"Philadelphia." The word tasted like dust in his mouth and felt like lead in his stomach. "You want me to send DiNozzo to Philadelphia."
Jen closed the file on her desk and looked up at him. "For three days, yes. As a senior NCIS agent--"
"Which is exactly why I can't afford to send him," Gibbs interrupted. "He's my senior field agent, Jen. I can't send him off to some...conference. Send McGee, or Ziva if you absolutely need to send someone from my team, but not DiNozzo."
She stood, resting her hands on her desk. "Ziva's not officially an NCIS agent, Jethro. And McGee doesn't have the seniority or the social skills required. DiNozzo's good at schmoozing--you've told me that before. It's a three-day multi-jurisdictional conference in Philadelphia. With budget time coming up on the Hill, I need to show that NCIS can and will play nicely with other agencies--something you seem to keep forgetting!" Jen glared at him.
The problem was, he couldn't really refute that argument. Theoretically, he could mention Tony's prior work experience in Philly--but she'd think of it as another reason to send him there. He had no good argument to keep Tony away from Philadelphia, aside from the fact that Tony was too fragile to deal with the Bitch (as both Gibbs and Abby called her).
Gibbs reminded himself that just because she was out, it didn't mean Tony was going to find her. She wouldn't know he was in town, so unless he sought her out...
Damn. He was just foolhardy enough to do that, and while Gibbs could order him not to, he knew Tony wouldn't listen.
"He'll leave Thursday night and return Sunday," Jen said briskly. "So you'll only be without an agent for one day."
"Unless we get a case over the weekend," Gibbs pointed out.
"There are such things as other agents," she countered. She held out a file folder. "His hotel information and his registration packet. Go tell him, Jethro."
He glowered, taking the folder. "If there are other agents, why not send one of them?"
"I need someone from my best team." With that, Jen sat down, turning to her computer.
Gibbs really didn't have anything to say to that, so he left.
****
"Philadelphia." Tony sounded about as numb as Gibbs had feared. "I'm going to Philly?"
"Three days. You leave Thursday." Gibbs handed him the folder.
"Well, it'll be nice to get a cheesesteak again," Tony quipped lightly, but Gibbs didn't miss the brief flash of fear in his eyes.
"Conference starts Friday and runs til Sunday morning. I expect you back here by Sunday afternoon," Gibbs said matter-of-factly.
"Sure thing, Boss." Tony grinned. "Wonder if I'll be able to look up any of my old buddies from the Philly PD."
"I doubt you'll have time." And that was a warning he knew Tony understood.
"Oh well." Tony shrugged. "Maybe another time."
Gibbs grunted and went back to his own desk. "Doesn't anyone around here have work to do?" he demanded irritably.
****
"So." Tony sat Indian-style on the bed. "Philadelphia."
"Yes." Gibbs didn't touch him, much as he wanted to. He pushed himself up against the headboard instead, watching Tony. "Can you handle it?"
Here, there was no dissembling, no lying, and all three of them knew it.
"I..." Tony looked down at his lap. "I think so."
Abby crawled over to him, kissing his cheek. "I wish I could go with you," she said reluctantly. "Gibbs, do you--"
"If you can find a way to explain to Jen why you want time off the same time as Tony, without making her think you're involved, I'll let you go. But you'd better think fast, because he leaves in two days," Gibbs told her.
She sighed. "I hate it when you're all logical," she grumbled. "What happened to 'trust your gut'?"
"I'll be fine, Abs." Tony kissed her temple. "Really. I'll be in a hotel for three days, I probably won't see a damn person I know, and I'll just go to the stupid panels and listen to people get our name wrong and not know who we are and come home on Sunday."
"You'll call every night," Gibbs told him.
"What are you, my mother?" Tony asked impudently.
"Don't start, boy," Gibbs told him. "It's bad enough I have to let you go. Don't push it."
He was gratified to see Tony drop his eyes. "Sorry, Master," he mumbled.
Abby sighed again and climbed into his lap, burrowing closer than she should have been physically able to do. Gibbs was convinced she was half-cat sometimes, with the way she managed to snuggle close to both of them. He swore he'd heard her purr.
"Philly isn't so far away," she said, although Gibbs wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.
"I'll be okay, Abby." Tony held her close, his cheek pressed against her hair. "I'll be fine."
"You'd better be," she grumbled. "Or I'm going to kick your ass."
"That's his job." Tony grinned.
"I'd let her do it," Gibbs said wryly. "She'd be more creative. And vicious."
She would, too. Abby was a damn good sub, but she was perfectly willing and able to switch. He'd let her play with Tony before, albeit under his supervision.
From the way Tony winced, he agreed with Gibbs. "I'll be fine," he insisted. "Honest."
"You'll be fine. And now this topic of conversation is over." Gibbs' tone didn't leave any room for argument and he was relieved to see both Tony and Abby nod.
****
He was exhausted, stiff, and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, have a beer, and fall into bed--preferably with Abby on one side of him and Gibbs on the other. What should have been a two hour drive--three depending on traffic--had turned into seven, thanks to a five-car pileup on 95. And then he'd had to fight with the hotel clerk who'd lost his reservation. It had taken fifteen minutes, two clerks, and a manager before they'd found the damn thing and given him his key.
At least the room didn't smell like cigarette smoke and the shower had decent water pressure. He stayed in it until the water began to run cool, letting it rinse away the stiffness and the grime of driving all night, especially in a car that wasn't his. He'd thought about taking his baby, but he didn't want to subject her to Philadelphia traffic and the trucks on 95. So he'd taken one of the blue government sedans and driven north in a soulless box that handled--well, it was a government car, and at least he'd get reimbursed for gas.
Okay. One out of three, and that was about as good as he was going to get. He wasn't leaving the room for a beer, and Abby and Gibbs…right. No sense in thinking about what he couldn't have.
He pulled on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and fell onto the bed. It was king-size, like his bed or Gibbs' bed, but the mattress wasn't nearly as comfortable and he didn't have anyone to share it with.
Just as he was thinking about calling, his cell phone rang. "DiNozzo," he said wearily.
"Tony! Where the hell are you?" Abby demanded. "We thought we'd hear from you hours ago!"
"No one checked the traffic? I got held up for four hours on 95, and then the hotel…don't ask."
"You poor thing." Abby sounded sympathetic. "We won't keep you long. Here, let me put Gibbs on."
"Thanks, Abby," he said, rolling onto his back.
He wondered what would happen if he slept through the conference. Someone's ass would get kicked, but he wasn't sure whose. And he didn't really want to take chances that it would be his.
"You mean to tell me you don't know the back roads?" Gibbs asked by way of hello.
"Sure I do, Boss. I just can't get to them when I'm stuck in the middle of the highway, two miles from the nearest exit, and no one's going anywhere because there's a massive accident and we're waiting for the Life Flight helicopter to get there and take whatever survivors there are. By the time it cleared up, it would have taken more time to take the back roads than to just stay on 95." Tony exhaled deeply. "And I'm fine, thanks."
"I know you're fine, Tony. If you weren't bitching at me, I'd know something was wrong."
He had to laugh. "Yeah, well. First panel's at ten tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. It's already two in the morning."
"All right. Call if you need us."
"I will." He hung up the phone, not sure whether that had been a lie or not.
It didn't really matter.
And if he fell asleep hugging a pillow, no one was there to know.
****
Friday passed much the way Tony had figured it would. He sat in on some panels, schmoozed and bullshitted and traded stories, explained over and over what NCIS was, and saved himself from dying of boredom by imagining what Gibbs and Abby were up to without him. He didn't fool himself by thinking they were waiting; they needed their time together just as he needed time alone with Gibbs. It was part of what made their strange threesome work, although he'd still have loved to watch them together.
But the day passed without incident. He even got invited out to dinner with a couple of Texan U.S. Marshals with drawls so thick Tony could have cut them, a remarkably non-uptight FBI agent, a DEA agent who looked as bored as Tony felt, and a really cute ATF agent who looked about sixteen and had to have made the height requirement by the skin of her teeth.
They went out for Mexican, had cold Coronas and spicy salsa, and were still laughing and talking when Tony's phone buzzed at ten.
"One sec," he said, fumbling it out of his pocket. "Yeah, DiNozzo."
"You forget something, Tony?" That was Gibbs' 'I'm not pissed yet but I'm getting there really fast' voice.
It was also the voice that almost always dropped him into headspace, even if it was only a little. Shit. "Guys, I'll be right back," he said, sliding out of the booth and outside. "No, sir," he said quietly, once he was out in the cool air. "I went out to dinner with some people from the conference, that's all."
"Having fun?"
Okay. Whew. He'd skipped 'I'm getting pissed' and gone back to 'I'll let you get away with it this time'. "Yeah," he said, leaning against the rough concrete of the wall. "Well, not the conference so much but the people are pretty cool. I even found a Fed who doesn't have a stick up his ass. Unfortunately, he's in LA."
"That's California for you," Gibbs said wryly. "Not all Fibbies are as bad as Sachs, you know."
"And I'm sure he wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't trying to put me away on murder charges," Tony agreed. "Anyway, I'm fine, I'm out to dinner, and they're going to start wondering where I am in a minute."
"Abby's asleep or I'd let her talk to you. She needed me to take her down hard before." Gibbs sighed. "She's worried about you."
"I'll be fine. Honest."
"I know." Gibbs sighed. "I'll see you Sunday. Don't drink too much."
He hung up before Tony could say goodbye.
"And some things never change," he said wryly, looking at his phone. "Right."
He made it back to the booth in time to catch the tail end of a story about the Fibbie's younger brother, and while he'd missed the beginning, the rest of it was funny enough that he laughed with everyone else.
"Gotta love Charlie," the Fed said wryly. "If it's not numbers, he's kind of clueless."
"It could be worse. He could be like our forensics expert. Nine tattoos, she's afraid of sunlight, and she makes her own perfume that smells like gunpowder." Tony grinned. "That, and she lives on Caff-Pow."
"You do know the caffeine levels in that are one step away from being declared illegal by the FDA, right?" That was Julie, the DEA agent.
"It doesn't surprise me. But that's Abby for you."
"She sounds like fun," one of the Marshals drawled.
Tony reminded himself not to follow up on that statement.
"Anyway," the ATF girl said with a yawn. "It's tired, I'm late, and we've got these stupid panels to get through tomorrow. Anyone else turning into a pumpkin?"
"Yeah," Julie said reluctantly. "And I've got to call home, or my kid will never forgive me. It's bad enough I left her with her grandmother this weekend."
"I've just got to get some sleep," the other Marshal said. He stretched, nearly knocking over a waitress as he did so. "Oops. Sorry, ma'am."
She just rolled her eyes.
They walked back to the hotel, some a little more unsteadily than others. Tony ended up making sure Melanie--the ATF agent who was, somehow, 35 and married--got to her room okay before finding his own.
As he stripped down to boxers and brushed his teeth and got ready for bed, he figured he'd sleep well. He was tired, he'd had a couple of beers, and the conference was fine, if a bit boring.
But he couldn't stop remembering Philadelphia, and he couldn't get her out of his mind, so he ended up spending most of the night tossing and turning, wishing he was home.
Tony wondered if it made him stronger or weaker that he didn't pick up the phone to call Gibbs. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer.
Eventually, he dropped into a restless slumber, waking groggily when the alarm went off at 0700.
He made it through the morning panels with the aid of four cups of coffee and Julie, who sat next to him for two of them and whispered sarcastic comments about the presenters.
But there was no way he was going to get through the two afternoon panels he was supposed to go to. One of them was about some forensic-y thing he didn't care about and no one would notice if he skipped, and the other…he didn't even remember or care.
So he slipped out of the hotel and put on his sunglasses and just started walking, not really caring where he was going. Just…away, out of the hotel.
That proved to be a bad idea, when he stopped and looked at the little sandwich shop in front of him. It had been one of his favorite haunts in Philly--the food was good, the prices were reasonable, and they were open 24/7. He and Barry had gone there after shift sometimes, and he'd met Kristen there more than a few times for a quick lunch date.
Yeah. So much for avoiding old memories.
The smart thing to do would be to walk away. Just go somewhere else, find somewhere that wasn't familiar, someplace he didn't know. But Tony had never claimed to be all that intelligent and he figured that maybe the smart thing wasn't to back down this time. Maybe it was time to confront some of those old memories and make them go away instead.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Ten minutes later, he was seated at a wobbly wooden table by a smeared glass window, a can of Coke and an overstuffed ham and cheese sub in front of him. He had a copy of the paper, a pencil for the crossword puzzle, and was considering life pretty good. The guy behind the counter hadn't really recognized him, for which he was grateful.
Tony pushed his plate away and began working on the crossword, pausing occasionally to have a drink of Coke or take a bite of the half-finished sub. He was about halfway done when a shadow fell across the page.
"Well, well, well," a low voice drawled. "Talk about old memories."
He froze.
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Tony," she said, taking the seat across from him.
"Likewise," he said, raising his head.
She didn't look all that different. A little paler--he supposed prison hadn't given her much opportunity to sunbathe. A little thinner. He saw the highlights in her hair, and the stylish cut--shorter than she'd had it before, more severe. But he'd have recognized her anywhere.
And her eyes were the same. Cool, green--and with about as much warmth as an ice cube. He hadn't realized it then. He saw it now.
"What brings you back to Philly? I heard you'd left," she said, leaning back in the wooden chair and crossing her legs. She was dressed as impeccably as usual; tailored gray slacks and a green blouse that matched her eyes. Tony wondered idly where she'd gotten the Jimmy Choo's.
"Business," he said easily. Just slip on the mask, that was all. Just slip it on and breathe. "What brings you here?"
She shrugged gracefully. "I was hungry. You don't generally get a good sub on the inside."
"Pity, that." Tony gave her a tight smile. "Then again, I'd have to say you didn't get one on the outside either."
Kristen laughed. "I can feel your sympathy from here." Abruptly, she uncrossed her legs and stood up. "I need a cigarette. Care to join me for a walk?"
What the hell. "You didn't used to smoke," he said, following her outside.
"I didn't used to be a convicted felon either," she said, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. "I suppose I've got you to thank for both."
"No, I'd say you've got yourself to blame." Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "In case you've forgotten, Kristen, you broke my collarbone, three ribs, gave me a concussion, and multiple bruises and contusions. I had marks on my wrists for two weeks because of you. And that was after I'd safeworded."
She took a long drag on her cigarette. "I don't suppose apologizing would do any good," she said lightly.
"If I thought I could believe it, maybe." Tony shook his head. "But I know better."
"You've certainly grown a backbone." Kristen stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. "What happened? Find a Mistress who lets you get away with it?"
"No." And he had to laugh, because it was just so ridiculous. "You have no idea, do you? You play at being a Domme, but you're just a sadist with pretensions. What, you think that I'm not allowed to have a mind of my own if I'm someone's sub? Get real."
"Don't you talk to me like that," she hissed.
"Why not? You don't own me, Kristen, and I don't owe you a fucking thing." Tony ran his hands through his hair. "For what it's worth? Yeah. I found someone else, and it's taken this long for me to understand what that kind of relationship should be like, rather than what you taught me it was. Because that wasn't even close to being a real D/s thing, Kristen. That was abusive from the beginning."
"Aw. Poor baby," Kristen said mockingly. "Like you couldn't have gotten out any time you wanted."
"Yeah. And that's my own damn fault. But you ending up in jail? That was all on you." Tony exhaled deeply. "All you had to do was respect my safeword, Kristen. All you had to do."
"You could have handled it!" she snapped.
"But I didn't want to. And I didn't feel comfortable. And it's my right to say no when I feel that way."
He really hoped he wasn't shaking externally as much as he was internally. That…no. He could not afford for her to see that.
She whirled on him angrily. "You always were a pansy," she hissed.
"God. Listen to yourself. It's never your fault, is it? You beating me unconscious wasn't your fault, your ending up in jail wasn't your fault…none of it was, huh?" Tony snorted. "It didn't work on the jury--oh wait, that's right, you pled guilty, didn't you?" He smiled sweetly. "Didn't want your sex life paraded in front of a jury, did you? How many other men would have come forward, Kristen? How many other 'subs' did you hurt?"
Her hand rose. "I wouldn't," Tony said evenly. "This might be a little side street, but we're still in public, you're the one with the record, and I'm a federal agent with commendations in my file going back nearly ten years."
Tony was pretty sure her face wasn't supposed to match her lipstick like that.
"Bastard!" she spat at him, before turning on one of her stiletto heels and striding off down the street.
He waited until she was out of sight before collapsing against the nearest building, shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. His stomach heaved and he doubled over, retching. He couldn't stop until there was nothing left in his stomach, even bile, and he was dry-heaving, having fallen to his knees at some point.
Slowly, he managed to pull himself up and sit against the wall, hugging his knees. If anyone passed by, he didn't notice or care; he was too focused on trying to breathe. It took a good five minutes before he could slowly push himself to his feet and stumble back to the hotel.
His bed was made, the sheets cool, and the room dark once he'd drawn the shade. He drank a few glasses of water from the bathroom tap, brushed his teeth about three times, scrubbed his hands almost raw before he realized what he was doing and made himself stop.
Then he crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head, hugging a pillow to him as tightly as he could.
The cheerful ring of his phone--Abby had set the ringtone--woke him some hours later. He fumbled for it, but it skittered out of his reach and fell on the floor, and by the time he found it the ringing had stopped.
It started again a moment later and he looked at it dumbly, seeing 'Gibbs' in the Caller ID display. Fuck. What the hell was he going to say?
Nothing, if he was smart.
Everything, if he was going to live.
With a groan, he fell onto his back and flipped the phone open. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his forehead.
"Tony? You okay?" Abby. Shit. And she sounded concerned, which was even worse.
"Yeah, Abs, I'm fine," he said. "I was just sleeping."
"Tony, it's not even ten! Are you--"
"Long day and all that. I'm cool." Tony pulled a pillow against him, hugging it with his free arm. "Boring panels have a snooze factor that's off the radar."
"Okay. But if I find out you're lying to me, I'll make Gibbs let me kick your ass."
"Duly noted. Is he around?"
"Yeah, he's working on the boat. Gimme a sec." She put the phone and he heard the thuds of her boots fade away.
He was going to have to tell Gibbs. He wasn't sure how, but he was going to have to tell him.
Just…not with Abby around.
A little while later, he heard footsteps again and then Gibbs picked up the phone. "What's up, Tony?" he asked.
"Um. Could you get Abby out of the room?" he asked. "Please?"
There was a very loud silence for a moment. "Abs, scoot," Gibbs said.
"I knew it!" she said. "You'll let me kick his ass, won't you?"
"Pretty girl, I need to talk to Tony. Go on."
Tony didn't relax until he heard her footsteps--and the door closing. Even then, he didn't really relax.
"What is it?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"Um." Tony sighed. "I. Um." He groaned. "I didn't sleep last night and I couldn't deal with the afternoon panels, so I went for a walk, right? Only I didn't really think about where I was going and I ended up at this little sandwich place I used to go to when I was living in Philly, and I got a sub and it was fine…and…"
"And?"
Tony was sure Gibbs knew. Positive. But Gibbs wouldn't say it for him.
"And Kristen walked in," he said quietly.
There was no reaction on the other end of the phone, not that he'd really expected one. "What happened?" Gibbs asked after a moment.
"We talked. She…" Tony sighed. "We talked, and I told her a few things--like what she'd done wasn't D/s, it was abuse, and that I knew what it was supposed to be like now, and…you get the idea."
"How'd she take it?"
"Not well," Tony said wryly. "She got really mad at me, almost slapped me until I reminded her what a bad idea it would be. Then she called me a bastard and took off."
"And what'd you do?"
"I fell against the nearest building and threw up," Tony admitted. "And then I made my way back here and collapsed."
"Do you need me to come up?"
There was no judgment in the words, just a simple question. Tony knew that if he said yes, Gibbs would be there within hours. There'd be no repercussions because of it, no punishment.
And God, he wanted to say yes.
"No," he said, clearing his throat. "No, I'm okay."
"Do you want Abby?"
That was even worse. "No," he said again. "I--I'll be fine."
"All right." Gibbs didn't warn him, or threaten him, or anything, but Tony knew that if Gibbs found out he was lying, the consequences wouldn't be pretty.
Problem was, he didn't know whether or not he was lying.
"Um..." Tony tried to find a way to phrase it that wouldn't make him sound like a total wimp. "Could you--"
"I'll deal with Abby," Gibbs said, finishing the thought he hadn't been able to articulate. "Don't worry about her."
"How do you do that?" Tony asked impulsively.
"Do what?" Gibbs didn't sound amused, but Tony had a feeling he had that faint smile on.
"Read my mind."
Gibbs laughed at that. "You don't honestly think I'd tell you, do you?"
Tony grinned and rolled onto his side. "It was worth a shot."
"Nice try," Gibbs said wryly. "But no."
"Oh well." Tony sighed. "I should go, try to get some sleep, I guess."
"Are you going to be able to sleep?" Gibbs asked matter-of-factly.
"I don't know." Tony closed his eyes. "But I'll try."
"Call me if you need anything," Gibbs said quietly. "Understand?"
"Yes, Master." Tony smiled a little. "I'll see you and Abby tomorrow."
"Call us when you're near home."
"I will."
Gibbs hung up the phone and Tony flipped his shut, tossing it onto the bed next to him before sighing and rolling onto his back again. He was pretty sure sleep wasn't going to happen. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her--both as she had been, and as he'd seen her today.
God, how had he been so stupid back then? He'd investigated his share of domestic violence cases. He should have known from the beginning. But he'd been fascinated by her and what she offered, and he hadn't seen until it was too late.
He didn't know how long he'd been out when he groggily opened his eyes. Oh God, that had been a mistake. Everything hurt--his head throbbed, his collarbone was sending red lightning bolts through him every time he moved, and he had a stabbing pain in his ribcage that probably meant he had a broken rib or two. And his hands were still cuffed behind his back.
She was nowhere to be seen, and neither were the toys. Probably a good thing.
Okay. Time to get himself out of the cuffs. They buckled, at least, and she hadn't locked them, which meant he could, theoretically, get out.
Time to try.
He had to stop every few seconds to breathe; his ribs and his collarbone were throbbing in agony and his head was making it near-impossible to think, let alone try to get the cuffs undone. It felt like eternity before he got one done and could bring his hands in front of him, unbuckling the other one and throwing them out of sight in the closet.
Moving bad. Moving very bad. Only the phone was next to the bed and he was on the floor. It probably wasn't more than five feet away, but it felt like miles by the time he got to the phone and pulled himself on the bed, panting. Fuck. Ow.
He didn't want to call 911, but he didn't have a choice. He couldn't get to the hospital by himself and anyone he called would only end up calling the EMTs anyway. With a groan and an inward wince for what this would do to his reputation, he picked up the phone and dialed.
He was barely conscious by the time they got there, and in moving him to the stretcher they accidentally jostled him and he blacked out.
Tony groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. His other hand rubbed absently at his collarbone--a habit he'd managed to break except when he was alone.
"Barry--"
"I've requested a new partner."
He stopped dead in his tracks. "Barry, what the--"
"You know why, DiNozzo."
"We're back to last names now? Christ, Wachowski, what the fuck? You didn't come see me once, and now you're requesting a new partner? For fuck's sake, I've coached Mark's basketball team for months now!" Tony stared at his partner--ex-partner--in shock. "What the hell?"
"You know exactly why," Barry said in a low, tight voice. "Fuck, DiNozzo, you think anyone here doesn't know what happened? You want to play kinky sex games in your spare time, fine, so long as I don't have to know about it. But when a cop lets himself get beat up like that? Fuck."
Tony bit back the retort and swallowed the shame and embarrassment. "Fine," he said curtly. "Tell Mark I'm sorry--I'm sure you'll find something to tell him that makes me look like a fool." He turned on his heel and headed for his desk, wondering just how quickly he could type up a letter of resignation.
So much for sleep. Tony gave up on even trying and just let himself remember.
"Hey, Peter?"
"Yo! Tony, what's up?"
"I need a favor."
"Name it."
"I find myself suddenly jobless and soon-to-be homeless. Got crash space for a little bit?"
"Anytime, man. I'll tell Lauren to expect you."
"Thanks, man. I owe you."
"Whatever. Hey, Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"This wouldn't have anything to do with that newspaper article I caught online the other day, would it? Something about a woman and--"
"Yeah. Yeah, it would."
"You want to talk about it?"
"When I get down there, okay? Not over the phone. Once I'm off the pain pills and can get drunk."
"I'll hold you to that."
Peter had been a godsend, Tony thought gratefully. No questions, either from him or Lauren--and how the hell Peter had gotten so lucky, Tony had no idea. He hadn't asked, hadn't said a word, he'd just given Tony the spare room.
"So you're off the pain pills, you're on your third beer, and you know I know a bit. What happened?"
Tony groaned and dropped his head back. "I safeworded."
"And she didn't respect it?" Peter asked incredulously.
"Peter, she not only didn't respect it, she beat me unconscious. Three broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a concussion...I think she stopped when I blacked out. I have no idea." Tony sighed. "They arrested her on assault charges and she pled guilty. Seven to ten, she'll probably be out in five."
"And yet you're down here."
"My partner requested a new partner. No one in the precinct wanted to look me in the eye. They were embarrassed, Pete. Embarrassed that one of their own got beaten up by a woman while playing kinky sex games, as my ex-partner put it. If I'd gotten beaten up, they'd have supported me. The woman thing would be iffy, but it was the last part that did it." Tony took a swig of beer. "I learned my lesson."
"It's not like that, Tony," Peter protested. "I can show you around, introduce you to a couple of people who'd be happy to explain--"
"No." Tony realized how sharp that sounded and grimaced. "Sorry, man. But...no. I've learned my lesson. I'm done."
And he had been done, to the extent that when one of his girlfriends had wanted to play with scarves and blindfolds in bed, he'd made some sort of excuse and had broken up with her two days later. Done. Finito. He didn't care if it made him boring, he was pure vanilla.
Until Abby. And Gibbs.
He saw them leaving together; they didn't notice and it was only sheer chance he caught them. But he did, and it was weird enough that he watched. Not only were they leaving together, but Gibbs had his hand in the small of Abby's back. Something was off, there, and he wasn't sure what it was.
Tony didn't say anything to either of them, but he watched. And he noticed a few things--the way Abby's voice went just a hint softer when she talked to Gibbs, the way his voice went a hint deeper. The way she always seemed a little different, a little...
God. She reminded him a little bit of the way he'd acted with Kristen. Just a little--after all, they were at work--but enough that he knew what he was seeing. Enough that when he looked at Gibbs, he saw that same reaction.
Abby. And Gibbs. And...
He went home the night he figured it out and got quietly drunk, not wanting to think about his friend sleeping with his boss--and desperate to blot out the images his brain conjured up, pictures of Abby tied and marked from Gibbs' hands, his toys, whatever.
Pictures of her crying, bruised and beaten.
God. Abby. The girl he'd half-adored since he'd come to work for NCIS, who almost always cheered up his day.
And Gibbs. Tony refused to think about the number of jerk-off fantasies he had that involved Gibbs somehow.
God. Maybe if he just...maybe if he said something to Abby in passing?
Yeah. That'd work.
Only it hadn't, because not only had Abby confirmed what he hadn't really wanted to know, she'd gone ahead and taken the final step. Three times, she'd said. Three times, and…
And she was his.
Tony hadn't known what to do. Abby was a big girl. She could make her own decisions--and it was Gibbs, after all. If he was going to pick one person to be a careful Dom, it would be Gibbs. And to be honest, he wasn't all that surprised Gibbs was into it. He'd gotten a hint of that vibe from Gibbs since the beginning.
But…Abby.
So he'd gone and talked to Gibbs.
"I told her to be careful." Tony shook his head a little. "I don't want her to get hurt."
"You think--"
"No. I didn't say that. But you work together, and it...it could get sticky, if things don't--" Tony sighed. "Look, Boss. If this is what she wants--if this is what you want--then I'm not going to stand in your way. I don't want to come between you." Well--but no. Not going there.
"So why are you talking to me?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"Because I care about Abby." Tony looked down at the floor before meeting Gibbs' eyes. God, this was difficult. But he had to say it. "I trust you with my life when we're in the field. I always have. But my trusting you with my life isn't the same as trusting you as a Dom. I'm sure you're careful, and I'm sure Abby's smart enough to get herself out of a bad situation. I just don't want her to hold out because it's you."
It hadn't gone well, to say the least. Both Gibbs and Abby had tried to talk to him. He'd thrown Kristen in Abby's face--a mistake, probably, but one he hadn't been able to stop himself from making. And then he'd told Gibbs, which had been bad enough in and of itself. But telling Gibbs--and then all-but-admitting he wanted them both--God. Tony still wasn't sure how he'd made it through work the next day. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have if it hadn't been for the case.
But he hadn't been able to go home that night. And almost unwillingly, he'd found himself driving to Gibbs' place. He'd parked around the corner and for a long time, he'd just sat in the car, working up the courage to either go there or go home.
He hadn't managed either. He'd ended up walking around Gibbs' neighborhood for over two hours, getting drenched and not even noticing. Home…or Gibbs'.
When his feet carried him to Gibbs' front door, he was too worn out emotionally to even be afraid.
He'd never expected what had happened next.
"Tony, don't--let me show you what it's really like, what it's supposed to be."
No. God, no. She didn't mean--"Right, and he's going to let you?" he asked, hearing the panic in his voice. "Or--no, Abby. No. Don't do this to me."
Gibbs rested a hand on Tony's shoulder. "If you want to stay," he said quietly, "it's up to you."
"Gibbs--" His voice shook. No. No. God, they didn't mean what he thought they meant. They couldn't. He couldn't take it.
"Please," Abby murmured. "Tony, please stay. We won't hurt you."
"There's more kinds of pain than physical," Tony managed. "And I want this too much to--" He shut up, shaking his head. He'd already said too much. It was enough that they knew about Kristen--knowing about him wanting them--God, no.
Gibbs had left it up to him. And…he'd chosen to stay.
He'd been doing all right, too. He'd been scared, but between the two of them he was slowly starting to relax. Even the blindfold hadn't bothered him.
And then he'd almost screwed it all up.
When Gibbs wrapped the cuffs around Tony's wrists, threading the chain through the headboard, Tony panicked. "No--please, don't, don't--"
He couldn't even think of safewording; he just had to get out. Now. Abby scrambled off him instantly and Gibbs got the cuffs off him, helping him sit up and take off the blindfold. "Easy," he murmured, stroking Tony's back. "Easy, it's okay, it's just us. No one's going to hurt you."
He was trembling in Gibbs' arms. "I can't--please, I'll stay still, just don't--" Too many memories, too many reminders. He'd had marks on his wrists for a long time after that last night and he'd nearly dislocated his shoulder struggling to get out of them.
"Shh," Gibbs murmured, kissing his temple. "It's okay. It's okay, Tony. I should have realized myself."
How should Gibbs have known? It was Tony's fault. He'd screwed up. Tony shook his head, pressing against him. "I can't--not now. I can't stand being tied like that."
He'd been convinced they were going to make him go, that he'd screwed it up beyond repair. But they hadn't.
They'd both taken him, in their own ways. Abby had ridden him, gasping and panting until she'd come, clenching around him.
And then...Gibbs.
He'd told Gibbs it had been a few years. Truth was, it hadn't been since Kristen. She'd had a strap-on harness she'd liked to use with him, and he'd discovered that he liked getting fucked, so he hadn't protested.
But he'd never felt comfortable enough to let anyone be that intimate with him again.
Until Gibbs. Until that night. Tony had known, when he'd agreed, that this wasn't going to be like Abby. She'd had three chances.
He wasn't going to get another.
"And if I let you have her--will you let me have you, Tony? Will you get on your hands and knees for me, let me take you?"
He knew what Gibbs was asking. All three of them did. And truth was…it wasn't even a question. Gibbs had had him from day one. It wasn't so much of a stretch to make now.
Tony closed his eyes, shuddering. "Anything," he breathed. "Anything you want, sir."
It wasn't until after everything was over that he'd truly fallen apart. He had too many memories of Kristen making him leave, of needing to get it together and get out the door. He'd thought Gibbs--but as with everything else, what he'd thought was the complete opposite of what had happened.
They'd gotten him under the covers, both of them pressed against him, both holding him and murmuring reassurances to him. He'd cried, just a little, painful tears hot against his skin, and he'd fallen asleep with Gibbs' arms around him and Abby tucked tight against his back.
And now…
Tony sighed and rolled onto his stomach. God. Sleep.
He couldn't sleep. He wasn't going to be able to sleep, not without either Gibbs or Abby--or both--or a lot of alcohol. Since he didn't have any of the above, it wasn't going to happen.
But the hotel had a 24-hour fitness room. He changed into shorts and a T-shirt and headed down, figuring he'd get in a good run and workout with the weights. That might tire him out enough to sleep.
To his surprise--and disappointment--the place wasn't empty. Julie, the DEA agent, was running on one of the treadmills. She had headphones on and an iPod strapped to her arm and didn't even seem to notice him.
Just as well; he didn't think he would be much of a conversationalist or even a particularly pleasant person at the moment. He stretched out and set his own treadmill for six miles, focusing on nothing but putting one foot In front of another. Running was like meditation for him; he'd used it innumerable times to clear his mind and think about absolutely nothing.
And like all those other times, it worked. He stepped off the treadmill feeling warm, loose, a little sweaty, and a hell of a lot calmer than he'd been earlier.
"Hey," Julie said, startling him a little. "Didn't see you at that forensics thing earlier."
Tony walked over to the bench, beginning to stretch out. "Yeah, I kind of cut. Gonna tell on me?"
She laughed. "Wish I could have. What'd you get up to?"
"Not a whole lot. Just wandered--it's kind of stupid to be here for a weekend and not see the city, you know?"
Julie grimaced and stretched. "Yeah, I know."
Tony linked his hands together and stretched his arms over his head, groaning a little at how good it felt. "How was the panel, anyway?"
"Boring as hell and completely incomprehensible if you're not into forensics. Which, by the way, I am not. Give me a bad guy to track down and I'm fine. Give me any kind of science stuff and I'll stare at you blankly. I have no idea why I had to go to this forensics thing." Julie wrinkled her nose. "And it didn't help that the speaker was into bugs. I mean...maggots? Ew. He kept talking about how you can determine how long someone has been dead by bugs and all sorts of other things and I'm like 'that's nice, and I'm sure it's important, but...ew."
"Abby--our forensics expert--has given up on me and our boss, but there's another agent she bonds with over computer geekery. I say more power to them." Tony grinned and sat down next to Julie. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"
"Nothing, really. One big panel with everyone, and...then we're gone." Julie shrugged. "And I get to jump on the plane back to New Mexico, and you get to go wherever you're going, and that's about that." She tilted her head, giving him a thoughtful look.
"Something on your mind?" he asked lightly. "I think the bar's closed by now, so we can't go have a drink."
"Nope. I was thinking more along the lines of skipping the drink and seeing if you wanted to go to bed with me."
Whoa. Tony blinked, not quite sure where that had come from. "Um--" How best to put this--'Sorry, Julie, but I'm currently involved in a threesome with my boss and that forensics expert I mentioned, there's a pretty high D/s factor in it, and if I so much as look at another person he'll have my balls on toast'? While funny, he didn't really think it'd be a good idea. "I'm involved," he said instead. "Sorry."
She sighed. "All the good ones. Damn. Tell whoever it is that she's a lucky girl."
"I will." Tony grinned. Truth was, he was the lucky one, but Abby would appreciate the sentiment.
He went back to his hotel room, washed up, and fell into bed. Maybe now he'd be able to sleep.
Sleep came, finally. Unfortunately, so did the dreams. Tony woke gasping, panting, the sheets tangled around him. Reflexively, he rubbed his wrists, making sure they were free, that there were no marks he'd have to hide. It took him a while to calm down and make his heart stop pounding, and breathing normally was an incredible effort.
So much for that.
The phone was on the nightstand, a little silver and black thing that sat there innocuously.
"Call me if you need anything. Understand?"
Yeah, he did. He also knew that he was going to get in massive amounts of trouble for not calling--but he couldn't do it.
"Fuck this," he muttered, getting out of bed. It was three in the morning, which meant that he'd be charged for the night, but just then he didn't care. He packed in a hurry, threw some clothes on, and tossed his hotel key on the bed before he left.
The night clerk blinked at him a little sleepily. "Sir, the conference--"
"Family emergency," he said with a wince and an apologetic look. "I have to leave."
"Understandable," the clerk apologized. "If you'll just sign here?"
Tony scribbled his name and left, finding his car and tossing his bag into the trunk. Question was, where to go next? He couldn't go home, much as he wanted to--it was bad enough he knew he'd fallen apart like this. He didn't think he could handle Abby's sympathy or even Gibbs' silent understanding.
"I really, really hope Lauren doesn't kill me over this," he muttered, digging out his phone. Speed dial #6, after Gibbs, Abby, work, pizza, and Chinese. He hit the button and waited.
One ring. Two. Thr--"H'lo?" a very sleepy female voice answered.
Shit. Lauren. "Hey, Lauren, it's Tony," he said quietly. "I really, really hate to wake you, but--"
"No," she said around a yawn. "You okay?"
"Not really." He started the car and headed for the highway. "Is Peter there?"
"Mm-hmm. One sec." Tony heard an annoyed grumble in the background, followed by Lauren murmuring something, and then the phone changed hands.
"Tony? You okay?"
He let out a deep breath. "No," he admitted. "No, and..."
"Where are you?"
Tony smiled a little. He could almost see Peter, probably pushing himself up to sit against the headboard of the big cherry sleigh bed, shoving a pillow behind his back. And Lauren, lying back down and pulling the covers over her head. "I'm on my way out of Philly," he said.
"What the--" Peter lowered his voice. "Tony, what the fuck were you doing in Philly?"
"Some conference thing. Don't ask. I'm probably about two hours away--can you meet me?"
"Meet me at that diner you like, the one by the old high school. Two hours, give or take. Okay?"
"Yeah." Tony's throat tightened a little. "Yeah."
"I'll see you then--and, Tony?"
"Yeah?"
Peter grinned; Tony felt it through the phone. "You're buying."
Tony didn't get a chance to respond; Peter had already hung up. He smiled a little, not sure whether to laugh or cry, and flipped his phone closed.
One of the best, he'd told Gibbs. One of the best.
He'd have to buy Lauren something to make up for this--flowers, or candy, or another teapot to add to her collection. He'd ask Peter.
Thank God there was no traffic, because he wasn't really paying attention to the road. He drove on autopilot, keenly aware of the phone next to him and knowing that when Gibbs found out about this, he was dead meat. Hopefully, Gibbs would understand a little and cut him some slack. He didn't want to think about Abby.
When he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, there were a few other cars there. Not many, but a few. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went inside, getting a booth near the back. Peter wasn't there yet and he ordered coffee, wrapping his hands around the faded white mug.
A couple minutes later, Peter came in, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. Half his hair was sticking up, he wore jeans and an old sweatshirt and sneakers, and he was still yawning as he slid into the booth across from Tony.
The waitress came by, holding a coffeepot. "Coffee, hon?" she asked.
Peter shook his head. "Hot chocolate," he said sleepily.
She grinned. "Getting in touch with your inner kid, huh? You two need another moment to look over the menu?"
Tony glanced at Peter and they both shook their heads. "Cheeseburger and fries," Peter said around a yawn, handing over the menu. "No pickle."
"You got it. And you?"
"Short stack of pancakes and a side of bacon," Tony told her.
"Be right back with your chocolate." She took their menus and strolled off.
"Hot chocolate?" Tony asked wryly. "Since when did you drink that?"
"Since I don't drink coffee and I'd rather not have a Lipton teabag floating in a mug of warm water--and that's assuming they have decaf." Peter wrinkled his nose. "Not worth it."
"Good point." Tony had almost forgotten Peter's aversion to caffeine.
"So." Peter leaned back against the booth. "What the fuck were you doing in Philadelphia?"
"Law enforcement conference thing I couldn't get out of." Tony sipped his coffee and grimaced; even by Gibbs' standards, this was bad. He set the mug down and picked up some sugar packets, dumping the contents into his mug.
"Just too many memories?"
"Something like." Tony sighed. "I saw her. I was at this little sub shop I used to go to, and...she walked in."
"Oh, hell." Peter spared a moment to smile at the waitress who set his hot chocolate down. "What happened?"
Tony rubbed his forehead. "We talked. I know, I know, bad idea, but..." He sighed. "She almost slapped me, I pointed out the stupidity of the idea, and she stormed off. And then I threw up."
"Couldn't stay in Philly after that, huh?" Peter grimaced. "Can't say I blame you."
"I tried. But..." Tony shook his head. "Gibbs is going to kill me."
"For leaving? Or not telling him?"
"Which do you think?" Tony raised an eyebrow.
Peter sipped his hot chocolate, licking the whipped cream away from his upper lip. "I think sleeping with your boss isn't a great idea, and adding a third person into that is an incredibly difficult dynamic to pull off normally. I also think that when you toss in the D/s dynamic, you've got something that's damn near impossible to make work. I also think you've been happier since this started than you have been in years, and I think you've found a damned good thing." He took another sip of chocolate. "Which is why I'm telling you not to fuck it up."
"I know." Tony buried his face in his hands. "I know," he said again, voice muffled. "I just can't face him right now."
"Why?" Peter asked.
"Because…" Tony sighed. "Because I don't know what he'll do. He could punish me for this, for not telling him and running away, and God knows I deserve it. But I don't know if he will or not, and I'm afraid he won't. I'm afraid he'll just note it, and remember it, and not say anything."
"So it'd be easier for you to handle if--what, if he punished you? Tony, that's insane."
"Yeah, it is. And I know it is. But I can't...he's hard on me as my boss, you know? He expects perfection, and he's the first one to criticize when he doesn't get it. All of us, not just me. And that's the way it should be. But at home..." Tony exhaled deeply. "At home, it's different."
"What does he expect from you at home?" Peter asked.
"Honesty," Tony said quietly. "Complete and total honesty. He'll let both me and Abby get away with stuff--although if we're pushing it or crossing a line he'll let us know--but he demands honesty. And…and I don't know if I have been. I don't know if I've been honest with him since before I left. And I know he knows it. But he won't say a damn thing, and…I don't know what to do."
Peter spooned some of the whipped cream up, licking the spoon clean before he answered. "You Catholic boys never change, do you?" he asked idly. "It's all about guilt and penance. Nothing ever comes free."
"This is what I get for talking to a comparative religions professor," Tony grumbled.
"Seriously, Tony. Listen to yourself. Your father--he didn't give a flying fuck what you did. He didn't even notice half the time. But Gibbs does."
"So why is he doing this?" Tony demanded. "Why is he--"
"Because you're being harder on yourself than he ever could or would want to be," Peter interrupted. "Because sometimes punishment isn't about what others do to us, it's about what we do to ourselves. I will lay you odds that if he knows you as well as you think he does, he's waiting for you to finish ripping yourself apart and go back to him."
"God, I hate it when you're smart," Tony said wryly.
Peter grinned. "Hey, that was the split. I was the brain, you were the jock."
"Which is why you went to Princeton and I went to Ohio State," Tony said, managing a real smile for the first time that night.
The waitress came back with their food then. "Careful of those plates, boys, they're hot. Enjoy." She left, and Tony picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.
"No, you went to Ohio State because they offered you an almost-full scholarship and you could get away from your father without needing his money," Peter reminded him. "I went to Princeton because my grandmother insisted."
"And because you were smart."
"Well, yeah, that too." Peter rolled his eyes and poured some ketchup on his plate.
"So you think I should go home," Tony said after a few moments of eating in silence.
"Are you done beating yourself up over her?"
Tony groaned. "I don't know. God...I should never have gotten involved with her. You'd think I'd have known the signs."
"You were like a lot of people, Tony. You didn't think it could happen to you." Peter shrugged. "Can't fix it now, so you might as well stop blaming yourself for it."
"Have I mentioned it that I hate it when you're smart?" Tony glared at him over a bite of pancake.
"Seriously, Tony." Peter leaned forward. "Let her stay in the past. You have--from what you've told me--a great thing going back home. Don't let her fuck it up."
"It was because of her that it all started," Tony said, his mouth twisting in what could have been a smile. "Did I ever tell you that?"
Peter blinked. "No, you didn't. What happened?"
Tony sighed. "I knew about Abby and Gibbs--well, I had a guess. And Abby confirmed it. And...I just--it was Abby. So I talked to Gibbs. And he talked to Abby. And Abby got pissed at me, and I ended up telling her about Kristen, and then I had to explain it to Gibbs. And then I went over to Gibbs' to apologize to them both and before I knew it..." He shrugged.
"So it was indirectly because of her that it started. Don't let it be directly her fault that it gets screwed up." Peter ate a french fry.
"I so hate you."
"Right." Peter grinned. "You hate me so much you called me at three in the morning and woke up my wife because you needed someone to talk to. By the way, you owe her a teapot. She's into silver lately."
"Duly noted." Tony sighed and slumped down in his seat. "How's Katie? And Daniel?"
To his relief, Peter accepted the tacit change of subject. "Katie's fine. Prettiest girl in her class--"
"Which she gets from Lauren, of course," Tony interrupted.
"As well as the tallest. Yes, I know, my children got my brains and Lauren's looks."
"No, I'd say they got Lauren's brains as well," Tony teased him.
Peter rolled his eyes. "And Daniel's starting first grade this fall."
Tony smiled and sipped some more coffee. "I guess I should go home," he said reluctantly.
"I guess you should." Peter leaned forward. "Tony, if they both care about you half as much as you want them to, it'll be okay. You might even get the penance you're looking for." He smiled. "But there's only one way to find out."
"I hate you." Tony sighed and took out his wallet, tossing a twenty onto the table.
"I know."
They walked outside, into the cool dark air. Peter had parked a couple spaces down from Tony and they walked to their cars in silence. "You gonna be all right?" Peter asked, digging out his keys.
Tony smiled a little. "I don't know."
Peter reached out and gripped his shoulder. "You can always stay with us," he said quietly. "But I don't think you'll need to."
"I sure as hell hope not." Tony pulled Peter into a hard, tight hug. "Thanks, man," he said, stepping back.
"Anytime."
Tony slid into the driver's seat and turned the key. If he was lucky, he'd be home by dawn.
****
For once, traffic cooperated, and it was just before six when he parked in front of Gibbs' house. The sun was starting to rise, giving everything that watery gray feel that made it all seem surreal. Which was good, because Tony wasn't sure reality was going to be a good thing.
He let himself in quietly and set his bag down, taking off his shoes and making his way upstairs as quietly as he could. He barely remembered to skip the squeaky seventh step before getting to the top and ducking into the bathroom to strip down to his boxers.
The bedroom door was open a crack; when he pushed it open he saw Abby sprawled out on her stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, the covers tangled around her thighs. She wasn't wearing anything and he saw the fading marks on her ass.
Gibbs was sleeping on his side, facing Abby, one arm reaching out for her, his fingers brushing her shoulder. The sheet came up to his waist, and as far as Tony could tell he wasn't wearing anything either.
There wasn't room for him on either side, but if he was careful he could crawl into the middle.
"Get in here," Gibbs mumbled as he was trying to figure out how to do it without waking either of them. "She won't wake up."
He should have known better than to think he'd be able to not wake Gibbs. Tony smiled wryly and crawled into bed carefully, sliding down under the sheets and closing his eyes.
Gibbs drew him close, tucking Tony's head under his chin. "Sleep," he murmured.
Abby made a soft sound and rolled over, draping an arm over Tony's back. She cuddled up against him, sighing in her sleep.
Tony yawned and settled down. This wasn't done yet and he knew it. But he'd been welcomed home, and back into bed, and sleep was rushing over him like a tidal wave.
The rest could wait.
Author's Chapter Notes:
So much for avoiding old memories.
Chapter End Notes:
This is part of the Applied Psychology universe; takes place after Positive Reinforcement. Please read the previous stories before this one.