If he was told he could pick one, and only one, defining characteristic that could be attributed to the military for introducing and instilling into his way of life, Jethro Gibbs would undeniably and unequivocally select patience.
He'd heard the word 'patience' before, many times. As a boy growing up, helping his father and uncles working the fields on their farms, loading endless dry bales of hay from ground to wagon and, then, to barn, he thought he knew exactly what it meant to be patient. He could vividly recall the hours spent waiting while his grandmother peeled and cored the ripe, juicy apples he'd picked from the family's trees, watching expectantly as she lovingly prepared a crust and the sweet filling with her arthritic hands, and resisting just long enough for the delicate pastry to come to a tolerable temperature before taking the first, savory bite. That had been real patience.

But it wasn't until he'd entered into the service of his country that he discovered its true defination.

From day one of his enlistment in the United States Marines, Jethro had practiced and honed his patience, learning it was a true and valued friend. He could remain for hours in torrential rains, wind whipping his slicker and beating his tired body, as he stood silently protecting his sleeping comrades. He could withstand the endless heat of desert temperatures and a sun so scorching-hot it seemed his brain was sizzling and frying within the confines of his helmet. He could lay, belly down, in a stinking pool of fetid mud, as swarms of blood-lusting insects attacked and feasted on his exposed flesh. All these things, and more, he'd learned to tolerate, to embrace, to master, without any sign of impatience. He was, indeed, one of the best of the best: One of the few, one of the proud, one of the patient.

Until now.

For a little over sixteen hours , Jethro Gibbs had been attempting, unsuccessfully, to navigate his way back to the States, his hard-earned and highly-valued patience beginning to unravel and fray. Every time he looked at his watch, he could see more and more of his precious leave slipping away, and he had yet to set foot on American soil. He growled softly and felt the passenger beside him shift tensely, a nervous hand reaching out to one of the flight attendants walking down the aisle. Jethro closed his eyes and smirked at the other's obvious discomfort, satisfied he wouldn't be the only one suffering during this seemingly-endless trip. They'd exchanged harsh words earlier about the military's involvement in the Middle East and, until Jethro quite calmly and quite deadly described how he could
reconfigure the man's anatomy with his bare hands. The conversations had ended immediately. When he opened his eyes, he locked gazes with a beautiful red-headed attendant, who was now leaning over the man at his side and nailing the Marine with an amused, smoky look.

"Is there something you need, sir?" She inquired, letting her eyes float down to rest, momentarily, around the area of his crotch. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Jethro smiled lazily at the attractive woman and let her usage of the word 'sir' go unmentioned. He knew what the uniform did for a lot of people, had seen the lust reflected back many times by males and females alike, but had never been propositioned on a jet while entering US air space. There was, certainly, a first time for everything.

"Can you get me to New York any quicker?" He let his blue gaze drop to the clevage revealed at the top of her blouse before looking once more into her green eyes and arching an eyebrow at her knowingly.

"No,sir," she cooed, pursing her full, pink lips into a little pout, "but I can certainly make the rest of your flight more...pleasurable."

The man beside Jethro shifted nervously, all but forgotten by the attendant and the Marine, and tried to make himself as invisible as possible. He wanted to watch what was happening but didn't want to get caught, literally, right in the middle.

"Really?" Jethro lowered his voice provocatively, leaning her way just a bit. "How much longer are we going to be in the air?"

The attendant glanced quickly at her wristwatch. "Let's see...about twenty minutes or so."

"Twenty minutes..." Jethro seemed to ponder the offer when, in reality, there was no way he was going to do anything illicit with this woman, on or off a plane. He had someone waiting for him in New York. Someone special. He looked at her nametag and smiled seductively. "You know, Jessica, twenty minutes just wouldn't be enough time to allow me to fully appreciate all you are offering. Maybe you could give me a number where I might be able to reach you, if you're going to be in New York for any length of time?"

The pout returned but a small card magically appeared between her fingers. She, somehow, leaned closer and pressed the slip of information into the left breast pocket of his uniform shirt and let her nails scratch lightly at the fabric before pulling back. Jethro got the vivid image of a sleek, green-eyed cat doing things with a wicked tongue and had to force himself from muttering something about 'petting the pussy'.

She alowly moved away from the two men, her hips doing something pretty impossible as she walked the aisle. The tourist beside Jethro let out a little shaky sigh of appreciation just as the 'fasten your seatbelt' sign illuminated overhead and the captain's voice began to talk about their approach into the greater New York area. A sense of anticipation stirred through the others, people reaching prematurely for possessions and murmuring excitedly to fellow travelers.

Jethro turned his attention to the small window at his left and peered outside, his mind rapidly returning to the reason for his initial impatience. He like New York well enough: the city held plenty of possibilities for any young man or woman and offered a wide range of activities and diversions even the residents appreciated. But, for a short while, this state held the only cure he needed for his problem.

Mike Johnson was waiting for him at Great Neck Bay.

Forty minutes later, after stepping out of the jet and into the bustle of the terminal, Jethro was unexpectedly surprised to find Mike waiting for him in the baggage claim area. After getting his first sight of his lover dressed casually in his civvies, Jethro knew there'd be no way he'd be able to make it all the way to the cabin without putting his hands on that denim covered ass. And, judging by the way Mike had broken from their original plan of waiting at the cabin for Jethro, he, too, was having a difficult time controlling his impatience. The ninety-minute drive was going to play havoc with both of them.

It wasn't until Mike was pulling into a rest area and parking well away from any of the other vehicles that Jethro had an inkling of what was going to happen. He let his gaze rest hotly on the other man as the ignition was killed and the brake set, watching quietly until Mike turned his honey-brown eyes his way. When Mike scrunched slightly down in the seat, slid a hand to grasp himself tightly through his jeans, and wet his bottom lip with his tongue, Jethro lost any measure of control he still had in his possession.

"You bastard," he hissed, lunging across the seat to get closer, the need to press against the other body overwhelming.

Mike grinned lazily as Jethro impatiently pushed his hand away, quickly tugging the zipper down, and slipping his fingers inside the confining fabric, the skin he met there hard and hot. Mike moaned and pulled Jethro closer by his head, melding their lips tightly together, holding him in place while they shared lips and tongues and saliva.

"Jeth," he groaned after pulling his mouth away, "do me now. I can't wait."

Jethro understood the request because it was burning a flaring path through his own body as well. This was about quick release, something to take the edge off, until they could share the desired intimacy the secluded cabin would offer. He yanked at Mike's waistband to get the pants lower and out of the way, harshly tugging at the hot erection. Mike liked it rough sometimes and, if he wanted to get off fast, needed a firm hand and quick, hard strokes.

"Yeah, like that..." Mike hissed his pleasure, eyes slitting as he watched Jethro, head falling back against the window. "God...like that, Jeth..."

Jethro enjoyed Mike like this, maybe more than he should: so hot, he'd say or do just about anything to get some relief. And that mouth could spout some pretty erotic things when he got in the zone. Afterward, Mike would be so pliable, so biddable, so damn irresistable. It was afterward that Jethro craved, when he could do whatever he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and Mike would take it.
It was during the 'afterward' times that Jethro would lose all sense of time and self, his focus narrowing to pure sensation.

"Harder...harder, Jeth...come on," Mike's voice was broken and his breathing ragged. He wasn't going to last much longer. "Jesus, God, it feels so good...yeah, like that. Oh...oh, Jeth...come on...harder..."

Jethro complied and watched Mike writhe on the seat, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he tried to anchor himself to something solid and real, hips arching as he sought completion. His eyes fixed on Jethro.


"Almost there...almost there, Jeth...don't stop...don't stop...oh,yeah...come on...come on...oh..."

"I don't want to hurt you, Mike," Jethro whispered, recognizing the glazed, open look he was getting. He knew Mike's limits, or thought he did, and wasn't about to put real pain into the mix now, at least not until they had a chance for some serious conversation.

"Please, Jeth...almost there...just a little more...please..."

Instead of adding more pressure to Mike's erection, Jethro reached with his other hand and sharply pinched at the cotton-covered chest, harshly twisting a tender nipple and watching to see if the sensation would be enough to give Mike the push he needed. It was.

"Oh...shit...unhhhhh..." Mike was coming, pulsing hard and hot over Jethro's fist, eyes rolling back and breath catching in his chest.

Jethro continued to hold him tightly, slowing his movement but not stopping completely, wringing out more shudders and shakes, carefully watching for Mike's signal to stop. They'd found they could prolong the pleasure if they continued some stimulation, treading a fine line before overly-sensitive flesh rebelled and it had to be stopped. But not just yet...

Mike trembled, pulsed again, and was weakly putting his hand over Jethro's, bringing the stimulation to an end, his body now craving stillness. He forced his eyes open and watched Jethro silently, his sated gaze filled with voiceless thanks. He brushed a shaky hand over Jethro's head and tugged him close again, offering a less-demanding but equally emotion-filled kiss.

"Jeth," he mumbled against the lips he loved. "God, I needed that."

Jethro pulled back and smiled, releasing the softening flesh and wiping the spent fluid on Mike's shirt. "You were really wired."

"And you aren't?" Mike scoffed, hand snaking down to press against Jethro's erection. "I can take care of that for you now."

Jethro pulled the hand away, bringing the fingers to his lips, and gave the digits a playful nip. "That's not what I want. You know what I like."

"Anything you want," Mike all but purred perdictably. "Anything."

Jethro had to grit his teeth because there was no way he'd be able to get what he wanted while cooped up within the confines of this car. But, right now, with the interior smelling of sex and Mike staring at him with that 'come and get it' look plastered on his face, Jethro was sorely tempted to forget about what he really wanted and just go for what he could get. Almost.

He leaned back, quickly rolling the window down and taking a deep, steadying breath remembering what it meant to be patient. And, if he could control his impatience right now, his later rewards would be immense and much more satisfying.

"Just get me to the cabin as quickly and carefully as you can and we'll discuss what I want when we get there...at great length and depth."

Mike grinned, wiggled back into his pants, and got the vehicle started. He knew having Jethro on edge for the remainder of the trip would ensure he'd get nailed hard and that was just fine by him. The possibilities would be endless...until tomorrow night.

"Uh, Jeth, I need to tell you something," Mike cleared his throat as he pulled back onto the interstate, merging smoothly with the flow of traffic.

"Now, why does this sound like I'm not going to like it?" He sighed.

"Candace and Jimmy are bringing Tony down tomorrow night."

"And?"

"And? I thought you might be a little disappointed, that's all."

"I'm never disappointed to see Tony, you know that," Jethro shifted in the seat and glanced quickly at Mike. "I actually thought you were going to tell me you've decided to re-up."

Mike frowned. This was a sensitive subject between them right now and he'd hoped they'd be able to postpone the coming conversation for awhile, wanting to reconnect before they had to discuss the future. It was time for a tactical maneuver.

"Candace says Tony's having a bit of a problem lately..." He started but was quickly interrupted.

"You trying to change the subject?" There was no bite in the accusation.

"Yes," Mike laughed. "Do you mind?"

"No, not really. What's going on? He sounded okay when I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago."

"She says he's getting a little 'touchy-feely'. Nothing alarming but, when she mentioned it to Doctor Amberg, his psychologist, the doc told Candace that kids who've got a history of abuse sometimes start expressing themselves a little differently as they reach certain ages. Candace says he wants to be hugged and cuddled a lot, that he sometimes even wants to kiss. She said Jimmy's getting a bit freaky about it."

"He's doing this to Jimmy, too?"

"Yeah," Mike huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he switched lanes to pass a slower vehicle. "I think he's worried that if Tony's like this now, what's he going to be like when puberty sets in?"

Jethro grunted. The boy was growing fast and, now that he was eight, the inevitable changes were just around the corner. A couple more years and his body would start changing in ways all boys looked forward to and dreaded at the same time.

"Nothing's happening at school, is it?" Jethro asked, wondering if Tony was keeping these actions within the confines of the circle of people closest to him or if it had leached out to include others. He got a tight feeling in his chest thinking about Tony unknowingly exhibiting something physical to a casual adult acquantance, wondering if the adult would be appalled or, worse, attracted.

"I don't think so," Mike stated unsure. "I don't recall her ever saying anything about any problems at school."

"Doctor Amberg give any advice?" He inquired as he recognized the turn leading into the woods surrounding the cabin. It wouldn't be too much longer before he could remove his uniform and get into something more comfortable and appropriate for relaxing. Like MIke.

Mike sighed. "Talking. It's all about talking with her, right now. 'Listen to what he says. Be available when he asks questions...even the hard ones. Keep an open mind. Be willing to share your feelings'. You know, all that stuff we've always tried to do with him. I don't know, Jeth, but Candace and Jimmy are just beginning to realize things are probably going to get a lot worse as he gets older."

This alarmed Jethro. "They aren't having second thoughts about him staying with them now, are they?"

"Oh, God, no," Mike assured quickly. "Tony is the child they were unable to have naturally, even if he arrived a little late. He really filled a void for Candace."

"And Jimmy?"

"Jimmy is related to Tony anyway. I don't think he ever considered Tony a surrogate-son but he certainly has done a hell of a job these past two years of being there for the kid. Plus, he's happy to have someone to play catch with."

Jethro grinned at the comment. Jimmy DiNozzo was a baseball junky and having a little boy who shared his passion under the same roof was a major plus. They went to ballgames, they watched it on TV, they talked about it while riding in the car. If anything, bringing Tony into their home had provided Jimmy with a partner in crime, much to Candace's ire. 'It was hard enough to get Jimmy to do simple chores before Tony's arrival, now it's just about impossible. He uses Tony as an excuse to play,' she's once pouted, not really angry but blowing off a little steam. 'I got two kids instead of one!'

The cabin was within sight and nothing ever looked as inviting to Jethro in all his life. He slid a hand over to Mike and rested it high on the other man's thigh, rubbing small, soothing circles on the denim.

"Not that I don't want to continue this conversation with you but," he lowered his voice and let his fingers drift a little higher, "can we discuss this later? I really have other pressing matters right now."

Mike leered and nodded. "Later is good for me. Much later."

It was only when Tony was bounding up the cabin's front steps the following evening that Jethro was reminded of the conversation he and Mike hadn't made time for during the previous hours. They'd had other priorities and had lost themselves in each other, no thought of Tony entering the equation even once.

"Gunny!" The boy was launching himself at the amused Marine, arms and legs wrapping around the solid body, the small face inches from his. The easy, open smile indicated how truly happy he was to be here. "I'm so glad to see you!"

And then, before he realized it was about to happen, Tony was pressing his lips against the Marine's, shocking the man into silence. Jethro remained still and waited for the brief pressure to end before letting the squirming child ease down, watching as he continued into the cabin, the young, excited voice calling out for Mike.

Jethro stood frozen on the spot, trying to process what had just happened, his brain slow to catch up with the boy's actions. Something was telling him he shouldn't have been surprised. He had, after all, been somewhat warned. Somewhat. A movement at the bottom of the steps caught his attention and he focused on Jimmy DiNozzo, seeing the smirk on the other man's face.

"Welcome to my world," Jimmy laughed loudly, pleased to see Jethro's bewildered expression.

Jethro grinned and motioned for Jimmy to come on in, hearing the man's quiet chuckles continuing as he passed by. He stood on the porch and waited for Candace, her expression reflecting what he'd seen in Jimmy's face, knowing she'd witnessed the little exchange as well. She didn't need to speak. They all knew the next two days were going to be very interesting.

Pausing to look out over the bay, as the evening light faded into dimness, Jethro silently prayed for strength and, above all else, patience.


TBC