Post episode for Jet Lag.

Tony was still tired from his flight, but he was determined to wait until Gibbs was ready to go home. And since Jethro had just collected a coffee�"his fifth today, not that Tony was trying to keep count�"it was gonna be a while. Tony’s report was almost done and he was tired and sore, in that thirty thousand feet nightmare kinda way.

He still didn’t know what the hell had come over him, why he’d handed the picture to Ziva, why he said what he had. It was good to encourage the probie, but he had to be careful. She was far more interested in him than he was in her. He was taken, even if nobody could know about it.

And when he’d learned McGee had broken Gibbs, he’d been worried and supposed he’d acted out. Even hearing Gibbs’ voice on the phone hadn’t quite settled him. It was only seeing Gibbs’ face that had relaxed him and allowed him to concentrate.

Gibbs was still up with the director and Tony only had to run spell check on his report. Ziva, Abby, and McGee had already left, Ziva offering him a case wrap-up drink at her place, complete with batting eyelashes. If it wasn’t desperate, it would have been kind of funny. As it was, Tony felt sorry for her. He wasn’t interested and she just couldn’t seem to take the hint. He didn’t think she’d dated anyone since Michael’s death and she seemed to be keeping more to herself in off hours than she’d ever been. But Tony knw Ziva wouldn’t take life advice from him. She never had.

When it seemed as if Gibbs was going to be busy for a while, Tony logged into the file archive area on his computer. His mind was too active, his leg bouncing up and down with pent-up energy he hadn’t been able to burn off on the plane, or since. He slapped on a set of headphones and pulled up the case feed from Interrogation. Legendary DC madam Holly Snow. This should be interesting…

Tony watched the first feed, admiring how Ms. Snow went toe to toe with Gibbs and how McGee was a little nervous at first. That was his Probie. But McGee recovered quickly and Tony admired the hell out of that. He’d have to tell McBlush that sometime. Tony couldn’t help smirking when Gibbs said Holly Snow was providing a service. There were sparks between them and Tony shook his head, slightly annoyed. Gibbs was allowed to flirt…but with her?

Tony breathed out a sigh of relief as the first file ended and he cued up the second one. This woman put him off a bit and Tony didn’t know why. When Holly’s first words after Gibbs entered were foreplay and seduction, Tony winced. She was playing to win, and she was playing with his man. Tony let out a low growl, glad that the squad room was empty. If anyone had heard him and connected the dots, he never would have heard the end of it. He quickly pulled up an online game, in case he wasn’t able to hold back any more outbursts.

Then Holly asked Gibbs if he liked it rough, and another possessive growl escaped before Tony could stop it. The way Gibbs’ head was angled, Tony could see his lover’s complete reaction, the way his eyes deepened for a split second, the way he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face before he answered. And when she asked him about roleplay, he almost smiled.

That smirk of his was something Tony found completely endearing, It brought Tony to his knees even more than the stern look, which was way behind the authority look, and then there was the “completely befuddled by modern technology” look, the concerned look, the “you annoy me but I’m keeping you around” look. Tony favorite look of all, though, was the “I want you” look. The one where Gibbs could just pin him with that gaze, when Gibbs’ eyes would light up and his lips would quirk slightly and he’d slick his tongue slowly over his lips. That look never failed to make Tony’s breathing hitch and his eyes glaze over.

Too bad there wouldn’t be any of that with Gibbs injured. Tony had asked McGee to keep an eye on Gibbs before they went away, and McGee had given him his own look, the one that made Tony convinced that McGee knew exactly what was going on. Then McGee just shrugged and Tony had breathed out a sigh of relief, rambling about some new girl he was “dating”. Some days he felt so damned transparent.

Tony finished checking out the files and closed them, putting the finishing touches on his report before printing it. He found a folder for the report and placed it on Gibbs desk, then drifted back to his own, starting a game of solitaire.

“Tony, is Jethro about? I was hoping to give him a lift home.” Ducky stood with his hat in his hands, watching Tony curiously.

Tony dealt out his cards and nodded warmly to Ducky. “He’s upstairs, but he asked me to drive him home.”

“Did he?” Ducky asked, cocking his head and studying Tony curiously. Tony’s heartbeat sped up. He always had to be more careful with Ducky. Tony wondered if he was giving anything away, trying to calm his breathing all the while. He knew he had to answer, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I did,” Gibbs said, jogging down the stairs. “Thanks anyway, Duck.”

“Ah yes. Well, good evening, then. Jethro, take your medication and remember to not overdo. No woodwork, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t,” Gibbs replied, rolling his eyes. As soon as the elevator doors had closed behind Ducky, he turned to Tony, giving him a fond smile. “Ya like Paris?”

Tony shrugged. The sightseeing was awesome, but the hotel wasn’t so much. And the plane ride back… “Ya know, Boss. Some things are better left to the movies.” Gibbs quirked an eyebrow up at that, and Tony realized how unlike him that sounded, shivering at the unease of it all. He was movies…it was as ingrained in him as pizza, or being a goofball. If Tony didn’t have that, what was left? He tried to chase those thoughts away as he stood, shrugging into his coat. and reached for Gibbs’.

“I got it,” Gibbs said, draping his coat over his injured shoulder. As they walked to the elevator, they fell right into step, their movements perfectly in sync. Tony waited, biding his time until the elevator doors slid shut and the car began moving. Then he flicked the emergency stop switch and stood in front of Gibbs.

“No roleplay, huh?”

“Di�"“ Gibbs started, breaking off when Tony continued speaking. He cocked his head, grinning. “Saw that, did ya?”

“Damn right. She was hot. And a redhead.”

“Reddish,” Gibbs corrected.

“Still hot.”

“You jealous, DiNozzo?”

“Hell no.” He arched a brow. “Should I be?”

“Nope.”

“We going right home?”

“You’re picking us up some Chinese first. Gonna need your energy, Tony.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, perking up.

“Oh yeah. I like it rough, didn’t ya hear?”

“Well, yeah. But…” Tony gestured to Gibbs’ shoulder.

“More than one way to have it rough, Tony. Tonight you’re gonna be on top of me. I’m gonna give it to ya, but you’re gonna do all the work.”

“And that’ll be rough?” Tony asked, licking his lips frantically.

“Damned right it will be. Rough, hot, hard. That’s how ya like it, don’t ya?”

All the air seemed to have gone out of the elevator. Gibbs was giving him that leading the lamb to slaughter look and Tony let out a full-body shiver at the intent in Gibbs’ voice, the promise Tony had no doubt he’d make good on.

“You wanna get going so you can see?”

“On it, Boss.”

“Will be in twenty minutes, DiNozzo.”