1.

A soft rhythmic noise disturbed the silence of the room. The source was a very handsome man in khakis and a T-shirt who was leaning against the wall beside the door banging his head against said wall, his eyes closed, his lips moving. Two of the three other occupants of the room were eying him dubiously and keeping their distance as if whatever made him act like a lunatic could infect them too. The only one who didn’t seem to mind was a tall gray haired man who was sitting in front of the desk in the middle of the office.

Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn’t happy with their situation either. He was staring mournfully into his empty coffee cup, ignoring the picture of misery beside the door in favor of covertly observing the reactions of the people he would have to work with.

Inspektor Brenner wasn’t a rookie, she had the aura of a grizzled veteran. She had indeed been the lead criminologist in her region for nearly ten years and had encountered a lot of strange things in her career. She hadn’t been happy when the ministry insisted on her working together with two American Agents but had nevertheless shown them professional courtesy. Now she surely had to question the sanity of her superiors and their fitness to make important decisions. “Ah, Agent Gibbs? Don’t you think…?� An embarrassed nod in the direction of the man beside her office door gave a clue as to what she didn’t want to voice aloud.

“For goodness sake, DiNozzo, stop it before you crack that dense head of yours.�

The banging stopped and was replaced by a fierce glare aimed scorchingly in Gibb's direction. “Yeah, Boss, I know. A Marine has been killed and we're the ones on hand to help solve the mystery. I should show some respect. But we're on vacation!� Tony dropped his head and half muttered, "And I thought nothing could go wrong this time."

Gibbs couldn’t fault him for his frustrated reaction, it was understandable and he would have liked to rage against the unfairness of it too but that wasn’t his nature. Not that there was any need for him to voice his discontent. Tony was very able (and willing) to do it for them both.

They really didn’t seem to have any luck with their private time. Going on vacation together as a family, just the three of them, had sounded like such a wonderful idea. They had selected the destination in the belief that nothing could go wrong. Somewhere far enough away that their boss, Director Vance, couldn’t call them back easily (Walt Disney World, Florida hadn’t been far enough). Somewhere with no military base (why did Petty Officers seem to drop dead whenever they were in the vicinity?). Somewhere nobody would know them or have a grudge against them (better not think about New Orleans). Austria was in Europe and was a neutral country. It didn’t have even one measly harbor. It didn’t have a connection to the ocean at all! American armed forces weren’t allowed to have bases here so they should have been safe. None of them ever had been here before. And still trouble had found them.

Gibbs rubbed with his hands over his face and then glared at the item that had started this mess. Maybe he should send copies of the crime scene photos to Abby as postcards: a pile of painted and artfully inscribed skulls with one cuckoo one among them that didn’t belong there. It still eluded Gibbs why the locals at Hallstatt felt the need to dig up their dead after - how had the guide put it â€" worms and other little wrigglies did their job and ate everything but the bones and why these people felt the need to display what was left at their Gebeinhaus*. And the fact that the curator could spot the one among hundreds that didn’t belong? Super creepy, to borrow one of Abby’s favorite phrases.

“The sooner we solve this, the sooner we'll be able to go back to being just tourists.� DiNozzo murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. A few steps of his long legs ate the distance between the entrance to the squad room and the desk and what lay on it.

After all the gruesome scenes they'd seen working at NCIS, the object Tony bent to examine was relatively tame. A very clean, polished human skull, gleaming in a very pretty pale ivory, grinned up at them sightlessly. Someone had etched a name into it’s forehead and used elaborate black calligraphy to boot. Very pretty in an old fashioned way. On each side two teeth were missing, one on the upper, one on the lower jaw. A chain had been woven through, efficiently tying the mouth shut.

It was a very familiar kind of chain and Gibbs didn’t need a fortune teller to know that if he upend the macabre piece he would find dog tags in it’s mouth, probably repeating the name displayed on its forehead.

“Petty Officer Simon Grant. 1985-2013. I can’t say he had good timing.� Tony still sounded annoyed but his eyes were focused on the skull, cataloging its every nuance.

Gibbs looked at the Inspector. “Do we even know if the name is correct?�

Brenner handed him a file. “We sent detailed scans of the skull to your office in DC, the results came back fast enough. The dental records match. This should indeed be Grant. He was officially on leave and should have reported back on the USS Enterprise on the first of August.�

Gibbs opened the file and spotted something that didn't make him at all happy. "His father is Brigadier General Jeffrey Grant.� It wouldn’t take long for the news to reach the man and then the shit would hit the fan. The grief of a parent was something Gibbs could relate to, but the grief of a General had the potential to make this one hell of a case to solve.

“Boss?�

He looked up. “Yeah.�

“The next time we visit somewhere and we see police standing around, using one of our military ranks in their sentences and the word murder, we will turn around and walk away, not barge in and demand to know what's happened.� Tony was massaging his neck, his smile half fond, half exasperated. “But I know the perfect punishment for you. You get to be the one who has to explain this … clusterfuck to Sam.�

.-#-.

Earlier

“You know, I can't help but feel like we don't ever escape the corpses, even when we're on vacation." Tony DiNozzo crouched down to get a better look at the plexi-glass cube and its contents: a pile of bones clothed in something vaguely resembling trousers and ragety linen shirt. Leather straps, a very old pike and other mining implements had been arranged around the corpse. Everything was neatly labled and the multi-lingual information sheet tacked to the back of the cube gave further information about the remains and some pictures of salt-mummies .

"It's a good thing that this is just a display on the dangers of mining and not a crime scene. I'd hate to have to investigate anything this old and degraded. A few hundred years take it well out of our jurisdiction."

They had visited the salt mines of Hallstatt and afterwards decided to take the foot path down to town to warm up again. It was a hot summer day and there were various educational display cases alongside the path dealing with salt mining and how it had influenced the region. For some reason Tony hadn't expected the mine to be so cold, but it had been fun. Sliding down long wooden slides
and wandering around the man-made caverns was a nice counterpoint to their lazy days on the lake shore.

The man he was addressing stepped beside him to study the display. “Yeah. Not to mention that the poor shmuck wasn't a member of the Navy or the Marines, or an US citizen at all.�

“And if you wanted to stick your nose into it, that would stop you because?� Tony impishly grinned up at his partner, bestowing a long admiring glance at the casually clad body. Jethro the tourist was a delight to behold, standing there in the sunlight with the panorama of craggy mountains and a lake in the background. Nobody back home would recognize the usually conservatively clad Special Agent in his current get up of khaki-shorts that exposed muscular legs to the sun, sneakers, and a simple dark blue T-shirt. It went, at least Tony thought so, very well with the lightly tanned skin and the ruffled, sweaty hair. And the most delightful details were his partner’s relaxed stance and the lack of a scowl on his face.

“Ducky would love this! He would tell us that this reminds him of the one case where-" An exasperated growl was the only warning before Tony was forced to stop mid-sentence because Gibbs pulled him to his feet and shut him up with a kiss. Not that Tony minded, kissing was preferable to talking and they were on a vacation, the perfect time to indulge a little bit as long as-

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he reluctantly separated from his lover to look at his daughter. Sam was eying them with the typical slightly horrified expression of a child at the cusp to teenager-hood who didn’t know if she should be disgusted or delighted about the fact that her parents showed affection for each other. Thankfully the delight was, for now at least, winning. Tony wasn’t looking forward to the day when his coltish little girl would decide that kissing was only for the young.

‘Eek! The parents are at it again.’ She signed and then wriggled between them to get a better view of the display case.

Gibbs groaned. “I knew that buying her the Addams family DVD collection for her birthday was a bad idea.�

Tony just laughed and ignored his partner’s grumbling. “It could be worse. She could quote the Simpsons.�

That earned him another growl but before they could delve into the never ending discussion about appropriate viewing material for little girls, said girl demanded their attention again.

‘Wow! Not as cool as the crypt beneath the Stefanschurch or the mummies at the arts museum but this is interesting as well.’ Sam had crouched down before the cube, unconsciously mimicking Tony's earlier pose and then turned halfway around so she was able to sign to them. Her gestures were so energetic that she lost her balance and tumbled backwards. Without the fast help of her fathers, her butt would have painfully met the stony path. The little incident didn’t curb her enthusiasm at all, she thanked them and babbled on. ‘It reads that salt is a very good preserver. Well, duh! I knew that long ago, Ducky told me. And it says that they discovered dead miners under cave-ins who looked like they died yesterday instead of hundreds of years ago.’

Tony turned his head and shared a smile with Jethro. Watching Sam often reminded him of observing a yearling. All legs and muscle with no coordination and grace, quick to stumble but equally quick to shrug it off as nothing afterwards. Typical teenage behaviour.

The sound of hands clapping together drew his attention back to Sam who was staring at them indignantly. ‘The information sheet doesn’t say anything about how- ‘ The girl paused and took another long look at the bones. ‘how she died- and weren’t female miners rare?- no cause of death, if it was an accident or- do you think she was murdered? Maybe she found something valuable, the guide said something about cat gold?’

Ok, this part was not so typical for the average teenager and Tony a very clear picture that, not far in the future, there would be another scandalized teacher demanding a conference with him. Somehow teachers didn’t take it well when their students gave ‘to conserve a corpse’ instead of ‘makes food taste better’ as an answer to the question about what salt was good for. He still had nightmares about the time he had to explain that Sam was the child of two law enforcement officers (and very interested in forensics) and not a future criminal mastermind because she knew how to make writing visible again after someone emptied their drink over the sheet of paper. If they were florists their daughter would be interested in flowers. If they were veterinarians it was likely that Sam would be interested in cuddly pets. It wasn’t Tony’s fault that daisies and puppies were more socially acceptable than old bones.

Both men often regretted that it wasn’t always possible to shield their child from the harsher realities of life, but even if they tried… it was impossible to turn back time and Sam becoming interested in forensics was, in their opinion, far better than her being irrevocably scarred by the events when she was eight.

Jethro switched to Agent-mode, eying the bones thoughtfully. ‘Good question Princess, but I don't think we're going to be able to answer it. This is anything but a pristine crime scene, you know? I would have to see the pictures the archaeologists have taken before moving anything to even make an educated guess.’

They discussed the old skeleton on their way down to the town. When asked what she wanted to do next, Sam dug deep into her backpack and handed them a folder. ‘This should be interesting as well, the Gebeinhaus!’

‘Gebeinhaus?’ Tony opened the crinkly folder. It depicted a white room with a low ceiling. It was full of skulls with names painted on their foreheads. The text stated that due to the lack of space for graves it was a common practice for the locals to dig up their dead after a few years and display their remains in a special house. Yep, no way to escape the corpses and this country seemed to encourage it to boot. Austrians were a really, really morbid people, but at least the landscape was great.

.-#-.

Later

The two American Agents and their Austrian colleague had assembled at the police station again after questioning everyone who had been present when the skull had been found. The curator of the Gebeinhaus insisted that it hadn’t been there yesterday and that it was impossible that it had been buried at their cemetery beforehand. Not that Gibbs had thought so, there wasn’t a big enough time frame for the usual ….well. The old adage about never knowing when a seemingly obscure piece of information would come in handy was holding true again. “Our Petty Officer was alive one week ago, so that rules out your traditional methods.�

All three of them stared down at the polished bare skull on the desk in front of them until Brunner broke the silence with a question. “Do you like to hunt, Agent Gibbs?�

Gibbs just shrugged his shoulders. Seeing Gibbs' reluctance to reply to the query, Tony was the one who answered, "I always thought it unsporting. Deer can’t shoot back.� Gibbs guessed that Tony was reluctant to tell her that the adversaries his boss used to hunt with a rifle ran around on two feet.

“To each their own,� Brunner didn’t look like she cared one way or the other about their preferences. “About your question of how someone could prepare a skull like this. You are staying at the Pension Weißenbach? So you might have seen the decorations of the,� she faltered and visibly searched for the right words, “hunting saloon.�

“The bare deer skulls.� Tony exclaimed. “They look like props from a Dallas episode that mated with Sound of Music.

One of Brunner’s flunkies began to babble in his native tongue and it started a heated discussion among the locals that ran on for a while before the Inspector stopped to translate what had been said to her visitors.

“Ok, Karl said there is a fairly simple method. Remove all the soft tissue and skin you can remove without too much effort, stuff the head into a big enough pot, fill it with water. Boil until everything but the bone liquefies. You might want to pull out the brain beforehand, it speeds up the process. Easy enough.�

“That’s… disgusting. So much for the soup at my hotel. I liked that soup.... And the rest of the body? I hope you don’t have big enough pots lying around to dissolve a whole body.� Tony groaned. “Any good dumping grounds that might have been used?�

“The lake. Caverns, currents, cloudy water and the unusual depth of the lake dare the divers to challenge their skills. But the lake is dangerous and tends to, well, swallow bodies." The slightly pained and sincere expression on the inspector’s face indicated that his tale was not another urban legend but the truth. “Every year sport divers try to beat the Attersee and unfortunately sometimes the lake wins and we are not able to find the bodies until they rise as floaters, if they rise at all.�

Tony leaned back in his seat. “Doesn’t that make it the ideal dumping ground for bodies? Al Capone style.�

It took some time until Insepector Brunner managed to figure out what her American visitor meant with his words. The woman’s grasp of the English language was good but Tony’s movie references added another communication hurdle the Austrian had to overcome. “Betonpatscherl verpassen…� was the conclusion she came to and now it was the two foreign agents' turn to blink and look confused. “To give someone cement shoes. That’s what we call the practice of weighting down someone before throwing the victim into the water to drown. A mafia practice, that’s what you meant, yes?�

Gibbs didn’t want them to deviate too much from their original topic. “Can we go back to the case at hand? We have to find the body. A bare skull doesn’t give us too many clues.�

The inspector blushed a little bit.

The younger agent threw a contrite look at Gibbs. His boss just shook his head. Tony wouldn’t be Tony without his irrepressible need to bring up parallels to his beloved movies.

Brunner pondered the question and then answered slowly. “It would be an unreliable way to make a corpse disappear. The currents and underwater caverns I mentioned? Nobody can guarantee which way the situation would develop, short of using actual cement shoes to weight the body down permanently. It could wash up. It could stay down long enough that the fish eat the body and the bones sink into the silt. It might happen that the body is drawn into a cavern where no fish dwell and stay there for months before washing up.� The woman shrugged her shoulders. “A ravine or a secluded place in the woods would be other possible options.�

Tony had listened closely but now he was staring off into space, biting down on his lower lip.

“Agent Gibbs?� The inspector looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Let him be, he's working an idea." Gibbs answered her and thought with longing about his missing team members. The Austrians appeared to be eager to help and competent enough but it wasn’t the same. Abby would be very useful, she could analyze the skull with one of her gadgets. Of course, the locals could too, but part of the Abby magic was that she intuited where to look and which of her doohickeys to use. Ducky might see something the local M.Es missed. Same for McGee and David and the local L.E.O.s. Yeah, Gibbs wished that he could have his full team at his disposal. If wishes were horses… Oh well, they had worked cases as a duo in the past, whenever Gibbs had managed to scare away another candidate for his team, or gave them the boot himself, they would manage now.

“Ok…ok.� Tony straightened. “Boss… I think I know why I asked about the lake. I couldn’t grasp it before but now-

“DiNozzo, stop babbling, start making sense.� Gibbs interrupted him.

Tony gave him a mock-hurt look, “I always make sense! I am made of sense. My middle name is-�

One speaking look and his partner rolled his eyes and was afterward all business again. “I think we should search the lake, especially those dangerous parts you talked about. You have experienced divers at hand or should I request some from our German base?�

“That won’t be necessary. We have a good team, as I said, we are unfortunately used to searching the water for missing people. They know the lake very well.� Brunner assured them. “But why do you think the murderer would go this way?�

“Our murderer is all about symbolic gestures. He didn’t have to paint the name and dates on the skull. He used the wrong rank on purpose and I'm guessing that we'll find the reason behind the murder back when Grant was a Petty Officer. The murderer didn’t have to put the dog tags between the teeth and use the chain to wire them shut so the tags wouldn't fall out. I'd even bet the shelf he put it on was deliberately chosen.� Tony’s expressive hands accompanied his reasoning with gestures and his eyes shone with enthusiasm. The younger agent was in his element.

“So? How does that point in direction of the lake?�

“Well, Grant was passionate about two hobbies. He was a hunter and, judging from the pictures we saw of his hunting cabin at home, loved to mount trophies of his kills on his walls. He even named them.�

Gibbs, in one of the typical mind reading moments that made them such a fantastic team, suddenly knew where Tony was going with this. “The perp used his own preferences against him. Grant was also a passionate diver. The lake would be the ideal symbolic resting place for the rest of Grant’s body.� They grinned at each other. Working as a team of two again wasn’t that bad at all.

.-#-.

"Sempera!“ Bellowing loud enough to rattle windows didn’t do Gibbs any good, his daughter couldn’t hear him, but the former marine couldn’t help himself. The market place of Hallstatt was the last location he had imagined her to be. The girl in question stood with her back to him and was busy showing small paper cards to a plump woman. His daughter might not have been able to hear him, but his hand grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling her away was something she wasn’t able to miss. Sam yelped, her cards scattered, and she tried to escape. One of her hands flew up to grab and claw the arm that had captured her. It was a defensive move her dads had taught her. Too bad Gibbs knew the counter for it. He caught her hand, whirled her around. She took a look at his enraged face and stopped struggling.

Yep, this slip of a girl had inherited her biological father’s talent for getting into trouble all right. It was a miracle that Gibb’s hair hadn’t turned completely white yet. And she was as unrepentant as her dad too, if he was interpreting the pouting lips and raised chin correctly.

The woman his little girl had been conversing with was eying them anxiously, clearly not sure what this was all about. She seemed to be debating whether she should ignore the scene or call for help and the police. It wouldn’t do them any good to attract more attention.

“I’m her father. She hasn’t bothered you?� He said and hoped that she understood English.

“Oh. Ist die Kleine in Schwierigkeiten?�

Gibbs had no idea what she had said, but since she made no attempt to call for help he thought it best to wave, ignore her and relocate to a better and more private place than the middle of the market. He would call a cab as soon as he had finished reading Sam the riot act for her stunt. There, beside the Apothecary was a convenient park bench under a tree.

'What the hell were you doing here? I thought you wanted to read your new book back at the hotel. "Lazy afternoon, just chilling", those were your words!’ Gibbs scolded. For once he only used signs. They didn’t need to call more attention to themselves.

Sam snorted. For her the answer was obvious, ‘I was trying to help you, of course. The faster the case is solved, the faster we will be able to enjoy the rest of our vacation.’

Gibb was speechless. The many ways this could have gone wrong! The last thing they needed was for the perp to take any notice and interest in his little princess. If this was her way of paying them back for ruining her much anticipated family holiday she was succeeding.

‘YOU COULD GET KILLED! KIDNAPPED! THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT COULD GO WRONG!’ It felt far less satisfying to shout in sign language than aloud.

His first instinct was to bundle her up, drive her to the nearest airport and send her back to DC post haste. But with the luck they'd had thus far, she would probably manage to stumble over the murderer at the airport and get kidnapped, no matter how many Marines he put with her as bodyguards. It would be better to keep an eye on her. Well, the bodyguards might not be a bad idea though. The commander of the German base still owed him a favor.

Why did young people always seem to ignore their own mortality and believe that nothing could happen to them? As a Gunny he had done his best to instill some common sense into young soldiers, by force and a boot up their asses if necessary. Countless dumb young marines not knowing they'd get dead and how the fuck did he end up with a girl just as stupid? How could she be both so smart and still so dumb, and why lord why?

Some of his thought must have shown on his face because Sam tried to reassure him. ‘Don’t be such a grouch, Daddy. It is midday, there are hundreds of people around. I am not stupid enough to go into a dark side street with a stranger.’ She turned around and stared at her cards which were laying haphazardly in the gutter. The flowers in the big pots decorating the street had been watered rather enthusiastically and the overflowing fluid was now turning the poor cards into a wet mess. ‘Damn. I had some really clever questions on them. Now I will have to prepare new ones.’

Gibbs stared at her incredulously and forgot to restrict himself to just signing. “Are you nuts? Absolutely not. What you will do is go back to our suite and wait for Tony and me to come back. And I’ll pull you out of the sailing courses you wanted to take.� That would serve as a punishment and would keep her far, far away from violent criminals. And the bodyguards idea was sounding better and better every minute.

His growls had cowed countless young Marines, Agents and …well, everyone else but it didn’t seem to impress his daughter at all.

‘I don’t care! You are a far superior sailing instructor than some stupid local anyway. And you can sign and talk to me properly. They don’t even sign the same way here as they do at home! Yesterday the crew of my boat laughed because I used the wrong sign!’ Sam exclaimed.

They had signed her up for the lessons so she would interact with other kids her own age. Well, the part about him being better at teaching her how to handle a boat might be true, but it didn’t solve his current dilemma: What to do with his stubborn daughter. Reasoning with a teenager was, in most cases, like trying to steer a boat during a big storm. You never knew in which direction it would buck. ‘Sam, you wanna know what you can do to help us solve the case faster?’

She nodded earnestly.

"Make it so we don't have to worry about your safety." He searched her face but there wasn't an inkling of understanding to be found, she was back to glaring at him mutinously. Sam had reacted violently to the news that another family vacation had been spoiled by circumstances out of their control and apparently still refused to see reason.

‘I can do more! People like talking to me, far more than talking to an old grump like you. And I wasn’t in any danger.’

Gibbs sighed and ignored the grump comment. ‘Look around, people are sheep, no good insulation against an attack at all. None of them tried to really defend you when I dragged you away, did they? And they don't know that I’m your father.’

That finally made her stop and think but her introspective mood didn't last for long. ‘So, you already knew that Grant visited this city years ago in the company of another man? And that they seemed to be close? The man over there, he is a baker, told me all about it.’ Sam gestured in the direction of a skinny older man who was one of the few persons who was still paying attention to the foreign pair.

They had known that Grant had been here before, it was in his file, but the information about his companion was news. Every investigative instinct screamed at Gibbs to interview the baker but it would have to wait till he had escorted Sam back to their hotel in person, forget about putting her in a cab. ‘I want you to stay safe. Please Sam.’ He would lock her into her room and post one big badass marine in front of it and another one under her window, no matter how much she protested. Tony would support this decision, Gibbs had no doubt about it.

He waved at a passing cab.

Sam was near tears but she followed him to the car. ‘You are courting danger too. It’s not fair.’

Gibbs handed a piece of paper with the address of their hotel to the driver. Then he sat back and hugged his daughter close and kissed her on her sun-warmed hair. ‘We talked about it, Tony and I are highly trained agents. You are a teenager.’

Her shoulders slumped defeatedly. ‘You are not immortal either.’

The cabbie accelerated and Gibbs closed his eyes. He wasn't looking forward to the long uncomfortable conversation that he'd have to have with Tony as a result of their daughter's unauthorized investigation.

.-#-.

Tony DiNozzo dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his slacks and slowly walked down to the pier where his family should be waiting for him. He had volunteered for the job of making sure that every "i" was dotted and every "T" crossed, not wanting to stress his partner. Jethro had been depressed enough about the waste of lives, he shouldn’t have to deal with paperwork on top of it.

Now it was in the hands of the prosecutors and lawyers. Frau Höllerweger was an Austrian citizen, even with the International Cooperation pact of 2011 and the fact that her victim had been an American, it would take a lot of time to hash out a procedure that would satisfy both nations. Maybe it was cynicism rearing its ugly head, but Tony doubted that the courts would come to a conclusion about what to do with her before she died. Sentencing a 76 year old woman to a lifetime in prison was kind of redundant.

The other half of the equation wasn’t better. This affair had the potential to create some fairly big waves at home. A lot of people in high places would do their best to sweep this under the carpet, no matter what they thought about General Grant’s actions. He had encouraged his son to disappear instead of calling for medical help for his lover when their sex game went awry. Not to mention that the General had pulled some strings to keep the whole affair quiet. Being gay wasn’t against regulations anymore, but it didn’t help with a military career either. This story would look very bad for the Navy in the papers. Some days Tony couldn’t see why he should still care.

Discordant laughter and the sound of wildly splashing water made him turn his head and peer towards the water. The sun was making the waves glitter and sparkle and it was hard to see anything specific but after a few seconds he could make out dark heads against the water surface. One silhouette in particular made him smile. Well, there was one of his reasons. Sam’s hair was up in two high pigtails, a style she had adopted from her Aunt Abby. The pigtails were wetly clinging to her shoulders and she seemed to be involved in a boisterous game of water polo with some local teens. They were chasing each other and their ball, slipping through the water like young careless seals, completely unaware of their watchful guardian perched a few yards away.

And there was Tony’s second reason for still wanting to believe in the good guys winning. Jethro was sitting on the edge of the pier, his legs dangling in the water, keeping watch. A light breeze was playing with his hair, rustling it and making it appear pure white. At home the cantankerous man would never appear in public without a shirt on. Maybe it had something to do with never showing his full hand to potential enemies? Whatever it was, Tony enjoyed that he didn't seem to mind being shirtless while they were here. And if he frequently checked out how nice Jethro's strong back looked with the sun shining down on it, hell, who would complain?

The younger man hurried along the pier, now eager to reach his partner and leave the ugliness of the case behind. Jethro didn’t turn around but Tony knew that he'd heard him coming. He shifted to relax against a conveniently near pole and freed a spot on the towel he was sitting on that was clearly for Tony.

Tony preferred to remain standing, but he reached down and gripped Jethro’s shoulder. Jethro looked up and graced Tony with one of his special smiles. One of the sort which barely raised the corners of his mouth but made his blue eyes shine warmly. Tony didn’t mind the careful scrutiny and the questioningly raised eyebrow that followed.

No, he wasn't completely all right but he would be after some time to get his head screwed on right. Two Marines had died needlessly and the people responsible for it would likely never even comprehend or acknowledge that they committed crimes. What a waste.

Tony could see his thought mirrored in his partner's face and he bent down to steal a soft kiss. He could taste berries and, of course, coffee.

Another loud squeal caught his attention and he turned his face, still bent over Jethro. Sam was triumphantly holding up the water ball she had wrestled away from one of the boys. She was dunked from behind a few seconds later and her prize taken away. She didn't seemed to mind and splashed after the laughing culprit.

Amateurs. Tony laughed. “Jethro, how about showing them how water polo is really played?�

His partner smiled up at him wickedly and that was the only warning Tony got before he felt one calloused hand on his calf and the other at the small of his back. One push, one pull and he tumbled headfirst into the cold lake. He wasn't too worried, he knew that Jethro wasn't far behind.

.-#-.

It was late. Tomorrow they would have to pack their bags and catch the train to Salzburg, another medieval town full of things like historic castles and strongholds. They had planned to play tourist again, visiting the sights and marveling at the sheer history of a city that had been bursting with life at a time when no European had even dreamed about crossing the ocean and settling on new shores.

This time, no matter how much Tony and Sempera might protest, they would stay away from skulls, bones and other potential sources of mayhem. Of course, there was a dungeon in the stronghold they planned to see. The folders made it sound very interesting…

For now they were still in their little hotel at the Attersee. Sam was occupied with relating a blow by blow report of their adventure to Abby via the internet and the men had retired to their rooms and put the ‘do not disturb’ sigh outside their door. They planned to spend a few hours relaxing, after a boisterous afternoon at the lake. OK, Gibbs was relaxing, Tony was moving a little restlessly beside him, his arms crossed under his head, his fingers playing with his hair. Not a good sign.

They were lying naked on some towels on their bed, side by side without touching. At this time of the day the bath was preferable to their bed, it was still far too hot to snuggle.

“Jethro?�

“Hm?�

“You never really answered me yesterday when I asked about … you know, the correct ratio between danger and potential heartache.� Tony sounded tired but it was clearly a mental weariness, rather than a physical one.

Gibbs moved until he was lying on his side, with his face turned toward Tony. He reached out to capture the restless fingers with his own to still them. “Remember the meeting I had with Vance before we started our vacation?�

This seemingly random question earned him a hesitant nod.

“Leon asked me to discuss something with you.�

Tony wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste. He had successfully worked with their director on some projects during the last year but neither man was completely comfortable with the other, they were just too different. “Since when do you play messenger boy for Toothpick?�

“It’s something that concerns both of us. Vance thought that I'd have a better chance of convincing you to agree," Gibbs heaved himself up on one elbow. It went unsaid that he would never try to convince his partner to do something he himself didn’t back up.

Tony chuckled and sat up. Gibbs was relieved to see the green eyes he loved so much dance with mischievousness.

“What did he think you would do to make me see things his way? Withhold sex? Or the other way round. Blow me until I would agree to paint myself blue and dance naked in the streets. I always knew that Vance’s mind lives in the gutter.�

Gibbs shook his head good naturedly and refused to let himself be distracted. “Who’s mind is in the gutter now? But back to business. Morrow, you remember him?�

“Best director we ever had.�

“Yeah. He's going to resign in about three years from his post at Homeland Security.� Gibbs knew that Tony would catch the significance immediately.

Tony stilled, slumping forward until his head rested on the other man’s shoulder. “And Vance will get Morrow’s post.�

“Yeah.�

“Darn, just when we had him seasoned nearly right. Do they want you as his successor?�

That wasn’t a completely unreasonable idea and if it was true he would of course discuss it with his partner. But Gibbs had never wanted to be the director of NCIS. There was no question that he would be able to do the job, and do it well, but everyone at the agency knew that interacting with politicians and trying to keep the peace with other agencies would drive him bat-shit insane within his first month. “God, no. He wants YOU as his Assistant Director for now.�

Gibbs felt Tony grow tense and unhappy under his hands and could feel his partner’s suddenly irregular breath ghosting over his face. “You know we can't go on much longer with the team we have now. McGee is ready to fly solo, Vance wants to give him a team of his own."

“I know but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Ziva?�

“Head of a newly formed strike force team dealing with threats and crimes against the international forces.� He knew that Tony was too afraid to ask about what had been planned for Gibbs himself. They were so used to having each other’s sixes, working with each other. Change would be hard for both of them. “I was offered the position of Head of Cold Cases.�

“Oh. Lots of detective work, interrogation of old witnesses, challenges but a lot less danger than your old job.�

Gibbs pressed a soft kiss against Tony’s hair, his hands wandering over the smooth skin of partner’s back. “And you would still be able to go out into the field for special cases while otherwise doing what you do best; dazzle and influence people.� He left out the "driving them up the walls" aspect.

But Tony was the sort of person who had few illusions about himself and completed the sentence on his own. “Getting on the FBI agents’ last nerves. Fornell will come out of retirement just for the chance to yell at me.�

Minutes went by, both men contemplating the possible ramifications of Vance’s plans for them. Then Tony raised his head and they shared a long, drawn out look and then an equally long kiss. Gibbs knew without a doubt what their joint decision would be.

“Vance wants to know our answer as soon as we're back?�

“Yeah.�

Their next kiss wasn’t about reassurance anymore but something else completely. They separated and Tony was nearly purring. “See, I might need a little bit more convincing. And not the withholding kind! How about it, Marine?

That sounded exactly like the perfect mission for a Marine like Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His hands snuck into position and one sharp pull later Gibbs had his laughing partner prone under him and at his mercy. Overwhelm and conquer. It was a good thing that the old walls of the hotel were thick and soundproof. The next few hours would be theirs alone.

The END