"This is gonna be a fun one," Tony muttered, looking around the deceased's apartment. Petty Officer Drake Francis, to be precise--and Tony could only wince at what that name had done to him in school. Blood pooled around the body, spatter on the walls. One spray cut across the dull drapes and the window. The victim himself was sprawled on his back, multiple stab wounds drenching his blue pajama top and bottoms in red. Next to him lay the murder weapon, a heavy carving knife.

Ziva wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Is there any blood left in his body?"

"Oh, yes," Ducky said from his crouch next to Francis. "More than you'd think. It's rather difficult to completely exsanguinate someone, and despite the rather gory scene, the actual amount of blood is relatively small."

"Time of death, Duck?" Gibbs asked, breaking in.

"Liver temp puts it around three this morning. But with all these stab wounds, I couldn't tell you which one was the cause of death until I get him on the table."

"Take him home and do that, then. Ziva, McGee, you two search the apartment. DiNozzo, you're with me. Francis had some neighbors; let's see if anyone heard anything." Gibbs jerked his head toward the door and Tony followed him out.

It turned out that Francis had three neighbors. The building was three stories tall, with two apartments on each floor. He'd been on the second floor. The apartment opposite his was empty, the two downstairs were occupied by the building manager--who had called it in--and a woman who worked nights and hadn't gotten home until nine in the morning. They'd check her alibi, of course, but given the way she'd stared at them sleepily and had barely managed to speak without yawning, Tony was willing to believe it.

"Let's see who's on the top floor," Tony said with a sigh, climbing the stairs. Unlike the other apartments, which had a door on either side of the hallway, this one had one door at the top of the stairs.

Three steps from the top, he noticed the music--loud and sweeping, some kind of symphony Tony couldn't identify off the top of his head.

"Beethoven's Third," Gibbs commented. "Second movement."

"How did you know that?" Tony asked in surprise. "I mean, no offense, Boss, but--"

"I'd stop there if I were you," Gibbs said mildly. He knocked on the door, waited a moment, and knocked again. He was about to knock for a third time when the music switched off and the door opened.

The man standing in front of them was tall--a couple inches taller than Tony--and lanky, with golden-brown hair and brown eyes. He also had streaks of blue and yellow paint in his hair, his hands were covered with various shades, and the faded red T-shirt he wore had an interesting slash of white paint from right shoulder to left hip. His old jeans had bits of blue and purple and green on them, his feet were bare, and he had a paintbrush in his teeth. "Hi," he said, taking the brush out of his mouth. "One sec."

Tony was about to ask what for when the man turned his head. "Yo! Stephen!" he called. "People for you!"

"How do you know they're for me?" an amused voice called back; Tony couldn't tell from where.

"They look like they can afford to eat."

Tony tried really, really hard not to laugh, but he didn't quite manage it. Gibbs glared at him and Tony had a feeling he'd be getting headsmacked later.

The man who walked over to them was shorter, about an inch or two shorter than Gibbs. He had thick black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and in contrast to his--friend? Partner? Tony wasn't sure--he wore black pants and a charcoal grey long-sleeve polo shirt. "Hi," he said, offering his hand. "I'm Stephen Bond. The idiot over there is Joshua Fielding. Is there something we can help you with?"

Gibbs held up his badge. "NCIS. I'm Special Agent Gibbs, this is Special Agent DiNozzo. We're here about your downstairs neighbor."

"Drake?" Stephen frowned. "What's wrong with Drake?"

"You knew him?" Tony questioned.

"Sure. He was a neighbor, and a casual friend, and--what's this about?" Stephen asked warily.

"Can we come in?" Gibbs asked.

Stephen shrugged and stepped aside. "Joshua, you want to clean up and come over here?" he asked.

Joshua groaned. "I was on a roll! And I'm not going to have this light much longer."

"We'd like to talk to you too, Mr. Fielding," Gibbs said.

Tony looked around the apartment out of habit and curiosity. It was big--bigger than Francis's place, and Tony had a feeling they'd knocked down the walls and made one top-floor place instead of having two apartments. The corner with the most windows--and a skylight, Tony noted--had canvases against the walls and a large easel, along with artist's tools on a table/cabinet thing nearby. The easel itself was on top of a dropcloth.

In contrast, another section had a drafting table, a computer table perpendicular to it, and an ergonomic chair. Tony couldn't quite see what was on the table but he was willing to bet it was blueprints of some kind.

What was interesting was that they hadn't just knocked down the walls between the apartments, but they'd knocked down most of the interior walls, period. There were partitions, but with a few exceptions, nothing reached the ceiling. Tony got a glimpse of the bed--king-size, made neatly in shades of green--but couldn't quite figure out the tall frame around it. It looked kind of like the bed was made for curtains, only they didn't have any.

He wondered what that was all about.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Stephen asked, gesturing for them to sit at a small kitchen table. "Tea, water, coffee?"

"Don't drink his coffee," Joshua said wryly. "Not unless you want to be up all night." He walked to the steel sink, scrubbing his hands briskly.

"I'll try some," Gibbs said mildly. "Thank you."

"Nothing for me, thanks." Tony remained standing, watching as Stephen pressed a couple buttons on a high-end coffeemaker before pouring Gibbs a mug and handing it over. Gibbs took a sip and Tony was astounded to see his eyebrows raise.

"I did warn you," Joshua said, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of juice. "He makes it one step below espresso."

"I like it strong," Stephen said mildly.

"So what's this about, anyway?" Joshua asked. "Did Drake get himself in trouble?"

"Drake got himself killed," Tony said bluntly.

Stephen stumbled back, grabbing the counter. "Drake?" he asked hoarsely. "How--what--"

Joshua caught him and pushed him into a chair. "What happened?" he asked quietly. He moved behind Stephen, almost unconsciously running his hands into Stephen's hair and undoing his ponytail. Loose, it tumbled around his face, ending just below his shoulders.

"He was murdered. Stabbed to death, somewhere around three this morning. Did either of you hear anything?" Gibbs asked.

"These walls are thick," Stephen said, almost apologetically. "And at three in the morning, we were either asleep or just coming home."

"You were out at three?" Tony asked.

"My friend Amy--she works for a non-profit, and they had a fundraiser last night. It went late." Joshua squeezed Stephen's shoulders. "I think we were home by two, though. But Stephen's right, the walls are thick. This is an old building. And Drake kept mostly to himself."

"How well did you know him?" Gibbs asked, taking another--careful--sip of coffee.

"Not all that well. I mean, we had dinner once or twice a month, and he came over sometimes for coffee. But..." Stephen shrugged.

Joshua blinked. "You never told me he came by for coffee."

"It happened a few times, when you were out." Stephen tilted his head back. "And I did tell you. You just forgot, along with everything else I tell you." His tone was affectionate and Joshua rolled his eyes in response.

"Did he ever talk about his personal life? Did he have a girlfriend, anything like that?" Tony asked.

"No," Stephen said, shaking his head. "I mean, he talked about his personal life a little, but he didn't really have one. He didn't have a girlfriend, although to be honest..." Stephen sighed. "I didn't think--he was in the Navy, but honestly, I think he would have been more interested in a boyfriend. But he was single, and all I know about his work was that he was some kind of research specialist working for the DoD."

Great. That opened up a whole new potential can of worms. Tony tried not to wince, thinking about all the classified information they might have to worry about.

"Thank you for your time," Gibbs said, standing up. "Is there a way we can reach you, if we have any more questions?"

"Oh. Yeah." Stephen took a small notepad and a heavy black pen out of his pocket and scribbled down some numbers. "The first is our home number, the second is my cell."

"You don't have a cell, Mr. Fielding?" Tony asked.

"He has one, it's just never on and even when it is, he doesn't answer it." Stephen smiled a little, handing the piece of paper to Tony.

"Odds are we won't need to reach you, but you never know." Tony smiled. "Thanks."

The door swung closed quietly behind them as they left.

"So what do you think, Boss?" Tony asked as they headed downstairs.

"Too soon to tell, DiNozzo. Let's get back to the office and see."

****
"Petty Officer Drake Francis," Ziva said back at the office, bringing his picture up on the plasma. "Twenty-seven, no siblings, father died when he was twelve. His mother lives in Florida. He was working for the DoD on a classified project, something to do with electronics--McGee's working on un-classifying it." She nodded at him; McGee shot her a frazzled look. He was on the phone and working on his computer simultaneously, probably trying to get clearance to access Drake's work.

"Anything in his apartment?" Gibbs asked.

Ziva shook her head. "Some scrapbooks, and he's got a journal, but he didn't have much in the way of personal effects. We found something McGee said was a spare hard drive for his computer, but that was about it."

"What's in the scrapbooks?" Tony asked.

"Some newspaper articles and some pictures. I haven't looked through them too closely yet but it seemed strange that he had all this information on one person." Ziva blew out a breath. "Abby's got them. I'll get right on it."

"I'll help you," Tony said, following her down to the lab. Gibbs came as well, leaving McGee to deal with the DoD. "Here, give me this one." He pulled on a pair of gloves and took the scrapbook and began flipping through it. Two pages in, he stopped dead. "Boss," he said slowly. "Come take a look at this."

The entire scrapbook was filled with pictures of Stephen, both in his apartment and outside. Pictures of him bent over his drafting table, of him walking down the street, articles about his work--he was apparently gaining a reputation as a talented young architect, Tony noted. Pictures of him working out; it looked like yoga. The pictures were often grainy and blurry, making Tony wonder if he'd taken them with a cameraphone or something similar.

"The other scrapbook's the same," Ziva said, looking over Tony's shoulder. She spread the scrapbook open next to his. "Looks like Francis was obsessed with this man, whoever he is."

"He's Francis's upstairs neighbor. And unless I'm completely off the mark, he's already got a partner."

"Good motive for murder," Gibbs murmured.

Ziva shook her head. "This is...insane."

"Mentally unbalanced, to say the least. I wonder if Stephen knew." Tony looked up. "I'll go check on his personal effects, Boss."

Gibbs just nodded.

The music was blaring and Abby was bouncing a little to it as she frowned at something on her screen. "What's up?" she asked without turning around.

"We've got a dead gay stalker and a growing list of questions. Got his stuff?"

"Over there. Bagged and tagged, but I was looking at his computer first. Guy knew his stuff, that's for sure. Lot of encryption, passwords all over the place. It's going to take me a while to get through everything, and I'm probably--" Abby wrinkled her nose. "Going to need McGee's help."

"You admitting you need his help? Guy really knew his stuff." Tony began flipping through the bags, but there wasn't much. His wallet, which had a list of contents including twenty-two dollars, three credit cards and a debit card, and a driver's license. A set of keys. A picture ID keycard, which had an RSA fob attached. "Did we match up the keys to locks?" he asked.

"That's your job. I? Just sort the data." Abby grinned at him.

"Thank you, so much." Tony made a face at her and picked them up. "Five keys," he commented. "Looks like apartment, car, spare key to...something, mailbox, and...one more. Looks like...I have no idea. Thoughts?"

She came around the table, picking up the bag. "Padlock," she pronounced, handing it back to him. "He have a storage unit? And can I go back to my computer now?"

"Thanks, Abs." Tony headed back upstairs, wondering if there were storage units in the basement of the apartment building.

"Well, find out!" Gibbs said impatiently when Tony broached the question. He waved at the phone. "And McGee, find out what Francis was doing!"

A quick phone call determined that yes, there were storage units in the basement of the building and yes, Francis had had one. "Check it out," Gibbs said, sliding into his seat. "And take Ziva with you."

She looked about as thrilled as Tony felt. There was no reason two of them needed to go, but Tony didn't feel like arguing with Gibbs over it. However, he did insist on driving. If they were going to get there, he'd rather they do it in one piece.

"Every tenant's entitled to a storage unit," the building manager said, leading them downstairs. "Part of the building."

"Must be expensive rent," Tony commented.

"Nah, not so bad. Old building, so the wiring's dicey sometimes and there's no elevator, so the ones on the top floor have to wrestle everything up themselves. And with Joshua's paintings..." The manager shook his head. "Pain in the ass, if you ask me. Don't know how he makes a living."

Tony had to wonder the same thing. Depending on how this went, they might need to find out.

"This one's his," the manager said, nodding at a plain metal door. "You need me to open it?"

"Let's find out if this matches, first." Tony took out the key and eased it into the lock; he wasn't surprised to hear it click open. "Thanks, we're good," he said with a grin.

"Okay." The manager shrugged and scratched his thinning gray hair. "Be upstairs if you need me."

Tony waited until he was gone to pull off the padlock and swing the door open--and then he and Ziva just stared for a moment. "Holy Mary, Mother of God," Tony murmured. "This..."

"I don't even know if obsession begins to cover it," she said, stepping into the room.

There were pictures everywhere. Tony had no idea when Francis had even taken some of them--they were clearly personal shots, and there was absolutely no indication that Stephen had had any idea he was being photographed. Ziva whistled, looking at a series of him going through a yoga routine. "He's flexible," she commented.

Tony looked over her shoulder. "Are people supposed to bend like that?"

She rolled her eyes and stepped over to a table covered with a black cloth. On top of the table were a few items--a gold Star of David pendant, a watch, a white sweater, and a black pen engraved with Hebrew letters. "Shmuel ben Rufuel," Ziva said, nodding at the pen. "His Hebrew name."

"We'll have to bring him down to the office to verify that these are his." Tony dug out evidence bags and handed a couple to Ziva. "I wonder if he even noticed they were missing."

"Probably. That pendant's worth quite a bit, not to mention the emotional value. Question is, did he think they were missing or did he give them to Francis?"

"Only one way to find out." Tony sealed the bag containing the pen and scribbled its contents and his initials on it. "Let's get these entered into evidence and invite Mr. Bond down to identify his stuff."

******
Stephen came down to the office readily enough, if a bit confused. "I thought you had the information you needed," he said, brushing a lock of hair back. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you."

"Are any of these items yours, Mr. Bond?" Tony asked, gesturing to the table where they'd been laid out.

"They--" Stephen paled. "Where did you find these?" He looked up at Tony.

"Francis had them in his storage unit. Are they yours?"

"Yes--all of them." Stephen brushed his fingers over the bags. "My watch--Joshua gave me that to celebrate a commission. The pendant, the pen--I've had those for years. My parents gave me the pen for my bar mitzvah, and my sisters gave me the pendant when I got my degree. The sweater...that's new. I've only had that a few months."

"How is it that you didn't notice any of this was missing?" Ziva asked skeptically.

"I don't use the pen often and I'm not much of a jewelry person. I thought they were in my dresser, with the rest of my valuables. I thought I'd misplaced the sweater somewhere and the watch..." Stephen shrugged. "I figured Joshua had accidentally put it away."

"How long have you and Joshua been together?" Tony asked.

"Just under a year. Why? What does any of this have to do with Drake?" Stephen ran a hand through his hair. "And can I have my belongings back?"

"We'll need to have our forensics expert look at them, but you should get them back soon. Did you know if Petty Officer Francis had any feelings for you?" Tony asked, leaning against his desk.

"Drake?" Stephen shrugged. "I thought he had a slight crush on me. I didn't encourage it--he was a nice guy, but he wasn't my type and I'm already involved. I didn't want him getting the wrong idea. Why?"

"Too late," Ziva murmured. "So you had no idea that he might have been stalking you?"

"Drake?" Stephen looked at her incredulously. "No, not at all. Are you saying he was?"

Ziva picked up one of the scrapbooks. "You be the judge, Mr. Bond," she said, handing it to him.

Stephen flipped through the pages, his face growing paler with each new picture. "Oh my God," he whispered, shoving the book at Ziva. "How--I don't even know how he took those pictures! He'd have had to put some kind of camera in my apartment."

"He was an electronics expert," McGee said quietly to Tony. "Wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility, especially if he could have gotten in while they were gone."

Tony blinked. Five keys, and--"Mr. Bond, can I take a look at your house key?" he asked impulsively.

Stephen fumbled his key ring out of his pocket and handed it over. "It's the red one. Are you--"

"Looks like..." Tony held up Francis's key ring, matching them against Stephen's house key. And as he'd thought, the spare key on Francis's key ring was identical. "Was there ever an opportunity for him to get your spare house key?" he asked.

"Um--" Stephen shook his head in disbelief. "I--probably, when he came in for coffee. We kept the spare key on the rack by the kitchen, and since neither Joshua nor I need it, we wouldn't have noticed it missing. It--he could have come in and taken it and returned it next time. And--" He swallowed. "Wait. Let me see that scrapbook again."

Ziva handed it to him, all three agents watching curiously as Stephen looked through the pages again, frowning and muttering to himself. "He'd have put a camera here," he said, tapping a corner. "Right next to my drafting table. He could see the apartment from there, and if he...wait, no...no, the angle's impossible..." Stephen shook his head. "He needed two cameras. One there, and one by the foot of the bed. He'd have been able to see everything, except Joshua's corner."

"And it doesn't look like he had any interest in Joshua." Tony shrugged. "Do you mind if we take a look around your apartment, Mr. Bond? To find the cameras?"

"I--no, just let me call Joshua."

"Of course. You can use the phone right there."

Stephen picked up the phone and dialed, drumming his fingers against the desk. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered under his breath. "C'mon, Joshua...Hey, Joshua, it's me. Yeah. We've...well, we've got a problem. NCIS needs to come look at the apartment. Can I explain later?" He exhaled deeply. "Short version--I had a stalker, he's now dead, and he left cameras in our apartment. And I'm not really happy about this and--whoa, okay, okay, settle down, okay? Yeah. They'll be by shortly, as will I, and--yeah, that'd be good. Yeah. See you soon." He hung up and looked down at the phone for a long moment. "Okay," he said, turning around. "I'll see you at my apartment."

The drive back didn't take as long, although they didn't make it back before Stephen. He answered the door on their knock, stepping back so they could enter. Joshua was behind him, a hand on Stephen's shoulder.

"There's one here and one there," Stephen said, nodding. "I think."

McGee crouched down where Stephen had indicated. "Yeah, I see it, although I'm not sure if it's pictures only or video."

Both Stephen and Joshua looked sick at that thought. "If--Stephen, if--" Joshua said shakily.

"I know," Stephen whispered. He turned around to face his lover, taking Joshua's hands. "I know. It's okay."

"No, it's not," Joshua countered. "If he had video--"

"It'll be all right." Stephen stepped closer. "I'm not ashamed of anything we've done," he murmured, so quietly Tony wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening.

Joshua sighed and lowered his forehead to Stephen's. "You'd better be right."

"I think we've got both, Tony," McGee said, jolting Tony out of his observation of the two of them. "We'll need to follow them down to Francis's apartment and find out what he had them attached to."

"Let's go, then." Tony turned to Joshua and Stephen. "Thanks for your cooperation."

"Just get those things out of our home," Joshua said with a shudder.

"Already gone." McGee held up the two evidence bags.

"Thank you." Stephen leaned back against his partner, Joshua's arms going around him automatically. "We appreciate it."

"Now there are two people secure in their identities," McGee commented as they went downstairs to Francis's apartment.

"Yeah." Tony shook his head to fight off the hint of longing that crept into his stomach. "Let's see what we can find out here."

There was nothing in Francis's apartment, but..."Wait," Tony said, looking around. "Didn't you and Ziva say you found a spare hard drive for his computer?"

McGee nodded. "External drive, sure. What he probably did was set the cameras to download wirelessly to either the external or his computer. Odds are it was video he could freeze-frame to get pictures from."

"Let's get it back and see what's on it," Tony told him. "Fast." He couldn't quite get Stephen's words out of his mind and wondered exactly what Stephen had been referring to.

Had either of them actually known about the cameras? And had one of them done something about it?

*****
"Now this is a sweet setup," Abby said admiringly. "Almost invisible. Lemme take a look at what I've got here. I'll call you if I see anything important."

"Thanks, Abs. How's his laptop coming?"

"Now that you brought him back, McGee will be able to tell you." She took a drink from her Caff-Pow. "Which one do you think it is? Work or personal?"

"With that many stab wounds, I'd go for personal," Tony admitted. "But you tell me what's on those cameras first."

"No problem." She grinned and spun back to her computer.

Tony left the geeks to their techno-babble and went back upstairs to see what he could learn about Francis. Gibbs and Ziva were already gone; there was a note in Ziva's nearly indecipherable handwriting stating that they'd gone to interview Francis's co-workers now that they'd unclassified his project. It had something to do with electronics and computers and Tony couldn't read any more than that. He sighed and began putting together Francis's background, wondering how the hell someone so unbalanced had made it into the Navy--and into a classified project at the DoD.

Two hours later, he had most of Francis's background, which was about as boring as the last opera he'd suffered through. He was about to give up in disgust when Abby called. "Um, Tony?" she said, sounding a bit strangled. "Come down here."

That didn't bode well. Tony pushed away from his desk and took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

"What's up?" he asked, half-running into Abby's lab. Vaguely, he noticed McGee there, working on what had to be Francis's laptop. He didn't really care, at the moment.

"Okay." Abby took a deep breath. She looked decidedly unsettled--and that didn't bode well. " McGee and I got the recordings decrypted fairly easily and I've been going through those while he figures out what else is on the laptop. So. Remember that case we had a while back, where that woman was running a smut ring and I had to watch all that porn?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Most of this is pretty boring. Everyday stuff, food--there's a lot of music on here, by the way. I'm guessing the tall guy--"

"Joshua," Tony interrupted.

"Right. The cute one. Well, they're both cute, but the guy with paint in his hair. I'm guessing he likes to listen to music loud when he works, because there's a lot of time the music's on and the other guy--who never wears color, by the way--isn't home. Anyway. A lot of this is pretty boring like that, although I did have the pleasure of watching the monochrome guy--"

"Stephen, the guy Francis was obsessed with."

"Yeah, him. He does yoga, and damn, he's good. I also saw some people come by--I capped them for you. I'm guessing they're friends or something." Abby shrugged. "One of them had really cool hair. Purple and pink and almost straight up."

"Guy or girl?" Tony asked wryly.

"Girl." Abby grinned.

"So what's bugging you, Abs?" Tony asked.

"Right." She sighed. "Okay. So. I'm not an innocent. And it's not like I've never seen smut before, especially after that case. But...this..." She shook her head. "These two are into some seriously hard-core stuff."

Tony winced. For Abby to say they were into hard-core didn't bode well. "Do I want to see?" he asked warily.

"No. But..." Abby brought an image up on the plasma. "Look."

The camera had an almost head-on view of the bed. The bed itself was stripped of covers and pillows, made only with plain sheets. On the bed itself, Stephen knelt up, arms outstretched and cuffed to--"Are those hoops?" Tony asked, nodding at the bedframe.

"Yeah. It's a dungeon bed." Abby blew out a breath. "Built-in hoops for restraining someone, metal frame for sturdiness, places to weave straps if you want. I've never seen one outside a catalog before."

The sound quality wasn't great, and Tony couldn't make out what Joshua said to Stephen. But he saw Joshua step back, saw him uncoil the whip he carried in his hand. The crack of it was clear and precise, even through the fuzzy sound--as was Stephen's pained cry.

"There's a lot of stuff like this," Abby said, shaking her head. "It looks like he recorded a week at a time and then downloaded it to the memory drive."

"Does this look--" Tony gestured. "I mean, is it even possible for this stuff to be consensual?"

"Sure." Abby shrugged. "And from what I can tell, all of this is. Look--" She fast-forwarded a bit, stopping when Joshua put the whip down and uncuffed Stephen's arms, catching him as Stephen half-collapsed on him. Tony watched as Joshua held his lover, rocking him a bit, cheek pressed against his hair. "For everything I see like--before--I get something like this." Abby fast-forwarded again. "Or this."

The music was loud--as always--but the camera was focused on the center of the room, where Stephen was working through yoga. As before, Tony shook his head. "I still don't think people should bend that way," he said with a grimace.

"Shush. But look." Abby gestured at the plasma. Stephen was holding some pose that had him on his hands and the balls of his feet, bent in a V. As Tony watched, Joshua walked over, sliding his hands up Stephen's legs and down his back, leaning down to kiss his back. He stepped back a moment later--probably to get out of his way, Tony thought, watching Stephen pull himself into a handstand and bring his legs down in front of him, standing up and turning to face Joshua.

He saw Stephen's laugh and Joshua's grin as Joshua pulled him into an embrace that had them sinking down on Stephen's yoga mat.

"Whatever these two are up to, it's mutual," Abby said, shutting off the video. "It's just incredibly disturbing."

"What's disturbing, Abs?" Gibbs asked, walking into the lab.

"Some stuff on the video feeds." Abby took the Caff-Pow he handed her and took a big pull on the straw.

"Disturbing how?" Ziva asked.

"Hardcore S&M disturbing." Abby set the drink down. "Consensual, but...I've watched a lot of smut and never seen anything that came close to this."

"Who's the--" Ziva gestured. "Who does what?"

"Joshua's the Dom," Abby told her. "Stephen's the one getting whipped."

Gibbs came over to Abby's computer, squeezing her shoulder absently. "Any motive for murder in here?" he asked.

"That's your job, not mine." She sighed. "I don't see anything to indicate either of them knew about the cameras, and the few occasions where I've seen Francis come over, it really was just for coffee. The guy picked times Joshua wasn't home, but with the cameras, he'd know when that was."

"This is assuming Joshua didn't know," Ziva pointed out. "He may have."

"Stephen might have too." Tony shrugged. "It'd be a good motive for murder--kill your stalker, or your lover's stalker. What about his work?"

"He was working on a research project with a civilian. Ironically, they were working on surveillance equipment--cameras and microphones." Ziva shrugged. "He could have gotten stuff from work easily."

"Or built his own," Abby offered. "None of this stuff is hard to do if you know what you're doing. And given his work computer, he really knew his stuff."

"Still working on that," McGee offered. "I've got most of the data unencrypted, but something isn't right." At Gibbs' look, he dove back behind it. "I'm on it, Boss," he said hastily.

"What was up at work, anyway?" Tony asked. "Any leads?"

Ziva grimaced. "On the surface, it doesn't look like it. His direct supervisor was in California--she's flying back today. The woman he was partnered with--Dr. Christina Morales--said that they had no problems at work, and in fact had just finished a rather prestigious project--they'd gotten some kind of award for it, actually. She and Francis had been working together since he started at the DoD."

"Prestigious project, award..." Tony shrugged. "Could be a possible motive. Was anyone else up for it?"

"No, from what Dr. Morales said. It was some internal thing--more of a recognition for their work than anything else, but it meant more funding and possibly more people," Ziva said.

"More people means more heads to split the credit," Tony pointed out.

"She was a bit egocentric," Ziva admitted. "Not like you'd know anything about that, would you, Tony?"

He decided not to answer that. "So she's a possible, is all I'm saying."

"Until we get this solved, everyone's a possible," Gibbs said irritably. "And Morales has no alibi."

"Home alone all night," Ziva elaborated.

"She know anything about Stephen or Joshua?"

Ziva shook her head. "Nope. Didn't seem to recognize either name."

"Think she's lying?" Tony offered.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Everybody lies, DiNozzo. Right now, we've got two potentials. You and Ziva track down Fielding's friends, see if maybe he wasn't as clueless as he told us. McGee, find out what the hell is on that damn laptop! I want to know if Morales isn't telling us something about that project." Gibbs tossed his coffee cup in the trash and strode out.

"He said his friend Amy had a fund-raiser that night. We should be able to track her down easily enough," Tony told Ziva.

"If she's the one with the cool hair, tell her I approve," Abby said cheerfully.

"Ah--right, Abs, right after I get done telling her how her visits to that apartment were caught on tape." He grinned at her; she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Go do your detective work and get out of my lab," she said, shooing them away.

Amy Haverhill did turn out to be the one with the cool hair. She also turned out to be one of three people in the tiny office of her nonprofit. "I can give you ten minutes, no more," she said, pushing away from her computer and walking into the hallway. "And I'd rather not do it around my co-workers. What's going on?"

"You're friends with Joshua Fielding, right?" Tony asked.

"Joshua, sure. He's one of my closest friends. Him and Paul Zhang and me--we roomed together for a little bit when we all moved down here, until we all drove each other crazy. Why? Is he in trouble?"

Tony didn't answer. "What about his partner, Stephen?"

Amy shrugged. "He's cool. Joshua's crazy about the guy."

"Define crazy," Ziva didn't ask.

"They've been together almost a year, and Joshua--" Amy shrugged. "He's just totally in love with Stephen. It's kind of cute."

"Any problems with their relationship?" Tony asked.

"No, not that I know of. I mean, sometimes Stephen likes to tease Joshua a bit--he'll flirt with other men or something, you know? Just as a joke." Amy shoved her hands into the pockets of her baggy cargo pants.

"What's Joshua's reaction?" Tony asked casually.

Amy grinned. "He generally goes kind of caveman. Well, in a civilized way. He's what I'd call the possessive type, and I guess sometimes Stephen likes pushing that button."

Possessive, jealous of his lover flirting with other men, and a propensity toward sadism and violence. Tony was no profiler, but this was beginning to add up.

"You had a fund-raiser last night, didn't you?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah, a big one. It went late." Amy rubbed her forehead. "Why?"

"Were Joshua and Stephen there?"

"Yeah, of course. Would you please tell me what this is all about?" Amy insisted.

"Just a few more questions, Ms. Haverhill," Tony said winningly. "What time did Joshua and Stephen leave?"

Amy groaned. "I don't know. I was busy. The last I saw them was around one-thirty. I think they got a ride home with Paul or something."

"Thank you. Ah--what about Drake Francis? Did you know him?" Tony asked.

"A little. He kept trying to invite himself in, but most of the time Joshua or Stephen didn't let him. He was kind of creepy, to tell you the truth. Why? What's all this about?" Amy looked between them curiously. "Who got themselves in trouble?"

"Drake got himself killed. And it looks like he was obsessed with Stephen. Would you know anything about that, Ms. Haverhill?" Ziva asked.

Amy paled, her hand flying to her mouth. "Killed?" she managed. "And--" She shook her head. "No. No. You can't possibly think either of them had anything to do with this."

"You said yourself Joshua tended to be possessive," Tony pointed out. "And...how familiar were you with their personal lives?"

"That's all consensual. All of it. Joshua would never do anything with Stephen that wasn't. There's no way Joshua would hurt him outside a scene. Ever." Amy glared at him fiercely. "Joshua's not like that. And Stephen's smart enough to stand up for himself."

Tony had seen too many cases of domestic violence to agree with her assessment. "Thank you, Ms. Haverhill. Do you know where we could reach Mr. Zhang?"

"He's probably at GWU. He's an assistant professor there. Art history. Are you done now?"

"For now," Tony said, tucking away his pad. "Thank you."

"Whatever." She glared at them both impartially and stalked back into her office.

"That went well," Ziva said sardonically as they left.

"Actually, I think it did," Tony countered. "We now know Joshua's possessive, and Stephen likes to play on that. Who's to say Stephen didn't take things a little further? What would you do in that situation?"

"Good point. Let's go talk to this Paul."

Tony stole the keys. "I'd rather get there alive," he said, opening the door. "Let's go to college."

Paul was the other one on the tape; slender, medium height, with black-framed glasses and a lock of hair that kept flopping into his face. His hands were covered with clay and he wore an apron over his clothes. "Yes? Can I help you with something?" he asked politely, looking up from his pottery wheel. The small studio he was in was full of projects in various stages of "done", along with blocks of clay and pottery tools.

Tony held up his badge. "Special Agent DiNozzo, this is Officer David. We're NCIS. Can we talk to you for a moment?"

"If you don't mind me working while you do. I've got a class in an hour and I have to prep. Was trying to get in some working time before I have to go back to Art History 101." He went to a sink against one wall and scrubbed his hands, drying them on a towel that hung nearby. "This way," he said, leading them out of the pottery studio and into a room slightly bigger than a closet. "Assistant professors don't get much space," he said with a faint smile. "So what can I do for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service?"

"You know who we are," Tony said in surprise. "I'm impressed."

Paul shrugged. "My mother was Navy. I spent the first fifteen years of my life on various bases. But she's long since retired, so what's this about?"

"Do you know Joshua Fielding and Stephen Bond?" Tony asked.

"Those two? Sure. Joshua's an old friend of mine--he and Amy and I used to go out together. We roomed together, for about six months. But neither of them are armed forces. That whole don't ask, don't tell thing. Plus I wouldn't exactly call Joshua the military type. Why?"

"What about Drake Francis?" Tony leaned against the door.

Paul blinked and adjusted his glasses. "Creepy guy? That's what Amy and I called him. He was always hanging around whenever we went over, or trying to. Joshua tended to close the door on him; Stephen would apologize and make an excuse or something. But then, that's Joshua and Stephen for you."

"Stephen's the polite one?" Tony asked with a grin.

"More like Joshua just doesn't think before he speaks, half the time. Stephen's a lot more reserved." Paul shrugged.

"What do you think of their relationship?" Ziva asked idly.

"Joshua and Stephen? We all thought it was crazy when they got together. But they're rock-solid. Almost a year now, I think. Joshua adores him, and Stephen...well, it's hard to read Stephen, even if you're a friend."

Tony smiled. "Would you consider Joshua to be...possessive at all? Does he have a temper?"

"Temper, sure. He's an artist, don't we all? Why, what is this about?"

"You were at a fund-raiser for Amy Haverhill's nonprofit last night, weren't you? Were Joshua and Stephen there?" Tony asked instead.

"Since I was their ride, I'd say so, yes," Paul said sarcastically. "We left around...two-fifteen, I think. The clock in my car is broken, so I couldn't tell you for certain. Why?"

"Drake Francis was stabbed to death last night," Tony said bluntly.

"And you think--" Paul stared at him. "No. No way. Joshua's got a temper, but he'd never hurt anyone. Never."

"Even if he knew someone was stalking Stephen?" Ziva asked.

"He's not violent," Paul insisted. "And--was someone? Was Drake?"

"He was obsessed with Stephen, from what we can tell," Tony admitted. "You don't think Joshua would have done something?"

"Okay, look. Joshua's got a temper, I'm not denying that. And I know enough about what he's into to know that I don't want to know the specifics. But he's not violent, and he'd never hurt someone."

"Not even Stephen?" Ziva asked.

Paul sighed. "That's different. He'd never hurt someone outside a scene. Besides, Stephen wouldn't let him." Paul smiled faintly. "Stephen's really good at handling Joshua."

"Thanks for your time, Mr. Zhang," Tony said with a nod.

"Yeah." Paul sighed and turned back to the laptop on his desk.

"While we're out, let's stop by Stephen's office. See if his co-workers know anything," Tony said as they got back in the car.

"Sure. Although right now it looks like we've got enough to bring Mr. Fielding in for questioning."

"And we probably will, but let's have all our bases covered." Tony shrugged. "No such thing as too much information."

Unfortunately, Stephen's officemates didn't have much to say. He was quiet, kept mostly to himself, and his desk area was meticulously neat. He had a couple of awards hung on the walls--"That's not all of them, but that's all he's got room for," said Anne, the office manager. "And...that's his famiily." She nodded at a picture. "And him and Joshua, of course."

"His sexuality isn't a problem here?" Tony asked.

Anne laughed. "Our owners are a gay couple, Agent DiNozzo. And Stephen doesn't advertise it. I mean, he has the picture, but Joshua doesn't really visit here. I think I've met him twice, and one of those was at the company Christmas party."

Well, so much for that. "Where is Stephen now?" Tony asked.

"Oh, he's on-site. He's working on a building over in Tenleytown. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Anne asked.

"No, thank you. You've been great." Tony flashed her a grin and he and Ziva left.

They got back to the office to find McGee working in Abby's lab and Abby still going through video footage. "If you're looking for Gibbs, he got called up to MTAC. I don't think Madame Director's all that happy today. And it doesn't help that we still can't alibi Morales and no one else at the DoD is talking. If you're wondering about the recordings, I'm still working on them. He had about six months' worth," she said with a grimace. "I've been working on the time right around the murder."

"What time did they get home that night?" Tony asked.

"It's hard to judge, because there's no clock on the video feed, and neither camera has a view of a clock. However! I, being the genius I am, have found a way to judge with fairly high accuracy." Abby grinned. "They live on a bus line, and the bus runs every half hour until ten o'clock at night, after which it runs once an hour--on the fifteen, mind you. So--and this took a lot of work, because I really had to filter the sound--I was able to match the bus sound outside. From what I can tell, they got in around twenty to three. However, there's a fairly high percentage of uncertainty there and any good defense attorney would probably be able to rip that to shreds."

"Twenty to three still matches what Ducky said," Ziva pointed out on their way back up to their desks.

"You think they did it together?" Tony asked.

She shrugged. "Let's bring them in for questioning and find out."

Gibbs came back in a few minutes later, looking decidedly grumpy. "Someone better have something for me," he warned them.

"What we've got is a man with a possessive streak, a tendency toward violence, and no real solid alibi past about two," Tony said promptly. "Amy Haverhill confirmed they were at the fundraiser but couldn't give us a time they left after about one-thirty. Paul Zhang gave them a ride home but wasn't sure about the time, only that it was about two or so. Abs thinks it was about 0240, but she's not willing to swear to it."

"I think we should bring Bond and Fielding in for interrogation," Ziva said. "Violent, possessive, with someone stalking his lover?" She raised an eyebrow.

Gibbs nodded. "I agree. DiNozzo, talk to Ducky. David, you're with me." The two of them left and Tony went down to autopsy.

"Somewhere between two and three, and unfortunately that's about as precise as I can give you," Ducky said apologetically. "He was stabbed eleven times, and I believe the last one is what killed him. Very clean slice to the neck."

"Think the others were color?"

"Oh, not at all. I think the last blow was a lucky strike, so to speak. This was a rage killing, no doubt about that. The ferocity of the wounds, the depth of them--whoever killed this young man was incredibly angry." Ducky shook his head. "I haven't seen a case like this in years."

"And we recovered the murder weapon at the scene, so that's no help," Tony murmured.

"No, and that didn't have prints on it. Our killer wiped it off." Ducky grimaced.

"What about the angle of the blows? Do we have any idea how tall our killer was?" Tony asked, looking for something they could use.

"Unfortunately not. Most of the blows were delivered while the victim was prone, likely after he'd been knocked over. The ones that weren't were almost straight-on. There's no real way to determine height." Ducky sighed. "And with rage-induced strength..."

"Yeah. Thanks, Ducky." Tony smiled and headed back upstairs. Ziva and Gibbs weren't back yet, so he spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Francis had been working on until all four of them came back. He still wasn't sure, and the specifics made his head hurt. All he could figure out was that it had something to do with surveilance equipment, and that Francis had been focusing specifically on hidden cameras and videos. "Perfect project for a stalker," he said in disgust, shoving back from his desk. "Fuck me, how did no one see this? And how the hell could Morales not have known?"

At that point, Gibbs and Ziva came back in, as well as Stephen and Joshua. Stephen wore pure black--turtleneck and pants--and Joshua had on jeans and a red silk shirt.

"Do you ever wear color?" Ziva asked as they walked toward interrogation.

Stephen gave her a cool look. "Is it relevant to the investigation?"

She looked a bit taken aback. "You can wait here," she said, nodding to a tiny waiting room.

"No. If you're going to question Joshua, I'm going to observe. Otherwise, we're leaving." Stephen's tone left no room for argument and when Tony glanced at Gibbs, he grimaced but nodded.

Tony, Ziva, and Stephen went into the small observation room; Gibbs and Joshua sat down at the table in the interrogation room. Joshua had his hands folded in front of him--there was a smear of paint on his right index finger, Tony noticed absently.

"How long have you lived in that apartment?" Gibbs asked.

Joshua shrugged. "About two years. Stephen moved in with me about nine months ago and we took both apartments and made them one. Why?"

"When did Drake Francis move in?"

"Shortly after Stephen did, I think. I don't know."

"So he's been living there for a while," Gibbs commented.

"Yeah, I guess." Joshua shrugged. "Why?"

"Your friends said he tended to hang around a bit, kind of made a pest of himself. You never noticed?"

"I noticed he hung around, sure. And Stephen invited him over for dinner once in a while. Honestly, I didn't really pay much attention."

"You didn't notice he'd come over for coffee when you weren't home?"

"Stephen probably told me and I forgot. I didn't know him, and I didn't really care one way or the other."

"You didn't care that he was stalking your lover?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

Joshua's jaw tightened. "I didn't know he was stalking Stephen. Believe me, if I'd known, I would have cared."

"You would have done something, wouldn't you? You're quite the possessive one, from what I've heard." Gibbs sipped his coffee placidly.

"I didn't know," Joshua repeated. "And I don't know who you've heard that from. I don't own Stephen."

"But you don't like it when he flirts with other men."

"Would you like it if your wife flirted with other men?" Joshua retorted. "I know it's not serious."

"Serious enough for you to get jealous over it," Gibbs pointed out.

"It's a game, okay? It's a game we play." Joshu ran his hands through his hair. "It's just a fucking game."

"Like some of the other games you play? The ones that leave marks?" Gibbs asked. "Doesn't sound like that's much fun."

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Joshua groaned. "I have never. Not once. Ever. I have never done something to Stephen he didn't want. Ever."

"You've left him with some pretty serious marks," Gibbs pointed out.

In the observation room, Stephen's hands clenched; Tony wondered why.

"So what, that means I'm violent? Or abusive?" Joshua glared at Gibbs. "Look, Agent Gibbs. I'm not stupid. I know that a lot of abusers say that their victims were asking for it, or that they deserved it. My personal life isn't based around that assumption. What Stephen and I do, we do because we both enjoy it. Why don't you ask him what he thinks?"

"I will," Gibbs said mildly. "Where were you Tuesday night?"

"We've been over this. I was at a fundraiser for Amy. Stephen and I got home around three, maybe a little earlier. I don't really remember." Joshua ran his hands through his hair. "Why does any of this matter?"

"Did you drive?"

"We got a ride with a friend."

"Which friend?"

"Paul. Who your agents have already talked to." Joshua blew out a breath. "I didn't kill Drake," he said, clearly fighting for calm. "I didn't know he was obsessed with Stephen. I didn't know he had cameras in our apartment."

"You use knives in your work, don't you?" Gibbs asked, changing topics.

"I use palette knives. They're dull, you use them for paint, and you can't cut anyone with them. They're not even the right shape."

"Have you ever cut Stephen?"

Stephen cursed under his breath, something fierce and bitter Tony didn't understand. Ziva's eyes widened. "You speak Hebrew?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes. Why?" Stephen looked back at the window.

Joshua looked up at the ceiling. "If I say yes, you'll use it as ammunition against me and see me as a violent sadist who enjoys abusing his lover for fun. If I say no, you won't believe me and you'll still use it against me. What's the point in answering at all?"

"Because I'm asking you," Gibbs said.

"For Christ's sake, Joshua, don't say anything," Stephen muttered.

"Once," Joshua said flatly. "We experimented with it once."

"Didn't like it? Or did you like it too much?" Gibbs asked.

"That is none of your business." Joshua rubbed his hands over his face. "None of this is. If it wasn't for those damned cameras--"

"Which you say you know nothing about."

"I don't go home at night and check my house for surveillance equipment!" Joshua exploded. He slammed his hands down on the table; the sound echoed in the room. "Fuck, I don't even use a computer unless I have to. I didn't have a fucking email account until Stephen pushed me into getting one. I work with canvas and paint, not--whatever the fuck is in those things." He gestured. "How the fuck was I supposed to notice that some psycho had snuck cameras into the place when I didn't even know he was obsessed with my lover to begin with?"

Stephen closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "I'm going to kill you when we get home," he muttered.

To Tony's surprise, Gibbs shrugged and stood up. "I'm sure we'll have more questions later, but for now you're free to go. I would, however, like to talk to Mr. Bond."

"Great." Stephen exhaled and turned to Ziva. "How did you know that was Hebrew?" he asked, almost idly.

"I'm Israeli," she answered. "Why?"

Stephen gave her a small, tight smile and said something Tony couldn't understand, but which made Ziva stare at him in shock. "I'm sure you'll see me in there," he said, leaving the room.

"What was that?" Tony asked, on his way out to show Stephen to interrogation.

Ziva glared at him. "Get a dictionary," she snapped.

Joshua didn't watch; he took a seat in the little waiting room, jiggling his knee impatiently. "This won't take long," Tony said as he left.

"It better not." Joshua looked up at the ceiling, and Tony left quietly.

In contrast to Joshua, Stephen sat quietly at the table, body language still and calm. His hair was down, brushed back behind his shoulders, and his hands were folded on the table in front of him. When Gibbs came in and took a seat, Stephen didn't even blink.

"You had no idea Drake Francis was obsessed with you?" Gibbs asked.

"No."

"He was always hanging around your place, wasn't he? Kept trying to invite himself in?"

"As I told you, I thought he had a crush on me. I didn't encourage it." Stephen's voice was calm, mild; for all Tony knew, he could have been having afternoon tea.

"You didn't know the cameras were there?" Gibbs asked skeptically. "You caught on to where they were pretty quickly."

"I'm an architect, Agent Gibbs. I make my living figuring out angles and lines of sight. No, I didn't know the cameras were there." Stephen shrugged slightly.

"Some of the video from those cameras is pretty disturbing," Gibbs said. "Your lover is pretty vehement that it's all consensual."

"I'm into sado-masochism, Agent Gibbs. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime, barring any outdated sodomy laws on the books. If you'd like to charge me with one of those, I'll be happy to take it to court."

Tony whistled through his teeth. "He's a cool one," he murmured.

"Too cool. There's something under there." Ziva shook her head. "He'll break."

"You think so? Or are you just pissed at whatever he said?"

She glared at him.

"Sado-masochism to the extent of being cut?" Gibbs asked. "That's pretty extreme."

"Is that a crime, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Just seems to me that a man capable of hurting you the way he does would also be capable of violence against someone else."

Tony thought they were going to get a reaction out of Stephen from that one, but he just brushed a lock of hair back from his face and folded his hands again. "If you saw the scenes, you also what happens before and after them," he said calmly. "Yes, there's pain involved, but I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of the endorphin rush and the way pain can become pleasure. I highly doubt you've been in law enforcement this long and not come across it before, or experienced it to some extent. I'd be happy to give you a crash course in S&M, Agent Gibbs, but that's not why we're here."

"What time did you and Joshua get home after the fundraiser?" Gibbs asked abruptly.

"I didn't have my watch on, but I think it was around two-thirty, maybe a little later. Paul would be able to tell you what time he dropped us off."

"You didn't have your watch on because it was missing, right? How did you not notice?"

"I have two watches. The one Joshua gave me I wear as a dress watch. We were in a hurry and I didn't think about it until we got there and I realized I didn't have a watch on. I didn't realize my Star was missing, for that matter, or my pen. And to forestall your next question, even if I had realized, I wouldn't have thought Drake took them."

"Why not?" Gibbs asked.

Stephen shrugged. "He seemed harmless enough. A little clingy, and I didn't feel comfortable having him around the apartment much."

"Because Joshua might find out?"

"Because I like solitude, Agent Gibbs, and while I liked Drake's company in small doses I didn't particularly want him around all the time." Stephen brushed a lock of hair back again.

"Are you sure coffee was all you and Drake had?" Gibbs asked. "You wouldn't be the first man to step out on his lover like that."

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" Stephen countered evenly. "If you have the videos, Agent Gibbs, you know that I don't sleep with anyone but Joshua. And I wouldn't go to Drake's apartment for an affair, either. Feel free to investigate, if you think otherwise, but you'll waste your time and money doing so. I don't know about you--but when I'm involved with someone, I stay faithful to him."

Tony winced. "Ouch," he whispered.

"So you have no idea who killed Drake Francis," Gibbs said, leaning back in his chair. "You lived above the man, you knew him, and you have no idea?"

"No. He wasn't involved with anyone that I knew of and I didn't know much about his work. I'd recommend looking there." Stephen shrugged. "But it wasn't me, and it wasn't Joshua. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Gibbs eyed him for a moment, then stood up. "No. Not at this time. We'll be in touch."

Stephen rose to his feet gracefully. "I'm sure you will."

"I'm going to follow him outside," Tony murmured to Ziva. "I have a hunch."

She blinked, but shrugged. "Your call."

Tony slipped outside after the two of them, hanging back and watching as they turned the corner so they weren't quite in public. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but he had a feeling he'd see something.

Joshua stepped back, watching Stephen carefully. "Okay, babe," he said quietly. "Talk to me."

Stephen growled and spat out a string of words in Hebrew, running his hands through his hair. He shook his head almost violently, snarling something under his breath. "And if you lose your temper like that again in front of someone who's trying to accuse you of murder I'm going to fucking kill you!" he ended, explosively. "Christ, Joshua, don't you know any better?"

"I didn't get arrested, did I?" Joshua pointed out.

"Because they don't have any evidence!" Stephen all-but shouted. "You think you'd be out here if they had one piece of evidence to indicate you killed Drake?"

"They don't have any, and they're not going to get any, because I didn't do it!" Joshua snapped back.

"I know. I know." Stephen sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. "I know." He shook his head. "Let's go home, Joshua."

Joshua slung an arm around his lover's shoulders as they walked off.

Okay. That had been interesting. And a pretty good indication that both of them were innocent. Question was, who was guilty?

"DiNozzo, where the hell were you?" Gibbs barked when he came back in.

"Following our two guests out of the building." Tony sighed. "I don't think either of them did it, Boss."

"You think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs glared at him. "Find me who did!" He stalked out of the bullpen, heading up the stairs.

"Thwarted girlfriend? Co-worker?" Tony offered to Ziva.

"Stephen said he didn't have a girlfriend, and given Drake's obsession, I'd tend to agree. Gibbs and I talked to Christina, and she said that she didn't know of anyone special in Drake's life." Ziva shrugged. "She seemed pretty upset, but I couldn't quite figure out whether it was over Francis being killed or whether she was upset over her project being destroyed."

"Have we even figured out what that's about?" Tony asked in exasperation.

"Somewhat. Surveilance cameras, definitely, and videos. I think it had to do with terrorist cells and ways to get information, but I'm not entirely certain. No one at the DoD is talking and Morales only said it was a highly technical research project." Ziva sighed. "And she didn't seem to know anything about Stephen."

"It's weird," Tony said, leaning against the wall. "Given how obsessed Drake was, you'd think he'd have talked to someone."

"Well, someone came over for coffee," Abby said, walking into the bullpen. She handed Tony a printout of the picture. "Day before the murder, three of them having coffee in the apartment. Stephen, Drake, and--"

"That's Drake's co-worker," Ziva said, tapping the picture. "Christina Morales. But she said she didn't know Stephen."

"To quote Gibbs--everybody lies," Tony said wryly. "Let's go find out what else the lovely Ms. Morales is hiding."

Christina Morales was not at work. "She called in sick today," her supervisor said. "I guess she's still upset over Drake. Poor boy."

Tony didn't feel like enlightening the woman. "They were more than co-workers?" he asked.

"Well, no, not that I know of." The plump woman turned away from her keyboard, spreading ringless hands. "And there was some professional discord going on--Drake had just received a commendation for a project, and Christina felt she should have gotten at least half the credit. It wasn't up to me, and I told her that if she felt that way, she needed to take it up with the project managers."

"Wait--wasn't the credit shared on that project?" Tony asked in confusion. "Dr...St. Clair?"

Dr. St. Clair shook her head. "No, not at all. Both Christina and Drake worked on it, but in the end the technical details were his and so he received the commendation on his record. The lab as a whole would benefit, but personally it went on Drake's record, not Christina's."

"She didn't mention any of this to us," Ziva murmured. "Do you know how she felt about Drake personally?" she asked the woman.

"Not entirely. I think she would have been interested, if he'd asked her out on a date, but he never did." The woman shrugged again. "Then again, Drake wasn't exactly straight. I know, don't ask don't tell. I didn't ask, but Drake told. He mentioned a couple of times that there was this young man he was interested in."

"Did Christina know about him?" Tony asked.

"Oh, she'd have had to. She and Drake worked together on a daily basis. They were my best team. Drake was a genius with electronics." Dr. St. Clair smiled a little. "There wasn't much he couldn't do."

"Yeah. We're getting that impression." Tony gave her a grin. "Thanks."

"Professional jealousy and personal resentment," Ziva said once they were in the car again. "An explosive mix."

"Could be she wanted Drake to herself," Tony commented. "Let's go visit Dr. Morales at home."

"I--I wasn't feeling well," Christina said, nervously twisting her hands together. "Marie--Dr. St. Clair--said I could take the day."

"Sure, we understand." Tony grinned. "You and Drake were friends, weren't you?"

"Y-yes. Mostly." Christina let them into the small apartment, which was neat as a pin. A pile of scientific journals sat on a glass-topped coffee table and there was a laptop computer set up on a table nearby. "I mean, he wasn't interested in me. In women in general," she added hastily. "I wasn't--I wasn't going to tell, you know, but...he talked about this guy he knew. Said he was special."

"Did you ever meet this guy?" Tony asked easily.

"N-no." Christina's eyes darted away. "Drake just talked about him."

"Really." Tony smiled. "That's kind of interesting, Christina, because it looks like you were at his apartment the day before Drake was killed." He took the picture out of his pocket and showed it to her.

Ziva shook her head. "I think you might want to come in and talk to us," she said briskly.

Christina looked between the two of them almost frantically. She pulled herself together, standing straight, and nodded. "All right," she said in a resigned voice. "Let's go."

In the end, it was easy. Christina shook her head to a lawyer, just requested some water.

"What happened, Dr. Morales?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"It wasn't like I meant it," she said. "Just--" She hesitated, looking like she couldn't say it.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked again, gently.

"I was so angry," Christina said in the interrogation room, looking down at her hands. "So angry--that project was my work. My brainchild. And he was going to get the credit. And on top of that--" She shook her head. "It wasn't that I was in love with him. But I couldn't stand how--how obsessed he was with this guy, who didn't even know or deserve him--" She bit her lip. "I went over there, that night--it was late, and I thought I'd talk to him. I couldn't sleep, and I knew he was a night owl. I thought maybe I could convince him to talk to the PMs, give me credit on the project. I got there, and he was watching these recordings--"

Her face twisted in disgust. "He'd taken materials from our lab and used them to become a sick Peeping Tom, you know? And he laughed at me. He told me that the project was his idea, and he was going to get the commendation, and no one would believe me because he was the electronics genius. And--he told me that he was watching the recordings to get proof that Joshua was abusing Stephen, because Stephen belonged with someone who would take care of him. Not some starving artist who liked to play with whips, to put it the way he did."

Christina looked down at her hands again. "I got so angry--just over everything--and I grabbed the knife out of his knife block. And I stabbed him, and again, and he fell down, and I just...kept stabbing him until he stopped moving. I wiped off the handle and I went to his computer and I made copies of the work data and the new stuff he was working on. And I left. I was wearing black, and I'd driven, so...there wasn't much blood to see."

"Did you know Drake was stalking Stephen before that night?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"No. I knew Drake was interested, but he didn't even tell me Stephen had a partner until that day he brought me over for coffee. And I didn't realize how--how obsessed he was until I saw his computer. He didn't have stuff all over his apartment. He was careful." Christina sighed. "He would have killed one of them, I think," she said meditatively. "Either Joshua, so he could have Stephen, or Stephen, because he couldn't have him."

Tony had to agree.

Interrogation over, Christina was led away for booking and processing, and Tony was left in the bullpen, typing up his report. "It's weird," he said, almost to himself.

"What's weird, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked from across the room.

Tony pushed out of his chair and walked over to him. "We followed the leads we had, and that led us to Joshua and Stephen. But I can't help..." He sighed. "I kind of liked them, Boss. And now we've got six months of their lives on computer."

"Nothing we can do about that, Tony." Gibbs looked up at him. "I don't like it either, but that's evidence."

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "I know. Just saying."

"I know." Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "But there's nothing we can do."

Unfortunately, he was right. Tony sighed and went back to his desk. Maybe Abby could encode the data somehow so that no one could read it without some sort of password or something. In the meantime, he needed to finish his report and he had a date to meet at seven.

But he'd personally make the trip to give Stephen Bond his possessions back. The man deserved that much. They couldn't give him back six months of privacy, but they could give him back the tangible items Drake Francis had taken.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

The music, as before, was loud, but this time it was some techno-trance thing Tony didn't recognize. He knocked on the door, waited a little bit, and knocked again. He was about to knock for the third time when the music abruptly shut off and the door swung open.

Stephen stood there, dressed in a white leotard and white yoga pants. He was barefoot, and his hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck. A few strands had excaped, clinging to the side of his face. His skin was damp with perspiration and flushed from his workout. When he saw Tony, his face closed up. "Yes?" he asked coolly.

"I came to return some things," Tony said matter-of-factly.

"My belongings?" Stephen asked without moving.

"Among others. Can I come in to put them down?"

Stephen seemed to consider it for a moment, but he nodded and stepped aside.

Tony set his backpack down on the small kitchen table. "Sweater," he said, handing over the plastic bag. "Pen. Necklace. And your watch." The last three items were in small boxes; he set them down carefully. "And...this." He took the spindle out of his backpack and put it down next to them.

"What is 'this'?" Stephen asked.

Tony straightened up and looked at him. "CDs," he said simply. "I don't know how many--Abby just handed me the spindle. I didn't bother to count."

"What's on them?" Stephen asked carefully.

"Six months of your life," Tony told him. "It's not evidence directly related to the case, and this won't be going to trial since Dr.Morales confessed. We're keeping the equipment, of course, but...I got the okay to erase the data. But I thought you might want a copy. You can watch them, break them in half, do whatever you want with them, but they're the only existing copy of the videos Drake had."

For a long moment, Stephen just stared at him. "Why?" he asked finally. His voice was hoarse.

"Because--" Tony sighed. "I'm not going to apologize for the investigation," he said. "We followed the leads we had." It wasn't an answer, and it wasn't an apology, but it was what he had.

"I know that. I have two brothers-in-law who are lawyers. That doesn't mean I enjoyed it." Stephen began picking up items from the table and carrying them over to the heavy wooden dresser by the bed. While he did, Tony looked around.

The whole place was wide-open and airy, bookshelves acting as partitions and setting up smaller areas. Stephen's work area, Joshua's paints, a section with a couch and a coffee table and a TV. There were a couple of doors Tony assumed were to bathrooms and maybe a spare bedroom, as well. The large windows and skylights let in tons of sunshine, but the dark wooden furniture and splashes of bright color--blue couch, yellow chairs, green bed coverings, and of course Joshua's paintings--kept it from feeling too cavernous.

Tony would never have wanted to live there, but he had to admit it was unique. "Where are all the speakers?" he asked curiously.

"Wired up there," Stephen said, gesturing at the ceiling. "We set up the sound system after one of Joshua's showings. He'd sold three pieces, so we splurged." He smiled, folding the sweater neatly and putting it away in a drawer. "Can I offer you some tea or coffee?"

"You don't have to," Tony said in surprise. He'd figured he'd come by, give Stephen back his things, and leave. It wasn't like the man was his friend. Under the circumstances, Tony doubted Stephen even liked him all that much.

"You just gave me back some items I cared about very much, along with six months of my life. I'd say I do." Stephen walked over to the kitchen area and took down two hand-thrown clay mugs, glazed in shades of blue. "Would you mind if I made tea instead? I've had enough caffeine for the day."

"That's fine. Really, you don't have to."

"Cinnamon or peppermint?" Stephen asked.

"Ah--peppermint, please." Tony realized he wasn't going to win the argument and gave into his curiosity, walking around a little. Stephen didn't seem to mind, so he circled around a couple of tall bookcases and ended up facing the bed.

Now that he knew what it was, it made him shiver. But...

"Do you want one?" Stephen asked from behind him. Tony jumped; he hadn't heard Stephen come over.

"Ah--no. That's--it's not really my thing." Tony managed a smile and turned to him. "Where do you even get something like this?"

"Catalogs. Or you know someone. In this case, I know the manufacturer and was able to get it at cost." Stephen stroked one of the metal bedposts fondly.

"Why would you want one?"

The kettle began to whistle, saving Stephen from an immediate reply. He padded back over to the kitchen, pouring water into two mugs. The scent of cinnamon and peppermint mingled and Stephen handed him one of the mugs. There was a heavy glazed plate on the table, piled with chunky chocolate chip cookies.

"My sister Anna makes them," Stephen said with a nod to the cookies. "She's a kindergarten teacher with three children of her own. And for some reason, she believes I'll starve if she doesn't give me a care package every week."

Tony smiled. "I was an only child, and…well, my family didn't run to care packages." He sat down, taking a cookie.

"I'm the third of six," Stephen said matter-of-factly. "Four sisters and a brother. Anna's my oldest sister."

The cookies were excellent; Tony polished off the first one in three bites and looked at the plate contemplatively before taking a second.

"So." Stephen pulled his legs up into a half-lotus position and sipped his tea. "Do you really want to know why someone wants a bed like that? Or are you asking out of repulsion?"

"Good question. Sure you weren't a psych major?" Tony asked wryly.

"I've been part of the lifestyle for almost ten years, Agent DiNozzo. I'm not ashamed of what I like and I'm not ashamed of who I am. I am, however, used to dealing with all sorts of reactions to it. If you really want to know, I'll be happy to tell you. If you're asking from a gut reaction of disgust, we'll finish our tea and you can be on your way." Stephen took another sip of tea.

"I guess...I don't know," Tony admitted. "What I saw on those tapes--that didn't look like pleasure." He grinned. "And could you call me Tony? I mean, if we're going to be sitting here talking about--about this, I'd like to leave the job behind." He had to smile, realizing how that sounded. "Well, now that I can."

"Fair enough. And you're right, you know. It doesn't look like pleasure, on the surface." Stephen shrugged. "Let me try and give you an example, Tony. You look like you're an athlete, right?"

"Yeah. I almost went pro," Tony said, swallowing a bite of cookie.

"So you're familiar with the 'runner's high'?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah."

"But it hurts before you get there. I mean, you're running, and your lungs hurt and your throat hurts and your muscles burn and it's uncomfortable, isn't it?" Stephen took a cookie and broke off a piece.

"Yeah, it is. But it's worth it, because you've accomplished something. And the endorphins...man." Tony shook his head. "There's nothing like it." He could still remember the way he'd felt at the end of games--that walking on air, totally high feeling. Alcohol had nothing on it.

"You just made my point for me." Stephen smiled. "The way pain becomes pleausre? That's been around pretty much forever. It doesn't take much for one to become the other. Did you ever play with candles as a child? Press your fingers into the hot wax? Same concept."

"Still, though. That seems a bit extreme." Tony gestured toward the bed.

"I didn't say it wasn't." Stephen took a bite of cookie. "I work hard, and I play hard. So does Joshua. Different people can take different levels of sensation, and I tend to enjoy more than most."

He was about to say something else when the heavy door slammed open. "Stephen!" Joshua called, sounding excited. "Hey, babe, you'll never guess what happened!"

From where he sat, Tony couldn't see him, but Stephen could. He got up--just in time for Joshua to catch him up in a long, deep embrace. Tony saw that part and averted his eyes.

"So I was talking to my agent today, and apparently Lowenstein liked my work. He wants another showing. In two months. Thirty pieces. Now, I've got a bunch ready, but that's going to be a lot of work to get done, and I want that series done to display, and--"

Joshua froze when he caught sight of Tony. "What is he doing here?" he asked coolly, one hand resting possessively on Stephen's shoulder.

"He," Stephen said, "is here because he came by to return my things. And I invited him to stay for tea."

"Why?" The hostility in Joshua's voice was enough to make Tony wince.

"Because he also gave us back the only copy of the recordings Drake made," Stephen told him. "NCIS doesn't have them. No one does, except us."

"They weren't evidence in the case, and since Christina Morales confessed it won't be going to trial. I got permission to delete the recordings at work, but I thought you two might like them, if only to be able to destroy them." Tony didn't bother to say anything about the hours of research it had taken him to find the loophole he'd needed to excuse erasing the recordings, nor did he say anything about the way he'd twisted said loophole to justify creating their copy. McGee didn't know, neither did Ziva. Abby wasn't going to say a word and Gibbs was either turning a blind eye or oblivious.

Tony's money was on the former. He wasn't sure why, but it was enough that he'd been able to do what he needed to, especially given that he still wasn't entirely sure why he'd done it.

It was fascinating to watch Joshua's expression go from hostile to surprised to cheerful within the space of thirty seconds. "Well, hell," he said with a laugh. He held out his hand and Tony stood, walking around the table to take it.

He was a little surprised when Joshua pulled him into a hard hug and kissed him soundly on the mouth before letting him go. Tony blinked, dazed.

"Little impulsive, isn't he?" Stephen said wryly.

"Something like that," Tony said, shaking his head.

"So do we erase these or look at them?" Joshua said, contemplating the spindle of CDs.

Stephen took off the cover and picked up the first CD, walking into the kitchen and opening a drawer. He returned with a pair of kitchen shears and proceeded to slowly cut the CD in half.

"Right." Joshua picked up another one, looking at it contemplatively. "You know, if we strung these right, they'd make great suncatchers."

"Oh, sure, so I can have six months of my life hanging in the window?" Stephen retorted, walking back over. "I don't think so."

"Just a thought, babe." Joshua slung an arm around Stephen's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "I was thinking we could go out tonight."

"You and me, or you and me and Amy and Paul?" Stephen asked dryly.

"And Agent Whoever, here, if he wants to come." Joshua grinned. Tony blinked; that was unexpected.

"His name is Tony," Stephen told Joshua.

"Right, sorry." Joshua ran his hands through his hair. "I had a boyfriend named Tony once. He had really fair skin--natural redhead, you know? Showed marks really well."

"Really," Stephen said, raising a brow. "Do elaborate, why don't you?"

"Ah--" Joshua looked at his lover's face and winced. "How about we drop the subject?"

"Smart man."

Tony hid a laugh. "I--ah--I should--" The invitation was nice, but he didn't belong. The tea had been one thing, but this--yeah, it was time to leave before he outstayed his welcome any more than he already had.

"You like Greek?" Joshua asked. "There's this really great Greek place just a few blocks away. Their moussaka's amazing and Paul swears by their dolmades."

"I don't--" Tony grinned sheepishly. "I don't want to get in the way, you know?" It did sound good, but--

"Joshua, keep Tony company while I go shower and change. Call them and tell them we'll see them at seven, okay?" Stephen kissed his lover on the cheek and headed off toward the bathroom.

Tony blinked. "Do you ever win an argument with him?" he asked.

"Stephen? No." Joshua grinned. "Not outside of bed, anyway." He picked up a cordless phone and hit speed dial, waiting a moment. "Hey, girl! Stefan's, seven, you in? I'm buying. I'll tell you when I see you." Joshua laughed. "Kiss kiss, baby." He hung up the phone and Tony spared a moment to wonder about the man's energy. It just bubbled off him.

Kind of like Abby. Tony hid a laugh, wondering how much Joshua and Abby had in common. From her reaction to the recordings, she wasn't as hard-core as he was, but...it would be interesting to put them in the same room.

Assuming it didn't explode from energy overload.

Joshua hit another button, drumming his fingers against the counter. "Paul, my darling, Stefan's at seven? I'm buying. Might be, might be. Mm-hmm. See you then? Beautiful." He hung up and tossed the phone down, spinning around in a tight circle. "This could be huge," he told Tony.

"Cool." Tony didn't know anything about art, but Joshua seemed excited enough for both of them. "Listen, I don't want to intrude on--"

"You're not, and if I let you go Stephen's going to be pretty damn pissed. There are a lot of things I'll do, but crossing him when he's made up his mind isn't one of them." Joshua smiled a little. "Unless that's the point."

"I still don't understand that," Tony admitted. "Stephen tried to explain, and I got some of it, but..."

"What's not to understand? Stephen's a masochist. And I don't mean that in the way you normally hear it, you know? He truly enjoys pain. He's able to take it and turn it into pleasure." Joshua bit into a cookie and shrugged. "I mean, if he broke his wrist--that wouldn't be fun. But what I do to him? He loves it."

"And you?" Tony asked.

Joshua grinned. "Can't have a masochist without a sadist, can you?" He licked chocolate off his fingers.

"But you don't hurt other people."

"Why would I?" Joshua seemed genuinely confused.

"But you said..." Tony blinked.

"Masochist, sadist. They go together. I don't get my rocks off hurting people who don't want it. Besides," Joshua said with a grin, "I don't share."

"I got that impression." Tony took a swallow of tea to keep from saying anything about the investigation.

"So why do this?" Joshua asked, gesturing to the spindle. "I mean...I appreciate it. A lot. But why?"

"The evidence didn't directly relate to the case, and it won't be going to trial, so there was no need to keep it. We copied this and erased the data we had," Tony said, sticking to his cover story.

"But why'd you give it to us?"

"Stephen asked me the same question, you know." Tony smiled.

"Well, he's currently blistering his skin off in the shower, so why don't you tell me?" Joshua's voice was casual, and yet...there was something in it Tony couldn't--wait.

He knew that tone of voice. Gibbs had it too--that matter-of-fact, casual arrogance, the simple belief that he had power and whatever he said, people would follow.

Comparing Joshua to Gibbs--well, that wasn't something he'd have expected to work. And yet...it fit.

Gibbs and Abby. Now that was a deadly combination.

Tony set down his mug, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I told Stephen, and I'll tell you, that I'm not apologizing for the investigation. We followed the leads we had."

Joshua shrugged. "That's up to you. Still doesn't explain why you're in my kitchen eating Anna's cookies with six months of my life on the table."

"I guess not." Tony grinned. "They're really good cookies, though."

"I'll tell her you said so. Why?" Joshua asked evenly.

"Because I thought you deserved them," Tony admitted. "Look. I don't really understand what you do in bed and I'm not sure I want to. But whatever you do, it's consensual, and you don't deserve to have six months of it in government archives."

"Okay." Joshua nodded. "Makes sense." He smiled. "But you're lying."

"What?" A little stunned, Tony stared at him.

"Oh, you're telling the truth about why you brought back the CDs. But the rest?" Joshua grinned and shook his head. "I've been around the scene since I was seventeen and my boyfriend brought handcuffs to bed. I know when someone's interested, and I know you want to understand. And Stephen already explained a bit, didn't he?"

Tony nodded, a little defensively.

Joshua leaned in. "It doesn't make sense because you don't want it to make sense. Stop fighting that, and it'll get a lot clearer." He straightened up and turned to Stephen, who had emerged from the shower at some point and was pulling on a pair of black jeans. "Tease," he said with a laugh.

Stephen buttoned his jeans and pulled on a a soft grey Henley, pushing up the sleeves. "I deliver." He fastened his watch and picked up a brush, running it through his hair. "Are you done terrorizing Tony?"

"I wasn't terrorizing. I was just talking to him."

"Uh huh. Sure you were." Stephen pulled on a pair of black tennis shoes and walked over to them. His hair was damp, brushed neatly back from his face, and he'd apparently shaved.

Tony blinked. "You never wear color, do you?" And yeah, Abby had mentioned that before, but...it was still weird to see.

Stephen grinned. "Nope. I used to smoke, too, but I decided that was just too pretentious. So I settled for a monochrome wardrobe. Makes getting dressed a lot easier."

"But he still spends half an hour picking out his clothes." Joshua rolled his eyes.

"This from the man who shows up to dinner in paint spattered jeans and ripped T-shirts."

"You don't strike me as a smoker," Tony said, backtracking a bit.

"I lasted about two months, and it was about ten years ago." Stephen grinned and shrugged.

"I never did," Joshua commented. "But I couldn't really afford cigarettes."

"Joshua, you couldn't really afford food," Stephen pointed out.

"Right! Food! We have to get going."

"I really should--" Tony tried again on the way downstairs.

"It's just a few blocks this way," Stephen said, ignoring him. "Not a bad walk, especially on a night like this."

"Stephen, I appreciate the courtesy, but--"

"You might as well give up now," Joshua told him, laughing. "For a bottom, he's remarkably dominant."

"When I want to be." Stephen smiled blandly. "I did tell you I switched."

"Not with me, you don't." There it was again--that hint of power and arrogance, barely hidden in Joshua's voice. Tony blinked.

"Of course not, O Lord and Master," Stephen said dryly.

Joshua came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face Stephen, who was a step above him. He reached up and tangled his hand in Stephen's hair, pulling his head back. "You want to try that again?" he asked softly, and there was nothing hiding in his voice now.

Stephen swallowed, his eyes half-closing. "Joshua," he murmured, his voice soft and--Tony couldn't figure out what it was.

Tony looked between them, wondering if he could slip past Joshua and make his escape. But he took one step and Joshua's other hand grabbed his shoulder. "Not skipping out already, are you?" he purred, still looking at Stephen.

"Joshua." Stephen's voice was sharp. "He's not yours to play with. Let the boy be."

Tony felt like arguing that he was older than both of them, but decided--wisely--to keep his mouth shut. There was a dynamic here he didn't really understand, and it wasn't something he wanted to disturb. He wasn't sure what was twisting in the pit of his stomach but he was pretty sure he didn't want to look at that too closely, either.

"Why?" Joshua asked softly. "Why should I?"

"He's not yours, Joshua. You don't have the right to push him when he doesn't know what he's doing. Let the boy be," Stephen repeated. "He doesn't understand and you're going to scare him."

"Oh, I don't think he's scared," Joshua said with a laugh.

"Stop it, Joshua, or you're sleeping at Amy's tonight. I warned you last time--leash it or I will." Stephen pulled his head away. "Enough."

Joshua lowered his hand from Tony's shoulder. "Don't push me," he warned Stephen.

"Don't push him."

Stephen met Joshua's gaze evenly and after a moment, Tony was surprised to see Joshua lower his eyes. "I did it again, didn't I?" he asked wryly.

"Yeah, you did, and if you keep doing this we're going to have some more conversations." Stephen came down the last step.

"I know. I'm sorry." Joshua turned to Tony. "I am sorry, Tony," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean to do that."

Tony shook his head. "It's okay. Really." Over, done, end of story. Really.

Joshua studied his face carefully, then nodded. "All right."

And just like that, it was over. "There is spanikopita calling my name," Joshua said cheerfully, turning and pushing the door to the building open before heading out onto the street. Tony lagged behind a few steps, and Stephen stayed with him.

"He doesn't mean to do it, you know," Stephen said with a nod to Joshua. "It's just such a part of who he is that sometimes he doesn't think about it. I'm sorry if he scared you."

Tony shook his head. "He didn't." Startled, yes, and that feeling in the pit of his stomach hadn't gone away, but scared wasn't on the list.

Stephen looked at him a bit more closely. "And then again, maybe scaring you isn't what I should be apologizing for," he murmured.

"It's fine. Really." Tony managed a smile. "I'm just--this is your dinner, with your friends, and I don't...Christ, Stephen, I just did my best to point the finger at Joshua for murder."

"I know. And you don't need to tell me that I was next on the list. Frankly, after that interrogation I was likely higher on the list than Joshua, except that you didn't have any evidence. However, neither one of us was arrested, you've given us back something we can't ever repay, and this is the least we can do to say thank you. Besides." Stephen smiled. "Do you really want both Joshua and myself telling you to leave?"

"Um." Tony shook his head a little. "I don't think so."

"Good answer."

The rest of the walk passed in companionable silence and the three of them arrived at the restaurant just before seven. Joshua apparently knew the hostess, a plump middle-aged woman; he kissed her on both cheeks and she tapped his head with a menu before seating them at a large round table in the back.

Tony noticed wryly that Stephen managed to arrange the seats so that Tony was between Stephen and the wall, with no easy way out. He shook his head inwardly, thinking that while Joshua was the more obviously dominant of the two, Stephen, in his own quiet way, was likely the more dangerous.

Amy came running in a moment later, out of breath and with a hobo bag slung over one shoulder. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she said breathlessly. "I got caught up at work and the fax machine broke and wouldn't you know it, we needed five hundred copies of this new pamphlet and Kate got sick so I had to run to Staples and what the fuck is he doing here?" she asked, dropping into a seat.

"He," Joshua said, "gave us back the recordings Drake made. And erased all the other copies. And his name is Tony."

"Oh!" Amy bounced in her seat. "Totally cool, then. Sorry I got so pissed at you, but, well..." She shrugged.

"Part of the job," Tony told her wryly. "I'm used to people getting pissed at me." He wasn't so used to the easy forgiveness.

"So where's Paul?" Amy asked.

Joshua just looked at her incredulously. "You're asking where Paul is?"

"Okay, okay, point taken." Amy laughed.

"Someone want to enlighten the clueless?" Tony asked warily.

"Paul's always late. He has to set two alarms so he makes it to his classes on time. We'll be lucky if we see him by the time our entrees get here," Stephen explained.

"Gotcha."

Dinner passed much more pleasantly than Tony had thought it would. Paul drifted in around seven-twenty and didn't even ask why Tony was there, just smiled and nodded and stole a bite of Amy's moussaka.

Tony didn't even realize what time it was until the check arrived and he looked at his watch. "Nine-thirty?" he asked in surprise. How the hell had he done that? He'd intended to be home by seven as it was.

"God, is it that late?" Paul asked with a wince. "I've got to get going--I have a eight a.m. class tomorrow and papers to grade. What's my share?"

"I've got it," Joshua said, waving him off. "Showing in two months and all that."

"Far be it from me to argue." Paul grinned, gave everyone a wave, and headed out.

"You two heading back to your place?" Amy asked.

Joshua pulled some bills out of his wallet and tossed them on top of the check. "Yeah, you wanna come hang for a bit?"

She looked at him, then Stephen, then laughed and shook her head. "Not a chance. Not when you're in one of your moods."

"I beg your pardon?" Joshua asked indignantly.

"Ten bucks you went toppy on him before we got here," she dared him. "I've known you how long, darling? I saw that look in your eyes and I've seen his body language all through dinner. Just make it in the door first, would you?"

Joshua rolled his eyes. "And you wonder why I don't like women."

Amy went around the table to him. "And you wonder why I don't like men." She leaned down and gave him a long kiss. "Kiss kiss, darling," she said, waggling her fingers.

"Kiss kiss, baby." Joshua looked at Stephen and Tony. "Shall we?" he asked.

"I parked around the corner from you," Tony said as they walked back. "And I've got my kit, so...thank you. For everything."

"Leaving so soon?" Joshua asked with a mock pout.

"After what your friend said, I think it's probably for the best." Tony dug out his keys.

"Sure you don't want to come up for tea?" Stephen grinned. "I have peanut butter cookies to go with it."

"Did your sister make them?" Tony asked with an inward groan for his waistline.

"Actually, I did." Stephen pulled his keys out of his pocket. "I'm not half bad."

"Anna taught him well," Joshua confirmed. "C'mon up, Tony. We won't bite."

Stephen smacked Joshua's shoulder lightly. "We won't keep you too late. Promise." He grinned again, and Tony figured what the hell? He liked Stephen, truth be told, and it wasn't like he had to get up for work the next day.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "Why not?"

Joshua clapped him on the back. "Good man. Let's go." He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time; Stephen and Tony followed a bit more sedately.

"Is he always so--" Tony gestured.

"Yes," Stephen said wryly. "Yes, he is."

"How do you live with that?" Tony asked, more than a little confused. Stephen was so quiet and reserved--compared to Joshua and Amy and even Paul, he was positively reticent. And Joshua was almost larger than life, Tony thought. Kind of like the paintings on the walls.

Stephen smiled a little and shrugged. "I love him. And we make it work. There's a balance we can usually find."

"Usually?" Tony asked.

"If it gets out of balance..." Stephen shrugged. "We have ways of fixing it."

Ways that probably included the bed, Tony thought. He shook his head, not sure he wanted to think that closely about it.

When they walked into the apartment, Joshua had the music on low--jazz, Tony thought. Something low and sultry. The kettle was heating and mugs were on the counter. "Babe, I don't know where you put the cookies," Joshua said, sticking his head in a cabinet.

Stephen rolled his eyes. "I put them away, Joshua. Where they always go. Look, here." He pushed Joshua out of the way and took out an elephant-shaped cookie jar. "My sister loves elephants," he said, setting it on the table. "And she thinks everyone else should, too."

"Anna?" Tony hazarded a guess.

Stephen opened the jar and began setting cookies on a plate. "No, Leah. She's my second-oldest. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Don't try to keep his family straight," Joshua advised, pouring water over tea bags; Tony smelled Earl Grey. "It'll just give you a headache."

"It's not that hard. Anna, Leah and Ruth-- they're twins--me, Judy, and Daniel." Stephen took his mug and a cookie. "Milk or sugar?" he asked Tony.

"No, I'm fine, thanks." Tony sipped his tea. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the concept of six siblings, I guess."

"Mm-hmm. Four girls, two boys, and sixteen years between oldest and youngest. Daniel was kind of a surprise baby." Stephen broke off a piece of cookie and dunked it in his tea. "And I'm the black sheep."

"Because you're gay?" Tony hazarded a guess.

"Got it in one." Stephen grinned. "Although right now I think my sister Ruth has the black sheep title. She's a photojournalist currently in Iraq."

"She's a Jewish woman with a camera in Iraq?" Tony stared at him. "Is she insane?"

"Pretty much, yes. She travels with a reporter and the two of them have so far managed to stay safe." Stephen shrugged.

"Sometimes I'm glad I was an only child," Tony admitted. "Sometimes..."

"But at least you didn't have to fight three teenage girls for the bathroom," Stephen pointed out.

"Good point." Tony winced. He took a cookie and bit into it, not really surprised when it was almost as good as the ones he'd had earlier.

"So." Stephen pulled his legs up into half-lotus. "You're single, you're cute, I'm guessing you're HIV negative...why's there no one in your life?"

"How do you know I'm single?" Tony countered.

Stephen grinned. "If you weren't, you'd have either left or invited your current partner to join us."

"Maybe I just haven't found the right person yet." Tony grinned back, giving Stephen a teasing once-over.

To his complete surprise, Stephen returned it. "And you're apparently not as straight as you pretend." Stephen laughed. "Good for us."

"Us?" Tony asked, confused.

Stephen gestured with his cookie. "Us. Gay men in general."

"Yeah, well..." Tony shrugged. "I like women, too."

"Nothing wrong with that. Don't limit your options."

"But you're completely gay." Tony smoothed his hair back, not really sure where this conversation was going.

"Mm-hmm." Stephen smiled. "I like men." He stretched his arms over his head, dropping his head back. "I'm sure you can appreciate that."

Joshua had been quiet through the entire conversation, but Tony noticed the cool look on his face and tensed inwardly. He did not want to get caught between these two.

"Stephen," Joshua said evenly.

"Hmm?" Stephen turned to look at his lover, eyes sparkling.

"Enough."

Stephen gave him a mock-pout. "We're just talking, Joshua. Relax."

"Find a different topic," Joshua told him.

"I should probably be getting home anyway," Tony said hastily. "It's getting late, and--"

"You keep wanting to leave," Stephen said thoughtfully. "Do we make you uncomfortable?"

God, yes. And it wasn't just the power dynamic that vibrated between them. It was the sheer connection they had. Tony didn't really want someone like Joshua, but that control and that--oh, hell. The possessiveness turned him on, and the cool power in Joshua's voice made his stomach clench.

If someone had addressed him like that, if someone wanted him like that--Tony was honest enough to admit that he'd go to his knees. If someone--

Well, it didn't matter. He didn't have anyone like that, he probably wasn't going to have anyone like that, and he was just fine with that.

Stephen looked at him, and Tony realized he hadn't answered the question. "No, it's not that," he said, dragging his thoughts back into the present. "It's just that--I don't belong here."

"Don't belong? Or don't want to belong?" Stephen asked.

"It doesn't matter." Tony blew out a breath. "Thank you. For--everything. But I should go."

"You sure?" Stephen pressed. "You don't have to leave just yet, Tony. Not if you don't want to."

"Stephen."

"Yes?" Stephen turned to look at Joshua.

"Stop pushing him." Joshua reached out and took Stephen's wrist, circling it with his fingers. "You want it that badly, I'll give it to you. But don't push him."

"You did it earlier," Stephen reminded him.

Yeah, and Tony hadn't really appreciated it then either.

"Yes, and you took my head off for it, remember? Enough, Stephen." Joshua squeezed Stephen's wrist. "Enough."

Tony was stunned to see Stephen gasp and close his eyes, his head dropping forward.

"He's not much better than me, sometimes," Joshua said wryly. "And I'm sorry about that."

"It's all right." Tony wasn't sure it was, but thinking about the alternative was just too disturbing. "I'll--yeah. Thank you for dinner, and everything." He stood, nearly knocking over his chair, grabbing his kit. "Thanks," he said again, awkwardly.

Joshua smiled. "Take it easy, Tony."

Stephen looked up at him; his eyes were clear and calm. "I'll see you around," he said easily, but that same softness Tony had heard before dinner was in his voice again.

"Sure." Tony didn't see how, but he wasn't about to argue anything else tonight. "Have--have a good one."

He wasn't too proud to admit that he left as fast as he could.

************
Work on Monday was slow, thankfully, and without any sexual harrassment classes or sensitivity training, he was pretty much resigned to catching up on the endless paperwork and playing video games when Gibbs either didn't notice or didn't care. He was contemplating taking a longish lunch when his phone rang.

"DiNozzo," he said, tucking it under his chin and taking out a pen and piece of paper automatically.

"I'd say Bond, but that got me into so much trouble growing up..." Stephen laughed. "How are you, Tony?"

"I'm--ah, I'm fine. How did you--"

"It's not hard to get the number of a government employee if you know where to look. Am I interrupting something?"

Tony glanced around, but Ziva was stabbing at her keyboard, McGee was down with Abby, and Gibbs was probably up in MTAC. So..."No," he said, keeping his voice low. "No, not at all."

"Oh good. Listen--I wanted to apologize for the other night. Both Joshua and I were way out of line. And I'm truly sorry about that." Stephen sighed. "I think we were both a little wound tight from the case, and getting those CDs back, and you..."

"I got caught in the line of fire," Tony finished, twirling his pen. "It's okay."

"No, it really isn't. Joshua--well, he's done that before, but I...I don't know why I did that to you, Tony, and I really am sorry." Stephen sighed. "Can I buy you dinner to make up for it?"

"It's--you don't have to."

"Please," Stephen said simply. "Let me. Joshua won't be around tonight, if you want--he's got a dinner meeting with his agent."

Tony sighed. "You really don't have to."

"I want to."

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right. Seven okay?"

"Perfect. There's a little Italian place a few blocks from my place--opposite direction of the Greek place. Berducci's."

"I know that one, yeah." Tony smiled. "Best manicotti I've found in the area."

"So seven?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you tonight." Tony hung up the phone and exhaled deeply, looking down at his keyboard. Every instinct he had told him this was probably not going to go well, but...he couldn't quite say no.

"Apologetic date?" Ziva asked archly. "I'm surprised she even called back."

Tony smiled blandly and turned back to his computer. Ziva could think what she wanted; for once, Tony didn't feel like enlightening her or exaggerating the truth. Reality, after all, was more bizarre than anything she'd come up with.

Work ran late, due to a problem with the computer systems, and Tony didn't have time to run home before meeting Stephen. Thankfully, he'd worn a sweater and jeans, and Bertucci's was casual dress. He got to the restaurant two minutes before seven and took one of them to settle his nerves and smooth back his hair before getting out of his car and heading up the block to the door.

Stephen was already there, dressed in a black button-down shirt and charcoal gray pants. His hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, secured with a neat silver clip. "Hi," he said with a warm smile. "I'm glad you made it."

Tony grinned. "Me too." He was a little surprised to realize he meant it.

"This way, gentlemen," the hostess said, leading them to a small booth by the window. "Marc is your server, and he'll be over momentarily to tell you the specials. Can I get either of you something to drink?"

"Just water, thanks," Stephen told her.

"And you, sir?" She turned to Tony.

He was tempted to order a beer, but--probably not a good idea. "Water's fine," he said, flashing her a grin.

She smiled back. "Marc will be right over."

Marc was, in fact, right over. He gave them the list of the specials, their water, and then left to give them some time to decide. Tony closed his menu and tossed it on the table, watching Stephen consider before closing his own menu. "So," Tony said lightly. "What's the occasion?"

Stephen shrugged and sipped his water. "An apology, if you'll take it as one. Peace offering, perhaps. Or just dinner between friends."

"Friends?" Tony asked, startled.

"Why not?" Stephen smiled. "I like you, Tony. I think you're intelligent, you've got a good sense of humor, and you're a nice guy, despite the fact that you tried to build a case against both myself and my lover for murder."

Tony laughed. "Well, sure, if you overlook that little detail."

"What did Christina say?" Stephen asked curiously. "About why she killed Drake?"

Tony was saved from answering immediately by Marc, who came back over with a basket of hot bread. He poured some olive oil and vinegar on a plate and stood back to take their orders--manicotti for Tony, grilled chicken and pasta for Stephen.

"Do you want a piece of this?" Tony asked, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it in the oil.

Stephen shook his head. "No, thanks. What did Christina say?"

Tony sighed. "Professional jealousy, mostly. And some personal anger. She went over to talk to him and saw him watching--"

"Watching me," Stephen filled in when Tony hesitated.

"Yeah. And she snapped." Tony took a bite of bread. He didn't tell Stephen what Christina had said--about Drake wanting to kill one or both of them. There was no need for Stephen to know.

"What--how long will she be in prison?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know. She took a plea bargain. Probably ten years, give or take." Tony took another piece of bread to keep from thinking about it too much.

Stephen nodded. "I'd almost like to go see her," he said thoughtfully.

Tony dropped his bread. "Why?"

"Because..." Stephen tilted his head to the side. "Because lives can connect in very strange ways. I don't know this woman. I've met her once, and yet...she killed someone I knew." He smiled wryly. "Someone who apparently knew me a lot better than I thought."

"You don't have to see her, Stephen." Tony smiled up at Marc, who set their salads in front of them and refilled Stephen's water. "There's absolutely no reason for you to."

"I know that." Stephen sighed. "But...I want to know why, Tony. I want to know why Drake fixated on me like that. And maybe...maybe she knows something, or between us we can figure it out."

"Some things you're better off not knowing." Tony picked up his fork. "Seriously, Stephen. As your friend--it's probably not a good idea."

"Probably not. Doesn't mean I won't do it." Stephen picked up his own and took a bite of lettuce.

"It's really hard to argue you out of something, isn't it," Tony said wryly.

"Pretty much impossible, yes." Stephen smiled and speared a cherry tomato. "Drives Joshua insane."

"I bet." Tony hesitated, moving lettuce around his salad bowl. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Stephen blotted his lips with his napkin and set his fork down. "What's on your mind?"

"Why--" Tony sighed. "Why are you doing this? Dinner last night, and then tonight, and--it's not that I don't appreciate it, and it's not that I don't enjoy the company. But--"

"Tony." Stephen interrupted. "Do you have any idea what it's like to find out someone was obsessed with you? That six months of your life were recorded for someone to watch?"

"No," Tony admitted. "No, I don't."

"Ask anyone--Joshua, Paul, Amy, any of my siblings or friends--and they'll all tell you how much I value my privacy. Growing up in a large family, you learn to either do without or treasure what you get. Drake took that away from me, Tony. It's--" Stephen reached back and unclipped his hair, dragging a hand through it. "It's like rape, Tony. And nothing will make that go away. But what you've done makes it a hell of a lot better. And there is nothing, nothing I can do to repay you for that." He shook his head, hair tumbling around his face.

"You don't have to repay me for anything, Stephen. I was just doing my job." Tony shrugged. "I don't really--I don't need your gratitude."

"And if that was all this was, I'd send you on your way with some of Anna's cookies. It's not, Tony. I like you. And..." Stephen smiled. "I'd be lying if I said that part of me wasn't responding to you."

Their entrees arrived and Tony picked up his fork. "Responding how?"

Stephen smiled and took a bite of pasta. "Part of me can't believe you've gone this long without exploring, or finding out about the lifestyle. Tony...you're a natural. You felt it the other day, with both Joshua and myself--and I'm really, really sorry about that." He grimaced. "I don't like to lose control like that."

"Why did you?" Tony asked.

"Couple of reasons." Stephen looked a bit sheepish. "I was pushing Joshua. I do that sometimes. Generally it's around people I feel comfortable with, who don't mind. But they're also much more aware of things and are able to push back. You weren't able to do that."

"I didn't know how," Tony admitted. He twirled strands of cheese around his fork, taking a bite.

"I know. But that's also..." Stephen sighed. "You're a natural, Tony. And I'm really, really surprised you've never felt it before."

"Natural what?" This wasn't making sense.

"Natural sub," Stephen said simply.

Tony stared at him for a good minute."You're not serious," he said finally.

"I don't tend to joke about that sort of thing." Stephen took another bite of chicken.

"I'm not--no. I'm not--whatever." Tony slumped back against the booth. "I like my sex life the way it is."

"Mmm. Maybe you do. But maybe part of you wants to know what it's like to let go and let someone else be in charge." Stephen sipped his water. "And I think that part of you is larger than you want to admit."

"No." Tony shook his head.

"It's up to you. I'm not going to force you into anything." Stephen grinned.

"Stephen, I don't even know what you're talking about, not really." Tony took another bite or two of his meal, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't know what it's like to be--well, to be like you, I guess. How can I want something when I don't even know what it is?"

"What's not to know?" Stephen countered. "Either you want someone else to take control of you or you don't."

"That's not--" Tony sighed. "Stephen, I saw you in the apartment, the other night. When Joshua--there was something different about you. I don't know what that is, and I don't think I want to."

Stephen blinked. "Oh," he said slowly. "Oh, I see."

"You do?" Tony was a bit taken aback. "How?"

"I can't explain here." Stephen put his fork down. "And the only way to explain is to show you, at least in part. Relax, I'm not propositioning you," he said, holding up a hand. "But I can show you what you're confused about. If you want."

He shouldn't have, but..."Why not?" he said, feeling like he was getting himself in way over his head.

"I promise it won't hurt." Stephen grinned and Tony had to laugh.

Marc came to clear away their plates; Tony was a little surprised to see he'd eaten almost everything on his. "Coffee or dessert, gentlemen?" Marc asked. "We have some wonderful chocolate mousse cake this evening, and the tiramisu is always an excellent choice."

Tony looked at Stephen. "Do you want anything?" he asked.

Stephen shrugged. "I wouldn't say no to an espresso," he said.

"Add a cappucino to that," Tony told Marc. "And--you like chocolate?"

Stephen laughed. "One piece of cake, two forks."

Marc smiled. "Be right back."

"I'm guessing yes?" Tony said wryly.

"My two weaknesses. Chocolate and coffee." Stephen smiled, a bit sheepishly. "Joshua likes to tease me about it."

"There are worse ones to have," Tony pointed out.

"Mmm. Very true." Stephen smiled at Marc and picked up his espresso. Tony wasn't too surprised to see he drank it black.

The cake, as promised, was wonderful. Light and creamy and rich; Tony watched Stephen lick his fork clean and swore the man was humming in pleasure.

"And I'll take this whenever you're ready," Marc said, setting the bill on the table. Stephen reached for it, but Tony snagged it first.

"I've got it," he said, getting out his wallet. "Really. You bought me dinner last time."

"I was the one who said I'd buy dinner," Stephen argued.

"Call it a rain check." Tony stuck his debit card in the bill and set it on the edge of the table.

The bill taken care of, they left the restaurant, walking back to Stephen's building. Tony's car was parked between Bertucci's and Stephen's place, so he left it where it was and followed Stephen up the stairs.

"Joshua probably won't be home for another hour or two. Roberta--his agent--likes to talk. And I think they were discussing going to the gallery as well." Stephen unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open. "Have a seat on the couch," he said, nodding to the blue sofa by the TV. "It's more comfortable than the kitchen chairs."

Tony took a seat, unsurprised to find it as squashy and comfortable as the armchair. Joshua and Stephen seemed to prefer that sort of thing. The TV, he noted, was an older model, and there was a plant on top of it. "Not much for the boob tube?" he asked, nodding at it.

Stephen laughed, sitting down next to him. "To be honest, I can't remember the last time one of us turned it on."

"What do you do in your spare time, then?"

"I read. Joshua paints, or draws. He reads too--he loves mysteries. Sometimes we go running. We've got a collection of jigsaw puzzles and sometimes we get some friends over for board games." Stephen shrugged. "What did people do before TV?"

"Good point." Tony smiled. It sounded boring to him, but who was he to judge?

"So. You wanted a demonstration or explanation of what you saw?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah. Something like. I guess." Tony shrugged.

Stephen nodded. "I won't hurt you, Tony. I promise you'll be safe, that nothing will happen to you that you don't want and consent to. Okay?"

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay."

"If you feel like it's too much, or that you want it to stop, say red--like the stoplight--and I'll stop."

"Seems like a lot of caution for a demonstration," Tony said, a little warily.

"I promise, it won't be much. I just know it can be scary, the first time." Stephen shifted so he was kneeling on the couch. "Give me your hands."

Tony looked at Stephen's hands, outstretched and waiting for his, and exhaled. "Do I need to take my watch off?" he asked.

Stephen nodded. "It'd be a good idea."

He unfastened the watch and set it down on the table before slowly extending his arms.

Stephen's hands closed around his wrists, thumbs pressing over his pulse. They tightened, a little, and Tony gasped at the spark that ran through him.

"I want you to listen to me, Tony," Stephen said, his voice soft and low and almost hypnotic. "Close your eyes and listen to me, okay?"

He did, reminding himself to breathe.

"Feel my hands around your wrists, Tony, and listen to me. I'm the only thing you need to focus on right now. Okay? All I want you to do is relax and listen. Just relax. You've got nothing to worry about, nothing to think about...just feel my hands on your wrists and listen to my voice. It feels good, doesn't it? Like you're floating somewhere warm and safe. You are safe, Tony. I have you safe. All I want you to do is relax."

As he spoke, Stephen's thumbs brushed over the inside of Tony's wrists, stroking over his pulse. Tony shuddered; between Stephen's hold on his wrists and Stephen's voice, he felt...he didn't know how he felt, only that the world was falling away and Stephen was the only thing left in it, the only thing he could hold to.

It felt...good. It felt like he didn't need to care or worry about anything, except Stephen, but--

He pulled back a little, trying to think, to clear his head, because this couldn't be right, and Stephen's hands tightened and Tony panicked. "Red," he gasped out.

Immediately, Stephen let him go. He didn't say anything, he didn't move, he just...waited, Tony realized.

"I--" Tony shook his head. "What was that?"

"Subspace," Stephen said matter-of-factly. "It's kind of like an altered state of consciousness, where the only thing that matters is your Dom. You were there, Tony. I saw it. Did it scare you?"

He rubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah," he muttered. "It felt--I liked it, but--"

"But you tried to think," Stephen finished. "And it scared you."

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "You can't think in subspace?"

"Not past what your Dom's telling you to do, no." Stephen shrugged. "That's kind of the point."

"I don't know if it's for me," Tony told him.

Instead of answering, Stephen sat back on the couch and stretched his legs a bit. "Before you started thinking, what did it feel like?" he asked.

"It felt..." Tony sighed. "Like everything else didn't exist. Or was ceasing to exist. Except...you."

"And did you like that?" Stephen's voice was simple, matter-of-fact; there was no judgment or condemnation in it at all.

"I--" He wanted to say no, but truth was..."I did."

"It's up to you whether or not you decide it's for you, Tony. But what you felt--that's only the barest hint of what it can be. And if you liked that, I can pretty much guarantee that you'd like the rest."

"I don't..." Tony sighed. "You have a way of turning my world on its head, you know that? None of this is supposed to make sense."

Stephen smiled. "When Joshua and I started dating, everyone thought we were insane. His friends thought I was too straitlaced for him. My family thought he was too impulsive and flighty for me. Mama had a long talk with me about being careful that he wasn't just using me because I had a steady income. After the first month, his friends decided it was just about sex. It didn't make sense to any of them. Hell, it barely made sense to us."

"When did it start making sense?" Tony asked.

"When it does, I'll let you know." Stephen grinned. "Life doesn't make sense, Tony. I'd think that as a federal agent, you'd know that."

"I do. But this...this is different. I mean--didn't you think so? When you started?"

"Not really, no. I was eighteen, a freshman at Columbia--I went there for my bachelor's and my master's in architecture--and I'd been fascinated by the idea since I was a teenager. The whole concept of control, of that fluid dynamic, of giving it up and getting it back--well." Stephen shrugged and pulled his legs up under him. "It was just something I'd always been drawn to. So I started dating, a bit, and I found a guy who knew a little, and...it went from there. And Joshua--he's a natural top. Always has been. I think he tried bottoming once."

"I can't imagine that went well," Tony said dryly, earning himself a laugh from Stephen.

"No. No, it didn't." Stephen toyed with a lock of hair. "Some people are naturally drawn to the lifestyle, others start reading and find it's something they enjoy. Some are happy without it. And some don't think about it until it becomes impossible to ignore."

"So...what do I do now?" Tony asked.

"Well, you can ignore me and everything I've said and go your merry way. Or you can come hang out with me and Joshua one night--there's this club we go to sometimes. Fetishistic, but nothing too hard-core. It'd give you a chance to talk to people who aren't me or Joshua."

Tony nodded slowly. "I might--that'd be cool." A thought popped into his head and he laughed.

"Care to share the joke?" Stephen asked curiously.

"I have a friend at work--our forensics specialist. She's into this stuff too. Not as hard-core as you and Joshua are, I don't think--the recordings bothered her. But...I mean, she wears dog collars and chain-link belts. And a lot of black."

"It's definitely possible. You want to bring her along?" Stephen asked.

"Would that be okay? I mean--I think she'd really like you guys."

"Sure." Stephen grinned. "Might make it easier on you, too."

"Might indeed." Tony ran a hand through his hair.

They both looked up when the door swung open and Joshua all-but-bounded inside. "Stephen, babe! I have fantastic news!"

"Over here, Joshua," Stephen called. "Tony and I were talking."

"Oh! Hey, Tony." Joshua swung himself over the back of the couch and dropped down on it. "I talked to Roberta, the goddess of my life, and she says that the showing next month could lead to some very good things--and! She says she may have found a buyer for the Passions series. All five pieces."

"That's fantastic!" Stephen's face lit up with a smile and he leaned forward to kiss Joshua. "What's the price?"

"She's asking nine for the set, more if the buyer only wants individual pieces."

"Nine..." Tony said curiously.

Joshua turned to him. "Thousand." He grabbed Tony's shoulders and gave him a hard kiss on the mouth. "And for a starving artist like me, that's incredible!"

Tony laughed. "I'll get going, then. Leave you two to celebrate." He stood, stretching. "Thanks, Stephen. For everything."

Stephen got up as well. "I'll walk you to the door."

"Oh--let me give you my cell," Tony said as they headed to the front door. "It's safer than work."

"Sure." Stephen handed him a pen and little pad of paper and Tony scribbled down his number. "I'll call you when we set something up," he said. "Okay?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah. That'd be good."

Stephen leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "Have a good night, Tony."

"You too."

"Oh, I will." Stephen laughed, glancing back at Joshua. "When he's in a mood like this...well."

"I don't think I want to know." Tony shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Call me, I guess."

"I will."

As he headed down the stairs, Tony thought that his life hadn't gotten turned on its head so much as it had gotten turned upside down, shaken, and put right side up--facing ninety degrees from where it had been. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

He shrugged and dug out his keys. Only one thing he could do now, really. Just go with the flow.

Tony just hoped he wouldn't drown.

"You're sure I look okay?" Tony asked again, adjusting the collar of his black silk shirt.

Abby rolled her eyes. "For the millionth time, Tony, you look fine. Now when are we meeting these friends of yours?"

"We're picking them up in twenty minutes. Which means we have to leave now." Tony grabbed his keys and held out his arm for Abby; she laughed and took it, kicking up the hem of her long black skirt as they went.

Tony wondered if Gibbs would kill him for admiring the way Abby looked in the white linen blouse and black and purple corset that went with it. The way she was dressed...he couldn't not look. Her breasts were there, and--right. Car. Time to go.

They slid into the car and wound their ways through the streets of DC to park in front of Joshua and Stephen's building. "You want to come up?"

"Absolutely." She got out of the car and skipped up the stairs next to him. For once, Tony didn't hear music.

He knocked, waited a moment or two, and was about to knock again when the door swung open. "Tony! Hey!" Joshua pulled him into an impromptu hug. "C'mon in. Stephen's on the phone--Ruth called, and he doesn't get to talk to her much, so...and this must be Abby, right?"

She laughed. "And you're Joshua?"

"Guilty as charged." Joshua grinned, then winced. "I shouldn't say that to feds, should I? Especially given--well, anyway. Yes, I'm Joshua, and even for a confirmed gay man such as myself, Abby, I have to say that you look stunning. That corset is gorgeous!"

"Thank you! I have a friend who designs them." Abby curtsied.

Joshua glanced back into the apartment. "You guys want something to drink? We've got water, Stephen's sludge--"

"He drinks Gibbs-strength coffee," Tony translated.

"And some juice, or I could make tea."

Stephen wandered by, dressed in pure black from head to toe; he had a cordless phone pressed against one ear. He waved at them, listening for a moment before continuing his conversation--apparently in Hebrew.

"You'd think Hebrew would be more dangerous than English over there, but what do I know?" Joshua shrugged. He wore a deep blue shirt with vertical white chalk stripes and faded jeans, but his feet were bare. And for once, Tony noticed, he didn't have paint in his hair.

"Where's 'there'?" Abby asked curiously.

"Iraq. She's a photojournalist." Joshua grimaced. "Currently the black sheep of Stephen's family, thus saving him from the title. Not only is he gay, you see, but he's shacked up with an artist--and in a family where the other respective spouses are two lawyers and a professor, that's a definite no-no."

"I can imagine." Abby grinned. "But I bet you're more fun."

He laughed. "Depends on who you talk to, darling."

Abby turned around, looking at the apartment. Her eyes went wide and she stopped, staring at the bed. "Wow," she said, shaking her head. "I saw it on the--well, sorry about that, but--it's still amazing to see this in reality." She shivered, walking over to it. "How much did it cost? How long have you had it?"

"We got it at cost, so it wasn't that bad," Joshua said, following her. "And we've had it..." He turned to Stephen, who was just hanging up the phone. "Babe, how long have we had this?"

"Eight months, give or take," Stephen answered, walking over to them. "Sorry about that, guys--I don't get to talk to Ruth much. You look good, Tony."

"Thank you. And this is Abby."

She grinned. "That's me. Hi!" She held out a hand and Stephen took it, returning her grin. "I love your hair," she said. "And your bed is...something else."

"The hair's mine. I can tell you where to get the bed if you want one." Stephen smiled and turned to Joshua, brushing off his shirt.

"No room in my current place, plus I'm not that hard-core, but maybe in future." Abby shrugged. "You never know."

"No, and Stephen, I do know how to dress myself," Joshua said, pushing away his hands. "See? I even picked clothes with no paint on them."

"I laid out your clothes," Stephen reminded him.

"Did you really?" Joshua blinked. "When did you do that?"

"When you were in the shower." Stephen patted him on the shoulder. "It's the paint fumes."

Joshua glared at him. "You do realize where we're going tonight, don't you?" he said evenly.

"Yes, I do." Stephen smiled at him blandly.

"And you do realize that it wouldn't be at all out of place or even out of character for me to drop you, don't you?"

Stephen just raised a brow. "But we have guests," he pointed out.

"Are they always like this?" Abby asked Tony in an undertone.

He nodded. "Pretty much."

She grinned. "I love your friends."

"Abby, you normally hate my friends."

"Well, yeah, that's because you normally have boring friends. These two? They're cool."

"Push it any further and I will drop you, Stephen," Joshua warned him.

"Or you'll try." Stephen smiled and turned to get his shoes.

Joshua's hand tangled in his hair, pulling him back. "Enough," he said, voice low. "I don't know what Ruth said and I don't know what's going on with her, but we have friends here and I'm not spending the night dealing with you pushing me in front of them. Understand?"

Stephen's eyes closed and he swallowed, once. "Yes," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Joshua let him go. "Do you need to stay down?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Tony was surprised to see Stephen hesitate before shaking his head. "No," he said, running a hand through his hair. "No. I'm fine. I'll--I'll let you know."

"I'll probably know before you will," Joshua said wryly.

"Wow," Abby murmured. "Talk about power play."

"It doesn't bother you?" Tony asked her sotto voce.

"God, no. It's insanely hot, not to mention incredibly cool to witness. I mean...wow." She shook her head.

"Sorry about that," Stephen apologized, looking at Tony and Abby. "I--" He sighed. "My sister's in a fairly dangerous part of Iraq now, and...the rest of the family's putting a lot of pressure on her to come home, which means I get to be the shoulder to vent on."

"Sounds tough," Abby said sympathetically. "And can I just say how cool that was?"

Joshua grinned. "Thanks, I think."

"Tony mentioned you weren't vanilla," Stephen added, a bit more composed. "Do you mind if I ask which way you go?"

"Not at all. I switch, and I don't really have a pref. I mean, normally I sub, but I don't mind topping given the chance, although I do better topping women than men." Abby shrugged.

Tony stared at her. "Since when did you go both ways?"

She looked at him. "You didn't know I did?"

"Um, no?"

Stephen laughed. "And I'll bet you didn't know he did either."

Abby waved a hand. "Of course I knew. He pinged my bi-dar the day I met him. No straight man spends that much on clothes."

"I know straight men who do!" Tony protested.

Both Stephen and Abby looked at him. "Denial," they chorused.

"This is going to be an interesting night," Joshua said, looking between the two of them. "Stephen, where are my shoes?"

"On the shoe rack, where they're supposed to be," Stephen told him.

"That's why I couldn't find them." Joshua went over to the shoe rack and pulled on a pair of blue tennis shoes. "So," he said cheerfully. "We ready to go?"

*****
The club was kind of neat, Tony admitted. Long bar against one wall, tables and booths around the main floor. There was a dance floor, but it was pretty empty. And there was a raised platform he didn't understand.

"Performance stage," Stephen said quietly, nodding at it. "You can reserve it in advance, or use it when you show up if no one's booked it. There are a couple of other rooms for smaller shows as well."

"Have you ever used it?" Tony asked.

Stephen smiled and shook his head. "Neither Joshua nor I are into exhibitionism. As I'm sure you already knew."

Tony grimaced. "Yeah, well. Do people use it often?"

"On the weekends, there's generally a show every night, and during the week...it depends." Stephen shrugged and slid into the curved booth. Tony slid in next to him, and Abby took the seat across from him, on Joshua's right. "The smaller stages are more popular. Not too many people can handle--or want to handle--the main stage."

"I'll get us drinks," Joshua said, and Abby slid out of the booth. "Tony?"

"Just water, thanks," he said.

"I know what you want," Joshua said to Stephen. "Abby?"

"They have Red Bull here?"

"Be right back." Joshua headed to the bar, chatting with the really tall redheaded bartender.

"It's not as full now," Stephen said. "But by ten, this place will be packed. I checked with Nicolas--that's the owner--and he said no one had reserved the main stage for tonight."

Tony had to admit, he was relieved. He wasn't sure he wanted to see that. As he looked around, he saw people in various combinations of leather and metal, some coming perilously close to public nudity. Some were dressed like Joshua, and he saw two women come in who looked similar to Abby. One was holding a leash, attached to the collar of a man walking behind her.

"It's mostly just a place for people to hang out and relax. They'll turn up the music when it gets more crowded, try to get people on the dance floor. But there aren't too many places those of us in the lifestyle can go to hang out and relax with others." Stephen shrugged. "This is normal, Tony. Or...mostly normal."

"We're normal now?" Joshua asked, returning with a bottle of water, a can of Red Bull, and two bottles of juice. He slid one across the sleek black table to Stephen and kept one for himself.

"You'll never be normal," a woman's voice said teasingly. Tony turned and saw a tiny woman--five feet, max--standing by their table. She had the dusky skin and features of a Filipina, and her long dark hair streamed down the back of her midriff-baring tank top. With it, she wore faded low-rise jeans and a chain-link belt, fastened with a padlock. The loose end of the chain hung down her left hip, almost to her knee. She had wide leather cuffs around each wrist, laced tightly.

"He won't, no. I can at least pass." Stephen grinned. "Jill, these are our friends Tony and Abby. Tony, Abby, this is Jill, the manager. Her husband Ewan's the bartender."

Tony looked back at Ewan--probably six-six, maybe more--and looked at Jill again. "Yes," she said dryly. "I'm four-eleven and he's six-five. And yes, we're married." She smiled and held out her hand. "Pleasure to meet you," she said, shaking hands with both of them.

"Jill's living proof that you don't have to be tall--or built--to be a good top," Stephen said with a smile. "She's Ewan's Mistress as well as his wife."

Tony shook his head. "Wow," he said.

Jill's smile sharpened a bit. "New here, Tony?"

"Yeah." He looked at her--even sitting, he barely had to look up. "That obvious?"

She laughed and leaned in, trailing a finger up his throat. "You're in good company," she said softly, silkily. "But if you're interested in more of a hands-on demonstration..." Her nail scraped a line back down, tracing the tendon. Her perfume was subtle, heady, and Tony swallowed hard, trying not to react too visibly.

"Jill," Joshua said sharply. "Back off."

She straightened up slowly. "I'm just making the boy an offer," she said sweetly.

"He's not interested."

"How do you know?" Jill asked with a feline smile.

Joshua met her eyes steadily. "Because he's mine for the night. And I'm telling you he's not interested."

Tony thought briefly of kissing Joshua out of gratitude.

"And her?" Jill asked lightly, running her fingers over Abby's hair. "Is she yours too?"

Abby looked up. "No," she said softly. "I'm a free agent."

"Mmm." Jill stroked her fingers down Abby's cheek. "Pretty girl," she murmured. "Come find me later if you like."

Abby's eyes were wide; she nodded. "I will," she said, and Tony had never heard her sound that submissive in his life.

"Jill..." Joshua warned her. "Enough."

Jill shrugged carelessly. "I'll be around if you need me." She blew Tony a kiss and walked off, hips swinging. Tony watched her go and decided two things: One, that she was tiny, but built. And two, that she was damned scary.

Stephen blew out a breath. "Jill...comes on strong," he said carefully. "She lives the lifestyle, she works it, and sometimes she forgets not everyone else does as well."

"I got that impression." Tony twisted the cap off his water bottle and took a long drink, trying to settle his nerves.

"Open marriage?" Abby asked curiously. Her voice was back to normal, Tony noticed gratefully, although her face was still a bit flushed.

"Yeah." Stephen sipped his juice. "Somewhat, although they've settled down a bit since Nina was born. She's their daughter," he explained. "Two years old and the spitting image of her mother. Ewan's going to be in trouble when she gets older."

"If she's anything like her mother, I'd say so," Tony said with a shake of his head.

Joshua laughed. "So would I."

"Do you come here often? I mean, if you know Jill and Ewan that well?" Abby asked.

"We come a few times a month, when we can. But I built the place." Stephen grinned. "Not all my commissions come through my office."

"Built?" Tony blinked. "The building doesn't look that new."

"It's not, no. I worked with Nicolas--the owner--on remodeling and rebuilding it from the inside out." Stephen took a drink of juice, looking around. "It's the third club I've worked on. There's another one in DC I did, and one in Philly."

"In exchange for the work, Nicolas gave us free membership--well, in addition to paying Stephen, of course." Joshua grinned. "It worked out well."

"I'd say so," Tony said, looking around. "Nice job."

"A lot of this is thanks to the decorating, and I had nothing to do with that. I just helped him design it."

"You did your apartment as well, right?" Tony asked. "I mean, I'm guessing."

Stephen grinned. "Yeah. The one apartment wasn't big enough, so we talked to the owner and got approval to remodel. And pretty much wherever we could take down interior walls, with the exceptions of the bathrooms, we did."

"Why not just move somewhere else?" Abby asked.

"Light." Joshua grinned. "That apartment gets great natural light. It's almost impossible to find a place in this area that has it. I lucked out."

"Never argue with an artist about light," Stephen added wryly. "You'll lose."

"Don't argue with me about most things," Joshua teased. "You'll lose."

"Oh?" Stephen raised a brow. "I seem to recall differently. In fact, weren't you the one who said it was hard to win an argument with me outside of bed?"

"Hard, but not impossible," Joshua countered.

"Well, no. Nothing's impossible. Some things are just more unlikely than others."

"Are they at it again?" an amused male voice said on Tony's left. He turned, looking up to see a tall, lanky blond standing there, dressed in tight black jeans and a black T-shirt that glittered when he moved. He wore a silver ring on the middle finger of his left hand and there was an emerald stud in his left ear. "Hi," he said cheerfully. "I'm David."

Tony shook the man's hand. "I'm Tony," he said.

"And I'm Abby." She grinned. "I'm guessing you know these two?"

"From way back." David grinned and rocked back on his heels. "Stephen was one of my first friends in DC."

"There aren't too many kinky gay Jewish men in the area, at least that I've found," Stephen said, laughing. "Tony, would you let me out?"

"Oh--sure." Tony slid out of the booth, standing to let Stephen out. He noticed that David was just about his height, maybe half an inch or so taller.

"I didn't think you were in town," Stephen said, leaning up to kiss David on the cheek.

"Got back last night. Thought I'd come by and relax, see if anyone was performing. Alas, no, and I'm destined to be disappointed with you two." To Tony's surprise, David wrapped an arm around Stephen's waist and kissed him slowly. "Room for one more in the booth?"

Tony was even more surprised to see the amused, tolerant look on Joshua's face. "For you, always," he said. "Come, have a seat."

David ended up on the outside, putting Tony between him and Stephen. "How was the tour?" Stephen asked.

"Long. Tiring. And as much as I love my group, I never want to see them again." David groaned. "Until rehearsal tomorrow."

"Rehearsal?" Tony asked.

"I'm a musician. Clarinetist. I perform with the Baltimore Symphony and a chamber group--well, wind quintet. The group just got back from a tour of the Northeast--Pennsylvania, Jersey, New York, Delaware, and I don't remember if we hit Massachusetts in there or not. It all kind of blurred together after a while." David rubbed a hand over his face. "And now I'm back to the symphony."

"What he's not telling you is that he's the first clarinetist of the quintet and the second clarinetist of the symphony," Stephen added.

"You don't look old enough for that," Abby said cheerfully.

David laughed. "I'm older than I look. Or you can call me a prodigy, if you like."

"I'd call you other things, but apparently you're gay."

"Beyond hope, yes." David winked at her. "Ask Stephen."

"Trust me, Abby, it's for the good of all gay men to have him on our side." Stephen grinned.

Tony thought that he hadn't seen Stephen this relaxed with anyone before, even Amy and Paul. It was interesting, to say the least. And there was a vibe between them--but wait. If they'd been lovers, why would Joshua be so relaxed?

Unless he didn't consider David a threat, Tony thought.

"And the loss of all women, I'm guessing." She sighed. "Were you two involved or something?"

"For about two months," Stephen confirmed; David started laughing. "Then we realized we were hopeless."

"I think you turned to me in the middle of sex and said 'This just isn't working, is it?'" David got out, still laughing.

Stephen snickered. "And you said 'No. Want to go get Chinese?'"

"And that was the end of a relationship that should never have been and the beginning of a beautiful friendship." David wiped his eyes with his forearm. "So what are you doing here?"

It took Tony a moment to realize the question was aimed at him. "Oh," he said in surprise. "I...well, I don't know." He looked at Stephen, a little helplessly.

"Tony's learning about the lifestyle," Stephen said smoothly. "He's not really certain of a lot of things, so I invited him out with us for the evening."

"Mmm. This is a good place to come for that. And you, Abby?" David asked.

"I came along for moral support. And to see what it's like here." She grinned at him. "I love the eye candy."

"Can't blame you there." David grinned back. "I do too." He turned, giving Tony a very deliberate once-over.

Tony took a swallow of water, drinking a little too fast. But--oh, what the hell? "I can see your point," he said, returning the look.

Truth be told, he could. David was attractive, with wavy blond hair, green eyes, and a lean runner's build. And being friends with Stephen was an automatic plus. Question was, did he play, and which way did he go, and why the fuck was Tony thinking about this anyway?

David laughed and clapped Tony on the back. "I like you," he said.

"Ah--thank you." Tony grinned a bit sheepishly. He looked around the club, a little surprised when he saw how full it was.

"Should be starting the music any time now," David commented. "Jill likes to wait until it's fairly crowded, or until she's sure she's not getting a performer."

As if on cue, the music began, a deep bass beat pulsing through the club, the song one Tony didn't recognize. People began to get up, moving to the floor, either by themselves or in pairs or groups. Abby watched them, practically bouncing in her seat, before sliding out of the booth. "Who's dancing with me?" she demanded.

Joshua laughed and stood up. "I will." He took the hand she offered and followed her to the dance floor, where they were swallowed up by the mass of people.

David watched them for a moment before laughing and getting up as well. "I've been on the road for almost three weeks," he said cheerfully. "I need to move!" He waved at Tony and Stephen before heading for the floor.

Alone in the booth, Tony figured he could ask. "I'm a little surprised Joshua--"

"Doesn't mind David?" Stephen finished. "David was my last lover, before Joshua. He's a close friend--probably the closest one I have, outside of Joshua and my family. And there is absolutely nothing between us. There never really was, but we thought otherwise for a little while."

"Gotcha." Tony drank some more water, watching people dance.

"He's a top," Stephen added. "A good one. He doesn't play as hard as I do. Then again, most people don't."

"I got that impression," Tony said dryly.

Stephen just laughed, unoffended. "If you're interested in a hands-on exploration, you can't do much better than David. And from the look he gave you, he'd love to explore."

"Do you play matchmaker often?" Tony asked, not sure whether to be amused or exasperated.

"Hardly ever. I'm not even trying to do it now. Just giving you a piece of advice." Stephen smiled and finished his juice.

"Thanks. I think." Tony capped his water bottle, and for a while they just sat and watched the dance floor.

It was nice, to just watch. Relaxing. The trappings were different, and Tony was pretty sure he wasn't going to find people on their knees wearing a collar and a leash at a regular club, but a lot of it was still pretty much the same. He saw Abby dancing with some random people, and he caught glimpses of Joshua and David as well; they looked to be having a good time, although they weren't dancing with each other.

"We're not that different," Stephen said, as if echoing Tony's thoughts. "Not in a lot of ways."

"I really wish I knew how you read my mind," Tony said wryly. "You're as bad as my boss."

"It's not that hard to do when you're looking around like that." Stephen grinned. "And I'm not sure whether to be flattered or wary that you're comparing me to your boss. He's about as scary as Jill."

"He didn't seem to get much reaction out of you in interrogation," Tony pointed out--and immediately kicked himself for bringing it up.

"Joshua would have told you otherwise." Stephen laughed. "I exploded at him after. And you really don't ever want to face my temper."

"It's worse than mine," Joshua confirmed, sliding into the booth. "C'mon, babe. Let's dance."

Stephen groaned. "Joshua, I thought you said you weren't going to drag me on the floor."

"I'm not dragging. I'm...encouraging. Strongly." Joshua grinned and kissed Stephen's cheek. "Please?"

David came over, laughing. "Come on, Stephen. I haven't gotten to dance with you in months."

"I haven't seen you in months," Stephen pointed out.

"Exactly. C'mon."

"Do you hate to dance or something?" Tony asked.

"No, he loves it. And he's good at it." Joshua stood up again. "That's why he doesn't want to dance in public."

"I don't get it." Tony shook his head.

"Neither do I. C'mon, babe." Joshua held out a hand. "I promise I'll behave, even."

"You never behave," Stephen told him.

"I'll try?" Joshua gave him a little-boy grin.

The music changed then, and while Tony didn't recognize it, Stephen apparently did. "Oh, you bastard," he swore at Joshua. "You--"

"I play dirty." Joshua grinned. "Come dance with me."

Stephen groaned, but slid out of the booth.

"What's with the music?" Tony asked David.

"It's kind of their song. Care to dance?" David asked. "I promise I won't bite unless you ask."

You can't do much better than David. "Sure," Tony said, getting up. To his surprise, David took his hand, lacing his fingers through Tony's.

"I like you," David said as they walked to the floor. "And you've got Stephen's stamp of approval, which is not easily given. So I'd rather not let you get away before I have a chance to get to know you better."

"You barely know me," Tony pointed out. "How can you like me already?"

"I'm a good judge of people." David laughed and pulled Tony onto the dance floor. "And as I said. Stephen likes you."

"Do you know how we met?" Tony asked, beginning to let himself move to the music.

David shook his head. "I've been out of town."

"I'd recommend asking him. It'll be...an interesting story." Tony wondered just what Stephen would say.

"I'll do that. But I'd rather dance with you. Especially given that." David nodded over to his left and Tony turned his head, looking at Stephen and Joshua dancing, pressed so close against each other they looked like one person in the shadow of the crowd. Stephen shook his hair back, leaning back, and Tony saw him laughing. "They'll be on the floor for hours," David said, watching. "I hope you weren't planning on going home early."

"Gonna give me a reason to stay?" Tony asked David teasingly.

"I'd love to." David's hands slid down Tony's back, settling on his hips. "Absolutely love to." He pulled Tony closer against him, even as his hands moved down to Tony's ass. "We can talk later."

Tony rested his own hands on David's waist. "I like that idea."

Dancing with David was fun; he was an excellent dancer--Tony supposed that given his profession, it wasn't too surprising. He also liked to stay in contact with Tony, whether his hands were on Tony's hips, his ass, his shoulders, or anywhere else. Tony had to admit, he liked it; he hadn't gone clubbing in a long time and he'd missed this, the sheer fun of being on the floor with someone else, surrounded by the crowd, music pounding and lights flashing.

But eventually he needed a break--and some water. He tugged David off the dance floor, heading for the bar. David laughed and followed, sliding onto a stool and pulling Tony back against him. "Hey, Ewan," he said cheerfully. "Two waters please?"

Ewan--whose coppery red hair was matched by fair skin and bright green eyes--nodded and slid two bottles across the bar to them. "Having fun, you two?" he asked.

Tony twisted the cap off his bottle. "Yeah," he said, looking up at David. "You?"

"Oh yeah." David opened his water, drinking deeply. "How's it going over here?"

"It's a good night." Ewan smiled, looking out over the club. "Definitely a good night. Busy, but aren't they all?"

"Not too busy to give your wife a kiss, are you?" Jill purred, sliding onto a stool. She leaned over and hooked a finger through the ring in Ewan's collar, pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.

"Never too busy for my Mistress," Ewan said softly, kissing her hand as he pulled back.

She laughed and turned to face Tony and David. "He's such a sweetheart. Having a good night, boys?"

David's hand tightened on Tony's shoulder. "Just fine, Jill."

Jill gave him an amused look. "Relax, David. I don't poach. And it's been made very clear to me that your boy is off-limits."

"Good," David said evenly.

"I will say this much," she said, getting off her stool. "You've got excellent taste." She patted Tony on the cheek--she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. "Bring him by sometime. We'll save a stage for you."

She blew Ewan a kiss and headed off again.

Ewan shook his head. "She's in rare form tonight."

"Any idea why?" Tony asked, trying not to watch Jill's ass under her jeans.

"I've been married to her for five years, she's the mother of my child, my Mistress, and her mind is still a mystery to me, most of the time." Ewan grinned and moved down the bar to serve a couple people before coming back.

Tony turned around to look up at David. "First Joshua claims me for the night, then you. I'm beginning to feel like a kid's toy here, or the last piece of candy in the bowl."

"Mmm. Candy." David cupped Tony's face in his hands. "I never could resist candy," he said with a grin.

As first kisses went, it was--whoa. Hot and sweet and potent and David was very, very definitely in charge, even with just his hands on Tony's face. They were both a little breathless when David pulled back. Tony felt more than a little dazed.

"You okay?" David asked softly, stroking Tony's cheekbone with his thumb.

Tony took a deep breath. "Yeah," he said, voice a little more unsteady than he'd wanted it to be. "I'm...whoa. Yeah."

David laughed. "God, you're hot," he said, his hands still on Tony's face, thumbs caressing his skin. "So sweet."

"Um--" Tony pulled David's hands away. "I haven't--"

"With men? Or with kink?" David interrupted.

"The--the second one." Tony hoped the flush in his face could be attributed to the kiss. "I'm still new to all this."

"Mmm." David smiled and linked his hands together behind Tony's neck. "I'll have fun teaching you."

And maybe he would, and Tony couldn't imagine a reason for him to say no, but David's matter-of-fact assumption..."That's assuming I say yes," he said.

David grinned. "Gonna say no?"

"You going to let me think about it?" Tony countered.

"Don't push him, David," Ewan said mildly. "If Jill has to behave, so do you."

Tony winced. "No offense, Ewan, but your wife scares me."

"Most people with any sense are scared of my wife. And that includes me." Ewan grinned and moved down the bar.

"Whew!" Joshua came over to them, draping an arm around each of them. "Having fun, boys?" He grinned, hugging them before stepping back. "I need a break and something to drink."

"What about your other half?" Tony asked.

Joshua laughed. "Take a look." He gestured expansively and Tony looked at the dance floor to see Stephen surrounded by people, apparently oblivious to anything but the music. "He doesn't get off the floor once I get him on the floor, and he's damned good, so everyone wants to dance with him. I think it's the yoga." Joshua laughed again. "Hey, Ewan, can I--" A bottle of juice sailed down the bar and Joshua caught it neatly. "Thanks!"

Ewan grinned. "Sure I can't tempt you?"

Tony was surprised to see Joshua's face go--well--he didn't really have a name for it. "I've told you before," Joshua said. "I don't share." He opened his bottle, drinking. "How many times are you going to ask?"

"Don't blame me, blame my wife," Ewan said cheerfully, apparently unaffected by the cool power in Joshua's voice. "Do you know how much she'd give to get you two on the stage?"

"Not going to happen, Ewan." Joshua took another drink, looking between Tony and David. "And I've interrupted something here. Tony, if you want, we'll find our own way home. Just let me know."

"Not Stephen?" Tony asked.

Joshua grinned. "No."

Tony blinked, watching Joshua toss the empty bottle into the trash and walk back to the dance floor.

"Joshua's going to drop him," David said quietly. "It's the main reason Stephen doesn't get on the floor. He loves to dance, and he doesn't care who he dances with, once he's into it."

"But Joshua does."

"Stephen's his," David said simply. "And like you just heard--Joshua doesn't share. Watch."

There was a little bit of space around them now. Tony watched Joshua curl his hand around Stephen's neck, watched him lean in close and whisper something before kissing Stephen, hard.

And-- "Oh my God," Tony managed, watching Stephen just...slide down Joshua's body, kneeling in front of him.

David grinned. "They're something else."

"And you--are you--"

"I'm not as hard-core as them," David said easily. "And I'm nowhere near as possessive as Joshua. I still don't share, but not to that extent." He traced the line of Tony's jaw. "I don't care who you dance with, just who you sub for."

"I don't sub for anyone right now," Tony managed, even though he felt more than a little lightheaded.

"Mmm." David kissed him again, lightly. "Sure about that?" His fingers ghosted over Tony's throat. "I won't hurt you, Tony," he murmured. "I'll take care of you."

Tony wanted to believe him. "I...you know, Stephen showed me? A little, I mean. Freaked me out." He grinned sheepishly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this."

"Freaked you out because you liked it?" David laughed. "Me too, my first time. And you should have seen me the first time I tried topping someone."

"Didn't go so well?" Tony asked.

"Not so much, no." David shrugged. "If you're not interested, it's cool. If you are...so am I." He winked and turned back to watch the dance floor.

Stephen wasn't on his knees anymore; his back was pressed against Joshua's chest, Joshua's hands over Stephen's on Stephen's thighs. His head was back against Joshua's shoulder, and his eyes were closed.

Tony watched them move to the music, suddenly overcome by a wave of longing. What they had was something--God, he wanted it. And he didn't know if it was the kink or the sheer love he saw between them, or both, but he wanted it.

"Supposing I'm interested," he said to David. "What then?"

David smiled. "Come home with me, and I'll show you."

"I can't--Stephen and Joshua came with me, and Abby." Tony grimaced. "I--"

"Stephen and Joshua will get themselves home. Trust me on that one. Actually...I think they might be leaving," David said, blinking. "Something must be bothering one of them, because normally they'd stay all night."

"I think it's Stephen's sister," Tony said. "He was talking to her before."

"That'd do it." David fell silent as Joshua and Stephen walked over to them.

"We're getting out of here," Joshua said with an easy grin. "It's an easy ride on the Metro. Or we'll call a cab. Either way, we're cool." He clapped David on the shoulder and gave Tony a half-hug. "Take care of this one," he told David. "He's a good guy."

"Okay for me to say goodbye to him?" David asked Joshua. Tony blinked in amazement. Okay to say goodbye?

Joshua looked at Stephen, then nodded, stroking Stephen's hair back. "Come on up a bit, babe," he said quietly. "Just to say goodbye. Okay?"

Stephen nodded. "Yes, Joshua."

Tony stared at him. This...this was nothing like the man he'd met and talked to. This...

"Take it easy, okay? I'm around if you need a shoulder." David hugged Stephen like there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'll remember." Stephen hugged him back. "Take care, Tony. I'll see you around." He hugged Tony briefly.

"Ah--yeah. You too." Tony grinned.

"You ready to go?" Joshua asked Stephen, resting his hand on Stephen's back.

Stephen nodded. "Just...get me home," he said quietly, leaning into Joshua.

"I will, babe. Come on." Joshua kissed the top of Stephen's head and they left.

"What..." Tony stared after them.

David blew out a breath. "Something's really bothering Stephen. I've seen him stay down before. Hell, I've seen them spend the night here with him down like that, but...for him to want to get home that badly means something's bothering him, and he needs Joshua."

Tony shook his head, remembering some of the harder scenes on the recordings. "I don't want to know," he said fervently.

"No, you probably don't." David smiled faintly. "So where's your other friend?"

"I--you know, I don't know. I saw her on the dance floor a while back, but...I haven't seen her in a while." Tony looked around, but he didn't see Abby.

"She'll turn up." David grinned. "So. You have to take her home."

"No, to my place. She left her car there."

David smiled and ran a finger up Tony's neck. "So instead of me taking you home, how about you take me home? I didn't drive."

"I...could do that," Tony said slowly.

"Do you want to?" David asked simply. "I won't do anything you don't want, Tony."

"Would I lose insane amounts of masculine points to admit that I'm kind of nervous?" Tony asked sheepishly.

David laughed. "No, and even if you did, I promise I wouldn't tell." He kissed Tony again, drawing him closer. "You've got nothing to be nervous about," he murmured in Tony's ear. "I'll take good care of you, Tony. I'll give you what you want." His tongue flicked over Tony's earlobe. "Promise." He kissed the spot right behind Tony's jaw, lips tracing a path back to Tony's mouth. "I've got you," he whispered, right before he kissed Tony again.

Tony groaned and fell into the kiss, hands on David's arms for balance, vaguely aware that one of David's hands was around the back of his neck and the other was on his face, holding him close. It was...amazing.

"Just relax," David breathed against his lips. "You don't have to worry about a thing. I've got you."

He swayed a little, grateful for David's support. "That's it, Tony," David praised him. "See how easy it is?"

Tony nodded; his head felt light, but his body felt heavy, limbs relaxed and full of lassitude. He sighed, letting David draw him in closer, stroking his hair and his face. David kept murmuring to him, praising him, and always, always touching him.

He had no idea why this had scared him before. It felt so...good now. Almost natural.

Abby skipped up to them, looking at both Tony and David before bouncing in glee. "So cute," she said, grinning. "Isn't he adorable?"

Tony had no idea whether she was speaking to him and didn't really care. David laughed and pressed a kiss to Tony's hair. "So sweet," he said affectionately.

"Where'd the power play boys go?" she asked, looking around.

"They left," David told her. "I'm thinking Stephen had something on his mind he couldn't bury entirely."

Abby grimaced. "He didn't seem to, when we came here. But something was bothering him before we left."

"Stephen tends to worry things over in his mind. Odds are this one wouldn't stay quiet and Joshua noticed." David shrugged. "They'll be fine."

"Cool." Abby nodded. "Well, if you two would like to go, I'm cool with that. I mean, I'm having a blast, but Tony here looks...well." She grinned. "He's so cute!"

Tony roused enough to make a face at her. "Are we leaving?" he asked, looking at both of them.

"I think so." David stroked the side of his face. "You okay to drive?"

"Oh yeah." Tony grinned and shook his head, feeling the light-headedness dissipate. "No one drives my baby but me."

"Got it." David grinned and slid off his stool. "Just like no one touches my clarinet but me."

Tony's head had cleared a bit by the time they reached the car, enough for him to think about what he was actually doing. "David--" He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "It's not that I don't want this. You. Whatever. Abby, shut up."

She covered her mouth to hide the snicker.

"But...you deserve the truth, which means you really need to talk to Stephen about how we met before this goes any further." Tony blew out a breath. "Okay?"

David nodded. "You've piqued my curiosity, but okay. I'll talk to Stephen this week."

"I can still drive you home," Tony offered.

"Too much temptation." David grinned. "I'll take the Metro. It's not far." He kissed Tony lightly and headed off into the night.

"Okay," Abby said once he was gone. "That was completely noble and also utterly idiotic."

"He deserves to know, Abs."

"You're making this such a big deal!" she exclaimed, gesturing. "It's not!"

Tony looked at her evenly. "How long did it take you to get over nearly proving I'd killed someone?"

As he'd thought, she subsided, looking down. "You don't play fair," she muttered.

"It's a similar situation. David deserves to know I nearly put his friend away for murder." Tony opened the car door. "C'mon, Abs. Let's go home."

*************
Three days later, he was in the middle of a pizza and an old Steve McQueen movie when the phone rang. Tony glared at it; he'd gotten almost no sleep in the past forty-eight hours and if that was a new case he was going to throw his badge and his phone down the incinerator.

"DiNozzo," he answered with a groan. "This better be good."

"Depends," a male voice said, laughing. "Do I qualify?"

Tony rubbed his forehead. "Do I know you?"

"I suppose I shouldn't have expected you to remember my voice. It's David."

"Oh! Hey. Sorry about the way I picked up--work's been hellish."

"No worries." David chuckled. "Busy investigating the Navy, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"You talked to Stephen, I see." Tony shifted on the couch, muting the movie. "What'd he say?"

"Actually, I talked to Stephen and Joshua. We had dinner last night." Tony heard the smile in David's voice and hoped that meant it had gone well. "They both say you're a good guy. Joshua says you're a complete natural, and Stephen says you're still not sure what you're looking for. Oh, and there was this little thing about you trying to arrest Joshua for murder?"

Tony groaned. "I--yeah, well. That was the way the investigation led."

"I'm rather grateful you didn't." David laughed again. "Is that what you were worried about, Tony? That I wouldn't want you anymore once I found out what you did? Or what had happened with Stephen and Joshua?"

"Well..." Tony looked down at his beer. "Yeah."

"Idiot." David's voice was cheerful. "I'll admit, it's not exactly what I'd expected, and I hadn't thought of you as a federal agent, but to each his own, right? Honestly, you should think I'd be grateful that you caught the real killer, not upset because your investigation pointed to a friend of mine. I mean, shit happens, right?"

"Yeah." It came out around a yawn and Tony groaned. "Sorry about that."

"It's cool, Tony. Trust me, I understand the concept of running on no sleep. I nearly yawned in the middle of a solo last week. Bad idea." David laughed again. "So once you've caught up on your completely unnecessary beauty rest, would you like to meet me for dinner?"

"Ah--yeah," Tony said, smiling a little. "That'd be cool."

"If you're worried about it just being the two of us I can invite Stephen and Joshua along. I'm pretty sure Stephen's worked through whatever was on his mind."

"That's okay. Really. I--the two of us is fine." Tony groaned inwardly, wondering why David had the power to reduce him to a stammering moron. He hadn't been this awkward with a date since he was fourteen.

Then again, he reminded himself, no other date had had this underlying dynamic, assuming there was one. Tony wasn't sure, and David wasn't really giving him a clue.

"Sweet. So...is tomorrow okay, or do you need more sleep?" David was definitely teasing him, but Tony found he didn't mind.

"If I show up in my pajamas, you'll know," he countered. "Um--seven okay?"

"Can we make it eight? I have a rehearsal that will probably run until seven." David sighed.

"Sure, eight's fine. Where would you like to go?"

"Sanderson's? They have the best burgers in the area."

"And their beer selection is pretty damn good, too," Tony agreed. "So tomorrow at eight?"

"I'll see you then. Sleep well, gorgeous." David hung up.

Tony flipped his phone shut. "Gorgeous?" he asked his ceiling. "This guy's something else."

His ceiling declined to comment on the matter.

***********
No one was in a good mood at work the next day, not even Abby. Tony tried to talk to her and nearly got his head bitten off for his trouble. McGee came back up from the lab looking like she'd ripped him apart and Ziva didn't even try going down there.

"Figures," Tony muttered to himself. "The one day I could really use her advice and she's not talking to anyone." He tapped his pen on his desk, trying to think. What would work on her? Caffeine, sure, but anything else? Not flowers, but...hm.

He got up abruptly and left the office, returning a little while later with bribes, and went down to her lab. The music was blasting and he wasn't even sure she heard his knock, but she turned from her computer, glaring. "What?" she demanded.

"I come in peace," he said, holding out the Caff-Pow. Abby snatched it from him and took a long pull.

"What do you want?" she asked shortly.

Tony held out the bag of dark chocolate Hershey's Kisses he'd picked up. "Chocolate?" he offered. He had no idea if she liked them or not, but it was worth a shot. And if she wouldn't eat them, he sure as hell would.

Abby looked at the bag, looked at him, and grabbed it right out of his hand. She ripped it open and poured three into her hand, unwrapping them and popping them into her mouth.

"Abs?" Tony asked warily.

She held up a finger. He watched as she closed her eyes, letting the chocolate melt in her mouth, before swallowing and taking another pull of her soda. "Okay," she said, opening her eyes. "What can I do for you?"

The cheerful grin she gave him made him blink in confusion. "Are you--"

"Chocolate solves many of life's problems." Abby grinned. "And I love these. Nice choice."

"You seemed like a dark chocolate kind of person to me." Tony smiled and leaned against the wall. "So you won't rip my head off now?"

"No, but if McGee or Ziva come down here, I refuse to be held responsible for my actions."

"Duly noted." Tony hesitated, suddenly uncertain. "So, um. I have a date tonight," he said quickly.

Abby bounced and spun to face him. "With our friend the musician?"

He blessed her tactfulness in not specifying a gender. "Yeah. We're meeting at eight. Just a casual dinner."

"With possibilities?" Abby raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look, Tony. I saw the way you were eyeing each other."

"I didn't say any--" Tony sighed. "Yeah, with possibilities. But I don't...ugh. I don't know..." He rubbed his forehead. "I still don't know what I think of it all, Abs."

She looked at him contemplatively, then hit a few keys on her keyboard and dragged him into her office. "Is it the guy thing?"

Tony shook his head. "It's been a few years, but I still remember how everything works. No, it's...the other stuff. I don't know...oh, hell, Abby. I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Okay." Abby plopped down in her chair, looking at him. "So what's scaring you? The idea of subbing for him or the thought that you might like it?"

"Do I have to choose one?" Tony asked wryly.

"Nope." Abby popped another Kiss in her mouth. "Tony, if you're really nervous, cancel the date. David won't fault you for it."

"I don't want to." Tony sighed. "I like him, Abby. I like him a lot. And the club--that was--" He shook his head. "I don't know how to describe it. It felt good. I'm just not sure...I'm not sure I want to give up control like that. Especially not in bed."

"Why not?" she asked.

This was what he couldn't really put into words. Tony shook his head, trying to figure it out. "I don't know," he admitted. "It feels like...well--doesn't it..." Tony groaned. "It feels kind of weak, I guess."

Abby's mouth twitched. "You think it makes you less of a man to want to sub for someone?" she asked.

"No, not--" Tony rubbed his forehead again. "Just not as strong as I should be."

"Okay." Abby nodded. "You want to tell Stephen he's not as strong as he should be, because he subs for Joshua?"

Tony was pretty sure that taste in his mouth was leather, from the shoe he'd just stuck in it.

"Tony, all this means is that you want to give up control for a little while, or that you want to experience things you can't with vanilla sex. That's all. It doesn't reflect on your strength or your masculinity or any of that." Abby got up and walked over to him, draping her arms around his neck. "Go on your date. Have fun. And don't think too much about it, okay? That's what'll get you in trouble and make it not work. Just...don't think about it. Go with the flow, okay?"

He hugged her. "Thanks, Abs."

"No problem. Want a Kiss?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"I'll stick to the chocolate kind," Tony told her wryly. He snagged one from the bag on her desk and headed back upstairs, feeling better than he had all day.

Even getting reamed by Gibbs over a report he'd done wasn't enough to completely quash his mood, and he left at six-thirty whistling. He had just enough time to get home and freshen up before going to meet David. Green sweater, jeans, sneakers--casual, but he still looked good, if he said so himself.

"Showtime," Tony murmured to himself, getting out of his car.

David was waiting for him, a half-full pint in his hand. "I got out of rehearsal sooner than I thought I would," he explained. His smile deepened a bit as he looked at Tony. "You look good," he said easily.

"Thanks." Tony smiled back. "So do you." David had on jeans and a blue shirt with yellow pinstripes. The stud in his ear was yellow--topaz, maybe--and he had four silver rings on, as well as a silver cuff bracelet. The bracelet had a couple gems in it--amethyst, Tony thought, and moonstone. He had to smile. "You like jewelry, don't you?" he asked.

"Is that a problem?" David grinned, looking at his hands.

"Not at all. Just an observation."

David laughed. "I suppose I should have expected a LEO to be observant."

The host came up to them. "Would you gentlemen like to sit in the bar area? Or would you prefer a table?" he asked.

"Table, thanks," David said with a smile.

"This way." He led them to a booth by the windows, away from the noise of the bar. "Aaron will be right over to take your drink orders."

"So how'd rehearsal go today?" Tony asked for lack of anything else to say.

David sighed. "Long. We've got a big performance coming up. Strauss--Heldenleben. It's going to be a tough one."

"Ouch." Tony was only vaguely familiar with Strauss, and most of what he knew were waltzes. Somehow he doubted David was referring to the Blue Danube.

"If you're interested, I can get you a ticket." David took a sip of his beer. "It's cool if you're not."

"Ah--no, I'd like to," Tony told him. "Really. I don't know the piece, but--"

"Sometimes it's better if you don't. That way if we screw up, you won't notice." David grinned, and Tony had the sense that David was laughing at both of them.

Their waiter came over then, crouching down next to the table. "What can I get you?" he asked cheerfully. "Sorry for the wait."

"No problem." David smiled at him. "Can I get a refill on this? It's Harp."

"Sure thing. And you?" Aaron turned to Tony.

"Make that two," Tony said with a nod to David's pint.

"You got it. You gentlemen want to start with some nachos, maybe, or our spinach dip?" Aaron looked between them.

"You like spinach?" David asked.

"Sure." Tony shrugged. "You want to try the dip?"

"Spinach dip, thanks," David said with a smile for Aaron.

"Two pints of Harp and spinach dip coming right up." Aaron stood and walked off.

Something occurred to Tony and he shifted a little in his seat. "Is everything okay with Stephen, now?" he asked.

David nodded. "It's family crap. He has more of it than anyone I know. Six siblings, and everyone's got their issues." David sighed. "And when he says he's the black sheep, he's not kidding. He and his father...well. It's really--I shouldn't really be talking about it."?
"It's okay." Tony smiled wryly. "Believe me, I know about father issues."

"Don't we all?" David said lightly. "But yeah, Stephen's fine." He smiled a little. "Joshua takes care of him."

"I got that impression," Tony said with a laugh.

"So enough about them." David leaned back in his seat. "Tell me about you. Why NCIS?"

Tony grinned. "It was better than Baltimore."

"Hey now." David gave him a mock-glare. "Nothing wrong with Baltimore."

"No, but this was a better job offer. And Gibbs..." Tony shrugged. "He's a bastard, but he's also...he's the best. Working with him--it's worth it."

"The best ones are always the bastards," David said, nodding. "I had a conductor like that once."

"Why music?" Tony asked. "And why the clarinet?"

David shrugged. "It's phallic?"

Tony nearly choked on his water.

"But seriously folks." David grinned and passed him a napkin. "I like the sound and the timbre. The flute was too girly, when I was growing up, and I wasn't interested in brass or strings." He grinned. "And the fact that I get to spend my days playing with a tube is just icing."

Aaron came back with their beer and their dip then. "You two ready to order?" he asked.

"Ah--sure. I'll have the mushroom swiss burger," Tony said, handing over his menu. "Medium."

"And you?" Aaron asked, turning to David.

"Bacon cheddar burger," David said, handing his own over. "Also medium."

"You got it." Aaron left.

"This is me not being a good Jewish boy," David said, laughing. "But I don't really care."

"Fair enough." Tony grinned. "Me, I'm a lapsed Catholic."

"Let me guess. Altar boy?"

"Of course." Tony took a chip and scooped up some dip. "What gave it away?"

"The kinky ones always are." David took a chip of his own. "I think it's something about all that ritual."

Tony laughed. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"Hmm." David licked his lower lip and considered as he picked up another chip. "Come home with me tonight and I'll show you."

Whoa. "I--" Tony shook his head. "That's a bit sudden, don't you think?"

"You almost took me home last time, remember?" David popped the chip into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. "I'm not some girl you have to seduce, Tony. We're grown adults. I want you, I'm pretty sure you want me--is there any reason we can't or shouldn't act on that?"

Well, when he put it like that..."I guess not," Tony admitted. He blew out a breath. "I still haven't--I don't know much," he confessed.

"It's fine, Tony. Honest. If all you want is vanilla, that's cool. It's your comfort level, okay? It's not like you're Stephen."

The thought of that much intensity made him shudder. "No thanks," he said definitely.

"But speaking of, Stephen's a great resource, if you want to talk to him. He's got a bookcase full of stuff, and he'd be more than happy to lend it to you." David shrugged. "Up to you."

"I'll think about it." Tony picked up another chip. "So, um. What's this Strauss thing you're doing? Mein Lieben, or something?"

David grinned, and that was that.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much on a date. David seemed to have a joke or a wry comment on everything, from politics to movies to--well, anything. It was completely unlike any date Tony could ever remember and he had to admit, it was probably one of the best he'd had in a long, long time.

They had coffee in lieu of dessert, and when the bill came David grabbed it before Tony could. "My treat," he said, taking out his wallet. "I did ask you out, after all."

"Yeah, and you're a musician."

"I make enough to afford dinner once in a while. I'd be a dead musician--or at least a lot thinner--if I didn't." David grinned and took some bills out of his wallet, putting them in the folder and closing it. "So. You ready to blow this joint?"

Tony bit back the retort that sprang to mind and just smiled. From the look on David's face, he hadn't missed it. "Later," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Once I get you home."

"Your place, then?" Tony asked, pulling on his jacket.

"Wherever you're more comfortable." David shrugged into his own jacket and they headed outside. "Yours, mine, I don't care. They've both got beds, right?"

"Was I this obviously a foregone conclusion when you met me?" Tony asked wryly, unlocking his car.

David laughed. "I could only hope, once I knew you weren't there with Abby."

"With--oh, no." Tony grinned. "No. She's a good friend, and we work together."

"I can't see her as a federal agent." David looked at him dubiously. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Forensics," Tony explained. He stopped at a red light and glanced at David. "She has this obsession with death and all things scientific. It's...weird. And endearing. In a very creepy way."

David started laughing. "I don't know what's funnier--her interests or how you described them," he said, wiping his eyes.

Tony smiled ruefully. "Thanks," he said. "Way to make a guy feel good about himself."

"Oh, please." David snorted. "You're smart enough to know when someone's really laughing at you--which I wasn't. Just teasing." He rested a hand over Tony's on the steering wheel and squeezed. "Relax, Tony-boy."

"Yeah." Tony managed a smile. "I'm working on it."

"We'll get you relaxed." David's voice had dropped into a low purr. "Trust me, Tony."

He nodded, rather than try and speak. David's voice thrummed along his bones, but he couldn't afford to let himself give into how it made him feel. Not while he was driving.

Somehow they made it back to his place and into the elevator. David didn't touch him on the way up, for which Tony could only be grateful. He wasn't sure he'd make it in the door otherwise. Now that they were alone--and on their way to his apartment--the vibe had changed, deepened, and something in the pit of Tony's stomach was twisting itself into knots over it.

He unlocked the door and gestured David inside; David walked in, looking around. "Nice place," he said approvingly. "Federal agents must get paid well."

Tony laughed. "Uh, no. I lucked out." He threw the bolt on the door and dropped his keys and jacket, toeing off his shoes automatically.

"Mmm." David held out a hand. "C'mere."

Slowly, Tony took it, letting himself be pulled in close, against David. "Relax," David murmured, stroking Tony's face. "I won't do anything you don't want."

He bent his head and kissed Tony, easily, gently, tongue coaxing his mouth open. Tony shivered, closing his eyes. This wasn't new to him, and yet...everything felt different.

"You with me, Tony?" David said softly. He settled Tony against him, stroking his hair and his face. "We okay?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah," he said, feeling that same light-headedness he'd felt in the club. "We're okay."

"All you have to do is tell me to stop," David told him. "All right?"

"I will." Tony smiled a little. "I promise."

"Good boy." David kissed him again. "Where's your bedroom?"

Tony pointed. "That way." He pulled away from David, leading him into the bedroom. Thank God the cleaning lady had come that day; the bed was made with clean sheets and it looked decent--well, it did once he flipped on the bedside lamps and they could see.

"Nice bed," David said admiringly, nodding at the four-poster.

"Thanks." Tony smiled. "I liked the cherry."

David laughed. "I could make so many jokes..." He grinned. "But I won't." Instead, he leaned against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets. "Take off your clothes, Tony," he said calmly.

That low purr was in his voice again, that same easy power that Joshua had had, that Stephen had used--only it felt stronger now, more intense. Tony wasn't sure if it was because it was aimed at him or because--he froze, not sure what to do, how he felt, anything.

"Don't think," David told him. "Don't think about it, don't try to analyze it, just let it go, Tony. Just relax." He stepped toward Tony, taking his chin in his hand. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

The smart answer was no. He didn't really know the guy, or--but Stephen had vouched for him, and for some reason, Tony trusted Stephen. And there was something about David... "Yes," he said, licking dry lips.

"Then just close your eyes and let it all go. All you need to think about is me." David kissed him lightly. "Relax, Tony. Just focus on me."

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He let it out slowly, focusing on David's fingers running through his hair, over the back of his neck. His head felt light, his body loose and limber. Vaguely, he wondered if he needed to do anything, but the thought dissipated like mist.

"That's it," David said softly. "That's where I want you, Tony." He kissed Tony again, pulling away slowly. "Take off your clothes," he said as he stepped back.

Tony didn't think about it now; David had told him to do something and so he did it, starting with his sweater. The soft green cotton settled softly on his dresser, followed by the smooth cotton of his shirt and the worn undershirt. He unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, pushing them down over his hips and stepping out of them. His briefs were next, then his socks, and then he stood naked in his bedroom, in front of David.

"So damn hot," David murmured, walking over to him. He brushed his fingers over Tony's cheek, down his throat and over his chest and stomach. "So hot, Tony."

David cupped Tony's face in his hands and kissed him again, slow and deep; Tony groaned a little in the back of his throat, swaying closer. He felt goosebumps prickle on his skin, even though it wasn't cold in the room. David's hands slid around to the back of his neck, squeezing gently, and it sent sparks through him, making him shudder.

God. What was David doing to him? Tony had a sudden flash of what he was doing, what he looked like, and pulled back abruptly. "No," he said hoarsely. "No, wait."

He was more than a little relieved when David took a step back. "What's wrong, Tony?" he asked quietly.

Tony sat down on his bed, running his hands through his hair. "I don't think I can do this," he said, looking down at the smooth wood floor.

The bed dipped as David sat down next to him. "Why not?"

"I can't--it's easy for you, or for Stephen, or whoever, but I can't do this." Tony shook his head.

"Do you want to?" David asked after a moment.

"I..." Tony fell back against the comforter. "I don't know."

"Okay." David nodded. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I don't know that either." Tony groaned. "I'm--God, David, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Tony." David squeezed his arm a little.

"No, it's really not." Tony sighed.

"Hey." David shook his arm a little. "Look at me."

He did, albeit reluctantly. To his surprise, David didn't look upset, or angry, or even annoyed. Just...patient. And understanding. "I can go home, Tony," David said. He lay down next to Tony, propping himself on an elbow. "It's really okay."

"I don't want you to go home." Tony propped himself up, facing David. "I just don't know if I can do this."

"Close your eyes," David said softly. "Please."

Tony exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, a little uncertain why but willing to go along with it.

He felt David's hand on his face, warm and gentle, fingers spread wide over his skin, a moment before he felt David's mouth on his.

David kept the kiss light, barely brushing his lips over Tony's, again and again. "So sexy," he whispered, tongue flicking over Tony's lower lip. "So damn hot." He nipped Tony's lower lip, the slight pain sending sparks through him and making him groan against David's mouth.

Tony groaned, reaching for David, wanting more than these teasing kisses; David chuckled and pushed him down on his back, moving to straddle him. "This what you want?" he asked, kissing Tony again, harder, deeper, tongue sliding into Tony's mouth. "Like this?"

"God. Yes." Tony reached for him again, grateful when David let himself be pulled down. The rasp of his jeans felt rough against Tony's skin, while the buttons on his shirt pressed into Tony's chest. Tony grumbled with impatience, reaching to unbutton David's shirt, shoving it off his shoulders.

David laughed and knelt up, unbuttoning the rest and letting the shirt slide off and fall to the floor. "Impatient, aren't you?" he teased. He leaned down to kiss Tony briefly. "Stretch out," he said, nodding at the bed. "I'd rather not have you strain something that way."

Tony smiled a bit and pushed himself back on the bed, turning so his head was on the pillows. He pushed himself up on his elbows, watching David pull off the rest of his clothes. "Talk about hot," Tony said with a slight smile. David looked pretty damn good naked--lean, with a scattering of blond hair that led down to his groin. His cock was half-hard, and as Tony looked at it, it twitched with interest.

"Thank you." David laughed and crawled onto the bed, kneeling over Tony. "Now just lie back and think of England," he said, grinning as he bent down to kiss Tony.

Tony kissed him, licking David's lower lip. "Rather think of you," he said softly.

David's eyes darkened and he kissed Tony again, harder. "Good," he whispered against Tony's lips. "Because I'd rather you did too." He smiled, stroking Tony's hair back. "Can you do something for me?"

"I can try," Tony said, a little wary.

"I promise, it won't hurt." David grinned. "I just want you to stay still, okay?"

Slowly, Tony nodded. "Okay."

David kissed his forehead, then his eyelids. "Keep your eyes closed," he said softly.

Tony nodded again, trying to relax against the bed. David's mouth brushed over his lightly, trailing a line of kisses from his mouth to his jaw, down his throat, over his collarbone. He nipped Tony lightly, over his pulse, tongue tracing the mark he'd made; Tony shivered a bit in response. David bit him again, a little harder, and Tony groaned and let his head fall to the side. God, that felt good.

David chuckled softly, nuzzling the bite. He slid down Tony's body, leaving a path of gentle bites and kisses, licking his collarbone. Tony groaned, unable to keep from twisting a bit from the feel of skin on skin, the drag of David's body against his. He spread his legs a little to make it easier for David to settle against him, and heard David's low laugh in response.

"Yeah," David breathed against Tony's shoulder, hands sliding down to Tony's hips. "Like that." He knelt up, shaking back his hair, before taking Tony's wrists in his hands.

Tony watched, unable to look away, as David raised each of Tony's wrists to his lips, kissing the inside, before squeezing them gently and pressing them into the pillows over his head. "Stay like that," David told him, running his fingers down Tony's arms. "Okay?"

His throat felt tight and his mouth felt dry, so he nodded rather than try to speak.

David smiled, stroking Tony's throat and chest, fingers skating over his stomach, where the muscles clenched in response. David laughed and leaned down to kiss Tony's belly button, tongue dipping into it teasingly. Tony couldn't help but laugh, squirming away from David's mouth. "Hey," he said in protest.

"Ticklish?" David ran his fingers up Tony's ribs, making him laugh and twist against it. "Mmm. We'll play with that later," David promised. He bent down, kissing Tony's stomach, his hip, biting gently over the bone. Tony groaned and shivered, arching into his touch.

David's mouth moved lower, dangerously close to his groin, his hands on Tony's thighs, holding him in place. He breathed across the head of Tony's cock, his tongue flicking out to taste it. "Don't move," he said, voice low. "Don't you dare move."

Tony bit his lip, fighting to stay still, but David was teasing his cock, nuzzling it and licking it in short, light teasing swipes of his tongue, and it was so hard not to just thrust up into it--

"Jesus!" Tony lost all the breath in his body when David's mouth suddenly closed over his cock, hot and wet and sucking him down hard. "Christ, David--"

As if in warning, David's hands tightened on Tony's thighs. He didn't stop, he didn't back off, and Tony grabbed the pillows over his head in desperation. "David," he groaned again. "David, please..."

David raised his head, licking his lips. His mouth was wet and swollen, his eyes were dark. "You want my mouth?" he asked huskily. "Is that what you want, Tony?"

God, yes, but-- "Fuck me," Tony said, hearing the ragged desperation in his voice and not caring. "David, fuck me."

David kissed Tony's stomach, crawling up his body to kiss his mouth. "Ask me nicely," he whispered.

Tony shuddered, both at the words and the dark, potent look in David's eyes. "Please," he whispered back, mouth dry. "David, please..."

In response, David kissed him hard, biting his lips. "Where are your supplies?" he asked roughly.

Tony nodded at his nightstand. "Top drawer." He watched David lean over him to open the drawer, grabbing a condom and the bottle of lube.

"You've got quite the assortment," David said wryly, shoving the drawer shut and kneeling between Tony's legs. "Peppermint lube?"

"It tingles. And it's edible. And why the fuck are we talking about it?" Tony asked impatiently.

David laughed and kissed him. "Now just relax," he said, slicking one of his fingers. "This won't hurt. Much."

"I won't break," Tony said wryly.

But despite his words, he had to fight to relax around David's finger, slowly working its way into him. Thank God David was patient, waiting for him to relax and ease into it before stretching him open, first one finger, then two, taking his time with both.

"Okay," Tony said, swallowing hard. "I'm okay."

David nodded and pulled his fingers out slowly. "Okay." He wiped his fingers on a tissue and ripped the condom packet open; Tony was a little pleased to see David's fingers were shaking, just a bit, as he rolled on the condom and coated it with lube. David positioned himself at Tony's hole, pushing his legs up and back. "Breathe," he said, right before he drove into Tony.

Tony gasped, his whole body freezing up. His breath caught in his lungs and he couldn't seem to exhale, inhale, move, anything.

"Breathe," David snapped, hands tightening on Tony's legs. "I told you to breathe, Tony. Do it."

The air rushed out of his lungs and he felt himself relax as he inhaled and exhaled, oxygen flowing through him. Oh. That was better. That felt...really good, actually, and then David began to move and it felt even better, and Tony groaned helplessly.

David's eyes were intent on Tony's face; a few strands of hair clung to his cheek and Tony would have reached up to push them back if he could have moved. He felt the warmth of David's rings against his thighs, the edge of David's bracelet digging into his skin.

And he felt David's cock inside him, thrusting into him over and over again, hot and hard and thick, stealing his breath, his mind, until all that was left was need, burning white-hot and sharp. God, yes, more, anything, and his cock was trapped between his stomach and David's, rubbing against David's skin every time David moved and he was so close to coming he nearly sobbed.

David twisted just a bit, thrust a little harder, and he hit Tony's prostate and Tony cried out harshly, arching under him. "David--" he gasped. "God, David--"

"Tony," David said hoarsely. "Come for me, come on..." He was moving hard, his cock rubbing over Tony's prostate with every thrust now. "Come for me, baby, c'mon..." He reached down, hand wrapping around Tony's cock; Tony gasped and thrust into his hold, shuddering.

"David..." he groaned. "David--"

"C'mon, baby, c'mon, do it..." David kissed him, hard, his hand pulling Tony's cock roughly, and it was just enough--Tony moaned into his mouth and shuddered and came helplessly.

He was still struggling to breathe a moment later when David gasped something incomprehensible and came with a shudder.

David didn't collapse on him, but it was a close thing. He pulled out of Tony carefully and got rid of the condom, making a face as he did so. "Ugh," he said, falling down on the bed. "C'mere."

Tony rolled over and into his arms, sighing. "Wow," he said after a minute. "That...wow."

"That was nothing." David grinned and kissed him.

"Tell that to my ass," Tony said wryly.

David laughed. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah." Tony shrugged a bit and settled against David. "Do I have to think about it now?"

"God no. I don't think I can." David grinned. "Later. If you're interested. We can talk about it then." He kissed Tony again, briefly. "Like I said, Tony. That was nothing."

"Mmm." Tony nodded. "I think...yeah." He shoved a hand through his hair, deciding not to think about it for now. "You spending the night?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Tony smiled and kissed David's shoulder. "Spend the night. We can talk over breakfast."

"Okay." David smiled and stroked Tony's hair. "I like that idea."

"Good." Tony smiled back.

A moment later, David laughed. "So, was it good for you?"

Tony hit him with a pillow.