Unlikely associations for Sexycazzy
Aug. 22nd, 2010 04:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ncisficathonApologies for not getting it posted earlier, hope it's worth the wait.
Title: Unlikely associations
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ceindreadh
Written for: Sexycazzy
Prompt: Gibbs/Palmer - they make an unconventional couple but it works well. The team doesn't know about them until Palmer is kidnapped and secrets come out. (Would be a bonus if one of the secrets was Tony/Abby)
Archive: Ask first
Genre: Slash
Pairings: Gibbs/Palmer, implied Tony/Abby
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: approx 9,100
Summary: They say that opposites attract, and you don’t get much more opposite than Gibbs and Jimmy. It's all going well until outside forces intervene.
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“Run this sample up to Abby, Mr. Palmer,” said Ducky. “Hopefully she’ll be able to get a DNA match.”
“And then we’ll be able to catch the killer, Doctor Mallard,” said Jimmy, adding his signature to the chain of custody label. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He turned to head for the door, only to almost bump into Gibbs who had entered unobserved. “Agent Gibbs! I was just, that is, Doctor Mallard and I, we um...I have to go now...” He darted around Gibbs and beat a hasty retreat towards the elevator.
Ducky sighed as he watched Jimmy leave. “I really wish you wouldn’t sneak up on Mr. Palmer like that. It’s very...intimidating of you. Honestly, sometimes after you’ve shown up, he’s all thumbs and I find it very hard to get a good days work out of him.”
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Jimmy balanced his medical textbooks under one arm as he locked the car door. Turning around, he almost dropped the books as he saw Gibbs standing in front of him.
“Apparently Doctor Mallard thinks that I’m ‘intimidating’ you,” said Gibbs.
“I...I can see how he might make that diagnosis,” said Jimmy. He could feel his heart pounding as Gibbs took a step closer. “All the symptoms would fit...increased respiration, flushed skin...shaking hands.” Gibbs was so close now that Jimmy could smell a faint trace of gunpowder and sawdust on him. “Of course, there are...other symptoms...less obvious ones.”
“And what might those be?” asked Gibbs, his breath ghosting softly against Jimmy’s face. .
“A dry mouth, light headedness...all common symptoms which would have enabled Doctor Mallard to make a differential diagnosis of a mild panic attack. Especially given the presence of a potential trigger. Of course, there was one symptom which if he had noticed, might have brought him to a different conclusion...”
“And what symptom might that have been, Palmer?”
“The same one you’re displaying right now, Gibbs.” Jimmy reached out and caressed Gibbs’s crotch, reveling in the sensation of Gibbs’s hardness beneath his hand. A second later, Gibbs’s hand was on the back of Jimmy’s head, pulling him in for a hard bruising kiss that made Jimmy’s knees go weak. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Gibbs pulled away.
“Too many eyes out here. Inside, now,” growled Gibbs in that voice that made Jimmy’s heart pound just a little faster every time he heard it.
“Now,” agreed Jimmy. He picked up his books which – not for the first time when Gibbs was around – had fallen unheeded to the ground.
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The books were long forgotten as Jimmy lay sprawled on the bed, listening to the water running in the bathroom. Hearing the shower shut off, he summoned up the energy to roll over and face the door, not wanting to miss a second of the sight of Gibbs, fresh from his ablutions. Jimmy wasn’t disappointed when minutes later, Gibbs, wearing just a towel, returned to the room.
“You’re awake,” said Gibbs, moving over to the bed and dropping a kiss on Jimmy’s lips. “Thought I’d tired you out.” It was a source of pride to him that he was able to match the younger man move for move in the bedroom. Probably not the sort of strenuous activity his Marine Corps Sergeant had in mind all those years ago when he’d bellowed “You’ll thank me for it later” as he’d run the new recruits ragged. But the lessons learned in his youth had stayed with Gibbs, and in bed with Jimmy, he was never more glad that he’d kept up his personal fitness regime.
“You did,” said Jimmy as he stretched his limbs on the bed. “I could stay here for hours!”
The sight of Jimmy lying there, his body an open invitation, made Gibbs’s cock twitch under the towel, and he had to force himself not to RSVP immediately. “Your place, your choice.” Turning around, he deliberately let the towel drop as he bent over to pick up his clothes. “Me, I’ll be in the kitchen. You want something to eat, better join me.” He heard a rustling noise behind him, and seconds later a pair of arms were wrapped around him. Gibbs smiled as he leaned back into Jimmy’s embrace.
“You mean you’re not going to serve me dinner in bed?” said Jimmy, resting his chin on Gibbs’s shoulder. “Or maybe there’s something else you’d rather I ‘eat’.”
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Things hadn’t always been so relaxed between the two of them.
Gibbs and Jimmy had settled into a sort of routine on the nights when neither of them were busy with cases or lectures. Gibbs would show up at Jimmy’s apartment, they’d have sex; Gibbs would shower and then leave. It worked well for both of them, taking the benefits without any attempts at friendship.
The first time had been the night after Jimmy had plowed his car into Suskavcevic’s van. After the processing and paperwork had been completed, Gibbs had wandered down to Autopsy to see how Palmer was doing. He’d expected to find him being lectured to by Ducky on the foolishness of attending a crime scene when specifically instructed not to do so. Not to mention the added inadvisability of using one’s own car to prevent a suspect fleeing said scene. Gibbs figured that he’d let Ducky do the heavy lifting with regard to reprimanding his assistant. Maybe Ducky would finally start dishing out a head slap or two. But when Gibbs got to Autopsy, Ducky had already left for the night.
“Doctor Mallard got a call from his mother’s nurse,” Jimmy had told him. “I believe he said she was accusing her of being a Russian spy.” He’d hesitated briefly, “The nurse was the spy, not Mrs. Mallard, that is, she’s not a spy, but Mrs. Mallard thinks she is and keeps trying to speak Russian to her and…”
Gibbs was the first to admit that he wasn’t always that good at reading people who weren’t suspects. If he didn’t, then DiNozzo would have been the first to point it out, closely followed by Ducky or Abby. But he could tell that this wasn’t Palmer’s usual inane babbling that could be tuned out without any repercussions. So Gibbs had driven him back to his apartment, grumbling something about how Ducky would have his hide if he’d let ‘Mr. Palmer’ make his own way home. And of course he’d made sure the kid got to his door safely, and when Palmer offered him coffee, promising to put half the jar in the cup if necessary, Gibbs had seen the gesture for what it was, a need to talk to somebody about the adrenalin rush he’d had that day. As it turned out, talking wasn’t on the agenda, and neither was the coffee. It wasn’t surprising, Gibbs had told him later that night. “You’ve been through a lot these past few days, Palmer. The shooting, then today at the trailer park. That’s twice in two days you could have been killed or seriously injured. Now you’re coming down from the adrenalin rush and feel the need to prove to yourself that you’re still alive. Sex gives as good a buzz as any drug.”
Jimmy had propped himself up on one elbow, looking at Gibbs incredulously, “I thought *I* was the one supposed to be the med student, with all the insights into psychology!”
Gibbs had shrugged as he picked up his clothes. “I’ve been hanging round Ducky a lot longer than you have. You pick up some things.” His voice was muffled by his shirt as he pulled it over his head, “Especially when he points them out to you on a regular basis.” Fully dressed now, he sat down on the bed facing Jimmy. “I know you probably think it’s all over now and everything will go back to normal. And I hope for your sake that that’s true. But you need any sort of help getting through this; you talk to somebody, somebody you can trust. Ducky will be able to recommend a counselor if you don’t want to talk to him.”
“And what if I don’t want to ‘talk’?” Jimmy reached out and caressed Gibbs’s thigh.
Gibbs carefully removed his hand, squeezing it briefly before standing up. “Then you ‘talk’ to me.”
The second time had been the night after Suskavcevic’s preliminary hearing. The D.A.’s office had insisted on calling upon Jimmy to testify, wanting to pin an attempted murder charge on Suskavcevic as well as all the other crimes. Afterwards, Gibbs had again taken Jimmy home, and this time he was the one who’d made the first move. It hadn’t been entirely altruistic on his part, the memory of the previous occasion, Palmer’s firm young body writhing beneath him, the amazing things he had done with his tongue, Gibbs would have been lying to himself if he’d claimed he hadn’t wanted to revisit the experience. And while this time had turned out to be less of an adrenalin rush than the first time, both of them felt the better for it.
And so it had continued for a while. Neither of them had expected anything more than sex, that is, neither of them had admitted to wanting anything more than sex. At work, nothing changed. Gibbs still pretty much ignored Jimmy unless he got in his way at a crime scene or made random observations while Gibbs was discussing cases with Ducky. Jimmy still stumbled over his words and sometimes his feet when in the same room as Gibbs. The days were the same as they had always been, but the nights…those were turning out to be most memorable.
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The night things changed, Jimmy glanced up as he heard Gibbs come back into the bedroom after his shower. “Hey,” he said, as Gibbs started to pull on his clothing. “I was thinking…that is, if you weren’t in a rush…” he bit his lip, trying to think of the right words. He’d been trying various phrases, running through all the potential sentences in his mind as he waited for Gibbs to come back. “I thought that maybe we could have something to eat…” His voice trailed off as he saw Gibbs look at him. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy gathered his thoughts and continued, “It’s just that you’re going to go home and eat, and I’m going to fix dinner and eat, and we could maybe have dinner together…” The last few words came out in a rush, as if eager to escape before Jimmy could change his mind. He wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, after all, it wasn’t like he and Gibbs had much to say to each other. But there were nights, after Gibbs had left, when Jimmy’s apartment just seemed so big…and empty…and silent. Not that Gibbs’s presence was a guarantee of conversation, thought Jimmy.
“You want to have dinner…with me…” Gibbs’s voice was carefully neutral.
“I was going to fix myself something anyway,” said Jimmy. “It’d be no trouble to make enough for two.”
Gibbs looked at Jimmy for what seemed like an eternity to the younger man. Finally he shrugged and said, “Sure, why not.”
Jimmy’s face lit up as he smiled involuntarily. “Great! I…I’ll just have a quick shower. You make yourself comfortable; I’ll just be a few minutes.”
True to his word, a few minutes later Jimmy was showered and clean and toweling himself dry vigorously. It wasn’t until he started to pull on his jeans that he stopped in his tracks thinking “What on earth am I going to cook?”
Gibbs, meanwhile, had taken the time to wander around Jimmy’s tiny kitchen. A part of him was wondering just why the hell he’d said yes to Jimmy’s invitation. Things had been going just fine, thought Gibbs. Jimmy, while inexperienced at first, had proved to be an able and willing student of everything Gibbs could teach him in the bedroom. And outside of the bedroom, well, there wasn’t really any ‘outside’. They had sex and then went their separate ways, and that was working out just fine. There was no need to change anything. But Jimmy had seemed so eager, and in all honesty, Gibbs didn’t really have anything to rush home for. So he’d said yes, and seen how Jimmy’s face had lit up, and Gibbs couldn’t really remember the last time somebody had been *that* pleased by the prospect of his company. Gibbs automatically started opening cupboards as he waited for Jimmy to join him. Not that he was being nosy or suspicious or anything, but not having any prior experience of Palmer’s culinary abilities, he was idly curious as to what might be on the menu.
“See anything you like?” Gibbs turned around, a snappy retort on his lips, which died unspoken as he saw Jimmy in the doorway toweling his hair dry. He was wearing a t-shirt that rode up with every movement of his arms, and a pair of faded jeans that clung in all the right places.
“You could say that, yes,” Gibbs finally managed to get his voice under control. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before. Maybe I should speak to Ducky about relaxing his dress code a bit.” He watched with some small amusement as Jimmy blushed furiously.
“I should get dinner started,” said Jimmy, quickly.
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The first meal was not exactly a great success. Whether it was the distracting effect of having Gibbs watching his every move or just Jimmy’s general lack of culinary experience, but eggs ended up on counter tops instead of in mixing bowls, saucepans boiled dry, knives drew blood while chopping, and when finally they ended up having grilled cheese on toast, Jimmy even burned his hand on the grill while melting the cheese.
Food wise, things could have gone better…but in terms of enjoyment, Gibbs couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a pleasant meal. He’d helped with the clearing up before leaving, assuring Jimmy that the next time things would go a lot more smoothly. “You mean you’ll let me cook for you again?” Jimmy had asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t say that,” Gibbs had grunted, “But I might teach you *how* to cook without killing yourself!”
Gibbs had kept to his word over the following months. While not every rendezvous at Jimmy’s apartment resulted in dinner, Gibbs still found himself spending more and more down time with the younger man. He didn’t always show up empty handed either. Most of the time it was just provisions for whatever meal they planned to have that night. Gibbs even brought his own special batch of coffee, and one of the first ‘cooking’ lessons was how to make it just the way he liked it. Other times it was more practical things, like a washer and tools to fix a leaky faucet in the bathroom. And once, Gibbs had even given Jimmy a belt buckle knife of his very own. “Steak tastes better when it’s cut with a real knife,” he had said, offhandedly as he’d given it to Jimmy. “Just don’t cut any of your fingers off with it, or Ducky will use it to give me an in depth lesson in anatomy!”
It had just been a shame that that night’s steak had gotten somewhat overcooked while Jimmy showed Gibbs just how appreciative he was of his gift. But it had led to the creation of ‘Gibbs’s cooking rule 1’, namely no distractions while the meal was being prepared. Afterwards of course, distractions were certainly allowed.
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Gibbs smiled as he leaned back into Jimmy’s embrace.
“You mean you’re not going to serve me dinner in bed?” said Jimmy, resting his chin on Gibbs’s shoulder. “Or maybe there’s something else you’d rather I ‘eat’.”
“Eating meals in bed just means crumbs in the bedclothes,” said Gibbs. “And as for the other…” In a quick movement Gibbs turned in Jimmy’s arms until he was able to kiss him on the lips. “Have to have your dinner before you get dessert!”
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Dinner with Gibbs was usually a quiet event. Never one for conversation at the best of times, Gibbs was even more taciturn when it came to mealtimes, preferring to focus on one thing at a time. Which was why it was during the clearing up stage that Jimmy broached a subject which had been on his mind for a considerable period of time.
“What Doctor Mallard said,” Jimmy started hesitantly. “About you intimidating me.”
“What about it?” Gibbs took the wet plate from Jimmy’s hands and started drying it. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“I know that. It’s just that I don’t like the thought of him being worried, unnecessarily worried about me.” Jimmy scrubbed determinedly at another plate, not wanting to look Gibbs in the eye. “And I thought that maybe we could put his mind at ease…tell him about…us…”
“Jimmy,” Gibbs sighed, “I thought we decided that it’s nobody else’s business what we do in our spare time.”
“No,” Jimmy let the plate slide back into the water and turned to face Gibbs. “You were the one who said that things weren’t going to be any different between us at N.C.I.S. just because we were having sex. And I went along with it because I thought; well I thought that sex was all it was. And I didn’t mind, honestly. But that…that was before all this…” He gestured around him, nearly splashing water on Gibbs. “And I hate the thought of lying to him every time he enquires into my plans for when I’m not at work. I...I’m not saying I want to change my faceb…put a notice on the bulletin board. But at least we could let Ducky know what’s going on.”
“The best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself,” said Gibbs almost automatically. “Second best is to tell…”
“One other person,” interrupted Jimmy, “There is no third best. Does that mean I’m just your dirty little secret?” Jimmy pulled off his rubber gloves and threw them beside the sink. He felt Gibbs move behind him, his strong arms wrapping around and holding him close.
“That is *not* what you are, what we are.”
“So what are we then?” asked Jimmy, tiredly.
“I don’t know, friends with benefits? Fuck buddies?” Gibbs rested his chin on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I *do* know that these evenings with you…I enjoy them a hell of a lot more than I could have imagined six months ago. But I also know that having other people breathing down your neck is the best way to spoil something. You really want people to be talking about you behind your back? Stopping their conversations when you walk past in case something gets back to me?”
“I wouldn’t…” Jimmy was silenced by a kiss on his cheek.
“I know that you’re the soul of discretion,” said Gibbs. “Ducky wouldn’t have you on his team if you weren’t. He trusts you and I do too.”
“You do?” Jimmy turned around until he could look Gibbs in the eye.
“Of course I do.” Gibbs seemed genuinely surprised that Jimmy could have any doubt. “Wouldn’t let you near my firearms of course, not unless you were field certified.”
It was Jimmy’s turn to silence Gibbs with a kiss, “I’m being an idiot,” he said, finally.
“No, you’re not,” said Gibbs. “You got something to say about us, about anything, you speak your mind. If I can’t deal with your opinion, well that’s my problem. Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll have a quiet word with Ducky. Set him straight on what’s going on. Course he’ll probably want to know what my intentions are, make sure I’m not gonna besmirch your honor or anything.”
“And what will you tell him?”
“That I intend to besmirch your honor on a regular basis for the foreseeable future. Gibbs kissed Jimmy full on the lips so hard that it almost took his breath away.
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Later, after dessert, and indeed after ‘dessert’, Jimmy lay sprawled on the bed, head pillowed on Gibbs’s chest. “You don’t have to say anything to Doctor Mallard,” he said, finally. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I said I would,” said Gibbs. “And you’re right. You shouldn’t have to lie, not to Ducky. I shouldn’t have put you in that position in the first place.”
“You can put me in any position you like,” Jimmy yawned as he snuggled in closer to Gibbs. Beneath his cheek, he could feel Gibbs muscles ripple as the older man laughed. A hand came down in what was closer to a caress than a headslap.
Gibbs ran his fingers through Jimmy’s hair, almost involuntarily. “Jimmy,” he said softly. There was no response. “So much for the stamina of youth,” he said to himself as he realized the younger man had fallen asleep already. Gibbs tried to maneuver his way out of the bed without disturbing him, but with every move, Jimmy seemed to cling even more tightly. Finally, Gibbs gave it up as a bad job and settled back down in the bed. He’d get up early and head back home to shower and change before work. First chance he got he’d speak to Ducky; put his mind at ease regarding Jimmy. And after that, well, he’d just see how things went.
As plans went, it wasn’t a bad one. But even the best laid plans fell victim to circumstance, and this one was no exception. Work took priority over personal lives, and several days passed without Gibbs finding the right time.
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Ducky disconnected the call on his mobile and walked over to Gibbs. “Jethro, I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a bind.”
“What’s the matter, Duck?” asked Gibbs, concern in his voice.
“It’s Mother,” said Ducky. “That was her nurse on the line. It was such a lovely day that she took Mother out for a walk around the neighborhood, only now she’s lost her house keys. Well, when I say ‘lost’, I mean that Mother decided that swallowing them was the safest way to carry them.”
“Mrs. Mallard okay?”
“Oh she’ll be fine…it’s only a small key after all. But it means that they’re stuck outside the house until I can get home.”
“Don’t you have a spare key hidden outside?” asked Tony, as he snapped a picture of the crime scene.
“Yes, Tony,” said Ducky, “But you really don’t want to know where she put that. Jethro, I’ve finished my preliminary examination of the body, Mr. Palmer can oversee its removal back to N.C.I.S.”
“You want me to organize a ride for you back to town?” asked Gibbs.
“If you’d be so kind. Perhaps one of the local police officers could be of assistance. There’s another spare key inside the house, I’ll be able to leave that one with the nurse and return to my post forthwith.”
“The way the cops drive,” said Tony, “You’ll probably be back at N.C.I.S. before Palmer gets there!”
“You mean before *you* and Palmer get there,” said Gibbs.
“What?” Tony looked up from his camera. “Oh come on Gibbs, why do I have to ride back with the body? No offence Ducky, but your van is creepy. Let McGee do it.”
Gibbs swatted Tony almost automatically, “Finish taking the photos and help load the body.”
Tony sighed as he moved away, “On it Boss.” Walking over to where Jimmy was busy laying out the body bag, he called out, “Hey Palmer, heads up!” quickly snapping a shot of the younger man. “There we go, your first time bringing a body home without Ducky’s supervision. That’s one for the scrapbook.”
Gibbs overheard the conversation and couldn’t help but smile. It was a pity that he couldn’t have seconded himself to accompany Jimmy; the drive back to the Navy Yard would have been all the more pleasant. But he was running the investigation and there was evidence to collect, witnesses to interview, a whole heap of work that had to be done before the day was over.
Later, Gibbs would wish that he’d made a different choice; that he’d taken Tony’s place by Jimmy’s side, no matter how it would have looked. But that was later. For now he was just wishing that the case would be just as open and shut as it appeared, so that neither he nor Jimmy would have to work late.
It wasn’t until the frantic call from Abby that he realized the consequences of his decision.
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“Well I’ll start calling him Ducky,” said Jimmy, “The day you start calling Agent Gibbs ‘Jethro’!” There was no response from Tony, and Jimmy glanced over at him. “Tony, I said…”
“Heard you the first time, Palmer,” said Tony, his gaze fixed on the wing mirror. Glancing up as they neared a junction sign, he added, “Take the next left.”
“What? But that’s not the right road back,” protested Jimmy.
“Don’t argue,” said Tony, frowning as he once again watched the wing mirror. “Just do it.”
Jimmy glanced quickly at Tony. He wouldn’t put it past the man to deliberately guide him incorrectly just to be able to joke at his lack of a sense of direction, but Tony looked to be serious. “Okay,” said Jimmy, “But if we get lost, I’m making sure you get the blame.” He started to slow down as they approached the turn.
“Okay, once you’ve turned, step on the gas,” ordered Tony. He was silent for a few seconds after they’d made the turn, before cursing under his breath.
“Are we being followed?” asked Jimmy.
“Not sure,” said Tony, “But we’ve had the same SUV behind us for the last ten miles. A good road like that, nobody stays behind a van that’s going as slow as you if they don’t have to. *And*, they’ve just made the same turn as we did. Could be a coincidence…”
“But Gibbs doesn’t believe in coincidences. What…what do we do now?”
“You keep on driving,” said Tony, as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll have Abs run the license plate. Maybe it’s just a little old lady who doesn’t like going faster than fifty, and she just happens to live down this road…or maybe not…” He hit the speed dial.
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Abby was bored. She had finished her report on the latest batch of evidence to pass through her lab. Her computer was crunching numbers for a trajectory analysis which would surely give her bowling team the edge in the next tournament. Major Mass Spec and his buddies had been cleaned and prepped and were ready and waiting for the next batch of evidence to be fed into their hungry little mouths. The lab was as clean and tidy as she could make it, short of irradiating it. In short, there was nothing for Abby to do. So she did cartwheels.
Abby was on her fifth cartwheel across the floor when her phone rang. “Yes!” she punched the air triumphantly as she recognized Tony’s ring tone. “Tony!” she squealed into the phone. “Are you on your way back with lots of nice juicy evidence for me to sort through? Not I want anything *too* juicy, I mean it’s really hard to get the stains out of the Petri dishes, and I know they’re all sterilized and everything, but they don’t look as cool with juice stains. Well, apart from the ones I brought home to use as saucers, but I couldn’t re-use them in the lab anyway, so it wasn’t really stealing, and...”
“Abby!” Tony’s voice was barely audible through the connection. “I need you to run a plate for me…”
“Tony, you’re breaking up,” said Abby, “Wait a minute, let me get something to write with. I knew I shouldn’t have tidied up so well.”
“It’s Kilo, Delta…” There was a burst of static on the line before Tony’s voice came back, “Three, six…”
“Tony, I didn’t get all that,” said Abby, quickly tapping on her keyboard to bring up the search engine. “Kilo, Delta what?”
“Black SUV, Kilo, Delta, Uniform…”
“TONY! LOOK OUT!” Jimmy’s voice came over the connection.
“Tony! What’s going on?” Abby could hear the sound of metal impacting and the screech of brakes. “Tony!” And then the line went silent. She sat there hyperventilating for a few seconds, before automatically keying in the partial plate. Almost as soon as she hit enter, the land line on her desk rang. Abby grabbed it, “TONY!” she squealed into the handset, “What happened? Are you…” “Agent Cooper, I told you, that ballistics report was emailed to you an hour ago…” “Then get somebody from tech to show you how to open attachments…” “NO! I do *not* have time to bring you the hard copy now, it’s in the internal mail system…” Abby disconnected the call and then hit speed dial. “GIBBS! Something terrible has happened to Tony!”
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Gibbs pulled up to the crash scene, his heart sick with worry. Through Abby’s babbling, he’d managed to pick out the one important detail…that something bad had happened. He’d ordered her to track Ducky’s van through the GPS locator and send police and paramedics to the scene, although inwardly he was praying that it would be an overreaction…that maybe Tony’s phone had gotten dropped and broken because Jimmy had hit a bump in the road…that the reason neither of their phones was contactable was because of a lack of service in the area…that maybe this whole situation was just a badly executed practical joke…that there was *some* reason as yet unthought-of that would mean Jimmy would be waiting for him beside the van, maybe a little abashed at having caused such a commotion. Gibbs didn’t care what the explanation was, just so long as Jimmy was there to give it. But Gibbs’s gut was churning as he switched off the ignition, and he knew things weren’t going to be so simple.
McGee and Ziva’s guts were also churning somewhat as they climbed out of the car, but this had as much to do with Gibbs’s driving as with their concern for their teammates. McGee sucked in his breath sharply as he saw the skid marks on the road leading to the broken crash barrier. “Oh man,” he said, as he followed Gibbs to the edge of the road where he finally caught a glimpse of the M.E.’s van, a few hundred meters away, down a steep slope and wedged against a sturdy tree. To his relief, the van - while certainly dented and damaged - appeared to be structurally intact. “Boss, I’ll get the camera? And Ziva…”
“I will speak to the first responder,” said Ziva, exchanging a worried glance with McGee as Gibbs barely acknowledged them before climbing over the intact portion of the barrier and making his way down to the van.
The N.C.I.S. agent in him told Gibbs to avoid the tire marks on the slope so as not to contaminate potential evidence. “Evidence,” Gibbs swore under his breath. He didn’t give a damn about evidence. All he cared about was making sure that his people were okay. He could see a figure sitting on a rock beside the van, a light being shone in his eyes by a paramedic, right arm cradled against his chest. “DiNozzo!” called Gibbs as he approached. “What the hell happened?” He looked around, but there was only a single paramedic in attendance. “Where’s Jimmy?” Gibbs watched as Tony blinked a few times before looking around in confusion.
“Palmer? I…he was…” Tony started to stand, but swayed slightly and sat down, one hand on his head.
“Sir,” said the paramedic, “This man needs medical treatment.”
“Where is Jimmy?” asked Gibbs again. Tony’s next words made his blood run cold.
“He’s gone, Gibbs,” said Tony. “The guys that ran us off the road…they took him...” The words were barely out of Tony’s mouth before Gibbs had him slammed up against the battered van.
“What the hell do you mean ‘they took him’! Why the hell didn’t you stop them?”
“Gibbs,” said Tony, his face pale. “We hit the barrier, and the next thing I know I’ve got a face full of airbag, and I’m alone in the van. Believe me, I wish I could have stopped it…” He slumped back against the van as Gibbs let him go.
“Boss…”
Gibbs turned to see McGee and Ziva standing uncertainly behind him. “Process the scene,” he growled. “I want every inch of this area covered. You find so much as a speck of dust that doesn’t belong here, I want to see it.”
“On it, Boss” “Yes Gibbs” they echoed as they went about their task.
“Gibbs.”
Gibbs turned his attention back towards Tony, who was being supported by the paramedic. “Gibbs, I…”
“Don’t, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs. “Just…” He took a deep breath to calm himself, “Go get yourself patched up. I’ll deal with you later.” It wasn’t Tony’s fault, the rational part of Gibbs’s mind told him. Tony was a good agent, and Jimmy certainly considered him a friend. If it had been humanly possible for him to do so, Tony would have protected Jimmy from whatever danger they had faced. But as Gibbs watched Tony being assisted to the waiting ambulance, there was another part of his mind that was wishing that the kidnappers had been seeking N.C.I.S. agents rather than M.E.’s assistants.
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The journey back to N.C.I.S. was a somber one. While it was far from the first time they’d had a case with so few leads, it was a lot harder to take knowing that the life of one of their own was at stake. Without Tony to both annoy and amuse the team, the atmosphere inside the van was tense.
To everybody’s surprise, Tony was sitting in Abby’s lab waiting for them.
“I told you to get patched up,” said Gibbs.
“I did,” said Tony. “Sprained shoulder,” he indicated the sling he was wearing, “A few cuts and bruises. I’m fine. Figured you could use all the help you could get.”
“And he’s been helping me already,” said Abby, almost bouncing with excitement. “I think I have something!”
“The license plate?” asked Gibbs, unable to keep a note of hope out of his voice.
“No,” said Abby. “Tony still can’t remember the full number, so I ran every possible combination of what he gave me, but none of them were registered to a black SUV.”
“It was probably a fake plate,” said McGee.
“Ya think?”
“But we have something better. Listen and learn.” Abby pressed a button and Tony’s voice came over the speakers, “Abby, I need you to run a plate for me” She hit pause.
“You recorded the call?” said Gibbs.
“My phone’s set to record whenever Tony calls me,” said Abby, tapping away at her keyboard. “Because he always says the sweetest things when nobody else is listening, and…”
“Abs!” said Tony, quickly. “Gibbs doesn’t need to hear this.”
“Oh,” said Abby, “Okay. See when the van got rammed, Tony dropped his phone, and I thought that the connection had been broken, but it wasn’t and my phone kept recording it, and it’s very faint but I think I can clear it up, and maybe the guys who took Jimmy said something…” Abby’s face fell, “And it’s all I could think of to do while I was waiting for you guys…”
“Let me know when you have anything,” said Gibbs. “McGee, help her clean up the recording. Ziva, check in with the local L.E.O.’s, see if they got any hits on speed cameras, local patrols. Anybody in the vicinity of the crash, I want to know what they saw.”
“What about me?” asked Tony, quietly.
“You’re with me, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs finally. “I want to know everything that happened from the time you left the original crime scene. Jimmy so much as sneezed on the journey I want to know about it.”
It was a few minutes after the others had left that Abby turned to McGee. “Tim, don’t you think Gibbs is behaving a little oddly?”
McGee shrugged as he tapped away at the keyboard. “No more so than usual when one of the team is in trouble.”
“But Jimmy’s technically not part of the team…and when did Gibbs start calling him *Jimmy*?”
“I don’t know Abs; maybe he’s just stressed because he’s going to have to break the news to Ducky. I know I wouldn’t want to be the person doing that.”
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Gibbs watched as Ducky sat down heavily on the chair in Autopsy. He hadn’t wanted to tell Ducky the news over the phone, but now Gibbs wished he hadn’t had to look the older man in the eye and tell Ducky that he’d failed to protect one of his team.
“But why Jimmy?” asked Ducky, his face pale with shock. “If somebody had abducted me, well, I’ve stepped on plenty of toes in my time. But Jimmy has never harmed a soul. He doesn’t have an enemy in the world. I on the other hand…oh no…you don’t think…” Ducky’s voice trailed off.
“What?” said Gibbs.
“Oh Jethro, you don’t think he could have taken because somebody has a grudge against *me*?”
It was Gibbs’s turn to sit down as the blood drained from his face. Throughout the hours at the crash site and waiting for a lead that never came, that was one possibility that had never occurred to him. “It might not be you that they have a grudge against,” he finally managed to say. This really wasn’t how he had hoped to have this conversation.
“Do you really think that that’s a possibility?” asked Ducky, when Gibbs had finished explaining the situation between himself and Jimmy.
“I don’t know, Ducky,” said Gibbs. “I thought that nobody knew we were seeing each other outside of work. But I just don’t know.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “When I saw the van in that ravine…it was like I was looking at the photos from Shannon and Kelly’s crime scene all over again. I can’t lose another person like that.”
“We *will* find him, Gibbs,” said Ducky. “Won’t we?”
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But by the next morning, no real progress had been made. Abby had managed to clear up the recording sufficiently to get the full license plate number that Tony had tried to tell her, but as expected it proved to be fake. She and McGee continued to process the remainder of the recording in the hopes that more information could be unearthed, but evidence from the crash scene was sparse at best. Paint scrapings had confirmed the color, and tire marks the general size of the vehicle.
The only marginally good piece of news had come when Abby had confirmed that blood traces found on the smashed glass of the driver’s window were *not* a match for Jimmy’s type. “It looks like somebody smashed the window to unlock the door,” Ziva had reported to Gibbs. “Perhaps their DNA will be in the system.”
Gibbs had been flicking through the photos of the crime scenes, of both crime scenes while only half listening to her. He stopped when he came to the picture of Jimmy that Tony had snapped. Jimmy looked so young in the picture, thought Gibbs. So young and unaware of what was yet to come. Gibbs heard a polite cough and looked up to see Ziva watching him. “What?” he growled.
“Abby says that she should have the recording cleared up in a few hours,” said Ziva, watching Gibbs curiously.
“Tell her to call me as soon as it’s ready.” Gibbs shoved his chair back as he stood up and left the bullpen. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator that he realized he still had Jimmy’s picture in his hand.
----------------------------------------
In the end, it was the fake license plate that proved to be the breakthrough they needed. A BOLO had been put out on it, in the hopes that the SUV would be spotted before the plates were switched again. It hadn’t been, but a sharp eyed state trooper had spotted half the plate lying broken in a ditch, several miles from the crash scene and delivered it to N.C.I.S. Gibbs hadn’t expected it to prove anything other than another dead end, but Abby had managed to pull a set of prints off it.
“They must have forgotten to wear gloves when they switched the plates,” Abby had said as she gleefully reported her find. “Or maybe they figured it didn’t matter because they’d be dumping them afterwards. But they didn’t count on it being damaged in the collision and falling off before they got a chance to change it. And if they’re in the system, we’ll find them!”
“Good work, Abs,” said Gibbs. “Call me as soon as you have anything.” He turned to leave, but stopped when Abby spoke again.
“We’ll find him, Gibbs,” said Abby. She watched as he turned back to her, a look of surprise on his face. Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed tight. “We’ll get Jimmy back for you.”
---------------------------------
Hours later, Gibbs inched his way down the alley as he and his team made their approach to the target.
It had taken time, but all the pieces had finally slotted into place. The fingerprints on the license plate had come back to a petty criminal named Colin Russell. When faced with the wrath of Gibbs in an interrogation room, he had folded immediately, swearing that his job had been solely to source the vehicle and drive it. “I didn’t know I was gonna be involved in a kidnapping,” he had protested. “I was just told where to drive.”
He’d identified his two co-conspirators, more petty criminals, none of which appeared to have any connection to Jimmy or N.C.I.S., and had given Gibbs the address where he was supposed to meet them with new transport.
It had been while Gibbs, McGee and Ziva had been en route, that Tony had found a possible motive. Restricted to desk duty until his shoulder healed, Tony had started digging into the backgrounds of Russell and his accomplices, Gary and Allen. “It’s Suskavcevic!” he had said over the speakerphone as Gibbs drove.
“But he’s in jail awaiting trial,” said McGee.
“Yeah, but his lawyer isn’t, and believe me, this guy is so sleazy he should be sitting in a jail cell next to him,” said Tony. “Get this; he also happens to be the same guy who defended Russell’s buddies last time they were up on charges. Got them acquitted as well. Mainly because a lot of the prosecution witnesses started to suffer a bit of selective amnesia when it came time to testify.”
“You think they had Jimmy kidnapped so they could ‘intimidate’ him?” asked Ziva. “But he is not the sole witness for the prosecution. There is enough forensic evidence to convict Suskavcevic even if Jimmy failed to testify.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to take chances. You guys better watch your backs, just in case they decide to improve the odds of acquittal by taking you lot out of the picture as well.”
“I think we’re in more danger from Gibbs’s driving,” McGee muttered under his breath as the car rounded a sharp corner and he was flung against his seatbelt.
There wasn’t really a lot else to be said until they reached their destination. Russell had given them the address of the so-called ‘safe house’ they’d been using. Gibbs had been torn between ordering in an immediate SWAT assault and risking Jimmy being caught in the crossfire, or sending in a small team that could get in and out without being noticed. In the end though, he was simply afraid to take the chance with Jimmy’s safety.
Getting in was easier than Gibbs had expected. While McGee and Ziva watched the front and back of the house, Gibbs made his way round the side under cover of darkness. Ziva had argued with Gibbs when he’d revealed that his plan was for him to enter the house covertly while they waited outside, but to no avail.
“Boss.” McGee’s voice came through Gibbs’s earpiece. “Boss, I can’t see any signs of movement inside the house.”
“Neither can I,” said Ziva. “Do you think that Russell was pulling our chains?”
“Maybe they got fed up waiting for him and took off,” said McGee.
“Or found out that he’d been arrested, so they made a run for it,” added Ziva.
Gibbs ignored them both, and focused on trying to open the small side window quietly. While he mentally acknowledged the merits of both their assessments of the situation, the one thing he didn’t want to have to consider was what they might have done with Jimmy before departing. The window slid slowly open. “I’m going inside,” said Gibbs, softly. “If I don’t make contact in ten minutes, wait for backup and take this place down.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before climbing inside.
Gun at the ready, Gibbs made his way through the house. The sound of snoring made him stop in his tracks as he neared the first door. The door was slightly ajar, and as Gibbs peered through the opening, he could see a man asleep in an armchair. The illumination from the street light outside was enough for him to recognize Allen, one of the co-conspirators. It was also enough for Gibbs to see the gun on the table within easy reach. A few seconds later, Gibbs had one hand on a just wakened Allen’s neck, gun in his other hand resting against Allen’s forehead. “Call for help and it’ll be the last sound you make,” he hissed. “Where is Gary?”
Allen’s eyes were wide with fear as he answered, “He…he went to get a new van. He didn’t trust Russell…wants us to be long gone before he shows up.”
“And Jimmy?”
“Who?” Allen yelped as Gibbs’s gun dug into his forehead.
“Jimmy Palmer, the man you two kidnapped.”
“He…he’s tied up in the basement…I swear, I never laid a finger on him. It was Gary who…” The words trailed away as Allen saw the expression on Gibbs’s face.
A few minutes later, a gagged and handcuffed Allen was face down on the floor as Gibbs headed for the poorly lit basement. He’d told McGee and Ziva to keep out of sight in case Gary came back unexpectedly, but he still kept his gun at the ready, just in case Allen had been lying. Allen had been insistent that *he* hadn’t hurt Jimmy. Gibbs didn’t really care; the man was going to be charged as an accessory to causing whatever harm Jimmy had come to, and if Jimmy had come to serious harm…well, Allen wasn’t going to have to worry about facing a jury.
Reaching the basement door, Gibbs hesitated briefly, almost afraid of what he would find. And then he slowly opened it.
----------------------------------
Gibbs had expected, and dreaded, a lot of things when he opened the door. One thing he hadn’t expected was to see a chair being swung directly at him as he stood in the doorway. Gibbs’s flashlight was knocked from his hand, and he barely kept hold of his gun as the chair hit him. Staggering backwards, he aimed into the darkened room. “Federal Agent,” he yelled, knowing that he had lost the element of surprise. “Come out with your hands up!”
“Gibbs?”
Gibbs’s eyes widened in shock as a disheveled looking figure appeared in the doorway, squinting slightly in the relatively well lit corridor. Gibbs wanted nothing more than to take Jimmy into his arms and swear never to let him go again, but this was still a crime scene that needed to be secured, and reunions would have to wait. Pulling Jimmy out of the way, Gibbs grabbed his flashlight and shone it into the room. The light fell on the chair and some scraps of rope, but there was nobody else in the room. Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief and let his gun fall to his side. Reaching out, he pulled Jimmy close to him, throat suddenly too choked up to say more than his name. Gibbs could feel the younger man’s arms encircle him and Jimmy’s head resting on his shoulder.
Gibbs didn’t know how long they stood there before he heard Jimmy stifle a gasp of pain. “You’re hurt?” he said, pulling away so he could get a better look. “What did those bastards do to you?” he growled.
“I’m just bruised,” said Jimmy. “They kept me tied up, blindfolded.” He was shaking slightly now. “They said they were going to leave me here…that nobody would ever find me…”
“It’s okay,” said Gibbs, reassuringly, “You’re safe now. Nobody is going to harm you on my watch.” He could feel Jimmy trembling as he helped him towards the stairs.
“And they hadn’t found my knife,” Jimmy continued as if Gibbs hadn’t said anything. “I thought if I could cut myself free, maybe catch them by surprise…maybe I’d have a chance…”
Gibbs thought about the guns he’d taken from Allen, and the details Tony had read out from Allen and Gary’s files, and he held Jimmy just a little tighter.
--------------------------------
The sun was rising by the time Gibbs escorted Jimmy out of the house. Ziva and McGee had intercepted Gary on his way back to the scene and taken him down without firing a single shot. Having seen the bruises on Jimmy’s face, and the rope burns on his wrists, Gibbs was almost sorry that they’d been so efficient.
In spite of Jimmy’s assurances of his well being, Gibbs was taking no chances and insisted on taking him to the nearest ER. Jimmy however showed his stubborn streak, and refused to let Gibbs leave the scene with him until it was fully cleared and processed. “The job comes first,” he had said, “We can’t let our personal lives affect it.”
“Right now, all I give a damn about is making sure that you’re okay,” Gibbs cupped Jimmy’s cheek in his hand.
“I am, now that you’re here.” Jimmy started to lean into Gibbs’s touch but pulled away slightly. “People are watching.”
“Let them watch,” said Gibbs, leaning forward and brushing his lips against Jimmy’s. “Life’s too short for secrets.”
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Catching the kidnappers wasn’t going to the end of things, Gibbs knew that. Suskavcevic’s trial had to be postponed so that the District Attorney could add new charges to the docket. It would have had to be postponed anyway, so that the defense could obtain new legal counsel; Suskavcevic’s lawyer having been arraigned on conspiracy charges for arranging the kidnapping. With all the new evidence mounting up, not to mention the kidnappers willingness to testify against both Suskavcevic and his lawyer in return for reduced terms, it was looking increasing likely that plea bargains would be agreed all round.
Gibbs had mixed feelings about the possibility. On the one hand, no trials meant no reason for Jimmy to testify and to relive the ordeals that he’d been through. On the other hand, plea bargains meant reduced sentences, and a part of Gibbs wanted the men responsible punished to the full extent of the law…and then some. Abby too shared Gibbs’s eagerness for justice; he’d caught her testing a stun gun for evidence, by using photos of the kidnappers as targets. Gibbs wondered if she lay awake beside Tony, conscious of how she could have lost him, as grateful as he was for the second chance they’d been given.
The first night after Jimmy had been found, Gibbs had stayed over at his place. They hadn’t had sex, Jimmy had been too exhausted and bruised, and under strict instructions from his doctor to avoid any strenuous activity. Gibbs had simply held Jimmy until he’d fallen asleep. Jimmy hadn’t slept well that night, drifting in and out of restless dreams, and once jerking awake so violently that he had woken Gibbs as well.
“It’s okay, Jimmy,” Gibbs rubbed circles on Jimmy’s back as he tried to calm him. “I’m here, you’re safe, I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said tiredly, as he buried his face in Gibbs’s chest. “Stupid to be reacting like this, now that it’s over.”
“You held it together when you needed to, that’s what counts,” said Gibbs, “This is just your body reacting to the stress you’ve been under. It *will* get better.” He kissed Jimmy on the top of his head. “And until it does, I’ll be right here with you.”
“And afterwards?” Jimmy’s voice was muffled. He pulled away from Gibbs, looking him squarely in the eye. “When I’m ‘all better’…what happens then? Do we go back to just being ‘friends with benefits’? You going back to your place to sleep, me staying here?”
“We can’t go back to the way things were,” said Gibbs, carefully. “For one thing, I think everybody at N.C.I.S. has a good idea of what we’ve been doing in our spare time. And for another…” He caressed Jimmy’s cheek, “One thing I promised myself when you were missing, was that if I was lucky enough to find you again, that things were going to be different from here on in. Life’s too short to throw away second chances. I honestly don’t know where we’re going to go from here, but I sure as hell plan to find out. You with me kid?”
“Always,” said Jimmy as he leaned forward and kissed Gibbs on the lips. “Always.” He reached down and caressed Gibbs’s crotch.
Gibbs carefully removed Jimmy’s hand, “When you’re feeling better,” he said.
“What happened to ‘life’s too short’?” grumbled Jimmy, as Gibbs lowered him back down to the mattress.
“Life will be even shorter if Ducky thinks I’m impairing your recovery by making unreasonable sexual demands on you,” said Gibbs, brushing a kiss over Jimmy’s lips.
Jimmy laughed, and then winced in pain. “But what about ‘reasonable’ sexual demands?” he said, yawning slightly.
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning,” said Gibbs, lying down beside him.
“You mean I might get ‘breakfast’ in bed?” said Jimmy, wriggling around until Gibbs was spooned in behind him.
“If you’re lucky,” said Gibbs, kissing Jimmy on the back of the neck.
“We’re both lucky,” mumbled Jimmy, sleepily as he took Gibbs’s hand.
And they were.
The End
Title: Unlikely associations
Author:
ceindreadh Written for: Sexycazzy
Prompt: Gibbs/Palmer - they make an unconventional couple but it works well. The team doesn't know about them until Palmer is kidnapped and secrets come out. (Would be a bonus if one of the secrets was Tony/Abby)
Archive: Ask first
Genre: Slash
Pairings: Gibbs/Palmer, implied Tony/Abby
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: approx 9,100
Summary: They say that opposites attract, and you don’t get much more opposite than Gibbs and Jimmy. It's all going well until outside forces intervene.
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“Run this sample up to Abby, Mr. Palmer,” said Ducky. “Hopefully she’ll be able to get a DNA match.”
“And then we’ll be able to catch the killer, Doctor Mallard,” said Jimmy, adding his signature to the chain of custody label. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He turned to head for the door, only to almost bump into Gibbs who had entered unobserved. “Agent Gibbs! I was just, that is, Doctor Mallard and I, we um...I have to go now...” He darted around Gibbs and beat a hasty retreat towards the elevator.
Ducky sighed as he watched Jimmy leave. “I really wish you wouldn’t sneak up on Mr. Palmer like that. It’s very...intimidating of you. Honestly, sometimes after you’ve shown up, he’s all thumbs and I find it very hard to get a good days work out of him.”
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Jimmy balanced his medical textbooks under one arm as he locked the car door. Turning around, he almost dropped the books as he saw Gibbs standing in front of him.
“Apparently Doctor Mallard thinks that I’m ‘intimidating’ you,” said Gibbs.
“I...I can see how he might make that diagnosis,” said Jimmy. He could feel his heart pounding as Gibbs took a step closer. “All the symptoms would fit...increased respiration, flushed skin...shaking hands.” Gibbs was so close now that Jimmy could smell a faint trace of gunpowder and sawdust on him. “Of course, there are...other symptoms...less obvious ones.”
“And what might those be?” asked Gibbs, his breath ghosting softly against Jimmy’s face. .
“A dry mouth, light headedness...all common symptoms which would have enabled Doctor Mallard to make a differential diagnosis of a mild panic attack. Especially given the presence of a potential trigger. Of course, there was one symptom which if he had noticed, might have brought him to a different conclusion...”
“And what symptom might that have been, Palmer?”
“The same one you’re displaying right now, Gibbs.” Jimmy reached out and caressed Gibbs’s crotch, reveling in the sensation of Gibbs’s hardness beneath his hand. A second later, Gibbs’s hand was on the back of Jimmy’s head, pulling him in for a hard bruising kiss that made Jimmy’s knees go weak. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Gibbs pulled away.
“Too many eyes out here. Inside, now,” growled Gibbs in that voice that made Jimmy’s heart pound just a little faster every time he heard it.
“Now,” agreed Jimmy. He picked up his books which – not for the first time when Gibbs was around – had fallen unheeded to the ground.
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The books were long forgotten as Jimmy lay sprawled on the bed, listening to the water running in the bathroom. Hearing the shower shut off, he summoned up the energy to roll over and face the door, not wanting to miss a second of the sight of Gibbs, fresh from his ablutions. Jimmy wasn’t disappointed when minutes later, Gibbs, wearing just a towel, returned to the room.
“You’re awake,” said Gibbs, moving over to the bed and dropping a kiss on Jimmy’s lips. “Thought I’d tired you out.” It was a source of pride to him that he was able to match the younger man move for move in the bedroom. Probably not the sort of strenuous activity his Marine Corps Sergeant had in mind all those years ago when he’d bellowed “You’ll thank me for it later” as he’d run the new recruits ragged. But the lessons learned in his youth had stayed with Gibbs, and in bed with Jimmy, he was never more glad that he’d kept up his personal fitness regime.
“You did,” said Jimmy as he stretched his limbs on the bed. “I could stay here for hours!”
The sight of Jimmy lying there, his body an open invitation, made Gibbs’s cock twitch under the towel, and he had to force himself not to RSVP immediately. “Your place, your choice.” Turning around, he deliberately let the towel drop as he bent over to pick up his clothes. “Me, I’ll be in the kitchen. You want something to eat, better join me.” He heard a rustling noise behind him, and seconds later a pair of arms were wrapped around him. Gibbs smiled as he leaned back into Jimmy’s embrace.
“You mean you’re not going to serve me dinner in bed?” said Jimmy, resting his chin on Gibbs’s shoulder. “Or maybe there’s something else you’d rather I ‘eat’.”
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Things hadn’t always been so relaxed between the two of them.
Gibbs and Jimmy had settled into a sort of routine on the nights when neither of them were busy with cases or lectures. Gibbs would show up at Jimmy’s apartment, they’d have sex; Gibbs would shower and then leave. It worked well for both of them, taking the benefits without any attempts at friendship.
The first time had been the night after Jimmy had plowed his car into Suskavcevic’s van. After the processing and paperwork had been completed, Gibbs had wandered down to Autopsy to see how Palmer was doing. He’d expected to find him being lectured to by Ducky on the foolishness of attending a crime scene when specifically instructed not to do so. Not to mention the added inadvisability of using one’s own car to prevent a suspect fleeing said scene. Gibbs figured that he’d let Ducky do the heavy lifting with regard to reprimanding his assistant. Maybe Ducky would finally start dishing out a head slap or two. But when Gibbs got to Autopsy, Ducky had already left for the night.
“Doctor Mallard got a call from his mother’s nurse,” Jimmy had told him. “I believe he said she was accusing her of being a Russian spy.” He’d hesitated briefly, “The nurse was the spy, not Mrs. Mallard, that is, she’s not a spy, but Mrs. Mallard thinks she is and keeps trying to speak Russian to her and…”
Gibbs was the first to admit that he wasn’t always that good at reading people who weren’t suspects. If he didn’t, then DiNozzo would have been the first to point it out, closely followed by Ducky or Abby. But he could tell that this wasn’t Palmer’s usual inane babbling that could be tuned out without any repercussions. So Gibbs had driven him back to his apartment, grumbling something about how Ducky would have his hide if he’d let ‘Mr. Palmer’ make his own way home. And of course he’d made sure the kid got to his door safely, and when Palmer offered him coffee, promising to put half the jar in the cup if necessary, Gibbs had seen the gesture for what it was, a need to talk to somebody about the adrenalin rush he’d had that day. As it turned out, talking wasn’t on the agenda, and neither was the coffee. It wasn’t surprising, Gibbs had told him later that night. “You’ve been through a lot these past few days, Palmer. The shooting, then today at the trailer park. That’s twice in two days you could have been killed or seriously injured. Now you’re coming down from the adrenalin rush and feel the need to prove to yourself that you’re still alive. Sex gives as good a buzz as any drug.”
Jimmy had propped himself up on one elbow, looking at Gibbs incredulously, “I thought *I* was the one supposed to be the med student, with all the insights into psychology!”
Gibbs had shrugged as he picked up his clothes. “I’ve been hanging round Ducky a lot longer than you have. You pick up some things.” His voice was muffled by his shirt as he pulled it over his head, “Especially when he points them out to you on a regular basis.” Fully dressed now, he sat down on the bed facing Jimmy. “I know you probably think it’s all over now and everything will go back to normal. And I hope for your sake that that’s true. But you need any sort of help getting through this; you talk to somebody, somebody you can trust. Ducky will be able to recommend a counselor if you don’t want to talk to him.”
“And what if I don’t want to ‘talk’?” Jimmy reached out and caressed Gibbs’s thigh.
Gibbs carefully removed his hand, squeezing it briefly before standing up. “Then you ‘talk’ to me.”
The second time had been the night after Suskavcevic’s preliminary hearing. The D.A.’s office had insisted on calling upon Jimmy to testify, wanting to pin an attempted murder charge on Suskavcevic as well as all the other crimes. Afterwards, Gibbs had again taken Jimmy home, and this time he was the one who’d made the first move. It hadn’t been entirely altruistic on his part, the memory of the previous occasion, Palmer’s firm young body writhing beneath him, the amazing things he had done with his tongue, Gibbs would have been lying to himself if he’d claimed he hadn’t wanted to revisit the experience. And while this time had turned out to be less of an adrenalin rush than the first time, both of them felt the better for it.
And so it had continued for a while. Neither of them had expected anything more than sex, that is, neither of them had admitted to wanting anything more than sex. At work, nothing changed. Gibbs still pretty much ignored Jimmy unless he got in his way at a crime scene or made random observations while Gibbs was discussing cases with Ducky. Jimmy still stumbled over his words and sometimes his feet when in the same room as Gibbs. The days were the same as they had always been, but the nights…those were turning out to be most memorable.
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The night things changed, Jimmy glanced up as he heard Gibbs come back into the bedroom after his shower. “Hey,” he said, as Gibbs started to pull on his clothing. “I was thinking…that is, if you weren’t in a rush…” he bit his lip, trying to think of the right words. He’d been trying various phrases, running through all the potential sentences in his mind as he waited for Gibbs to come back. “I thought that maybe we could have something to eat…” His voice trailed off as he saw Gibbs look at him. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy gathered his thoughts and continued, “It’s just that you’re going to go home and eat, and I’m going to fix dinner and eat, and we could maybe have dinner together…” The last few words came out in a rush, as if eager to escape before Jimmy could change his mind. He wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, after all, it wasn’t like he and Gibbs had much to say to each other. But there were nights, after Gibbs had left, when Jimmy’s apartment just seemed so big…and empty…and silent. Not that Gibbs’s presence was a guarantee of conversation, thought Jimmy.
“You want to have dinner…with me…” Gibbs’s voice was carefully neutral.
“I was going to fix myself something anyway,” said Jimmy. “It’d be no trouble to make enough for two.”
Gibbs looked at Jimmy for what seemed like an eternity to the younger man. Finally he shrugged and said, “Sure, why not.”
Jimmy’s face lit up as he smiled involuntarily. “Great! I…I’ll just have a quick shower. You make yourself comfortable; I’ll just be a few minutes.”
True to his word, a few minutes later Jimmy was showered and clean and toweling himself dry vigorously. It wasn’t until he started to pull on his jeans that he stopped in his tracks thinking “What on earth am I going to cook?”
Gibbs, meanwhile, had taken the time to wander around Jimmy’s tiny kitchen. A part of him was wondering just why the hell he’d said yes to Jimmy’s invitation. Things had been going just fine, thought Gibbs. Jimmy, while inexperienced at first, had proved to be an able and willing student of everything Gibbs could teach him in the bedroom. And outside of the bedroom, well, there wasn’t really any ‘outside’. They had sex and then went their separate ways, and that was working out just fine. There was no need to change anything. But Jimmy had seemed so eager, and in all honesty, Gibbs didn’t really have anything to rush home for. So he’d said yes, and seen how Jimmy’s face had lit up, and Gibbs couldn’t really remember the last time somebody had been *that* pleased by the prospect of his company. Gibbs automatically started opening cupboards as he waited for Jimmy to join him. Not that he was being nosy or suspicious or anything, but not having any prior experience of Palmer’s culinary abilities, he was idly curious as to what might be on the menu.
“See anything you like?” Gibbs turned around, a snappy retort on his lips, which died unspoken as he saw Jimmy in the doorway toweling his hair dry. He was wearing a t-shirt that rode up with every movement of his arms, and a pair of faded jeans that clung in all the right places.
“You could say that, yes,” Gibbs finally managed to get his voice under control. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before. Maybe I should speak to Ducky about relaxing his dress code a bit.” He watched with some small amusement as Jimmy blushed furiously.
“I should get dinner started,” said Jimmy, quickly.
-----------------------------
The first meal was not exactly a great success. Whether it was the distracting effect of having Gibbs watching his every move or just Jimmy’s general lack of culinary experience, but eggs ended up on counter tops instead of in mixing bowls, saucepans boiled dry, knives drew blood while chopping, and when finally they ended up having grilled cheese on toast, Jimmy even burned his hand on the grill while melting the cheese.
Food wise, things could have gone better…but in terms of enjoyment, Gibbs couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a pleasant meal. He’d helped with the clearing up before leaving, assuring Jimmy that the next time things would go a lot more smoothly. “You mean you’ll let me cook for you again?” Jimmy had asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t say that,” Gibbs had grunted, “But I might teach you *how* to cook without killing yourself!”
Gibbs had kept to his word over the following months. While not every rendezvous at Jimmy’s apartment resulted in dinner, Gibbs still found himself spending more and more down time with the younger man. He didn’t always show up empty handed either. Most of the time it was just provisions for whatever meal they planned to have that night. Gibbs even brought his own special batch of coffee, and one of the first ‘cooking’ lessons was how to make it just the way he liked it. Other times it was more practical things, like a washer and tools to fix a leaky faucet in the bathroom. And once, Gibbs had even given Jimmy a belt buckle knife of his very own. “Steak tastes better when it’s cut with a real knife,” he had said, offhandedly as he’d given it to Jimmy. “Just don’t cut any of your fingers off with it, or Ducky will use it to give me an in depth lesson in anatomy!”
It had just been a shame that that night’s steak had gotten somewhat overcooked while Jimmy showed Gibbs just how appreciative he was of his gift. But it had led to the creation of ‘Gibbs’s cooking rule 1’, namely no distractions while the meal was being prepared. Afterwards of course, distractions were certainly allowed.
------------------------------
Gibbs smiled as he leaned back into Jimmy’s embrace.
“You mean you’re not going to serve me dinner in bed?” said Jimmy, resting his chin on Gibbs’s shoulder. “Or maybe there’s something else you’d rather I ‘eat’.”
“Eating meals in bed just means crumbs in the bedclothes,” said Gibbs. “And as for the other…” In a quick movement Gibbs turned in Jimmy’s arms until he was able to kiss him on the lips. “Have to have your dinner before you get dessert!”
---------------------------------
Dinner with Gibbs was usually a quiet event. Never one for conversation at the best of times, Gibbs was even more taciturn when it came to mealtimes, preferring to focus on one thing at a time. Which was why it was during the clearing up stage that Jimmy broached a subject which had been on his mind for a considerable period of time.
“What Doctor Mallard said,” Jimmy started hesitantly. “About you intimidating me.”
“What about it?” Gibbs took the wet plate from Jimmy’s hands and started drying it. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“I know that. It’s just that I don’t like the thought of him being worried, unnecessarily worried about me.” Jimmy scrubbed determinedly at another plate, not wanting to look Gibbs in the eye. “And I thought that maybe we could put his mind at ease…tell him about…us…”
“Jimmy,” Gibbs sighed, “I thought we decided that it’s nobody else’s business what we do in our spare time.”
“No,” Jimmy let the plate slide back into the water and turned to face Gibbs. “You were the one who said that things weren’t going to be any different between us at N.C.I.S. just because we were having sex. And I went along with it because I thought; well I thought that sex was all it was. And I didn’t mind, honestly. But that…that was before all this…” He gestured around him, nearly splashing water on Gibbs. “And I hate the thought of lying to him every time he enquires into my plans for when I’m not at work. I...I’m not saying I want to change my faceb…put a notice on the bulletin board. But at least we could let Ducky know what’s going on.”
“The best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself,” said Gibbs almost automatically. “Second best is to tell…”
“One other person,” interrupted Jimmy, “There is no third best. Does that mean I’m just your dirty little secret?” Jimmy pulled off his rubber gloves and threw them beside the sink. He felt Gibbs move behind him, his strong arms wrapping around and holding him close.
“That is *not* what you are, what we are.”
“So what are we then?” asked Jimmy, tiredly.
“I don’t know, friends with benefits? Fuck buddies?” Gibbs rested his chin on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I *do* know that these evenings with you…I enjoy them a hell of a lot more than I could have imagined six months ago. But I also know that having other people breathing down your neck is the best way to spoil something. You really want people to be talking about you behind your back? Stopping their conversations when you walk past in case something gets back to me?”
“I wouldn’t…” Jimmy was silenced by a kiss on his cheek.
“I know that you’re the soul of discretion,” said Gibbs. “Ducky wouldn’t have you on his team if you weren’t. He trusts you and I do too.”
“You do?” Jimmy turned around until he could look Gibbs in the eye.
“Of course I do.” Gibbs seemed genuinely surprised that Jimmy could have any doubt. “Wouldn’t let you near my firearms of course, not unless you were field certified.”
It was Jimmy’s turn to silence Gibbs with a kiss, “I’m being an idiot,” he said, finally.
“No, you’re not,” said Gibbs. “You got something to say about us, about anything, you speak your mind. If I can’t deal with your opinion, well that’s my problem. Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll have a quiet word with Ducky. Set him straight on what’s going on. Course he’ll probably want to know what my intentions are, make sure I’m not gonna besmirch your honor or anything.”
“And what will you tell him?”
“That I intend to besmirch your honor on a regular basis for the foreseeable future. Gibbs kissed Jimmy full on the lips so hard that it almost took his breath away.
-------------------------
Later, after dessert, and indeed after ‘dessert’, Jimmy lay sprawled on the bed, head pillowed on Gibbs’s chest. “You don’t have to say anything to Doctor Mallard,” he said, finally. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I said I would,” said Gibbs. “And you’re right. You shouldn’t have to lie, not to Ducky. I shouldn’t have put you in that position in the first place.”
“You can put me in any position you like,” Jimmy yawned as he snuggled in closer to Gibbs. Beneath his cheek, he could feel Gibbs muscles ripple as the older man laughed. A hand came down in what was closer to a caress than a headslap.
Gibbs ran his fingers through Jimmy’s hair, almost involuntarily. “Jimmy,” he said softly. There was no response. “So much for the stamina of youth,” he said to himself as he realized the younger man had fallen asleep already. Gibbs tried to maneuver his way out of the bed without disturbing him, but with every move, Jimmy seemed to cling even more tightly. Finally, Gibbs gave it up as a bad job and settled back down in the bed. He’d get up early and head back home to shower and change before work. First chance he got he’d speak to Ducky; put his mind at ease regarding Jimmy. And after that, well, he’d just see how things went.
As plans went, it wasn’t a bad one. But even the best laid plans fell victim to circumstance, and this one was no exception. Work took priority over personal lives, and several days passed without Gibbs finding the right time.
------------------------------------
Ducky disconnected the call on his mobile and walked over to Gibbs. “Jethro, I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a bind.”
“What’s the matter, Duck?” asked Gibbs, concern in his voice.
“It’s Mother,” said Ducky. “That was her nurse on the line. It was such a lovely day that she took Mother out for a walk around the neighborhood, only now she’s lost her house keys. Well, when I say ‘lost’, I mean that Mother decided that swallowing them was the safest way to carry them.”
“Mrs. Mallard okay?”
“Oh she’ll be fine…it’s only a small key after all. But it means that they’re stuck outside the house until I can get home.”
“Don’t you have a spare key hidden outside?” asked Tony, as he snapped a picture of the crime scene.
“Yes, Tony,” said Ducky, “But you really don’t want to know where she put that. Jethro, I’ve finished my preliminary examination of the body, Mr. Palmer can oversee its removal back to N.C.I.S.”
“You want me to organize a ride for you back to town?” asked Gibbs.
“If you’d be so kind. Perhaps one of the local police officers could be of assistance. There’s another spare key inside the house, I’ll be able to leave that one with the nurse and return to my post forthwith.”
“The way the cops drive,” said Tony, “You’ll probably be back at N.C.I.S. before Palmer gets there!”
“You mean before *you* and Palmer get there,” said Gibbs.
“What?” Tony looked up from his camera. “Oh come on Gibbs, why do I have to ride back with the body? No offence Ducky, but your van is creepy. Let McGee do it.”
Gibbs swatted Tony almost automatically, “Finish taking the photos and help load the body.”
Tony sighed as he moved away, “On it Boss.” Walking over to where Jimmy was busy laying out the body bag, he called out, “Hey Palmer, heads up!” quickly snapping a shot of the younger man. “There we go, your first time bringing a body home without Ducky’s supervision. That’s one for the scrapbook.”
Gibbs overheard the conversation and couldn’t help but smile. It was a pity that he couldn’t have seconded himself to accompany Jimmy; the drive back to the Navy Yard would have been all the more pleasant. But he was running the investigation and there was evidence to collect, witnesses to interview, a whole heap of work that had to be done before the day was over.
Later, Gibbs would wish that he’d made a different choice; that he’d taken Tony’s place by Jimmy’s side, no matter how it would have looked. But that was later. For now he was just wishing that the case would be just as open and shut as it appeared, so that neither he nor Jimmy would have to work late.
It wasn’t until the frantic call from Abby that he realized the consequences of his decision.
-------------------------------
“Well I’ll start calling him Ducky,” said Jimmy, “The day you start calling Agent Gibbs ‘Jethro’!” There was no response from Tony, and Jimmy glanced over at him. “Tony, I said…”
“Heard you the first time, Palmer,” said Tony, his gaze fixed on the wing mirror. Glancing up as they neared a junction sign, he added, “Take the next left.”
“What? But that’s not the right road back,” protested Jimmy.
“Don’t argue,” said Tony, frowning as he once again watched the wing mirror. “Just do it.”
Jimmy glanced quickly at Tony. He wouldn’t put it past the man to deliberately guide him incorrectly just to be able to joke at his lack of a sense of direction, but Tony looked to be serious. “Okay,” said Jimmy, “But if we get lost, I’m making sure you get the blame.” He started to slow down as they approached the turn.
“Okay, once you’ve turned, step on the gas,” ordered Tony. He was silent for a few seconds after they’d made the turn, before cursing under his breath.
“Are we being followed?” asked Jimmy.
“Not sure,” said Tony, “But we’ve had the same SUV behind us for the last ten miles. A good road like that, nobody stays behind a van that’s going as slow as you if they don’t have to. *And*, they’ve just made the same turn as we did. Could be a coincidence…”
“But Gibbs doesn’t believe in coincidences. What…what do we do now?”
“You keep on driving,” said Tony, as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll have Abs run the license plate. Maybe it’s just a little old lady who doesn’t like going faster than fifty, and she just happens to live down this road…or maybe not…” He hit the speed dial.
----------------------------------------
Abby was bored. She had finished her report on the latest batch of evidence to pass through her lab. Her computer was crunching numbers for a trajectory analysis which would surely give her bowling team the edge in the next tournament. Major Mass Spec and his buddies had been cleaned and prepped and were ready and waiting for the next batch of evidence to be fed into their hungry little mouths. The lab was as clean and tidy as she could make it, short of irradiating it. In short, there was nothing for Abby to do. So she did cartwheels.
Abby was on her fifth cartwheel across the floor when her phone rang. “Yes!” she punched the air triumphantly as she recognized Tony’s ring tone. “Tony!” she squealed into the phone. “Are you on your way back with lots of nice juicy evidence for me to sort through? Not I want anything *too* juicy, I mean it’s really hard to get the stains out of the Petri dishes, and I know they’re all sterilized and everything, but they don’t look as cool with juice stains. Well, apart from the ones I brought home to use as saucers, but I couldn’t re-use them in the lab anyway, so it wasn’t really stealing, and...”
“Abby!” Tony’s voice was barely audible through the connection. “I need you to run a plate for me…”
“Tony, you’re breaking up,” said Abby, “Wait a minute, let me get something to write with. I knew I shouldn’t have tidied up so well.”
“It’s Kilo, Delta…” There was a burst of static on the line before Tony’s voice came back, “Three, six…”
“Tony, I didn’t get all that,” said Abby, quickly tapping on her keyboard to bring up the search engine. “Kilo, Delta what?”
“Black SUV, Kilo, Delta, Uniform…”
“TONY! LOOK OUT!” Jimmy’s voice came over the connection.
“Tony! What’s going on?” Abby could hear the sound of metal impacting and the screech of brakes. “Tony!” And then the line went silent. She sat there hyperventilating for a few seconds, before automatically keying in the partial plate. Almost as soon as she hit enter, the land line on her desk rang. Abby grabbed it, “TONY!” she squealed into the handset, “What happened? Are you…” “Agent Cooper, I told you, that ballistics report was emailed to you an hour ago…” “Then get somebody from tech to show you how to open attachments…” “NO! I do *not* have time to bring you the hard copy now, it’s in the internal mail system…” Abby disconnected the call and then hit speed dial. “GIBBS! Something terrible has happened to Tony!”
---------------------------------------
Gibbs pulled up to the crash scene, his heart sick with worry. Through Abby’s babbling, he’d managed to pick out the one important detail…that something bad had happened. He’d ordered her to track Ducky’s van through the GPS locator and send police and paramedics to the scene, although inwardly he was praying that it would be an overreaction…that maybe Tony’s phone had gotten dropped and broken because Jimmy had hit a bump in the road…that the reason neither of their phones was contactable was because of a lack of service in the area…that maybe this whole situation was just a badly executed practical joke…that there was *some* reason as yet unthought-of that would mean Jimmy would be waiting for him beside the van, maybe a little abashed at having caused such a commotion. Gibbs didn’t care what the explanation was, just so long as Jimmy was there to give it. But Gibbs’s gut was churning as he switched off the ignition, and he knew things weren’t going to be so simple.
McGee and Ziva’s guts were also churning somewhat as they climbed out of the car, but this had as much to do with Gibbs’s driving as with their concern for their teammates. McGee sucked in his breath sharply as he saw the skid marks on the road leading to the broken crash barrier. “Oh man,” he said, as he followed Gibbs to the edge of the road where he finally caught a glimpse of the M.E.’s van, a few hundred meters away, down a steep slope and wedged against a sturdy tree. To his relief, the van - while certainly dented and damaged - appeared to be structurally intact. “Boss, I’ll get the camera? And Ziva…”
“I will speak to the first responder,” said Ziva, exchanging a worried glance with McGee as Gibbs barely acknowledged them before climbing over the intact portion of the barrier and making his way down to the van.
The N.C.I.S. agent in him told Gibbs to avoid the tire marks on the slope so as not to contaminate potential evidence. “Evidence,” Gibbs swore under his breath. He didn’t give a damn about evidence. All he cared about was making sure that his people were okay. He could see a figure sitting on a rock beside the van, a light being shone in his eyes by a paramedic, right arm cradled against his chest. “DiNozzo!” called Gibbs as he approached. “What the hell happened?” He looked around, but there was only a single paramedic in attendance. “Where’s Jimmy?” Gibbs watched as Tony blinked a few times before looking around in confusion.
“Palmer? I…he was…” Tony started to stand, but swayed slightly and sat down, one hand on his head.
“Sir,” said the paramedic, “This man needs medical treatment.”
“Where is Jimmy?” asked Gibbs again. Tony’s next words made his blood run cold.
“He’s gone, Gibbs,” said Tony. “The guys that ran us off the road…they took him...” The words were barely out of Tony’s mouth before Gibbs had him slammed up against the battered van.
“What the hell do you mean ‘they took him’! Why the hell didn’t you stop them?”
“Gibbs,” said Tony, his face pale. “We hit the barrier, and the next thing I know I’ve got a face full of airbag, and I’m alone in the van. Believe me, I wish I could have stopped it…” He slumped back against the van as Gibbs let him go.
“Boss…”
Gibbs turned to see McGee and Ziva standing uncertainly behind him. “Process the scene,” he growled. “I want every inch of this area covered. You find so much as a speck of dust that doesn’t belong here, I want to see it.”
“On it, Boss” “Yes Gibbs” they echoed as they went about their task.
“Gibbs.”
Gibbs turned his attention back towards Tony, who was being supported by the paramedic. “Gibbs, I…”
“Don’t, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs. “Just…” He took a deep breath to calm himself, “Go get yourself patched up. I’ll deal with you later.” It wasn’t Tony’s fault, the rational part of Gibbs’s mind told him. Tony was a good agent, and Jimmy certainly considered him a friend. If it had been humanly possible for him to do so, Tony would have protected Jimmy from whatever danger they had faced. But as Gibbs watched Tony being assisted to the waiting ambulance, there was another part of his mind that was wishing that the kidnappers had been seeking N.C.I.S. agents rather than M.E.’s assistants.
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The journey back to N.C.I.S. was a somber one. While it was far from the first time they’d had a case with so few leads, it was a lot harder to take knowing that the life of one of their own was at stake. Without Tony to both annoy and amuse the team, the atmosphere inside the van was tense.
To everybody’s surprise, Tony was sitting in Abby’s lab waiting for them.
“I told you to get patched up,” said Gibbs.
“I did,” said Tony. “Sprained shoulder,” he indicated the sling he was wearing, “A few cuts and bruises. I’m fine. Figured you could use all the help you could get.”
“And he’s been helping me already,” said Abby, almost bouncing with excitement. “I think I have something!”
“The license plate?” asked Gibbs, unable to keep a note of hope out of his voice.
“No,” said Abby. “Tony still can’t remember the full number, so I ran every possible combination of what he gave me, but none of them were registered to a black SUV.”
“It was probably a fake plate,” said McGee.
“Ya think?”
“But we have something better. Listen and learn.” Abby pressed a button and Tony’s voice came over the speakers, “Abby, I need you to run a plate for me” She hit pause.
“You recorded the call?” said Gibbs.
“My phone’s set to record whenever Tony calls me,” said Abby, tapping away at her keyboard. “Because he always says the sweetest things when nobody else is listening, and…”
“Abs!” said Tony, quickly. “Gibbs doesn’t need to hear this.”
“Oh,” said Abby, “Okay. See when the van got rammed, Tony dropped his phone, and I thought that the connection had been broken, but it wasn’t and my phone kept recording it, and it’s very faint but I think I can clear it up, and maybe the guys who took Jimmy said something…” Abby’s face fell, “And it’s all I could think of to do while I was waiting for you guys…”
“Let me know when you have anything,” said Gibbs. “McGee, help her clean up the recording. Ziva, check in with the local L.E.O.’s, see if they got any hits on speed cameras, local patrols. Anybody in the vicinity of the crash, I want to know what they saw.”
“What about me?” asked Tony, quietly.
“You’re with me, DiNozzo,” said Gibbs finally. “I want to know everything that happened from the time you left the original crime scene. Jimmy so much as sneezed on the journey I want to know about it.”
It was a few minutes after the others had left that Abby turned to McGee. “Tim, don’t you think Gibbs is behaving a little oddly?”
McGee shrugged as he tapped away at the keyboard. “No more so than usual when one of the team is in trouble.”
“But Jimmy’s technically not part of the team…and when did Gibbs start calling him *Jimmy*?”
“I don’t know Abs; maybe he’s just stressed because he’s going to have to break the news to Ducky. I know I wouldn’t want to be the person doing that.”
---------------------------------------
Gibbs watched as Ducky sat down heavily on the chair in Autopsy. He hadn’t wanted to tell Ducky the news over the phone, but now Gibbs wished he hadn’t had to look the older man in the eye and tell Ducky that he’d failed to protect one of his team.
“But why Jimmy?” asked Ducky, his face pale with shock. “If somebody had abducted me, well, I’ve stepped on plenty of toes in my time. But Jimmy has never harmed a soul. He doesn’t have an enemy in the world. I on the other hand…oh no…you don’t think…” Ducky’s voice trailed off.
“What?” said Gibbs.
“Oh Jethro, you don’t think he could have taken because somebody has a grudge against *me*?”
It was Gibbs’s turn to sit down as the blood drained from his face. Throughout the hours at the crash site and waiting for a lead that never came, that was one possibility that had never occurred to him. “It might not be you that they have a grudge against,” he finally managed to say. This really wasn’t how he had hoped to have this conversation.
“Do you really think that that’s a possibility?” asked Ducky, when Gibbs had finished explaining the situation between himself and Jimmy.
“I don’t know, Ducky,” said Gibbs. “I thought that nobody knew we were seeing each other outside of work. But I just don’t know.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “When I saw the van in that ravine…it was like I was looking at the photos from Shannon and Kelly’s crime scene all over again. I can’t lose another person like that.”
“We *will* find him, Gibbs,” said Ducky. “Won’t we?”
------------------------------
But by the next morning, no real progress had been made. Abby had managed to clear up the recording sufficiently to get the full license plate number that Tony had tried to tell her, but as expected it proved to be fake. She and McGee continued to process the remainder of the recording in the hopes that more information could be unearthed, but evidence from the crash scene was sparse at best. Paint scrapings had confirmed the color, and tire marks the general size of the vehicle.
The only marginally good piece of news had come when Abby had confirmed that blood traces found on the smashed glass of the driver’s window were *not* a match for Jimmy’s type. “It looks like somebody smashed the window to unlock the door,” Ziva had reported to Gibbs. “Perhaps their DNA will be in the system.”
Gibbs had been flicking through the photos of the crime scenes, of both crime scenes while only half listening to her. He stopped when he came to the picture of Jimmy that Tony had snapped. Jimmy looked so young in the picture, thought Gibbs. So young and unaware of what was yet to come. Gibbs heard a polite cough and looked up to see Ziva watching him. “What?” he growled.
“Abby says that she should have the recording cleared up in a few hours,” said Ziva, watching Gibbs curiously.
“Tell her to call me as soon as it’s ready.” Gibbs shoved his chair back as he stood up and left the bullpen. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator that he realized he still had Jimmy’s picture in his hand.
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In the end, it was the fake license plate that proved to be the breakthrough they needed. A BOLO had been put out on it, in the hopes that the SUV would be spotted before the plates were switched again. It hadn’t been, but a sharp eyed state trooper had spotted half the plate lying broken in a ditch, several miles from the crash scene and delivered it to N.C.I.S. Gibbs hadn’t expected it to prove anything other than another dead end, but Abby had managed to pull a set of prints off it.
“They must have forgotten to wear gloves when they switched the plates,” Abby had said as she gleefully reported her find. “Or maybe they figured it didn’t matter because they’d be dumping them afterwards. But they didn’t count on it being damaged in the collision and falling off before they got a chance to change it. And if they’re in the system, we’ll find them!”
“Good work, Abs,” said Gibbs. “Call me as soon as you have anything.” He turned to leave, but stopped when Abby spoke again.
“We’ll find him, Gibbs,” said Abby. She watched as he turned back to her, a look of surprise on his face. Wrapping her arms around him, she squeezed tight. “We’ll get Jimmy back for you.”
---------------------------------
Hours later, Gibbs inched his way down the alley as he and his team made their approach to the target.
It had taken time, but all the pieces had finally slotted into place. The fingerprints on the license plate had come back to a petty criminal named Colin Russell. When faced with the wrath of Gibbs in an interrogation room, he had folded immediately, swearing that his job had been solely to source the vehicle and drive it. “I didn’t know I was gonna be involved in a kidnapping,” he had protested. “I was just told where to drive.”
He’d identified his two co-conspirators, more petty criminals, none of which appeared to have any connection to Jimmy or N.C.I.S., and had given Gibbs the address where he was supposed to meet them with new transport.
It had been while Gibbs, McGee and Ziva had been en route, that Tony had found a possible motive. Restricted to desk duty until his shoulder healed, Tony had started digging into the backgrounds of Russell and his accomplices, Gary and Allen. “It’s Suskavcevic!” he had said over the speakerphone as Gibbs drove.
“But he’s in jail awaiting trial,” said McGee.
“Yeah, but his lawyer isn’t, and believe me, this guy is so sleazy he should be sitting in a jail cell next to him,” said Tony. “Get this; he also happens to be the same guy who defended Russell’s buddies last time they were up on charges. Got them acquitted as well. Mainly because a lot of the prosecution witnesses started to suffer a bit of selective amnesia when it came time to testify.”
“You think they had Jimmy kidnapped so they could ‘intimidate’ him?” asked Ziva. “But he is not the sole witness for the prosecution. There is enough forensic evidence to convict Suskavcevic even if Jimmy failed to testify.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to take chances. You guys better watch your backs, just in case they decide to improve the odds of acquittal by taking you lot out of the picture as well.”
“I think we’re in more danger from Gibbs’s driving,” McGee muttered under his breath as the car rounded a sharp corner and he was flung against his seatbelt.
There wasn’t really a lot else to be said until they reached their destination. Russell had given them the address of the so-called ‘safe house’ they’d been using. Gibbs had been torn between ordering in an immediate SWAT assault and risking Jimmy being caught in the crossfire, or sending in a small team that could get in and out without being noticed. In the end though, he was simply afraid to take the chance with Jimmy’s safety.
Getting in was easier than Gibbs had expected. While McGee and Ziva watched the front and back of the house, Gibbs made his way round the side under cover of darkness. Ziva had argued with Gibbs when he’d revealed that his plan was for him to enter the house covertly while they waited outside, but to no avail.
“Boss.” McGee’s voice came through Gibbs’s earpiece. “Boss, I can’t see any signs of movement inside the house.”
“Neither can I,” said Ziva. “Do you think that Russell was pulling our chains?”
“Maybe they got fed up waiting for him and took off,” said McGee.
“Or found out that he’d been arrested, so they made a run for it,” added Ziva.
Gibbs ignored them both, and focused on trying to open the small side window quietly. While he mentally acknowledged the merits of both their assessments of the situation, the one thing he didn’t want to have to consider was what they might have done with Jimmy before departing. The window slid slowly open. “I’m going inside,” said Gibbs, softly. “If I don’t make contact in ten minutes, wait for backup and take this place down.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before climbing inside.
Gun at the ready, Gibbs made his way through the house. The sound of snoring made him stop in his tracks as he neared the first door. The door was slightly ajar, and as Gibbs peered through the opening, he could see a man asleep in an armchair. The illumination from the street light outside was enough for him to recognize Allen, one of the co-conspirators. It was also enough for Gibbs to see the gun on the table within easy reach. A few seconds later, Gibbs had one hand on a just wakened Allen’s neck, gun in his other hand resting against Allen’s forehead. “Call for help and it’ll be the last sound you make,” he hissed. “Where is Gary?”
Allen’s eyes were wide with fear as he answered, “He…he went to get a new van. He didn’t trust Russell…wants us to be long gone before he shows up.”
“And Jimmy?”
“Who?” Allen yelped as Gibbs’s gun dug into his forehead.
“Jimmy Palmer, the man you two kidnapped.”
“He…he’s tied up in the basement…I swear, I never laid a finger on him. It was Gary who…” The words trailed away as Allen saw the expression on Gibbs’s face.
A few minutes later, a gagged and handcuffed Allen was face down on the floor as Gibbs headed for the poorly lit basement. He’d told McGee and Ziva to keep out of sight in case Gary came back unexpectedly, but he still kept his gun at the ready, just in case Allen had been lying. Allen had been insistent that *he* hadn’t hurt Jimmy. Gibbs didn’t really care; the man was going to be charged as an accessory to causing whatever harm Jimmy had come to, and if Jimmy had come to serious harm…well, Allen wasn’t going to have to worry about facing a jury.
Reaching the basement door, Gibbs hesitated briefly, almost afraid of what he would find. And then he slowly opened it.
----------------------------------
Gibbs had expected, and dreaded, a lot of things when he opened the door. One thing he hadn’t expected was to see a chair being swung directly at him as he stood in the doorway. Gibbs’s flashlight was knocked from his hand, and he barely kept hold of his gun as the chair hit him. Staggering backwards, he aimed into the darkened room. “Federal Agent,” he yelled, knowing that he had lost the element of surprise. “Come out with your hands up!”
“Gibbs?”
Gibbs’s eyes widened in shock as a disheveled looking figure appeared in the doorway, squinting slightly in the relatively well lit corridor. Gibbs wanted nothing more than to take Jimmy into his arms and swear never to let him go again, but this was still a crime scene that needed to be secured, and reunions would have to wait. Pulling Jimmy out of the way, Gibbs grabbed his flashlight and shone it into the room. The light fell on the chair and some scraps of rope, but there was nobody else in the room. Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief and let his gun fall to his side. Reaching out, he pulled Jimmy close to him, throat suddenly too choked up to say more than his name. Gibbs could feel the younger man’s arms encircle him and Jimmy’s head resting on his shoulder.
Gibbs didn’t know how long they stood there before he heard Jimmy stifle a gasp of pain. “You’re hurt?” he said, pulling away so he could get a better look. “What did those bastards do to you?” he growled.
“I’m just bruised,” said Jimmy. “They kept me tied up, blindfolded.” He was shaking slightly now. “They said they were going to leave me here…that nobody would ever find me…”
“It’s okay,” said Gibbs, reassuringly, “You’re safe now. Nobody is going to harm you on my watch.” He could feel Jimmy trembling as he helped him towards the stairs.
“And they hadn’t found my knife,” Jimmy continued as if Gibbs hadn’t said anything. “I thought if I could cut myself free, maybe catch them by surprise…maybe I’d have a chance…”
Gibbs thought about the guns he’d taken from Allen, and the details Tony had read out from Allen and Gary’s files, and he held Jimmy just a little tighter.
--------------------------------
The sun was rising by the time Gibbs escorted Jimmy out of the house. Ziva and McGee had intercepted Gary on his way back to the scene and taken him down without firing a single shot. Having seen the bruises on Jimmy’s face, and the rope burns on his wrists, Gibbs was almost sorry that they’d been so efficient.
In spite of Jimmy’s assurances of his well being, Gibbs was taking no chances and insisted on taking him to the nearest ER. Jimmy however showed his stubborn streak, and refused to let Gibbs leave the scene with him until it was fully cleared and processed. “The job comes first,” he had said, “We can’t let our personal lives affect it.”
“Right now, all I give a damn about is making sure that you’re okay,” Gibbs cupped Jimmy’s cheek in his hand.
“I am, now that you’re here.” Jimmy started to lean into Gibbs’s touch but pulled away slightly. “People are watching.”
“Let them watch,” said Gibbs, leaning forward and brushing his lips against Jimmy’s. “Life’s too short for secrets.”
-------------------------------------
Catching the kidnappers wasn’t going to the end of things, Gibbs knew that. Suskavcevic’s trial had to be postponed so that the District Attorney could add new charges to the docket. It would have had to be postponed anyway, so that the defense could obtain new legal counsel; Suskavcevic’s lawyer having been arraigned on conspiracy charges for arranging the kidnapping. With all the new evidence mounting up, not to mention the kidnappers willingness to testify against both Suskavcevic and his lawyer in return for reduced terms, it was looking increasing likely that plea bargains would be agreed all round.
Gibbs had mixed feelings about the possibility. On the one hand, no trials meant no reason for Jimmy to testify and to relive the ordeals that he’d been through. On the other hand, plea bargains meant reduced sentences, and a part of Gibbs wanted the men responsible punished to the full extent of the law…and then some. Abby too shared Gibbs’s eagerness for justice; he’d caught her testing a stun gun for evidence, by using photos of the kidnappers as targets. Gibbs wondered if she lay awake beside Tony, conscious of how she could have lost him, as grateful as he was for the second chance they’d been given.
The first night after Jimmy had been found, Gibbs had stayed over at his place. They hadn’t had sex, Jimmy had been too exhausted and bruised, and under strict instructions from his doctor to avoid any strenuous activity. Gibbs had simply held Jimmy until he’d fallen asleep. Jimmy hadn’t slept well that night, drifting in and out of restless dreams, and once jerking awake so violently that he had woken Gibbs as well.
“It’s okay, Jimmy,” Gibbs rubbed circles on Jimmy’s back as he tried to calm him. “I’m here, you’re safe, I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said tiredly, as he buried his face in Gibbs’s chest. “Stupid to be reacting like this, now that it’s over.”
“You held it together when you needed to, that’s what counts,” said Gibbs, “This is just your body reacting to the stress you’ve been under. It *will* get better.” He kissed Jimmy on the top of his head. “And until it does, I’ll be right here with you.”
“And afterwards?” Jimmy’s voice was muffled. He pulled away from Gibbs, looking him squarely in the eye. “When I’m ‘all better’…what happens then? Do we go back to just being ‘friends with benefits’? You going back to your place to sleep, me staying here?”
“We can’t go back to the way things were,” said Gibbs, carefully. “For one thing, I think everybody at N.C.I.S. has a good idea of what we’ve been doing in our spare time. And for another…” He caressed Jimmy’s cheek, “One thing I promised myself when you were missing, was that if I was lucky enough to find you again, that things were going to be different from here on in. Life’s too short to throw away second chances. I honestly don’t know where we’re going to go from here, but I sure as hell plan to find out. You with me kid?”
“Always,” said Jimmy as he leaned forward and kissed Gibbs on the lips. “Always.” He reached down and caressed Gibbs’s crotch.
Gibbs carefully removed Jimmy’s hand, “When you’re feeling better,” he said.
“What happened to ‘life’s too short’?” grumbled Jimmy, as Gibbs lowered him back down to the mattress.
“Life will be even shorter if Ducky thinks I’m impairing your recovery by making unreasonable sexual demands on you,” said Gibbs, brushing a kiss over Jimmy’s lips.
Jimmy laughed, and then winced in pain. “But what about ‘reasonable’ sexual demands?” he said, yawning slightly.
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning,” said Gibbs, lying down beside him.
“You mean I might get ‘breakfast’ in bed?” said Jimmy, wriggling around until Gibbs was spooned in behind him.
“If you’re lucky,” said Gibbs, kissing Jimmy on the back of the neck.
“We’re both lucky,” mumbled Jimmy, sleepily as he took Gibbs’s hand.
And they were.
The End
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Date: 2010-08-22 06:00 pm (UTC)This was really awesome! Totally loved it!
Thank you!
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Date: 2010-08-22 07:08 pm (UTC)I had a great time writing this fic, and am giving serious consideration to revisiting this pairing in the future.
Glad you like it!
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Date: 2010-08-22 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-22 08:35 pm (UTC)Most of the time I pair him up with Tony though...hmmm, Jimmy, Tony, Gibbs, love triangle ending up in a threesome? (cackles evilly)
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Date: 2010-08-22 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-08 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-08 10:10 pm (UTC)Thank you!
I actually probably would have never gotten around to writing this if it hadn't been for the prompt, but I'm glad I did. (and maybe continue with this pairing)