Part One

Special Agent Stan Burley, senior member of the NCIS team headed by Leroy Jethro Gibbs, was feeling remarkably bored. With the previous case solved and nothing new to be investigated whilst the current status of the team had been down-graded to standby, he was left with nothing more to do than go through a pile of cold cases with the hope of picking up on any news leads. Hence he was relieving the growing boredom by intermittently surfing the internet. It was an activity he would not usually have dared to conduct at work, but with the boss away on a temporary assignment, Langer on sick leave and Blackadder still out on what had become a much extended coffee run, he had no concern about being seen. Or so he thought.

“Good afternoon, Stanley.” A smooth English accent reached his ears.

Visibly startled, he looked up to find Doctor Mallard standing beside his desk. Quickly closing the internet window before the other man could see the content of the site he had been browsing, he ventured, “Anything I can do for you, Ducky? ... I haven’t heard of any new cases coming in.”

“No. Fortunately, there have been no new corpses brought to the lab for my attention, so things are relatively quiet at the moment.” Mallard sighed. “I was just wondering if he had arrived yet.”

Puzzled by the seemingly unconnected comments, Burley tried not to frown as he asked, “Who?”

“Who do you think?” a more worrying voice was heard above the sound of the reclosing elevator.

“Gibbs!” Burley shot to his feet at the unexpected sight of his boss. “What are you doing back?”

“Ducky.” Gibbs ignored the question, but nodded an acknowledgement to the Medical Examiner as he strode past the two men and was soon climbing the stairs to reach one of the offices on the first floor.

“Jethro.” Mallard returned the curt greeting, before almost casually continuing, “So, Stanley, will you be visiting Brent later today?”

“Brent?” Burley echoed, his eyes tracking Gibbs retreating figure until he disappeared from view.

“I was intending to visit him on the way home to see how he’s progressing and drop off a few things, but I think I’ll have to postpone it until tomorrow. The Carer telephoned to say that Mother is having a bad day. Seems that she decided to spend the afternoon sunbathing in the garden, but the temperature has dropped and it’s proving somewhat difficult to get her to put her clothes back on...”

“I’ll be going after work.” Burley cut off the explanation of why Mrs Mallard’s carer had needed to telephone, and shuddering at the thought of a woman in her nineties sunbathing naked.

“Good. Perhaps I could prevail upon you to deliver a book for me. The poor man is suffering from mounting boredom with nothing to do except look at the walls of his room whilst that broken leg of his slowly knits together.” Mallard sympathised. “He ought to be discharged from hospital in a day or two, but I know he’s eager to get back to work, even though he will be restricted to desk duty for a while. I once knew someone who had a very similar break but it occurred in a totally different manner. He was trying to impress and very attractive young lady and...”

“I’ll take it for you.” Burley interrupted what was likely to become another lengthy anecdote.

“So kind.” The doctor smiled his appreciation. “I’ll get it up to you before you leave. Thank you.”

As the doctor departed, Burley’s thoughts soon moved away from Langer. Much as he could sympathise with his team-mate, he was presently more concerned with what was going on upstairs between Gibbs and the Director.



Thomas Morrow heard the whirlwind that was Gibbs before the door of his office was abruptly opened and the man stepped inside.

“What’s going on?”

Inwardly smiling at the immediate and outright demand for an explanation, Morrow looked at the slightly rumpled attire of his most senior Agent and responded, “Do have a seat, Jethro, you must be feeling a little tired from the journey. I know I left a message for you to return without delay, but I wasn’t expecting you to report in quite so soon. Tomorrow morning would have been acceptable. You could have taken the time, at least, to go home and freshen up first.”

“I can do that here. Don’t change the subject.” Gibbs tersely replied. “I was making good progress which will probably go to waste now, so perhaps you’d cut to the chase and tell me why I was recalled almost two weeks early.”

“I’m sure that Agent Cassidy is more than capable of picking up from where you left off.” Morrow remarked. “I’m going to have a drink. Would you care to join me?”

Gibbs nodded as he moved to the closest chair and sat down. Everything about his return from Gitmo had been rushed, from writing up the result of his last interview, handing over the updated case file to Paula Cassidy for her continuation, arranging a seat on the next flight back to the States and just about everything else connected to it. Morrow was right, however, he ought to have taken some time to go home. He should have, at least, had a short rest, then shower and change clothes before coming in, but the former could wait and he could take care of the latter once the Director had told him why he had been so abruptly recalled.

Neither receiving nor waiting for a response, Morrow poured a measure of bourbon into two glasses and handed one to his annoyed agent and long-time friend before taking a seat on his couch.

“Well?”

Taking a moment to savour a small drink, Morrow easily countered, “Were you really making good progress with Tariq Aziz?”

“Thought I’d already covered that.” Gibbs replied, but there was a hint of a smile around his lips.

“Don’t try the ‘second b is for bastard’ routine with me, Jethro, it won’t work.”

“Okay, Tom, but cut to the chase. Are you going to tell me why I’ve been recalled any time soon?”

“That’s better.” Morrow took a second drink of his bourbon. “We’ve been handed a file by the FBI that I want you to look into.”

“I know they need all the help they can get to solve anything, but since when did we start to work their cases for them?” Gibbs voiced his low opinion of some of the FBI agents he had known.

“We don’t. It’s our case now.” Morrow sounded smug. “Rather, ‘ours’ as in ‘yours’. I want you to take it on.”

Aware that he was finally going to be provided with all the information that he required, Gibbs slowly raised the glass to his lips and allowed himself to relax a little.



Eventually returning to the bullpen with two files tucked under his arm, Gibbs glanced around and noted that he still had one agent missing. Turning his attention to Burley, who had his nose in a cold case folder, he asked, “Where’s Blackadder?”

“She’s on a coffee run.” Burley provided her given excuse before realising that it sounded weak.

“How long has she been gone?”

“About...” Burley edged and inwardly grimaced when he noted the other scowl. “A while now.”

Gibbs wasn’t angry with Burley for being reluctant to admit how long his team mate had been absent from her desk, but as the most recent addition to the team, he was annoyed that she didn’t appear to be making much of an effort to fit in more or, apparently, pull her weight.

Trying for a distraction, Burley nodded to the files Gibbs held. “Do we have a new case, boss?”

Inwardly approving of the tactic, Gibbs asked, “What do you know of Ricardo DiMarco?”

“Ricardo Enrique DiMarco, multi-millionaire Chairman of DiMarco Industries?” Burley responded, easily reeling off a few facts that easily came to mind. “The sole proprietor of several companies held under the umbrella of DiMarco Industries, he’s also a major share-holder in as many others that are independent. Business interests ranging from real estate and land development, import and export, cosmetics and fashion, to contracts with the Department of Defence. Would that be the DiMarco in question?”

Suitably impressed by his agent’s recitation, Gibbs nodded as the elevator sounded its arrival.

“DiMarco?” a feminine voice belatedly joined the conversation. “As in fashion, cosmetics...”

“Coffee.” Gibbs tersely interrupted, having subjected the late arrival to brief scrutiny.

“I don’t think he’s connected to...”

“Not him, you.” Gibbs’ expression should have warned her that he wasn’t impressed. “It looks like you’ve misplaced the coffee from your coffee run. Make good on it.”

“You want me to go on a coffee run?” Blackadder sounded her displeasure. “Traffic is really bad at the moment. I’ll get caught in...”

“You won’t need to leave the building. In fact, if you do leave this building again when you’re on duty without a genuine reason, I’ll put you on suspension.” Gibbs coldly stated. “Meanwhile, you can make use of the staff facilities.”

“But...” Wisely cutting off the resentful objection, Blackadder headed for the kitchen.

Clearing his throat, Burley asked, “Is there a reason for NCIS to be interested in DiMarco, other than suspicion of illegal arms dealing, money laundering and involvement with organised crimes?”

“That just about covers it.” Gibbs wryly admitted. “The FBI conducted an investigation but were unable to come up with anything solid that would stand up in court. Most recently, the subject matter was illegal arms trading. A loose connection was made with disposal of weapons from several marine bases, but they couldn’t find the proof needed so they’ve turned it over us.”

“That must have hurt.” Burley bit back the amusement that threatened to spill over.

“I doubt it made Agent Fornell happy.” Gibbs agreed with a visible smirk.

Grinning openly, Burley enquired, “Have they given us any specific leads to go on?”

“What do you think?” Gibbs shook his head as he handed over the larger file. “Go over everything they’ve managed to collect. Anything that can’t be verified needs clarifying. Add to it if you can. Give it the full works.”

“It’s going to eat up a lot of time, boss.” Burley warned.

“We’ve got a few weeks before any more disposals are scheduled. Make it your priority.”

“I’ll get Viv to...”

“She can take the cold cases off your hands.”

Wondering why his team-mate was being excluded, Burley gave a puzzled frown.

“DiMarco always manages to stay at least one step ahead. Could be that he’s getting warned.”

“You think that someone at the FBI could be giving him the tip-off?”

“Hope not, but can’t rule it out.” Gibbs flatly replied. Blackadder was ex-FBI and still associated with her former colleagues. An innocent comment reaching the wrong ears could ruin any progress.

“Understood.” Burley nodded, realising it was more of a precaution than being personal. Eyes on the other file as Gibbs stepped away, he pointedly asked, “What about that?”

“It’s something that I’ll be looking into.”

“Just you, boss?” Burley was intrigued. “If it’s relevant to investigation...”

“Then, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“But...”

“Concentrate on what you already have.” Gibbs silenced him. “If you need me, I’ll be with Abby.”



Gibbs’ team might have been having a quiet time and not be in need of the skills of a Forensic Specialist but NCIS had many other teams. In various ways, several investigations were waiting upon the findings of the resident expert to come up with results that would further the progress of their cases. Hence the lab was still a hive of activity despite being run by a solitary occupant. In the midst of machines running tests, Abby Scuito sat in front of twin computers about to begin her most recently appointed task. Provided with a disc holding details of calls made to and from a particular cell-phone, she had got as far as loading it and was about to begin the task of identifying and cross-referencing numbers when her eyes were suddenly covered by the hands of someone standing close behind her. Delighted, she squealed, “Gibbs, you’re back!”

Taken into a brief, but fierce hug as she turned to face him, he waited for her to take a step back before admitting, “Missed you, too, Abby. Have they been keeping you busy?”

“I’ve not exactly been rushed off my...” Abby suddenly paused and narrowed her eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you haven’t just come down to say ‘hello’?”

“Hey, unfair.” Gibbs held back his amusement.

“Maybe.” Abby tried to keep a straight face, too pleased to have him back to be mad at him. “But now tell me the other reason. Do you have a new case? Is that why you’ve come back early?”

“There is something that the Director wants me to look into.” Gibbs replied in answer to both questions. “You should be receiving details of cell-phone records...”

“I’ve just got them loaded.” Abby waved a hand in the direction of her computers.

“Good. I need to know...”

“Who’s been called, made calls,..” Abby imitated his often used expression of raising an eyebrow.

“That’s my girl.” Gibbs smiled. “So, you’ll get onto it...”

“I’ve started, already!” She reminded him and half-turned back to look at the two monitors.

“It’s sensitive, Abby. I need you to keep the findings just between the two of us.”

Intrigued by the ‘sensitive’ comment and why it was all to be kept so confidential, she had a sudden flash of insight and boldly ventured, “You’re going undercover! That’s why you’ve come back early. The Director wants you to...”

“Slow down.” Gibbs admired her shrewd leap of logic, but needed her to stay focused. “The Director did bring me back for this, but he won’t have any further involvement unless it’s needed. The cell records do relate to the assignment, but I’ll be assessing all the information before deciding the best way to handle it.”

“But you might be going undercover?”

“It’s possible, yes.” Gibbs admitted. “That’s why it’s important that there are no leaks. You only report to me. Okay?”

“Okay. You can rely on me.” Abby agreed with a glance at the monitors that were now displaying rows of data. Her eyes darting from one screen to the other, she became alarmed and her expression gave it away.

Noticing the sudden hitch in her breathing, Gibbs touched her arm. “Abby, what’s wrong?”

“I haven’t done anything wrong! I swear it, Gibbs!” Abby shook her head, worried. “I wouldn’t... I wouldn’t do anything wrong...”

“Abby!” Gibbs gripped her arm more firmly. “What is it?”

“That’s my number, Gibbs! See, on the calls received.” She pointed to the monitor the left and then the one on the right. “And the calls...”

Gibbs looked at the screens and saw a number he recognised appearing several times on both.

“What’s going on Gibbs? Why are we checking Tony’s cell-phone records?”

Abby somehow having a personal connection was both an unexpected and unwelcome twist that Gibbs could not have anticipated. Because of her role in helping him to discover more about the man, he had been prepared to provide more information as necessary, but her personal connection demanded it was sooner and in more depth. It was forcing his hand and he did not like having the choice taken away from him.

“Gibbs?” Abby anxiously fretted and bit into her bottom lip.

Thinking through what to say and where to start, Gibbs decided to begin with the obvious. “Why have you been in contact with this guy?”

“No. Oh, no.” Abby shook her head. “I will tell you everything you want to know, of course I will, but first you have to tell me why Tony’s being investigated.”

“It isn’t ‘Tony’ I’m going after. It’s his father.” Gibbs stated. “Now, I want you to calm down and keep this professional. Do you think you can do that?”

“I’m calming. It isn’t Tony. Keep it professional. I can do that, too. I’m doing that. I’m calm.”

Accepting the partial truth at face value, Gibbs lifted her chin and said, “I’m going to get something for each of us to drink. Then we’ll sit down and talk this through. Okay?”



Not wanting to be away from Abby longer than needed, Gibbs made a bee-line for the corridor housing a chilled drink dispenser, followed by a detour to the bull-pen. Seeing both of his agents now present and hard at work, he informed them that he would be unavailable for the rest of the afternoon. Sensing Burley’s curiosity, he picked up the coffee that Blackadder had placed on his desk and headed for the elevator.

Re-entering the lab to find Abby pacing the floor and looking anxious, Gibbs found a place to put his coffee, then handed over a CafPow and guided her to a chair with the gentle instruction, “Sit.”

Complying, Abby latched on to the straw standing proud of the beaker and drew a large drink.

“Feeling better?” Gibbs asked, hoping for a nod. He received a shrug. “Okay. I know I can trust you, Abby, but I still need to say it. What we’re talking about doesn’t go any further. You got that?”

Appreciating that he was going to confide in her, Abby nodded.

“Abby?”

“Doesn’t leave this room. Got it. Loud and clear, sir!” Abby straightened to attention.

“At ease.” Gibbs halted her half-made salute with concealed amusement, adding, “Before we get into this, let me ask you something. How long have you known... Anthony DiNozzo?”

“A few months.”

“Do you know what he does for a living?”

“Yes, he’s a cop, a detective. I have a friend who works as a lab tech with Washington PD and...”

“A cop.” Gibbs interrupted to prevent her from going off at too much of a tangent as she was prone to. “So, I’m doing the guy a favour and going for damage limitation. If he’s clean, he doesn’t deserve to have his reputation tarnished and no-one else ever needs to know about this part of the investigation. I haven’t even informed the team. But if we discover otherwise...”

“He is. He doesn’t.” Abby insisted. “We won’t...”

“Either way, I’ll be checking him out.”

“And you’re going to ask me not to say anything about any of this to Tony. Right, Gibbs?”

“Do I really need to ask?”

“No, but I don’t like it.” Abby pouted. “I can do it, but only if you don’t ask me to like it.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Gibbs tweaked one of her pigtails. “I don’t much like it myself.”

Summoning a small, but tremulous smile, Abby asked, “So, what happens now?”

“Now,” Gibbs reached a decision. “You get your coat and I take you home.”

“But...” Abby looked over her shoulder at the waiting monitors.

“We can come at it rested and with fresh minds tomorrow.” Gibbs insisted and watched as she began to power down the computers. “C’mon, we’ll pick up something to eat on the way.”



Brushing aside the mild objection to the ride, because of Abby needing her own vehicle for the return journey in the morning, by saying he would collect her, Gibbs soon had them on their way. Despite knowing that she was filled with barely contained curiosity, there had been very little conversation during the opportunity provided by the journey, although that could have had down to Gibbs usual style of driving and Abby holding on tightly as he veered in and out of the increasing traffic. Making a brief stop to buy a takeaway meal, they were soon parked on the driveway of a small semi-detached property.

Following inside, Gibbs paused beside her in the hallway to remove and hang his jacket. By no means a stranger to her home, he also took off his shoes and placed them on a rack before entering a well furnished, comfortable lounge.

Wasting no time in making drinks to go with the food, Abby piled everything onto a tray and carried it to a table close to the couch. Taking a place at the opposite end to Gibbs, her legs tucked beneath her, she invited, “Help yourself.”

Gibbs reached for his coffee and took a large drink. Almost scalding hot and very strong, the brew was exactly the way he preferred it. Taking a second, appreciative and equally large gulp, he patiently waited for the questions and comments that he knew would be forthcoming.

Taking a small bite of pizza that was quickly chewed and swallowed, Abby was about to take another bite but, unable to delay the inevitable any longer, instead, put down her plate and asked, “So, what have the FBI got against Tony?”

“Amongst other things, his father is strongly suspected of illegal arms dealing.” Gibbs bluntly revealed. He knew she did not believe her new friend had any involvement in such things and was trying to seek comfort from him, but until or unless he had proof positive of the man’s complete innocence he could offer nothing more than he had already stated in her lab. “Considering the family connection, it’s only standard procedure to check him out.”

“Can you tell me what’s already in the file? Is that allowed?”

“You’re already in on this, Abby, so there’s no need or other reasons to keep it from you.” Gibbs replied, retrieving the lean file and flipping it open to reveal that it only contained a few pages. After deciding to hand it to NCIS [or had Morrow demanded that they completely take over?] the FBI had obviously cut their loss and not spent anymore time or man-power on further investigating the DiNozzo connection. Holding out his arm, he waited for Abby to shuffle closer and then the two of them bent their heads to silently share reading through the information that was provided.

It briefly detailed DiNozzo’s education at Rhode Island Military Academy followed by Ohio State University, stating that he had majored in Physical Education and gained a BA. Noting his time at a police academy and subsequent two years of employment with the Peoria Police Department, then a transfer to Philadelphia PD, where he stayed for eighteen months, followed by a move to Baltimore less than two years ago, there were some basic notes on a few of the cases he had been involved in. Overall, however, it was shamefully sparse and lacking in detail.

Pleased there was nothing incriminating in the file but equally unimpressed with the depth of the information, Abby moved back to the other end of the couch and could not help saying, “Is that it?”

Finding a page that had almost statically sealed itself to another, Gibbs took a moment to go over it and summarised, “It says here that he’s the only child of a wealthy family from Long Island. His mother died when he was eleven years old...”

“Poor Tony...”

“His father had remarried before he was shipped off to prep school. That marriage and the two that followed all ended in divorce.” Gibbs could see that she was now even more in sympathy mode, so added another snippet of information he had been made aware of whilst talking with Morrow, a part that should guarantee a new perspective. “There is also the fact that Anthony Daniel DiNozzo only came into official existence after a legal Petition for Name Change. According to the birth certificate his original name was Antonio Enrique DiMarco. There’s no reason listed as to why it was changed, but DiNozzo was his mother’s maiden surname.”

Abby had no idea how to respond and, for once, did not make the attempt.

Taking out an A5 envelope, Gibbs closed the file with a snap. “It’s not much to work with.”

“So that’s less time spent on checking it.” Abby went for the positive angle. “Besides, you prefer to work with information that we gather ourselves. You always say it’s more reliable.”

“It is.” Gibbs admitted wryly.

“I’ll start running a background check tomorrow.”

Nodding approval, Gibbs added, “I’ll need the kind of stuff you can’t get from computer records. You can help with that by telling me how you...”

“Became friends?”

“...met each other.”

“Okay, but he is my friend.” Abby insisted.

Gibbs inwardly sighed and added a gentle reminder. “What’s the best way to keep a secret?”

“Rule four.” Abby smiled and easily recited. “The best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself. Second best is to tell one other person, if you must. There is no third best.”

“Can you keep our secret?”

“I can do it.” Abby said, valuing his willingness to trust her word. “I don’t like it, but I can do it.”

“Good.” Gibbs upended the envelope and caught the photograph that slipped out. It was a copy of the one taken for his PD personnel record and showed a young man with dark brown hair that had a deliberately unruly style. The colour of his eyes looked like hazel, but according to a description was actually green. Whilst the photograph could not conceal the fact that the man was undoubtedly handsome, it was unable to reveal anything of his character. Needing to know something of what was hidden behind the image, Gibbs prompted, “So tell me how the two of you ... became friends.”

“It was Tamara’s birthday. She’s the friend who’s a lab tech with Washington PD. We had tickets for a concert, but Tamara had agreed to have a few drinks with some of the people she works with first. I’d met and knew most of them already, but there was this one guy there that I hadn’t seen before...” Abby recalled the occasion. “Tamara introduced us and it was... Well, it was Tony. She told me he was a detective with Baltimore PD and I asked how come he was here in DC.”

Gibbs patiently waited, letting her have a moment before raising an impatient eyebrow.

“He said he’d been working a case in Baltimore that crossed jurisdiction with Washington. It had been agreed to make it a joint investigation and he was part of the team.”

“We’ll need to find out how it’s going. When he goes back to Baltimore it could make things...”

“It’s already wrapped, but he won’t be going back for a while.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because when the arrests were made, three of the Washington cops ended up hospitalised...”

“Abby.” Gibbs tried not to sound snappish, but he had had enough with the dramatic pauses.

“It left them short-handed and since Tony would have to come back to give evidence at the trial, they asked if they could keep him for a while. He’s here on loan until he’s given his testimony.” Abby revealed. “And before you ask, the original trial date was set for next month, but last I heard, the defence lawyers were trying to get it postponed for at least another two or three months.”

“And you know all of this, how?”

“Tamara said he was on loan when she introduced us.”Abby tried not to sound defensive, aware that Gibbs needed to know what was fact or simply gossip. “Then, when Tony and I got talking, I asked how long he would be here and he said it would be until after he’d testified. The rest came out the other times we met.”

“You’ve seen a lot of each other?”

“Well, Tamara’s been lusting after one of the other detective’s, so we’ve starting off quite a few evenings at their local and Tony was usually there as part of the group. We’d sort of clicked and become friends the first time we’d met so, whilst Tamara went off to do some flirting, I’d have a drink or two and chat with Tony. We got on really well, so I asked if he would do me a favour...”

“What kind of favour?”

Abby smiled at his protective tone and fondly recalled the occasion.

***“You want a favour? From me?” DiNozzo looked intrigued but didn’t hesitate. “Just name it.”

“Did you mean it when you said that you liked hanging with me?”

“With my favourite Goth chick?” DiNozzo smiled. “Do you really need to ask?”

“Enough to go out with me tomorrow night?” Abby pushed for a positive response. “There’s a club I like and I think you might like it too...”

“You want me to take you? You must know dozens of guys that would jump at the chance...”

“I’m not looking for a date, Tony. I’m asking as a friend. I have other friends that go there, but I’d rather not arrive alone...”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying that I wouldn’t want it to be a date, but it’s cool that you don’t.” DiNozzo was quick to ensure her that no offence was meant or had been taken. “If you want a friend to walk in with and keep you company, I can do that.”

“Tony, you’re the best!” Abby gave him a hug and stepped back to look him over. Noting the smart trousers and jacket he was wearing, she advised, “You’ll need to dress down, though. It’s a t-shirt and jeans kind of place.”

“Whatever.” DiNozzo shook his head in amusement. “What time shall I pick you up?”***

“So, if it wasn’t a date, then the two of you aren’t...”

“Me and... No! Not that there's anything wrong with him. I mean, he's gorgeous and...”

“Abby!” Gibbs reined her back towards answering the actual question,

“No, there is no me and Tony, at least, not in that way. But we are friends, good friends, better than good...” Abby trailed off when she caught the growing annoyance on display.

Relieved that the relationship between them was platonic and avoided further problems, Gibbs again looked at the photograph. Noting the slight tilt of lips that seemed to be trying to keep a serious expression instead of giving into a smile, he almost felt as if he was being mocked.

“So, he agreed to take me and he was the perfect gentleman.” Abby shrewdly assured. “Arriving on time to collect me.....”

***Pressing the bell and grinning at the ‘spooky’ movie theme that played, DiNozzo had no sooner seen the front door being opened than his arm was grabbed and he was pulled unceremoniously inside. As suddenly as he was hugged and then released, his benign assailant subjected him to a lengthy visual inspection. Beginning to feel uneasy with the intensity, he ventured, “Dressed okay?”

“Mmm..,” Abby nodded, thinking that Tony really should wear close fitting t-shirts and jeans more often. Beneath the open black leather jacket, the moss green t-shirt brought out the green of his eyes and the fit of it more clearly defined his already impressive torso. Likewise, black denim hugged his hips, thighs and... Deciding it was best not to dwell on the conjured image, she still could not resist saying, “Looking good. More than good, you look... hot!”

“Abby!” Tony admonished with a shake of his head.

Abby chuckled. “Don’t try telling me that no-one’s ever told you that you look good before!?”

“I’ve been told.” Tony admitted without false modesty, but not admitting it was being called ‘hot’ that had him trying not to blush. Turning the tables, he looked closer at Abby to conduct his own appraisal. He had never seen her wear anything that did not fit into her Gothic life-style. It suited her personality and he thought she always looked good, but tonight there was something more displayed by her totally black ensemble. From the deep platform, knee high, heavily buckled leather boots and fishnet stockings that her short, short skirt revealed were held up by lace and ribbon garters, to her equally short crop top that revealed a large expanse of her midriff. Something more alluring, something... reining his thoughts, he said, “You’re looking pretty damn good yourself, Abbs. If this was a real date...”

“Tony!” Abby grinned in delight. “You say the best things!”

“Only telling you the truth, Abbs.”***

“Abby, if you’re going to insist on telling me every single thing that was said and done we’re going to be here all night and neither one of us will get any sleep." Gibbs teased, but even if she was up for it, the effect of his very long and hectic day of travel, briefing and discussion was beginning to catch up with him. Even so, he wanted her to know that he was not discounting what she was saying or did not value her input and said, “Any and all things that we think may be relevant can be discussed tomorrow. For now, satisfy my curiosity and answer one question. Why did you ask him to take you out?”

“Well, he was obviously new to DC, didn’t know many people and didn’t know his way around. The only nights out he got was in the company of the other cops he works with and they only took him to the same place where they always hang out.” Abby grimaced, clearly indicating that it would not be her preference. “I thought he’d like to try somewhere different and meet more people. Anyway, that was the reason why I asked him to go with me to Xander’s. I thought he might enjoy it and I wanted him to meet some other friends of mine.”

Gibbs caught the club name and shook off a little of his tiredness. “Xander’s is a gay club.”

“Well, duh, you think I don’t know that?” Abby grinned. She and Gibbs had a deep friendship and trust in each that entailed knowledge that not many were privy to, but thinking of Tony’s reputation in his career in law enforcement, she quickly added, “But you don’t have to be gay to go there. I mean, just because someone goes there doesn’t mean...”

With an unflinching gaze, Gibbs asked, “So, why did you take him?”

“I thought... I kind of noticed... I mean, I wondered...” Abby briefly chewed on her bottom lip. As Gibbs, himself, would not think badly of herself or Tony whatever their reason for going there, she said, “Well, Tony gets so much attention from so many different women and for all that he plays up to it, big time, and I mean big, he never seems... That is, he doesn’t... I’ve never known him... I began to wonder if it was all for show because,.. He doesn’t follow through or make dates or... anything...”

“Really?” the word slipped out uncensored and Gibbs mentally slapped his own head.

“Really.” Abby replied, for once not picking up on the sub-text. “It made me wonder if he might be interested in other options. Like, maybe he was, he might have been... repressed or something...”

“How did he react when he found out what kind of club you’d got him to go to?”

“He didn’t freak out, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby responded in defence of her absent friend, then realised that the friend in front of her had not meant it that way. Relenting, but trying to hold back a smile, she admitted, “I guess he was a little bit... surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“Well, he didn’t know where I was taking him and when we got there he was... Well, once he realised... I’d say he was surprised!” Abby chuckled, remembering Tony’s briefly displayed, wide-eyed expression as he had realised the nature of the club. “But he was really good about it, even though I knew he must have been feeling a little bit out of his depth.”

An eyebrow mirroring his rising curiosity, wanting further elaboration, Gibbs reached a decision. Getting to his feet, he said, “It’s late, so we’ll leave it there for now and come at it fresh tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 0700.”

Part Two

The journey to the Navy Yard taking less than thirty minutes, Abby and Gibbs were amongst the first of their shift to arrive at the NCIS building. Leaving the elevator on different floors, they each went about the business of setting up for the day.

Getting into his computer, Gibbs was not surprised to find that Burley had uploaded the entire DiMarco case file for him. The opening segment had been clearly marked to show how much had already been covered and carried Burley’s sporadic annotations of information that had been confirmed, needed further verification, had already been amended or added to. Pleased with his senior agent’s usual diligence, he used the time before his team arrived to read it through.

Shortly before 0800 the sound of the elevator marked the arrival of other personnel. Hearing a backpack thump down onto the opposite desk, Gibbs didn’t look up as he said, “This is good work Stan. You’ve managed to come up with a few things that the FBI missed out altogether. Keep at it and you may come up with up something that will help get DiMarco convicted.”

“Thanks, boss!” Burley smiled as he sat down. The ex-Marine was well known for being hard to please and rarely bestowed praise, so he knew it had been sincere and savoured the moment. He was tempted to ask if any progress had been made with the other file, but managed to hold the question back. Despite a dislike of being left in the dark about anything that might be case-related and being curious about what was being kept confidential and why, he consoled himself that Gibbs would make it known, albeit in his own time, if he deemed it necessary.

Closing the file on his computer and getting to his feet, Gibbs heard the elevator open its door to deposit more employees onto the floor as he said, “If you need me call my cell.”

Sliding into place behind her desk as he strode by, Blackadder said, “Morning, boss.” She gained a curt nod of acknowledgement but noted that his eyes glanced at the clock on the wall and inwardly sighed.

“Morning, Viv.” Burley greeted her and waited until Gibbs had disappeared before adding, “If you left home a little earlier you’d miss the heavy traffic.”

“I’m only seven minutes late!”

“The key word in that sentence is ‘late’.”

“It’s only seven minutes for pity’s sake!” Blackadder shrugged off the well meant advice.

“Late is late and not the way to get back into good books after yesterday’s ‘coffee’ run.”

“Not everyone working here sucks up to His Lord and Master, Stanley.” Blackadder sneered.

“Not everyone gets to stay on his team either.” Burley threw back with satisfaction. Promoted to the supervisory role after Mike Franks had retired, Gibbs had soon set about forming his own team. Burley had been amongst the original people selected and, over four years later, was the only one of them still there. Deservedly proud of being the longest serving member of the team that topped all others, he was smiling smugly as he got back to work.

~*~*~

Someone else who had arrived early for work was also being accused of sucking up.

“Are you trying to make the rest of us look bad, Tony?” Dan Peterson scowled.

“Brown nosing won’t score you enough points to get paid any extra!” Eric Cohen laughed.

“I just wanted to make sure I got a doughnut today.” DiNozzo grinned at the teasing and held up what was left of the sugary treat he had almost finished eating. “If you guys get to them first you never leave me one!”

Taking a doughnut from the box of a dozen they had delivered each morning which was presently sitting on the desk next to DiNozzo’s, Cohen was about to take a bite when the telephone beside it rang. Closer then DiNozzo and beating him to it, he grunted; “If you’re hoping to speak to Avelinni, he’s not in yet.”

Shaking his head at Cohen’s abruptness, DiNozzo left him to it, though he did wonder why the missing man wasn’t here yet. His temporary secondment had been based on a number of reasons, not least being that of providing Avelinni with a stand-in partner whilst his own, being one of the three men hospitalised, was unfit for work. The two of them worked well in tandem and had soon discovered, apart from their Italian ancestry, that they had other things in common. One was always being amongst the first to arrive. Thoughtfully chewing on the last of his doughnut, he ran through the possibilities of why Avelinni was close to being late. He could simply have over-slept, or it could be car trouble. Maybe it was...

“What’s that? ...Elisabetta’s what? Are you sure?”

DiNozzo stopped eating and looked up sharply.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll tell him. You just...” Cohen shrugged. “...just do whatever it is you should be doing!”

~*~*~

The sound of his entry into the lab concealed by the blaring music that was playing, Gibbs took a moment to watch as Abby moved effortlessly between the three computers that were now positioned on the work station in front of her. The two that had been loaded with cell phone records displayed a list of numbers, some having name and address information beside them. The third was showing a different photograph of DiNozzo to the one he had already seen. It had obviously been taken some time before the other when his hair was shorter and was alongside his driver’s licence details.

He was about to make his presence known, but Abby spoke first, “Aren’t you going to ask if I have anything for you yet?”

“Do you?”

“No.” She turned around to face him and saw what he held. “But you do. That is for me, right?”

“It is.” Gibbs nodded, offering the large beaker of her favourite caffeine infusion. “Nothing, eh?”

“Nothing useful.” Abby paused to siphon a large gulp. “I’ve got most of the cell numbers linked to caller identities and such, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary so far. At least, nothing that stands out to me. Most seem to be work related.”

Running his eyes down the list on display, Gibbs was inclined to agree, though he did notice something odd. “He’s been in Baltimore coming up to two years, but apart from the occasional call to the PD, probably for routine check-ins, he hasn’t made any other calls there.”

“Maybe he hasn’t made the sort of friends there that he likes to keep in touch with.” Abby shrugged it off with her own brand of reasoning. “If I went to work in another city for a while, I don’t think I’d be calling all the people I know in DC every day. Of course, I’d call you every day, Gibbs. Not that I’d want to work anywhere else, but if I did, I’d call you every day and write to you and...”

“Abby.” Gibbs cut in, halting her progressive divergence from the matter in hand.

“Sorry.” She drew another drink. “But I don’t think it’s really strange that he doesn’t call...”

“Point taken.” Gibbs partly conceded. “What about the background check?”
“I’ve just started on it, really.” Abby wryly admitted. “I’ve only got one pair of hands and eyes.”

“I’m not criticising, Abby, just asking. Besides, I’m here and free for the time being, so maybe I can help you out a little.”

Pulling back to look at Gibbs through narrowed eyes, Abby accused, “Who are you and what have you done with the real Gibbs? Real Gibbs would never help in my lab!”

“Then you’d best make the most of the offer whilst it lasts.” Gibbs cheekily grinned.

~*~*~

Unhappy with finding himself suddenly restricted to desk-duty, DiNozzo looked at the mountain of files that had been handed to him and deeply sighed. Without Avelinni as backup, he was not allowed out on field-work and would be stuck at a desk until his return. Wondering if the higher ups might decide he should be put to better use and return him to his proper position in Baltimore, with a return just for testifying in court, he was unusually undecided on what he was hoping for.

Beyond helping to catch up on a huge backlog of paperwork, it certainly served no useful purpose to have him stay in DC if he wasn’t actively working any cases. Certainly, he would much prefer to be out in the field than be constantly stuck behind a desk, but returning to Baltimore would also mean not being easily able to meet and socialise with some of the new friends he had recently made. With that in mind, he now realised and admitted to himself that he was not looking forward to leaving, be it now or when the trial had concluded.

Shuffling through the paperwork that has been placed on his desk, he gave a heartfelt sigh. At least he had two evenings already arranged to spend with his friends this coming weekend to look forward to.

~*~*~

Not the quickest of computer users, but more competent than his team realised, Gibbs was actually enjoying his stint as Abby’s assistant and it was, after all, to his own benefit. If he was to succeed in getting DiMarco charged and convicted he needed to ensure that every possible means was available to him. If that meant thoroughly investigating his son for a possible connection or way to bring DiMarco down, then it was in his own best interest to help speed the process.

Returning from a trip to replenish their refreshments, Abby placed a large coffee beside Gibbs and said, “Well, I’ve almost completed the break-down of Tony’s cell record. How are you doing? Have you found anything interesting or useful?”

“I’ve concentrated on newspaper articles concerning Daddy DiMarco and family.” Gibbs almost shrugged, not considering any of it had particularly relevance as it mainly consisted of gossip that tended to surround the rich and/or famous. Stopping to pick up his drink, he added, “If you want to take a look, I’ve printed a few things out.”

Reaching for the small pile of paper he pointed to, Abby curiously scanned the articles and found one that contained a photograph of a glamorous, good looking couple, posing with practiced smiles. To the side of them was a young boy with a downcast head. He was dressed in a ‘sailor’ style suit and from what could be seen of his expression, he looked dejected. Thinking it was probably due to a dislike of the media attention, she sighed, “Poor kid doesn’t look very happy being photographed. It’s okay if the parents want the publicity, but to force it on children... It must be awful to be dressed up and paraded for the cameras like that... Oh, my god, this is Tony! How old was he... Aw, Gibbs, he was only eight years old when this was taken... It is Tony, isn’t it?”

Nodding, Gibbs said, “If you don’t like that, you’ll like the next one even less,”

Taking a look, she found a selection of pictures showing a large group of men dressed in military uniforms. Taken just a few seconds apart and showing what was obviously a re-enacted battle from the American Civil War, there were also a number children involved. The tallest, probably oldest, were on the edges of the battle area and appeared to be enjoying taking part, but there were a few smaller children in the background. They were also wearing uniforms but were positioned out of harms’ way and stood watching. Looking closely, she was able to identify her friend amongst the smaller boys and said, “He doesn’t look very pleased to be there.”

“It was taken less than a month after his mother died.”

Noting that Ricardo DiMarco was smiling broadly, Abby swore, “He should still have been in mourning, Gibbs, not taking part in a Civil War tournament. He’s heartless!”

“Maybe.” Gibbs conceded, needing to keep her sympathy more restrained. “But DiNozzo wasn’t the first and won’t be the last to have a father that could have been a lot better.”

There were other articles with photographs, but none that showed Tony at an older age. When Abby looked up, she saw that Gibbs was sipping coffee and gazing at her intently. “What?”

“Don’t get suckered, Abby.” Gibbs gently warned her. “That little boy you’re feeling sorry for isn’t so young anymore. Despite a few photographs that you’re fretting over, he was still the son of a rich family and probably grew up as a spoiled brat in the lap of luxury.”

“Tony’s not spoiled...” the words faded under Gibbs unwavering gaze, but she still added, “Well, he isn’t.”

“I just don’t want you forgetting who he is. He may be living apart and apparently making his own way in the world, but that doesn’t mean he has no involvement in the family business.”

“I won’t forget, Gibbs.” Abby pledged. “He’s my friend, but I know you have to do this and I’ll do whatever I can to help. I may be biased but I promise that it won’t affect my work.”

“I never doubted that.” Gibbs reached out to tweak a pigtail and gained a small but warm smile.

“Do you have anything else?”

“I’ve only got one pair of hands and eyes.” Gibbs mimicked, amused at having the tables turned and being the one in the lab to be asked if progress was being made. Deciding to try and keep the lighter mood going for a while, he said, “Last night you were telling me about your visit to Xander’s. Is there anything else about that evening that you think I should know?”

“Well, I guess it depends on that you think is important. He’s doesn’t have a problem with guys who like guys, if that’s relevant. When I introduced him to a few friends that had been expecting us, he didn’t hold back from shaking hands or joining them for a drink.” Abby sounded her approval.

“You had friends already there that were expecting you? I thought you told DiNozzo that they wouldn’t be there until later? That you didn’t want to go alone as you’d be by yourself until...”

“Duh! It was a way of getting him there.”

“Sounds like a set-up to me.” Gibbs mildly admonished her mischievous nature.

“I already told you that I wanted him to meet some of my friends, so it doesn’t really matter if they were already there or turning up later...” Abby saw his look of disbelief and admitted, “All right, I’d arranged it that way. I thought it might cushion the impact if I could get into friendly company straight away and I was right. Although he was quiet for a while, well, quieter than he usually is, it didn’t take too long before he was adding to the conversation and making jokes that were as bad as ever... And since then, they’ve all become quite good friends...”

“Since?” Gibbs picked up the reference. “How many times have you taken him there?”

“I think it was about a week between his first and second visit, but we went twice the next week, so that makes four times and, oh... we went once after that, so that makes it five.”

“Over how long?”

“About three weeks, but we haven’t been for a while.”

“Why? Did he chicken out?”

“No! The others wanted to spend more time at their regular club, so we agreed to go there instead. I wasn’t sure that Tony would agree or, even, like it, but we’ve been,” she paused to work it out. “Four times in the last three weeks...”

“If he was okay with Xander’s, why did you think he wouldn’t like the other place?” he shot her a narrow eyed gaze. “Which club was it?”

“Spartac.”

Gibbs gave that a few moments of thought. Whatever Abby’s original reasons for wanting to take DiNozzo to Xander’s and meet her friends, it was the ideal place to introduce someone to the gay community. The best known of the ‘meet and greet’ type venues, it was quite tame by most other standards and not likely to freak out a novice. On the other hand, Spartac was more intense, more specialised and able to cater to a variety of specific tastes and wiles...

“What’s wrong with that?” Abby asked, breaking the lengthening silence. “It’s not as if you...”

“Quite.” Gibbs smiled. It had just become almost too easy but, if needed, he had found the way in.

~*~*~

Waiting in MTAC for a satellite link-up with personnel stationed in Afghanistan, Director Morrow heard the door open and close. A moment later, his lead agent settled into a chair beside him. Glancing sideways, he invited; “You got anything for me yet?”

“Not really, but Stan’s been discovering and adding a few facts that were missing from the file.”

“And Blackadder?”

“Still associates with FBI friends that are possible security leaks.” Gibbs responded. “She’s working on cold case files.”

“She must be wondering why she’s been excluded.” Morrow commented without censure.

“No, she thinks Stan’s doing the same. He’s very discreet.”

“And our favourite lab rat?”

“Is eager to help and working hard.”

“That’s good to have confirmed, but hardly surprising.” Morrow paused. “But you didn’t come and find me to tell me that. What else did you want to say?”

“Computer checks aren’t turning up much of real use. I’m thinking of going undercover.”

“I’ve already given you free rein, Jethro. You don’t need to run it by me to gain approval.”

“I wasn’t seeking approval, just telling you what I’m intending.”

“That went from ‘thinking’ to ‘intending’ in less than thirty seconds.” Morrow looked amused.

“I’m making decisions as I go.” Gibbs smirked. “Thought it best to let you know you may not see me around much for a while... and give you the nod that my absences will need covering.”

“As far as anyone will know, you’re still working on angles connected to your stint in Gitmo.”

“That should do it.” Gibbs nodded approval, not voicing that he had been thinking the same.

“Is there anything else you think I need to know?”

“I’ve got it covered.”

“Then why are you still here?” Morrow, this time, allowed the smile to surface.

“Here? You must be mistaking me for someone else.” Gibbs got to his feet and quietly departed.

~*~*~

Thinking that he had never spent as much of his work day in Forensics as he seemed to be doing at present, Gibbs reviewed the information that had been gained and had to admit that it amounted to very little of use. Even with two pairs of hands and eyes, there was a limit to how quickly the facts could be sifted for nuggets worth noting. So far, they had gained an unproved, but not altogether pleasant picture of what life might have been like for a young child growing up in the DiMarco household. Educational details were sparse and needed further elaboration but were not a priority unless likely to shine a light on other matters. Police Academy and other PD records were under-going a check, but Abby needed to exert caution to avoid triggering alerts that DiNozzo’s file was being accessed, which meant that it was slow. All of the information being garnered was necessary, but, so far, none of it was answering any of the more helpful and important questions. He wanted to know the reason why DiNozzo had changed his name. Why had he apparently severed all ties with his family? Why had he chosen a career in law enforcement? Was he really as unconnected and as innocent of involvement with DiMarco’s shadier business dealings as it appeared, or was it all somehow a sham to cover a different truth?

To gain those answers it would be necessary to learn more about the man himself and, with Abby’s biased opinion as an example of not relying solely upon the opinion of others, Gibbs decided not to defer his earlier decision any further and stated, “Abby, I need you to do something for me.”


Forty minutes later, Abby took a step back from her computer and asked; “What do you think?”

His own input, whilst considerable, being restricted to verbalising his requirements, Gibbs had watched the Goth tech’s hands practically fly over her keyboard as she securely closed all access to his own records and had then set about creating ‘new’ ones to verify the persona he would adopt. Anyone that cared to run a check, a Baltimore detective for instance, would find a comprehensive life history, including military background and drivers licence.

“Well?”

“Good work, Abby.” Gibbs voiced his approval. “You’ve done a good job.”

Preening at the praise, Abby said, “You sure about the name? I still prefer Ashe.”

“Not this time.” Gibbs shook his head. “I don’t know where this might take me. If needed, Gibbs can be passed off as being short for Gibson.”

Conceding the wisdom of caution, Abby ventured, “What about Ethan? Ethan Gibson?”

“Leave it the way we already have it.”

Abby sighed as she locked the newly created records, still thinking Jeffrey Gibson sounded a bore.

Aware of her disappointment in not having the name suggestions accepted, Gibbs knew he was about to make up for it by asking for her active participation in the next step...


About to advise her to calm down before she did anything else, Gibbs thought better of it. A subdued sounding Abby would be more abnormal than hyperactive Abby. Leaving her to handle the call in the way she thought best, he sat to one side ready to listen and observe.

Delighted to be entrusted by Gibbs to play a part, but conscious of her friendship with DiNozzo, Abby took a moment to compose herself, then dialled the required number and switched to hands-free speaker mode. After three rings the call was picked up and she asked, “Tony? Is that you?”

Smiling at the recognised voice, DiNozzo responded, “Do you know of any good job vacancies?”

“What?” Abby frowned, clearly not expecting this type of comeback.

“I’ve been glued to a desk, Abbs, and I want out.”

“Ah, poor baby.” She smiled, understanding. “What’s happened?”

“Elisabetta started having contractions this morning and Stefano has taken her to the hospital, which leaves me without a partner and they won’t let me out of the office by myself.”

“That’s too bad.” Abby sympathised, then said, “Contractions? But the baby isn’t due for weeks!”

“Another eleven weeks.” DiNozzo clarified. “I’ve called the hospital for updates and been told they tried to stop the labour. I didn’t know they could do that, but it didn’t work, though they have somehow managed to slow it down. Last I knew, they were considering a C-Section.”

“She’ll be all right. She will, and the baby. They’ll be fine. I know they will. And Stefano, he’ll be fine, they all will...”

Gibbs rolled his eyes as she went full tilt into trying not to panic.
“Yes, they will.” Tony assured her, cutting into the litany and down-playing his own concerns. “Now, much as I love talking with you, care to tell me why you’ve called?”

“Oh. Yes, why I called. Well, if you’re feeling down about being desk-bound, it’s something that might cheer you. I know we’ve already made plans for Friday and Saturday, but how would you like an extra night out. If you’re free tonight so am I?”

“Cool, but didn’t you say you don’t like clubbing when you have to be up early the next day?”

Gibbs smile did not go unnoticed.

“Yeah, but that’s down to my boss. He doesn’t like it if I party hard when I have school the day after.” Abby was gazing directly at him as she spoke. “Right now, though, I don’t care. He’s driving me crazy with unreasonable demands.”

Gibbs swiftly lost any sign of visible amusement.

“He’s what?” DiNozzo sharply demanded. “If he’s done anything...”

“He’s demanding that I come up with results quicker than my babies can get them.”

Gibbs shook his head, though he had felt a twinge of approval on hearing DiNozzo’s indignation.

“Major Mass-Spec not running to spec?” DiNozzo teased, having learned of her fondness for her lab equipment.

“If you’re going to insult my boys I’ll withdraw the offer!”

“Tell them I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “I’ll be there at 7.30 but try to be ready this time. Cab drivers don’t like being kept waiting.”

“I’ll be ready!” Abby promised and ended the call.

“Unreasonable demands?” Gibbs sternly questioned. “Guess that means you don’t want this...”

“You wouldn’t!” Abby wailed as he mock-threatened to snatch the unfinished beaker of Caf-Pow.

~*~*~

Ready and waiting before the 7.30 deadline, Abby was out of the house as soon as the cab pulled up and jumped into the back seat beside DiNozzo with a cheery, “Hi!”

“Hi, yourself!” he threw back and gave the driver a nod to indicate that he should continue the journey. As Abby wriggled closer and interlinked their touching arms, he thought back to the first time they had shared a cab to go clubbing. Then, as now, they had been subjected to a speculative gaze from the driver, but on that first occasion he had not fully understood why. The name of the club they had given as a destination had not been one that he had ever heard of. He had, however, heard of the reputations of clubs in the vicinity of Dupont Circle and had eventually realised that was where they were heading. He had been curious of Abby’s reasons for bringing him to such a place and though he had tried to conceal his bemusement, it must have been obvious to the people she had introduced him to. Even so, they had welcomed him and included him in their conversation until he had begun to feel more at ease and was then able to enjoy the evening. So much so, when they were saying their goodbyes and someone had asked if they would do it again the following week, he had only paused for Abby’s reply before adding his own positive response.

Glancing at her companion’s thoughtful expression, Abby was also thinking about their nights out and the small but progressive steps that had been made. Acting on something she believed might be true, she had deliberately taken DiNozzo to meet some of her other friends at one of the clubs they frequented to gauge his reaction and had not been disappointed. Soon shrugging off any initial discomfort, he had responded well to her introductions and eventually joined in the conversation with genuine warmth that had not gone unnoticed. With each return visit, she had witnessed DiNozzo allowing his innate curiosity to emerge a little further and was convinced that she had been right in assuming he had been repressing part of his sexuality. Not having such inhibitions, she had carefully monitored how he was being drawn to the culture he was surrounded by and was delighted by his acceptance in agreeing to try another venue, albeit that he had not known of its reputation.

As they pulled up at their destination DiNozzo paid the fare, then got out of the taxi and offered a hand to help Abby, all but pulling her out of the vehicle as her skirt was too tight for easy movement.

Re-linking arms as they walked to the club door, she said, “I wonder if Zach will be here tonight.”

“We’re not even in there yet and you‘re already thinking about other men? I’m wounded!”

“Well, it’s not like you want him for yourself!” she declared and lightly punched his arm.

“Abbs!” DiNozzo shook his head as he handed over the entrance fees.

“But you do like him.”Abby said, this time more serious. “Admit it.”

“He’s... I... Okay, I do like him, just... not the way that you... not that way.”

“Shame, because I know he likes you that way.”

“You are not going to get me to change my mind.” DiNozzo shook his head as they went along a corridor leading to the main room. “Besides which, he already knows it’s a ‘no’.”

“He does? You mean, he actually...”

“Hey, I meant to say something earlier.” DiNozzo changed the topic. “I received a text from Stefano just before I set out. He said it had been decided to go ahead with the C-Section. Should be taking place about now.”

“Ah, Tony!” Abby squeezed his arm. “They’re going to have a baby!”

“I think they kind of knew that.” He answered as he steered her around a small group of people standing at the edge of the dance floor and on towards the bar.

“Yes, but any time now they’ll be able to see it...”

“See her.”

“...and hold it...”

“Hold her.”

“...and...” Abby suddenly realised what he had been saying. “Her? How do you know?”

“Stefano showed me a picture of the scan thingummy. Definitely no little boy bits on show.”

“Aw, Tony, they’re going to have a baby girl! Now they’ll have to think of a pretty name...”

“Gulia.”

“... because she’ll need a name...”

“Gulia.” DiNozzo repeated as one of the three barmen came towards them.

“Julia?”

“Almost. G-U-L-I-A.” DiNozzo broke it down. “Think Italian.”

“Gulia.” Abby gave it a try.

“You’ve got it.” DiNozzo nodded approval and grinned. “Gulia Antonia Avelinni.”

“Antonia?”

“Don’t look at me! Name was decided before I came to DC.”

“Maybe one day you’ll be calling...”

“No.”

“No?” Abby was puzzled by the abruptness of his response.

“What would you like to drink?” the barman enquired.

“The usual for you, Abbs, or something different?” DiNozzo waited for her to decide.

“It’s a school night, so best to start with a Soda.”

“Make that two.” DiNozzo placed the order.

Part Three

Following after Abby as she made her way through the slowly but steadily increasing number of patrons that Spartac drew every night, DiNozzo was unsurprised to find himself led to one of the many booths positioned against the walls and slid along the bench to sit beside her. From here they had a good view of the large, almost cavernous and pillared room.
Taking a moment to glance around, he mused, “I don’t see any of the guys.”

Also casting an eye over those present, Abby agreed, “No, but it’s still early and I left word.”

“You did?” DiNozzo smiled in anticipation of their arrival. He had a fondness for Abby and was quite content with her company alone, but would be sure to enjoy the evening even more if the other members of their usual group joined them. Like most people, he had discovered and learned of gays and lesbians whilst growing up. Then, like many others, he had actually known such people and by that and other means, he had learned a little of their preferences and life styles. Unlike most people, he had also come into closer contact with the same because of the time he had spent with various police departments, which had given him a greater insight, but it was not until he had met Abby’s friends that he had gained a broader knowledge. Thanks to Mark, Simon and Paul, the three that he hoped would show up, his knowledge was continuing to expand and he was gradually beginning to learn about the various types of sub-cultures within that community.

Despite being open-minded he had, at first, felt out of his depth and been very self-conscious about how intriguing he had found their chosen life-styles. That they had so quickly became aware of this and had readily responded to his sometimes unvoiced curiosity was a cause of some chagrin to him, but they had gradually drawn from him the self-realisation and then hesitant admission that it was more than that. He wanted to know what it was like to be with another man. Wanted to say ‘yes’ to one of the many that had approached him. To experience what it could be like to...

At first thinking that Mark and James were together as a couple, they had laughingly informed him that a physical relationship between them would be doomed. His puzzled expression had gained the explanation that, whilst they were very fond of each other, they both had a marked preference to Bottom, which had led to his admittance that, though it was partly obvious, he wasn’t absolutely certain of all that the description entailed. Thanks to their openness he had learned a little more about Tops and Bottoms and the way they played, of scenes enjoyed by Dominants and Submissives and of Masters and Slaves with their preference for a more rigid structure. It had all sounded fascinating and he had wanted to ask more, particularly of Paul who admitted he was not only a Bottom, but also preferred to be Submissive. When asked, in turn, which of the roles and variations he thought held the most appeal, he had chosen not to answer, but it was Paul he had looked to.

That unspoken admission had been almost three weeks previous and he was still trying to understand why he felt that particular attraction. Prior to his introduction to Abby he had been reasonably comfortable with his sexuality and had only suspected that he might be bi-sexual. Now he was facing the belated realisation that it might be much more than that.

“Hey, Tony!” Abby nudged DiNozzo’s arm just as he raised his glass. Pulling a face as he wiped the spillage with a napkin, she quickly added, “The guy’s have arrived and Zach’s with them!”
~*~*~
Gibbs looked in the full length mirror, hardly recognising himself, it had been a long time since he had last donned such clothing. The soft, hip hugging, dark brown leather pants, matching waistcoat and white tee-shirt, all sat as comfortable on his person as a favourite pair of well worn gloves. It fit perfectly with his undercover persona but was not something he had needed to requisition, not when it had already been a part of his existing wardrobe. Albeit rarely used recently, it was just a little of like clothing that he possessed. Giving himself a moment to absorb the aura of the man he would portray, he picked up his car keys, flicked off a light switch and left the house in darkness.
~*~*~
Abby fondly smiled as she observed those on the dance floor. Beside her, James was chuckling softly. Playfully punching his arm, she admonished, “Stop that, it’s not nice!”

“He’s making a fool of himself.” James still sounded amused. “You can’t say he isn’t.”

Turning her gaze back to watching their friends, she saw Tony, Mark, Paul and Zach dancing to the heavy drum solo of the track playing and could not deny that James was right. For all that he was a good dancer, Tony was not responding favourably to Zach’s attempts to impress him. Shaking her head, she said, “He’s centred on the wrong guy. Now, if he tried that with Paul...”

“He wouldn’t know what to do with him!” James laughed. “Paul’s more into it than Zach. For all that he talks the talk, Zach is looking for someone with less experience so it doesn’t show that he doesn’t have as much as he’d like others to think he does. It’s just as well that Tony keeps turning him down because the last thing he needs for his first time is a Top or Dom that doesn’t understand how to treat him.”

“Good point.” Abby conceded, only too aware of someone who would know, someone who would be appearing shortly, but still asked. “Who do you think does stand a chance with Tony?”

“No-one he’s met yet.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked as their friends left the dance floor.

“I’ve watched the way he responds. On the surface he comes across as simply too self-conscious to say yes to anyone that’s tried asking, but I think the truth is, no-one’s really captured his interest in that way. Not yet.”

A linked conversation had obviously already begun with the others as, reaching their table, Mark was asking, “Will you ever accept one of the offers you receive, Tony, or make any of your own?”

Having taken more than a fair share of teasing about his repeated refusals, which had just been added to twice whilst dancing, DiNozzo shot an apologetic look at Zach before he wistfully replied; “If I felt a real attraction to the one doing the asking, I think I’ve just about built up the nerve to accept. As for making an approach, I’m not ready for that.”

“Well, it’s still progress.” Paul approved. “Are you tempted by anyone here tonight?”

“Not yet.” DiNozzo admitted. “What about you guys? Is there anyone here that tempts any of you?”

That resulted in the others scanning the room and a running commentary followed about the appeal or its sad lack, thereof, of others present that had Tony shaking his head and laughing. His own drink long gone and seeing others were also in need of refills, he stood up and said, “Who’s coming to the bar to give me a hand?”

As both Paul and James both got to their feet, Abby noticed the time and also got up.

“Are we all moving to the bar?” DiNozzo asked.

“No, I have to go.”

“Huh?” DiNozzo would go along with whatever she wanted, but he really wanted to stay longer.

“I’m sorry, Tony, but I got a call from Tamara after I called you this afternoon. She finally got up the nerve to ask this guy she likes to go on a date and he turned her down. She needs a shoulder to cry on.”

“You should have called me back and cancelled, I’d have understood.” DiNozzo stood back to let her clear the booth and said, “I guess we’ll see you guys again on Friday?”

“You’re staying here.” Abby informed him. “I don’t need you to take me. I can jump in a cab.”

DiNozzo was torn between insisting that he took her to wherever she was meeting Tamara and wanting to stay with the others. Though he and Abby often tended to wander away from each other during the course of their club evenings, they had always arrived and left together and he was unsure about remaining without her presence.

“I have to go or she’ll think I’m not going to show.” Abby cut into his thoughts. Walking away, she said, “Look after him for me, guys!”

As Paul and James placed protective arms around his shoulders and the others then got to their feet, DiNozzo smiled as he conceded, “I guess this means I’m staying and we’re all going to the bar.”


On her way along the corridor to the exit, Abby weaved her way between people both arriving and departing. Not by so much as a flicker of her eyes did she give any indication of being in the least acquainted with anyone in particular. Hurrying outside, she waved down a taxi and jumped inside. Giving the driver a destination, she sat back with a sigh of relief and hugged her raised knees.

Being privy to Gibbs’ solo investigation and also being personally involved in as far as being a friend of DiNozzo’s, she had all but begged to be a part of the undercover side as well. Gibbs’ adamant refusal had initially hurt her feelings, but now she fully understood why he had refused. The closer it had got to the time he had said he would arrive she had become more nervous and feared she would let something slip. Thankful now that he had suggested that she called Tamara and arrange to see her, she had not needed to over-stretch the lie that excused her departure and was certain that Tony would not suspect she was, again, setting him up. Hoping with all her heart that everything would turn out well, she brushed away the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek.


Entering the main room, Gibbs scanned the crowd and quickly spotted DiNozzo in the midst of a small group of men taking up space at the bar. Armed with the information being gained from the investigation, coupled with Abby sharing her shrewd insight, he already knew many things about DiNozzo and his past history, but it was his own ingrained ability to read people and situations that he would most be relying upon to guide him in the best way to handle the coming encounter and he briefly paused to observe his target.

Wearing a pale blue short sleeved shirt and navy blue denim jeans with his dark hair lightly spiked, DiNozzo looked more than handsome. Looking at ease as he leaned against the counter listening to his companions, the resulting smile at something that had been said was radiant and only served to increase the attraction. For once, instead of curtailing such thoughts or needing to mask his outward reaction, Gibbs allowed them free rein. Natural tendencies aside, he was, after all, posing as a Dom on the lookout for a Sub and, as such, he would certainly be surveying the gathering for any likely candidates.

Already having decided on several ways of conducting himself depending on the situation, Gibbs reached a decision on which to go with and unhurriedly made his way across the room.

Oblivious to the newcomer who was turning a few heads as he passed people by, Tony felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head to see who had touched him. His stomach flipped when he took in the sight of the man that was standing beside him wearing close fitting brown leather trousers and matching waistcoat over a white tee-shirt. Conscious of the toned body beneath the well-fitting, figure hugging garments, it was the man’s piercing blue eyes that took and held his attention. Aware that the eyes of his friends and more than a few others were taking in the silent scene with interest, he belatedly pulled his wits together and managed to say, “Was there something that you wanted?”

Almost smirking at the opening that had unwittingly been given to him, Gibbs was tempted to simply reply ‘Yes, you.’ Instead, he quietly stated, “Would you join me for a drink?”

Composure recovered and getting into the flirtatious feel of the invitation, DiNozzo replied, “My mama always told me not to accept gifts from strangers.”

“Are you always so obedient?” Gibbs nodded approval, before adding, “You can call me Gibson.”

“I’m Tony.” DiNozzo smiled. “If you’re still buying, I’ll have vodka.”

Of his four companions, the three who had known him longest were all surprised by the positive response. Almost disbelieving that DiNozzo had, finally, reacted to one of the many overtures he had received with such readily sounding acceptance, they looked on with growing interest.

“I’ll have bourbon,” Gibbs told the approaching bartender. “and a vodka for Tony.”

DiNozzo managed to prevent an instinctive flinch when the man’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“I’d like to sit down with you, Tony. There are some empty stools further along, or maybe you’d prefer to use one of the side booths.”

Trying to ignore their bemused expressions, DiNozzo said, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Mark exchanging a look with James, who merely shrugged, then turned to Paul.

Gaze hard, Paul halted his friend with the words, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing...”

“Hey, it’s just a drink...” DiNozzo smiled, not wanting to look into his actions any deeper.

“Tony?” Gibbs squeezed and released his shoulder, bringing DiNozzo’s attention back to himself.

Turning back, DiNozzo reached for the glass with the vodka but Gibson moved it out of range.

“I’ve got these. You find us a place to sit.”

“Later, guys.” DiNozzo nodded at his friends whilst deciding where to go. Wanting a little privacy, he moved away from the counter and headed for one of the vacant booths. It would still be visible to them, but with other patrons standing and moving around he would feel less under direct scrutiny.

Sparing only the briefest glance and ghost of a smile for the men left behind, Gibbs was close on DiNozzo’s heels and let his eyes wander over the figure he was following. Admiring the long legs and slight sway of hips as DiNozzo walked them around the dance floor, Gibbs eyes were drawn to the nicely shaped and tautly muscled bottom that the navy denim clung to like a second skin, having every intention of laying hands on bare skin before the evening was over.

Aware of more than three pairs of interested eyes focused on him as he slid along the semi-circular bench around the table, DiNozzo halted midway and waited for the other man to join him.

Gibbs put the glasses down and followed suit. Leaving a gap of only a few inches between them, he asked, “So, is Tony a full name, or short for something else? Anthony? Or perhaps Antonio?”

“Antonio?” DiNozzo was surprised that Gibson had picked up on that version of his name.

“You’ve got an Italian look to you.”

“It’s Anthony, but you were right about the Italian part. I am Italian. Is that a problem?”

Slightly tilting his head to the side, Gibbs asked, “Should it be?”

“My friends call me Tony.” DiNozzo dismissed the question with a smile. “What about you? Gibson is your surname, right? Do I get to know your first name?”

“Jeffrey. A few people have been known to call me Jeff, but I prefer Gibson or better still, Gibbs.”

“Don’t tell me.” DiNozzo cut in. “It’s a military thing. Military guys always use surnames.”

“Ex-marine.” Gibbs conceded, before asking, “What do you do for a living?”

“Nothing spectacular.” DiNozzo sighed, thinking of being desk-bound until Avelinni returned to duty. “At present I’m... clerical.”

“At present?” Gibbs responded, knowing that DiNozzo would not be admitting to being in law enforcement, not to someone he had only just met in one of the city’s most well known gay clubs.

“It can vary.” DiNozzo shrugged. “What about you?”

“Nothing since leaving the Marines, but I’m in no hurry to find something else.”

“Well, you don’t look old enough to be considering a permanent retirement.”

Going along with the slight change of topic, Gibbs asked, “How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“You don’t look thirty.” Gibbs stated, knowing it wasn’t quite true.

“Nearly thirty.”

“Nearly?”

“Okay, twenty-nine, but only until next month.” DiNozzo confessed. “How old are you?”

“Forty-three.”

“You don’t look forty-three.” DiNozzo echoed the sentiment, but he also meant it. There was a sprinkling of gray amidst the dark brown hair, but Gibson looked more like he was in his late thirties than early forties.

“Well, it won’t get any less, because I’m telling the truth.” Gibbs replied. “Is it a problem?”

“Should it be?” DiNozzo threw back the same answer he had gained earlier.

The small but disarming smile that followed allowed Gibbs a glimpse of the uncertainty beneath the projected facade and he slowly reached out.

His gaze locked with the other, DiNozzo felt a soft touch to his heated cheek and flinched.

Stilling the movement, Gibbs asked, “What’s wrong?

“Nothing’s wrong, I... It’s nothing. Really.”

“Just how new to this are you, Anthony?” Gibbs asked.

“I’ve been ‘clubbing’ for a few weeks.” DiNozzo answered, not admitting that the visits had yet to reach double figures and trying not to think of his club buddies, who would definitely be watching.

“And this?” Gibbs lightly touched the still warm cheek again. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Others have asked.” DiNozzo admitted. “But this is the only time I’ve agreed to... to a drink...”

“That’s good to know.” Gibbs nodded. “What about elsewhere?”

Almost able to feel the self-assurance that Gibson radiated, which only served to make his own self-doubt resurface, DiNozzo excused, “Look, you’re obviously disappointed, so I’ll just say thanks for the drink and leave you to find...”

“Oh, I’m not disappointed by you, Anthony.” Gibbs gripped DiNozzo’s shoulder to stop the attempt to move away and smiled as he added, “I just like to know exactly what I’m dealing with...”

“Well, I still think it would be best if I just left you to find someone more...”

“I’ll make allowances.” Gibbs squeezed the shoulder. “I’ll lower what I expect from you, for now.”

DiNozzo frowned, but had stopped trying to get up.

“We don’t exactly need to start again, Anthony, but let’s try getting to know each other a little.”

DiNozzo hesitated only slightly before making an agreeing nod, his stomach flipping over itself.

Sensing the other man’s barely contained nervousness, Gibbs watched as he reached for the vodka and quickly moved closer to intercept. Catching hold of the seeking hand as it picked up the sought after glass, he closed his own over it to hold it immobile and asked, “Did you want a drink?”

“Yes.” DiNozzo answered, conscious of the strong grip that held him still. His eyes darting towards the bar, he saw that Simon and Paul were obviously observing what was happening. Equally obvious, was their poorly restrained amusement and lack of any apparent concern for his well being.

Gibbs drew the glass holding hand to his mouth and, without losing eye contact, lightly touched his lips to the back of it. He then moved their hands to DiNozzo’s mouth and held it there until the gesture was copied. Bringing the hands back to his mouth, he repeated the action, but this time with more pressure and allowed his tongue to trace along a small rapidly pulsing vein.

DiNozzo gulped as they then travelled back towards his own mouth, anticipating that he would be expected to again imitate the action. Instead, he felt the chilled glass touch his lips and refocused his attention until he was able to meet and hold the other man’s piercing blue-eyed gaze.

“Drink.”. A single word directive.

Accepting the small amount of liquid that slowly poured from the tilted glass into his mouth, DiNozzo quickly swallowed and was ready for another sip when the glass was returned to the table. Watching as Gibbs lifted and almost drained his own glass, he said, “I hadn’t finished.”

“Neither had I.” Gibbs replied, taking Tony’s hand away from the glass, he raised it again and took the tips of the two middle fingers into his mouth to lightly nibble at them. He was pleased by the resulting large intake of breathe and wide eyed expression that DiNozzo wore. Satisfied, he released his grip of the other man’s hand and moved his own back to DiNozzo’s mouth and slowly edged one fingertip, then two inside. Waiting unto DiNozzo began to nibble and then, hesitantly, begin to gently suck, he slowly pulled them free, saying, “Finish your drink, Anthony.” Waiting for DiNozzo to comply, he added, “I’ll get us another and then we’re going on the floor.”

Watching the man stand, DiNozzo suddenly lost some of the ‘feel good’ aura that had enveloped him and swallowed hard before quickly saying, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe you really should look for someone else...”

“Why?”

“I’m not what you’re looking for. I’m not at my best ...taking orders,..
it goes against my nature...”

“I haven’t been giving you orders, but...”

“But you will if I stick around and I really don’t think I can...”

“I have been giving you instructions...”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Which you have been following without any problems.”

“Have not!” DiNozzo refuted the claim and then challenged, “Like what?”

“Like finding us a place to sit.”

“That was a suggestion, not an instruction.”

“No it wasn’t.” Gibbs pointed out and watched as DiNozzo went over the wording of the ‘request’ in his head, only to realise it had not been posed as the suggestion he had thought it was. “You also returned the kiss to my hand.”

“You didn’t exactly tell me to do that...”

“Not all instructions will be verbal.” Gibbs informed him. “Body language can also suffice.”

DiNozzo narrowed his gaze as he mulled over what he was being told.

“You drank when I wanted you to.”

“You didn’t say I should...” DiNozzo sighed. “You’re going to say you used body language, right?”

“You took my fingers into your mouth...”

“All right, I get the picture!” DiNozzo felt the heat rise inside him, sure he was blushing.

“You finished your drink when told to.”

“I said I get it!” DiNozzo self-consciously threw back, but before the short sentence was complete he found himself talking to empty space as Gibbs was already on his way to the bar.


Reaching the counter close to the area where DiNozzo’s friend still stood, Gibbs did not need to look to know that he was under their observation. He placed his order with a barman before giving them a brief glance. The Top amongst them was staring with an almost envious expression, whilst from the others he received a knowing smile, a lascivious wink and, from the last but most welcome, a slight nod of approval.

Watching as drinks were provided that, this time, were served in tall glasses, DiNozzo saw Gibson begin to head back and quietly muttered, “Guess you’ll be going back on the dance floor, Anthony!”


Returning, Gibbs was still on his feet when DiNozzo reached for the nearest soda and began to take a long, appreciative drink. Interrupting the action, he said, “Save some for later, you’ll need it.”

“Huh?” DiNozzo mumbled as he swallowed and lowered the half emptied glass to the table.

“It’s time.” Gibbs informed him and held out a hand.

Though he had known the other man had been serious and he had mockingly admitted to himself that he would oblige, now that it came to it, DiNozzo was reluctant to get to his feet.

“Something wrong” Gibbs asked, seeing as well as sensing the uncertainty.

“No.” DiNozzo quickly refuted, swallowing hard and standing up as he reached his decision.

Gibbs stood his ground to prevent DiNozzo stepping out from behind the table.

Puzzled, DiNozzo said, “I thought you wanted to dance?”

Gibbs remained silent and maintained eye contact until DiNozzo finally got the message. Feeling the tentative touch, he turned his hand around to firmly grasp the others and took a step back to let him move away from the table.

Pausing when they came side by side, DiNozzo found the hand that gripped his own move to slide behind him, resting against his waist. The lower part of his own arm taken with it, he found himself pulled closer and being guided forward as Gibson began to walk through the gaps of standing people until they had reached the dance floor. Easing his hold by bringing their hands forward again, he quietly enquired, “Are you all right with this?”

Considering the question, DiNozzo lightly frowned. Was he all right with this? With belatedly becoming aware of a deeply buried side of his sexuality? With finding the nerve to repeatedly revisit gay venues? With finally finding someone he was genuinely attracted to? With agreeing to ... dance?

“Anthony?”

“Fine.” DiNozzo answered, not sure what he was replying to. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Gibbs nodded. “Let’s find ourselves a little space.”

Led to a small clearing close to one of the many pillars that circled the floor, DiNozzo again came to a standstill as they reached the place Gibson wanted and was a little regretful as he felt his hand released. Before he could question why that was, he was pulled face to face with the other man and felt two strong arms encircle his waist. Caught in a firm embrace he lifted his arms and for a moment was at a loss. When slow dancing with a woman he would have placed his arms around her waist and waited for hers to lightly clasp behind his neck, but Gibson’s hold precluded being able to do that. Feeling awkward, he raised his arms and linked his hands behind the other man’s neck. A neck that felt as strong as the arms around him and implied equal strength in the rest of his body, a body that was now encouraging him to match its movements that were perfectly timed to the music playing. A body that was almost wrapped around him and pressed close, so close it felt real good and was getting better by the moment...
~*~*~
Sitting on a high-backed stool in a second floor apartment, Abby swung her legs back and forth whilst she waited for the sole occupant to add the finishing touches to her outfit. Unfortunately aware of how long that could take, her thoughts drifted back to leaving Spartac and the friends that she had left there. Wondering what they were all doing, but some more than others, she was startled by the sudden blaring of her cell phone ringtone. Flipping the cell, she said; “Who’s that?”

“Is that any way to greet your good buddy?”

“James!” Abby smiled, then sobered. “Why have you rang? What’s wrong...”

“Way to make a guy feel welcome, Abby! Why do you think there’s anything wrong?”

“Because it’s not that long since I left you all and there has to be a reason for you calling.”

“I just thought you’d be interested in knowing what I’m seeing. In fact, I know you’d be interested, which is why I’ve already taken some shots with my cell’s camera, though I...”

“Just stop teasing and tell me!”

“...wanted to get a few shots for myself...”

“James!”

“Tony’s on the dance floor.”

“You rang to tell me he’s dancing? I know he looks good when he moves, but I’ve seen him...”

“Not like this you haven’t!”

“What this? This what? Speak!”

“With a hot looking guy who looks like he’s ready to eat him!”

Surprised that Tony had gone from refusing all on-comers to this in the short amount of time she had been away, but very aware of who else was now there, she asked, “Is it with anyone we know?”

“I know a few here that would like to, but no. Besides, he’s fully centred on Tony!”

“He is? Tell me more! No, wait, first tell me what this guys looks like. Describe him to me...”
~*~*~
...Gibbs had been and was still aware of DiNozzo’s attraction to him and, truth be told, he felt the same. He had sensed the not fully concealed nervousness and uncertainty and had reacted accordingly, doing as he thought best to keep DiNozzo interested and intrigued and to prevent him from bolting. He had also known that beneath it all, DiNozzo was slowly turning on to the situation. Proof, if needed, was provided by the slight swelling encountered by his hip when they had begun to dance and he was careful to ensure that his own movements would further encourage the response. Aware of the increasing physical manifestation, he held fast as DiNozzo abruptly, almost predictably, tried to break contact.

Bringing his arms down in an attempt to push against Gibson and gain a bit of space, but failing as there was insufficient room between them to slip in his hands, DiNozzo urged, “Back off a little. I need a moment or two...”

“I don’t think so.” Gibbs denied the request and adeptly manoeuvred DiNozzo backwards.

“You don’t thin...” the air was abruptly dispelled from DiNozzo’s lungs as he was backed against one of the pillars. About to protest, he was halted by the thumb that was placed against his lips.

Exerting gentle pressure until the touched mouth slightly opened and he could edge his thumb inside, Gibbs encouraged him to take it in a little further and held it there until he felt a tentative tongue brush against it. Partway satisfied, he moved his other hand, trailing it down to trace an asymmetrical pattern over the heaving chest and stomach muscles, before resting over stretched denim to lightly cup the bulge that was fast growing and becoming more apparent.

Embarrassed at being held so intimately, convinced that everyone present was aware of his steadily increasing erection, DiNozzo tried to pull away. Sandwiched between the hard pillar behind him and the unmoveable object that was Gibson in front, he was unable to get free without a more forceful effort. All the time, the hand cupping him was moving and adding pressure.

Sensing the inner conflict, Gibbs leaned forward and quietly coaxed, “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Anthony, let it happen. “

DiNozzo held out for as long as he could and then, as the sensation mounted, he ceased to care that they were standing on the edge of a crowded dance floor. With a small groan of surrender, he pushed back against the enfolding hand.

Inwardly smiling, Gibbs wiggled his thumb against the moist tongue beneath it and said, “Suck it for me, Anthony. Suck it as hard as you’d like me to touch you.”

Another soft moan sounded as DiNozzo started to suck on the thumb in time to the almost subconscious gyration of his hips.

“Good boy. Keep it up, keep going.” Gibbs coaxed, moving the thumb back and forth whilst the other hand grasped and squeezed. “Don’t fight it, Anthony. Go with it, feel it, and let it happen.”

DiNozzo had never experienced anything that had affected him like this. Almost drowning in the sea of sensation that was mounting and rapidly washing over him, he was beginning to gasp for air. Sucking on the moving thumb in his mouth as though it was his only provider of oxygen, his hips thrust forward and swaying as he struggled to crest the next wave, he suddenly lost balance and was toppling down, crashing ...and coming...

Waiting until the throes of orgasm had calmed a little, Gibbs moved his hands to encircle DiNozzo as he began to sag and pulled him forward.

Feeling weakened and totally out of it, DiNozzo returned the tight embrace and held on as he drew a few large, much needed breathes in a struggle to regain, at least partly, his lost composure. A few seconds later, he moistened dry lips and mumbled, “That was... it was... unbelievable... It was... too much... ”

Pleased with the obvious effect he had engineered, Gibbs shushed, “It’s all right, Anthony. Take a moment. There’s no rush. I’ve got you. I’m not letting go until you’ve got it back, so take your time.”

Long seconds passed whilst DiNozzo both savoured the afterglow and worked on regulating his erratic breathing. When the latter had been steady for a while, he felt the embrace loosen and adjust until one arm was removed. The other securely slipping behind his waist as Gibson moved to his side, he was tugged and guided away from the dance floor back to the previously used booth.

Ushering DiNozzo along the bench and sitting beside him, Gibbs pulled him back into a single arm embrace and placed the glass holding his unfinished soda into his hand. The man was still part wrecked and not fully with it, so he gave the amused instruction, “Drink it down. All of it.” Waiting until the glass had emptied, he lightly grasped DiNozzo’s chin and turned his face to gain his full attention before softly saying, “That was a small taste of what we could have. If you want more, with me, I’ll be here again on Friday.” He had not expected an immediate answer but DiNozzo’s pupils had blown again and he was obviously turning on at the thought, so Gibbs pushed it further; “We’ll spend most of the evening here at the club, but it would be even better if we spent time together somewhere without other distractions. Are you free this weekend?”

Part Four

“That was a small taste of what we could have. If you want more, with me, I’ll be here again on Friday..... We’ll spend most of the evening here at the club, but it would be even better if we spent time together somewhere without other distractions. Are you free this weekend?”

The softly spoken words replayed in his thoughts and DiNozzo wanted to say ‘yes’ but he had never met this man before and forced caution to the fore. Gibson was handsome with a body to match, but all he knew about him, assuming it was the truth, was his name, age, and previous career. The other thing he also knew was that he had just been given an experience like no other he had ever known and he wanted more. Tentatively, he asked, “What would it entail?”

“We’d get to spend some time together in private and... you’d get the chance to explore and sample a little more of what it’s like to be with a Dom... If you think you can handle it?”

Not rising to the baited challenge, DiNozzo cautiously replied, “That’s a loaded question.”

“It’s a free choice. You can say yes or no.”

“What if the answer is ambiguous? What if I need to know more before making a decision?”

“Ambiguous is understandable.” Gibbs replied. “You obviously need time to think about it.”

“Oh, I definitely need more time.” DiNozzo agreed. “I’m not really up to it right now.”

“It’s almost midnight, so you have all of tomorrow and most of Friday to decide.” Gibbs replied.

“That less than forty-eight hours.”

“I’m not asking you to move in with me, Anthony, just to spend some time together. How hard can it be?” Gibbs stated without infliction. Seeing by the expressive gaze he was receiving that his offer was being seriously considered, he added, “On Friday, go straight home from work. Freshen up and put together what you need to see you through the weekend and for work on Monday. Then meet me here, no later than 8pm.”

Thinking of the sometimes unexpected demands of his job, DiNozzo said, “What if I’m late, or don’t show...”

“Then we’ll never mention it again, but maybe we’ll occasionally see each other here at the club.” Gibbs informed him as he got to his feet. Stepping out of the booth, he said, “It’s time to call it a night.”

“You’re leaving?” DiNozzo tried to keep the disappointment from sounding. “It’s still early.”

“Doesn’t matter what time it is, Anthony. Besides, you’re going home as well.”

“I am?” DiNozzo threw back at him. “I mean, why am I? Why should I...”

“Because there’s no way you’re staying here without me. Not tonight, not with others knowing we ...danced...” Gibbs threw back meaningfully. “Besides, if you aren’t already, then you must be starting to feel uncomfortable and you’re definitely not going to be using the facilities here to get cleaned up.”

Heat flooded DiNozzo’s face at the very unnecessary reminder that he had come in his pants. He had been doing his best not to fidget, but if they were not having this conversation he would already have excused himself to go to the john and tried to tidy up a little. As it was, the cooled semen was pooled around his groin and soaking into the front of his boxers. Hoping the dampness had not yet passed through to his jeans, he stated, “I can watch my own back, Gibs. Been doing it for years.”

“I don’t doubt it, but if I’m not with you there’ll be others here thinking they can try their luck and I won’t tolerate that.” Gibbs threw back and locked their gaze.

The intensity of the look combined with the possessive statement set butterflies flying in DiNozzo’s stomach. Self-consciously moving his right hand to cover the area of his jeans that was in danger of becoming stained, he stood up and Gibson lightly, but firmly, grasped his left wrist.

Leading DiNozzo away from the table towards the exit, Gibbs momentarily paused to say, “Your friends are watching, Anthony. You should wave goodnight to let them know you’re all right.”

“Bastard.” DiNozzo cussed, knowing to raise his other hand would reveal the darkening patch on his jeans that he knew was beginning starting to show.

“Yeah, it’s what the ‘b’ in Gibson stands for.” Gibbs grinned, waiting for him to comply before moving on.

~*~*~

Abby had spent the remainder of her evening enjoying a girl’s night out with Tamara and a few others they had managed to round up at short notice. The mix of chatter and dancing had provided enough of a distraction to prevent her from dwelling too deeply on what was happening at Spartac. Too exhausted by the time she had got home to think about Gibbs and Tony, she had been climbed into bed and soon fallen into a heavy sleep. The next morning, however, it was a quite different matter. Waking early and abruptly recalling the part she had played the previous evening, she wanted further updates and anxiously waited for one of the boys to ring or otherwise come up with the goods.

Now in her lab, with curiosity and anxiety levels still high as she switched on the various machines, she heard her cell phone as it buzzed for attention with an incoming text and rushed over to pick it up. A quick glance informing her who it was from, she eagerly opened the message:

Morning, sweetie, I know you must be waiting for the gossip but I’ve had a long night. Off to bed now so DO NOT call. To keep you going, will be sending some of the tell-tale pics taken. Later... J xxx

Wondering how James had spent the earlier hours if he was only just now getting home, she was not kept waiting for very long before her phone buzzed several times over to indicate it was receiving the photographs.

~*~*~

Another person who had also arrived at the Naval Yard early was now booting up his own computer in readiness to go over Burley’s work later and see if he had discovered anything more of note. Entering his password and waiting for full access to be gained, he collapsed the windows, picked up the caffeine laden beaker collected from his favourite shop on the way into work and walked out of the bullpen. Taking the stairs instead of the now busy elevator to the basement, Gibbs allowed his thoughts to go back over the previous evening.

...Leaving Spartac still firmly grasping a wrist, he had led an unresisting DiNozzo outside and flagged down a passing cab. His free hand briefly squeezing the other man’s damp groin as he ushered him inside and closed the door, he had then tapped on the roof and it had pulled away. Watching as the vehicle took a left turn in the direction of the motel at which he knew the detective was staying, he was satisfied that DiNozzo was actually doing as he had been told. Feeling pleased, he headed for his parked car and was soon journeying to his own home.

Easily able to clear his mind of unwanted thoughts and only think about his evening at the club, he realised that the half-promise he had made to himself had not been kept. For all that he had certainly made a good start in the intended seduction of Anthony DiNozzo, he had not laid hands on his bared flesh. Looking forward to putting that to right as they got better acquainted, he recalled the feel of the firm body hidden beneath figure hugging clothes and the pleasing physical responses that had been elicited. Having good control of his own body responses he had been able to keep his own reaction banked down, but once stretched out comfortably in his bed he had replayed each touch and stroked himself into a very satisfying orgasm before gradually fallen into a restful sleep...

Now in full work-mode, confident that his success in initiating a connection to DiNozzo would, in turn, enable him to discover if the cop had a connection to his father’s illegal business dealings, he walked through the door to Abby’s domain. Briefly wondering about the lack of music, he saw the lab tech standing in front of a computer monitor, apparently enrapt by what she was viewing. Side-stepping until he could clearly see what was holding her attention, he recognised the two men on screen and snapped, “Where the hell did you get those!?”

Startled and twirling towards the accusatory voice, Abby yelped, “A friend sent them to me!”

“Abby.” Gibbs narrowed his eyes, not prepared to be messed with.

“He did!” Abby insisted, wondering how else he thought she had got them. “He sent them to my cell this morning after taking them at the club last night.”

“He, who?” Gibbs wanted to know who had been up that close and almost too personal.

“James. You would have seen him last night. He’s a friend of Tony’s too...”

“Probably one of the men that were at the bar with DiNozzo.” Gibbs nodded, realising, that if not totally innocent, neither was it something sinister. Merely a friend of Abby’s and DiNozzo’s taking interest into what, by his own admission, was DiNozzo’s first foray into actually doing something with another man. Taking another moment to look at the images of himself and the detective leaning against a pillar and fixating momentarily on the detective’s dreamy expression, he belatedly chastised her, “Get those damn pictures down!”

Grinning, Abby closed the windows, not saving them to a file, without a word of grumble. Not that it mattered, since she still had them on the memory card of her cell! Knowing that Gibbs would expect no less from her, she cheekily said, “Those photo’s are hot!”

Gaining no verbal response, she added, “You could make good money selling them...”

“Abby.” Gibbs calmly and softly interrupted her.

“Well, you could! If they were to get put out on the net...”

“Abby!” Gibbs snapped with more heat in his voice and shot her a warning glance to go with it.

“Hey, I’m only saying! Besides, I already told you, I didn’t take them.”

“If you think there’s a chance this ‘James’ guy would do something like putting them....”

“He wouldn’t...”

“It crossed your mind. How can you be sure he won’t think of doing it?”

“Because he’s my friend and I know my friends well, Gibbs. He may not know you or owe you anything, but he’s a friend of Tony’s and though he may tease him a lot, he wouldn’t deliberately do anything to hurt him.”

“You’re pretty sure of your friends, Abby.”

“I am and don’t you forget it. Don’t forget that Tony’s a friend, too...”

Briefly wondering how many more times Abby would feel the need to restate her friendship with DiNozzo and whether or not he needed to remind her of the reason why he was being investigated, Gibbs realised that they would be going in never decreasing circles and shook his head. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, “Is James the only one you’ve heard from about last night?”

“Oh, I’m sure the other guys will be in touch... but you didn’t mean them, did you?”

“You’re the one who keeps saying what good friends you are.” Gibbs deadpanned.

“If he doesn’t call me before I go home, I’ll try contacting him this evening...”

“Is that a good idea?” Gibbs deflected, not sure he wanted her to know more than the fact that they had been on the dance floor, close and ...personal... as the photographs clearly revealed.

“Tony knows the guys would be sure to tell me all about it and he knows me well enough to know that I’d demand to know the details.” Abby countered. “Though, you could always tell me yourself?”

“I could.” Gibbs admitted. “But I’ll leave that up to DiNozzo.”

“Gibbs!” Abby pouted. Aware that Tony would probably heavily edit his side of the conversation, not that Gibbs was likely to elaborate very much on the good stuff, she gave an exaggerated sigh. Then, all teasing aside, she realised that Gibbs, consciously or otherwise, was actually protecting Tony’s sensibilities by leaving it to the other man to decide what to say and reveal. Equally, by doing so, he was leaving himself open to more than he may have wished to be discussed and known. Without any hesitance, she leaned over and placed a kiss on Gibbs’s cheek.

Pulling back a little as he traced the spot, Gibbs asked, “What was that for?”

“Just for being you!” Abby broadly smiled and turned back to her work.

Wondering if he’d ever understand more about the workings of her mind, but liking what he did, Gibbs shook his head and offered, “I’ve got spare time on my hands. If you could use some help...”

~*~*~

Closing one case file and reaching for another, DiNozzo tried to stifle a tired yawn. Usually able to sleep almost anywhere and at any time, it had all but eluded him the previous night and he had only caught a few snatches that had hardly granted him sufficient rest. Try as he might he had not been able to fully switch off his thoughts and imagining how it might have been if Gibson hadn’t treated him like Cinderella and insisted that he left the club before midnight. The analogy brought a small, secretive smile to his face before slightly altering his line of thought. If he was ‘Cinderella,’ did that make Gibson his Prince Charming? Well, he had certainly charmed his way into getting a positive reaction to his offer of a drink and... Wait. Back up. What was he thinking? No way! The taxi may have had a loose analogy to a horse drawn coach, but he was definitely not Cinderella!!

“Hey, Tony, you gonna eat that?”

“Eat what?” DiNozzo looked over at Cohen with a puzzled frown.

“The doughnut you haven’t touched. What else did you think?”

“I didn’t think...” DiNozzo floundered, trying to get his act together. “I wasn’t thinking anything...”

“Christ, kid, you’re really not with it today. Did you have a hard night or something?”

As Cohen reached out and swiped the doughnut for himself and took a large bite, DiNozzo lifted his head in time to see him sucking flakes of sugary icing from his fingers and convulsively swallowed as he recalled Gibson nibbling on his own fingers and then doing the same to his. The same and then a little later... Putting his fingers or thumb into his partner’s mouth as a prelude to sex was something that he had never thought of doing and would never have occurred to him. Accepting another man’s fingers into his mouth had felt strange and very intimate. When things had become even more intimate and that thumb had started moving whilst the hand holding him had gently squeezed and manipulated... What was it with the thumb? It had been one of the hottest, most intense things he had ever known and he had ardently suckled like his life had depended on it...

“Hey! Tony! Are you okay, kid?” Cohen frowned at him. “You’re looking a little flushed...”

“What? No, I’m okay. I am. I’m just a little bit...” Realising he was practically babbling as he tried to pull himself together, he took a deep breath and said, “Being stuck behind this desk is getting to me and I need a break from these files. Think I’ll go on a coffee run and get some more doughnuts.”

“You didn’t touch any from the last batch.” Peterson gave him a curious look.

“I know, but I’ll be going without all day unless we get some more.” DiNozzo cheekily threw back. “And since I can’t see either of you hurrying to volunteer, I guess that leaves it to me.”

“Make it the ones with lots of raspberry jam.” Cohen nodded, licking away the last of the icing.

Free of the spell now that the associated memory had played out, DiNozzo nodded agreement.

~*~*~

Still running various tests for other teams as well as the work being done for Gibbs, Abby had appreciated his offer to assist but preferred to handle most of it by herself to ensure nothing would be over-looked, which was a definite possibility when things were segmented. She did, however, relish that Gibbs was spending so much work time with her and was pleased when he had decided to stay and use one of her computers to trawl through more newspaper articles on the DiMarco’s.

Making the most of his company she managed to draw a little conversation from him, but despite her best efforts, other than saying she had done well, he avoided any other kind of elaboration on the events of the previous evening. Far from satisfied with the sparse details that she possessed and determined to find out more, she said, “So, you’re going to Spartac again, right?”

Undercover or not, the fact was that Abby used the club and knew many of its patrons, so there was little point in trying to keep secret what she would find out for herself, if not hear it from others. With that in mind and aware that she would not totally give up trying to get more from him, Gibbs half smiled as he replied, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“And you’ll be seeing Tony?”

“Yes.” Gibbs answered laconically, thinking of the photographs she had been viewing.

“Well, of course you will, but what happens now?”

Aware that she was voicing her racing thoughts, Gibbs silently waited for her to finish.

“I mean, it was already arranged that we’d meet up with the guys on Friday. If one of us didn’t make it, the rest would still go, so...”

“So, you still go.”

“Won’t that be a problem? I mean, the others saw you last night, but I wasn’t there, so...”

“As you keep telling me, your friends aren’t likely to keep it to themselves, so chances are that some time before tomorrow night you’ll have heard all about it.”

Abby nodded.

“So, you’ll have heard of me and when I show up you’d be curious to see the man Tony had ... danced with.”

Another vigorous nod accompanied by a big smile.

“Can you play it as strangers?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I can try.” Abby looked uncertain. “What if I let something slip? I’m not...”

“Then we play it as having met at one of the clubs, that we’re on nodding and name terms, friendly but not deeply acquainted. Can you manage that?”

“I think so. I think I can do that. Yes, I can do that.”
“Good girl.” Gibbs smiled.


Only a short time passed before Gibbs stated that it was time for more coffee and had promised another Caf-Pow would also be supplied. Caffeine addiction was just one more thing amongst many that they shared. Eagerly looking forward to her next fix, she was distracted by the buzzing of her cell phone and picked it up. The number for the caller on display, she smiled as she greeted, “Tony!”

“Abby, how you doing?”

“I’m good. Got the troops working away to find me the answers I’m looking for.”

“Captain Comparison Microscope behaving himself more than Major Mass Spec?” he teased.

“What have I told you about disrespecting my boys?”

On his way back to the forensics lab, Gibbs could hear Abby talking. From her speech pattern, it was obviously to someone not present, which implied that a telephone conversation was taking place. As he entered he realised it was a personal call and trod quietly so as not to intrude.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to upset them!” DiNozzo chuckled. “Guess you’re busy then?”

“I’m never too busy to have a chat with you, Tony!” Abby deliberately used his name, having seen Gibbs and wanting him to know who she was talking with. “So, tell me why you’ve called.”

Using ASL, Gibbs silently signed that he would like to listen in on the conversation.

“Oh, well, I... just wanted to hear a friendly voice before I went back to my desk.”

Smiling and shaking her head to Gibbs request, Abby asked, “So, where are you now?”

“Just been out to buy more doughnuts. You wouldn’t believe how many those guys get through!”

Shaking his own head, Gibbs nonetheless stood quite close to her, but could only faintly hear the tone of a soft voice and was unable to differentiate individual words.

“Oh, I think I would.” The sugar high was not her preference, but Abby had easily compared the confection to caffeine. “So, now tell me why you’ve really called.”

“I was just wondering if you had a good time with Tamara last night.”

“Nice try, Tony. Yes, I had a cool evening. Now, tell me the truth.”

“The truth? Well, I, er... I had what you might call a ...good... evening as well.”

“You did? Spill the beans! But before you do, you should know I’ve already heard from James!”

“You have? Of course you have. I should have guessed one of them would have...”

“Tony! Stop deflecting and... Tell. Me. Now.” Abby demanded. There was a long pause before she heard a deeply inhaled breath followed by a rush of words.

“I went back on the dance floor.”

“C’mon, Tony, I already know you love dancing, so that’s not exactly news-worthy.” Abby was mentally visualising the photographs.

“It wasn’t with the others.”

Even if she had not already been informed by James, Abby was aware that as much as Tony loved to dance, he did not like to dance alone, so it was only natural to ask, “Who was it with?”

“Gibson.” The name was spoken softly and with obvious hesitation. “Jeffrey Gibson. He bought me a drink and we also... had a dance together.”

“That’s great! What’s he like? Are you seeing him again? Hey, wait a minute,” Abby paused and made direct eye contact with the man in question. “You said Gibson and I know a Gibson. I haven’t seen him around for a while, but if it’s who I think it is, he’s cool.”

Only clearly hearing Abby’s side of the conversation but able to guess that context of what was being said to her, Gibbs nodded his approval of her response and continued to observe and listen.

“You do? He is?” DiNozzo didn’t realize his relief had seeped into his tone. “That’s good to know.”

“So you are seeing him again?”

“Said he’d be at Spartac tomorrow, but...” DiNozzo paused. “I’m not sure what I should do...”

“If you’ve changed your mind, just tell him so.” Abby advised, smiling at Gibbs’ expression. “But if really like him and it’s just that you’re feeling nervous, then take things slow. Give yourself the chance to talk with the guy and get to know him a little better before you agree to ... dance.”

“Abs!” DiNozzo’s indignation was not totally feigned and was matched by Gibb’s raised eyebrows.

“Gotta go now, Tony.” Abby wanted to leave him thinking about it. “I’ll see you tomorrow. No need to pick me up, I’ll meet you there. Bye!”

~*~*~

Though situated in a bustling open plan office, DiNozzo had shut out the distractions and poured his concentration into looking through the files and, by late afternoon, had managed to get through several. Feeling pleased with the small list of leads he had discovered that, if pursued, might be enough to re-open two of the cases, he threw down his pen and raised his arms to stretch tired muscles. Sensing he was being observed, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Dan Peterson had returned and was gazing his way. Having the distinct impression that the man disliked him without knowing why, he ventured, “Hey, Danny, how’s it go today?”

“It feels like we’re being given the run-around and doing nothing more than chasing our tails.” Peterson grumbled, closing the gap to sit behind a nearby desk. “We’ll be out there doing the same thing tomorrow and through the weekend at this rate.”

DiNozzo had already overheard the captain say they could kiss goodbye to their weekend if they hadn’t come up with anything solid on their case by the end of Friday, so winced in sympathy. If it had been something major he would have understood the need to put in the hours, but it was a simple drug case they were working and pretty minor at that. According to a few others, if it had it not been for a dealer trying to peddle at the college campus the captain’s nephew stayed on, it was possible that the over-time would not have been authorised. Not knowing the captain well enough to know if that bore any truth, but now appreciating why Peterson appeared to be in a sour mood, DiNozzo was about to ask where Cohen was when a large brown bag was placed on his desk.

“Here you go, kid. Help yourself and stop saying that I never bring any in!”

“I know how much you like them,” DiNozzo groaned, not needing to look inside. “But don’t you ever buy anything other than Doughnuts? I mean, a pizza would make a nice change. One with extra sausage, cheese and pepperoni...”

“Hey, if you don’t want a doughnut...” Cohen slowly reached for the bag.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want one!” DiNozzo quickly snatched one before it was taken away. “I just said a pizza...”

“Would be nice. You said so, already.” Peterson interrupted, out of patience with the banter.

“What is it with you and pizza, Tony?” Cohen was enjoying the exchange of mild insults and so ignored his partner’s scowl. “Anyone would think you were Italian or something!”

“Oh, that’s funny, real funny. What clue made you realise I have Italian blood in my veins?”

“Well, you’re called DiNozzo and you like pizza. I put the two together and being a good detective, the best in the precinct, I came up with the conclusion that you’re probably Italian...”

“Knock it off!” Peterson snapped. “We need to get our reports updated if we have any hope of getting out of here on time!”

“If you learned to use a finger on both hands to type, you’d get it done quicker!”Cohen shot back, winked at a grinning Italian and then sat back to enjoy eating a doughnut.

Keeping his head down to avoid looking at Peterson until he could look less amused, DiNozzo was grateful for the sudden ringing of his cell phone. Accepting the call, he swung his chair around as he said, “You’re through to Anthony DiNozzo...”

“Tony...”

“Paul?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” DiNozzo cautiously responded. He had been more than half expecting calls from his club buddies all day, but had hoped not to have anyone else within hearing range at the time. Trying to sound casual to listening ears, he said, “How are you?”

“You left without coming over to say goodbye last night. Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” DiNozzo kept the reply short, hoping Paul would realise he was unable to talk freely.

“Do you have anything planned for tonight?”

“No.”

“Then it’s okay if I come to visit?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be there by 7.30. Bye for now.”

“Bye.” DiNozzo twisted the chair back and hung up.

“Problem?” Cohen mumbled around the food he was chewing.

“No, not at all. Got a friend coming round to watch tonight’s game with me.” DiNozzo cheekily smiled as he added, “I bet he brings pizza!”

~*~*~

Stopping off on the way to the motel to pick up a few groceries in case he needed to put together a meal, DiNozzo was later getting back than usual. Quickly taking a shower and changing into sweats and a faded t-shirt, he had just enough time to fill a bag with worn clothes that the motel’s laundry service would take care of before the door was knocked. Leaving the bag leaning against the wall in the bathroom ready for dropping off the next morning, he went to the door to admit his visitor.

“Hi, Tony.”

“Paul,” DiNozzo warily smiled, aware he would be subjected to a question and answer session. Then again, if it was going to take place at all, he preferred it to be with Paul than any of the others. Opening the door wider, he invited, “C’mon in, make yourself comfortable.”

“I don’t know if you’ve had anything yet, but I’ve brought pizza.”

“That’s great, saves me from burning pans trying to cook something for us.” DiNozzo sniffed the aroma coming from the box with appreciation. “I’ll just get a couple of beers from the fridge.”

Noting the pile of books and magazines that were on a small table beside one of the easy chairs, Paul claimed the one next to it and sat down. Placing the box on the coffee table in front of the two chairs and opening it, he took a slice of pizza and began to eat.

Handing over an opened bottle of nicely chilled beer, DiNozzo sank into the chair nearest the books. Feeling edgy about the topic that would be raised, he helped himself to a slice took a large bite, hoping to delay it a while longer.

Having no such qualms, Paul asked, “Did you spend the night together?”

Almost choking mid-swallow, DiNozzo snapped, “No!”

“Defensive, much?” Paul smirked, amused by the reaction. “It was an innocent question.”

“Like hell, it was! Chrissakes, Paul, I knew I was going to get this, but couldn’t you have started with something different?” DiNozzo wheezed, before taking a swig of beer to help clear his throat.

“I wanted to get the biggy out of the way first.”

“Well, you certainly managed that!” DiNozzo coughed and then began to breathe a little easier.

“The two of you looked good together on the dance floor.”
DiNozzo would have preferred more coughing instead of the heat he could feel rising in his face.

“Took us all by surprise.” Paul casually commented. “Not that we weren’t surprised when you finally said yes to someone offering you a drink, but seeing you out on the dance floor...”

“I get the picture.” DiNozzo interrupted before Paul elaborated any further. “What of it?”

“Well, you can stop being so defensive to begin with.” Paul responded and looked him straight in the eye. “We haven’t known you very long, Tony, but I think we’ve all become good friends. That means we care about you. I care about you. You’re new to stuff like that and we don’t want to see you get hurt. Not if there’s a way that we can prevent it.”

“Okay.” DiNozzo replied, his colour still high. “I can accept that and... it’s appreciated.”

“Good. So, tell me. Did you spend time together after you left the club?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because neither of us asked or offered.” DiNozzo admitted. “Besides...”

“Besides what?”

“Before we left...” DiNozzo took a deep, calming breathe. “Before we left, he said he’d be back at the club tomorrow and I’d see him then.”

“Is that all? That you’d see him at Spartac?”

DiNozzo sighed. Partly wanting to keep it all to himself, he also knew that he really was too new to the scene to fully understand what was going on, or rather, what would be expected. Swallowing his pride, he hesitantly related what Gibson had said about spending time together more privately.
Listening without interruption, Paul took a few moments to think about it, then asked, “So, what are you planning to do?”

“I’ll go to the club...”

“And?”

“Maybe, spend some time with him...”

“Only maybe? What about the weekend?”

“No, I definitely want to spend some time with him, but the weekend...” DiNozzo sighed. “I don’t really know what I’m getting into, Paul. I don’t know what he’ll expect...”

“Want to talk it through with me?”

“Yes, if you’re sure you don’t mind, but first...” DiNozzo stood up. “We need another beer and can we change the subject for the few minutes it takes to drink it.”

Appreciating his friend’s need to lighten the atmosphere, Paul waited until he was again seated and they each had fresh bottles in hand and then gave a knowing smile.

“What?” DiNozzo suspiciously frowned.

“Oh, I’ve just thought of something that would make you smile.”

“Really?” DiNozzo sceptically raised his bottle to take another swig of beer.

His timing spot on, Paul shared the priceless news, “James spent last night with Zack!”