Induction: (in-DUCK-shun) n. The process by which a hypothesis can be proved through observation of facts.

Gibbs drove home in silence, not bothering to turn on the radio. He had to smile a little, remembering the way Tony had looked before he'd left. He was almost positive Tony had expected Gibbs to kiss him--was *sure* Tony had wanted it. But...Gibbs shook his head wryly. Sometimes it seemed like his entire life was based around bad timing.

He pulled into his driveway and shut off the car, listening to the soft tick of the engine. God, but he was tired. Watching Tony cuff Lawson and read him his Article 31 rights had been one of the more satisfying things he'd seen in recent months, but it didn't make up for the hours of poring over reports. The glasses he didn't have and wouldn't wear if he did might have helped with the eyestrain; nothing would have helped with the rest.

A mug of coffee and some cold water on his face woke him up a little, enough so that he went downstairs to work on the boat. Wood made sense. It did what he told it, it didn't argue back, and it didn't confuse him like everything else seemed to be doing at the moment.

Okay, so it wasn't everything else. It was just Tony. But damn if that wasn't enough to throw him completely off-balance on its own.

The phone rang just as he'd started to settle into the rhythm of sanding, jolting him out of the quiet state he'd just managed to achieve. He swore at it and picked it up. "Gibbs," he said shortly.

"So far we've missed dinner and now brunch. Can't a girl get a meal with you around here?" Anna teased.

Shit. Well, at least he'd called her to cancel this time. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Just before seven."

"Give me half an hour, if you still want."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you then." Anna hung up and Gibbs swore under his breath. He wasn't looking forward to this.

He showered and changed into something other than his old jeans and sweatshirt, wondering exactly what he was going to say. He still hadn't figured it out by the time Anna picked him up.

They went to a quiet little Japanese restaurant Anna liked; Gibbs figured he owed it to her, after two missed meals and now...he sighed, taking a drink of water.

"Long weekend?" Anna asked sympathetically.

He smiled a little. "That doesn't really begin to cover it, but it'll do."

She rested her hand on top of his. "Can you talk about it?"

Not 'will you', Gibbs noted absently, but 'can you'. She always did that, always gave him the option of saying no and staying quiet. God, she deserved better than him. "We closed an old case today," he said, pulling his hand back. "Almost two and a half years old."

She nodded. "Tough case?"

"Nasty one. One of those that sticks with you." Gibbs shook his head. "One of the first cases DiNozzo ever worked with me."

"I take it he didn't get to sleep in either," she said with a smile.

"No." Gibbs grinned. "No, he was at the office by seven-thirty."

"He sounds dedicated."

"With some things." Gibbs shrugged. Talking about Tony was getting too close to dangerous territory. "How was your weekend?"

"Quiet. My sister's in town next weekend, though. Could I possibly talk you into meeting her?" Anna smiled again.

"I..." Gibbs sighed and looked down at his water glass. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Anna was quiet for a moment. "You're not just talking about meeting my sister, are you," she said evenly.

"No." He looked up at her. "No, I'm not, and..."

"Don't apologize to me, Jethro. Don't do that." Anna's smile was brittle now. "I know you didn't--this wasn't love, on either side, but I thought--" She shook her head. "Do I get a reason?"

"You deserve someone better than me," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "Someone who's not constantly canceling plans because of the job. Someone who doesn't spend all his spare time building a boat in his basement." He shrugged. "It's not fair to you, Anna."

"I would think you'd let me decide that," she said. "What's the real reason, Jethro? Don't fall on your sword for me. I knew who you were when we began dating and if it hasn't stopped me so far..."

He couldn't tell her about Tony. Not when he didn't even know what was going on himself. "It's just not working, Anna. I'm sorry."

She nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line. "I am too, Jethro. I really am. I knew what I was getting into, but...I guess I fooled myself into thinking I could be different."

"You are," he said quietly. "Anna, if things were different--"

"Tell me," she demanded, voice quiet but intense. "Tell me why. Why now, why this--tell me."

He had no idea what to say to her. "I can't," he admitted. "I don't have a reason for you."

"You don't have a reason but you're breaking it off anyway." Anna laughed bitterly. "Is it someone else, Jethro?"

"No." That came out a bit too quickly, a bit too forcefully. Damnit. And she was too perceptive to miss it.

"There is," she said slowly. "God, Jethro, *when*?"

"There isn't. It's not like that, Anna. I never cheated on you. I wouldn't." Gibbs managed to meet her eyes. "It's not someone else."

She swallowed. "So that's it, then? You don't have a reason for me, you don't have an explanation, just so long, it's been fun, goodbye?"

"I didn't want it to go like this," Gibbs said quietly. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Surprise, Jethro, but there's really no way to dump someone without hurting them." Anna shook her head. "I should have known better. I really--" She swallowed again. "I never wanted to be your fourth wife. I didn't even want to live with you, not really. But..." Anna's mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. "I guess I should have known this was coming. All those nights you didn't stay, all those times you got so wrapped up in your cases or your boat that you forgot to call--I should have seen it. I guess I didn't want to."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Yeah." Anna sighed. "I am too." She gathered up her purse and her jacket, giving him a long look. "You can find your own way home, I think."

He nodded.

Anna stood. "For what it's worth, Jethro--it was good while it lasted." She left, heels clicking softly on the marble floor.

Gibbs didn't bother waiting for the check. He put some bills on the table and left, walking home. It was only a few miles and he needed to clear his head, anyway.

God, he was an idiot sometimes. There was no guarantee of anything here, nothing to indicate Tony would actually be interested in him. And even if he *did*--Gibbs knew Tony's history. He fell in and out of love about as often as they got new cases, sometimes *more* often. So why the hell had he just thrown away what he had with Anna for the hope of something that was probably never going to happen?

Right. He was an old fool who couldn't stop hoping, even if it meant he ended up alone. Again.

He spent the night working on the boat, falling asleep under the thing around two in the morning. Ingrained habit had him waking up at six and he groaned his way into a shower, this time taking his coffee with him.

Tony was at the office by the time he arrived, which surprised him. The flowers on Kate's desk didn't, but he had a feeling they weren't going to do much good once Kate found out about Lawson. He sighed to himself and drank more coffee. One of these days, she'd settle into the team.

He hoped.

Kate walked in just before eight, smiling when she saw the bouquet on her desk. She read the card and gave Tony a bright grin. "Thank you," she said, tucking the card away in her purse. "They're beautiful."

"And I didn't go through your PDA to find out where to get them." Tony grinned back and stretched his arms over his head. "Just think, Kate. Monday morning and we don't have any hot cases."

"Bite your tongue," she muttered. "We'll get one now."

Both of them looked at Gibbs' phone, as if daring it to go off. Gibbs hid a smile and turned his attention to the papers on his desk. He felt their relief when the office stayed quiet and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright.

Kate jumped when Tony's phone rang; she stared at it with suspicion, clearly wondering why someone would be calling him instead of Gibbs. Tony blinked and grabbed it before it could ring again. "DiNozzo," he said, tucking it under his ear. "Oh, Jennifer. Thank you for calling me. Yes." Tony pulled the cap off a pen with his teeth and began scribbling down information. "Wednesday at eleven...right. Okay. Yes, I'll be there. That's both of them?" Tony nodded. "Okay. Thank you." He sighed. "Yeah, well. I just wish we could have done more back then." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking tired. "Okay. Thank you."

Tony hung up the phone. "Wednesday at eleven, Boss. The place is in Silver Spring--I've got the address here. You mind if--"

Gibbs shook his head. "So long as we're not working a hot case, it's fine." In truth, he thought he might go to the funeral with Tony. He felt much the same way Tony did; he owed it to Natalie Morris and Melanie Osborn to see them laid to rest.

"What was that all about?" Kate asked.

"Funeral arrangements," Tony said briefly.

"For..."

"Cold case. One of the first I worked here. We finally got it solved and the victims are being buried on Wednesday. I asked the victim's sister to call me when she had the funeral arrangements so I could go." Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose again, opening his desk drawer and pulling out the aspirin.

"I don't remember getting a cold case," Kate said with a frown.

"You didn't." Tony downed three aspirin dry and put the bottle back. "It's been open for two and a half years. Agent in San Diego called in Saturday night with new information. Gibbs called me Sunday morning and we spent yesterday working on the damned thing until we managed to close it."

"Why didn't you call me?" Kate demanded, turning to Gibbs. "I'm part of this team too."

"I didn't call you for the same reason I didn't call McGee--and where the hell is he, anyway?" Gibbs asked, looking around. "The case took me and DiNozzo almost two weeks to piece together when we first caught it. We didn't have time to waste getting you two caught up."

"If it waited that long--" Kate began under her breath. She shut up abruptly when Tony stood up, leaning forward on his desk.

"Natalie Morris celebrated her second birthday two months and three days before Carl Lawson killed her, along with her aunt, Corporal Natalie Osborn," he said precisely. "Her parents, Kevin and Claudia Morris, have waited two and a half years to find out what happened to their daughter. The Marine Corps have waited two and a half years to find out what happened to their officer. It wasn't going to wait any more. Not when we could finally nail the bastard and put him away for what's left of his miserable life--and with any luck that'll be another year at most. Would you have wanted to wait one more day if it was your daughter?"

Kate stared at her desk. "I'll go find McGee," she said a moment later, all-but running to the elevator and Abby's domain.

"Not too nice of you, DiNozzo," Gibbs said mildly.

"Yeah, well." Tony shrugged and dropped back into his seat. "This one bugged me."

"I know." Gibbs downed the rest of his coffee. "I remember."

Tony had been furious when they'd had to let Lawson walk. He'd ended up with a hairline fracture in his hand from punching the wall and the day after had been the *only* time Gibbs had ever seen him come to work hungover. Hell, he was pretty sure it was the only time he ever remembered Tony getting drunk on a work night.

"It's over now," he said quietly. "We closed it."

"It's never over." Tony pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. "It's never over, Gibbs. Yeah, we got Lawson, but I've got a double funeral on Wednesday and a mother who *should* look at me and ask why I didn't find her daughter's killer sooner, why it took this long. She doesn't. But she should."

"Tony--" Gibbs paused, unsure what to say. It was rare to see Tony this upset about a case and it was even rarer for him to openly admit it. Gibbs got up and walked over to Tony's desk, looking down at him. "We did everything we could. You know that."

"Yeah, and are you going to tell me you don't dream about the ones we can't solve? The victims we can't find justice for?" Tony asked bitterly.

"Would you believe me if I did?"

"Not a chance in hell." Tony sighed. "God, Gibbs. Sometimes I wonder what I'm still doing in this job."

"You're a born cop, DiNozzo. You do it because it makes a difference and you know it." Gibbs squeezed his shoulder. "You know it does."

"Yeah, maybe." Tony sighed again. "I need coffee." He got up and headed for the break room; Gibbs watched him go, more than a little concerned.

The rest of the morning passed relatively quietly and Gibbs was just about to tell his people to get to lunch when the phone rang. "Gibbs," he said shortly. "Yeah. Okay." He flipped the phone shut and looked up. "Tony, get the truck."

"What've we got?" Tony asked, getting his gun and his bag.

Gibbs sighed. "Kidnapping. Daughter of a Navy lieutenant never came home from school today."

"How old is she?" Kate asked.

"Six."

Tony's face closed down and he left, hitting the elevator button with a little bit more force than necessary. Gibbs swore under his breath. They did *not* need this. Not today.

"Grace Marie Espinoza," Kate said in the truck, reading the notes they'd hastily gotten together. "Six years old. Daughter of Lieutenant Robert Espinoza and Maria Espinoza, stationed at Norfolk. He was deployed on the USS Enterprise for three months, got back fifteen days ago."

"Timing there seems a little suspicious," Tony said evenly.

"He just got home, Tony. You don't think he wants to see his daughter?" Kate asked.

"I think that most kidnappers are parents, Kate. Father gets back, two weeks later his daughter goes missing..." Tony shrugged. "Something to look into."

"Could also be the mother," Kate pointed out. "Or it could be something completely random. The Espinozas aren't going through a separation or divorce. No reason for one of them to take their daughter."

"None that we know about," Tony countered.

"If there is, find it. If there isn't, find out what happened. No point in speculating before we have any data." Gibbs got out of the truck. "Let's go."

Inside the Espinozas' house, Maria sat on the couch, crying into a tissue. Her husband paced the living room, arms folded across his chest. "We haven't heard anything," he said tightly when they entered. "Shouldn't we have heard something by now?"

Gibbs took out his notepad. "What was the last you saw of her?" he asked as gently as he could.

"This morning," Maria said, wiping her eyes. "I walked her to school. I always do. I kissed her goodbye and she went to school and when I came to pick her up she was--she wasn't there."

"Did you notice anyone around?" Kate asked quietly. "Anyone strange, anyone unusual? Maybe someone who's been hanging around for a while?"

"No, nothing." Maria shredded the tissue in her hands. "It's just the usual mothers. There are about six of us--we take our kids to school and maybe go have breakfast or shopping or something. Our husbands were deployed together."

Gibbs nodded. "Kate, go check out the school."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door with a nod.

"Do you mind if I look around?" Tony asked.

"Why?" Espinoza demanded. "What's the point? My little girl isn't here."

"I'll show you her room," Maria said, standing up. She led Tony up the stairs.

"We should have heard something by now. A ransom note, a demand, something!" Espinoza exploded.

"Sometimes they wait. Sometimes it doesn't work like that." Gibbs studied Espinoza carefully. "You don't seem too concerned for your wife," he commented.

"Maria's fine. She can handle herself. It's my little girl I'm worried about. Shouldn't you be out there trying to find her?"

"We will find her," Gibbs said evenly. "But I'm wondering about the timing. You come back and two weeks later your daughter goes missing? Seems a little odd."

"Are you accusing me of kidnapping my own daughter?" Espinoza demanded. "I had nothi--I *love* my daughter, Agent Gibbs. Why the hell would I want to--to--" He shook his head. "You find her, Agent Gibbs. You find my daughter."

Tony and Maria came back in then; Gibbs noticed that Maria looked a bit calmer and Tony looked--well, no one who didn't know him would catch it. Gibbs, on the other hand, could see something was up. He needed to get Tony alone and find out what.

"Special Agents McGee and Todd will be staying here," he said. "They'll put a trace on your phone. If *anyone* calls, we'll be able to find out who and where."

"Do you have a class list?" Tony asked Maria. "Something we can use to contact the other parents or Grace's friends?"

She nodded and went to a desk in the corner, taking out a piece of paper. "Jeanie is her best friend. She and Grace do everything together. And Melody is close with them too."

"Thank you." Tony took the paper.

"McGee," Gibbs said. "Set up a trace on the phone. When Kate gets back, you let her know that you two will be staying here until you hear from me. I want to know every single phone call that comes through here. Anyone contacts them, you hear *anything* out of the ordinary, you contact me, got it?"

McGee nodded and began pulling arcane technological equipment out of his pack. Gibbs watched him for a moment before turning to Tony. "DiNozzo, you're with me. Let's go talk to her friends."

Once they were outside, Gibbs looked at Tony carefully. "What is it?" he asked.

"She knows something she's not telling," Tony said, shaking his head. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but she's hiding something."

"You think she's involved?"

"At this point, I think they both are. I just can't figure out how." Tony pulled a bottle of aspirin out of his bag and downed three more.

Gibbs nodded. That matched his impressions as well. "They're not working together," he stated.

"No. So..." Tony sighed. "Let's go talk to some six-year olds."

The Goldberg house was a few blocks over from the Espinozas'. Neither Gibbs nor Tony said anything on the walk over. When they reached the house, Gibbs showed Mrs. Goldberg his badge and she nodded, moving aside. "I don't know if Jeanie can help you," she said quietly. "But she wants to do something."

"We appreciate that," Gibbs said. "Thank you for letting us speak to her."

She just nodded.

Jeanie Goldberg sat on the couch in her living room, swinging her legs and hugging a plush hippo. "Are you going to find Grace?" she asked in a small voice.

"We sure are." Gibbs crouched down in front of her. "I like your hippo," he said with a smile. "What's his name?"

"Chaim," she said, squeezing him. "My bubbe gave him to me. She said it means life."

"It's a good name." Tony smiled. He sat down next to her, far enough away to keep her from feeling caged in. "I had a horse like that when I was your age. I named him Midnight, cause he was black."

"Really?" Jeanie looked up at him.

Tony nodded. "Uh huh. Sometimes he and I used to go riding together. You ever go play in the desert with Chaim?"

Jeanie giggled. "Sometimes, before bed, I pretend that we're in the desert. There are lions and giraffes and everything."

"I love lions," Tony said cheerfully.

"So does Grace." Jeanie bit her lip, squeezing Chaim tight. "We studied them in school and she said she wanted to be a lion, because they were the kings of the jungle and no one bothered them."

Gibbs' radar started screaming at him. "Was someone bothering Grace?" he asked gently.

"I can't say," Jeanie said, burying her face in her hippo. "It's a secret. She made me promise."

"It's okay, Jeanie," her mother said reassuringly. "You can tell them. Grace won't mind."

"It's a *secret*!" Jeanie looked ready to cry.

Tony leaned over. "How about if I tell you a secret, and then you can tell me yours? That way it's a trade."

Jeanie frowned. "But she'll be mad at me."

"I promise I won't tell." Tony crossed his heart solemnly.

She studied him, biting her lip. "Pinky swear?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Pinky swear."

And there was something so serious about the way Tony hooked his pinky through Jeanie's and shook carefully that Gibbs had to look away for a moment. He looked back to see Tony whisper something into Jeanie's ear. She giggled. "Really?" she asked.

Tony nodded, grinning. "Really."

"Wow." Jeanie considered that. "Okay." She leaned over and whispered something in Tony's ear; it took a lot longer than whatever he'd told her.

Gibbs saw him freeze for a moment, his face closing down for a brief second before he forced the cheerful mask back on for Jeanie. "Thank you," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I think we'll find Grace now."

"I helped?"

Tony nodded. "You sure did."

Gibbs took his NCIS cap and dropped it on Jeanie's head. "Now you can be an official special agent too," he said.

"Cool!" Jeanie bounced on the couch. "Thank you!"

"Thank *you*," Gibbs told her. He stood and nodded to Jeanie's mother before he and Tony left. "What was it?" he asked.

The cheerful mask dropped and behind it was an expression of pure rage. Tony's hands clenched at his sides. "Grace told Jeanie a little under two weeks ago that she didn't think she liked having her daddy home," he said, forcing the words out. "She said he touched her at night and it made her cry."

"Bastard," Gibbs whispered. "Her father was molesting her?"

"Sounds like it to me. Jeanie said that Grace told her mother and her mother said it would be okay, she'd be okay."

"So either she was blind or--"

"Or she orchestrated her daughter's kidnapping to get Grace away from the bastard," Tony finished.

Gibbs nodded. "Or the father did it to get the daughter away from the mother who might stop him."

"Well, now we know how they're involved," Tony said grimly. "Question is, who do we talk to first?"

"Who do you think?" Gibbs asked. "You talked to the mother. What do you think?"

Tony looked off into the distance, sighing. "I think I'm not doing a great job of being objective here, Boss," he admitted. "Kate's the profiler. She'd probably have a better idea than I would."

"Separate it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said evenly. "Don't get involved. We don't--"

"I *know* that, Boss," Tony snapped. "Forgive me for giving in to a moment of weakness."

Gibbs had the sudden, completely inappropriate thought that he wouldn't mind seeing Tony give in more often, especially if it involved him being naked and in bed. He forced it back, wondering where the hell it had come from, and focused on the case. "If the mother knew, she might have taken her daughter to the doctor," he said. It was a valid lead and if DiNozzo couldn't be professional around the parents, he had to find something else for him to do.

"I'll check it out." Tony turned on his heel and left, heading for the car.

Gibbs went back into the house. Maria was sitting on the couch again, while Espinoza leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. His whole body screamed anger, not concern, either for his wife or his daughter. "Agent Todd," Gibbs said, looking at Kate. "I need a moment."

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen. "What is it?" she asked.

"I need your take on the parents," Gibbs said quietly.

"The mother's devastated. The father--" Kate shook her head. "He's angry, but it's more because someone dared to take away something belonging to him rather than because he's covering fear. He hasn't touched Maria since I've been here."

"Do you think either one of them could have planned this?" Gibbs asked.

Kate's eyes widened. "Not Espinoza," she said slowly. "And I'd hesitate to say his wife unless there was a damned good reason. Their marriage isn't all that happy, but I can't see her arranging her daughter's kidnapping because of it."

"What about if she found out he was molesting the daughter?"

"That would be a good reason." Kate shook her head. "You think--"

"The daughter's best friend told us. DiNozzo's finding the doctor now--if the mother knew, she might have taken Grace to get examined."

Kate nodded. "Makes sense, although if she had, the doctor would have had to report it to child services."

"Could be a reason for the father to take the girl," Gibbs pointed out. "Keep the authorities from finding out what he'd done."

"Could be." Kate chewed her lip. "You're sure it's one of them?"

"My gut's telling me it is. I'm just not sure which one yet."

"If I had to profile it, I'd lean toward the mother. Father's been away, so it's just been the two of them. She knows everything about her daughter's life. He doesn't know who her friends are, anything like that. She'd want to protect her daughter." Kate shrugged, clearly thinking. "But I don't know how she'd have done it."

Gibbs nodded. "Find out. What did the teacher say?"

"Grace never showed up for school today. She was going to call Maria after and see if Grace was all right and then Maria called *her* asking if she'd seen Grace." Kate shook her head.

"Did she say anything about changes in behavior, anything like that?"

"I asked, but she couldn't really say. Grace is quiet by nature and pretty reserved, so it was hard for her to tell. And she wasn't actively looking." Kate sighed. "You want me to talk to the mother?"

"I want proof on Espinoza first. Find me some." Gibbs turned and went back into the living room.

His phone rang before he could say anything and he flipped it open. "Yeah. Gibbs."

"Boss, I got something. Grace's pediatrician said that Maria had called her about setting up an appointment for her daughter. She wasn't sure why--Grace wasn't due for any immunizations, and when Dr. Lopp asked if Grace was sick Maria became evasive. They had an appointment scheduled for yesterday and they never showed. Doc said she called about it and Maria said Grace was fine."

"Somehow I doubt that," Gibbs said, walking outside. "Maria must have known the doctor would be legally required to report any signs of abuse she found."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too. I'll be back in fifteen." Tony hung up and Gibbs flipped his phone shut.

He went back inside, leaning against the doorway to the living room. "Mrs. Espinoza, can you tell me why you never made it to your daughter's appointment with her doctor yesterday?" he asked evenly.

Espinoza looked at his wife, startled. "You never told me Grace had an appointment. What was wrong?"

Maria jumped. "Nothing," she said weakly. "Nothing--I thought she might have the flu, but she was feeling better."

"You didn't call to cancel it," Gibbs pointed out.

"I forgot." Maria twisted her hands together. "I--I forgot, that's all."

Gibbs' gut was giving him information he didn't want to hear. She'd done it. He just needed to find out how and where Grace was now. "Mrs. Espinoza, I think we need to talk down at the office," he said evenly.

"What?" Espinoza said incredulously. "You can't possibly think my wife--"

"And I think you should come with us," Gibbs finished, turning to him. "Now."

Back in the interrogation room, Maria sat quietly, looking down at her hands. "You talk to her, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. He wanted to watch Espinoza in the observation room.

Tony looked startled, but nodded. He slipped out of the observation room and into the interrogation room, leaning on the table. "Is she safe now?" he asked simply.

Maria looked up at him. "What?" she asked.

"Your daughter. Is she safe now?"

Espinoza stared into the room. "What the hell?" he demanded.

Tony rested his hand on top of Maria's, comfortingly. "We know, Maria. Just tell us where she is."

"I don't--" Maria was visibly wavering. "I don't know--"

"He can't hurt her now, can he," Tony said quietly. "You took her away. She's safe, isn't she?"

Maria shuddered all over, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, but she was eerily quiet. "Grace came to me a week ago," she said finally, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "She told me--she said--" Maria swallowed. "I had to get her away. I had to keep her safe."

"What did you do?"

"I wanted to leave. I wanted to take her and go, but--he would find us. I knew he would. He did it before."

"You tried to leave before?" Tony asked.

"When she was three. He didn't touch her then, he didn't--but I was so afraid he would. I took Grace and we went to my mother's and we were going to go to Florida but he found us. He came after us and I knew I couldn't get away. But I *had* to protect my daughter." Maria looked at Tony pleadingly. "I had to."

Tony nodded. Next to Gibbs, Espinoza was practically vibrating with rage. "That *bitch*," he hissed. "That--"

"Jeanie's mother knew a woman who helped people get away. I called her about a week ago and we set it up. I told Grace she would be going on a trip for a day or two and I'd join her soon. I took her to school and met the woman and she took Grace. I don't know where she is. She said she'd call me and let me know where to meet them." Maria looked down at her hands, twisting them together. "I don't know where my baby is," she whispered. "I don't know where she *is*. I just know she's safe." She began crying again, silently.

"She's lying," Espinoza said furiously. "She's trying to--"

"Her daughter is *missing*, Lieutenant," Gibbs said coldly. "She has no reason to lie to us." He spun Espinoza around and fastened the cuffs on him, taking pleasure in closing them a bit tighter than usual. "Kate, read this--scum--his Article 31 rights and get him dealt with."

She shoved Espinoza toward the door. "You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to--"

Gibbs tuned her out, looking into the interrogation room. Maria was still crying, huddled in on herself; Tony had one hand on her shoulder. "We'll find her, Maria," he said. "We'll get her back for you. He won't hurt either of you again."

An hour later, they were all working on reports. "What's going to happen to them?" Kate asked, looking up.

"Maria'll get a fine and a suspended sentence for custodial interference, or whatever it's called," Tony said tiredly. "I told her I'd plead extenuating circumstances with the judge. Given the situation, it shouldn't be a problem. We're getting in touch with the woman who took Grace so we can get her back with her mother. Maria's in custody overnight pending arraignment tomorrow, and the bastard is headed to Leavenworth. Hopefully for a long, long time."

"I can't believe she didn't think she had a choice," Kate said, shaking her head. "She didn't think the cops would believe her?"

"From the sound of it, she's been trapped in an emotionally abusive marriage for eight years. She was--is, really--convinced she couldn't get away. She didn't think she'd survive. I'm still not convinced she thinks she's free." Tony sighed. "They're both going to need a lot of therapy."

"Once we get Grace, she'll be with Child Services for a few days. They're going to need to do a physical on her to confirm the allegations, but..." McGee shook his head. "Poor kid."

"At least she got out," Tony said quietly. "Too many of them don't."

Gibbs looked at him sharply. Something in Tony's voice made him wonder if Tony was speaking from personal experience. He wondered if he'd be able to get an answer later, if he asked.

They finished up around seven. Kate slung her bag over her shoulder and left, followed shortly by McGee. Tony took his time, uncharacteristically dawdling over his computer until Gibbs shut off his own light and walked over to him. "They're safe now," he said.

"Yeah. I know." Tony stood up. "I know."

"Something on your mind, DiNozzo?" It was an open question; Gibbs figured he'd give Tony a chance to talk about whatever was bothering him. He didn't want to push it. Yet.

Tony shook his head. "I ever tell you why I left Philadelphia? The real reason, I mean. Not what's on my record."

"No." Truth was, Gibbs hadn't realized there *was* an unofficial reason. He'd gone by what was in Tony's file.

"Yeah. I didn't think so." Tony looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Ask me sometime when I'm drunk."

"You don't get drunk," Gibbs pointed out. "Not when anyone around here can see you."

"Oops." Tony gave him a false, bright grin. "Sorry about that." He brushed past Gibbs and left.

Gibbs shook his head. Damnit--if he hadn't already been worried about Tony, this would have changed his mind. As it was, he found himself getting off at a different exit, turning left instead of right, and parking in the lot underneath Tony's apartment building before he even realized where he was.

Well. Apparently he was going to go check on Tony.

He took the elevator up to Tony's floor and knocked on his door, hearing a groan and some shuffling sounds before Tony opened it. "What are you doing here?" he asked, blinking.

"I came to see how you were," Gibbs said, feeling a little uncertain. "You didn't look too great when you left."

"Checking up on me now?" Tony laughed bitterly and moved aside to let Gibbs in. "Christ, Boss, am I *that* pathetic?"

"No." Gibbs touched his shoulder. "I came because I wanted to see you."

"Just can't get enough of me," Tony said under his breath. "You've seen me. I'm fine. Go home."

"You're not fine," Gibbs told him. "I don't know what's wrong, but you're not fine." He moved behind Tony, resting one hand on the nape of his neck. Tony jumped a little at his touch, but he couldn't hide the shudder that ran through him when Gibbs began massaging the tense muscles there. "It hit you hard, Tony. It always does, when it's kids."

"It does most people," Tony pointed out.

"Yeah. But I'm not asking about most people." Gibbs dug his thumb into Tony's muscles, probing at a stubborn knot. "Why does it hit you so hard, Tony?"

Tony moved away from him, shoving his hands into his pockets. "They're kids," he said as if that explained it all. "They're just kids."

"Did something happen to you?" Gibbs asked carefully.

"Me? No." Tony looked surprised by the question. "No, not me." He shook his head dismissively.

"But someone close to you." That wasn't a question; too much made sense for it to be anything else.

After a moment, Tony nodded shortly. "Friend of mine. Peter McIntosh. He killed himself when he was thirteen because of it."

"It wasn't your fault," Gibbs said softly.

"Tell that to his mother." Tony looked up at the ceiling. "I knew, Gibbs. He never told me, but I knew. I tried to get him to talk to someone, to say something, but...he wouldn't. He denied the whole thing and he told me no one would believe me if I said anything. So I didn't. And when he was thirteen, he took his father's .38 and shot himself in the head."

"It wasn't your fault," Gibbs said again, moving toward him. "You were a child. You couldn't have helped him, not the way he needed. Not in that situation."

"I punched his father at the funeral," Tony said absently. "Started screaming at him that this was his fault, that Peter would still be alive if it wasn't for him. A month later I got shipped off to boarding school." He frowned. "I think I broke his nose."

"Good." Gibbs hid a smile. He could just see a teenaged Tony, all long limbs and dark hair, hauling off and landing one on the man he blamed for his friend's death.

"Yeah, well. My parents didn't think so." Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Did they know?"

"They didn't want to know. They didn't want to acknowledge anything outside their rarefied little world. My father played golf with Peter's dad on the weekends, you know? He wouldn't have given that up."

Some things were just beyond comprehension. This was one of them. "It still wasn't your fault," he repeated.

"Damn you, don't you think I *know* that?" Tony threw at him. "Don't you think I--"

"No, I don't. I think you're still blaming yourself. I think you blame yourself every time we see this, every time we have a case like this. I think you think Peter's death was your fault. It wasn't, Tony." Gibbs reached for him, but Tony twisted away.

"Don't, Gibbs," he said, voice low and shaking. "Don't do this. Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. You weren't there. You don't know--you don't--"

"It wasn't your fault." Gibbs gripped his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault, Tony."

"Let go of me." Tony swallowed, tense under Gibbs' hands. "Let go--damn you, let *go* of me!" He pulled away but this time Gibbs didn't let him go. He moved with Tony, sending them both stumbling and falling onto the couch. "Stop it, Gibbs," Tony swore at him. "Stop it--I don't know what you're doing, I don't--stop it, let me go, just let me fucking *go*!"

"You didn't cause it," Gibbs whispered, not letting go of him. "You didn't, Tony. It's not your fault, just like this isn't your fault. Grace Espinoza isn't on your conscience."

Tony shoved at him, struggling to get out from under him. "Damnit, I know that!" He pushed himself to the end of the couch, huddling in on himself. "I know that," he repeated, but the words rang hollow.

"Why can't you forgive yourself?" Gibbs asked. "You were a *child*, Tony."

"I wasn't a fucking kid in Philly!" Tony exploded at him.

"What happened there?" Gibbs asked, almost holding his breath.

Tony froze. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing important."

"Liar."

"Yeah, so?" Tony gave him a challenging look. "What are you going to do, Gibbs? Beat it out of me? I don't. Want. To talk. About. It."

"Okay." He'd get the story out of Tony some other time. Or he'd do some digging on his own. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing. Go home, Gibbs. I'm fine."

"You're not." Gibbs stretched out his hand, running his fingers through Tony's hair. "You're not, Tony."

"What do you care?" Tony moved his head away.

"I care about you," Gibbs said carefully. "You know that."

"As an agent."

"As more than that. I told you, Tony. Figure out what you want. I'm here when you decide."

"I want to know what you want," Tony whispered. "I want to know what you want from me."

"I want you to be honest with yourself. With me. Do you want this, Tony? Do you want me? Or is this some kind of experiment for you?"

Gibbs had no idea how they'd gone from suicidal teenagers and child molestation to this. Then again, the whole evening was beginning to feel surreal. He ran his fingers through Tony's hair again, almost absently. "Think about it," he said.

"I did." Tony bit his lip. "You called me Saturday night, remember? I was out at a club. Dancing with this...this guy. He kissed me. And--" Tony shrugged. "I liked it. I was surprised, actually. It felt so--it was easy, you know? But it was just a kiss. Nothing special."

Gibbs nodded, waiting for Tony to continue.

"I came home that night and I thought about it. And I thought about what it would be like to kiss you, instead. And--" Tony grinned sheepishly. "I got so hard so fast it hurt, Gibbs." He shook his head. "I don't want--this isn't an experiment. It's scaring the shit out of me, but I...I think I want this. You."

"I don't want to be another notch on your belt," Gibbs said quietly. "You go through women like they're hors d'oeuvres. I don't want that, Tony."

"I know. That's what's scaring me." Tony dropped his head back. "Well, that and the whole gay affair thing, combined with you being my *boss*, and--what about that redheaded lady friend of yours, anyway?"

"Anna?" Gibbs shrugged. "It didn't work out."

"Right." Tony closed his eyes. "Tell me the truth, Boss. Do we have a chance in hell of making something work between us?"

"I don't know." Gibbs stroked Tony's hair back, gently. "But there's only one way to find out."

"And if it doesn't work, we're both screwed, Gibbs. Even if it does, we're screwed if anyone finds out."

"Yeah." Gibbs didn't bother to deny it; he knew the truth as well as Tony did. "It's a risk, Tony. Never denied that."

"You never said anything about wanting this, either."

"I wanted you to make up your mind first."

"And if I hadn't? If I'd decided I didn't want--if I was happy being straight and carefree?" Tony raised his head to look at Gibbs. "What would you have done then?"

Nothing. He'd refused to let himself think about Tony in that light for years. Shoving it back down again wouldn't be *that* hard. "I don't know," he said instead.

"Bullshit." Tony sat up. "Don't lie to me."

"What do you want me to say, Tony? I wanted you to decide you wanted this. I'm not saying I didn't. But I wasn't--I'm *not* going to force your hand. It's been a hell of a long weekend, from the Carter case til now. I don't want you telling me you want me because you're tired and strung-out and can't think straight."

Tony snickered at the inadvertent pun and Gibbs cuffed him upside the head. "Make sure you're certain," he said. "Because there's no going back."

"I know that." Tony looked up at the ceiling again. "God, Gibbs, why did you have to do this to me?"

"You were the one who kissed me," Gibbs pointed out. "This wasn't exactly my fault."

"Sure. Blame the confused one." Tony snickered again. "Take the easy way out."

"If I'd wanted to do that, I'd have accepted your resignation."

"No, you wouldn't. I don't know what you'd have done, but you were never going to let me quit."

Gibbs grinned, acknowledging the point. "I don't let go of my people," he admitted.

"Is that what I am, Boss? One of your people?"

"And then some." Gibbs brushed his thumb over Tony's cheekbone.

Tony smiled a little. "Close your eyes," he said.

"Why?"

"Because if you look at me I'm going to lose my nerve."

Lose his nerve for--Gibbs decided not to ask and just closed his eyes instead.

The couch cushions shifted, dipping next to him. He felt Tony's hand stroke through his hair--and then he felt Tony's lips against his, warm and gentle and firm all at once. It didn't last long; just a simple kiss, really.

It wasn't enough. Not by a long shot. When Tony kissed him again, Gibbs' hands moved to cup his face, holding him close, his tongue sliding over Tony's lower lip. Tony made a soft sound in the back of his throat and--that was it. Gibbs pushed him back on the couch, kissing him again, deeper, harder, teasing Tony's tongue with his own and feeling Tony shudder under him. Tony groaned and arched up against him, hands on Gibbs' shoulders, pulling him down.

Gibbs broke away to breathe, working his way down the side of Tony's neck, smiling to himself at the little sounds Tony made and the way his head fell to the side. Tony gasped when Gibbs nipped the base of his neck, hips bucking up instinctively. "Fuck--Gibbs--" he panted. "God, don't stop--"

His own cock jumped at the idea of fucking Tony, of feeling Tony's body tight and hot around him. He told it to shut up and kissed Tony instead, hard. The sensible part of his brain was screaming at him that they had to stop. This was horrible timing, almost the worst they could have. But when he tried to pull back Tony growled at him.

He'd never heard Tony make a sound even remotely close to that before and it sent sparks dancing along his spine. Tony moved under him, wrapping one long leg around Gibbs' hips, arching up to kiss him again. "Don't stop," he whispered against Gibbs' mouth. "Don't stop."

There wasn't time for them to get the clothes off, no matter how much Gibbs' hands ached to feel Tony's skin. Tony wouldn't let him pull away long enough and with the way they were moving against each other, neither of them was going to last. Next time, Gibbs promised himself, biting down over Tony's pulse and listening to him moan. Next time they'd do this right.

"God--oh, fuck, oh, God, Gibbs--" Tony writhed under him, hips grinding into Gibbs'. One arm was flung over his head; Gibbs grabbed his other one and pinned his wrists. He was half-drunk on the feel of Tony stretched out under him, the taut strength of Tony's wrists under his hands and the pressure of Tony's leg around his hips. Sparks coiled at the base of his spine, getting more intense every time he moved against Tony, every time Tony twisted into him.

He kissed Tony again and again, biting at his lips, grinding himself against Tony's body harder, faster, *more* until Tony froze and came with a low, harsh cry. Gibbs groaned deep in his throat and gave in to his own climax, letting it wash over him with the force of a tidal wave.

Tony's leg slipped off him, landing on the floor with a thud. Gibbs peeled himself off Tony and sat up, looking at him. He was sprawled out on the couch, lips swollen, arms still over his head. One leg was bent against the side of the couch; the other was stretched out with his foot on the floor. He still had his shoes on, Gibbs noted absently. There was a dark spot on the front of his pants and his eyes were closed and he was the most debauched looking thing Gibbs had ever seen.

Tony groaned something incoherent and managed to sit up, blinking at Gibbs. "Wow," he said after a moment.

"Let me see your wrists." Gibbs held out his hand.

"Why?" Tony held out his hands, looking confused.

"Want to make sure I didn't bruise you," Gibbs admitted a little sheepishly. There were red marks on Tony's wrists from his hands but it didn't look like anything more than that. He brushed a kiss over the inside of each anyway.

"I don't think I'd mind if you did," Tony admitted. He didn't seem to be in any rush to take his hands back and Gibbs didn't feel like letting go quite yet.

"I would."

Tony smiled, looking down at their hands. "Fair enough. You, um, hungry? Or something?"

"Yeah, but..." Gibbs hesitated.

"Do not tell me this was a mistake, Gibbs. Don't you fucking dare tell me that." Tony's eyes flashed with anger.

"No. It wasn't a mistake. And if you think that I don't want you you're out of your mind." Gibbs squeezed Tony's wrists gently. "But I think...I want to do this right, Tony. It's been a long week, really, from Thursday until now. This--" He shook his head. "Next time we do this, I don't want it to be because we've both been through the wringer. I want it to be because you want it as much as I do."

Tony took his hands back. "So what now, then?"

"We take it slow. You have heard of that concept, right?" Gibbs kept his voice light and was relieved to see Tony try unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

"Swear to God, Gibbs--of everything I thought might happen one day, the idea of *dating* my boss was never on that list."

"Always plan for the unexpected."

"Spare me." Tony gave him a wry look. "All right. You want to take this slow, that's what we'll do." He leaned forward and kissed Gibbs lightly. "For now."

"Fair enough." Gibbs sighed and got up; his pants were, thankfully, dark but that didn't stop them from being uncomfortable. "I'm going to go home and take a shower. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'll be there." Tony's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You can bet on it."

Gibbs laughed, shaking his head. He was almost afraid to find out what Tony would come up with between now and then.