"You're not nervous, are you?"<
I give him the same answer I gave him the last time he asked that question almost two hours ago as we were tossing our bags into the trunk of his car. "No, Tony, I'm not nervous."
He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Liar."
I glare at his profile, not sure if I'm more pissed that he caught me lying, that he didn't even have to look at me to do it, or that he had the guts to call me on it. How the hell could I not be nervous? I'm meeting his family---not blood relatives but family in every way that matters. My future in-laws. Shit. I've done that song and dance four times already and I have never, ever been good at it.
And this time---this time they will not only pass judgment they will probably do it in a language I don't understand. How the hell am I supposed to be able to defend myself if I don't have any idea what they are saying or accusing me of? No, no reason to be nervous at all.
"Mike likes you," Tony offers quietly.
That's supposed to be reassuring, I know. But Mike is one guy. There are three other brothers, a spouse, a fiance and let's not forget Momma C. She's the one Mike said would be the hardest because Tony was her favorite. No one would measure up when it came to being good enough for her Tony. Shannon's mother was the same way. There wasn't a man alive she'd have thought was good enough for daughter. Pretty sure I'd have been the same way if Kelly had lived long enough to start dating.
"Jethro," Tony's voice is a little hesitant, and I give him my full attention because of it, only now realizing how my silence might seem to him. His fingers of his left hand restlessly flex around the steering wheel, "Are you sure you want to spend Thanksgiving with them? We don't have to."
No, we don't have to. But Tony wants to. A man would have to be a blind, deaf mute to have missed just how excited he is. I promised myself I wouldn't ruin his holiday. Promised him we'd spend it with the people who were most important to him. So, like a good Marine, I'm going to suck it up.
"Yes, Tony, I'm sure." I smile at him, and lightly squeeze the hand I've been holding almost from the time we got in the car. Probably how he knows I'm nervous about the whole thing.
Tony bites his lower lip. Clearly I wasn't as reassuring as I thought I was. "We could always call and--"
"And what? Tell them I got cold feet?" I arch an eyebrow, when he glances over at me, daring him to accuse me of being a coward. Mike already knew the entire team had vacation scheduled. It wasn't like we could claim to suddenly be busy. I wasn't going to make myself look worse by lying to people I hadn't even met yet.
Tony's lips twitch upward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Could always just elope. Tell them we are running off to Vegas to get married by Elvis."
I can't help chuckling at that. "Didn't Mike already do that?"
"Yeah." Tony laughs softly. "And what a huge mistake that was."
"Not going to put us in the same category, Tony."
That earned me a warm smile. I don't get that one as often as I'd like, so each time is something special.
"Are we going to be the last ones to arrive?" Not sure why it matters but I can't help thinking that if they have some sort of attack, divide and conquer thing planned, it would help to be prepared. Maybe have a plan of my own.
The sidelong look I get lets me know Tony knows what I'm thinking and why I asked. His smile brightens. He's not quite grinning--yet. My fingers itch to head smack him but that would mean letting go of his hand. I decide to let it slide for now.
"Sammy and Dan won't be down until tomorrow."
That would be Thanksgiving Day. I'd suggested we wait until then to head to the cabin ourselves, start out bright and early, but Tony casually vetoed the idea. He said leaving after work was normal for him, and he's always made the drive down a little short on sleep. Can't decide if that reassured or worried me, so I opted not to think about it.
I wish we'd have been able to get the entire week off, maybe get a few days just to ourselves, but it wasn't possible. We needed every damn minute to get things cleared off the desks and ready for the entire team to be out of commission for four days; seven in Ducky and Ziva's case. They got the extra days because: one, they are flying overseas, two, Ducky's got seniority and no one would think of denying the man, and three, Ziva's still in Jenny's good graces. Always pays to have friends in high places. Never quite figured out how to cultivate useful friends myself?at least not when it came to stuff like that.
"Gabe and Carol got in Monday."
"Where do they live?" I can't remember if he's ever told me that before or not.
"North Carolina." Tony gives me a quick smile. "But the job takes him into Virginia quite a bit so he's able to visit Mike and Momma C fairly regular."
"What does he do?"
"Gabe works for the state. He handles a lot of the water quality monitoring for the APNEP." Tony chuckles softly. "And yes, I had to ask him several times what that the hell that was."
"So what is it?" I didn't recognize the acronym. Working for the government you sometimes forget acronyms aren't real words, but actually stand for something.
"Albemarle-Pamlico National Estuary Program," Tony neatly translates. "It covers about 30,000 square miles and is the second largest watershed region in the country. Only the Chesapeake Bay watershed is bigger."
No mistaking the pride in his voice. Given how instrumental Tony was in Gabe's education, it's nice to know he's putting it to good use. I opened my mouth to ask what his fiance Carol, does for a living, but Tony beats me to it.
"Carol works for the National Park Service. Cape Hatteras." Tony shrugs one shoulder. "She's part of the preservation team. Never quite sure if that means she's trying to save the lighthouse or if she's part of the whole save the island crew."
I can't help raising both eyebrows. "Save the island?"
"Yeah, you know---the outer banks are always eroding and moving. So they are really strict about the whole ?stay on the path and don't trample the grass' thing." Tony glances over at me. "You've never been there?"
"No." I shake my head. "Most of the travel I've done was job related."
"We'll have to go sometime then."
Back when I was struggling to come up with a birthday present for him, I'd thought a trip to the beach would be a nice gift. Course, I was thinking something local, but the Outer Banks would make for a nice get away.
"Maybe this spring," I suggest. We probably won't be able to get much time off for Christmas. And it was never easy to predict how the new year would shape up. "By March we should be able to get a weekend free, take a few days off."
Tony grins broadly. "Sweet."
It takes so little to make him happy. Honestly. Don't think I've ever met anyone as easy to please.
Tony's grin fades a bit. "Zeke was supposed to get in last night but his flight got delayed."
Not uncommon this time of year. And I'm not sure it isn't an FAA requirement of some kind for every commercial flight to be fucked up regularly. "He's in California, right?"
"Yeah."
"What does he do?" Other than knowing he's gay, I really didn't have much information on him either.
"Works for an architectural firm." Tony sighs deeply. "He's not very happy there. Last e-mail I got from him he said he was polishing his resume."
I wonder if Zeke has moved as often as Tony had before settling in at NCIS, but I wasn't sure it would be okay to ask. Tony's short track with other police forces had been something of a sore spot for him. I could see him being defensive on his friend's behalf.
"Mike's been talking to him, helping him work through whatever the problem is, so he might stick with it. Finish out the year at least."
"Would he stay because Mike told him to?" I really didn't care so much about Zeke but I wanted to get a better sense of how much authority Mike had.
"Mike suggests things. He's not really into giving orders."
I have a feeling that's a matter of semantics. Although, Mike said he was trying to get Tony tell me about how he felt for awhile before we got together. So maybe he doesn't really have that much authority. But if Mike wanted me gone, I'm sure I wouldn't stand a snow ball's chance in hell. The rest of them might still want me gone. And I can't see the fact Mike likes me being much of a swaying point.
I am damn glad there isn't a mark on Tony from our last case. Mike was ready to clean my clock for accidentally hurting Tony the last time we were at the cabin. Been a long time since someone put me on the spot like that. Hell the man threatened to dismember me if I hurt Tony again. And Sammy is supposed to be the one good at threats. I have no trouble believing that. He was a SEAL. They know a thing or two about inflicting damage.
"Zeke is going to pick up Momma C on his way."
"She's not already there?" I was sure she would be. Had this image in my head of a grand matriarch holding court. Silly, I know, but it was there just the same.
Tony shakes his head. "Ever since Mike's place became the central meeting point they take turns picking her up. Gives each of them some time alone with her."
"Were you part of that tradition?"
He hesitates for a moment. Long enough for me to know he's debating whether or not to tell me the truth. I wait. I'll know if he's lying. And I'm curious as to why he would even think he should.
"Until I started at NCIS, yeah, I was part of that tradition."
Shit. I flinch. Can't help it. One more thing in his life I fucked up because I was a selfish, self-centered prick. I read his file, knew he was estranged from his family and never once thought he might have other people important to him. I wouldn't have cared if I had known. Back then the job was supposed to be all that mattered?because it was all I had.
"Knew I wouldn't get the holidays as a newbie, Boss," Tony says quietly. "Kind of standard practice. Low guy on the totem pole works the days no one else wants to."
"You haven't been a newbie in a long time, Tony." I'm not letting him exonerate me. After five years with NCIS, and more than three years as my senior field agent he should have been able to pick any holiday he wanted. And he probably would have if not for me. "I should have--"
"Coulda, woulda, shoulda." Tony gives me an exasperated look. "Sammy couldn't always be the one to pick up Momma C either, you know."
"Not because his boss was a selfish bastard."
"No, but what we do isn't any less important."
"Not so important you couldn't have time?"
"Stop. Right. There." Tony pulls his hand from mine, pointing a finger at me. "Name one time in the last sixteen years when the job didn't trump everything for you."
"This isn't about me!"
"You sure about that?" Tony gives me a hard look. "This stuff didn't bother you until we got together."
That isn't fair. It's not just because we are sleeping together. "I didn't even know about Mike and his family until a few months ago. And we got together at the same time."
Tony glares at me before focusing on the road again. "I could have said something. I choose not to."
"You choose not to because you knew I'd be an ass about it."
"Well, duh."
I am momentarily stymied by that sarcastic and decidedly honest answer. "Damn it, DiNozzo, I'm trying to admit I was wrong."
"No, you are feeling guilty. Not the same thing."
"How is that not the same?" I want to smack him. "No one feels guilt over doing the right thing."
"Killing Jeffery White was the right thing to do and I felt a hell of a lot of guilt about that one." Tony almost snarls when he says that.
Fuck. I'd forgotten about him having shot White. The guy was a cold-blooded killer intent on slicing Tony's throat, so it's not like I lost a lot of sleep over Tony shooting him. It never occurred to me Tony might have felt bad about it. I mean, I know he said he liked him, but White had already killed several people and was poised to do the same to Tony. Kill or be killed should have left him feeling vindicated, not guilty.
"That was self-defense." Can't hurt to remind him.
"So was your making me stay with you over the holidays." He looks at me, and I can't look away. "Tell me different."
I swallow hard. Technically?he's right. I used him to keep painful memories and loneliness at bay. I was protecting myself, but that doesn't make it right.
"I didn't even know what the hell I was doing." I hadn't. I was so far into denial I was in danger of drowning. Wasn't until later, when he left for a week, that I got a clue why I felt so compelled to make him stay close.
"I didn't get it then either, Jethro, but I do now." Tony gives me a tight smile. "And if I hadn't wanted to stay, I wouldn't have. You know my track record better than anyone. So don't be getting all bent out of shape over this."
Bent out of shape? I fist my hands. This is something I should be upset about for God's sake. I hurt him.
"Tony, it wasn't right?"
He slams on the brakes so fast the seat belt tightens painfully against my waist as it keeps me in the seat even as I reach to brace myself against the dashboard. I'm idly impressed by how he manages to control the skid enough to slide us off the road onto the gravel shoulder. My being impressed doesn't override my concern over how and why we've stopped. Tony loves this car. He wouldn't abuse it.
Tony slams the gearshift into first with more force than necessary and sets the emergency brake that the same time. He turns off the car before releasing his seatbelt, turning in his seat to face me squarely.
"Did you not hear a word I said?" He leans in close, eyes boring into mine, holding me still with just the force of his gaze. "You didn't take a goddamn thing I wasn't willing to give. You. Don't. Have. Anything. To. Feel. Sorry. Or. Guilty. About." He punctuates that last sentence with hard pokes to my chest.
I want to be pissed. I want to yell at him and tell him how I knowingly took advantage of his need for approval, I abused his trust, cost him more than I can repay, that I never even said thank you and deserve to get a head smack---but what I really, really want is to kiss him. I'm not sure which of us moved first. Doesn't matter. He's kissing me just as fiercely as I'm kissing him.
God---He tastes so good. Could live on his kiss. Devour him and not be satisfied.
It's not like I'm always the aggressor, but it's not often that he just takes complete control without asking. Tony's not asking now, and that doesn't bother me one bit. Can feel his long fingers fisted in my hair, so tight it almost hurts. He's got me pinned against the seat, holding me where he wants me. Not that I'm trying to get away. Hell no.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. He moans, but it doesn't sound quite right to me. I break the kiss, jerking away from him, wanting to know what's wrong.
"Gear shift," he pants, making it sound like a curse. He reaches around me and hit the lever that makes my seat recline. Not quite horizontal, but I'm pretty damn close.
Tony gives me a savage grin as he releases my seatbelt. Given his height, he moves with surprising ease in the tight confines of the car, straddling my lap and bracing himself with his hands on my shoulders. "That's better."
Not going to argue with him. This is a lot better. I like having his weight on me---warm and solid.
He leans in and captures my mouth again. I shudder when he uses his tongue to caress the roof of my mouth. I swear his tongue is a lethal weapon.
I can feel his hands tugging at my shirt. Damn glad I'd shucked the jacket before we got in the car. One less layer to have to fight with.
Both of us are too eager, too damn hungry to really bother trying to wiggle free of our clothes. Just ruck it up, push it aside, shove it far enough to finally get to skin. hot, smooth, amazing skin. Much better.
Times like these I think Tony has got to have more than two hands. They are everywhere?touching, stroking, gripping, teasing, pinching, soothing. I love, absolutely and positively, love his hands.
"Want you," he whispers, voice rough and needy. "Always have, you schmuck. Always will."
"Same," I growl back at him. I'm not sure if we're still fighting or not, but I don't care as long as we don't stop.
The car is just too small and I want to howl in frustration. Not enough room to just take him or let him take me. Both of us are too tall and I'm too old to fold up like a pretzel. No supplies either---those are in the trunk---damn it.
"Tony?"
"Shhhh." He places a finger against my lips. His pupils are so large, his eyes look black. "I got an idea."
That's all the warning I get before he's moving. Not quite sure how he manages to swing his legs up over the driver seat---especially with his jeans still bunched up around his thighs, but he does. His hands are now holding my hips and his feet are braced against the back seat. I can immediately see and feel the advantages of this position. He's breathing on my cock and I've got his within easy reach.
I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of his arousal. Damn. If I weren't already hard, I would be now.
Never really tried this before. Takes me a minute to figure out how to ride out my own pleasure as he licks and sucks me while I do the same to him. Good thing he's got a tight grip on my hips---the instinct to thrust into that wet heat is so strong?I could have choked him if he wasn't pinning me. I got the same hold on him, holding him just where I want him as I treat his dick like an all day sucker.
When he swallows me whole, it's all I can do not to scream. I can't quite return the favor because deep throating isn't a skill I can lay claim to, but I know how to make that little detail unimportant. Little tongue swirl over the tip, some suction, a little humming, and I can feel just how close he is. His muscles flex and quiver under my hands, and he fights against me, trying to sink into my mouth. It is such a rush---this power play between us.
Think he's doing everything I do---but I don't really know. Too much---so good---so good. Sensations passing back and forth like echoes. Can't tell if I'm leading or following now.
I'm so caught up in his building orgasm, my own almost takes me by surprise. I arch into him, nearly choking as I try to swallow when he does the same to me. He tastes bittersweet, like dark chocolate. I make damn sure I don't miss a drop. I can breathe later.
Both of us are panting and shaking in the aftermath. I'm vaguely aware enough to be grateful he has the good sense and courtesy not to just collapse onto me. In bed, I wouldn't mind, but this bucket seat isn't nearly as forgiving.
His breath ghosts over me when he sighs. Makes me wish my recovery time was good enough for another round right now, but even when I was sixteen, I didn't recover that fast.
Tony starts to move away, working his way back to the driver's seat, and I'm half tempted to tell him to stay. But I doubt being poised over me, weight on his hands and heels, is all that comfortable for him. As I start to straighten my close and bring my seat back up, Tony laughs softly. He reaches over to cup my face, leaning in and resting his forehead against mine.
"We should make up more often."
"Have to fight for that," I point out wryly. His eyes really are an amazing shade of green.
"Always got to see the down side, doncha, Jethro?" He's grinning when he asks so I know he's not really upset or angry.
I pull back just a little, searching his face. "Did we settle this?"
"Don't know?" He shrugs, looking sheepish. "Did we?"
I turn my head enough to place a kiss in his palm. "You should have said something."
"And you should have been less of a bastard. But we both did what we thought was right at the time."
I can hear my Nanna saying something about arguing over spilt milk. It was done, can't undo it. I can learn from this mistake and not do it again. I smile. "I think it's settled."
He rolls his eyes and laughs. Tony gives me a quick kiss before settling into the driver's seat, still putting the final touches on adjusting his clothes. "Good thing I didn't tell Mike what time we'd be there."
"Ya think?" I laugh.
Could just be the endorphins. Could be Tony saying he wants me---always has and always will, so what anyone else has to say doesn't matter. But I'm not nervous any more.
Story Notes:
This is the next story in the Box Step Series. If follows after Not Quite Seeing The Box
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and Tony are on their way to Mike's for Thanksgiving. Gibbs is a little nervous about meeting Mike's family.
Chapter End Notes:
This is the next story in the Box Step Series. If follows after Not Quite Seeing The Box