hadn’t moved from the front entryway.  With a soft groan, Tony got to his feet, wincing as his knees protested the movement.  He figured he must have fallen to his knees when the images from his past overwhelmed him.  With a sigh he brushed the dust off the knees of his pants.  He’d known it would be difficult to come back, but he really hadn’t expected his memories to be so vivid – and to hurt so much.

“Naïve much, DiNozzo?” Tony muttered as he took a step forward, deeper into the house.  The doorway to his mother’s receiving room beckoned and he walked toward it, half expecting to see her passed out on the chaise lounge she was always reclining in.  He figured he’d rather see her there than his father – sitting in the Queen Anne chair in front of the fireplace as he’d been the last time he’d seen the man alive.

Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped to the doorway.  The chair was still there, the cushion spotted with blood, the striped pattern glaring at him from across the room.  Immediately, an image of him bent over the arm of the chair, his face pressed to the cushion, his arms cuffed at his back, flashed into his mind and he cried out as his fingers grabbed onto the wooden frame of the doorway.  Unmindful of the ragged splintered edges digging into his palms, Tony gasped in remembered pain as he ‘saw’ himself impaled on a hard cock, the man dry fucking him at his father’s command.  He felt the cock rip into him, tearing up his insides.

Shaking himself out of his remembered past, Tony took a shaky breath and turned from the sight of his mother’s room.  The hallway beckoned and he followed it, stopping in front of a closed door.  Reaching out, he turned the door knob and pushed the door open, revealing his father’s study, the slave cage still situated in front of his desk as if waiting to be filled.  The sight of the cage stopped him cold.  Wrapping his arms around his middle, Tony stared at the metal construct, fear coiling in his belly.

“Inanimate,” he muttered softly, “can’t hurt me.”   The last word ended on a soft sob and Tony realized he was crying again.  “Pussy,” he growled; his voice a mere whisper in the silence of the large house.

Rage filled him: rage at the system that had convicted him of a crime he didn’t commit and put him in chains, at the same system that had set him adrift again in a world he no longer understood, but most of all, rage at his father, the one man in this world who was supposed to love and protect him.  A primal roar filled his throat, tearing its way savagely out of his body and rending the air as he stalked forward.  Wrapping his hands around the bars of the cage he threw his head back and gave vent to all the anger and grief welling up inside of him.  The cage shifted under his hands and he manhandled it, hefting it slightly off the floor and propelling it toward the fireplace where it impacted the andirons standing sentry there with a resounding clang.

A stinging sensation in his hands confused him until he lifted them, turning them palm side up.  He snorted softly as he saw multiple abrasions on his flesh.  Turning his hands over, he saw that his knuckles were similarly affected and he realized he’d been pummeling the metal of the cage with his fists and the flats of his hands for long enough to tear the skin.

Tony sighed and turned from the room, pulling the door closed behind him as if by that act he would shut off the terrible memories as well. 

He found first aid supplies in the upstairs bathroom and cleaned the cuts on his hands.  Looking up into the mirror over the sink, he flinched at the fear in his own eyes.  Fear: he wouldn’t let it rule him.  Taking a deep breath, he left the relative safety of the bathroom and headed down the long hallway.

Tony bypassed his father’s bedroom as well as his own, knowing he wasn’t ready to face either of those rooms yet – and determined to get something out of this first visit before he left for the night and the afternoon was waning rapidly.  The house was equipped with electricity, but Tony knew he wasn’t ready to face the place alone at night and he sure as hell wasn’t staying there.  No, he’d taken a room at the Ocean Surf Resort in nearby Montauk, not someplace he’d likely be recognized.  Tony found it difficult enough to be out on his own without having to worry about running into people he knew “before”.  Being a slave had stripped his self-worth from him and he was fighting every second to regain it.  He wouldn’t be able to handle being reminded of his failures at this point.

His first stop after the bathroom was his mother’s bedroom.  As much as his father had hated her for dying on him, Tony had been surprised that the old man hadn’t stripped her room bare and gotten rid of her presence in the house entirely.  Instead, her room had been left in the exact condition that it had been in the day she died.  The maids had dusted and straightened it, but it remained perpetually stuck in 1989.

As Tony pushed the door open, he almost expected to smell the perfume his mother had always worn.  Years after her passing, he had been able to smell it when he’d walked into her room.  It was only after commenting on it one day that the maids admitted to spritzing her perfume around every so often – and always when he was coming home. 

Now the room smelled dusty and unused and Tony felt a pang of loss as he realized the past was really in the past and his mother’s presence was finally gone from her old room.  Stepping into the room brought Tony immediately back to when he when he was seven and had snuck into this room one evening, falling asleep against the far wall, hidden in the shadows, while waiting for his mother to come upstairs.  She and his father had been entertaining – people from the bank, he thought.  The thud of the door opening and hitting against the wall had roused his young body from a sound sleep and he’d knuckled the sleep from his eyes as he watched the butler help his mother into the room, one arm slung around her waist.  The maid, Rhonda, had followed, bustling in with efficiency and something that the younger Tony couldn’t quite identify.  He’d watched from the shadows as Rhonda had stripped his mother of her clothing, slipping a nightgown on over her head, and tucked her under the covers.  The sight of his mother being moved and positioned like a doll, made Tony frown and he’d opened his mouth the protest her treatment as Rhonda had straightened. 

Looking down at his mother lying on the bed, Rhonda had snorted.  “You old drunken fool,” she had muttered as she turned away.

His mother was drunk then, not ill.  He could handle that, was used to her being drunk and put to bed by the help.  Tony sat still, silent in the gloom of the bedroom, long after the bedroom door closed again, the soft glow of the nightlight in the bathroom casting the room in deep shadow.  After a while, Tony got to his feet, rubbing a hand over his posterior to ease the ache from sitting in one spot on the floor for so long.  A soft snore brought his attention to the bed and he eased over to it, his slippered feet making no sound on the rug.  The pale glint of light that seeped out past the half-open door of the bathroom cast his shadow down on his mother’s face and he took a half step to one side.  The soft light only intensified his mother’s pallor and Tony sighed softly.

Seven year old Tony reached out and laid his small hand against his mother’s cool cheek.  “I love you, Mommy,” he whispered into the darkness.  And he did.  He loved his mother with all the hope and longing a little boy could muster.  He also hated her, the disappointment of her infatuation with the bottle eating into his heart and making him jealous of the time he couldn’t spend with her.  One of the kids in his class, Samuel, regaled the other seven year olds with stories of his mother; stories of homemade cookies, Boy Scout meetings, and impromptu carpet picnics on rainy days.  Tony had none of those things and no longer even bothered to try to make stories up to try to paint a rosy glow over his family life.  He was seven and it was time he grew up, as his father liked to remind him.  Only babies worried about their mommies taking care of them and keeping them safe.  Big boys – men – took care of themselves.

Tony sighed softly and turned toward the door.  There would be no talking with his mother this night, sharing the secrets of his day.  The nights when his mother was coherent enough to care to listen to the story of her boy’s day were getting fewer and farther between but Tony hadn’t given up trying yet.  As Tony turned, he noticed that the drawer of his mother’s night table was ajar.  Watching for signs of his mother waking, he reached out with trembling hands and eased the drawer open further.  Inside was a leather-covered book.  The word “Journal” was embossed on the cover in gold foil.  As his fingers touched the textured surface of the book, his mother stirred, mumbling in her sleep.  Tony quickly pulled his hand from the drawer, shutting it carefully before moving to the door and letting himself out.

~**~**~**~

Tony blinked, shaking his head slightly to clear it from the vivid memory of sneaking out of his mother’s room and back into his own, slipping between the covers of his bed as he heard the heavy footsteps of his father passing his door.  It had jarred him that his mother’s room hadn’t been disturbed even after all this time.  Sure, there was evidence of a search, most probably by the police, but all in all the room remained unchanged from when he was a small boy. 

Hands shaking slightly, Tony pulled open the drawer of her nightstand.  He stared down into its empty depths for a few seconds before sighing loudly.  Before coming here he had known that the cops and federal agents had confiscated boxes worth of evidence, but he’d been hoping.  His knees suddenly giving out, Tony sat on the edge of his mother’s bed and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands as the reality of his situation sank in.  There really wasn’t much chance of him finding anything useful in this place.  It had been picked clean by the various vultures that had been circling his father’s corpse. 

Yet here he was, holding out hope for some little miniscule shred of… what exactly?  A name?  A tie to a family that had never wanted to claim him, that left him to the mercies of Michael DiNozzo?  Maybe all he needed was a glimpse into his mother’s psyche that would reassure him that, at some point in his lonely life, he’d been loved.

In the end, he’d spent three days roaming the hallways and room of his father’s house, finding scraps of information only, but nothing to set his mind at ease.  As he left for the final time, locking the door behind him, he knew he would never set eyes on this house again.  He couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry about that fact, though, instead feeling a sense of what could only be described as relief as he turned his back for the last time on what had been his childhood home and, most recently, his torture chamber.  Handing off the keys to the realtor he’d hired proved to be much easier than he’d thought.  He’d spent a week getting ready for this day.  He’d made contact with an auction firm who would sell everything in the house as well as a contractor who would make the repairs that were necessary before the house could be listed.  He had no forwarding address so he left the name of Alton Harrison.  The realtor would contact him when the house sold and the funds would be automatically deposited into his bank account.

It felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders as he got in his Mustang and drove away, the house receding from his rearview mirror long before he passed through the barred gates for the last time.

Turning his car north to pick up the road leading him to the L.I.E., Tony cranked up the radio, letting the music wash over him.  It didn’t take him long to get to Port Jefferson and the ferry that would take him to Bridgeport, Connecticut.  Traveling the length of the L.I.E would have given him time to say goodbye to the island that he had no intention of ever setting foot on again, but getting to Connecticut quickly was higher on his list of priorities.  He’d spent longer than he’d planned at the house so he had further to travel than he would have liked before he could rest.  Connecticut might be one of the smaller states, but he was emotionally drained and knew that driving late into the night wasn’t a smart thing to do.

~**~**~**~

August 26^th, 2002

The small Bed & Breakfast was mostly dark when he arrived, but an outside light had been left on and he was glad that, when he’d called to explain he would be late, the owner had said it was fine.  Finding another hotel room in the small towns of the northwest corner would have been nearly impossible.  It took him all of three minutes to register, get his key, and find his room.  It took him considerably longer to finally fall asleep, thoughts of the morrow and his uncertain welcome making him too edgy, even in his exhaustion, to relax.

Breakfast was long finished when Tony finally made his way down the grand staircase the next morning.  The innkeeper looked up at his approaching footsteps and smiled.  “Hungry?” she asked easily.

Tony blushed and nodded.  “Starving actually,” he admitted softly, running a hand nervously through his hair.  “But I know I’m really late.  If you could point me toward the local—“

“Nonsense,” the woman said with a motherly smile.  “Follow me, young man.”

Tony followed the woman into a large, well-appointed kitchen where she bade him sit at the well-worn oak table while she fixed him a satisfying breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast.  The coffee was hot and strong and Tony inhaled deeply of the heady brew before sipping at his cup, a low moan of approval passing his lips before he could stop it.  When he looked up, the woman was smiling.

“Glad you approve,” she said with a smile.  “Jack always liked it that way – strong, and he drank it black.”  She chuckled and shook her head.  “I never could drink it that way.  I’m a cream and sugar gal, myself.”

Tony smiled and relaxed as Mrs. Carmichael sat at the table with him.  Picking up her cup of coffee, she saluted Tony with it and took a long sip, ending the drink with a heartfelt sigh.  “Ah, that’s good coffee,” she breathed, blushing slightly when Tony chuckled.

After a minute of companionable silence, during which Tony finished his eggs and toast, Mrs. Carmichael shifted on the kitchen chair.  “So, Tony, do you have family in the area?”

Tony startled slightly, dropping his fork to clank against his plate.  “Um, I – yeah.  My mother’s family is in the area.”

The DiNozzo’s had sent Tony to the Kent School for the prestige it offered.  While there were many notable private preparatory high schools in the country, the Kent School had the added benefit of being in the hometown of Tony’s mother.  Her parents had still lived in town as did one sister.  Tony wouldn’t be entirely on his own.

For his part, Tony had been happy to get off Long Island and away from his parents.  He’d never gotten along with his father and his mother was usually too drunk to even know he was around so getting out seemed like a good idea.  The fact that the Kent School was an all boys school pleased the elder DiNozzo.  Tony figured his father probably thought that he wouldn’t have any choice but to behave with no girls around, thus making the all boys boarding school “safe”.  Little did he realize that boys will be boys and Tony wasn’t too inhibited by the thought of having a good time with members of either sex.  Hell, at fourteen it was all about feeling good.  The hormones had just kicked into high gear and the lack of girls didn’t much matter – not when the majority of the guys were just as horny as he was.  The phone call from the Dean must have been a hell of a shock to the old man.

Getting kicked out of the Kent School didn’t really faze Tony.  Inappropriate behavior – huh.  Getting picked up by the chauffeur was par for the course.  Tony figured his mother was drunk and probably didn’t even know he’d been expelled.  His father was too pissed at him to put in an appearance.  With a well-practiced shrug of indifference, Tony climbed into the car.

The first he knew something was up was when they hit the coast and headed east instead of getting on the ferry.  When he’d asked Oscar where they were going, the chauffeur just shook his head and raised the privacy screen, isolating him in the back of the limo.  Tony had shouted and then sulked when he realized the screen really *was* soundproof.  He tried the intercom but, eventually, even that was turned off with Oscar grumbling, “Just behave yourself!” before even the static disappeared. 

Tony amused himself by fiddling with the radio for a while and then he settled back into the soft leather seat and absently drummed his fingers on the arm rest.  After a little while he dozed off.  Getting interrupted in the middle of fucking his roommate hadn’t really put him in the right frame of mind to get any sleep – especially since he spent the night in the Head Master’s office, standing with his nose in the corner like a recalcitrant five year old.  His things had been packed for him and he’d been frog-marched from the room by the Head Master himself, one large hand on his left bicep, his feet stumbling and skipping over the ground to keep up with the man’s long stride. 

The car coming to a stop woke him and Tony knuckled the sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window.  Just then Oscar opened the door and Tony blinked into the sunlight as he emerged from the vehicle, looking up at an imposing gray stone building.

“Welcome to the Rhode Island Military Academy.”

Tony gaped at the man walking toward them, his back ram-rod straight, his arms swinging freely at his sides.  Military Academy.  Well damn.

~*~*~

Tony felt a little out of place as he walked around the grounds of the Kent School and it wasn’t just because the kids he passed seemed so damned young.  He had changed since he’d been a student – and getting expelled didn’t exactly make him an Alum now, did it?  No, he probably shouldn’t even be here but he hadn’t been able to resist a quick look around – since he was in town and all.  The ice hockey rink had been renovated and the sides enclosed and the athletic fields had all been given new life.  The addition of a field house rounded off the new athletics facilities, including two new basketball courts, weight room and indoor track.  For just a few minutes, Tony actually felt nostalgic for his teenage years.  The feeling passed quickly.

Getting back into his car, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.  Going to see his Aunt Marge wouldn’t be easy.  Hell, there was a very real possibility that she wouldn’t even see him.  They hadn’t exactly gotten along well.  He’d been a rebellious teenager and she had been an over-protective older sister who saw him as ruining her sister’s life – and as the most probable reason she had taken ‘to drink’, as Marjory had told him the second and last time they had met.

Driving up the long and winding road that led to the house his mother had grown up in, Tony let his mind wander back to the last time he’d been at the house.  His grandmother had invited him for Thanksgiving dinner.  When he’d arrived at the house, his grandmother’s driver, Tom, having picked him up at the school, she’d enveloped him in a powder-scented hug and told him that he was family no matter what happened.  He’d pasted a fake smile on his face and entered the house.  He already knew his aunt didn’t care for him and he was just hoping to get through the day without causing some kind of uproar that would get back to his father.  He didn’t need any more grief than he put up with on a weekly basis when the old man called him. 

Standing on the doorstep of his mother’s family home, Tony turned and looked out across the valley, seeing the sunlight glint off the water of the Housatonic River, startling at the sound of the door opening behind him.

“May I help you?”

Tony turned to see a petite woman standing in the doorway.  As he turned, he saw her eyes open wide, a soft gasp escaping her lips.  “Anthony!”

He smiled.  “Aunt Marge,” he said easily.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she pursed her lips as she gripped the edge of the door tightly.  “What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly.

Tony bit back a sigh.  She wasn’t going to make this easy.  Not surprising since she had basically accused him of killing his own mother.  It had happened right after the ceremony at the cemetery.  He’d still been pretty shell-shocked, having come straight to the cemetery from school and hadn’t been able to gather his thoughts quickly enough to retaliate.  Instead, he’d stood there, staring at her in horror as she had shredded him with her words and then turned and walked away from him.  He’d barely been able to catch his breath and his father had berated him for making a scene as soon as they were ensconced in the limo heading home.  His father had allowed him to stay one night and then packed him off to school again.  He’d never had the chance to grieve properly and now, looking into his aunt’s face, he felt his mother’s death like a punch to his gut all over again.

“Well?”

“I –“ He cleared his throat quietly.  “I was wondering if you had any of my mother’s journals.”

Marge snorted.  “And why would I give them to you?” she asked.

Tony stilled.  Did her words mean that she had the journals?  Or was she just toying with him, raising his hopes only to stomp on them at the last minute?

“I’m looking for something and I would like to read them, please,” he answered quietly, looking away from Marge’s intense gaze.  A soft harrumphing sound made him look up again a moment later.  Marge was staring at him.

“You’ve changed,” she said after a minute.

Tony smiled inwardly as he nodded to his aunt.  “Yeah, I guess I have.”

Marge continued to stare at Tony for a long minute before huffing out a breath and stepping to one side.  “Well, come on in then.”

Tony stepped into the house, looking around as Aunt Marge closed the door behind him.  “It – looks the same,” he said softly.

Marge chuckled.  “Yeah, I guess it does.  Come on then,” she said as she set off down the long hallway that, he knew, led to the large kitchen.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea in front of him, Tony found it easy to lose himself in his memories of the past.  Luckily, Marge seemed inclined to talk, keeping him planted firmly in the present. 

“I don’t think I can help you, Anthony.”

Tony startled.  “Tony – please, call me Tony,” he said.  Marge had been talking about his mother; about their childhood.  “What do you mean you can’t help me?”

Marge sighed.  “You’re here about your father, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly.

“My –?”  Tony sighed.  “Yes.”

It turned out, Aunt Marge hadn’t been lying.  She really couldn’t help him. 

“I’ve read your mother’s journals, Tony.  She never mentions your biological father by any name other than Tony and then only twice that I could find.  Hell, she never even told me about him and we were close once.  Of course, that was before she married – Michael DiNozzo.”  At Tony’s raised eyebrow, Marge smiled sadly.  “Michael thought your mother’s family beneath him and we weren’t encouraged to visit.  Your mother – I think she was just trying to survive.  And then she met Anthony – Tony.  I only knew about him because she sent a box of her journals home for storage.  She told me not to let anyone see them – ever.  That more than anything else made me take a peek.  But she never used his full name.  I can’t help you find your biological father, Tony.”

When Aunt Marge showed Tony the collection of his mother’s journals, Tony realized very quickly that Marge was correct; he would never find his answers in the journals.  After an unexpectedly pleasant afternoon of reminiscing about his mother, Tony found himself thanking his aunt for her time and heading back to the Inn.

~*~*~

August 29^th, 2002

Getting through customs had proven to be more problematic than he’d thought, though he supposed it could have been worse.  As it was, he’d been detained only long enough to verify his papers, the border guards becoming more alert when his name came up in the system as “freed slave”.  He’d been escorted from his vehicle and placed in an interrogation room while they verified his credentials.  With a sigh, Tony realized that anyone looking would now know where he was.  Not that he was hiding, but he had liked the feeling of newfound freedom he’d regained over the last week and it hurt something deep inside to realize how easily it could be taken away.  He also didn’t expect to be followed – but knowing people knew where he was, what he was doing, made his freedom seem that much more transparent and tenuous. 

And now he was standing on the knoll, facing the water and into the wind.  At least he had the sharp breeze to blame for the tears that were swimming in his eyes.  He needed that.  Needed to be able to say the wind was to blame and not the memories of the past that were nearly overwhelming him in this place. 

He never thought he’d be back here again, not once he’d been arrested.  At that point, he knew his former life was over.  But Jethro had given his life back to him and he needed to put some things to rest.  With a heartfelt sigh, Tony turned, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his blue jeans. 

The sight of the charcoal gray piece of marble took his breath away and he swallowed heavily before turning to look out over the water once more.  “I can’t do it, Mike,” he said softly, the tears that had been welling in his eyes finally spilling.  Tony took a deep breath, letting it out on a soft sob.  “I thought I could.  I thought this was all in the past – but—“ Tony sniffled, running a hand over his wet face as he turned to face the gleaming headstone again.  “But now, today, this all seems so fresh – like I just said goodbye to you yesterday.”  Tony stepped forward and laid his hand on the warm granite.  “I miss you so much, Mike, and I’m so sorry I haven’t visited more often.  You are always in my thoughts, but this, coming here is so hard for me.”  He sighed softly and then smiled tremulously.  “I think about you all the time, Mike – about what we had, our hopes and dreams.  And sometimes –“ He ran his fingers over the warm stone.  “Sometimes I think you got the better end of the deal.”

“Anthony?”

Tony spun around, his eye opening wide in surprise.  “Maman D’Anjou,” he breathed.

She was older than when they were last in this place together, but then so was he.  A piece of her hair had escaped the bun at the back of her head and whipped around her face, blown by the wind. 

“I did not think to see you here again,” she said after a moment of awkward silence.

Tony nodded and looked past her for a moment, out over the water.  When he looked back she had pushed the errant lock of hair behind her ear and was studying him, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips.  “What?” he asked self-consciously.

“You look good, Anthony.  I am very glad to see you – but how—?”

Tony smiled.  “I’m a free man, Monique.”

Maman D’Anjou gasped softly.  “It is true?  You are truly a free man?”

Tony nodded.  “Yes – I’m a free man again.”  He turned to look at Mike’s headstone again.

“And you came to see my Michel,” Monique said before he could finish his thought.

Tony shrugged.  “It was past time,” he answered.

“Yes, I supposed it was,” Monique answered, her voice guarded.

Tony turned back.  “Monique?” he began.

“There is no more Maman D’Anjou from you, mon petit?” Monique interrupted.

Tony blushed and pushed his hands into his pockets again.  “I’m not sure –“

Monique smiled sadly.  “It is okay, Anthony.”

But it wasn’t and Tony could tell his omission of the familial title hurt her feelings.  With a mental sigh, he straightened his shoulders, determined not to let Michel’s mother dictate his feelings – push him into something he wasn’t prepared for.  Determined to change the subject, Tony pressed on.  “So – how did you know I was here?”

Monique smiled.  “I’ve been staying here for the past few weeks actually.  Geoffrey told me that someone was trespassing – that he had spied a red Mustang on the road.  I had a feeling that it was you so I came to investigate.”

Geoffrey, the butler.  “You’re alone, then.”  Tony tsked and shook his head.  “What if it wasn’t me up here?”

Monique laughed gaily and put her hand on Tony’s arm.  “But it was, mon petit.  And I’m not alone.  Geoffrey is here, as always.  Come, now we must go back to the house for some refreshment – yes?”

Tony hesitated, perhaps a little too long, because Monique smiled and patted his arm before moving away from him.

“Take your time, Anthony.  I will leave you to say your goodbyes.  But please, don’t leave without coming to the house.”  She stared at him for a moment, just long enough for Tony to want to start fidgeting, before turning and walking away with a long, sure stride.

Tony watched Monique leave, waiting until her head disappeared beyond the crest of the hill, before he turned back to Mike’s headstone.  “She hadn’t changed much, has she?” he murmured.  “Still the same strong woman who helped me pick up the pieces after—“ He took a deep breath.  “Oh, Mike.  Why did you have to leave me?”

It was another two hours before Tony picked himself up off the ground where he’d settled to talk to his former lover.  He was talked out – and cried out, he hoped, and he noticed that his hands were shaking when he brushed the grass from his pants.  Taking a deep breath, Tony let it out slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.  He really didn’t want to go to the house and play nice with Maman D’Anjou but he knew he had to make an appearance.  He also knew that he couldn’t stay and make small talk.  It was debatable as to whether or not he’d be able to actually enter the house where he’d stayed after the funeral.  If he had to guess, he’d say no, he couldn’t do it.  But time would tell.  With a heartfelt sigh, he headed down the hill.

He had given the house a wide berth when he’d arrived, not wanting to advertise his presence to anyone who might be in residence.  Hell, he’d hoped the family was in town and he wouldn’t have to even see anyone.  But luck hadn’t really been on his side much in his life so it didn’t surprise him that someone was here at the summer house.  When he thought about it, he would have been more shocked to find the place empty this time of year. 

As he walked back down the hill, he veered to his left, heading toward the manor house in the distance.  He could see his Mustang parked along the road, but he would put in an appearance – it was the least he could do for a woman who had stood by him through everything that had happened.  He still hadn’t forgotten her presence in the courtroom in Baltimore or her appearance at his apartment the next day.  Her support helped him through a rough time – more than once – and he owed it to her to be polite.

Standing on the wide front porch, Tony shook his head.  He’d been right – he couldn’t go through with it.  He took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans before reaching out and pressing the doorbell.  The door opened quickly, startling him a little, and he realized that someone must have seen him walking across the lawn and been heading toward the door before he rang the bell.

“Anthony, please come in.”

Suddenly, Tony couldn’t remember the butler’s name and he blushed slightly as he shook his head.  “I – um - really can’t,” he stammered.  “Could you tell Monique – Madam D’Anjou?”

“Wait right here, please,” the butler said as he turned from the open door.

Tony watched the old man walk away from the open door and then turned, moving away from the door to lean against the balustrade.  Looking out over the front lawn, he realized that it was getting late.  Apparently he’d spent most of the day at Mike’s gravesite.  The trip had taken longer than he’d wanted the day before since he’d been detained at the border and he’d taken a hotel room about an hour away, not wanting to get to the gravesite late in the day and have to rush through his goodbyes.  He’d been antsy enough this morning that he’d grabbed an early breakfast and then headed out – and now he could see that the sun was long past its zenith and it would soon be twilight.  Just then his stomach rumbled and he chuckled.  Yeah – he’d missed lunch.

“Hungry, mon petit?”

Tony startled, turning quickly and bracing himself against the railing.

Monique smiled sadly.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”  She bit her lip as she watched Tony.  “Are you sure you won’t come inside?”

Tony shook his head, his hand gripping the railing tightly.  “I – I’m sorry, Monique.  I can’t.”

“I understand,” Monique said easily.  “Would you care to sit for a few minutes?  I can have something brought outside for us to eat.  It is a lovely afternoon.”

Tony looked around, wiping his hands on his jeans again.  He wanted so much just to get in his car and drive away; the tension of pretending everything was okay was just too much.  Instead, he found himself nodding and taking a step toward the wicker chairs that were as much a fixture of the house as the large swimming pool out back and the horses in the stables.

Monique disappeared back into the house and Tony allowed himself to breathe deeply again, trying desperately to calm his suddenly jangling nerves.  As he looked around, he realized just how much he’d missed because of his father’s greed.  Mike had once told him how much he loved this house and Tony knew that, if Mike were still alive, they would have spent a lot of time here.  His heart ached with renewed loss and he leaned back in the chair, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day.

“Tony?”

Monique’s voice pulled him from his reverie and he looked up as the woman set a tray down on the small table situated between the chairs.  He watched as she sat in the chair opposite his, waiting until she reached for a tall glass of what looked like iced tea before allowing himself to smile a little. 

“Hungry?” she asked over the rim of her glass.  At his hesitant nod, she smiled.  “Help yourself.”

Tony hesitated a moment longer, looking from Monique to the plate of sandwiches again before reaching out and snagging one for himself.  He took his time with the sandwich, eating slowly even though he wanted to choke it down quickly and get the hell out of there.  By the time he’d finished the sandwich, however, he’d managed to relax just a little more and when Monique offered another sandwich he took her up on the offer.

Before long, the shadows lengthened across the grass and Tony realized he’d passed the entire day on the D’Anjou property.  With a soft sigh, Tony got to his feet.

“I really should be going,” he said softly as he looked out over the front lawn.

“So soon?” Monique asked softly. 

Tony turned back and saw that the older woman was smiling again. 

“It has been good to see you, mon petit.  Will you come back again?”

Tony bit his lip, hesitating to promise something he couldn’t guarantee.  After a moment he nodded.  “Yeah, maybe someday, Monique.”

Monique D’Anjou opened her arms and Tony stepped forward.  Her arms went around him, holding him snugly, and he sighed as he bent his head and rested his cheek on the top of her head, wrapping his own arms around her compact body.

“Don’t forget about us, Anthony,” Monique said softly as she hugged him to her.  “After all we’ve been through, I will always be your maman.”

Tony swallowed the sob that was building in his chest.  Clearing his throat softly, he said, “Thank you, Maman.”

Monique pulled away and cupped Tony’s face in her hands.  She reached up and kissed him softly on first one cheek and then the other.  “Be safe, Tony.”

~*~*~

September 10^th, 2002

Crossing back into the United States was much easier than leaving it and Tony figured it was because the Canadian government wasn’t interested in keeping the problems of the U.S.  Rather, they seemed pleased to see him leave and head back over the border into the United States.  Frankly, he was surprised he’d been allowed to leave the country at all.  He had to hand it to Jethro for sheer thoroughness to detail.

He’d spent a week in Montreal, walking the same streets he and Mike had traversed so many years ago, before heading to Toronto and then back to the States through Buffalo.  After spending two days playing tourist at Niagara Falls, he headed into New York.  Since he’d started this odyssey in a counter-clockwise direction, he figured the next stop on the Anthony DiNozzo Magical Mystery Tour would be Columbus, Ohio.

Tony took his time getting to Columbus, staying a night just east of the city before heading toward the college campus in the early morning.  It was a Tuesday and Tony watched as students hurried across the campus, moving in pairs, groups and, occasionally alone, books wrapped in their arms or slung over their backs in backpacks or messenger bags.  The hustle and bustle of the busy campus took him aback for a few minutes and he just stood back and stared, amazed by the vitality of the scene playing out in front of him.

Seven years hadn’t brought too many changes to the physical appearance of the campus – but it sure had wrought changes to him personally.  Even after just a few minutes on the quad he began to get antsy with all the people milling around, their energy making his skin itch.  Everyone seemed so young and innocent and Tony took a moment to wonder if he’d ever really been that naïve.  He supposed he had – before he was sold into slavery, before Mike was killed, before he’d been slapped into handcuffs and removed from Maria Hernandez’s funeral, before he’d been shipped off to boarding school, stuck away in the country so he wouldn’t be an embarrassment to his father, before Leopold had been roasted just because Tony loved him more than his father, before his mother had started drinking before she even got out of bed in the morning just to blot out the fact of her unhappy marriage.  Innocence was hard to cultivate, but easy to kill in an environment of fear, anger, and distrust.

With a last look around, Tony began walking away from the hustle and bustle of the quad.  Within minutes Tony was in a quiet residential neighborhood, standing in front of the house where he and Mike had lived.  A shudder ran through his body and he wrapped his arms around his middle.  Just standing there in front of the house made his knees weak and he knew, even if the apartment was vacant, there was no way he could step foot inside.

“Anthony?”

The voice cut through him like a knife and he knew it had been a monumentally poor decision on his part to come here.

“Anthony DiNozzo?  Is that really you?”

Pasting a fake smile on his face and hoping that it wasn’t too sickly looking, he turned to face the woman standing hesitantly in front of him.  “Mrs. Kapetanopoulos!” he exclaimed maybe a trifle too cheerily.  Tony noticed that the older woman was starting to stoop a little and wondered briefly if her nephew was still helping her out with the property.

“I received the letter from Mr. Harrison,” she said easily, not seeming to notice the flinch in Tony’s gaze.  “Your Mr. Gibbs never did visit.”

‘He didn’t know,’ Tony thought as the landlord prattled on.  Jethro sure hadn’t asked what he was ‘inheriting’ along with his slave and Tony hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to ask but, truth was, he owned quite a few properties.  The house he and Mike had lived in together was just one of many, but it had been his first purchase.  Mrs. Kapetanopoulos had been on the verge of bankruptcy, the building beginning to fall into disrepair, by the time Tony had graduated from OSU the second time.  Bills were piling up and she had no one to help her take care of the property properly.  Contractors she had hired to make some minor repairs had taken her to the cleaners, charging a sum much greater than the worth of their shoddy work.  Tony had found out about it when he’d run into her one afternoon as he was leaving his job at Java Jive.

“So you’re here to check on the improvements?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

Tony gulped.  He hadn’t thought he would run into anyone he knew, especially not Mrs. Kapetanopoulos, but now that he had he was trapped.  How could he not go inside to look at the improvements, especially since he’d paid for them – and was paying her to look after his investment?  Damn, he was stuck.

Tony had bought the building after talking with Mrs. Kapetanopoulos that day at Java Jive.  She had been so distraught over the thought of losing her home.  She and her new husband had bought the multi-family house just after they were married and she had been struggling with its upkeep since his untimely death a few months before.  When Mr. Kapetanopoulos had been alive, he’d done much of the repairs himself, only bidding out what he couldn’t do on his own.  The local contractors knew him and knew they would never be able to put one over on the shrewd landlord.  His wife, however, was another matter altogether.  As soon as Mr. Kapetanopoulos was in the ground, they’d begun circling like vultures – and now they had struck.  Without outside help, she would lose her house and her income.

Once he’d looked into her eyes, Tony knew he couldn’t just let Mrs. Kapetanopoulos walk away without doing something to help.  After a moment’s hesitation, the words just tumbled out before he could stop them.  Mike’s face was forefront in his mind as he haltingly explained his proposition to his former landlady.  Only when he was finished did he look up and meet her stunned gaze.

“You want to buy my house?” she asked softly, doubt clouding her usually sharp eyes.

Tony nodded and licked his lips nervously.  “Yeah,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  “I thought that I could buy the house, take over all the financial obligations and you could look after my investment for me – for a modest salary, of course.  I would never kick you out,” he hastened to add as he saw her bite her lip nervously.  “I would have that written into the contract.  You would have lifetime use of your apartment and a salary for keeping an eye on things for me.  What do you say?”

Mrs. Kapetanopoulos shook her head.  “I can’t make that decision so quickly, Anthony.  May I – may I sleep on it?”

Tony nodded quickly and got to his feet, helping her up and escorting her out of the coffee shop.  “Of course,” he said easily, ignoring the fact that inside, he was shaking.  “Take your time, Mrs. Kapetanopoulos.”

Mrs. Kapetanopoulos looked up at him, a frown on her deeply lined face.  “Come see me tomorrow,” she said suddenly.  “Come for lunch.  I will have your answer for you then.”  And with that, the old woman turned and walked away, her head held high.

Tony watched her walk away, admiring her strength – and wondering at his own stupidity.  What the hell had he been thinking?  The last thing he wanted to be was a ‘slum lord’.  Hell, the only reason he’d even considered buying the place was because Mike’s face had popped into his mind – and then the rest of him, laid out on the sofa, naked.  Damn.

And now here he was, staring into her questioning eyes and he found himself nodding.  “Yeah, I’d love to take a look at the improvements,” he said.   And if there was just a hint of a quaver to his voice, Mrs. Kapetanopoulos ignored it.  Going into the house wasn’t on his “List of Things to Do in Columbus” but it looked like his plans had changed.  Wiping the nervous perspiration from his hands onto his blue jeans, Tony followed his former landlady into the house, swallowing his feeling of agony that clenched at his chest at the sight of the familiar surroundings.

“You okay, Anthony?”

Tony started at the sound of Mrs. Kapetanopoulos’ voice, the concern evident in the tone.  “T-Tony,” he stammered.  “Please, call me Tony.”

She smiled then, her face lighting up and Tony thought the smile made her look younger for just a moment – or maybe it was the way the sunlight coming in through the hall window illuminated her, casting a nimbus of light around her head.

Cocking her head to one side, she nodded.  “Tony it is.”  Turning, she headed down the hallway.  She was about five steps ahead of him when Tony finally got his legs to move and he followed at a brisk pace, catching up to her just as she reached the base of the stairs leading to the second floor.  His steps faltered for just a minute as he turned his gaze upward.  The stairs took a sharp turn, the landing hiding the second floor from his gaze and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, thankful for the fact that he couldn’t see past the first eight stairs.  He and Mike had lived up there.  His stumbling feet continued on their way and he tore his gaze from the stairs, following the retreating back of the landlady as she bustled along the hallway, obviously heading to her apartment, which was situated in the back of the building, overlooking the enclosed backyard.

Tony was surprised when Mrs. Kapetanopoulos bypassed the door to her apartment and continued on to the back door.  His surprise turned to amazement as they stepped outside.  The small backyard had always been neglected; a small vegetable garden valiantly striving to survive in one corner and a small swath of patchy grass covering the remainder of the area.  He looked down at the small deck he was standing on, the light colored wood gleaming in the sunlight.  There was a small table and chairs, an umbrella providing some shade for the table.  A covered grill was just behind the table, up close to the house.  Two steps led down from the deck to the lush grass.  Three trees were placed close to the obviously new privacy fence, its presence in stark contrast to the chain link he remembered from when he and Mike lived there.  Off to the left, the vegetable garden resided, now in a beautifully framed raised bed.  Behind it was a small herb garden and to the right was a flower garden, the autumn blooms dazzling against the light wood of the fencing.

“Mrs. K. – it’s beautiful,” he breathed softly.

“You made this possible, Tony.”

Tony turned to look at her and found the landlady smiling at him.  He blushed, dropping his gaze.

“Tony,” she said easily, “this yard never looked so good before.  I’ve always loved this place but never had the extra money to do anything like this.  Your money helped make this something special.  The kids who live here – they love it.  We spend a good deal of time out here just talking – hanging out, as you kids say.”

Tony snorted softly.  “You kids?  Mrs. K. – I’m not a kid anymore.”

Mrs. Kapetanopoulos looked him over, a smile blooming.  “I guess you aren’t, Tony.  You’ve grown into quite the man now.”

Tony blushed and looked away.  Mrs. K. chuckled softly and then invited him back into the house with a, “Come on, then.  I want to show you the other improvements.”

Tony followed Mrs. K. back into the house meekly, his head turning once more to stare at the beautiful back yard.  If this much had changed outside, he was at a loss to guess what was awaiting him in the house. 

Tony wasn’t surprised when Mrs. K. bypassed her own apartment and headed up the stairs to the second floor.  Taking a deep breath, Tony followed.  There were four apartments in the house: two on the lower level and two on the second floor.  He and Mike had lived in the apartment overlooking the overgrown backyard.  The view from their apartment would be much different today.  In their day, they had kept the shades drawn over the windows looking out onto the seedy plot of ground, its unkempt look only adding to the feeling of desolation there.  After the third time Mike came home to Tony staring out the window, his arms wrapped tightly around his body, Mike put up the shades and they stayed pulled almost all of the time.  Plenty of light came in through the other windows and having a couple of windows covered (in the bathroom and the spare bedroom) didn’t detract from the hominess of the place at all.

Much to Tony’s relief, Mrs. K. took him to the front apartment.  Knocking lightly on the door, she waited, humming softly under her breath.  Tony fidgeted at her side, looking over his shoulder now and then, his gaze continually pulled toward the door at the end of the hallway.  The noise of the door in front of them opening pulled Tony’s attention back and he drew in a breath as Mrs. Kapetanopoulos greeted the young woman standing in the door way.

“Tony, I would like you to meet Kimberly Swift.  Kim, this is Anthony DiNozzo, the—“

Tony stepped forward quickly.  “Just call me Tony,” he said easily, interrupting the landlady before she could spill the beans about him owning the building.  Mrs. K. gave him a questioning look but he just shrugged slightly and extended his hand toward the young woman standing in the doorway.

“I’m Kim,” the young woman said shyly.  “And you’re the what?”

Tony grinned.  There was no way he was telling her he owned the building.  Not that he was ashamed of the fact, but letting people know about his deal with Mrs. K. would undermine her authority and there was no way he wanted to make trouble for her.  “Me?” he said easily.  “I’m just a past boarder here.  I was passing through Columbus and thought I’d stop in and say hi to Mrs. K.  I hear there have been some improvements made since my day and Mrs. K. was just showing off her apartments.”

“Well, that was nice of you – stopping by, I mean,” Kim said.  “What can I do for you?”

Mrs. Kapetanopoulos smiled and glanced up at Tony before turning her attention to Kim once again.  “I was just wondering if I could show your apartment to Tony.”

“Oh!  Did you live here, then?” Kim asked.

Tony shook his head.  “No, I actually lived just down the hall there, but I had friends in this apartment and Mrs. K. was telling me of all the work they did in here.”  He held his breath as he waited for Mrs. K. to ask him what the hell he was talking about – or say something else to give lie to his bullshit but, when she didn’t say anything, he risked a glance and found her smiling genially and nodding her head.

“Yes, Tony had good friends living here.  Do you mind if we come in?”

Kim looked a little unsure of the situation but she stood back and let them enter.  Tony allowed Mrs. K. to show him the updated kitchen, bathroom and the new windows before thanking Kim and heading toward the door.  “Our next project is fixing up the porches and possibly adding second floor balconies,” she said as they exited the apartment.

Tony thanked Kim for her hospitality and then followed Mrs. K. out into the hallway.  “Balconies?  I think that’s a great idea.” 

As they walked down the hallway, Mrs. K. put her hand on Tony’s arm, stopping his progress.  “Do you want to?” she asked, nodding toward his old apartment.

Tony stilled for a moment before shaking his head.  “I don’t think I can,” he said after a minute.

Mrs. K. patted his arm and then led the way down the stairs and into her own apartment.  “I understand your reluctance, Tony.  The changes in your old place are very similar to what you saw in Kim’s apartment and they are all due to your generosity.”

Tony blushed and shook his head.  “I haven’t done anything,” he protested softly.

“But you have.  You’ve given this old place new life – as you have to this old girl,” she said with a smile.  “I’m glad you’ve come to visit us finally.  It’s been too long.”

Tony nodded.  “I’ve been a little busy,” he said by way of explanation.

As Tony was walking away from the apartment building a couple of hours later, he sighed.  He was glad he came to Columbus and maybe even that Mrs. K. had stumbled upon him standing in the street.  It had been difficult going into the house, but he’d put some old ghosts to rest in the last couple of hours and his heart felt a little lighter for it.

~*~*~

September 13^th, 2002

Three days later saw Tony heading westbound out of Columbus on Interstate 70, a cup of coffee at his right hand and music blaring.  It was roughly six hours to his next destination and three until he’d stop for lunch.  A smile crossed his face as he thought about where he was going to stop; a little diner off I-74 at the outskirts of Indianapolis.  He’d stopped there a few times on his travels and was salivating already at the thought of eating a double deluxe burger for lunch.  That diner was also the best place to refill his coffee mug for the remainder of his trip.  Burgers weren’t the only specialty of the diner. 

Tony snorted softly.  Even Jethro would be impressed with the quality of the coffee at the diner… ‘Even Jethro.’  He sighed.  ‘Well, damn,’ he thought, his hands clenching on the steering wheel as he fought to calm his breathing.  Thus far he’d managed to keep his thoughts of Leroy Jethro Gibbs to a minimum, even when surrounded by so many places in Columbus that reminded him of the man, so why now?  Why did the memories take his breath away now, when he needed to be able to concentrate on driving?  With sheer force of will, Tony brutally pushed all thoughts of his former owner out of his head.  There would be time to think about Gibbs – but not right now, not while he needed his wits about him.

The burger was as good as he remembered, maybe even better.  Wiping the last vestiges of “special sauce”, pickle juice, and grease off his chin, Tony sighed contentedly and eased his chair back from the table just a few inches.  He was sated, his stomach actually slightly distended, yet there were still four uneaten homemade steak fries on his plate.  Tony groaned as he contemplated the uneaten food.

“You used to be able to polish your plate – every time.”

Tony jumped, startled at the thin, reedy voice.  Turning slightly, Tony peered over his left shoulder to where a petite older woman stood; her hands on her slim hips, her long salt and pepper hair pulled back from her face in a slightly frayed bun.  It was her eyes that drew Tony in – and told him who she was.  It had been seven years since he’d been there – ten since he’d been a semi-regular, towing Mike along on his quest for the “Quintessential Burger”.  Mike always told Tony he was crazy for traveling three hours for a burger, a meal that would take thirty minutes to finish – tops, but Tony was nothing if not persuasive, and he always convinced Mike to go along with him.  Well, almost always.

It was on one of those trips he’d made alone that Chloe had first approached him.  As he’d seated himself in a corner booth, moping about Mike begging off “the Diner Trip of Doom”, as his lover liked to call it, Tony looked around at the familiar and unfamiliar faces.  The familiar were the wait-staff mostly, although he recognized the woman working the cash register (Kathy) and the short-order cook whose face appeared at the window to the kitchen every now and again (Maurice).  The unfamiliar were most of the other patrons, although he’d been to the diner enough by this time that he recognized a few of the “regulars”.  He wondered if that made him a regular too.

“It does, you know,” a voice said. 

Tony looked up, startled, and found himself looking at a feisty woman in her late thirties (Tony prided himself on being able to tell a person’s age with uncanny accuracy) with jet black hair that was pulled back from her face into a jaunty pony tail – and one blue eye and one green eye.  “I-it does – wh-what?” he stammered.

The woman slid into the seat across from him and smiled.  “Makes you a regular around here.”

Tony frowned.  “How did you know what I was—“

“Thinking about?” she interrupted.  “Easy.  I’ve seen that look before on the faces of people who’ve been here a few times.  It happens when they realize they recognize some of the faces around them – and they wonder if that makes them a regular.”  She grinned.  “You shouldn’t have to ask.”

Tony snorted softly.  “I didn’t,” he said as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.  It was a defensive move and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.  She was intimidating, damn it!

The woman laughed then, a high girlish giggle that had Tony smiling in spite of himself.  “I’m Chloe,” she said after a minute, holding out her hand. 

Tony shook her hand, finding her grip surprisingly strong.  “I’m Tony.”

“And your missing companion?”

Tony blushed.  “Um – that’s Mike.”

“Mike,” Chloe said with a small nod, as if committing the name to her memory for later use.  “How long have you two been together?”

Tony gaped.  “T-together?”

Chloe laughed again.  “Yeah – together.  And don’t even try to deny it.  You two are so obviously in love it makes my teeth ache.”

Then it was Tony’s turn to laugh and, just like that, a friendship was formed.  When Chloe delivered his burger and fries, Tony found out she was the owner of The Bricks and a devout racing fan.  She sat with him as he ate and their friendship took root.  Tony remembered Mike’s reaction to the news of his new friendship; a snarky comment about his ability to flirt with anything that moved.  It wasn’t until Mike had the chance to meet Chloe that he had become enamored of her as well. 

As Tony looked up into those striking eyes once again, he was catapulted to the past and it took him a few moments to regain his footing, so to speak.  When he caught his breath, he realized that Chloe had sat down opposite him as she had the very first time he’d met her.

“Has the quality gone down that much then?” she asked sharply.

Tony snorted and shook his head.  “You know it hasn’t.  It was wonderful – as always, but I’m not a kid anymore.  My appetite isn’t as big as it once was.”

Chloe grinned and leaned back, visibly relaxing.  “Fair enough,” she said.  Her frankly appraising gaze made Tony look down at the table.  “You’ve changed,” she said after a moment’s silence.

Tony smiled as he raised his eyes.  “Yeah – I guess seven years will do that to you.”

Chloe nodded, seeming to study him and Tony had to brace himself not to visibly flinch under her intense gaze.  “Last I saw you, you were heading to Peoria.”

Tony nodded, his tongue poking out to lap quickly at his top lip.  “I was,” he said evenly as he doodled on the tabletop with his finger tip.

Chloe tilted her head to one side.  “But you’re not living there any longer, are you?”

Tony shook his head, not even bothering to wonder how this amazing woman knew so much – just from a two minute conversation.  He sighed softly.  “No, I’m not living in Peoria anymore.”

“Goin’ back for a visit then, I suppose.”

Tony looked up then, surprise widening his eyes for a moment.  “Maybe I’ve already been there,” he said a trifle defensively.

Chloe laughed then.  “Tony, if I had to guess I’d say you’ve just come from Columbus and, for you to be passing through here, you’re on your way to Peoria.”  She must have seen the shock in his eyes then because she reached out and gently patted his hand.  “You always did wear your heart on your sleeve, dear boy.  The sadness in your eyes tells me that you were in Columbus – where you and Mike were the happiest.”

Tony blinked away tears at her words.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

“Sorry for having loved – and lost?” she asked, shaking her head slowly.  “No, Tony, don’t ever be sorry for having loved Mike.  You two were beautiful together.  And if loving isn’t what we were put on this Earth for, what is?”

“Suffering?” he asked softly.

Chloe tsked.  “No, Tony.  We are meant to live our too short lives to the fullest, loving deeply and passionately.  And, if it breaks our hearts when our loved ones leave us, it also makes us stronger.”

Tony snorted softly.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Chloe asked in mock outrage.

Tony shook his head and then shrugged.  Finally, he sighed softly and pushed to his feet.  “Does it really matter?”

Chloe stood also.  “It matters to me.”

“Why?  We haven’t even seen each other in seven years?  What makes you care about what happens to me?” Tony asked seriously.  Hell, people he knew and kept in touch with hadn’t cared about what happened to him so why Chloe?  Why would someone he and Mike had been friendly with ten years ago care about what happened to him?  It made no sense to him.

Chloe smiled.  “You’re family, Tony.  Me and Christine – we felt like we’d adopted you and Mike.  It may have started out here at the diner, but it’s not like I invite all my customers over to my house.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile at that.  Chloe and Christine had become like surrogate aunts to he and Mike and they had spent quite a few long weekends in Indianapolis because of it.  After Mike had died, he’d distanced himself from everyone, Chloe and Christine included.  While he turned down offers of a weekend away, he still occasionally traveled to Indianapolis for a burger.  Those trips had, however, become very infrequent and, once he’d moved on from Peoria to Philadelphia, he hadn’t been back and their correspondence had dwindled slowly from monthly newsy letters to a simple card at Christmas.  Since his arrest and conviction, he’d had no contact with any of his friends and now that he was standing in front of Chloe he realized just how much he’d missed the two women.

“Thanks, Chloe,” Tony said sincerely.  “Mike and I –“ Tony paused to clear his throat.  “We really appreciated the time we spent with you two.”

Now it was Chloe’s turn to look away.  Tony watched as she visibly pulled herself together before turning back to look at him again.  “What?” she said a little defensively.

Tony tilted his head to the left, staring into her eyes for a minute before visibly straightening and looking around the diner.  “Where’s Christine?” he asked after a minute.  Not giving Chloe the chance to answer, he continued.  “Is she home?  Still sick?  Until now, I didn’t even realize what was missing – just that something was.  She always –“ Tony stopped talking as he turned his gaze back to the woman standing silently in front of him.  It was the look in her eyes – the wounded, longing look, that finally drove it all home for him and, when he finally realized what must have happened he could have kicked himself for his insensitivity.

The last Christmas card from the two women had been a picture of the two of them, arms around each other, their two bald pates gleaming in the glow from the Christmas tree lights.  The chemotherapy had taken its toll on Christine (and Chloe had shaved her head in a show of solidarity).  Her cheekbones were more pronounced, her eyes rimmed in darkness, the skin looking almost bruised.  It was breast cancer and Tony had cried when he read the note enclosed with the card.  He’d written a short note back to the two women, vaguely hinting at a visit.  The visit hadn’t happened and then, the next fall he’d been arrested.  Christmas cards had been forwarded to Jethro’s house but Tony hadn’t opened them, unable to bear the well-wishes that were bound to be enclosed.  Instead, he’d bundled them up and put them away.  With a slow flush of shame burning his cheeks, he realized he’d never pulled them out again – never opened them.

“When?” he asked quietly, his voice cracking with emotion.

Chloe took a deep breath, blinking back tears.  “January,” she said softly.

Tony took a step forward and pulled the much smaller woman into his arms.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair, feeling her nod in return.  He wasn’t surprised when Chloe pulled away from him, turning her face up and smiling tremulously.

“Let’s not get into this here, okay?” she said quietly.

Tony nodded and looked down at his empty plate.  “I – I’m actually just passing through.”

“Don’t go, Tony.  Stay with me for just a couple of days – time to get caught up.”

Tony shook his head slowly.  “I don’t think –“

“Please,” Chloe said.  “Please, Tony – stay.”

~*~*~

October 7, 2002

A couple of days turned into a couple of weeks as Tony reconnected with Chloe.  Tony had been uncomfortable at first, but had relaxed slowly over a couple of days, eventually settling into an easy routine with the older woman.  Chloe worked the breakfast and lunch shifts, leaving the diner around two o’clock.  That left most of the afternoon and every evening for the two old friends to reconnect.  Tony found the time spent in Indianapolis to be cathartic and, when he finally hugged Chloe goodbye it was with moist eyes.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“And you,” Chloe said.  “Having you here has been – healing.”

Tony blushed lightly. 

“Come back and visit again some time, won’t you?”  Chloe smiled up at him.  “And don’t make it another seven years.”

“I promise,” Tony said with a last fierce hug.  Setting Chloe back on her feet, he placed a light kiss on her forehead and then walked away, getting into his car and pulling out of the driveway before he could second-guess his decision to leave.  He’d already dallied for too long and it was time to move on.

The trip to Peoria was uneventful and Tony made good time, coming up on the city limits in almost exactly three hours.  Pulling into the truck stop just off the first exit of the interstate, Tony got out and stretched, groaning softly when the vertebrae in his back snapped and popped, easing the tension of the drive almost immediately.

The autumn colors were vibrant, and Tony had a definite sense of time passing him by.  For some reason that thought bothered him, as if he had someplace to be, someplace he was needed.  Tony snorted softly.  He was unemployed, obscenely wealthy, and unencumbered by any family ties.  He was free to do as he wished, probably for the first time ever in his life – and all he could think about was that something was missing.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, he climbed back into his car and headed into the city.  It amazed him how familiar the layout of the city seemed.  He drove almost on auto-pilot, the streets unfolding in front of him almost as if he’d never moved away and, soon, he found himself on the street where his apartment had been.  Pulling into a parking space, he climbed out of his car and locked the doors.  He turned the collar of his jacket up, thrust his hands deep into his pockets and headed down the street.

Nothing had changed – and everything had changed.  The people, the places, the scents, hell, even the weather – he remembered it all.  But just as it all seemed infinitely familiar, it was equally alien to him.  The people were busier, more apt to snap at the slightest provocation.  The houses were a little dingier, as if time had taken its toll on the little neighborhood and the owners didn’t care to put any effort into the upkeep of their property.  Hell, even when he lived there, the neighborhood wasn’t affluent but now it seemed to be on the verge of being claimed by abject poverty.

Tony walked for a long while, up and down the streets, even once pausing in front of the building where he’d lived after he’d graduated from the academy.  Funny how he had no desire to visit that place.  It was almost as if this had just been a short rest stop for him and he’d not left anything behind when he’d moved on – well, except for maybe his ex-partner.  Him, he’d like to visit – if he could work up the courage.  Even though he’d kept in touch, Christmas cards and a yearly (sometimes bi-annual) letter, he felt like he’d left him in the lurch.

In the end it took five days, not that he was waiting for the weekend to roll around or anything.  He could have gone to the house in the evenings if he’d worked up the nerve to do so any earlier.  Five days – and it put him there on a Saturday.  Saturdays at the Campanelli house tended to be a little crazy, but then it had been a few years since he’d visited and just maybe things had changed.

Pulling up to the house, Tony had to smile.  John and Linda’s three kids were tearing around the yard along with at least two other kids who Tony vaguely recognized as having been in and out of the Campanelli’s house when he’d been there previously.  And then he watched two more run around the side of the house, joining the five already chasing each other in the front yard.  As Tony chuckled at the sight, the front door opened and his ex-partner stepped out onto the front porch.

John was a little shorter than Tony, a little stockier, and about ten years older.  The intervening years had been good to him and Tony thought he wore them well.  Granted, it had only been four years but those four years had made Tony into quite a different man than he’d been when he’d been John’s partner.  To Tony it looked like John had  barely aged while he, himself, felt eons older if not necessarily wiser.

As Tony was debating about simply driving away and leaving John to his family, his ex-partner turned his gaze to the car.  Tony saw the exact moment John realized who was sitting in the old Mustang and he was pleasantly surprised at the genuine smile that crossed John’s face.  As John started down the steps, Tony sighed.  It looked like he was going to be visiting whether he was ready or not.

John hit the grass as Tony stepped from the car.  Tony watched as his former partner tilted his head, appearing to frown momentarily before putting his hands on his hips.  “So – what brings you here, DiNozzo?” John growled.

Tony stumbled to a halt, all of his insecurities and fears rushing to the forefront of his mind and he had to lock his knees so he wouldn’t drop to the ground where he stood.  John must have seen the look of panic he was sure had crossed his face because his partner took a few quick steps forward, coming to rest at his side.  He reached out to touch and Tony flinched away automatically, cowering just a little before stammering out an apology.  John looked at him with such open horror on his face that Tony turned away.

“I’m –“ John huffed out a breath.  “Jesus, Tony, I’m sorry.”

Tony gulped, swallowing down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.  He’d seen that look on peoples’ faces before – when he’d been tethered at the end of a leash, shackled, enslaved.  But he was free now, damn it.  Why couldn’t he start acting like it?

“Tony?” John said and Tony could hear the hesitation in the other man’s voice.  “Would you come in – talk?”

Tony shook his head, stuffing his hands deep into his jacket pockets.  “I – I can’t,” he said softly.

John sighed then and it took everything Tony had not to flinch away again.  “How about a drink then?  We – we could sit out on the porch.  I’d just like to talk, Tony, and I’m thinking you wanted to talk as well or you wouldn’t have driven all the way out here.”

Tony took a breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly.  Once he’d calmed his nerves a little bit, he turned back around to face his ex-partner expecting to see disgust or censure in his eyes.  The look of concern on John’s face threw him and he looked away quickly, unsure how to handle the genuine caring he saw there.

John began walking back toward the house and Tony hesitated, looking back over his shoulder to where his car sat.  It would be so easy to just turn around, climb in his car, and drive away.  Hell, he could probably get the car started before John hit the top of the steps if he moved right now.

“Tony?”

Damn, he’d waited too long.  Tony closed his eyes briefly as he took another calming breath – in, hold, and out.  Opening his eyes again, he turned to face John, who was standing on the top step of the porch looking across the lawn to where Tony stood, indecisive about his next move.  As John raised an eyebrow, a certain prelude to calling to him again, Tony sighed and started walking toward the house.  He even thought about trying on a smile, but wasn’t sure he could pull it off and if he grimaced John would be sure to keep digging until he found out exactly what was wrong.  Tony didn’t think he could possibly go into the details of the past four years without falling apart totally and that wasn’t on today’s agenda.  Hell, it wasn’t on this year’s agenda if he had anything to say about it.

Apparently John didn’t know about Tony’s agenda because he started right in with the big question: “What have you been up to for the past two years?”  Yeah, he hadn’t sent out any Christmas cards last year and John wasn’t one to let that slide.  The first tough question was followed up by: “Tony, I can tell something is wrong.  What’s happened to you?”

And somehow he found himself opening up to John, telling him about his father setting him up to take the fall for embezzlement and smuggling charges.  He even told him the real reason he’d left Peoria in the first place.  As he talked, he watched his own hands, his fingers grappling with each other, pulling and twisting in agitation.  Once he saw John shake his head slightly, barely looking away from where Tony was sitting and Tony figured someone had come to the door, probably John’s wife Linda. 

All in all it took four hours for Tony to talk himself out.  When he finally sat back and took a breath, closing his eyes as he wiped away the moisture that had built up in them.  He hadn’t been crying but letting everything out had been cathartic and he felt – cleansed.  Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked around. 

The yard was empty.  Dusk was falling and the street lights were on.  As Tony stretched, he noticed that lights were on in the house as well.  Blushing, he looked at John.  “Sorry, man,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.  “I didn’t mean to take up your entire day.”

John got to his feet with a little groan, smiling when Tony winced.  “It really isn’t a problem, Tony.  I’m glad I could be here for you.”

Tony shuffled his feet a little and ran a hand through his hair.  “Yeah, well, I feel really –“

John reached out quickly and Tony stepped back, his breath catching in his throat.  John held up his hands.  “Sorry, Tony.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”  He sighed.  “Look, I – why don’t you come in and have some dinner with us?”

Tony shook his head.  “No – no, I don’t think – that would be a very good idea.  I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.  Y-you should go in – be with your family.”

John nodded, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.  “Okay, but will you be back?”

Tony shook his head.  “I don’t –“

“Please, Tony.  I’d like to see you again before you move on.”

Tony sighed.  “M-maybe I’m on my way out of town now.”

John grinned.  “No, you’re not.”  He stared at Tony for a moment longer.  “Please Tony – come back again.  Tomorrow?”

Tony looked at his car.

“Tony?”

Tony turned back to where John was waiting for his answer.  He wanted to get in his car and just drive away – leave Peoria and never return.  Instead, he found himself nodding.  “Yeah, I’ll come by tomorrow.”

~*~*~

Tony felt awful for having dumped on his ex-partner and that made him uncomfortable.  He really didn’t want to return to the house, but he’d promised.  Yes, Tony had reneged on promises in the past, sometimes even when they really counted, but Tony didn’t want to renege on this one.  John had been his first official partner after he’d become a policeman.  Tony had idolized the man to some extent.  John had opened up to him; his home and family all part and parcel of their burgeoning friendship.  And Tony had turned his back on John and walked away, with no good explanation.  He owed him.

Tony kept telling himself that was the only reason he found himself pulling up in front of John’s house the next afternoon.  He’d hung around the hotel room long enough that he wouldn’t be intruding on the Campanelli’s lunch and yet getting him to the house early enough to give him plenty of time to visit and get out before dinner.  As Tony climbed from the car, he straightened his jacket, tugging on the cuffs automatically and then brushing his hands along his thighs, smoothing his trousers.  Taking a deep breath, Tony looked toward the house.  John was already standing by the front door.  It looked like he was expected.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” John said softly as he reached out toward Tony.  Tony nodded and took his hand briefly, pumping it once and then letting it drop with a muffled sigh of relief and stifling the urge to wipe his hands on his pants.  It was a nervous habit and one that was sure to telegraph his nervousness.  John smiled.  “Come on in.”

Tony hesitated for just a few seconds before gritting his teeth and stepping forward, wincing when John closed the door behind him.

“Can I take your coat?”

John’s voice sounded from just over his shoulder and Tony jumped, startled.  He’d been staring around at the familiar landscape of the house; the entryway and on down the short hallway into the kitchen, the family room off to the left and the dining room to the right.  When John spoke Tony had been seeing John’s children as toddlers, clumsily running from room to room and calling to “Uncle Tony”.

John either wasn’t paying attention or decided to ignore Tony’s reaction to his voice and Tony was grateful.  He was so sick of being on the defensive all the time, of everything being too bright, too loud, too intrusive.  He wanted to be the old Tony again, the carefree man who trusted and cared about people – and who was cared about in return.  He wanted family, friends – hell, he wanted to be able to hold someone without his skin crawling as he waited for the pain to begin.  God, but he missed Jason.

“Hi, Tony.”

It was Linda.  Tony looked up to see her framed in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand on the doorframe, the other nervously tapping against her thigh.  Tony smiled shyly and nodded once.  “Hi, Linda.  It’s good to see you.”

She smiled then.  Tony thought it looked a little sad and he knew then that John had warned her of his insecurities.  Hell, John had probably repeated his saga almost verbatim.  Maybe they had even had a nice little chuckle over a nice glass of wine last night.  Tony’s thoughts threatened to overwhelm him and he tensed, wanting nothing more than to walk out the door, get into his car and drive until he couldn’t go any further.

“Come on in and make yourself at home,” John said genially as he motioned Tony forward, following close behind as if knowing that Tony was on the verge of running out on him.

It was quiet – for a house that held three children and two adults.  Tony fidgeted slightly and then stilled, willing himself to relax.  It didn’t work but it did take his mind off the fact that the house was too damned quiet.  Tony startled when John appeared in front of him, looking up quickly to see his ex-partner smiling down at him, a beer in each hand.  John gently jiggled one beer as he took a sip of the other and Tony smiled as he reached out to take the beer, slightly surprised that his hand wasn’t shaking because inside he could feel his entire body quaking.

As Tony took a sip of the beer he watched John out of the corner of his eye – watching him.  “S-so where is everyone?” Tony asked, hoping John didn’t notice the slight stammer.  As long as he spoke carefully, he should be okay.  It would also help if he could just relax a little.

“We sent the kids to Janie’s.  I hope you don’t mind.”

Tony turned quickly, almost losing his grip on the bottle of beer in his hand.  His heart was racing and he could feel his face heat up.  Linda was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a small smile on her face.  He could see that she had noticed how much she had startled him and was grateful that she didn’t comment on his discomfort.  Instead, she perched easily on the arm of John’s chair, leaning back into his embrace.  Tony thought Linda looked a little uneasy and he forced himself to appear relaxed.  This day was going to be difficult enough without him making it harder on his friends.  Difficult for him was to be expected, but he needed to learn to be with people again – and learn how to act like a free man.  This just happened to be step one, or step two if he counted his time with Chloe, which he couldn’t really because she was more like a surrogate mom to him and he’d never come clean about everything that had happened to him in the intervening years.  Not like he had with John.  And today he had to live with the consequences of his verbal vomiting of the day before.

“Thanks,” he managed to murmur, forgoing a smile that he knew would fit like a rictus on his face.  Tony took another sip of his beer.  “It’s good to see you, Linda.”

Linda smiled.  “Thanks, Tony.  It’s – very good to see you too.”

Tony watched as John squeezed Linda’s hip in a gesture surely meant to impart calm to her and he stifled a smile.  At least someone was as nervous about all this as he was.  For some reason that knowledge calmed him a little.

The afternoon passed more quickly than he had expected it to but that didn’t mean he wasn’t relieved to be heading to his car.  Once inside, he grasped the steering wheel tightly and closed his eyes.  He could feel his whole body shaking, like he was coming down from an adrenalin high.  Resisting the urge to just lay his head down on the steering wheel and slowly fall apart, Tony turned the key in the ignition and drove away, back to the hotel.  He was planning to take a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and pull the covers up over his head.  If he was lucky, he’d fall asleep early.  Tomorrow he was leaving town.

~*~*~

October 14^th, 2002

The trunk of the Mustang closed with a resounding bang and Tony pulled his collar higher as he walked around the car and climbed inside.  The wind was whipping and he could see his breath in the cold air.  And he was heading to Philadelphia today.

Tony started the car with a heartfelt sigh and pulled out of the parking space.  Even though he hadn’t slept well, Tony didn’t check out of the hotel early, knowing he’d just get caught in rush-hour traffic if he tried to get on the road.  So, instead, he’d grabbed some breakfast in the hotel restaurant, packed up, and checked out, hitting the parking lot at ten after nine in the morning.

Easing out into the morning traffic, Tony headed for the highway, tuning the radio to an oldies station.  Spying the signs for the entrance to the highway just ahead, Tony smiled.  Even though he’d waited, the traffic was still heavy and he looked forward to getting on the highway, setting the cruise control and just going, letting the ‘stang eat up the miles at a pace guaranteed to ease the claustrophobic feeling Peoria had instilled in him.

Keeping a keep eye on the traffic, Tony eased up on the gas.  The eastbound entrance was a left-hand turn.  Philadelphia was next on his list.  Putting the ghosts of his past to rest was tough work and he was visiting his old haunts in chronological order.

About fifteen minutes later, Tony put on his right-hand blinker and eased onto the southbound entrance ramp for I-55.  He didn’t owe anyone anything.  Philadelphia was cold this time of year and after spending time with John, Tony didn’t think he was ready to face the betrayals in Philly.  Too much had happened there.  Being beaten nearly to death, betrayed by the very people who were supposed to be backing him up on his undercover assignment had tainted the city and he’d gotten out as quickly as he could.  He hadn’t been back since – and, even all these years later, he didn’t think he was ready.

Of course, he’d been thinking of going to visit Jim after the Magical Mystery Tour was over, but why put it off?  Philadelphia held nothing but heartache – and California had to be warmer.  He’d call Jim later, when he found a hotel for the night, and when he knew better how soon he’d be there.  For now though – he was going to Springfield where he’d pick up I-72.  In just over six hours he’d be in Kansas City, Missouri.  He’d never been there and, right now, he needed a neutral city – someplace that was new, someplace that didn’t know him.  Maybe he’d even see more than the inside of his hotel room – if he was feeling especially lucky.

Kansas City captivated him and he spent every waking minute taking in the sights.  Days passed as Tony visited fountains, art museums, a baseball museum, the jazz museum, the World War I museum, a toys and miniatures museum, the Zoo.  He walked streets and drank in the sights of Art-Deco and Mediterranean architecture.  The seemingly myriad jazz clubs captivated him and he found himself rising late as he closed a different club each night only revisiting someplace if the music was especially sublime.  There were a few that warranted a second stop and a couple that saw him returning for a third night.  But, the first time a doorman recognized him, he knew it was time to move on and he never visited that same club again.

Three weeks passed and Tony realized he was getting bored with Kansas City.  He’d seen all he wanted to see and was drinking himself into near oblivion every night.  As he looked into the mirror, he sighed at the dark circles under his eyes and the pale, drawn look to his face.  It was definitely time to move on.  He packed quickly, calling down to the laundry service to request his clothing.  They promised he’d have everything within the hour when he informed them he was checking out.  Breakfast came then his laundry and two hours later he was on the road.

Tony turned the Mustang onto I-70 heading west and set the cruise control.  It was November and he knew he’d eventually hit snowy roads, but for now the weather was clear and he was taking advantage of it while he could.

His destination was nearly nine hours away and it was already two by the time he got on the road.  As he listened to the weather reports, he realized he wouldn’t be able to make the trip in one day.  The snow finally forced him from the road in Colby, Kansas.  He stopped at the first hotel he came to, a Comfort Inn, and checked in.  What should have taken him five hours had taken nearly seven and he was exhausted.  He grabbed a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant, stopped by the front desk and asked for a seven o’clock wake-up call and then headed to his room.  He was asleep within minutes, the television droning on quietly as his exhaustion overtook him.

“Don’t think you’re going anywhere today,” the waitress said as she poured him a cup of steaming coffee.

Tony looked out the window and decided he had to agree with her assessment.  There was easily a foot of snow on the ground and he was driving a Mustang; V8 and rear-wheel drive.  “Yeah,” he said, nodding, “you may be right.”

The young woman smiled.  “Well, unless you’re driving an SUV?”

Tony shook his head.  “Nope.  Mustang.”

“That ‘65 yours then?” she asked.

Tony grinned.  She seemed to know her cars.  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Nice,” she said, drawing out the word.  “Looks cherry.  You take good care of her.”

Tony sat back in his chair, looking up at her.  “Yeah – I do.”  The waitress’ name-tag said her name was Sandy.  “So, Sandy – what do you suggest?”

Sandy smiled down at him.  “For breakfast – or for getting your car out of here?”

Tony chuckled.  “Breakfast – for now.  Why? You got an idea for the car?”

Sandy shrugged.  “You like eggs?”

Tony blinked.  For just a moment he’d been wondering what the hell eggs had to do with getting him out of Colby – and then he remembered: breakfast.  “Yeah, I like eggs.”

“I’ll put you in for the double-down special,” Sandy said, writing something on her pad of paper.  “You heading someplace warm?”

Tony shook his head.  “Nope – I was thinking Denver would be a nice place to visit.”

Sandy snorted softly.  “Not in the ‘stang,” she said, shaking her head.  “It’s November.  Colorado isn’t the place for a Mustang – not during snow season.  Hang on a sec.  Let me put your order in.  I might have a solution for you.”  And with those cryptic words, Sandy turned and walked away. 

Tony watched the sway of her hips before turning and looking out the window again.  He could turn south, head into New Mexico.  But, damn… he wanted to see Colorado.  He wanted to ski, maybe meet a snow bunny or three and have some fun.  California would be there whenever he got there – and he didn’t want be pulled into any intimate family dinners around the holidays.  Maybe in a month or so he could head to California to see Jim.  Right now, staying away seemed like a good idea.

Tony stayed one more night and, as the sun was peeking over the horizon, he checked out of the hotel, loaded his bags into the back of the rented SUV and handed the keys to his Mustang over to the shipping company.  “Take good care of her.”

The trucker nodded, smiling.  “She’ll be fine, Mr. DiNozzo.  We have your cell phone number and will call with a confirmation upon arrival.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, pocketing the business card of the trucking company and turning his back on the sight of his baby on top of the car carrier.  He had to trust the company to take care of her and they’d come highly recommended.

~*~*~

Denver was fun.  Tony forced himself to go out – to have fun.  And, consequently, he found himself drinking far too much nearly every night.  He was staying in the Roosevelt Suite at the Brown Palace Hotel yet, even amidst the nearly overwhelming luxury, he felt stifled.  The attention of the staff was obsequious and Tony found himself fighting back shudders of revulsion within days.  He supposed he’d set himself up for it though – residing in the Presidential Suite of all places.  It was to be expected that the staff would fawn but, damn, it made his skin crawl.

The morning he woke up with a strange woman in his arms, he decided it was time to check out of the hotel and move on.  He made the call to the front desk from the living room so he wouldn’t wake his guest.  That settled, he had nothing to do but wait.  When breakfast arrived he was watching the morning news.  There was enough food for two but he wasn’t about to wake the woman in his bed.  Awkward good mornings with someone whose name he couldn’t even remember wasn’t on the top of his list of things to do so, instead, he grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom.  If his guest was still there when he got out, he supposed she was the kind of girl he’d need to pay.  If she was gone, maybe she was just another lonely soul looking for someone to connect with.  Either way, he’d be gone soon.  The Guest Services Manager had assured him that someone would be up to help him pack within the hour.  Hopefully, by that time they would have made his reservations in either Vail or Aspen.  He was looking for an efficiency; a condo or hotel.  Something for a long stay, but he wasn’t going to be fussy.  Skiing season had already begun and at this point, he’d take what he could get.

He had a lot of time to think.  His days were spent skiing, soaking in the hot tub on his deck overlooking the mountain, and drinking.  Hell, for a little while he’d even tried drugs, snorting a little cocaine with a couple of fraternity brothers from Boise State who were visiting over their Winter Break.  In hindsight it was lucky they had only stuck around for a couple of weeks because he found that he liked the way the drug made him less inhibited.  While that feeling was phenomenal to a man who was perpetually uptight over seemingly everything, it wasn’t what he needed to get back on his feet. 

Before “The Boys” came to town he’d been making real progress.  Hell, he didn’t even have to lock his knees every time a slave owner snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor.  He didn’t cringe at each sharply spoken word.  And he no longer clutched at his non-existent collar and looked over his shoulder to where Jethro used to be when someone deigned to look his way or, heaven forbid, talked to him.  His hands still shook sometimes and, when he wasn’t doing coke he had to admit it was nerves and not the drugs making him tremble.  He still found it difficult to look someone in the eye and he couldn’t make himself start a conversation.  As long as someone spoke first, he was okay – for a few minutes.  Inevitably the strain became too much for him to bear and he would make his excuses and wander away. 

Drinking helped.  It loosened him up enough to be able to hold a conversation – at least long enough to talk a snow bunny into the sack.  After that, well there wasn’t much conversation that was necessary when their clothes came off and he never brought someone back to his condo, so he could sneak out in the morning without ever needing to endure the awkward morning-after conversation.  And if, occasionally, the bunny was masculine – well, that was all right too.  In fact, he found it was easier to walk away from those encounters.  Usually his one night stands of the masculine variety were in it just for that reason: a quick fuck; no strings attached.

Not that he did it often, but when you stayed in one place for a season it was easy for the few numbers to seem like more.  He’d gone from being snowed in to skiing in his shorts and a T-shirt before he realized he was still running away from his past – just doing it from the same location.  It was time to move on.

~*~*~

May 2003

He picked up his car in Albuquerque, New Mexico on a Tuesday in May.  The sky was a washed out blue and the air was dry and still.  It was a perfect day to put the top down on the Mustang so he did.  Turning the car west, he drove out of town on I-40, the wind ruffling his hair and making the temperature more bearable.  He cranked the radio up and pressed harder on the gas pedal, watching the road unfurl in front of him, the ‘stang eating up the miles.

It only took four and a half hours to get there and the sun was setting as he pulled off the highway.  He checked two hotels before he found a vacancy at the Embassy Suites, a bit disappointed that there was no on-site dining room, but too worn out to look any further.  After a quick shower and a change of clothes he headed out to Bun Huggers Restaurant.  It was close and he could pick up something to go: a win-win situation.

He only stayed in the area a couple of days, long enough to see the Grand Canyon and take a side trip to Sedona.  The Grand Canyon was a no-brainer and the Spa he visited in Sedona was world-renowned.  Too bad he wigged out halfway through the body wrap.  Once he’d calmed down, he was treated to a full body massage.  He only made it through that because he asked for a light massage and because he kept up a silent litany telling himself the hands on his body were there because he chose.  The fact that the masseuse was female helped as well.  Giving up control to a man was still difficult and there was no way he could talk himself into getting naked and allowing a complete stranger to run his hands all over his body.  The few men he’d picked up in Aspen had been his choice – and he’d definitely been in charge.

Slaves were very visible at the spa as well, fulfilling the various mundane tasks necessary to run a successful business: ushering guests to their rooms, serving drinks, bringing fresh towels, and a multitude of other routine tasks.  Tony felt their gaze everywhere and the sheer number of slaves at the spa freaked him out.  He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  Turned out his day of relaxation hadn’t been his brightest idea since he’d begun his journey.

Thus far he’d been able to avoid close personal contact with slaves, keeping out of the way of the hotel slave staff by being sure not to be in his room when the slaves came to clean up and eating out at places known to have paid wait-staff.  It wasn’t uncommon for people to go looking for paid staff these days so his inquiries weren’t out of the ordinary and the various hotels and resorts he’d stayed at had actually been able to provide pre-printed lists for his use.

It was the slaves on the street that threw him; the convicts in their chains picking up garbage alongside the roads, mowing the lawns in the parks, changing lightbulbs along the streets, watering plants – all with their chains jingling softly.  All it took was a hint of the sound and Tony started trembling.  If he could extricate himself from whatever it was he was doing at the time and get out of the vicinity before he spotted the convict he would calm rather quickly.  It was when he had to face the person, man or woman, that he had problems.  Those days he usually drank his dinner and poured himself into his bed.  It wasn’t even worth trying to find companionship for the night because he stayed keyed up and couldn’t relax enough to have a good time – or even just to forget.  Only the brain-bleaching he achieved through inebriation did that.

Leaving Arizona was easy.  He picked up the I-40 again to US 93 and he was in Nevada almost before he knew it.  A quick stop at the Hoover Dam and he was on his way to Las Vegas.  Was Sin City the best place for him?  Probably not, but it was on his way to California and he felt like seeing the sights.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that Las Vegas wasn’t a healthy place for him.  It was much too easy to lose himself in the sights and sounds, the sex and drugs, and the gambling.  Slaves were everywhere as well.  The high rollers all seemed to have a personal slave on the end of a leash and Tony cringed every time one knelt at his side, memories of his own abasement still fresh in his mind.  The convicts were the worse, though, and they were plentiful.  It seemed that every casino had a crew doing grounds work and garbage detail.  And the city itself had numerous convict crews out, their bright overalls emblazoned with the slogan, “Keeping Las Vegas Beautiful!”  Beauty really was in the eye of the beholder then, because the sight of the convicts, their heavy chains jingling, made him want to puke.

~*~*~

June 2003

Leaving was easy.  Saying goodbye to the excesses of drugs and drinking was not.  But Tony knew if he stayed he would be lost so he called Jim, wincing at the exuberant voice on the other end of the phone, and made arrangements to visit.  Damn if his friend didn’t say he’d even take some time off from work to show him around.  Just what he needed, hours of pretending everything was all right.

Taking US 95, Tony headed west, taking a circuitous route through Death Valley National Park before winding up in Bishop, California for the night.  Death Valley at the beginning of June felt like Hell in August but Tony wanted to see as much of the United States as he could while he was wandering.  It was stark, hot, and amazingly beautiful in its severity and he was glad he was just passing through as the temperature hit 115°F at midday.  And it was the beginning of the summer.  July was supposed to be even hotter.

He could have wasted some time in Bishop, hiking and camping if that had been his thing, but it wasn’t and he was expected in San Jose so he pressed on.  Crossing through the mountains was beautiful and he passed through yet another National Park, Yosemite.  Wanting to stop and stay the night was more him trying to put off his reunion with Jim than any real desire to see more of the beautiful countryside.  No, it was time for him to face yet another specter from his past and Jim knew him better than maybe anyone else.  He knew his hopes and dreams and the damage his own father had wrought on his life at a young age.  What he thought of Tony’s conviction and enslavement he didn’t know – because he’d refused all contact with anyone from his life before after moving into Jethro’s house.  Jethro had tried to convince him to reach out to his friend – to reply to one of the many letters and inquiries Jim had made, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to merge his life of freedom with his life of slavery and so he’d ignored Jim’s many attempts at contact.  And now he was sitting in his car in front of Jim’s condo wondering just how the hell he was going to face him.

Tony leaned forward, laying his head on his bent arms.  Just then his cell phone rang, startling him.  Acting without thinking, he answered the call.

“So, you coming inside or are you going to stay in the car all day?”

~*~*~

 

The call and comment had been so typical of Jim and had put him at ease almost immediately.  Funny thing was, he hadn’t realized just how tense he’d been until his tension had bled out through his hands and he’d released his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the car.  Ease didn’t mean stupidity, however, and Tony found himself holding a piece of himself in check as he greeted his former housemate at the door to his condo.

“Come on in,” Jim said as he stepped to one side.  His smile lit up his face and Tony found himself relaxing a little bit more.

The sound of the door closing at his back made Tony flinch and he had to bite his lip to keep his instinctual cry of surprise from sounding.  He felt a blush stain his cheeks and sighed, his gaze on the floorboards between his feet.

“You okay, Tony?” Jim asked softly from just behind him.

Tony had to admit that Jim knew what he was doing in not touching him right now.  Sure, he knew that Tony had been unjustly sentenced to slavery but Tony couldn’t see how hearing the story of his almost-year in slavery could possibly convey to the other man just what it had been like for him.  There was no way hearing a story could tell Jim what he’d been through, what the slavery had done to him – what his father had done.

Tony turned quickly, pasting a fake smile on his face.  “Sure, Jim.  I’m great.”

“Liar,” Jim said, his voice soft.

Tony looked away again, unable to meet Jim’s gaze.  He didn’t want to acknowledge the pity that was sure to be there.  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Tony heard Jim move and he glanced up quickly.  Jim was slowly walking away from him.

“Come on in, Tony.  Make yourself at home.”

Tony wiped his sweaty hands on the ass of his jeans and followed Jim into the living room.  Looking around, he gave a low appreciative whistle.  The condo was beautiful, open and airy even in the middle of the city.  Sunlight streamed in large windows covering one wall of the living area.  The room had light hardwood floors and beige furniture.  Bright throw pillows and an area rug broke the monotony and gave the room a certain vibrancy that would have otherwise been lacking.

“Nice place, man,” Tony said as he came to a stop at the edge of the area rug.

“Sit, Tony,” Jim said easily, motioning him toward the sofa.  “Can I get you something?  A drink maybe?”

Tony smiled and shook his head.  “No – thanks.  I’m fine.”  He sat on the sofa, feeling self-conscious and out of place. 

Jim sat across from him and Tony tensed as he waited for the inevitable questions to begin.  He really didn’t think he could answer the questions and thought, not for the first time, that he had been inordinately stupid and naïve in coming here.  At least he’d left his departure date open so he could always say he had to leave tonight.  It wasn’t like Jim could make him stay and he could always find a hotel for the night and head out of town in the morning.

Suddenly Jim stood.  “I’m going to put on the tea kettle, Tony.  Why don’t you bring your bags in?  We can get you set up in the spare room before dinner.”

Tony opened his mouth to tell Jim that he wouldn’t be staying – that he couldn’t stay really – that he needed to be someplace else.  What came out, however was, “Sure, Jim.  Sounds good.”

He berated himself silently the entire way to the car.  Slamming the trunk closed did nothing to alleviate his anger at his total inability to bow out of the awkward situation and he stomped his way back to Jim’s apartment, letting himself in quietly when he got there.  He’d missed his chance to bow out gracefully, now he’d just have to bear with the uncomfortable situation for a while longer.

“Hey,” Jim called from the kitchen.  “Why don’t you toss your bag in the bedroom?  It’s the last door on the left, down the hall.  Bathroom’s attached if you want to freshen up a bit.”

Tony nodded at Jim, who had poked his head out of the kitchen, and headed down the short hallway.  “Last door on the left,” he mumbled to himself as he pushed open the door.  His mouth fell open in surprise as the door opened.  He’d expected a barren little room, unused by a bachelor – or maybe even a home office with a battered old sofa bed.  What he hadn’t expected, however, was the high queen sized covered with a royal blue comforter and piled high with pillows.  There was a tall dresser on one wall and a small desk on the other.  A television sat on a low table against the wall opposite the foot of the bed and a nightstand bracketed each side of the bed.  Both nightstands held reading lamps and one held an alarm clock.  Tony checked his watch, verifying the time: it was set correctly.  With a sigh Tony set his bag on the bed and then moved toward the partially open door leading into the bathroom.  Even this room wasn’t quite what he’d expected.  It was small, but was tastefully decorated with pale yellow walls and hunter green towels hanging on the rack by the shower stall.  Someone had obviously replaced his frat brother with a Susie Homemaker clone.  It was downright scary.

Tony washed up quickly, splashing some cool water on his face and patting it dry.  Looking into the mirror he frowned.  He looked like hell and if he could see his own exhaustion in his eyes, chances were Jim would see it as well.  Had that small, sad smile from before been pity?  Damn.

“Quit primping and get your ass out here, DiNozzo!  Your tea is ready!”

Tony grinned.  Only Jim…

Tony took a deep breath, then pasted on his Tony DiNozzo – frat boy grin and sauntered out of the room, heading back to the living room.  He leaned against the doorway, cocking his head and tsking softly.  When Jim looked up, Tony grinned.  “So, who domesticated you, James Brown?” he asked with a wink.

Jim’s entire demeanor immediately changed and Tony’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.  He pushed away from the wall and took a step into the living room.  “I – I’m sorry, man,” he stammered quickly.

Jim shook his head and grinned, his face flushed.  “Don’t apologize, Tony.  You just took me by surprise.”  He reached up with one hand and smoothed his hair, his hand rubbing over the back of his head in what Tony remembered as a nervous gesture of Jim’s.

“So – you gonna fill me in then?” Tony asked as he took a seat on the sofa.  “Or are you just going to leave me in the dark?  Because, unless you’ve had a complete personality change since leaving Columbus, I’m going to guess that someone else decorated this place.”

Jim snorted softly.  “I’ll have you know that I decorated some of it.’

Tony made a show of looking around.  “Well, I didn’t see your bedroom so you might be right, but you definitely didn’t do all this by yourself.  And you definitely didn’t decorate the room I’m staying in.”

Jim picked up his steaming mug and sat back.  “What makes you say that?”

Tony rolled his eyes.  “It’s too feminine for one.”

Jim frowned.  “Feminine?  It’s blue!  And green!  And yellow.”  His voice trailed off and Tony grinned at his friend’s obvious confusion.

“It isn’t the colors, Jim.  It’s the whole package.  It’s just too ‘put together’ for it to have been you.”  Tony shrugged.  “It’s a girl thing – or a decorator thing.”  He paused, frowning slightly.  “You didn’t hire a decorator did you?”  He sighed loudly.  “James Brown, don’t tell me that you went all California on me and hired an honest to goodness decorator to do this place!”

Jim chuckled and seemed to relax for the first time since Tony had joined him in the living room.  “No Tony, I didn’t hire a decorator.  I – well, I do have a confession to make.”

“You’re gay,” Tony said dramatically, raising a hand to his forehead.  “I knew it.”

Jim laughed.  “Shut the hell up, DiNozzo.  I’m not gay.  I’m –“

Just then the door opened with a bang, startling Tony into almost spilling his tea.  He set the cup down quickly and turned to see a woman close the door and turn to face them.  Her face lit up with a smile when she saw them and Tony found himself smiling back before he even realized it.  He vaguely noted that Jim had gotten to his feet and it was only when Jim passed him that he frowned in confusion.  His confusion didn’t lessen any when Jim put his arm around the woman and kissed her.  Tony heard Jim say something to her, his voice soft enough that he couldn’t hear the words but he did see her gaze dart to where he was sitting before she looked up at Jim again.

Tony got to his feet, shifting restlessly from nervousness before forcing himself to stand still.  He wiped his hands on his blue jeans and pasted a smile on his face as Jim and the woman turned to face him.  “Married?” he asked, finishing Jim’s sentence for him.

Jim frowned for a moment before smiling slightly as he obviously got the reference to his interrupted sentence.  Chuckling softly, he shook his head.  “No – we’re not married.  We’re –“

Tony finally realized what his eyes had been seeing.  “Pregnant.”

Jim blushed and fidgeted while the woman grinned.  “Well, there is that,” Jim said a bit sheepishly.

“But not married,” Tony said.

The woman laughed then and Tony found himself smiling at the sound.  She had one of those infectious laughs that just made you want to grin like a loon or break out into laughter yourself.  She was petite, thin except for the obvious bulge of her pregnant belly, with long brown hair and dark eyes.  Ducking out from under Jim’s arm, she stepped forward, her hand out.  “Hi,” she said.  “You must be Tony.  I’m Megan.”

Tony hesitated just a moment before taking her hand.  “Nice to meet you, Megan,” he said slowly.  Suddenly he remembered.  “You’re the Megan Jim told me about – what, two years ago?”

Megan turned to look at Jim and Tony saw that his friend was rubbing the back of his head again.  “Three,” Jim said quickly.

Megan laughed again.  “Three,” she said with a nod as she turned back to Tony.  “I thought he’d been holding out on you or something.”

Tony smiled.  “So you’re – what?” he finally asked.

Megan smiled and cupped her belly with her arms.  “Pregnant.”

Tony looked at Jim. 

Jim stepped forward.  “Why don’t we all sit down?”  Once they were all seated, Megan perched on the arm of Jim’s chair, Jim told Tony that he and Megan were living together and had been for most of the three years they’d been together.

Tony wondered why he hadn’t known that his friend was living with his girlfriend – but then he wasn’t one to open up and share so maybe that had rubbed off on the friendship.  Jim obviously hadn’t felt comfortable enough with him to tell him about Megan moving in – or maybe he just didn’t feel that Tony was a good enough friend to mention the big things to.  Either way, it left Tony with an empty feeling inside.

Megan was seven months pregnant.  They were having a son and seemed inordinately happy about it.  Tony found it odd that there were no plans of marriage in their future but it wasn’t his place to question why so he left it alone.  But what really threw him was the intimacy.  Megan sat on the arm of Jim’s chair, leaning into him slightly.  Jim’s arm was wrapped loosely around Megan’s back, his hand resting on her thigh, his fingers gently rubbing over the silky material of her skirt.  He supposed intimacy was what got them to where they were – imminent parents – but it wasn’t something he was used to.  His parents hadn’t touched in his presence that he could ever remember.  Sure Tom and Jason touched damned near all the time as did Alton and Bryce – but men and women, husbands and wives, lovers – he wasn’t used to the outward show of affection.  And he realized his skin ached for it. 

Tony began to think of ways to make his exit.  He’d planned on staying with Jim for a while.  Hell, his plans were open-ended and he figured he’d stick around until he wasn’t wanted anymore which, with his track record would be about a couple of weeks.  But he couldn’t stay here – not with the evidence of his own inadequacy staring him in the face with every glance, touch and whispered word.  No, he’d head out – find a place to crash for the night and then head out of town in the morning.

Just then Megan stood, Jim’s hand trailing after her until she squeezed it and gently returned it to the arm of his chair.  “Going to take a shower before dinner,” she announced as she bent forward, one hand bracing against the back of Jim’s chair, to lay a gentle kiss on Jim’s lips.  “Work really wore me out today.”

“Do you still want to go out – or would you rather order in?” Jim asked quickly. 

Megan smiled.  “Whatever you two decide.  I’m fine with either – really.”  And then she walked away, her gait belying her advanced state of pregnancy even though she was obviously being careful not to give in to the waddle entirely.

Tony watched her leave before turning back to Jim, who was watching Megan as well.  Only after Tony heard the door to Jim’s (and Megan’s) bedroom close did Jim turn to find Tony staring at him.

“What?” Jim asked easily.

Tony shrugged, his unease at the whole situation roiling around in his mind.  “Jim, I think maybe I should just – leave.”

Jim sat forward.  “What?  Are you crazy?  You just got here!”

Tony bit his lip, Jim’s obvious unease making him uncomfortable.

“Tony,” Jim said quietly, “I’m sorry.  Look – I want you to stay.  Megan wants you to stay.  Hell, I took the week off from work so I’d be able to spend some time with you and show you the sights.  Megan is working so she ‘doesn’t get in the way’, in her own words.  Please – don’t go.”

Tony sighed softly and closed his eyes for a moment, wishing fervently he was strong enough to just retrieve his bag from the bedroom and walk out the door.  But he wasn’t the self-confident man he’d once been and so he’d stay – but only for the week, if he could make it that long.

“So you’ll stay?” Jim asked softly.

Tony opened his eyes to see his friend staring at him.  He took a beep breath and then nodded.  “Yeah, I’ll stay,” he said.  ‘For now,’ he added silently.

Jim smiled, obviously happy with Tony’s decision to stay.  Inside, Tony cringed, wishing again that he had the courage to walk out.

~*~*~

Tony was starting to nod off, slouching on the sofa, his head resting against the cushion.  Megan had gone to bed a couple of hours earlier, leaving him and Jim watching TV and drinking beer.  Now it was late, the movie had ended and Jim called Tony on his exhaustion.  Tony blinked awake, peering blearily around the living room before looking at Jim.  For just a moment, he’d forgotten exactly where he was and he’d almost panicked.  Thankfully the only sign was his racing heartbeat, not something Jim would notice.  Tony pasted a lazy smile on his face and yawned expansively.  “Sorry, Jim,” he said easily, stretching lazily.  “I guess I was more tired than I realized.”

Jim nodded.  “That’s okay, Tony,” he said as he got to his feet and started to pick up the beer bottles that littered the table. 

Tony bit his lip, knowing that the majority of the bottles were his and not Jim’s – and hoping his friend wouldn’t call him on it.  He really didn’t want to explain his recent addictions to Jim.  Hell, he didn’t want to explain them to anyone. 

Luckily, Jim seemed to be as tired as he was and they made their goodnights and headed to their respective rooms, Jim telling Tony not to worry about getting up at any specific time as they didn’t have concrete plans for the day.  Tony merely nodded and closed his bedroom door quietly, hyper-aware of the sleeping woman just across the hallway.  For just a moment, he leaned back against the door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  Pushing himself off the door, Tony made his way to the bathroom.  Looking up into the mirror as he bent forward to cup water into his hands, Tony hesitated.  Fear.  His eyes were filled with fear and, god, wasn’t he sick of that look?  Tony looked down into the water that was pooling into his hands.  His hands were shaking, splashing the water into the sink.

Tony finished washing up quickly, avoiding looking into the mirror as much as possible and leaving the room quickly.  He’d changed into his sleep pants and slipped between the crisp, cool sheets with a tired sigh.  His mind was awhirl and he was positive he’d lay awake for hours, staring up at the ceiling.  Within minutes, his eyelids closed and he sighed once before slipping into slumber.

~*~*~

A sharp knocking woke him and Tony rolled over with a groan. 

 

“Tony?”

Jim’s voice sounded worried and Tony licked his dry lips before clearing his throat.  “What?” he croaked.

“I know I told you not to worry about getting up early but it’s almost noon.  It’s also clear and sunny so get your lazy ass out of bed so we can get out and do something today.”

Tony wiped his hands over his face and closed his eyes again, drifting for just a moment – until the next knock.

“Tony!  Up!  I have coffee.”

Tony sighed and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.  “I’m up!” he called out as he got to his feet.  “Give me ten minutes.”

“Take fifteen – I’m feeling generous.”

Tony snorted softly at the easy banter and headed into the bathroom.  He needed a shower – and to brush his teeth.  His mouth felt dry as the desert and tasted like the bottom of a litter box.  God, he hated the “morning after the night before” breath that came from drinking too much.

The shower went a long way toward making Tony feel more human.  The brunch that was awaiting him in the kitchen, along with the coffee, helped take him the rest of the way.  Tony steeled himself to get through the day with Jim but, once they got started, Tony found himself having a good time and it was with a sigh of satisfaction that he finally sat down on the sofa a few hours later.  He felt boneless and pleasantly exhausted.  He and Jim had hiked the city, Jim pointing out the sights, a few of which they actually stopped at.  Tony quickly realized that Jim was in better shape than he currently was and he had to admit that he hadn’t been taking good care of himself in the past few months.  The drinking and drugs had finally caught up with him and he hated himself for the stupidity of his actions.  Not for the first time, he wondered if he really was capable of living on his own or if he should be collared for his own good.

As the thought of his own slavery crossed his mind, Tony shuddered.  Remembering the degradation he’d felt as a slave he wondered again at the seeming contentment of some slaves.  Even today he’d found himself watching collared slaves as they went about their daily business, leashed and following at their Master’s heels most of the time.  Now that he’d been in that same situation, he could pick out the slaves who were content with their lot – and the ones whose slavery grated on them with every breath they took. 

There were two parks within a couple of city blocks from Jim’s condominium in either direction and they wound up in one of them, St. James if he was remembering correctly, the next afternoon.  There was a group of college-aged men and women playing a game of ultimate Frisbee and before Tony knew it, he and Jim had been recruited to play.  By the time the group broke up, the kids heading off in one direction and Jim and Tony in another, Tony was tired and sore – but, strangely, he also felt euphoric.  Letting go and just playing, not having to think at all, did wonders for him.  By the time the two men walked into Jim’s building, Tony was limping slightly. 

Jim bumped shoulders with him.  “You’re letting yourself get soft there, DiNozzo,” he chided. 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Yeah – look who’s getting old, Brown.”  Tony let his gaze roam up and down Jim’s dusty frame deliberately.  “Looks like you’re a little worse for wear.”

Jim pulled himself to his full height and Tony hid a smile at the grimace of pain that crossed Jim’s face.  “Not me, old man.  I’m fine.”

“Yeah – tell that to your old lady, Jim.  I’m sure she’s gonna believe you when you can barely walk straight.  Pull a groin muscle or something?”

Jim sighed and shrugged.  “Maybe,” he conceded, “but then you’re not looking too chipper yourself.”

Tony shrugged and grinned.  “Yeah – but I don’t have anyone to impress like you do.”  He headed toward the elevators.  “Want to bet on how long she lets it go before she calls you on it?”

“Four and a half minutes,” Jim said with no hesitation.

Tony chuckled.  “I give her two.”

“Twenty bucks?”

Tony shook his head.  “Lunch – tomorrow – at the beach.”

“Deal,” Jim said with a nod.

San Jose was nice enough, but Tony wanted to see the ocean.  Besides, a little relaxing in the sun would probably be all he was up for tomorrow – given how sore his muscles were already.  He doubted he’d even be able to get out of bed in the morning without great effort on his part.

Megan was home when they got there and Tony smiled.  Jim took a deep breath and pushed opened the door, walking inside deliberately.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Tony grinned even as Jim groaned softly and smacked him on the shoulder.  “Quit gloating, DiNozzo,” Jim groused as he shouldered Tony out of the way and closed the door.

~*~*~

They went to the beach in Santa Cruz and Tony fell asleep in the sun.  When he finally woke a couple of hours later he found that Jim had rented an umbrella and was napping as well.  Tony grinned and opened the cooler, pulling a beer out of the melting ice.  Lifting the bottle, he let the icy water drip onto Jim’s back, chuckling at the expletives that emerged as his friend woke.  He opened the beer and handed it to Jim, opening the cooler and getting another out for himself.  Clinking their bottles together, the two men took long drinks of the cold brew.

“Thanks for this, Jim,” Tony said after a minute.

Jim rolled his head to the side.  “For what, Tony?”

Tony shrugged.  “For this,” he said after a moment.  “For taking the week off to spend with me.  I really appreciate it, man.”

Jim grinned and lifted his beer bottle toward Tony in a salute.  “Not a bad week after all, huh?” he asked, taking a sip. 

Tony stared, his bottle of beer halfway to his mouth.

Jim chuckled.  “I know you were desperately trying to think of ways to leave that first night, Tony.  I could see the desire to walk out written all over your face.”  He sighed softly.  “I know Megan – and her condition – really freaked you out.”

Tony stammered as he tried to formulate an apology.

“It’s okay, Tony.  I understand – and I’m sorry for not telling you about Megan earlier.”

Tony shrugged.  “Well, I guess it’s partially my fault,” he said.

“You mean by not keeping in touch after your bogus conviction?” Jim asked easily.

Tony blushed.  “Yeah – that.”

Jim shrugged again.  “I understand, Tony.”

Tony snorted softly.  “No, you don’t,” he said softly.

Jim nodded and lifted his bottle of beer toward Tony again.  “I guess you’re right.”

~*~*~

San Francisco was next.  Tony and Jim rode the cable cars, stopping at both the Castro and Upper Market districts as well as going to China Town and then stopping at 20^th and Douglass Streets, the exact center of the city.  Jim took a picture of Tony hanging onto the street sign, a big grin on his face.  Finally, they wound up at Fisherman’s Wharf for a very late lunch before heading home again.

“Hey, man, thanks for doing all the touristy things with me today,” Tony said as he collapsed into a chair in the living room.

Jim groaned as he sank down into a chair opposite Tony.  “No problem.  I had a really good time today.  It’s been a long time since I’ve done the touristy things.”

Tony sighed softly and closed his eyes.  He was pleasantly exhausted.  The day had flown by, and Tony felt exhilarated by the sheer volume of sights they had packed into their time in the city.  He’d seen things with Jim that he probably wouldn’t have thought of on his own – one reason why he liked going to new places with someone familiar with the area.  Natives usually knew of places that the tour books wouldn’t list.  To think that he’d actually stood on the spot where Harvey Milk had stood and walked the same streets, following Harvey’s trail from Castro to City Hall. 

When Tony opened his eyes again, Jim was snoring lightly.  Tony smiled and pushed himself to his feet, stifling a groan as stiff muscles protested the movement.  Turning away, he walked to ‘his’ bedroom.  He wanted a shower before dinner and, if he wasn’t mistaken, Megan would be home any time now.  Her arrivals had been pretty consistent all week and dinner had followed promptly at seven.

By the time Tony stepped out of the shower, he was feeling a little more human, his aches washed down the drain with the grime of the day.  When he finally emerged from his room, he heard someone moving around in the kitchen.  Jim was still sleeping in the living room and, when Tony poked his head into the kitchen, Megan looked up and smiled. 

“Looks like you wore him out today, Tony.  What did you guys get up to?”

Tony grinned and sat at the breakfast bar.  “Thanks,” he said when Megan set a glass of iced tea in front of him.  “We did everything imaginable in San Francisco today.  I think I wore Jim out.”

Megan grinned as she slipped onto the stool beside Tony’s.  “Good,” she said easily.  “Thanks for coming, Tony.  Jim has really needed a vacation and this time spent with you has been good for him.”

Tony blushed.  “I’m glad I came too,” he said.  Surprisingly, he meant every word.  He’d had a wonderful week and reconnecting with his friend had been very therapeutic for him.  During the course of the week, he’d done very ‘normal’ things – things he hadn’t done in a long while, and it had felt amazing.  He would miss Jim.  Too bad he couldn’t thank him for making him feel like a normal free man again.  Jim just wouldn’t understand the sentiment.

~*~*~

“Come on, Tony – it’s Sunday.  I don’t have to go back to work until tomorrow and, even then, you don’t need to go.”

Tony shook his head and smiled.  Jim was whining and it seemed almost like old times.  God, he’d missed this: the interaction with a good friend, the easy camaraderie, the absolute freedom.  Sure, he’d been free for ten months – almost a year – but up until now he’d been coasting along, trying to find his way.  Here, with Jim, he’d found that he was no longer searching.  Here he was accepted for whom he was with no strings attached.  He would definitely miss it, but it was time to move on.  Becoming complacent or even dependent wasn’t something he wanted.  There was still too much of him to rediscover.

“Yeah, man, it’s Sunday and I’ve been hogging your time for over a week now.  You need some time with Megan before you head back to work tomorrow.”  When Jim opened his mouth to retort, Tony held up his hand.  “Jim, I need to go – before I decide that this place is too good to leave and I wind up sponging off you two.  You don’t need that – and neither do I.”  Tony smiled sadly.  “I have to move on.  I have a lot more thinking to do, not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve given me this past week.  This time has meant more to me than you could possibly ever know.”

Jim stared at him for a few long minutes and Tony had to fight the urge to fidget under his scrutiny.  Finally, after a minute, Jim nodded.  “Yeah, Tony.  Me too.  Thanks for staying – and – you know you’re welcome here any time, right?”

Tony smiled.  “Yeah, man.  Thanks.”  After that it was easy to leave.  In fact, he’d already packed his bag and stowed it just inside the door to his bedroom in preparation.  All that was left after talking to Jim was saying goodbye and, even that, wasn’t too difficult.  Truth be told, he’d been getting a little claustrophobic living with two people in the apartment and he heaved a sigh of relief as he settled into the driver’s seat of his Mustang.  Slipping on his sunglasses and baseball cap, he put the top down on the convertible and then pulled out into traffic.

~*~*~

 

Seattle was beautiful as were Vancouver and Portland but Tony didn’t stay in one place too long.  He took in the sights and then moved on before he could get caught up in the club scene and get into more trouble than he was currently equipped to handle.  Slaves walking to heel behind their owners still wigged him out a little and he found he could handle it better if he was sober, alcohol and drugs taking the edge off his memories but leaving him open to more psychological stress than he could easily handle. 

Canada was best of all since the Canadians hadn’t jumped on the “slavery is cheaper than prison” bandwagon and the only slaves you saw on the streets were those the American tourists brought with them – and even that was actively discouraged.  If it had been warmer he would have stayed, but Tony had decided that he liked warm temperatures and he wanted to move further south again before the winter weather moved in.  He planned his route accordingly, crossing back into California in late September.

Tony had checked into a hotel in San Francisco, deciding to stay a few days in the city and check out the nightlife.  He could do it if he was careful.  There wasn’t a law that said he had to get caught up in the drugs again – right?  He remembered some of the sights he’d seen with Jim and sought out some of the nightclubs they had passed, lucking out on his second try. 

Walking into the club he immediately felt at home, the music a soft bluesy number and the lighting very easy on the eyes.  He sidled up to the bar and ordered a drink, tossing it back in one swallow.  Ordering another shot and a beer, Tony turned to look around the large open room.  It took him a couple of minutes before it dawned on him that there were only men present – and some were definitely into the leather scene.  The longer he looked the more he realized that more than just a few were into that scene, but what the hell – he was pretty sure it was still a free country and it wasn’t like he was interested in wearing anyone’s chains.

No strings meant no strings as far as he was concerned but who would have thought that he would get picked up by someone who looked like he was ex-military, had salt and pepper hair and carried handcuffs on his belt?  Wait a minute – handcuffs?  He so didn’t need or want to play in that scene.

So how the hell did he wind up in the guy’s bed, trying to sneak out of an unfamiliar apartment at oh-dark-thirty?

“Tony?”

The voice was sleepy, a little hoarse, and sent shockwaves straight to his oh-so-interested cock.  He bit back a groan.

“Yeah?” he said softly.

“You don’t have to leave.”

Tony fidgeted, wanting nothing more than to run away and not look back.  Things had gotten too weird too quickly and even if Troy could forget that he’d groaned out another man’s name as he came, Tony wasn’t likely to forget it any time soon.

“I’m sorry,” he managed after clearing his throat softly.

Troy held out his hand and Tony took it with a sigh, letting the older man draw him down on the bed beside him.  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Tony.”

Tony frowned, curling up into the other man’s arms and letting himself relax slightly. 

“Can I ask you a question – without having you totally freak out on me?” Troy asked after a minute.

Tony stiffened and tried to pull away, but Troy held on.

“Relax, Tony.  I’ll ask – okay?  But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Tony nodded, not relaxing but not trying to pull out of Troy’s embrace any more.

“Who’s Jethro?”

Aw fuck.  It hadn’t just been a bad dream then.  And what the hell had he been doing – shouting out ‘Jethro’ as he climaxed?  He hadn’t even let himself think about his former owner in a long time but, apparently, his subconscious had other ideas and thoughts of Jethro weren’t as deeply buried as he’d hoped.  He twisted in Troy’s arms, wincing as Troy simply tightened his grip, shushing Tony like a frightened animal, which, he supposed he was in a weird, twisted way.

“Tony?  Calm down.”  Troy’s voice was calm, quiet, and yet still held that hint of absolute authority that had drawn Tony to the man the night before.

Tony stilled, his gasping breaths the only sign that they weren’t simply basking in the afterglow. How did he tell this wonderful man that Jethro was his former owner – that he’d been a slave, a convict, up until recently?  He couldn’t do it, couldn’t bear the thought of the look of disgust Troy would certainly turn his way.

“I-I’m g-good,” Tony lied, silently cursing at the untimely return of his stutter.

“Liar,” Troy said softly, kissing the back of Tony’s head.  He sighed.  “But if you don’t want to tell me there isn’t really any way for me to make you.”

Troy’s grip loosened with his words and Tony suddenly found he could get up and run out – if he wanted.  So why didn’t he want to?  He closed his eyes, counting to five, and then rolled onto his side, looking at the older man who was silently watching him.  There wasn’t a hint of disgust in Troy’s eyes and Tony really wanted to keep it that way.  No strings, right?  So lying to a near-complete stranger wasn’t something he should be worrying about, but damn it, something drew him to this man and he didn’t want to just leave things as they were.  Yeah, it could be just the physical resemblance but he didn’t think he’d based this encounter solely on the fact that Troy looked a little like the man who had owned him last year.

“J-Jethro really isn’t important right now,” Tony said softly, his gaze searching Troy’s face for some hint of what the man was thinking.

Troy nodded once but Tony could see that he wanted to ask again just who Jethro was and Tony bit back a sigh.  He really didn’t want to get into this now.  Maybe a distraction?

Letting a small smile turn up the corners of his mouth, Tony pressed forward.  He huffed out a small breath as his lips ghosted over Troy’s.  When Troy didn’t make a move to kiss him back, Tony pulled away just enough to be able to see the other man.  Troy was looking at him, his face eerily serene.

“N-not going to l-let me distract you, huh?” Tony said as he dropped his chin, looking away from Troy.

“You don’t need to distract me, Tony,” Troy said, lifting Tony’s chin with a gentle finger.  “I said I’m okay with no explanation and I mean it.”

Tony nodded.  “Th-thanks,” he said leaning in for another kiss.

“Now – how about coming back to bed?  I really hate to wake up alone.”

Tony frowned slightly, hesitating for just a moment before giving in.  Nodding once, he slipped out of his trousers and shirt, climbing back into the bed clad in just his underwear.  Troy opened his arms and Tony snuggled close, sighing softly as he relaxed into the man’s strong embrace.

~*~*~

 

Friday night bled into Saturday and Saturday night and then, suddenly it was Monday morning and a strong hand was gently shaking Tony awake.  Forcing his eyes open, Tony knuckled the sleep out of them and peered upward.  “M-Master…” he gasped as he rolled out of the bed, his knees hitting the hard wood of the floor painfully.

The man stooped, alarm coloring his face.  “Tony?” he said with barely concealed anger.  “Who did this to you?”

Tony blinked again, his exhaustion bleeding away.  “T-Troy?” he asked, confused at his obviously subservient position on the floor beside the bed.  And then he saw it.  Troy was in a suit, his hair combed, his blue eyes staring.  “Fuck,” Tony groaned softly, letting Troy pull him to his feet.

Troy’s arms wrapped around his shivering body and Tony barely managed not to break down and sob out his frustration at the ingrained responses that could be startled out of him – and at the most inopportune moments.

Tony wriggled out of Troy’s grasp and wrapped his arms around himself.  “S-sorry,” he mumbled.

“Tony?” Troy said softly.  “Are you going to be—“

“Okay?” Tony said with a soft laugh.  “Yeah – what’s a little PTSD between friends, huh?”  He sighed and ran a shaking hand through his hair.  “L-look – I’m sorry – about all of this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Tony,” Troy said, stepping closer again.

Tony backed up a step.  “You need to get to work, I presume?”

Troy nodded.

“Th-then I’ll just get dressed,” Tony said easily, picking up his clothes and heading for the bathroom.  No matter that he’d been naked in this guy’s bed for most of two days and three nights.  There was no way he was getting naked in front of him after falling apart.  He felt too vulnerable all of a sudden.

Troy was waiting for him when he came out of the bathroom, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. 

“Got a to-go mug?” Tony asked as he took the cup from the other man.

Troy grinned and headed to the kitchen.  “You going to be around much longer, Tony?” he asked as Tony followed him.

Tony leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and contemplated the man standing with his back to him.  He’d really like to stay, but if he did, he knew he’d be staying for all the wrong reasons.  “I – I don’t think so, Troy,” he said after a moment.  “I-I’m s—“.

“Shh,” Troy said, placing a finger over Tony’s lips.  “It’s okay, Tony.”  Troy leaned forward and kissed Tony gently.  “I’ve had a great weekend, but I knew what I was getting into – what we were getting into.  Didn’t think this was a forever thing.”  Troy sighed and pulled Tony close.  “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you though.”

Tony blinked back tears and hugged Troy close.  “I’m going to miss you too.  Thank you – for this weekend.”

“My pleasure, Tony,” Troy said with a sad smile.  “I’m definitely going to miss you.”  He sighed.  “So, I guess I’m never going to see this again, huh?”

Tony looked at the Hooters travel mug and laughed.  “Maybe – maybe not,” he said seriously.  “Does it have – sentimental value?” he asked with a smirk.

Tory chuckled.  “Something like that.  Seriously, Tony – I don’t care if I ever see it again, but I wouldn’t mind hearing from you.”

Tony blushed.  “Thanks.  Maybe you will – hear from me.”

“I’d like that.”  Troy sighed.  “And now it really is time to leave.  I’m running late as it is.”

Tony kissed Troy again and then let Troy usher him out of the apartment.  Tony watched as Troy drove away before climbing into his Mustang and heading back to his hotel to pack.  It really was time to get out of town.

~*~*~

April 15^th, 2004

Tax day.  Tony sighed as he squinted up into the sun.  He’d been here for a little over six months and still he wasn’t sure just what he was looking for as he stared out over the sand dunes to the ocean beyond.  He had settled in Imperial Beach, California – as far to the south of the town as he could get and still be in the United States.  He was renting a little beach bungalow that probably cost the owners somewhere in the eight figure price range.  It was small and cozy, but it had an unimpeded view of the ocean and there was no one else around.  It was perfect for someone who just wanted to disappear for a while. 

He could honestly say that only two people in the world knew where he was right now: his landlord, who couldn’t care less as long as the rent was paid (and it was) and Joey, the bartender from the Sandpiper, a bar just up the beach and the guy he was more than occasionally fucking.  Joey was pretty: longish black hair, blue eyes, and a million-dollar smile.  All that paled in comparison to the fact that Joey didn’t care about his past; who he was, where he’d been.  All he wanted was a little fun – and Tony could supply that in spades.

The sex was good, if sporadic, due to Joey’s intention to make a million dollars before he was twenty-five.   He was working long hours most nights of the week and stumbled into Tony’s bungalow only to fall asleep about twice or three times a week.  Tony would wake wrapped in his long tanned limbs and they would make love slowly in the early morning light before falling asleep again.  Afternoons were spent romping in the surf, taking long walks and having more sex.  Being in a loose relationship with a twenty-one year old man definitely had its perks.

Their time together was brief, Joey catching a couple of hours of sleep and then flitting off to another one of his jobs.  Today it was surfing lessons and Tony had talked him into bringing his client to the park.  He didn’t want anyone too close to his bungalow, but he could see them in the water from his porch – and could make out details with the binoculars Joey had gifted him with a few weeks earlier.  When Tony had asked him what the gift was for, Joey had merely shrugged and said, “I figure you have to have a birthday at some point and, since you won’t tell me when, I picked today.  Happy Birthday, Tony.”  Tony had laughed and accepted the gift and now he was watching as Joey took the young woman out on his board, teaching her to paddle, how to catch the crest of a wave and, finally to stand – at least for a very brief moment before tipping forward into the waves.  Every so often Joey would look his way and, even though Tony knew his young lover couldn’t see him, it made him smile anyway.

Tony loved to watch Joey surf and had taken a few lessons himself.  The young man was very good, his balance impeccable and damn, he looked good in a wet suit – even better out of it; long lean limbs, flat stomach, strong hands.  With a sigh, Tony closed his eyes.  He could still feel those hands on his skin, gripping his hips tightly as he eased his cock into Joey’s body, Joey’s heels digging into Tony’s calves as the younger man arched into Tony’s touch.

~*~*~

Tony startled awake with a hoarse shout when strong hands closed around his wrists, hips arching upward to dislodge the weight that had settled on top of him.

“Shh, it’s just me.”  Joey leaned forward and Tony sighed softly, licking his dry lips as he tried to calm his racing heart.

The kiss was gentle and Tony melted back against the chaise.

“Do you trust me?” Joey asked, his lips ghosting over Tony’s own.

Tony tensed in surprise at the question before relaxing again.  “I – I trust you,” he said after a moment.  “Shouldn’t I?”  Tony glanced away from Joey’s eyes just long enough to check out the immediate area.  He couldn’t believe he’d dropped his guard like this outside – where anyone could get to him.

Joey leaned forward again and kissed Tony.  “Oh yeah – you should trust me implicitly.  And I promise I’ll make it very good for you.”

Tony blinked and looked at Joey again.  “What?” he asked dumbly.

“I need you to trust me,” Joey said.  “I – Iboughtusapresent,” he mumbled.

“Us,” Tony said slowly, trying to make sense of what Joey had just mumbled against his skin.  “You bought us a present?”

Joey nodded, his forehead against Tony’s chest, his hair tickling against Tony’s bare skin.  “Please, Tony?”

Tony swallowed heavily, not liking where this was heading but also not wanting to hurt Joey.  They’d been good together – so far.  What it would hurt to put his trust in him?  Nodding, Tony tried to smile.  He feared he had failed but Joey leaned forward and kissed him again.

“Thank you, Tony.”

“So – what do you want me to do?”

“Close your eyes.”

Tony licked his lips nervously, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.  Joey’s hands left his wrists very briefly and then when he was about to move his hands, he felt Joey’s hands on his wrists again.  And he felt something wrap around one wrist, tightening snugly.  He gasped and opened his eyes. 

Joey leaned forward.  “Relax.  I really wish I knew who had hurt you, Tony – because I would kill them – slowly.  Please, trust me.  I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Tony craned his neck, looking up over his head to where his right wrist was tethered to the wooden slats of the chaise, the black leather encircling his wrist looking sexy as all hell – and terrifying all at once.  He watched, his throat dry, as Joey fastened the other cuff to his left wrist.  It was all he could do to lie still, to not fight the cuffs.  The chaise was made of redwood.  It was sturdy, but Tony thought he could probably tear his way free if he needed to.  It was that thought that kept him from losing control entirely.

Joey’s hand cupped his face and Tony startled, turning back to where his young lover straddled his body.  “Are you okay?” he asked softly as he stared down at Tony and Tony thought that he probably looked frightened as hell, no matter how hard he was trying to appear calm.

Tony nodded.  “I – I’m good,” he said.

Joey smiled and shook his head.  “You are a horrible liar, Tony – but thank you for doing this.  I’m going to rock your world.”  He scooted backward and Tony lifted his head to watch as Joey’s hands went to the waistband of his swim trunks.  “Lift your hips,” Joey coached, tugging Tony’s trunks off quickly when Tony complied and tossing them over his shoulder.  “Mmm, you’ve been tanning in the nude, haven’t you?”

Tony smiled.  “Yeah – it’s s-secluded – and I l-like the feel of the sun on my s-skin.”  Joey kissed him again and then got up off of him.  “Wh-where are you going?” Tony asked; sudden fear making his gut clench.

“I’m going to put the head of your chaise down a little,” Joey said from over his head just before Tony felt the head of the chaise lift slightly and then dip down. 

Tony’s breath caught in his throat as the chair was lowered and then Joey popped back into his line of sight, a huge grin on his face, and Tony couldn’t help but relax just a little.  Joey didn’t know about his past, had no frame of reference for the sheer terror that coursed through Tony as that first cuff was wrapped around his wrist.  Maybe now was the time to explore his limits, now when it was safe.  Joey wouldn’t hurt him.  Joey didn’t have any reason to hurt him.  Tony sighed softly and looked up at his lover.

“Now that you’ve got me all trussed up, what’re you going to do with me?”  He wiggled his hips a little and grinned up at Joey.

“Well, first off – I don’t have you all trussed up – not quite.  But I will.”  He held up another pair of cuffs, the leather dangling from his fingers, and grinned.

Tony gulped and took a deep breath.  He could handle his hands being restrained, barely.  But his legs too?  He wasn’t so sure about that but deft fingers were already separating his legs and fastening them into leather cuffs which were then tied off through the slats of the chair and it was all he could do to keep breathing, panic eating at the edges of his thoughts.

“Breathe, Tony.” 

Joey’s breath was warm in his ear and Tony stilled.  A blush crept up his chest and face when he realized he’d been tugging against his restraints. 

“You okay now?”  Joey was staring at him and Tony blinked slowly before nodding.  “You sure, Tony?  I can take those off.”

“I –“ Tony cleared his throat.  “I’m fine.”  He just hoped Joey didn’t notice the fine tremor in his voice.

Joey nodded, his countenance telling Tony louder than words that he saw through Tony’s lies but wasn’t going to call him on it.  It seemed that, as long as Tony played along, so would he and Tony was okay with that.  Tony lifted his head and watched as Joey pulled his shirt over his head, shaking out his hair as he tossed his shirt to the ground where he’d thrown Tony’s trunks.  He shimmied out of his shorts next, golden brown skin coming into view inch by tantalizing inch and Tony wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that Joey had gone commando under those shorts.  His young lover didn’t seem to like undergarments as he rarely wore them.  Joey would say never, but Tony vividly remembered an electric blue thong and a long night of making love.

“You look distracted, Tony,” Joey said as he straddled Tony’s bound body.

“Can’t help it, what with the way you shimmy out of your clothes,” Tony teased.

Joey grinned and then leaned forward, capturing Tony’s lips in a kiss.  Tony groaned into Joey’s mouth, his hands twisting in the cuffs until he remembered he couldn’t reach up and pull Joey’s hard body to his.

“Joey – oh god,” Tony gasped as Joey began to nibble and lick his way down Tony’s throat, pausing to suck lightly on his bobbing Adam’s Apple before moving lower, shifting on Tony’s lap, his bare bottom ghosting over Tony’s erection before he moved to settle between Tony’s spread thighs.  “You – oh fuck,” Tony groaned as Joey’s mouth engulfed his cock.

Joey pulled off Tony’s cock with a loud slurp.  “You like that, do you?” he asked with a lascivious grin.

“What’s not to like?” Tony asked with a smile and another little wiggle of his hips.

And then he was coming, back bowing off the chaise, Joey’s hand tight around his cock, a deep growling noise humming in his ears.  Pounding – and Joey looked up with a grin on his face.

“Someone’s at the door,” he said as he pushed up off the chaise, quickly pulling on his pants.

It was only then that Tony realized that the growling noise had been a vehicle.  A befuddled moment later he realized it had been the truck from the little market that delivered his groceries.  Looking up, Tony realized that Joey was gone, the back slider into the house open a couple of inches.

Voices talking, the sound seeping out from the house, the cadence rising and falling in easy camaraderie as Joey flirted just a little with Javier, the boy from the market.  Tony tensed as the voices moved around, sometimes seeming to come closer to the door, sometimes farther away.  He was splayed out, naked, tied to a deck chair.  He didn’t want to be found like this – not by that boy.  Joey wouldn’t do that to him – he just wouldn’t.

After a minute, Tony realized he was chanting that sentiment under his breath, his muscles tensed and straining against the cuffs.  He startled when the door slid open, revealing Joey standing in the doorway.  Peering past his lover, Tony squinted into the dark interior of the house.

“He’s gone, Tony,” Joey said softly as he walked out onto the porch.

Tony sagged against the chaise, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart.  “I – “ He looked away from his lover.  “I didn’t think –“

A hand cupped his face and Tony looked up into Joey’s blue eyes.  “I would never put you in a position you were uncomfortable with, Tony, and bringing Javier out here without asking would have done that.”  Joey grinned against Tony’s lips.  “Unless you’d like a threesome?  I’ve noticed you looking, you know.”

Tony kissed Joey and then shook his head, letting himself relax even further.  Joey wouldn’t have done that to him – and he knew it.  His overactive imagination had just run away with him for a moment.  But now that he was calm once again, he could allow himself to believe in Joey again.  “Nah, not Javier.  He’s so not my type.”

”No?” Joey asked, his smile lighting up his eyes as he stared down at Tony.

“No, but I wouldn’t mind a little romp with Malina.”  Tony grinned as he watched Joey process that information, a small smile playing about his lips.

“You’d like to fuck Javier’s sister?”

Tony pouted.  “What?  She’s kinda cute!”

“In a totally feminine way, of course,” Joey said as he laid his body on top of Tony’s.

Tony chuckled.  “I’m not nearly as choosy as you are about the gender of my bedmates.”

“Mmm, so you’ve told me,” Joey said, squirming a little against Tony, like a puppy trying to get comfortable in his bed.

“Joe? Before you go to sleep, could you untie me?”

~*~*~

Tony figured Joey for the literal type, but he was still surprised when he woke up three days later to a light kiss on the lips from his lover… and a stray hand encircling his ankle.  Lifting his head, he blinked in shock when he saw Malina curled up on the foot of his bed.

“Hola, Tony,” she said softly, dipping her head a little and peering at him through the fall of her dark wavy hair.

Tony looked at Joey, who just smiled and began to undress.  When Tony could pull his gaze away from the sight of all that bronzed skin, he saw that Malina had undressed as well.  Reaching out, Joey took her hand, pulling her up toward the head of the bed.  She smiled down at Tony as she eased down to lay beside him, snugging up tight, her front to his.  Tony sighed softly as Joey molded himself to Tony’s back, his hand reaching around to grasp Tony’s cock, jacking it slowly as he tongued Tony’s ear.

“God, Joe –“ Tony gasped as Malina bent her head and began to kiss her way down his neck and across his chest.  Her fingers plucked at his nipples as her teeth lightly worried at a spot on his collarbone.  When her lips replaced her fingers on his nipples, Tony arched, bucking his hips into Joey’s hand.

“Want to fuck her, Tony?” Joey asked quietly, his lips brushing against Tony’s ear.

Tony’s only reply was a soft moan as Malina flicked his nipple with her tongue. 

“She wants you, you know,” Joey whispered.  “We talked about you, about how much she wants to be fucked by you… And I want to slip inside you then.  I want to fuck you while you’re inside of her, Tony.  I want to take you as you take her.”

“Yes,” Tony groaned.  “Please—“

Joey kissed Tony’s shoulder blade and then pulled away, rolling over to pull a tube of lube out of the side table.  “You’re such a boy scout, Tony,” he murmured as he scooted up behind Tony again. 

Tony gasped as Joey ran slicked fingers along the crack of his ass, his lubed finger dipping into his hole easily as Tony pushed back against him.  All too soon, Joey pulled his fingers out of Tony’s ass and told Malina to get ready.

The girl flipped over and crawled to the head of the bed, holding on to the headboard and sticking her ass out, arching her back prettily.  Tony positioned himself behind her and sank into her folds, sighing softly as his hips met her ass, skin sliding against skin. 

 

“Hold still, you two,” Joey said, slapping Tony’s ass lightly.  Tony stilled immediately, his back tensing as visions of a far darker sort flitted through his mind.  “You okay?” Joey asked as he draped himself over Tony’s back, kissing the back of Tony’s neck.

Tony shuddered once, pushing the dark thoughts from his mind.  Taking a deep breath, he nodded.  “Yeah – I’m good – but I’d be a damned sight better if you’d fuck me already.”

Joey chuckled lightly.  “Your wish is my command.”

Tony gasped when Joey pushed steadily forward, impaling him easily.  Without preamble, Joey began moving, slowly fucking Tony; each thrust pushing Tony’s cock deeper into Malina, every slow retreat pulling him back.  Rhythm found, the trio moved together, almost as if one unit, each giving and receiving pleasure in turn.

~*~*~

 

Tony woke some time later, curled up between Malina and Joey.  He smiled and stretched slightly, easing the ache from his back as he yawned expansively, one hand scratching lightly at his exposed stomach.

“Go back to sleep,” Joey murmured sleepily, burrowing his face against Tony’s nape.

Tony smiled and sighed softly.  He’d like another go – but he was in the mood for Joey, not Joey and Malina.  While the sex had been great, mind-blowing even, it wasn’t what he wanted now… and he’d go without before waking Malina and either having to let her participate or tell her to leave.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Joey whispered, kissing the back of Tony’s head lightly.

Tony turned in Joey’s arms, looking into sleepy blue eyes.  “Sorry,” he said softly.  “Go back to sleep.”

Joey smiled and closed his eyes.  Tony watched his lover sleep for a few minutes before climbing carefully from the bed.  Slipping on a pair of old sweatpants and a sweatshirt, he crept from the house. 

The sky was just beginning to lighten when Tony sank down into the deck chair.  He sighed softly as he looked out over the sand, drinking in the sight of the waves breaking on the beach.  After a few minutes, he peeled off the sweatshirt and stepped off the deck, breaking into a slow jog as he crossed the loose sand of the dunes.  When he got to the hard-packed sand near the water’s edge, Tony slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether, taking the time to stretch his muscles thoroughly before starting to run down the beach.

When Tony finally returned to the bungalow, Joey was waiting for him on the deck.  Tony saw Joey head into the house as he neared and reemerge a minute later with a large mug in his free hand. 

“Drinking for two?” Tony teased as he reached the porch.

Joey smiled and lifted one cup to his lips, taking a long sip.  “One is enough for me.  Unlike you, I like my stomach lining in one piece.  And you know damned well, this cup is for you,” he said, holding out the second mug to Tony.

Tony grinned, twisting side to side and then stretching to touch his toes before straightening up and putting one foot up on the deck.  He reached out and took the cup of coffee from Joey, thanking him before inhaling the steam rising from the cup. 

“God, that smells wonderful.”

Joey chuckled.  “Tastes pretty good too,” he said, taking another sip.

Tony grinned and blew across the top of his mug, his breath rippling the liquid inside, before tipping the cup and taking a sip of the hot brew.  “Mmm, you’re right.  It’s wonderful.  Thanks.”

Joey leaned down and kissed Tony before walking over and sinking down in Tony’s deck chair.  Tony continued with his stretches, using the edge of the deck for support as he stretched first one leg and then the other.  When he was finished, he walked across the deck and sank down on the same chair as Joey, settling in front of the other man and leaning back against his chest.  Joey wrapped one arm around Tony’s chest.

“So,” Tony began hesitantly, “is she gone?”

Joey kissed the top of Tony’s head.  “Yeah – she’s gone.”

Tony sighed softly and relaxed, letting Joey take his full weight.

“I’m sorry, Tony.  I didn’t think—“

Tony turned his head, looking up at Joey.  “No!  Don’t apologize.  Last night was – amazing.  Thank you.”

“But?” Joey prompted.

Tony blushed, looking out over the ocean again.  Joey nudged him gently and Tony sighed.  “Fine,” he groused softly.  “But – I was uncomfortable waking up next to her.  Okay?”

Joey kissed the top of Tony’s head again.  “Okay.”

~*~*~

The nightmares started three nights later.  Every night was different and every night he saw Jethro get shot.  The first nightmare scared the hell out of him and he woke wrapped in Joey’s embrace, the younger man patting him gently and murmuring soft words of comfort.  He didn’t sleep again that night, instead going out to the porch overlooking the ocean and staring out into the darkness.  The dream had seemed so real – and it terrified him just how much it had affected him.  By the time the sun came up, Tony had pushed the dream to the back of his mind, determined to forget about it.

When the dream repeated the next night, with just a slight variation on the theme, Tony figured it was just a fluke, albeit a freaky one.  When he dreamed of Jethro dying the third night, he knew he was in trouble.  Each night he woke, screaming hoarsely as if he’d been yelling for some time.  And each night Joey wrapped him in his arms and soothed his fears, kissing away his tears and holding him until he fell asleep again.

Every morning Tony woke early, feeling wrung out, carefully crawled from their bed and headed out to the beach, running until he fell to the sand in exhaustion.  Joey would find him an hour or so later and help him hobble back to the house, getting him settled on the porch before heading inside to fetch the coffee.

“Try turning back before you fall over, Tony.  It would make my life so much easier,” Joey groused on the third morning after handing Tony his coffee and climbing onto the chaise behind his lover.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Joey spoke again.  “Are we ever going to talk about this? Or is it just going to be the big elephant in the room that no one mentions?”

Tony watched Joey warily over the rim of his coffee cup.  Sure the elephant in the room was huge, but just how much of the truth could Joey handle before he ran screaming into the night?  He might be selfish, but he wasn’t ready to give Joey up yet.  What he saw surprised him, though.  Joey looked genuinely concerned – not upset, not judgmental.

Tony took another sip of his coffee, looking out over the sand to where the waves were breaking on the sand.  “Ask me again tomorrow – okay?”  He smiled at his lover.  “Today I just want to surf.”

So the pair surfed and played in the waves until they were both pleasantly exhausted.  Then they headed for home and the soft, inviting bed there where they made love slowly, deliberately staving off orgasm until neither one could think of anything else.  In the aftermath, they lay, arms and legs entwined.

Tony could feel the weight of Joey’s thoughts and he stifled a sigh, knowing that they would have to talk about that elephant sooner or later.  Maybe it should be sooner.  He rolled over to face Joey, drinking in the sight of his debauched lover’s face. 

Joey grinned lazily at his scrutiny before leaning forward and kissing Tony gently.  “What is it?”

Tony shrugged and sat up.  “I thought maybe we could take a walk.”

Joey stretched lazily.  “Now?”

Tony bit his lip and nodded.  “Yeah – maybe w-we could talk too.”

Joey reached out and cupped the side of Tony’s face and Tony couldn’t help but press into that touch briefly before turning his head and kissing Joey’s palm.  “You sure, Tony?”

Tony nodded and slipped from the bed, pulling on a pair of loose sweat pants before backing to the door.  “I – I’ll just wait out here,” he said quickly before slipping from the room.

He was sitting on the deck when Joey emerged a few minutes later.  When Joey made to sit next to him, Tony got to his feet and reached out to his lover.  Fingers entwined, they headed for the beach.

“You going to talk to me or am I just wasting my time out here?”

Tony sighed softly and turned to face his lover briefly before looking out over the waves again.  Joey looked concerned, but not pissed off – at least that was something.  But if he told him the truth? What then?  They had never discussed Tony’s past mainly because Tony was trying to put it all behind him.  That and, Tony didn’t think he could bear to see disgust in Joey’s eyes.  He wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t just shatter apart.

In the end, a quiet word or two, a gentle hug, and waiting got Joey what he wanted as Tony hesitantly began to relate the story of his life to his lover.  When he was talked out, Tony turned to Joey to see him wiping tears off his face.  Joey smiled sadly at him and pulled Tony into his arms and Tony was finally able to relax.  Joey knew who he was and didn’t judge him for it.

~*~*~

Even after ‘the talk’, as Tony came to think of it, the nightmares continued.  By the end of the next week Tony was exhausted, both physically and mentally.  For some strange reason, Joey decided that was a good time to have yet another heart-to-heart.

“You should call – find out if Jethro is okay,” he said one afternoon as they lay on the deck in the sunshine.

“Call?” Tony asked incredulously.  “Whom should I call?  Jethro?  What should I say? Oh, I know, how about: Hey, Jethro, it’s me, Tony.  I know I haven’t called in almost two years, but how are things?  Get shot lately?”

Joey snorted softly.  “Asshole,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Tony.  “I think you should call that fancy-pants lawyer of yours… or, maybe Abby.”

Tony pulled away and walked to the edge of the deck.  “No, I’ll be fine.”

Joey sighed and Tony felt himself flinch at the sound.  “Tony,” Joey said softly, from just behind him.  Tony stilled, caught unaware by Joey moving so quietly to stand behind him.  “You’re already exhausted from getting almost no sleep.  You need to put this to rest.”

Tony hung his head.  He knew Joey was right – and what would one little phone call cost him?  He didn’t think he could call Abby.  Their relationship had been too weird.  He knew he couldn’t just call Jethro.  That left Alton Harrison, his lawyer.

“Damn,” he said softly as he turned to face his lover.  “Why are you always right?”

Joey lifted a brow and smiled.  “Always?” he teased.

Tony grinned and stepped forward and put his arms around Joey, pulling him in for a kiss.  “Maybe not always, but sometimes it seems like it.  I’ll make that call.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Joey asked.

Tony realized it was almost time for Joey to leave for work and, since he was also working a day shift tomorrow, that meant there wouldn’t be any time to call later unless he wanted to make the call at three o’clock when Joey got home from the bar.  But, usually by that time, they made love and then Joey crashed, sleeping until about nine o’clock and getting up to go to work again.  He couldn’t take time out from Joey’s sleep to make a stupid phone call – but he also didn’t relish the thought of doing it when he was home alone.  Almost before he knew he’d made up his mind, he was nodding.  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His fingers were shaking as he opened his cell phone and dialed Alton Harrison’s number.  And, when he heard the voice on the other end of the phone, he almost couldn’t speak. 

“Alton Harrison.”

Only Joey’s hand in his, squeezing gently, helped him to pull himself together. 

In all the time he’d been gone, he had talked to his lawyer exactly once and that had been when Alton had called to tell him his parent’s house on Long Island had sold and he had deposited the rather large sum of money into his bank account.  Tony had left explicit instructions that he wasn’t to be bothered with anything less than a catastrophe – or something else that absolutely couldn’t be resolved without his input.  He guessed a deposit of nine million dollars into his bank account qualified.  They had discussed the disposition of funds and then Tony had hung up.  They hadn’t needed to speak again and he had left explicit instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed unless something dire happened.  Alton hadn’t called and Tony found he was actually relieved by that – until now.

Tony opened his mouth and, yet, no sound issued forth.  He couldn’t say it; he didn’t really want to know.  But somehow he already knew.  Something had happened.

He cleared his throat and tried again.  “Alton—“

“Tony?” Alton asked quietly.  “Tony, is it you?”

“I –“ Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Tony, it is you.  What’s going on?”

“Jethro,” Tony said quietly.  “Is – is he okay?”  When there was only silence on the other end of the phone, Tony sighed softly.  “What happened?”

There was a pause and, for a moment, Tony wasn’t sure if Alton was going to answer the question.  “He was shot, Tony.”

It was true.  Tony’s heart plummeted to his stomach and he could barely catch his breath.  Alton may have continued talking but Tony didn’t hear him; his world narrowed down to just three little words: he was shot.  A loud buzzing sound filled his ears and black spots danced before his eyes as he struggled to remember how to breathe.

Suddenly hands were on him, easing him back to lie on the chaise and his phone was ripped out of his hands.  Jethro – shot.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tony opened his eyes.  Joey was standing over him, Tony’s cell phone pressed to his ear.  He closed his eyes again. Maybe if he ignored it, things would go back to normal and the awful phone call would never have happened. 

“No way!  Tony is not up to finishing this conversation.”

Joey sounded like he was on a roll, but Tony really did need to find out just what had happened and he was furious that Alton hadn’t thought it important enough to call him about it.  He cracked open an eye and lifted his hand, waving it around wildly.  “Gimme!” he demanded, cringing when his voice cracked.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “Joe!  Gimme!”

Joey stopped ranting and stared down at Tony.

“Please, man.  I-I need to talk to him.”  Tony struggled up, swinging his legs over the side of the chaise and reaching up to take the phone.  “Please,” he said again.

Joey sighed loudly and handed the phone to Tony who nodded this thanks.  Reaching up, Tony pulled Joey down to sit beside him, clutching his lover’s hand tightly as he put the phone up to his ear again. 

“Alton – sorry, it’s Tony again.” 

Jethro had been shot while on a case, ambushed by a group of car thieves who were running a chop shop out of the motor pool at a marine base that Alton said he couldn’t name due to pending legal cases.  When Alton went on to tell Tony that Jethro was most likely going to be pushed into retirement, Tony couldn’t believe it.

“He’s going to be pushed out – for getting shot while on a case?  Hell, that can’t be the first time an NCIS Special Agent has been shot while on a case and you can’t tell me they’re all forced out of the agency when it happens!”

What Alton said next stopped him cold.  “No, but this is the third incident Jethro has had in the past eighteen months.”

Tony found it hard to catch his breath.  “What are you talking about?”  He pulled away from Joey and got to his feet, anger fueling his movements.  “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

There was a definite pause before Tony heard Alton Harris sigh softly.  “The other two incidents weren’t serious enough to warrant a phone call, Tony.”

 

“But they were serious enough to put his entire career in jeopardy?  How the hell can that be?”  Tony was pacing now but he couldn’t seem to stop his feet from moving.

“Tony, Jethro has been… off his game for a while now.  Maybe it’s time –“

Tony stilled then.  Jethro was off his game.  Three incidents in eighteen months.  Suddenly Tony knew what Alton wasn’t saying.  Things had fallen apart when Tony had left.

“Tony?  Are you there?”

The cell phone dropped from Tony’s fingers, clattering against the wooden deck.  The sudden noise didn’t affect Tony at all.  He simply turned and walked off the deck, heading for the beach.  He distantly heard Joey talking and assumed that he would take care of getting rid of his lawyer.  What happened after that, he really didn’t care.

~*~*~

Three days later Joey walked with Tony out onto the sand, sinking down to sit at the water’s edge and pulling Tony down to sit beside him.  “We need to talk.”

“Y-you’re leaving me?” Tony asked, fear and surprise evident in his voice.

Joey smiled sadly as he shook his head.  “Not leaving you, Tony.  Never leaving you.  But you don’t belong here.”  When Tony opened his mouth to protest, to tell Joey that here was exactly where he belonged, Joey put his fingers over Tony’s lips, stilling their movement.  “Tony, you’re obviously invested in what is happening on the east coast.  Jethro may be your former master, but you haven’t resolved your feelings where he’s concerned.  Hell, just offering to pay for the rehab facility should have told you that.”

Tony was shaking his head.  “No – it isn’t like that.  I’m not – I don’t have any feelings for Jethro.  He – he owned me!  He betrayed me.”

“And he saved you, Tony.  You have to come to grips with what happened to you and I don’t see how you can do that without confronting him again.”

Tony stared, shell-shocked by Joey’s words. 

”I love you, Tony, but I’m not sure that’s enough.”

Tony knew exactly what Joey meant.  Joey had told him numerous times that he loved Tony – and, while Tony loved Joey in turn, he wasn’t ‘in love’ with him and had never said the words.  He loved their time together but Joey had called him on the fact that he wasn’t concerned when Joey didn’t show up at Tony’s house after work.  Hell, he slept as well alone in his bed as with his young lover.  He never called to ask if Joey was okay when he didn’t come by.  Instead, he waited and went on with his normal routine.  Oh, he was genuinely happy when Joey came by again, usually taking him to bed right away as if to make up for lost time.  But Joey was right to want more.  Tony just couldn’t give him the happily ever after, the fairy tale ending.  He didn’t think it was in him any more.

~*~*~

June 17^th, 2004

Tony left California in mid June.  He and Joey had been nearly inseparable for the past few weeks and, even though he knew he wasn’t being fair to his lover, Tony couldn’t seem to get enough of him as if wanting to imprint his very essence onto his senses.  And if that was the case, why couldn’t he commit to him?  What was holding him back?

Finally, he had to admit that it was simple fear that was holding him back.  Fear of going back to something he wasn’t sure was real in the first place.  Sure, he had been attracted to Jethro from the first.  But, later, that attraction had been warped, changed into something he couldn’t begin to explain.  And now?  Was he supposed to give up Joey for some unnamable might-have-been?

In the end, it was Joey who was to decide his fate.  Tony had been out running, as was his normal morning routine.  When he finally got back to where the bungalow was, instead of heading up onto the deck as was usual for him, he sank down on the packed sand near the waterline watching the gulls soar above the water and thinking about his future.  After a few minutes, Joey joined him, handing Tony a steaming mug of coffee silently as he settled onto the sand beside him.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” Joey said after a minute.

Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off the water and the soaring birds.

“So, I was thinking I could help you pack.”

Tony stilled at the words, his breath catching in his throat.  He didn’t want to leave – yet, something deep inside seemed to loosen once Joey had spoken the words and he knew without a doubt that he needed to go. 

Joey nudged him with his shoulder, their bodies touching from knee to shoulder and Tony leaned into him.

“I don’t want to go,” Tony said after a minute.  “I want to stay here – right here – with you.”

Joey pressed back, putting an arm around Tony and squeezing gently.  “I may be selfish, but I’m kinda glad it’s not going to be easy for you to leave,” he said after a moment.  When Tony snorted softly, he turned and placed a light kiss on Tony’s temple.  “I mean it, Tony.  You’re a good man – and I will miss you more than you can know.”

Tony blinked back tears.  “I don’t have—“ Fingers on his lips quieted him and Tony turned to see Joey smiling sadly.

Joey shook his head slowly.  “No, Tony.  I can’t keep you here just because I want you to stay – and you can’t stay here out of a sense of guilt or out of fear of facing your past.  I will not be the reason you never healed.  I will not be the person you come to blame for your mediocre existence.”

Tony sniffled.  “Mediocre?  Oh, Joe – you really sell yourself short.”

Joey chuckled.  “No, Tony, I don’t.  I know I’m damned good and if I thought for a minute that my love alone was enough to sustain a healthy relationship, I would never let you leave.  But it’s not enough and I can’t fool myself into believing it would be – even to make it easier on you.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Joey got to his feet and reached down to Tony.  Tony stared at the hand for a few seconds before reaching up and letting Joey pull him to his feet.  Joey pulled Tony close and wiped the tears from his face before wrapping him in his arms and holding him tightly. 

Tony thought he could stay there forever, wrapped in Joey’s arms but all too soon the younger man pulled away.  Taking Tony’s hand, Joey smiled tremulously.  “Come on, Tony.  Let’s go in.  My butt’s falling asleep from sitting here on the sand.”

~*~*~

In the end it was as difficult for Tony to leave as he’d thought.  Joey had said his goodbyes before leaving for work and yet Tony felt like a traitor driving away from the empty bungalow.  He’d paid the rent through the end of the year, giving Joey a rent-free place to live.  It helped knowing that Joey would be living in their house – at least for a little while longer.  And, who knew – depending on how things went in DC, he might just be heading west again.  Maybe once he’d put Jethro behind him, he could be what Joey needed.

Tony took his time driving across the country.  Even when he tried to tell himself he was simply enjoying the ride, he knew it for the lie it was.  He was stalling for time.  If just the thought of going back to DC scared him this badly, he didn’t want to know what state he’d be in once he got there.  It was only by sheer force of will (and a few dozen text messages to Joey) that he made it.  The fact that it took him two weeks was beside the point.

~*~*~

July 1^st, 2004

Tony sat in front of the house for quite a while as the sun sank further into the west and twilight began to fall.  It was a Thursday and, since Jethro should still be on medical leave pending an investigation into the events surrounding his injury (or so Alton had said when he had called) he figured it was safe to just show up at the house.  It wasn’t like Jethro was going to be working late or anything. 

As Tony pondered the subtle changes in the place, the front door slammed and a young boy trotted down the front steps.  “Dad!” he called as he traversed the front walk.

Much to Tony’s shock, a man stepped out of the garage, wiping his hands on a cloth.  He saw the man smile at the boy and realized with a start that the man wasn’t Jethro.  This man was shorter than Jethro, stockier, and had dark hair.  So what were these people doing in Jethro’s house?  Visiting?

As Tony watched, a woman came to the door, smiling out at the man and boy as they walked toward the front door.  As the boy walked up the steps, the man turned and looked at Tony.  His hand on the railing, he hesitated and then turned back to the woman.  Tony heard him say something, but the voice was too low for him to make out the words.  And then the man was walking purposefully across the lawn, heading toward where Tony sat in the Mustang.  He knew he should just leave but he was too stunned by the presence of the strangers who seemed to be inhabiting Jethro’s house to leave. 

The man was smiling as he walked up to the car.  “You looking for someone?” he asked easily, leaning with one hand braced on the passenger-side door.

Suddenly Tony’s mind was blank.  The man had surprised him by coming to the car and the question just didn’t make any sense to him at first.  Was he looking for someone?  Hell yes.  Wasn’t this Jethro’s house?  He knew he hadn’t made a mistake.  He knew he was at the right address.  So where the hell was Jethro?  Was he still in rehab? And, if he was, who were these people and why were they in Jethro’s house?

“Sir?” the man said.  “Can I help you?”

Tony looked up at the stranger.  “Um – I – I’m looking –“ Tony hesitated.  What did he say to this man?  Was this even Jethro’s house any more?

Tony could feel the emotions welling up inside him.  He’d traveled across the country to confront his past only to find things in turmoil.  As Tony debated the sanity of him having driven so far to be confronted with absolute change, the man smiled.

“Is your name Tony by any chance?  Tony DiNozzo?”

Tony stared up at the man in shock, unable to utter a sound.

The man chuckled softly.  “I’m Tom – Tom Williams.  We, my wife and I, bought this house about a month ago.  I was given something for a Tony DiNozzo if he ever showed up.”  Tom stared at Tony for a moment before shrugging.  “I have to admit, you’re a might blonder than I was told, but the rest of the description was spot on.”

Tony cleared his throat.  “I – I’ve been living on the beach,” he said, surprising himself.  “My hair is usually a little darker.”

Tom nodded, still smiling.  “So you’re Tony then?  Jethro’s Tony?”

Tony swallowed.  Jethro’s Tony?  Just the sound of that sent shivers up his spine.  Was he Jethro’s Tony?  And, more importantly, did he want to be?  Before he could talk himself out of it, Tony found himself nodding.  “Yeah, I’m Tony.  Tony DiNozzo.”

Tom nodded, smiling widely and holding out his hand.  After a moment, Tony reached out and shook his hand.  “Nice to meet you,” Tom said easily, seeming to be unaware of Tony’s discomfort.  “Why don’t you come in?”

Tony shook his head.  “I – I couldn’t –“

“Nonsense.  Come on,” Tom said as he turned away.  “I have to find your letter anyway.”

Letter.  Jethro left a letter for him then – possibly letting him know how to find him.  God, he hoped it told him how to find Jethro.  He’d traveled all this way.  He’d given up a perfectly fine relationship in California to confront Jethro and figure out just what he wanted out of his life only to find Jethro had sold his house. 

Sighing softly, Tony got out of the car and followed Tom to the house, pausing on the top step.  Tom continued on into the house, calling back to Tony to follow him inside.  Tony reached out and pulled the door open, hesitating on the stoop, unsure if he could handle going inside.  But then he remembered that he’d traveled all this way to confront Jethro and if he hadn’t wanted to go inside the house, what was he doing here? 

“Idiot,” he muttered as he stepped into the house.  Looking around, Tony could see subtle changes.  The walls had been painted in light colors, there were paintings on the walls and flowers sat in a vase on a little table just inside the door.  It really wasn’t Jethro’s house anymore.

“Tony!  I’m in the kitchen – come on in!”

Tom’s voice pulled Tony from his reverie and he reluctantly began to walk down the hallway toward the kitchen.  As Tony passed the living room, he stumbled to a stop.  There, sitting with its back to the window, was Jethro’s chair.  Even in a different place in the room, it was obviously the same chair and its presence in the house unnerved Tony even more than if Jethro had answered his summons at the door in a pair of flannel jammies with a teddy bear tucked up under his arm.

“Tony?”

Tony looked up to see Tom leaning out of the kitchen doorway.

“You okay there?”

Tony nodded as he turned from the room.  “D-did Jethro sell the house furnished?” he asked as he stepped into the all-to-familiar kitchen.  Jethro had made the cabinets by hand and the wood gleamed in the afternoon sunshine coming in through the back windows.

Tom shrugged eloquently.  “I don’t – I guess, partially.”  He paused.  “Miranda?”

Tom’s wife lifted her head from where she was working at the kitchen counter.  “Yes, Tom?”

“Was the house furnished when we moved in?”

Miranda smiled and then, surprisingly winked at Tony.  “You mean when I moved in?” she asked saucily.  Turning to Tony she continued in a loud stage-whisper, “Tom was away on business when Jake and I moved into this house.  He came home to find everything already put away.  Jake even had the cellar door painted by then!”

Tony frowned, trying to remember just where the cellar door would have been but he kept coming up blank.  The cellar had been unfinished and didn’t have an outside entrance that he could recall.  Sure, he’d been a little messed up when he was living with Jethro but how could he have missed a door?

“Tony? Are you okay?”

Miranda’s voice pulled Tony from his musings and he blushed.  “S-sorry,” he said quickly.  “I was just thinking a-about the basement.  I – I don’t remember a door leading outside from there.”

Miranda smiled and waved her knife as she spoke.  “Well, that’s not surprising.  The entrance was added shortly before we moved in.  Although why someone would go to all the trouble to excavate an entrance into a fully submerged basement I’ll never know – especially since he was moving out of the place.”

Tony bit his lip.  “Would you mind if I took a look at the basement?” he asked after a moment of thought.

Miranda frowned and looked at her husband.  Tony turned to follow her gaze and saw that Tom was staring at him with an introspective look on his face. 

Tony held up his hands.  “Look, you don’t know me and I’m really sorry to have imposed.  You said you had something for me?”  This last was directed to Tom.

Tom merely shook his head.  “Yeah, I do – but come on and look at the basement first if you want to.”

Tony thanked him and then followed Tom to the basement.  Walking down the steps brought back many memories of watching Jethro work on his boat; sitting on the stairs with a cold drink while Jethro sanded or drilled or fitted boards to the frame of the boat.  Then Tony got a good look at the basement and it stopped him cold.

The basement had been gutted.  Jethro’s workbench was gone.  The washer and dryer had been walled in, making a separate laundry area from the main room.  The main room itself was what really threw Tony, though.  It had been turned into a family room of sorts.

“This is Jake’s room really,” Tom said after a moment’s silence.  “It’s where he comes to play his games.  I think he’s got every system known to man by now,” he said with a chuckle.

Tony barely heard Tom’s soliloquy.  The boat was gone.  The boat – Jethro’s boat.  The room had been totally renovated and looked comfortable enough – but to Tony it looked bereft.  The boat had imparted a certain charm to the basement – and now it looked like any other basement in any other house in any neighborhood.  The house really wasn’t Jethro’s anymore.

“Tony?”

 

Tom’s voice pulled him back to the present and he looked over to where his host was standing.  It took Tony a minute to grasp what he was seeing, but when he did, he started to laugh.  Tom was standing in front of a pair of double doors and, when he pulled them open, Tony saw a set of stairs leading up to the backyard.  A makeshift ramp laid over the stairs and it would have been relatively easy to get a boat out in one piece, especially if the building had been added over the entry-way after the boat had been removed.

“Well, he said he was going to do it,” Tony murmured as he walked over to the cement steps.

“I’m sorry?”

Tony turned to face Tom and smiled as he saw the confusion on the other man’s face.  “I suppose the boat was already gone when you bought the house.”

“The boat?”

Tony chuckled.  “Yeah.  Jethro was building a boat in this basement,” Tony explained.

“A boat,” Tom said slowly as if in disbelief.  And, really, Tony could hardly blame him.  He’d lived here and could barely believe that Jethro had been building a boat in his basement.  At Tony’s nod, Tom shook his head.  “Well, now I think I’ve heard everything.”

Tony snorted.  “Yeah? Well, when I think that, someone does something really crazy to prove me wrong.”

Tom laughed then and Tony followed him up the stairs.  Miranda met them in the kitchen.  “I found the letter,” she said, holding it out to Tony.

Tony stared at the envelope for a long moment before taking it.  “Thanks,” he said softly as he turned the envelope over in his hands.  There were two typed words on the front of the envelope – Tony DiNozzo.

~*~*~

Tony waited until he was back in his car to open the envelope and, when he did, he was surprised to see that the letter inside was from Abby.  The message was short and to the point: I know where he is, Abby.  Those six words were followed by a phone number.

Tony sat in front of Jethro’s house – well, he supposed he couldn’t call it that any more – until Tom and Miranda came to the door.  He waved the envelope at then and then pulled away from the curb, using their driveway to turn around in and then driving away, the house clear in his rearview mirror this time until the road curved and the house was lost from sight.

He drove into town again and pulled into the parking lot of a diner.  Picking up the letter, he considered his options.  He’d traveled two thousand seven hundred miles to confront Jethro.  Was he ready to just give up because Jethro had moved on without him?

Tony sighed as he remembered his last written words to Jethro: wait for me.  Silly thing was, he had really expected Jethro to do just that.  But two years is a long time and if he thought about it, Tony really couldn’t blame Jethro for giving up on him.  And maybe it was for the best after all.

Picking up his cell phone, Tony dialed.

“Tony?”

Tony held his breath, not sure of his welcome, the voice on the phone more perplexed than pleased.

“Tony, what’s wrong?”

 

Tony took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh.  “J-Joe?” he said, his voice breaking slightly. 

“Tony, you’re scaring me here.  Are you okay?” 

Joey sounded so concerned that Tony had to blink away threatening tears, and damn, that made him mad.  When had he turned into such a sissy?  It seemed like tears were a mere thought away these days and he was damned sick of breaking down at every little thing.

 

“Tony, I’m going to call in the cavalry if you don’t answer me.”

Tony could hear the change in Joey’s voice and knew the other man would call the cops if he thought he needed to and, damn, Tony really didn’t think he could handle having the cops come for him.

“I –“ He cleared his throat.  “I’m here, man.”  Tony took another deep breath as he heard Joey sigh softly.

“What’s the matter, Tony?” Joey asked, his voice still registering concern but edging away from panic.

“It’s Jethro.  He’s – he’s gone.”

There was a moment of silence on the phone and Tony thought Joey was probably holding back his snort of disbelief at Tony’s stupidity.

“Aw, Tony.  Man, I’m so sorry.  I know you wanted – needed to see him.”  Joey paused.  “So what are you going to do now?”

Tony stared out of the windshield of his car, his fingers playing over the edges of the note Abby had left for him.  “I – damn, Joe.  I don’t know.”  He bit his lip, looking down at the words on the note: I know where he is.  “Abby – you remember me telling you about her?”

“Yeah.”

“She left me a note.”

Tony heard Joey huff out a breath and he knew Joey was probably thinking about the time Jethro had left Tony with Abby – and her utter disregard for Jethro’s feelings about how his slave should be treated and Tony’s subsequent breakdown.  “What did it say?” Joey asked after a minute.

“I know where he is.  And she also included her phone number.”  Tony looked out of his window again, startled to see a man walking toward his car, a petite female slave in tow.  They were both sweating heavily and it took Tony a moment to realize that he was at the same park where he and Jethro had gone running.  The pair crossed in front of Tony’s car and Tony realized the slave was wearing convict chains.  He watched as the owner opened the back of his car, waiting for the slave to kneel on the floorboards before affixing her leash to a tie point on the floor and then slamming the door closed.  The man turned to look at Tony again and Tony realized he was staring – and the slave owner had obviously noticed.  Well, damn.  He turned away from the sight and ran a shaking hand over his face.  He hadn’t realized how nice it had been to be away from the major slave markets.  There would be more slaves here than he had become used to over the past two years.  Sure, the major cities all had markets, but he had tried to stay away from places with high slave populations, still uncomfortable with the sight of convict slaves and chain gangs.  The lesser populated areas had a lower slave population and he found it easier to handle the sight of the slaves if there weren’t so damned many of them.

After a minute, Tony realized that Joey was hollering, trying to get his attention.  Startled out of his reverie he offered an apology and an explanation because Joey deserved to know why he’d been distracted.

“You going to be able to handle being back in the big city?” Joey asked and Tony found himself shrugging.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but you and I both know I had to do this.  You were right – I need to see where I stand with Jethro, although with him leaving, I’m not so sure I don’t already know.”

“You’re thinking he doesn’t care—“

“Thinking?” Tony interrupted angrily.  “He fucking moved out!  He sold his house!”  Tony sighed softly.  “I told him to wait for me.”

“Tony – you’ve been gone almost two years.  That’s a long time for anyone to wait.  Especially –“

“When I never called,” Tony finished for him.  “I know.  I’m a selfish ass.”

Joey chuckled softly.  “You’re not an ass, Tony – but I think you need to take a step back and look at this from Jethro’s point of view.  You already know that he was very much affected by your leaving.  His three job-related injuries attest to that.  He waited for almost two years.  Now it’s up to you.”

Tony frowned.  “How so?”

“You have the phone number of someone who claims to know where he is.  You just need to decide if you want to see him badly enough to face yet another ghost from your past.”

Tony knew Joey was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to dial the number on the paper.  Waiting for someone to answer was even more difficult and Tony knew that Abby might still be at work – so maybe no one was at home?

The phone was answered on the third ring and just for a moment, Abby’s voice threw Tony painfully into the past again.  It was a good thing he was sitting down because he was sure he would have been on his knees in a heartbeat.  It was her voice, the way she said his name – and he decided that caller ID sucked because it would have been so much easier to just listen to her voice for a moment and decide if he really wanted to go through with this.  But now she knew he was calling and he had to answer – if he could just unlock his throat muscles, that is.

Before he knew what happened, Abby was inviting him to her house the next day and he was accepting.  Holy shit, what had he gotten himself into this time?  All he really wanted was to know where Jethro was so he could talk to him and then get the hell out of Dodge, because the more he thought about it, the more he realized he should have stayed in California and forgotten all about his life ‘before’.

“Do you have a place to stay, Tony?”

Tony bit his lip.  He didn’t have a place to stay – but he really didn’t want Abby to know that he had planned to ask Jethro if he could stay in his spare room.  Damn.

“You don’t, do you?” Abby said after a few moments of silence while he tried to come up with a suitable lie.

Tony huffed out a sigh of frustration, knowing he wouldn’t be able to lie to Abby adequately enough to have her not call him on it.  At the best of times he wasn’t a great liar.  Times like this, when he was already so nervous, there was no way for him to pull it off.  “No, Abby.  I don’t have anything lined up yet.”

“Stay with us,” Abby answered quickly.  As if expecting Tony to shoot her idea down, she added, “We have plenty of room here – two houses worth, in fact.  You’d have plenty of privacy.”  Allowing him little time to think it over, she finished with, “Please, Tony.  I promise we won’t bother you.”

“Fine,” he conceded after a long pause.

Abby squealed with what sounded like delight and then gave Tony directions to her house.  Sure, he’d been there before but, as he’d realized as soon as he pulled into Alexandria, having been driven there and driving there were two vastly different things.  He guessed it was the difference between wearing chains and being free.  Before, he hadn’t needed to pay attention to where he was being taken but now he had to more than pay attention to his surroundings since there was no one to protect him anymore.  Funny, he didn’t remember freedom being so exhausting before he’d been enslaved.

Tony hadn’t been prepared for the sight that greeted him when he walked up to Abby’s door.  Abby owned a duplex and, since the last time Tony was there the doors had been painted: one red, one green.  He knew Abby had lived in the left side of the building – the side with the red door.  But when he approached, a small discreet sign in the window said to please use the other door.  He’d sighed softly and headed toward the green door, which, last he knew had been where Galen was living.  But all that paled in comparison with what he saw when Abby opened the door.

“Tony,” Abby said easily, pulling the door open further and gesturing him inside.  “Come on in.”

Tony couldn’t make his feet move, his gaze straying from Abby’s eyes to her bulging stomach only to return to her eyes and then her stomach again.  Abby noticed his preoccupation – and, really, how could she miss it?  She smiled as her free hand caressed the mound of her stomach gently.

“You’re –“

“Pregnant, Tony.  Yes, I am.”  Abby’s smile grew wider.  “Come on, Tony.  Galen is waiting to see you.”

“G-Galen?” he stammered uneasily. 

Abby giggled.  “Yeah, Galen.  He kinda lives here too.”

Tony couldn’t make sense of anything and he was getting frustrated by Abby not coming out and actually telling him anything.  Biting back a sigh, Tony hefted his overnight bag and entered the house, wincing as Abby closed the door at his back.

“Come on, Tony.  I’ll show you around.  We’ve made some improvements since you were here last.”

~*~*~

It turned out that Galen was at work.  He’d gotten a job working as a program director for the DC Parks and Recreation department – working with inner city kids and developing programs designed to keep them off the streets.  Apparently being confined to a wheelchair hadn’t slowed him down any.  In fact, Abby said Galen had started a wheelchair basketball league.  Anyone could join – but everyone played from a chair.  Not only did it impart valuable insight into the lives of handicapped persons, it was also one of the most popular programs he managed.

Tony talked with Abby long enough to get the grand tour and to find out that Abby was very much in love with the man she had donated half of her property to.  It also seemed that the feeling was mutual as Abby threw herself at Galen when he arrived home.

Galen greeted Tony warmly and Tony found it easy to respond in kind simply because Galen couldn’t encroach on his personal space.  A fierce blush suffused Tony’s face with blood as he realized this and he turned away from the happy couple quickly, hoping his red face would escape notice.  But it seemed that this wasn’t going to be his lucky day as Abby called him on it almost immediately.

Tony stammered his way through a lie to her questions, explaining that he was simply overtired from his trip, and excused himself to get some rest before dinner.  He figured he’d probably made a mistake by taking her up on her offer of a room, but damn, his mouth and brain seemed seriously disconnected since he’d arrived on the east coast.  If he wasn’t careful he could find himself in a mess.

Abby walked him to his room and told him dinner would be served at seven o’clock.  “I know you’re tired, but join us whenever you’re ready, Tony.” 

And then she was gone and Tony found himself alone in a strange room.  Another strange room in a long line of strange rooms, it would seem and he longed, not for the first time, for the bungalow on the beach – and Joey.  Long limbs, warm skin, and a sense of well-being that he hadn’t felt in so long that he he’d almost given up on ever feeling it again.

Tony sighed softly as he lay on the big soft bed, his hand reaching for the cell phone at his hip.  Lifting the phone, he frowned before opening his contacts and making a call.

“Alton, I need you to do something for me.”

~*~*~

A party – a small party, Abby had said over dinner.  Although what the party was for he had no clue.  He supposed it could be an Independence Day party but the 4^th wasn’t until Sunday and wouldn’t a party be better planned for Saturday rather than Friday?  One good thing about a Friday party, though, was that it was bound to be shorter than a Saturday party, which had the possibility of lasting all day.  However, just thinking about a party had Tony’s stomach tied up in knots and had kept him from sleeping.

It was now morning and he was trying to slip from the house without anyone noticing he was going but as soon as he cracked the front door open he heard it – footsteps. 

“Going out?” Abby asked softly from the doorway leading into the kitchen.

He slowly turned, fear trickling down his spine and hating himself for allowing her to get to him with two little words.  “J-just going running,” he said softly, unable to meet her frankly appraising gaze.

Hearing a small sigh, Tony risked a glance up and saw Abby smiling sadly.  “Liar,” she said.  “Tony, please don’t run away.  I – you’ll want to be here later.  I invited Jethro.”

Tony stilled, his stomach suddenly feeling as if it were plummeting to his feet, a scared sick feeling filling him up.  He clutched the door for support, his knees feeling like they would no longer support his weight.

“Tony?” Abby said, her voice laced with concern.  “You came here because you were looking for Jethro.  Why are you so freaked out by my inviting him to dinner tonight?”

Tony clutched the door tighter, the edges of the wood digging into the palm of his hand.  Suddenly Abby was at his side, her arm around him, giving him support.  He looked at her as he struggled not to pull away from her touch.  It was okay.  He wasn’t a slave any longer.  His body belonged to him and nothing would happen here that he didn’t expressly want to happen.  Abby was just helping him.

Abby led Tony into the kitchen and pressed a cup of coffee into his cold hands.  He wrapped his fingers around the cup, soaking up the warmth.

“You okay?” Abby asked.

Tony nodded, not meeting her eyes, not wanting her to see just how far from ‘all right’ he really was. Abby seemed to buy his assurances, however, as she didn’t press him any further.  He sipped at his coffee and gradually felt himself begin to relax again.

“Why don’t you use the gym today, Tony?  We have a really awesome treadmill in there.  Use program twelve.  It’s pretty challenging.”

Tony still felt shaky and had to agree that it probably wasn’t a great idea for him to go out to run, especially since he didn’t really know the area.  In his current frame of mind, he was a prime target to get mugged or something.

“Thanks, Abby,” Tony said softly.  “The treadmill would probably be best.  But program twelve?  Who was it written for?”

Abby smirked.  “Me!”

Tony snorted.  “You?” he asked, staring at her for a moment in disbelief.

Abby put her hands on her hips and frowned.  “I haven’t been pregnant forever, Tony.  I’ll have you know I run – ran every day up until a couple of weeks ago.  Now I just walk.”

“So – when is the baby due?”

Abby smiled and rubbed her belly.  “Babies,” she said proudly.  “We’re having twins.”

Tony gaped.  He couldn’t help it.  Babies – twins.  But last night, he’d seen Galen and Abby together and they were close – closer than friends close.  So whose babies was Abby having?

Abby’s giggle pulled Tony from his reverie and he blushed when he realized that he’d been staring at Abby’s stomach.  “The babies are due at the beginning of September.  We’re very excited.”

“We?”  Tony asked, his voice breaking slightly as he belatedly realized he’d spoken out loud.

Abby tipped her head to one side as she regarded Tony.  “Galen and I, of course.  Who did you think--?”  Abby suddenly smiled and patted Tony’s arm.  “You didn’t think Galen was capable of fathering children, did you?”  Tony felt himself blush furiously.  “Well, I won’t get into the gory details, but these children are biologically Galen’s and mine, Tony.  It is a miracle what medical science can accomplish.”

“But you –“ Tony paused.  He really didn’t want to piss Abby off.  Truth be told Abby still scared him a little.  “Are you going to get married?” he finally asked.

Abby laughed at that.  “Tony – marriage isn’t necessary to having children.”

Tony shrugged.  It wasn’t as if he really believed in marriage – not after what he’d witnessed growing up, but if Mike had lived and they were still together when same-sex marriage had been legalized, he would have wanted to marry him.  Marriage was more than a piece of paper.  It was a commitment, an irrefutable affirmation of the love between two people.

“It’s not necessary but it is something that both Galen and I believe in.  That’s why we’re getting married on Sunday.  Jethro is coming by tonight because he is going to give the bride away.”

~*~*~

Tony’s day passed in a flurry of nervous energy.  It wasn’t until much later, when he was finally heading to bed that he had a chance to go over in his head everything that had happened. 

He’d made it through the day only by helping Abby around the house, straightening up in the living room, helping to prepare the food in the kitchen and, finally, setting the dining room table.  Abby was pretty particular in her own home and Tony could tell she was trying to work off some nervous energy of her own.  As much as she said that getting married was “no big deal”, she obviously wanted everything to be perfect and the strain was beginning to show.  Tony finally talked her into lying down for a short nap around three o’clock.  That left him with three hours or so of free time, since both Galen and Jethro were expected to arrive around six that evening. 

He’d been reading in the living room when the doorbell rang.  Glancing up at the clock, Tony saw that it was still early.  The doorbell rang a second time and Tony pushed to his feet with a muffled curse.  Abby was still sleeping and he could tell how exhausted she was when she went to bed.  He really didn’t want her disturbed so he hurried to the door, throwing it open before the bell could ring a third time.

Seeing Jethro standing on the front steps had nearly undone him and Tony could do nothing but gape at the man standing in front of him.

“Tony,” Jethro said softly, breaking the spell.

Tony took a step back, wiping his suddenly sweating palms on his jeans.

“I – didn’t – I –“ Jethro huffed out a loud sigh.  “What the hell are you doing here?”

Tony’s tentative smile faltered and he whimpered.  “I – I’m sorry,” he stammered as he looked up, belatedly realizing that he’d dropped to his knees when Jethro had snapped at him.

Jethro took a faltering step forward and Tony flinched, lowering his gaze submissively and wrapping his arms around his torso.  “I’m sorry, Tony.  I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Tony snorted.  “I – d-don’t want to be a-fraid of you.  Y-you s-startled me.”  Tony could hear footsteps coming closer and then the front door closed quietly.  While he wanted to look up, to drink in the sight of Jethro, he found himself almost paralyzed with a deep, aching mortification at his actions and he couldn’t do it.  He knew that Jethro must think him a fool right now and he couldn’t bear to see the censure in the other man’s eyes.  Not when he’d waited so long to just see him again – to get some kind of affirmation from the man – to know that he was Jethro’s equal again and that Jethro could accept him as such.  If they ever decided to alter that relationship, he would have a say in it – something that was missing last time around.

A soft rustling sound made Tony wonder just what Jethro was doing.  He tried willing his body to unclench but it wasn’t happening very quickly.  Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, envisioning the Pacific Ocean; the sight he had seen from his porch every morning, the waves breaking gently on the shore.  Little by little he could feel his muscles begin to relax.  After a few minutes, he risked a glance around only to find Jethro sitting tailor fashion just in front of him and Tony stilled, looking away quickly.  Another few breaths and he forced himself to look toward Jethro once again.

Jethro sat very still, his legs bent, his ankles crossed, his hands resting lightly on his knees.  Tony lifted his head slightly, looking into Jethro’s eyes.  He was surprised by the acceptance there and wondered if he was simply reading the other man incorrectly.  With a soft sigh, Tony rubbed his eyes quickly with the heels of his hands. 

“You d-don’t have to look at me l-like that,” Tony said after a minute.  “I – I’m not usually s-such a nut case.”

“I don’t think you’re a nut case, Tony,” Jethro answered easily and Tony shrugged as he picked at the seam of his blue jeans.  All Tony could think of at the moment was a similar scene with Jethro sitting in front of him – and he was wrapped up like a mummy in a straight jacket.  Yeah, the stuff of dreams all right.  Nightmares.

“You sh-should.  But I – I’ve been okay.  I even managed not to f-fall to my knees all the damned time until today.”  Tony was angry now – angry that Jethro’s mere presence could send him crashing to his knees without consciously thinking about it.  Who was he kidding thinking that he could reforge a friendship with this man? 

Jethro simply nodded.  “I believe you, Tony.”

Tony growled softly.  “How can you?” he hissed angrily.  “How can you believe that I w-was able to hold it together when the f-first thing I d-do is fall to my knees when I see you?”  Tony huffed out a breath and then lowered his voice.  “The f-fucking st-stutter is even back.”  He ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands lightly.  “I h-hate this!”

This time it was Jethro who looked away.  “I’m sorry, Tony,” he said as he turned to face Tony again.  “I didn’t mean for everything to go to shit the way it did.  I was just trying to keep you safe.”

Tony hiccupped a little, ending in a small laugh.  “I know,” he said softly, lifting his gaze to meet Jethro’s.  “It t-took me a while but I f-finally understand that.  Th-the system is just f-fucked up, Jethro.  And m-my f—“  Tony bit back a sob and suddenly Jethro was there, wrapping him in his strong arms and tucking him up against his strong hard body.  Tony tensed for a moment, the instinct of self preservation kicking in, and then, gradually he began to relax.

After a few long minutes, Tony finally realized he was wrapped in Jethro’s strong arms and he pulled away, not able to meet the older man’s gaze.  He was embarrassed by his outburst and angry that he still reacted the way he did to seemingly mundane things.  How could he ever be this man’s equal when he still felt like his slave?

Jethro seemed to recognize Tony’s discomfort and he scooted backwards a few feet, getting to his feet slowly and waiting for Tony to do the same.  Tony was grateful for the distance and he tried on a tremulous smile as he got to his feet.  There was a moment of awkward silence before Jethro asked where Abby was.

“Sleeping,” Tony answered, enunciating carefully to avoid stuttering again.  He could feel his body tremble and consciously tried to calm himself.  Taking another deep breath, he forged ahead.  “Would you l-ike something to d-rink, Jethro?”

Jethro hesitated before nodding and Tony wondered at it briefly as he led the way into Abby’s kitchen.

“You seem real comfortable here, Tony,” Jethro remarked as he took a seat at the breakfast bar.

Tony shrugged as he took a glass out of the cupboard.  “N-not really,” he answered, “b-but Abby c-caught me trying to lie about h-having a p-place to stay and insisted I b-bunk here.”

Jethro snorted softly.  “Well, that sounds like Abby,” he said easily.  He took a long drink of the ice water.  “So – if you didn’t have a place to stay, what were your plans?”

Tony gaped, momentarily stunned into silence.  How did he tell Jethro that he’d hoped to be invited to stay with him – at his house?  As the reality of his situation sank in, Tony could feel a blush suffuse his face and he turned away from Jethro’s piercing gaze.

“Did you go to the house first?” Jethro asked.

Tony nodded, not turning to look at Jethro, but feeling Jethro’s gaze bore into his back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t wait like you asked.”

Tony bit his lip.  “’s okay,” he murmured.

“Not really,” Jethro said and Tony, surprised by the words, turned back around to face him. 

Jethro’s face was pensive and Tony remembered Alton’s words: Jethro has been off his game for a while now.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

Jethro looked up quickly and Tony smiled.  “Sorry for what, Tony?”

Tony shrugged.  “For leaving – for staying away so long – for not keeping in touch.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Damn it, Jethro.  None of this w-was supposed to happen.  I didn’t want—“

“I know, Tony,” Jethro said, interrupting Tony’s ramblings. 

The two men stared at each other for a long minute and then Tony sighed, breaking the tension.  Jethro took a drink of his water and Tony couldn’t help but watch the way his throat worked and he found himself wanting to reach out and touch.  Gripping the edge of the counter tightly, Tony took a deep breath.

“So what now?”

Jethro set his glass down and looked up at Tony.  “I don’t know,” he answered with a little shrug.  “I know what I’d like to happen, but what about you?  What do you want to happen, Tony?”

Tony looked down at the counter for a moment before lifting his gaze to find Jethro staring at him.  “I came back for you,” Tony said.  “I came back to see why you haunt me so.”

 

“Is that so?” Jethro asked softly.

Tony nodded, biting his lip.  “I need to know if we could have had anything real between us – or if it was all a lie.”

“It wasn’t a lie, Tony,” Jethro said earnestly, leaning forward.

Tony took a step back.  “I don’t know what to believe, Jethro.”

As Jethro eased back onto the stool again footsteps sounded.  Tony swiveled his head toward the door as Jethro turned on the stool.

“Abby,” Jethro said easily as he got to his feet.  Walking over the young woman, he gave her a quick hug and then rubbed a hand over her bulging stomach.  “Those little ones treating you okay today?”

Abby smiled up at Jethro with such love and trust in her eyes it made Tony’s heart ache.  He’d give almost anything to be able to trust like that again.  Watching the two together he realized that was what he was missing: the ability to just let go and trust another human being.  Without that ability, he wouldn’t be able to open his heart.  And if he couldn’t open his heart, he couldn’t love.  But how did you learn to trust again when your entire world had been ripped apart by those whom you loved and trusted in the first place?

Tony pasted a smile on his face when Abby and Jethro turned to him and he hoped he hadn’t missed anything vital because he hadn’t been paying attention to what they’d been saying, having been too caught up in their body language.  Abby looked a little sad and Jethro had put his arm around her.

“Tony, we’re going into the living room to chat.  Would you like to join us?”

Jethro nodded once and smiled and Tony bit back a sigh of frustration.  He wasn’t sure he really wanted to go with them, but with Abby asking like she knew he was going to say no and Jethro clearly wanting his company, Tony found himself agreeing almost before he could register the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m going to get something to drink.  I’ll be there in a minute,” Abby said as she ducked out from under Jethro’s arm.  “You two go on.”

“You aren’t really comfortable around Abby, are you?” Jethro asked once he’d settled himself in a chair in the living room.

Tony startled, stilling himself for what he was sure would be a reprimand.  When he dared to look at Jethro, the other man was simply watching him as if waiting for an answer.  Tony shrugged.  “N-not really,” he admitted softly.

“Still remembering her mastering you?” Jethro’s voice was very casual but Tony sensed an underlying something that made him tense.

“I – I guess so,” Tony answered noncommittally. 

“She was only trying to help, Tony.  And I think she did an okay job helping you through those first days, don’t you?”

Tony watched Jethro, hoping for some sign as to where this conversation was actually heading.  “She did a great job helping me g-get over the f-first shock of being a s-slave.  I-I hated her a little bit f-for making me act like that – but I know she was just doing what needed to be done.”

“Then what is this all about Tony?  When I look at you watching Abby I can see that you don’t trust her.  She can see it too, you know.”

Tony nodded.  “I j-just can’t help it, Jethro.  Th-that last time… She stepped over the line.  Sh-she treated me l-like –“

“Like a slave?” Jethro said quietly, smiling sadly when Tony nodded.  A soft sigh sounded and Tony looked up from where he was currently perusing his fingernails.  “She didn’t know, Tony.  To her – you were just a slave.”

Tony frowned.  “I know that,” he said after a moment of thought.  “But, Jethro – I was your slave – and she didn’t respect that.  She – she made me fall so hard that last time that it frightened me.  I –“

Jethro nodded.  “I know, Tony.  And I wasn’t happy either.  But—“

“But?” Tony said.  “But nothing, Jethro.  She had no right to do that to me.”

“I know that, Tony – and I’m very sorry.”

Tony spun around at the sound of Abby’s voice.  She was standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand.  As he watched she reached up and wiped tears from her face. 

“I didn’t know – and, yes, I still had no right.”  She took a deep breath.  “I hope you can forgive me sometime, Tony.”

Tony was stunned as well as a bit embarrassed.  “H-how much—?”

“How much did I hear?” Abby asked as she walked into the room.  When Tony nodded, she sighed softly.  “Enough to know that you don’t trust me – or even like me very much.  And, for that, I’m very sorry, Tony.”

Tony looked away, unable to meet Abby’s eyes any longer.  She was a Master.  She was only doing what came naturally to her.  But then how could she be a slave as well?  He’d seen her interact with Jason on his level – not as a Master would.  Her entire demeanor confused the hell out of him so how could he reconcile her apology with who and what he knew her to be?

“There is something you need to know, Tony.”

“Not tonight, Jethro,” Abby interrupted.  “Please – tomorrow is soon enough.”

Jethro nodded, leaving Tony feeling like he was missing a huge piece of the puzzle.  Tomorrow – hopefully then he would understand just what was going on and why Jethro thought he should forgive Abby her transgressions.

~*~*~

 

Tony awoke to early morning sunlight streaming in his window.  He stretched slowly, relishing the feel of his muscles contracting and then loosening, leaving him feeling almost boneless.  Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.  This morning he was going running – outside.  Yesterday he’d let Abby talk him into staying in and using the gym equipment, but today he was going out.  Something had changed last night.  Something that told him that Abby no longer had any hold on him.  He was a free man and he was going to assert some authority over his own life, starting with leaving the house and going for a morning run.

As he ran, Tony thought about last evening and his time with Jethro.  While things hadn’t been entirely easy-going and comfortable, he thought he’d handled himself quite well –after his initial meltdown, of course.  In the end, Jethro had looked reluctant to leave him behind when he’d left for the night and Tony took some small pleasure in that fact.  He still didn’t know where Jethro had been staying since he’d sold his house and Jethro wouldn’t enlighten him, telling him only that he would show him ‘soon’.  For his part, Tony was both happy and sad to see Jethro leave: happy because it had been mildly exhausting to have so much intimate interaction at one time, and sad because the feelings he’d been keeping closeted inside were just starting to poke through the wall he’d built around his heart.  It both exhilarated and terrified him in turn.  But he’d have a chance to revisit those feelings today as Jethro and Abby had both said they were going somewhere later – again without elaborating.  Damn but he was tired of people trying to protect his sensitivities. 

A long run, a hot shower, and a cup of coffee later and Tony looked up to see Galen in the doorway of the kitchen.  When Galen saw Tony notice him he smiled in greeting. 

“Good morning, Tony,” he said easily as he rolled into the kitchen.  “Coffee smells wonderful.”

Tony watched as Galen poured himself a cup of coffee and turned, rolling easily by manipulating one wheel.  He lifted his cup.  “Would you mind setting this over there?” he asked, indicating the low end of the breakfast bar with his head.

“Omelet?” Galen asked as he opened the refrigerator.

“Huh?” Tony said, momentarily distracted by the sight of the wheelchair bound man rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Omelet?” Galen repeated, holding up some eggs.  “I’m making one for me and it’s just as easy to make two.”

Tony stood up quickly.  “I can do that—“

Galen spun around in his chair.  “Notice anything about this room, Tony?” he asked with a grin.  “Everything is wheelchair height and I like to cook.  So – omelet?”

Tony blushed and sat down again.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Thanks.  Where’s Abby?”

“Sleeping.  Today is going to be a big day so I thought I’d let her get as much rest as possible this morning.  Hell, this whole weekend is going to be huge.”

Tony lifted his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his coffee.  “So what’s so important about today?” he asked in a tone that he hoped came across as uninterested.

“Why – the party of course!” Galen said as he broke an egg into the omelet pan.

“P-party?” Tony stammered.  There was a party? And no one had warned him of it?  Jethro had said he’d see him today but he hadn’t said anything about a party.  Abby hadn’t either.  Damn it, were they trying to protect him again?  Did they think he would freak out if they warned him ahead of time?

Galen shook his head, smiling a little even as he tsked softly.  “They didn’t bother to mention what a special day it is today?  Well, damn.  I don’t suppose you’d want to forget we ever had this conversation, would you?”

Tony shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  I – I don’t much like surprises these days, especially not ‘big’ surprises.”

Galen bit his lip.  “Well, I guess I could –“  Just then the doorbell rang and Galen smiled.  “Saved by the bell,” he said with a grin.  “Would you mind getting that for me, Tony?”

Tony bit back a growl of frustration and got up from the breakfast bar.  He’d get his answer sooner or later – and for sanity’s sake, it had better be sooner.  Taking a deep breath, Tony opened the front door.

Jethro was standing on the front stoop.  Tony smiled.  Finally, he’d get some answers.

“Good morning, Jethro.  Come on in.  Galen is making breakfast.”

“Omelets?” Jethro asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

Tony chuckled.  “Yeah, he’s making omelets.”

Jethro grinned and stepped into the house, following Tony into the kitchen.  “Good morning, Galen,” Jethro greeted.  “I hear we’re having omelets this morning.”

Galen grinned.  “Only if you get me some more eggs.”

Jethro walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of eggs, setting them gently on the counter and then pouring himself a cup of coffee.  Jethro’s comfort in the kitchen as well as his ease the evening before told Tony that he was a frequent visitor to Abby and Galen’s house.  Thinking about that, Tony found that he was just a little bit jealous of their obviously caring relationships.

Tony only had a few minutes to ponder the situation before Jethro was setting his breakfast in front of him. 

“Eat up, Tony.  I can guarantee it will be wonderful.”

Tony dug in, moaning softly around the first bite of the fluffy eggs.  They really were wonderful.  “Thank you,” he said when he’d finished his breakfast. 

Galen smiled and waved away Jethro’s echo of thanks.  “My pleasure.  And now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me I’m going to go check on Abby.”

Tony watched Galen roll from the room.  Silence descended until Jethro finally cleared his throat softly.

“What’s on your mind?”

Tony turned to Jethro and shrugged.  “Not much.”

Jethro smiled.  “Liar.  You never were good at it so why do you bother?”

Tony bristled.  “Okay then,” he snapped.  “How about I just found out that there is a party we’re supposedly going to today?  How about that?”  Tony sighed loudly.  “Why is everyone still treating me like a slave?”

Jethro looked away for a moment before turning to face Tony once again.  “I’m sorry, Tony.  There is a party today that Abby, Galen, and I have been planning to attend.  I wasn’t sure how you’d handle the news of a party and I thought that you had enough to deal with yesterday – so I didn’t mention it.  It is, of course, entirely your decision as to whether or not you accompany us.”

Tony was already shaking his head.  “I’d really rather not.  I’m not sure I could—“

“The party is for Jason,” Jethro finished.

Jethro’s final words quieted Tony.  The party was for Jason.  Jason, the only person to treat him like a person instead of a slave.  He had been the only person who hadn’t seemed to care that he was a convict slave – who never held it against him.  He had been the one person who had helped Tony the most after his abduction by his father.  Of course he had to go to the party.

“Oh,” was all he managed.

“So you’ll go?” Jethro asked, apparently reading his acceptance into that one little word.

Tony nodded and then walked from the room.  He needed some alone time.

~*~*~

All Tony could think about on the way to Director Morrow’s house was not puking.  His stomach was in knots, his palms were sweaty, and his head felt like the top might pop off at any moment. 

He couldn’t do this.  He couldn’t blithely walk into Director Morrow’s house and “play nice” when the last time he’d been there he’d been on the end of Jethro’s leash.  He couldn’t do it.

But, suddenly he was standing at the door of the house, a half-step behind Jethro.  Abby and Galen were just behind them and Tony wished he had more time to get used to the idea of seeing Director Morrow and Jason again but the door was opening and Tony realized he was out of time.

“Come on in.”

Tony looked up at the unfamiliar voice.  The person at the door was an older man in uniform and Tony shook his head slightly.  He didn’t know this man and he’d been to Tom and Jason’s house on numerous occasions so what was he doing here now?  Tony knew he was trembling slightly but he couldn’t seem to help it.

“Simon,” Jethro said warmly.  “How is it to have the crew home again?”

“Very nice, sir.”  Simon stepped aside, holding the door open wide.  Once they were all inside, Simon led the way down the hallway, Abby and Galen just behind him, followed closely by Jethro and Tony.  Tony didn’t mind Jethro’s hand in his.  He was terrified.

Jethro seemed to sense his discomfort and gave Tony’s hand a strong squeeze just before they entered the living room.  Tony squeezed back and then let go of Jethro’s hand.  He was a free man and would walk into that room unaided – even if it killed him.

The sound of low rumbling voices startled Tony and he realized he’d stopped just outside the door and everyone else was in the room.  Taking a deep breath he stepped forward, standing in the doorway for a moment as he took in the sights before him.

As he looked around he saw Jason, almost at the same time the other man looked at him.  Something about Jason was different but Tony couldn’t put his finger on it and Jason didn’t give him much time as he walked over to where Tony was standing, stopping just shy of him, near enough to touch but clearly waiting for some sign that his affections would be welcome.  Someone had prepped him then.

It took only a couple of seconds for Tony to realize that it was okay that Jason knew about his phobias. Hell, he’d been there at the beginning of them and if there was anyone with whom he could be himself it should be Jason.  But Tony felt like he was worlds apart from the other man now and he didn’t know how Jason would perceive his new-found freedom.

Jason looked at Tony solemnly for a moment and then Tony watched as a smile formed on the other man’s face.  “It is very good to see you, Tony,” Jason said after a moment.  Jason lowered his gaze after speaking as if waiting for Tony to either acknowledge him or ignore him and walk away, thus cementing their new relationship one way or the other.  It was all up to Tony now.  He was the free man and Jason the slave – at least that’s what Tony surmised given the familiar chains.

“Jason,” Tony said softly, smiling when Jason lifted his gaze once again.  Tony was a little surprised to feel tears well up in his eyes and he blinked furiously, trying to banish them.  He knew Jason had noticed and was relieved when the other man didn’t call him on his embarrassing show of emotion.

Jason smiled and lifted his arms.  Before he knew what was happening, Tony found himself stepping forward.  Tony rested his head on Jason’s shoulder when he felt Jason wrap his arms around him, sighing softly.

“I’ve missed you, Tony,” Jason murmured against Tony’s hair.

“S-sorry,” Tony said equally as soft, burying his face against the smooth warm skin of Jason’s neck. 

Voices intruded on his thoughts and Tony suddenly realized where he was – and what he was doing, and pulled away from Jason, his face flaming.  Lowering his gaze, he stammered out an apology.

A slender hand in his brought Tony’s focus up to Jason’s face. 

“Come,” the other man mouthed silently, gently leading Tony out of the teeming room and down the hallway.

Tony followed, allowing Jason to lead him by the hand, the din of the living room fading as they walked.  Finally reaching what appeared to be their destination, Tony looked around.  He smiled when he realized they were in Jason’s room – what he had called his “quiet room”, the place he could escape to when he needed alone time (or when his master decided he needed alone time).  There was a cage in the room and Tony approached it with caution, walking around it slowly, his hand reaching out to touch it almost of its own volition.  When he turned from the cage, Jason was sitting on a bright blue slave pillow watching him.  A smile and a nod beckoned him closer and he sank onto a green pillow at Jason’s behest.

“There was a time not so long ago that you wouldn’t sit on a cushion when you were with me,” Jason said once Tony had settled.

Tony smiled and shrugged.  “There was a time I wouldn’t sit on one of these – in your presence or not.  I guess times have changed.”

Jason stared for a minute.  “For the better, Tony?”

Tony looked away from those piercing blue eyes.  “Why do you ask?”

Jason chuckled.  “Well, I guess I got my answer,” he said softly.  “So tell me, Tony.  Did you find any answers on your two year sabbatical?”

Tony shrugged.  “Maybe,” he said.  “Maybe not.”  Tony sighed.

“What is it?”

Tony shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I – did some things after I left.  Some very stupid things.”

“Like?” Jason asked.

Tony smiled.  “You’re too much.”

Jason laughed briefly and then sobered.  “I meant it, Tony.  I really missed you.”

Tony thought about it.  It was nice to be missed.  Jason had been the closest thing to a friend that he’d had while in chains and he wondered, not for the first time, whether or not they would have been friends had he met Jason under different circumstances.  Before slavery had been legalized?  Absolutely.  Jason was his kind of guy friend.  But after the whole slavery legalization?  If Tony had not been put into chains himself, Tony doubted he and Jason ever would have connected, even if they had been traveling in the same circles.  It was nearly impossible to meet slaves when you were a free man and most free men wouldn’t want to meet a slave anyway.  Slaves were nothing.

And then he’d been put into chains, seeing the slavery issue from the inside as it were, and he realized that slaves were people just the same as anyone else – except they wore chains either in punishment for a crime or because they had pledged themselves to someone.  The addition of chains didn’t automatically remove a person’s humanity – but prejudice did.

“I missed you too,” Tony said quietly.

Jason smiled.  “You probably didn’t even think of me.”

Tony blushed.  “I tried not to,” he admitted.  “But I’d find myself thinking of you at the oddest moments.  Sometimes it was as if we’d just talked or just been sunbathing on the back porch.  Other times it was as if I could barely remember your face.”  Tony fell silent for a moment.  “Those times were when I was most frightened for my sanity.”

Jason rolled onto his side, facing Tony.  “Talk to me.  Please, Tony.”

Tony sighed softly, tilting his face up to the ceiling.  “I don’t know where to begin,” he said after a minute.

“How about the day you left?”  Jason said.

Tony smiled sadly.  “Let’s start at the very beginning,” he sang softly.

“A very good place to start,” Jason added.

~*~*~

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.  Tony stopped talking and Jason sat up with a soft groan.

“Come!” Jason called out.

Tony ran his hands over his face and cleared his throat quietly.  He’d been talking for what seemed like hours and his throat was dry and scratchy.

The door opened slowly and Tony steeled himself.  A gentle hand on his arm startled him and he looked across at Jason who merely smiled. 

“You two have been MIA for two hours.  You going to join the party any time soon?”

Jason got to his feet with a smile.  “Master,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Tom’s shoulders.

Tony watched as Tom Morrow kissed Jason soundly and then slapped him on the ass.  Jason smiled and turned to Tony, who scrambled to his feet, nervously wiping his hands on the thighs of his blue jeans. 

“S-s-sorry, sir,” Tony stammered, unable to meet the director’s eyes.

“It’s not a problem, Tony,” Tom said easily.  “Are you two going to join us?”

 

Jason grinned and grabbed Tony’s hand.  It was all Tony could do not to pull away from him but he held still, almost holding his breath as he waited to see what the director would say.  “Come on, Tony.  This is my party – I suppose I should mingle a little.”

Tom chuckled and turned to leave.  “I’ll see you two out there then.  Tony – it’s good to see you.”

Tony looked up, startled, but the director had already turned and walked away.  Jason laughed.

“Don’t look so surprised, Tony.  Master really does like you.”

Tony let himself be pulled from the room after Jason had extracted a promise from him that they would continue their talk a little later.  They headed back down the hallway toward the living room and the voices they could hear.  It sounded to Tony like more people had arrived and he barely had time to wonder just how many people would be there when he and Jason arrived in the doorway.

“And here he is!” Tom said loudly, quieting the room quickly.  “Doctor Jason Morrow!”

The room erupted in wild applause and Tony took a step back as Jason dropped his hand and stepped into the room.

~*~*~

Doctor of Music, well, holy fuck.  In the nearly two years that Tony had been gone, Jason had up and finished his Doctorate.  Over the course of the next few hours, which Tony had spent mostly plastered to Jethro’s side, the crowd making him exceedingly nervous, Tony was able to piece together the story.

Jason had gotten his Master’s degree a few years earlier.  He’d talked about getting his Doctorate but in that time he’d become involved with Tom Morrow and had settled down into his slavery.  There were no schools in DC that offered the program he wanted – so he’d put his dream behind him. 

Two years previously, just after Jason had been chained, Tom had unearthed some information and realized that even if Jason had moved on, he’d never put the dream behind him.  Tom had broached the subject once and Jason had shrugged it off.  The next time he’d waited until Jason was bound at his feet, relaxed and settled into his slavery.  When Tom had asked about the Doctorate degree, Jason had stirred, almost coming up from his sub-space but Tom had soothed him again and they had talked.  Tom thought that Jason would be upset later but Jason had been more relieved than anything else.  After all, the program was hours away – not even within commuting distance.  He’d given up one dream for another and he was good with that.

Tom, however, had insisted on talking about it and Jason had to admit that he was a little disappointed that there was no local program.  His Master’s degree was important to him and going on to get his Doctorate was something he’d always wanted – until he’d met his own Master.  Sacrifice was something a slave did for his Master and he was okay with that.  He had everything he’d ever wanted.

“Except a Doctorate,” Tom had qualified.

“It really is okay, Master,” Jason had said.

But Tom was not to be dissuaded and he had talked Jason into applying for a program, his dream program, at Jacob’s School of Music located at Indiana University in Bloomfield.  Eleven and a half hours by car, or two hours by plane and another hour and a half by car.  Either way, Jason couldn’t see it working.  Three hundred dollars to fly, the cost of a rental car, plus room and board, or the time to drive.  There really was no way to make this work – not and keep his relationship with his Master and that was one thing that was non-negotiable.  He was in a permanent contract and he was not giving that up for a dream that he’d reconciled himself to never making happen a long time ago.

When he was accepted into the program he’d read the letter over and over again and then sat down to write his declination letter.  Tom had walked in while he was composing his letter and wiping tears from his face.  Tom had pulled Jason into his arms, tore the letter into pieces, and told him that their lives were about to change.

Tom had taken a leave of absence from NCIS and he and Jason had moved to Bloomfield, Indiana.  They had rented a house near campus and Jason had submerged himself in his studies, finishing the Doctorate program in eighteen months instead of the normal two years.  Tom hadn’t entirely removed himself from NCIS and they had commuted back and forth between Bloomfield and Washington every couple of months, but never when it would impact Jason’s studies or performances. 

For his part, Jason was very happy with the university’s stance on slavery and their policy on slaves attending there.  Tom had been prepared to argue the point and Jason was very glad he hadn’t needed to.  Jason’s professors were very supportive of his relationship with his master and he’d even noticed a couple of other slaves taking classes.  There were, of course the convicts who lived in stables on the campus and who took care of the lawns and did other tasks for the university.  Having other slaves attending classes, however, took some of the pressure off Jason and he had been able to immerse himself in his studies.

Tony realized that Jethro had been quite literal when he had asked Simon if he was happy to have Tom and Jason home.  They’d been gone for the better part of eighteen months.  That also explained Simon.  He’d apparently been hired as a caretaker for the house and had stayed on once the two men had returned home, becoming more of a manservant or butler than caretaker, although he would slip back into that role should Tom and Jason go on a world tour as they were threatening.

Tony got a chance later in the day to congratulate Jason on his accomplishment, calling him Dr. Morrow.  When that brought a light blush to Jason’s face, Tony laughed.  “You’d better get used to it,” Tony said seriously.  “A doctorate is nothing to sneeze at.  I’m very proud of you.”

Jason looked at Tony for a long minute, his countenance pondering and Tony thought Jason was probably trying to ascertain if he was being serious or was mocking him.  He really hoped he was projecting the sincerity that he felt and, when Jason thanked him quietly a moment later Tony surmised that he had been and was grateful.  Lately he hadn’t been able to tell just what kind of emotion he was projecting.  It was as if his ability to react appropriately had been somehow damaged and he didn’t know how to repair it, if it was really broken or if it was his own fatalistic musings.

Before Tony knew what was happening the house had filled up with scores of Tom and Jason’s friends and Tony was feeling claustrophobic.  He was heading out to the back porch for a breath of fresh air when he stumbled across Alton and Bryce.  They were just coming in the front door as Tony was passing through the hallway and Alton called out to Tony.

Tony stopped and turned toward his lawyer, waiting nervously as the two men walked toward him. 

Alton stopped and Bryce sank to his knees at his master’s side, his long hair swinging forward to conceal his face.  “Hello, Tony.  It’s good to see you.”

Tony nodded.  “Hello, Alton.”  He glanced at Bryce and then back to Alton again, a brow raised in question. 

Alton nodded and touched Bryce’s shoulder gently.  Bryce looked up at Alton, who nodded.  In a fluid motion, Bryce turned to look up at Tony.

Tony smiled.  “Hi, Bryce.”

Bryce smiled quickly and then dipped his chin.  “Hello, Tony.  It is good to see you again.”

“Thanks, you too.”  Tony turned to Alton.  “Are you going to be staying?”

Alton shook his head.  “No, I’ve another late meeting.  We’re just stopping by to wish Jason our best and then we have to leave.  We will be at the wedding tomorrow, however.”

Tony nodded.  “That’s good.  I’d like the chance to speak to Bryce for a little bit – if that’s okay with both of you.”

Alton shrugged.  “It’s okay with me.”

Tony looked at Bryce, who just smiled up at him from his place on the floor.  “Well then, until tomorrow.”  Tony watched as Alton and Bryce turned away.  “Oh!  One thing.”

Alton turned back, raising an eyebrow.  “What is it?”

“D-did you get a chance to look into—“

Alton nodded.  “Yes, I’m working on it.  I have a bit of convincing ahead of me, but I shouldn’t have any trouble closing the deal.”

Tony sighed softly, feeling the tension run out of him.  “Thank you.”  He hadn’t realized just how uptight he’d been until Alton’s proclamation that everything would work out.  Now, however, he just needed a breath of fresh air, a minute or three away from the crowds, and he’d be fine again.

By the time he found Jethro again, Tony’s skin was itching from being in such close quarters with so many people – masters, slaves, freemen, you name it, they were in attendance – for such a long time.  Since he’d been gone the only crowds he’d been in had been in clubs and then only for an hour or two.  By his reckoning they’d been at Director Morrow’s house for a little over five hours.  He’d been outside twice, standing on the porch first in the sunlight and then in the gathering gloom of twilight.  When it started thundering he went back into the house, determined this time to find Jethro and get the hell out of Dodge.  That alone took him another hour and three barely sidestepped panic attacks.

All it took was one look, Jethro’s eyes sweeping his form from head to toe.  “Had enough, Tony?”

Tony nodded his assent.  Had enough?  Hell yeah.  He’d had enough three hours ago.  Now it was all he could do to hold himself together and if they didn’t get out of there soon he was going to fall apart and he really didn’t want that to happen.

Jethro reached out and Tony shied away from his touch.  He saw the flash of hurt in Jethro’s eyes and Tony flushed in embarrassment, mumbling an apology before preceding Jethro out of the house, his arms wrapped around his torso, his body trembling slightly. 

The car ride was silent, Jethro seeming to understand that he needed time to relax after coming so close to falling apart at the party.  Tony’s nerves were shot and he was very grateful to Jethro for not expecting him to hold a conversation, and he closed his eyes, resting his head back and concentrating on breathing slowly and deeply. 

His nerves had settled somewhat by the time he felt the car come to a halt and the engine shut off.  Cracking open an eye, Tony saw that they were parked in front of Abby’s brownstone.  Tony sighed softly, pulling himself up into a sitting position from his profound slouch and reaching to open his door.

As Tony opened the door it was pulled from his grasp and he gasped in surprise as he looked up into Jethro’s eyes.

“Sorry, Tony.  Didn’t mean to startle you,” Jethro said as he stepped back, allowing Tony to alight from the car.

“N-not a problem,” Tony said quickly, flinching a little when the car door closed at his back.

Tony followed Jethro into Abby’s house, marveling briefly that Jethro actually had a key to the place.  The key was even on Jethro’s own key ring and not just a loaner for the occasion of rescuing Tony from the party.  As Tony stepped into the house, being very careful not to touch Jethro, he wondered how late Abby and Galen would be.  After all, Abby was pregnant and needed her rest.  He sighed softly.  It was still very early and he’d likely be alone in the house for another few hours.  As much as he couldn’t stand to have anyone touch him right now after the crush of the party, he didn’t want to hear the echoes of an empty house either.  Footsteps on slate or hardwood floors sounded so much lonelier when there was no one else around to break up the sound and he was so tired of feeling alone.  Once again he wondered if he’d been sane to give up Joey and the house on the Pacific.

“Can I get you something?” Jethro asked softly, startling Tony.

Tony turned quickly, taking a step backward, away from the man standing in front of him.  If Jethro noticed, he didn’t say anything and Tony was grateful for his silence.  “Pardon me?”

”A drink?  Anything?” Jethro asked again.  He smiled a little.  “I’m going to get something.”

“Y-you d-don’t need to babysit me,” Tony said.

Jethro snorted as he turned toward the kitchen.  “Not babysitting you, Tony.  Just keeping you company for a little while.  You don’t mind, do you?”

Tony shook his head.  “No, I d-don’t mind.”  He really didn’t mind at all, as long as Jethro didn’t want to talk about his little problem with crowds.

~*~*~*~

Tony was standing at the window in the living room, looking out into the gathering darkness.  The streetlights had come on and the headlights of the few cars that passed glowed brightly.  The kids that had been playing outside earlier were gone and Tony thought they were probably behind those dimly lit windows.  He saw Jethro approach and managed not to flinch as he took the cold bottle of beer from Jethro’s grasp.

“Thank you,” he murmured, lifting the bottle to his lips.  He took a long pull on the bottle and sighed.  “Sorry I freaked out back there,” he said after a minute.

Jethro shrugged and Tony turned to face him.  “You were fine, Tony.  No one noticed anything.”

 

“Except you?”

Jethro smiled a little and took a drink.  “Yeah, except me.  I think you did very well back there.”

Tony didn’t agree with what Jethro said but he was grateful that Jethro was trying to make him feel better about what had happened.  If he was ever going to learn to live in society, he would have to learn to handle people again.  He’d flitted about for over a year, traveling from one city to another, never feeling comfortable anywhere.  And then he’d shunned society, settling on the beach and interacting with only a few people – and he’d learned to live in his own skin again.  Being thrust back into a populated area was stressing his ability to cope.

The jangle of chains greeted him at every turn, the sound grating on his nerves.  He wasn’t comfortable in public situations where convict slaves were the norm.  Going back out west and hiding out in the very comfortable bungalow on the beach was sounding better and better every day.

Jethro stayed –and Tony found it to be not as imposing as he’d imagined.  They talked, even about non-slave things, and Tony relaxed.  By the time Abby and Galen got home, Tony had switched to water and Jethro was asked to spend the night.  For just a moment, Tony panicked, wondering about sleeping arrangements and spare bedrooms.  But then Abby reminded him that they were living in what were essentially two houses and they had plenty of room for everyone.

~*~*~

When Tony got back from his early morning run the next day, the first thing he noticed was the absence of Jethro’s car.  He stumbled to a stop, looking up and down the street, wondering for just a moment if Jethro had moved the car, or if he had misremembered where Jethro had parked it.  It was a fleeting thought, but it left Tony feeling silly and he shrugged it off as he entered the house.

“Good morning!” Abby greeted him warmly as he walked in to the kitchen.  “You have a good run?” she asked as she set a large glass of orange juice in front of him.

Tony smiled as he sat at the breakfast bar.  “Yeah – it’s great out there,” he said, sounding as winded as he felt.  “So what are you doing cooking breakfast on your wedding day?” he asked with a smile.

Abby shrugged.  “Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted with a small smile. 

“Nervous?”

Abby shook her head.  “Not really,” she said after a moment.  “Excited, sure.  But nervous?  No.”

Tony nodded.   “Good.  I’m –“ He hesitated, grateful when Abby didn’t interrupt.  “I’m really happy for you and Galen.”

Abby looked at him and then turned back to the stove.  “Thanks, Tony.”  Her voice was strained and Tony realized that his discomfort hadn’t been as circumspect as he’d hoped.  She had obviously picked up on it but he couldn’t apologize.  His trust had been broken and it would take him a long time to get over it.  If he ever trusted Abby again, it would be a long time coming.  She had a lot of work to do to prove herself to him.

As Tony was eating his breakfast, Galen came into the room.  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, giving Abby a kiss.  He then turned to Tony.  “Good morning, Tony.”

“Good morning,” Tony said around a mouthful of French toast.  “Gorgeous day out there.”

Galen grinned.  “Good, because the ceremony is outside.  We were really hoping we wouldn’t have to intrude on Tom and Jason’s hospitality anymore by moving everything inside.”

Tony looked up over the rim of his coffee cup.  He’d forgotten that the wedding was going to be held at Director Morrow’s house.  His stomach knotted.  The day before had been such a disaster.  He didn’t think he could handle the crowds again.

“—small,” Abby was saying when Tony turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.  He must have looked confused because she smiled and repeated her previous statement.  “I said that the wedding is going to be small.  There won’t be the crush of people that there was last night for Jason’s party.  It’s just close friends.”

“And family?” Tony asked.

Abby looked away.  “No – no family.”

Tony thought he remembered Abby having family in Louisiana – so why wouldn’t they be attending the wedding?  He didn’t remember any family visiting Galen after he was injured so he had assumed Galen didn’t have any family.

Breakfast was finished in an awkward silence and Tony excused himself quickly.  Heading off to take a shower he cursed himself for putting his foot in his mouth and ruining the morning.  There were still three hours before the wedding and Tony only hoped he could keep from saying anything else overly stupid in that time.

~*~*~

The weather was beautiful for the wedding: the sun shining brightly, the temperature moderate.  Abby was resplendent in a royal blue gown, gathered high under her breasts and falling in a cascade of satin to her ankles.  Her feet were bare.  Her black hair hung straight to her shoulders and she wore no other adornment except for those inked into her skin.

The groom wore white: white slacks, shoes, and a poet’s shirt, the long belled sleeves pushed up around his elbows, the front of the shirt open to the third button.  His auburn hair was pulled back into a neat queue, the end tied with a simple black leather thong.  He had stared at Abby as she walked forward, along the aisle created on the lawn, her dress swaying with each careful step, her eyes solely focused on her intended. 

Tony watched as Galen stared at Abby, his stillness telegraphing his nervousness to Tony as loudly as if he were shouting it to the brilliant blue skies.  But the longer he looked, the less sure Tony was of that assumption.  Was Galen nervous or merely anticipatory?  He got his answer when Abby finally got to his chair and Galen smiled up at her.  Anticipatory – definitely anticipatory.

The ceremony was simple and Tony thought it surprisingly beautiful as well, both Abby and Galen having written their own vows.  The love on their faces was real and palpable as they spoke the words to each other.  And then they were being pronounced man and wife and Tony waited for them to turn to greet the congregation before heading back down the aisle and toward the huge tent that had been set up on the lawn for the reception.  Instead, Abby bent forward, placed a light kiss on Galen’s lips and then knelt at his feet, holding on to one arm of his chair for balance as she went to her knees, bowing her head gracefully.

Galen cupped the back of Abby’s head gently, bending forward and placing a light kiss on her hair before looking up again, his gaze roaming over the assemblage.  To Tony’s surprise, Tom Morrow got to his feet and approached the pair, Jason walking just behind him, his delicate silver chains jangling softly.

Tony had noted Jason’s full set of chains earlier and had wondered about it, but now, seeing him approaching where Abby and Galen waited, Tony thought he might just be beginning to understand the symbolism of those chains at this particular ceremony.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Tom stopped beside Galen’s chair and Jason knelt at his side, head bowed, hands lying lightly on his thighs, his back straight.  As Tom looked down at Galen, Tony saw Galen nod and reach up.  Tom placed a long slim box in his hands and then turned to look at the congregation once again.  That was when Alton stood, followed by Bryce. 

The pair approached the group already assembled under the rose-covered arbor.  Tom asked Galen if he was willing to take Abby as his submissive.  Galen answered in the affirmative.  Tom then turned to Abby and asked her if she was willing to give her submission to Galen.  Abby looked up and nodded as she answered in the affirmative.

Alton stepped forward, producing contracts, which Abby and Galen signed, followed by Tom Morrow and Alton Harrison.

Tony turned to Jethro to see him smiling warmly.  “You knew?”

Jethro nodded.  “I suspected.  They kept it a secret.”

“And Abby is – what?  I thought she was a switch.”  Tony was very confused by this development.

Jethro nodded.  “She is – was.  Abby was very upset at the mistakes she’d made as a Master and she decided she needed to live as a slave before she could ever think of Mastering anyone again.”

Tony frowned.  “So, is this something real – or just an experiment?”

Jethro gestured toward the arbor again.  “Oh, it’s real.”

Galen was fastening an elaborate collar around Abby’s neck.  As Tony watched, another man approached and soldered the metal closed as Galen held his wife’s hair out of the way.  Tony was stunned.  Soldered closed.  This was definitely serious.

Tony watched as Galen helped Abby to her feet, the others under the arbor stepping back out of the way.  When she was standing again, she bent forward and Galen kissed her.

~*~*~

Later Tony found himself relaxing on a chaise on the back porch of Tom’s house, watching the festivities that had spread out from the tent to cover most of the back yard.  He’d been watching Abby and Galen and, while Abby was constantly at Galen’s side, she didn’t kneel (probably due to her advanced pregnancy) or pay him any more obeisance than he normally saw.  As he contemplated the turn of events, Jason joined him, sinking down onto the chair next to the one Tony was sitting on.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Jason commented easily as he lay back on the chaise.

Tony shrugged.  “I guess.”  He sighed.  “I guess I was just surprised by Abby accepting Galen’s collar today,” he admitted after a minute.

Jason nodded.  “Yeah – thought that might be it,” he said.

The pair sat in companionable silence for a while.

“She was very upset with herself, Tony – after you left.”

Tony turned his head to look at Jason.  Abby upset – huh.  He never would have believed it – until today.  Maybe there was hope for her after all.  Only time would tell.

~*~*~

Abby and Galen were staying in a hotel for their wedding night.  They had postponed a honeymoon until after the babies were born on Abby’s physician’s orders.  She was simply too close to delivery to risk traveling, especially since she was carrying twins.

That meant that Tony had the house to himself for the night.  It also meant that he wanted to be out of the house before they got back.  Newlyweds – no way was he going to intrude on that.  Tony rattled around the big house for a good part of the evening, wandering in and out of rooms that had been modified for wheelchair access.  The changes were subtle but, knowing what to look for had its advantages – as was knowing what the rooms had looked like before.  For instance, all of the doorways had been widened.  It was subtle and, unless you’d been in the house before and seen its narrow hallways and doors, you wouldn’t know anything had changed.  But it had.  Gone were the dark little rooms and corridors and, in their place, were open and airy spaces.  The house had been thoroughly modernized.  Tony decided that he liked it.

That night he slept the sleep of the thoroughly exhausted and was up with the birds, donning his running clothes and heading out into the early morning.  By the time he got back, his legs felt like rubber and he realized that he’d run much farther than usual today, lost as he’d been in his thoughts. 

As much as he hadn’t wanted to stay with Abby and Galen originally, the house had been convenient and he’d come to realize that things really had changed in DC.  Now, however, it was time to move on and he had no clue where he was to go or what he’d do. 

His bag was packed and he was just putting the finishing touches on a thank you note for Galen and Abby when the doorbell rang.  Closing his eyes, Tony gripped the edge of the kitchen counter.  Not now – he didn’t need to be interrupted or have to make excuses to anyone for the absence of Galen and Abby.  Maybe if he just didn’t answer –

The doorbell rang again and Tony cursed quietly.  Whoever was out there wasn’t giving up easily and Tony realized he was going to have to answer the door and confront them.  As Tony pushed away from the counter, the doorbell rang again and Tony swore, more vehemently this time.  He strode to the door and, taking a breath, opened it.

“Hey, Tony.  Thought I’d stop by and see – You’re leaving.”

Tony looked down at the toes of his sneakers, scuffing his foot on the floor for just a second before catching himself and willing his foot to stop moving.  His eyes flicked to where his bag lay beside the door before he raised his gaze.

“J-Jethro,” he said softly.  “I – “ He didn’t know what to say, how to explain that he simply couldn’t be there when Abby and Galen came back.  He’d overstayed his welcome already and it would be easier if he just moved on.

“I thought I’d take you out to breakfast today and maybe we could spend some time together – but it looks like you’re leaving.”

Tony blushed.  “I’m – damn,” he said softly.  “I’m not really – leaving, that is.  I just –“ He sighed.  “I can’t stay here any longer.”

Jethro frowned.  “Because of Abby and Galen’s marriage – or is it something more?”

Tony shrugged.  “The marriage, of course, because I don’t want to intrude.  And – well, I’ve stayed longer than I should have in any case.  It’s time for me to move on.”

Jethro swallowed a couple of times and Tony thought he looked almost pained.  “You – you’re leaving then?  Where will you go?”

Tony stared openly at Jethro for a moment before looking away.  That couldn’t be hurt he’d seen in those too bright eyes.  It couldn’t mean that Jethro actually cared if he stayed or left.  Could it?

“Tony,” Jethro said, breaking into Tony’s thoughts.  “I –“

Tony waited and watched Jethro fidget slightly. 

“I – damn, I can’t say this on the front steps, Tony.  Can I come in?”

Tony blinked in surprise and took a step back, giving Jethro room to slip inside and close the door.  He watched as Jethro wiped his hands on his blue jeans, a gesture that Tony used when he was nervous.  But Jethro?  What did he have to be nervous about?

After a moment, Jethro lifted his head and visibly steeled himself.  “Tony,” he began, his voice strong and sure, “I don’t want you to go.”

Tony stared.  Surely he must have heard wrong.  What would it matter if Tony left?

“Please, Tony.  I know I have no right to ask – but I’ve missed you terribly and I don’t want you to leave.”  Jethro looked away again and Tony felt a little sorry for the man, but sympathy wasn’t a reason to stay on in DC, not after everything else that had happened here.  The city held too many ghosts for him to ever settle in the area.  No – he needed to go.  He needed to find somewhere that felt safe – like Imperial Beach had.  Safe, calming, few slaves, someone to love, someone to love him.  Life was too damned short to spend it alone and afraid of every shadow.

“I can’t stay here, Jethro.  Too much has happened for me ever to call DC home.”  Tony turned away, not wanting to see the emotion in Jethro’s eyes but the other man’s soft voice called to him and he turned back.

“I can’t stay either” Jethro said. 

Tony frowned.  “I don’t –“ He thought for a moment.  “Wait – you sold your house, took the boat out of the basement.  You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Jethro rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked away.  “Yeah, Tony.  I’m leaving.”

Tony stared at the other man, seeing his discomfort, his embarrassment, and suddenly he knew.  “You weren’t going to wait for me.  You gave up on me, didn’t you?”

Jethro stilled and his shoulders slumped.  Then he turned to face Tony again and Tony thought that Jethro looked five years older than he had just a moment ago. 

Jethro sighed.  “I was going to wait until Labor Day.  That was my limit.”  As he spoke, he squared his shoulders and looked Tony in the eye.  “I’ve waited, Tony.  I’ve waited for nearly two years and I just can’t do it any more.  Maybe getting pushed into retirement was my wake-up call.  Any way you look at it, I was going to be gone in just a few more weeks.”

Tony nodded slowly.  He got it, he really did.  But knowing that Jethro was just going to leave was nearly as difficult as sitting in front of Jethro’s house and seeing a stranger walk out the front door yelling for his dad.  It hit him like a punch to the gut and he was having trouble breathing calmly.

“S-so where does all this leave us?” Tony asked quietly.

Jethro stepped forward, pressing Tony back a step.  “Us, Tony?  Is there an us?”

Tony shrugged and bit his lip as he looked away from Jethro’s eyes.

Jethro smiled slowly and tilted his head.  “Why don’t you follow me and I’ll show you something?”

Tony hesitated for just a minute.  And then Jethro asked him again and Tony found himself nodding as he picked up his bag and followed Jethro out the door, closing it behind him with a resounding bang.

~*~*~

Tony followed Jethro, his Mustang growling as he zigged and zagged behind the obvious rental car Jethro was currently abusing.  He realized part-way through the drive that Jethro had started shedding his possessions as he was driving a rental and that thought scared Tony.  Jethro was really leaving – which left him where exactly?

They crossed the river and continued for a few more minutes before pulling into an unpaved drive.  The sign said Columbia Island Marina and Tony had to smile.  This must be where Jethro had put the boat into the water.  He was glad he was going to get to see it finished after seeing the loving care Jethro had put into it.

He eased the Mustang down the rutted road, carefully maneuvering past the potholes, and parked in a space right next to Jethro’s rental car.  He put the top up on the car, raised the windows, and then stepped from the vehicle.  Turning, Tony saw Jethro leaning against his car, smirking at him.

“No one here is going to steal from you,” Jethro said as he pushed away from the car.

Tony blushed.  The ‘stang was his baby – and held everything he currently owned apart from what was still in storage in Alexandria.  He wasn’t taking any chances – but he also didn’t want to appear paranoid.  God, it was awful, second-guessing himself at every turn.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, scuffing the toe of his sneaker in the dirt.

Tony heard Jethro curse softly and cringed, almost expecting a head-slap or to be shoved to his knees in the dirt at Jethro’s feet.  But he wasn’t a slave anymore.  That thought alone kept Tony standing and made him lift his chin, daring to glance at Jethro after just a moment of indecision.

Jethro was watching him and Tony thought he saw pity in his eyes for just a moment but Jethro merely smiled and gestured with his head.  “Come on then.”

Tony followed Jethro down a pier, looking left and right at the boats moored there and watching them get bigger and more elaborate with each passing slip.  Finally, they stopped and Tony looked around to see Jethro stepping onto a beautiful boat, the varnished wood gleaming richly in the sunlight.  He stepped forward, glancing down as he reached the boat, and stumbled to a stop.  Freedom was emblazoned in beautiful script across the stern.

When Tony finally looked up, Jethro was waiting on the deck of the boat, his hands on his hips, watching him carefully.  Tony smiled shyly.  “I – I like the name,” he said.

Jethro grinned and reached out a hand.  Tony grasped it, feeling Jethro’s grip tighten as he tugged, helping Tony onto the boat.  “I’m glad, Tony.  I named it for you.”

 

Tony blushed and looked away.  What did it mean that Jethro had named his boat for Tony?  And to name it Freedom?  The implication took his breath away.

“Want to see more?”

Tony turned to find Jethro looking at him thoughtfully and he nodded.  “Sure,” he said with more assurance than he felt at the moment.  “I’d love to see more.”

The tour was quick.  After all, a boat that could be built in a basement wasn’t going to be so big as to need a map to get around on or in.  It might be small, but it definitely didn’t feel cramped.  Cozy was more like it.  The cabin was sparsely furnished but elegantly appointed in the same rich wooden tones that graced the deck and trim.  The walls were covered in cabinets and everything had its place – so as not to bounce around in a storm, Jethro said when asked about the furnishings.  The bed was large and took up one side of the cabin; the other side was a kitchen and eating area complete with a small table and chairs.  A small desk was built into one wall and dropped down when needed.  Two chairs flanked the area, their legs bolted to the floor.  When Jethro opened the cupboard just above the table, Tony saw two fluffy cushions for the chairs.  ‘A place for everything and everything in its place’ came to mind and Tony smiled.

“What?” Jethro asked.

Tony grinned.  “Just thinking that if I looked up anal in the dictionary I’d find a picture of you and this boat there,” Tony quipped.

Jethro chuckled, a low sexy sound that made Tony shiver.  “Anal, huh?  Could be.”

Tony blushed when he finally caught the double entendre and he looked away.  Jethro couldn’t mean anything by his carelessly tossed out words.  Tony chided himself for his thoughts.  Who would want a used up ex-slave?  And why should that thought bother him?  Damn, he was getting in over his head here.  He’d just wanted to see Jethro again, to see if there was anything between them.  But there was no way he was going to push himself on the man.  It had become obvious over the past few days that Jethro harbored no romantic feelings for him.  And, Tony thought that fact should have been more comforting than it was. 

“Want a beer?”

Tony blinked in confusion.  There were too many twists and turns to the conversation and he was having trouble keeping up – yet another after-effect of his slavery.  “Beer?” he asked dumbly. “S-sure.”

Jethro popped the caps on two beers and motioned Tony up the steps.  The sun was bright as it reflected off the water and Tony pulled on his sunglasses.  The two men sat and sipped at their bottled beer in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“What are your plans, Tony – if you don’t mind me asking?” Jethro said suddenly, startling Tony so that he choked on a mouthful of his beer.

Tony coughed a couple of times, tears filling his eyes.  When he could breathe again, he looked at Jethro.  The other man was looking decidedly uncomfortable.  “Sorry, Tony,” he mumbled, turning the beer bottle in his hands.

“I – I d-don’t have any plans,” Tony stuttered.  “I – “ He stopped and took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. 

Jethro sighed.  “Why did you come back?”

Tony gaped, his stomach feeling like it had dropped into an endless black pit.  He couldn’t catch his breath and he could feel his thoughts start to gray out.  He barely had a moment to think that this was what it felt like to pass out when Jethro was there beside him, a strong hand on the back of his neck, pressing his head down between his knees.

“Breathe for me, Tony.  Just like that.  Take it easy now.”

The feeling of Jethro’s thigh pressed against his and his strong hand cupping the back of Tony’s neck helped Tony to ground himself again.  After a minute Tony sat up, Jethro’s hand falling away.

Tony looked out over the water.  “M-maybe this was a b-big mistake,” he said softly.  “I sh—“

“Don’t say it, Tony,” Jethro interrupted gently.  “Don’t walk away now.  Please.  I need—“ Jethro hesitated and Tony leaned forward.

Tony licked his lips, suddenly in need of something more to drink.  There was no time; it was now or never.  “What, Jethro?  What do you need?”  Tony held his breath.  He wanted to hear Jethro say it.  He wanted Jethro to tell him that he needed him. 

Jethro shook his head.  “It’s not about what I want, Tony.  It’s not about me.  It never was.”

Tony bit back a sigh of frustration.  “Jethro,” he said softly, “please.  I – I need to hear it.”

Jethro stared into Tony’s eyes for a moment and Tony waited.  After a minute, Jethro sighed.  “I need you, Tony.  I w—“ He took a deep breath and reached out to Tony, capturing Tony’s hands in his.  “Tony, I want you to stay.  Please.”

Tony frowned.  For some reason hearing those words wasn’t at all like he’d imagined it would be.  No light bulb of understanding illuminated his murky thoughts.  No new knowledge sprang into being at the sound.  “Why?” he heard himself asking before he could censor his speech.

Jethro just shook his head and Tony thought he heard a soft snort.  “I can’t put my wants ahead of your needs, Tony.  If you have to ask the question, maybe you’re not really ready to hear the answer.”  Jethro let Tony’s hands drop and pushed to his feet.

“Wait!” Tony said quickly, stumbling to his feet on unsteady legs.  “I – I need to hear it, Jethro.  What is it?  Please,” he pleaded softly, “what do you need?”

Jethro pressed his lips together for a moment, shaking his head slowly. 

“Please,” Tony repeated.

Jethro sighed and turned, looking out over the water for a moment.  Tony saw the second Jethro’s shoulders slumped, the second he made up his mind to accede to Tony’s demand.  Turning back to face Tony, Jethro nodded once as if to say, ‘you asked for it’.

“You, Tony.  I need you – in my life, in my bed, in my arms.”  Jethro scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking infinitely embarrassed to be baring his soul.  “I’m leaving here because I can’t get you out of my head – or my heart.  I can’t stay here, knowing what I don’t have – you.”  Jethro held up a hand as Tony opened his mouth to speak.  “No – don’t say it.  Don’t you think I already know?” Jethro demanded harshly.  “Don’t you think it doesn’t eat at me every single day that the only reason I had you at all was because I fucking owned you?”  Jethro barked out a short, harsh laugh.  Jethro’s voice became softer.  “Don’t you think I knew that I’d never have had the pleasure of you living with me, sleeping with me, eating with me, if you hadn’t been convicted of crimes you didn’t commit?  Tony,” he continued softly, “don’t you think I knew that you were so far out of my league I never would have stood a chance?”  Jethro’s voice broke slightly and he cleared his throat as he turned away, physically shutting Tony out as he faced out over the water.  “M-maybe you should just go,” Jethro said after a moment, his voice rough with emotion.

Tony steeled himself and stepped forward, laying his hand on Jethro’s bicep.  “Maybe I don’t want to.”

~*~*~

It took another six weeks before they were ready to set sail.  Not wanting the Mustang to collect dust in the storage unit, Tony had seen her loaded onto a carrier and headed west.  He’d also gone through everything in the storage unit, sending a good deal of it to the local Goodwill, shipping the remainder to his next port of call – his house in the Caribbean.  If his father had done one thing right it was to invest in property. The house on St. Thomas was just one that Tony had kept.  It had been his favorite vacation spot as a little boy and he hadn’t been back since his father had told him he had disowned him at twelve.  The lie had scarred Tony and he hadn’t been able to go to the house once he’d been freed.  He had only learned of his father’s lie upon the old man’s death, when he’d inherited everything – or, rather, Jethro had, as his owner.  

And now they were headed to that house – together.  It frightened Tony to think about what he was doing, what he was risking.  He knew he was still fragile and he’d given Jethro the means to destroy him, handed it to him on a gilt platter complete with instructions on what would hurt him the most.  But he’d done it; he’d put his affairs in order, given away his things, shipped his car to Joey, and stepped on Jethro’s boat, a light duffle thrown over one shoulder.

“Hi honey!  I’m home!” he’d quipped, blushing furiously when Jethro had raised one brow, a slow smile blossoming on his lips.  “S-sorry,” Tony had mumbled.

Jethro chuckled.  “Nothing to be sorry for, Tony.  Welcome aboard.  Are you ready to set sail?”

Tony had nodded and his lessons in sailing had begun.  Sure he’d been on sailboats before.  Hell, he’d grown up on Long Island for god’s sake.  Everyone sailed, especially on the eastern end of the island.  And his father had been no exception, even going so far as to send a young Tony for sailing lessons.  But that was a lifetime ago and Tony felt like a novice on their first day out – and on his second.  By the third day he was beginning to anticipate the needs of the boat and was comfortable working at Jethro’s side.

The good weather held and they pulled into the private slip two weeks later, having taken their time, not pushing it and getting to know each other all over again.  Jethro had been sleeping up on deck for the first few nights until Tony asked him to share the bed with him.  After that Jethro slept with Tony and they woke wrapped around each other every morning.  But all they were doing was sleeping.  Tony both wanted and didn’t want to take their relationship further.  He’d fantasized about Jethro way back when until Mike had called him on it.  After that, he had counted Jethro as a friend – until Tony’s arrest and conviction.  His trust had been shattered and Tony didn’t even like Jethro at that point.  But he’d grown to crave the other man’s touch again, when he was nothing more than a thing, a possession, and no one even looked at him as a person any more.  He’d yearned then for Jethro to hold him, to show him that he was more than a dog on a leash.  And then he’d been kidnapped and brutalized and he’d retreated into a shell so fragile that he was afraid for anyone to touch him.  He’d left Jethro when he was still leery of anyone coming close and had never had the chance to explore his emerging feelings for the other man.

And now they were on St. Thomas in a villa overlooking the ocean and Tony was determined to see if his feelings for Jethro were real, if they could actually forge a relationship.

“Wow, Tony,” Jethro said, coming up behind Tony and making him jump a little.  Jethro ignored Tony’s flinch and Tony was grateful.  “Nice place.”

Tony watched as Jethro walked around, seeming almost afraid to touch anything, looking decidedly uncomfortable surrounded by the opulence that was Michael DiNozzo’s decorating trademark.  Tony, determined to put Jethro at ease, dropped his bag to the ground and stretched.  “So, want the grand tour?” he asked easily.

Jethro sighed softly and nodded.  The sigh bit through Tony and he silently willed Jethro not to give up on this so soon. 

Reaching out, Tony took Jethro’s hand.  “Come on.  You’ll never believe this place.  Old dad really thought things could make up for feelings.”  Tony started walking, pulling Jethro behind him.  “We’ll have to go through everything and pare it down.  It’s really too ostentatious for my liking.”  Tony paused, giving Jethro a look and then smiling.  “That is, unless you like ostentatious,” he said with a grin.

Jethro snorted.  “No – I think we can find a few things to get rid of.”

Tony chuckled.  “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he said, bumping Jethro’s hip with his own.

~*~*~

Days passed and became weeks.  Tony woke each morning wrapped in Jethro’s arms and then slipped from the bed silently, careful not to wake his bed partner.  As much as he thought he was ready to take their relationship to the next level he froze every time Jethro reached for him, sometimes taking a step backward, always flinching as if expecting to be hurt.  The wounded look that blossomed in Jethro’s eyes each time tore at Tony’s heart and he found himself trying to make sure that he wasn’t put in that position.  As much as he wanted to be closer to Jethro, he couldn’t seem to relax enough to actually make it happen.

Tony was coming back from his morning run when he spied someone on the beach in front of the villa.  Slowing to a walk, he approached where Jethro sat at the water’s edge.  Jethro didn’t look up as Tony sat on the sand beside him, bumping him with his shoulder gently.

Jethro shifted away slightly and sighed.

“Jethro?” Tony said carefully.

“What are we doing here, Tony?” Jethro asked wearily, looking out over the water.

Tony flushed.  Jethro didn’t have to say anything else.  Tony knew exactly what he was referring to.  Hell, it was all that Tony could think of.

“I –“ Tony’s voice broke and he couldn’t finish.

“You don’t trust me, Tony, and if you don’t trust me this – whatever this is – will never work.”

Tony was stunned.  Jethro didn’t think he trusted him.  With a rueful shake of his head Tony silently berated himself.  How could Jethro possibly think he trusted him when Tony wasn’t sure he trusted himself?  He snuck out of their bed each morning, praying he wouldn’t wake Jethro.  And why was that?  He’d had no trouble fucking his way across the United States.  What was it about Jethro that made him push himself away when he so desperately wanted to make love to him?

Suddenly Tony realized that it wasn’t the man sitting so dejectedly at his side that was holding him back, but the ghosts of his memory.  His body might be aching for Jethro on some level, but his subconscious mind told him that he was nothing but property to him, that he’d never be anything more than a slave.  He was rebelling against the fetters that still bound him deep in his subconscious mind and, until he could break those chains, he would never be able to move his relationship ahead with Jethro.  Tony realized that he was going to lose Jethro before he really ever had him if he didn’t get past these feelings.

Tony sighed softly.  He’d left his therapist behind in Washington, their relationship broken off long before he’d really recovered from his ordeal but he’d needed to get away.  He couldn’t regret leaving, not when he’d finally learned to live with himself again.  Sure he’d made a few mistakes along the way – okay, more than a few – but he’d grown and he could finally look at himself in the mirror again.  That alone was worth the heartache involved.

Jethro had stilled beside him and Tony knew that whatever he said in the next few minutes would shape the rest of his life – for better or worse.  He thought carefully.

“I trust you with my life, Jethro,” Tony began softly.  “I always did.  The chains didn’t change that, not really.  I still trusted you to keep me safe.”

Jethro snorted softly beside him.  “Did a great job with that, didn’t I?” Jethro said, derision and self-loathing dripping from his clipped words.

“You tried,” Tony said.  “That was more than anyone else was willing to do.  And, while I may have resented the hell out of you at the time, I always knew it was you that kept me from being put up for sale – from having to endure being the slave that my father wanted me to be.  You saved me, Jethro.  I couldn’t have lived like that for twenty years – not even for two.”  Tony sighed.  “This isn’t going to be easy – but I came back for you because I wanted to be with you.  I wanted to see if my feelings for you were real or if I was just projecting my helplessness onto you.”

“And?” Jethro asked, still not looking at Tony. 

Tony saw that Jethro’s hands were clasped together, his knuckles white with tension and he smiled ruefully.  “And, I think I love you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs – but I’m afraid of fucking things up.”  Jethro turned to look at him and it was Tony’s turn to look out over the water.  “I – haven’t exactly been a saint since I left Washington,” Tony said slowly.  “I’ve make some colossal mistakes – done some monumentally stupid things – but I don’t want to make another one.”  Tony turned to see Jethro staring at him solemnly and he smiled.  “I want us to be together, Jethro.”  Tony took a deep breath.  “Will you take me to bed?”

Jethro stared at Tony for another minute.  “Are you sure, Tony?”

Tony chuckled.  “Now who’s stalling?” he teased as he stood and brushed sand from the seat of his pants.  Reaching out a hand, he pulled Jethro to his feet and then tugged on Jethro’s hand until their bodies were pressed together.  “Kiss me,” he breathed against Jethro’s lips.

The kiss was tender, the two men taking their time.  Tony reached up and cupped the back of Jethro’s head, his fingers threading through his silver hair.  “More,” he said softly as he pulled back, looking into Jethro’s dark blue eyes.  “Please.”

Jethro grinned and took Tony’s lips in another kiss, this one searing in its intensity.  Their teeth clicked together and their tongues warred for dominion before the two men pulled apart.  They were both breathing hard and Tony’s fingers entwined with Jethro’s easily as they turned and headed for the house.

“Don’t want sand in any crevices, Jethro?” he teased as Jethro followed eagerly. 

Jethro chuckled and bumped against Tony.  “Want our first time to be more comfortable that that, Tony,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

“First time,” Tony murmured, a smile on his face. 

Jethro grinned.

~*~*~

 

A gentle breeze caressed Tony’s skin in direct counterpoint to Jethro’s skilled fingers.  The calluses on the tips of his fingers scratched over Tony’s sensitive skin, making Tony arch into his touch.  Jethro’s lips followed his fingers, lapping and suckling each and every hyper-sensitive spot on Tony’s body until Tony was nothing more than a writhing, aching mess. 

Tony begged, he pleaded, he promised eternal gratitude and love if Jethro would just get on with it all ready.  And still Jethro took his sweet time, driving Tony crazy with lust before he gently opened Tony’s body with his fingers.  Only when Tony was hovering on the edge of climax did Jethro slide inside him.  Settling against Tony’s back, Jethro lay perfectly still.  Tony gasped as he tried to tilt his hips, trying to drive Jethro into doing something rash – oh, like – moving!  As Tony cursed softly, Jethro chuckled and began to thrust lazily – maddeningly slow, his cock dragging over Tony’s prostate on nearly every thrust. 

Tony whined, wanting – needing to move.  But Jethro held him down, held him still, made him take the slow fucking he was giving him.  And Tony loved it.  Being dominated by Jethro was such a turn on for him and it surprised him a little.  Tony was, however, not above admitting to his submissive nature.  With Jethro, however, he had thought that it would take a while for him to be able to trust Jethro not to abuse that trust.  In his heart he knew that Jethro wouldn’t hurt him.  His heart, apparently, was speaking for the rest of his body.

It seemed like hours later when Jethro finally whispered in his ear.  “Come for me, Tony.”

Tony screamed out his release, his body convulsing in a full body climax that made his mind white out for a moment and, when he could finally think again, he was wrapped in Jethro’s arms.

~*~*~

The overhead fan spun lazily, stirring the tropical breeze.  Tony rolled over, looking up at the fan, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.  Turning his head, he looked over at the man beside him.  Jethro was looking at him and Tony blushed. 

“What?” he asked softly.

Jethro smiled.  “I love you, Tony.”  Jethro reached out and ran a knuckle down the side of Tony’s face.

Tony’s breath stilled in his lungs as he stared at Jethro.

“Tony?” Jethro asked, worry creeping into his voice.

 

Tony blinked back unwanted tears.  He’d cried enough in the past couple of years and didn’t want his and Jethro’s first time to be marred by them. 

“You okay?”