Tony was sound asleep on the sofa when Jethro got home and the sight brought a smile to his otherwise scowling face.

In the last week since discovering the hit on Tony, he'd been forced to go nonstop at work and Tony, unfortunately, had been left at home since he was not yet qualified for field work. He was confident that Robert DiNozzo wouldn't make another assassination attempt, now that the first had failed. He would go for something more subtle and less directly traced back to him. There had been days that all Jethro had wanted to do was punch something in frustration, then go home and fuck Tony until they were both limp as wet noodles, but he couldn't do that. Not really.

So he did the job, checking in with Tony on a regular basis to make sure he was all right at home. Kate and McGee backed him up, and Ducky, Gerald, and Abby all did their parts to make sure the case didn't come apart once it left their part of the investigation. As it was, they had a rock-solid case against a group of marines had been smuggling in cocaine and distributing it to a local college population.

Fucking Marines! Jethro thought with the usual burst of fury. Marines of all people, Gods damn it!

If it had been up to him, they'd have been in chains before Jethro had even finished reading their rights, but that wasn't procedure. And, as Tony's case had shown, mistakes could be made and innocent people convicted.

Not by his team, but it happened.

Sighing as he consciously released the tension, as much as possible anyhow, Jethro crossed over to Tony and sat on the coffee table. Just watching his slave sleep, safe and secure in his home was enough to relax him further. By the time Tony yawned and woke on his own, maybe sensing Jethro's presence, it was possible to smile at the younger man and mean it.

Tony smiled back and greeted happily through another yawn, "Master, you're home."

Leaning in, Jethro kissed him gently, his heart filling with love and happiness as Tony returned the kiss so sweetly. Pulling back, Jethro replied, "I certainly am. Anything to eat in this place?"

Tony flashed him a grin and sat up, scrubbing fingers through his hair as he answered, "I ordered pizza tonight and there's a couple of slices left."

"You're going to eat me out of house and home, DiNozzo," Jethro grumped, making sure to smile as he said it. Tony was still sometimes caught not knowing when he was teasing.

Stealing another kiss, Tony hopped to his feet and ordered, "Stay put and I'll fix it for you. Oh! Wait. Here, sit."

Jethro's eyebrows rose as Tony manhandled him carefully onto the sofa, then knelt on the floor and yanked off his shoes and socks. When the foot massage began, he had to groan in pleasure and sank back against the sofa cushions. "Damn, Tony, where did you learn that? On second thought, I don't want to know."

Tony chuckled and said, "Good plan, Boss. Hey, you look wiped. Everything tie up okay?"

"Marines," Jethro answered succinctly. "Fuckin' Marines, Tony."

"I'm sorry, Master."

Sighing, Jethro opened his eyes and saw the sincere sympathy reflected on Tony's expressive face. He managed a smile and cupped Tony's face. "Thanks, Tony."

Tony brought up a foot and kissed the instep, his look of devotion soothing something deep inside Jethro. For a long few moments, they just stared at each other, then Jethro's stomach grumbled and they both laughed. Tony released his feet and stood to jog into the kitchen while Jethro craned his neck to watch.

It was so good to see his lover happy and confident, how he had been before the wrongful conviction, Jethro was sure. He didn't kid himself that it would last beyond the first question about his family history, but it was something Jethro would treasure as much as he could. And even though he really hadn't had the proper time to spend on the investigation into his slave's family and why his father would be out to kill him, Jethro knew it couldn't wait much longer. There was no telling what Tony's father was working on next to get to his son.

Abby had done some research for him in her scant spare time, digging into the DiNozzo family tree to see what could be seen. Turned out that the elder DiNozzo and clan lived in Rhode Island, where Tony had grown up, and owned several lucrative investment firms. New money, though, not the kind that DiNozzo, Sr. had been craving when he'd married Tony's mother. Apparently seeking to marry into nobility and, potentially, Master status of his own, Tony's father had been denied because the grandfather couldn't stand his son-in-law. That had made for some cold family dinners, Jethro was sure.

"You look deep in thought," Tony observed, sitting beside him with a plate of pizza.

Smiling, Jethro nodded and kissed him, lingering long enough to start a different kind of hunger. His stomach rumbled again, though, denying any fun to be had before eating, and he chuckled, pulling back from a smiling kiss. Staring into the changeable, hazel eyes, Jethro murmured, "You're so beautiful, Tony."

As expected, Tony flushed and ducked his head, looking away shyly.

Jethro grinned and nipped playfully at an exposed ear. "I need to eat and then, I really need to have dessert. I'm thinking a little DiNozzo crËme should top me off nicely, don't you?"

Tony groaned and snuggled against him, complaining, "You're so bad with puns, Master. Why do you try?"

"Because it's fun to hear you groan. Reminds me of other noises you make," Jethro teased.

Hiding his face against Jethro's throat, Tony didn't answer. He just put his legs over Jethro's lap, balancing the plate on his own. Jethro's arm went around his waist for support and he used his free hand to eat while Tony used the remote to channel surf. It was a quiet, contented dinner and, once done, Jethro set aside the plate to pull his slave more firmly onto his lap.

They watched television for about an hour, so Jethro could catch up with what was going on in the world. It was so good to hold Tony, to have him rest so trusting against him, drowsing comfortably on his lap. Nuzzling the side of his lover's throat, Jethro licked a light path up to his ear, provoking a shiver from Tony. Grinning, he murmured, "I think I'm all caught up."

Tony cleared his throat and answered breathlessly, "I hope so."

Taking a good look at the younger man, Jethro realized just how much of a strain being on his own had been for Tony. Kissing his cheek, Jethro said, "You did good, baby."

Surprised, Tony asked, "About what?"

"Holding your own this week," Jethro explained. "Not having to worry about you let me focus on the job, which busted seven dirty Marines who never deserved their uniform. I'm very proud of you."

A pleased smile blossomed on Tony's face, even as he hid it against Jethro's shoulder with a muffled, "Thanks, Master."

Chuckling, Jethro swatted him lightly on the rump and ordered, "Up! We have things to do tonight."

Tony stood, but complained, "Like what?"

"Like I've got a neglected boat in the basement and I noticed that the laundry hasn't been doing itself while I was stuck at work," Jethro observed pointedly.

"A neglected boat?" Tony repeated, ignoring the laundry comment. "What are you talking about?"

Smiling, Jethro put his arm around Tony's waist and brought him over to the basement door. He wasn't surprised that Tony hadn't gone exploring on his own. The young man was scrupulously polite when it came to privacy, which led Jethro to wonder if he'd never had any of his own, growing up.

Once downstairs, Tony turned an astonished look on Jethro and demanded, "How the hell are you going to get it out, Master?"

Jethro laughed. "I'll worry about that when I'm done with her."

"Have you named her yet?" Tony questioned eagerly.

Shaking his head, Jethro said, "I'm going to wait until she's done. What I feel about her now, will be different by then. And the wood takes on the hue of the person working it, so she could come out completely different from how I intended."

"But, you've already got the skeleton done," Tony pointed out, confused. "How would she turn out different?"

Jethro hesitated, then explained, "What's on paper and what's in my head, will be different from how she actually looks once she's done. It'sÖhard to explain."

"No, I get it. You've got an image of what she's going to look like, but it's like having an idealized vision of, like, yourself. What you see in the mirror doesn't always match what's in your head, even though you see yourself every day."

Pleased that Tony understood what he'd been trying to say, Jethro pulled him in for a deep, slow kiss. Sliding his arms around Tony's waist, Jethro indulged himself in his lover's taste for a long time. The only reason they stopped was because of the doorbell ringing. Growling in irritation, Jethro muttered, "If it's Jehovah's Witnesses, I'm shooting them."

Tony laughed and followed him back upstairs.

It was definitely not Jehovah's Witnesses though, and Jethro's stomach lurched when he saw two policemen and an unknown, prim and pinched-faced woman on his front steps. Wary, he asked, "What can I do for you, officers?"

"We're here for Tony DiNozzo," the woman replied, stepping forward. "My name is Elizabeth Rawly and I work for the Social Services' Slave Welfare department. Here's the documentation withdrawing him from your home and a restraining order to keep you from him until further notice."

Head swimming at the blunt declaration and papers thrust at him, Jethro forced the emotions back and snatched the paperwork from her. While having minimal powers in the actual welfare of slaves, the department was growing in popularity because of the abolitionist movement. It was no longer possible to just ignore them with impunity.

"Master?" Tony whispered from behind.

Pinning Rawly and the cops with his best glare, he ordered, "You stay right there while I read this. Do not set one foot in this house."

She glared right back, but couldn't gainsay his right.

Jethro turned to Tony, who had paled alarmingly, and gripped his shoulder briefly before opening the documents to read. Fury lit through him as he saw the someone, most certainly Tony's father, had alerted Social Services about Tony's wrongful conviction and then immediate ëvoluntary' slave status. They had instantly qualified him as being potentially unstable, mentally, and/or manipulated through circumstance into signing his life away after the severe emotional, mental, and physical trauma he'd gone through in the Pens. Until a psychological evaluation was performed, he was to be removed from Jethro's home, and to have nothing to do with Jethro, supposedly to keep him from intimidation.

Keeping calm was not something Jethro wanted to do. What he wanted to do was slam the door in their face and make a run for it with Tony. Knowing that it wasn't possible, however, Jethro took a deep breath and looked at his slave, trying to figure out what to tell him.

Tony took one look at Jethro's face and paled, his knees giving out. Fortunately, he landed on the hassock and not his ass. Jethro crossed over to him and Tony threw his arms around his waist, holding tight enough to make breathing difficult, especially with the shoulder in his gut. Bending over Tony, he said, "It's going to be okay, Tony, I promise. You have to go with them now, but it's not like before. You're not under arrest, you're in protective custody. You won't be anywhere near the Pens. You'll have your own room and be as safe as if you were still right here."

Shaking his head, Tony refused to let go. "I won't leave. I won't! Don't make me leave, Master, please!"

Heart tearing at the agonized fear in Tony's hoarse voice, Jethro said simply, "We don't have a choice, my own, but it won't be for long. I'm going to call Ducky and he'll meet you there as soon as he can. We'll arrange for you to be in his custody until this mess is sorted out, okay? They won't refuse an abolitionist of his reputation, especially not with Director Morrow backing the petition, which he will. Come on, Tony, let go."

It took another minute of soft promises spoken directly into Tony's ear to get him to release Jethro and stand up. When he finally did, the fear on his face wasn't any less, but he was as composed as possible, given the circumstances.

Walking him over to the interlopers outside, Jethro looked them each in the eyes before stating, "If a single hair on his head is out of place when I get him back, I will personally dispense a Gunny's Justice on each of you."

The cops flinched, but nodded and each answered sharply, "Yes, Sir!"

Rawly, however, gave him a disdainful look and replied contemptuously, "The only harm that could come to Mr. DiNozzo is in your care, Agent Gibbs. Look to yourself."

Idly wondering if she was stupid or suicidal, Jethro gave her a shark's smile, saying, "You'll be the first one I visit, Ms. Rawly."

He watched, powerless, as Tony followed her out to the police car. For a moment, Tony balked at getting inside, clearly remembering what had happened the last time he'd been in one. Though Jethro couldn't hear what she said, he saw the defeated slump to Tony's shoulders as the younger man finally got into the cruiser. Pulling out his cell phone, Jethro didn't even look at the key pad as he speed dialed #1 and brought it to his ear.

"Dr. Mallard speaking."

The cruiser was pulling out of his driveway as Jethro answered, "Ducky, we've got a big problem."

* * * *

Tony fidgeted, looking behind them at his Master's house as it was left behind.

"It's all right, Mr. DiNozzo, you're safe now," Rawly said.

Glaring at her, Tony wanted to exclaim, ëI was safer before you decided to screw around with my life!' but couldn't, knowing it wasn't permitted. Besides which, she honestly thought that she was doing the right thing, so how could he fault her? Especially since it was her job, on top of all the rest. Tony sighed and said, "I know you think that, but it's not true, ma'am. Agent Gibbs is the best thing that ever happened to me and if I'd met him beforeÖeverythingÖI'd still have become his slave. This is a voluntary love match, nothing more, nothing less."

She peered at him intently and Tony tried to make her see he was being truthful by staring right back. Shaking her head, Rawly replied, "The psychologist will make his or her determination."

"What happens if he or she decides that I am unfit?" Tony asked, dreading the answer.

Rawly thought about it, then said, "I suppose you'll be returned to your parents' custody."

A shiver of fear ran through him at the response.

* * * *

Ducky strode swiftly down the corridor, using his umbrella as both cane and people-mover to keep a clear path. Gerald helped that as well, using his height to advantage to loom over people who didn't move fast enough for Ducky's purpose. They arrived at the main office within minutes of parking and Ducky wasn't surprised to find people burning the midnight oil. There was something about abolition that brought out the fanaticism in people, himself included if he was going to be honest about it.

How odd to think that in this particular case, however, he was for slavery. Ever since Tony had signed himself over to Jethro, he'd done a lot of research into the practice of ëvoluntary' slavery, something which he'd never bothered to do before. Ducky had always lumped slavery together in one evil package, though he now knew that wasn't the case.

Voluntary slavery was a tradition that began in ancient Rome when the Empire had legitimized romantic pairings between Master and slave. There had needed to be a way to differentiate the favored slave from others owned by the same Master. Their union was witnessed in the temple of either Minerva, Venus, or Mars with a Claiming before priests or priestesses and the Chain welded around the favored slave's throat. That slave was exalted even over the wife of the house, since too often, marriages were the product of political or social convenience. Not to mention that if the marriage were a true love match, there would be no need for a ëvoluntary' slave to be Claimed and Chained in a Temple.

Striding over to the Supervisor's office, he rapped sharply on the glass that read, ëCarolyn Cohen,' and entered without waiting to be invited, that's how angry he was. The surprisingly young woman seated behind the desk stared at him in surprise, but Ducky ignored the look, putting his approved motion for custody of Tony on her desk and stating, "You will turn Anthony DiNozzo over to me, immediately."

Instantly on the defensive, Carolyn didn't pick up the paper, just crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

"Dr. Donald Mallard," he replied.

Her eyes widened, recognizing his name, and she picked up the papers. Scanning them quickly, she said, "Everything looks to be in order, Dr. Mallard. May I ask what your interest in this case is?"

"You have done a disservice to young Mr. DiNozzo. I have reason to believe that this is not your fault, however, and so will not look to start an investigation into your department."

"A disservice? How? We're freeingÖ"

"Someone who does not wish to be free," Ducky interrupted sharply. "He is in full possession of his mental faculties and understands what he has done. There has been no manipulation here. In fact, Agent Gibbs has been a stabilizing influence on young Mr. DiNozzo, a fact to which many of his former partners and coworkers would attest, given the chance, I'm sure."

Giving him a disbelieving look, Carolyn exclaimed, "I can't believe that you, of all people, would espouse this unnatural course of action, Dr. Mallard."

Almost gently, Ducky pointed out, "I espouse his freedom to choose whatever life he wishes and in this particular case, Mr. DiNozzo freely chooses to devote himself to someone he loves more than life. What can be more natural than that? In addition, as you read in the guardianship papers, there are disturbing factors involving his father that make it imperative Mr. DiNozzo be handed over to me, or returned to his legal owner, Special Agent Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Now. Please have Mr. DiNozzo brought up immediately."

Before she could, however, Gerald called a soft warning of... "Ducky."

Ducky glanced over at his lover as a man his own age with silver hair and elegant clothing stepped inside the office.

"Good evening. I'm here for Anthony DiNozzo," the man stated.

Carolyn snorted. "Who isn't?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Ducky stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Dr. Donald Mallard, guardian pro tempore for Anthony DiNozzo. You are...?"

The man's lips twitched but didn't quite form a scowl as he replied, "Will Hansen, attorney for Robert DiNozzo, who has assumed custody of his son until this matter can be resolved."

"Oh I think not," Ducky countered, reaching over to pick up the custody papers and holding them out.

Will looked them over and this time, a scowl did appear. "As his father, Robert has an automatic entitlement of custody over..."

"Normally, yes," Carolyn interrupted. "In this case, however, irregularities on all sides have been brought to our attention. Dr. Mallard is precisely the sort of guardian we try to arrange for this sort of thing, though in the past we've been unable to do so."

"I'll be filing a motion to negate this custody order first thing in the morning," the lawyer snapped.

Carolyn shrugged. "You are welcome to try, Mr. Hansen."

After he stalked off, Carolyn picked up her phone and made arrangements for Tony to be brought to her office. It was ten silent minutes later that he arrived and Ducky smiled at the relief that flooded Tony's face. The young man threw his arms around Ducky and held tight for a long moment before stepping back, abashed at his actions. Ducky smiled fondly, then asked, "Are you all right, lad?"

"I'll be better once you bring me home," Tony replied softly.

Shaking his head, Ducky explained, "I'm afraid that's not possible just yet, Tony. There is still the investigation to be held and until that's cleared up, you'll be staying with me."

Dismayed, Tony asked, "No Gibbs at all?"

"Unfortunately not," Ducky confirmed. "I won't be able to bring you to work, since that will be within 100 feet of Jethro, so Gerald will stay with you at our house while this is taken care of."

Tony sighed. "Well, thanks for helping. Staying hereÖno offense, ma'am, but this is the last place I want to be."

Bemused, Carolyn replied, "None taken."

"All right, lad, let's be off," Ducky said, guiding Tony to the door where Gerald waited.

Tony offered Gerald a smile of greeting, but reverted to silence the rest of the trip to the car, as well as on the way to their home. Gerald flashed him a few worried looks, but Ducky just patted his hand to reassure him. He was sure that Tony was just figuring out how he felt about this latest snafu in his life, that the young man would bounce back, as he'd done from much worse circumstances.

Once in the home he shared with Gerald, Ducky hid a smile when Tony instantly took off his shoes and socks, a simple declaration of his slavery. He couldn't remember having seen Tony in shoes or socks since knowing him, the traditional slave sandals being his daily outdoor footwear, and barefoot inside. He brought Tony to the guest room, showing him the kitchen and bathroom on the way, and said, "Make yourself at home, Tony. If you need anything, our bedroom is just down the hall here."

Tony offered a shy smile and replied, "Thanks, Ducky. Sorry to be such a bother to you."

"No trouble at all," Ducky stated firmly. "We'll enjoy having you here. Sleep well, my lad."

From there, it was the routine of getting ready for bed after an exceptionally long day. Gerald was watching television in the living room, as he would until well after midnight, being a night owl. He would probably be chatting online with his friends, the internet flirt that he was, as well. Smiling to himself, Ducky thought, And yet it's with me that he shares his bed, every single night.

A fact that he still wondered at, even a year after they'd been together. The handsome, young black man could have his choice of paramours, but he'd wooed Ducky almost from the moment that they'd met. It had been a distinctly odd experience, having only ever been the wooer in the past, but one that he'd thoroughly enjoyed. Still enjoyed, really, since Gerald was terribly romantic and kept buying him presents and surprising him with getaways whenever they had time.

Finished with his nightly ablutions, Ducky climbed into bed and discovered that his mind was racing far too much with what was going with Tony and Jethro, to get any sleep. It was like they just could not catch a break. If he hadn't seen how obvious and true their love was for himself, he'd wonder if they did belong together. They did, though. He wondered at the many varied permutations that love took, knowing that what worked for Jethro and Tony, would never work for himself and Gerald.

Sighing, he got back out of bed and wandered into the living room where Gerald was indeed watching television.

Dark eyes met his and Gerald smiled as he said, more than asked, "Can't sleep?"

Sitting on the sofa beside the taller man, Ducky curled up against his lover and answered, "Not a wink."

Gerald put an arm around his shoulder and Ducky settled in comfortably against him, sighing deeply. There was something solid and reassuring about the young man, as if nothing could move him from Ducky's side; the ultimate immovable object.

Gentle fingers combed through his hair and Gerald ordered softly, "Get some sleep, Ducky. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Closing his eyes and relaxing to the steady rise and fall of his lover's chest, the television mere white noise, Ducky did just that.

* * * *

The meeting with the state appointed psychologist was two awful, lonely days later. Ducky had relayed messages to Tony from Gibbs during that time, and they chatted via the internet, since it wasn't specifically forbidden in the restraining order, but it wasn't nearly the same as being at his Master's side. His sleep patterns were off as well, thanks to the lack of Gibbs in his bed and the unfamiliar surroundings in which he lived, which didn't help matters.

Sitting in the comfortable chair across from the man who was going to decide his fate, Tony made sure not to fidget. Fidgeting implied that he was restless and probably had something to hide. He didn't want this guy to think anything except that he was perfectly happy with his life. Which he would be, if people stopped fucking around with it. "So, what do you want to know?"

If he was surprised or discomforted by the raspy, gravelly quality of Tony's voice, the older man gave no sign of it. Instead, Dr. William Ross offered what seemed a sincere smile as he replied, "What do you want to tell me?"

Tony nearly groaned at the response. He hated shrinks who did this kind of thing. Having discharged his gun and killed in the line of duty, he'd had to go to mandatory counseling and had had a shrink who'd done nothing but counter his questions, with questions, the whole session. Knowing that the man was waiting for an answer, Tony finally said, "Well, I'd like to go back home to Gibbs."

"Your Master."

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

"Because I love him and he loves me."

Instead of openly scoffing, as Tony had more than half-expected, Dr. Ross asked, "How do you know that?"

Tony hesitated, then questioned, "Have you ever been in love, Doctor? Really and truly in love, where you would give your life for the other person?"

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Ross answered honestly. "Though I love my wife deeply and wouldn't want to be parted from her. Are you saying that you would die for Agent Gibbs?"

"As he would, for me," Tony confirmed.

Dr. Ross nodded slowly. "Don't you think that, coming so soon on the heels of a severe trauma as it did, these feelings you have for Agent Gibbs are suspect?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because they aren't. Look, Doc, I'll save you a lot of time and effort, okay?"

"Okay."

"I've always gone military for my lovers; male, female, didn't matter as long as they hadÖauthority," Tony began. "I'm a risk taker and always have been. I'd be the first in the line of fire, the last to leave a burning building, and the longest to stay undercover. I guess you could say that I was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, always pushing the envelope."

"All right."

"When I met Gibbs, it was coming of the worst experience in my life, bar none. You don'tÖyou can't know what it feels like, and even though you think you might be able to empathize, you can't. Unless you've been held down and raped by multiple assailants until you're bleeding and unconscious, your voice gone because you kept screaming and no one came, you can't ever know."

Gravely, Dr. Ross nodded again and acknowledged, "That's true."

Taking a shaky breath, forcing himself to remain calm even as flashes of that time tried to batter their way past his defenses, Tony continued, "Even if none of that had ever happened, if I'd met Gibbs on the street or in the middle of an investigation, the end result would have been the same. I would still have become his slave, because Gibbs is everything that I've ever wanted in a lover. He's not going to let me endanger myself needlessly. He's not going to let me drive myself into the ground with work, or play. He's going to make me keep regular hours and eat right and give me the boundaries that I need. He does all of that and more, and itÖit fills meÖmakes me whole in a way I thought never to be after my time in the Pens."

Thoughtful, Dr. Ross asked, "Are you seeing anyone about the trauma of what happened to you?"

"Not yet," Tony admitted. "I can't even really think about it without breaking down into the screaming Mimi's. Gibbs told me that he'll give me time to deal with it in my own way, to get some distance, but that he does want me to see someone within a year, sooner, if I start to show signs of stress or being unable to cope."

"It sounds like he has your well being at heart," Dr. Ross observed.

Tony smiled, thinking about his gruff Master and the roundabout way they'd had the entire conversation in bed one night, and answered simply, "He does."

There was a long pause as the doctor took in his words, then asked, "What are your plans for the future, Tony?"

Surprised, Tony had to think about it for a moment before explaining, "Well, first I'm going to get certified to work in the field with Gibbs and his team. That was supposed to happen this week, but obviously it hasn't."

Dr. Ross smiled, not put off by Tony's pointed tone. "Which won't happen if you can't pass a psyche eval, even if you do pass the written and physical tests."

Tony grimaced. "Yeah, I know."

"And after that?"

"Work at NCIS with Gibbs."

"Forever?"

"Or until he decides it's time to retire," Tony confirmed agreeably.

"And that doesn't bother you? Having someone else dictate your future?"

Lips twitching into a wry smile, Tony pointed out, "That's what you're doing right now."

Dr. Ross echoed the smile and agreed, "True. But on a more permanent basis, it won't bother you that you'll have no say over how long you'll be working at NCIS? Or, if you even can? What about finances? You've always been independent in that fashion, I presume, so how does it feel to know that you don't control the purse strings anymore? That you'll have to ask for every little thing you want and maybe not get it, if he's in a bad mood, or thinks that it isn't in your best interests?"

Tony grinned. "To be honest, I suck at personal finance. I spend as fast as I get, so it'll be a relief not to worry about that. As for my career? Well, I actually became a cop to piss off my father, who's a blueblood wannabe. I grew to love it, and I do honestly enjoy the challenge of investigative work, but it's not the be-all, end-all for me."

"That would be Gibbs."

"Yes."

"So if he said that you can't ever work another day in your life, what would you do?"

Laughing softly, Tony replied, "Well first, I'd check and see if he had a fever, because Gibbs is a Gunny, and you know how they are about earning your way. But if he was serious about it, for whatever reason, I would ask what he does want me to do, and do it happily, because it makes him happy."

Dr. Ross shook his head and confessed, "I honestly don't know what to make of you, Tony. You seem like a remarkably well-adjusted young man, even if you are repressing a severe trauma, independent, direct and forthright. And yet despite all of that, you're willing to simply turn over control of your life to a man you've known for less than two months. That you had known less than a month, at the time you signed the documents."

"I love him," Tony said simply. "I want to please him and give him that control. Does my wanting that mean I'm somehow psychologically unbalanced? If so, there's a lot of us out there, and you know it."

"People who participate in the D/s lifestyle don't generally sign a legally binding contract putting them forever into slavery."

"Sure they do. You just don't hear about it because it's a frowned-upon lifestyle."

"TonyÖ"

"No, sir, hear me out," Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. At Dr. Ross' nod, he continued, "Because people think they're playing at something, it gets dismissed as somehow less real than a ënormal' relationship. After all, if they were serious about it, wouldn't they just bind themselves over into true slavery to the one they call Master? Well, some of them can't, because of their jobs. Others because of family obligations. Still others can't take that final step because of fear in the system itself, not the one they call Master or slave.

"I lucked out, I truly did, because I know that I will always be taken care of. If, if something happens to Gibbs, I'll be given to Ducky and, if he's incapable, to Gerald. Not a lot of people have that kind of support system to live the kind of life that they truly want to live. And it's a shame, because they're missing out on the kind of total trust and love that comes only when you give yourself over to another person. Again, it's not something you can judge, because you've never experienced it, and it looks like you don't want to," Tony finished, shrugging.

Thoughtful, Dr. Ross said, "Well, you've certainly given me a lot to think about."

"Can I ask you a favor?" Tony requested hesitantly.

"You can ask."

"If, if you do find me incompetent, or unstable, or whatever, can you somehow see to it that I don't go back to my parents?"

"Why not?"

Wrapping his arms around himself, Tony whispered, "Because that would be as bad as being a convict-slave. That would be consigning me to the hell that Gibbs rescued me from."

Frowning, Dr. Ross questioned, "Why do you think that?"

"Because my fatherÖ" Tony pressed a palm into his eye, feeling the beginning of a migraine at the thought of being passed over to his father.

"Tony? Are you all right?"

Forcing himself to continued, Tony said, "Because my father has been doing his best to control me since I was born. If it wasn't for my grandfather, he would have succeeded, and I would never have been allowed to leave the family home. And I use the term ëhome' very loosely. My grandfather is the only one who understands me, well, aside from Gibbs now. I can't wait to introduce them, because I know they're going to just love each other, but there just hasn't been any time, what with him living up in Rhode Island and us being down here."

Dr. Ross went still at that, then asked cautiously, "Tony, has no one told you?"

Apprehension tightened his stomach as Tony countered, just as wary, "Told me what?"

"Your grandfatherÖhe died four months ago."

* * * *

Jethro cursed silently at himself as he strode down the hall that led to Dr. Ross' office. How had no one known that Tony hadn't been told about his Grandfather? Why hadn't he brought up the subject with Tony? Why had he assumed that the other man had known about it and was just not talking, like he'd buried the trauma in the Pens?

It all made perfect sense, now that Jethro had all the facts splayed out in front of him. The Grandfather dies, naming Tony as his sole heir with millions placed in a trust for him. The Father pins Tony for a crime he didn't commit, diverting all his assets to the elder DiNozzo. Once he was declared innocent, though, the money and holdings had reverted right back to Tony, except, really, they would be given to Jethro, as his Master.

"Son of a bitch, you're useless!" Jethro snarled to himself.

There was still the minor matter of why he, as Tony's Master, hadn't been notified of all of this in writing, but Jethro was sure that would come out as ëclerical error,' when really, DiNozzo, Sr. had been behind everything.

Not even slowing down at the secretary's desk, Jethro simply entered the office and looked for his lover. Finding the younger man curled up, knees to his chest and back against the wall, Jethro sighed and wondered silently when the world would cut DiNozzo a break. He gave the man he assumed to be Ross a clipped nod before going to Tony and crouching beside him. With DiNozzo's face hidden from sight, he probably didn't even know that it was Jethro there, and not Ross.

Gripping Tony's shoulder, Jethro said softly, "Tony."

Tony launched himself at Jethro without hesitation, who wound up flat on his ass with his arms around his shaking lover. Holding tight, Jethro rubbed his back and kissed the side of his throat, whispering into his ear, "It's okay, Tony, everything's going to be fine, I promise. You're safe now, no one's going to hurt you."

"He killed him, Master, I know he killed him," Tony exclaimed, pulling back, wild-eyed. "He's been trying for years, and now he's succeeded! He'll go after you next, you're not safe, Master, you have to hide, we have to leave andÖ"

Needing to stop the hysteria before it overwhelmed the younger man, Jethro barked, "Tony!"

Tony cut off his words, but the panic was still visible in his eyes.

"I am not in danger, and neither are you," Jethro lied firmly. Tony was probably right that the next target was him, but Jethro wasn't about to admit it. "You're Father did not kill your Grandfather, it was simply old age and a bad heart. And if you don't believe that, we'll have the body exhumed and Ducky will personally perform an autopsy. I need you to calm down, do you hear me? I need you to keep your wits and be strong for just a little while longer while I deal with your Father."

Swallowing heavily, Tony practically vibrated with the need to flee, but he got himself under control and gave a jerky nod. "Right. Got it, Boss."

"Good. Good boy," Jethro murmured, cupping Tony's face with his hand. Tony leaned into the caress and Jethro smiled, bringing him in for a gentle kiss before asking, "You have it together now?"

The nod was a more certain thing, the second time, and Tony answered, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Or, I will be. Sorry about freaking out like that."

Smiling, Jethro, inclined his head towards the man observing them and pointed out, "It's not me you should apologize to."

Tony groaned in embarrassment and got to his feet, offering a hand up to Jethro. Sliding his arm along Jethro's waist once he was standing, Tony burrowed close and apologized, "I'm so sorry, Dr. Ross. I guess, well, I overreacted."

Shaking his head, Dr. Ross replied, "No need, Tony. And it's good to meet you, Agent Gibbs."

Jethro shook hands with him, liking the open way the doctor looked at him, and answered, "Same here, Doc."

"Well. I see no reason to continue with this charade of an investigation," Dr. Ross continued, surprising them both. "From the interaction I've just witnessed, along with speaking in depth with Tony, I can see that this is a beneficial relationship to both of you, and there was no coercion or manipulation involved, and my report will state just that."

"So I can go home?" Tony asked hopefully.

Smiling, Dr. Ross nodded. "You can go home. Take care of him, Agent Gibbs, he's a special young man."

Jethro briefly echoed the smile and replied, "I intend to, Doctor. Thanks for your help."

* * * *

They made it all the way to the lobby before Jethro was seized by the need to have Tony. It had been over a week, almost two, since they'd done anything physical, thanks to that drug case and then Tony being taken from him. Glancing around the lobby, Jethro spotted a men's room and steered Tony that way. Startled by the change in direction, Tony took one look at Jethro's face and flushed a deep red, knowing exactly what was going to happen. Gooseflesh visibly surfaced on the back of his neck as he shivered.

Before he was even fully into the one-room bathroom, Jethro was on him, taking his mouth in a hard, punishing kiss as he pushed Tony against the wall. Tony moaned, his mouth opening to the onslaught and grabbed Jethro's belt, hauling him in tight. Jethro made short work of Tony's pants, shoving them down along with the boxers, never releasing his lover's mouth from his demanding kiss. Tony's hands were busy as well, yanking Jethro's shirt free to scratch his nails up firm abs to the already hard nipples.

Jethro groaned in need as his hand wrapped around Tony's hard cock, the familiar weight sending a thrill through him. Stroking it slowly, he devoured the breathless gasp his actions provoked, a different thrill taking him as he mastered the man in his arms solely through gentle touches. Tony was utterly pliable in his arms, moving whichever way Jethro directed him, eager for whatever pleased him. Knowing the indomitable heart this man possessed, Jethro tread carefully with this power over Tony, aching with the trust given him; a trust that should have been burned out with everything the younger man had gone through.

Turning Tony so that he was braced over the sink, Jethro grimaced at only having liquid soap on hand as lube and muttered, "Well, at least you'll be clean."

"Master, please, no commentary," Tony pleaded through a groan that was not amused.

Snorting, Jethro squirted some on his fingers and slowly pushed inside his slave's body. Tony hissed at the stretch and spread his legs as much as he could, given the hobble of his pants around his ankles. Bending forward, Jethro sucked and bit at the exposed throat and ears, distracting Tony from the invasion. Hard and leaking, Jethro was desperate to drive into his mate and take him, rutting into the willing body with abandon, but he ruled himself as well and kept a tight control.

This was no Claiming, safe within their home with supplies on hand to care for Tony after, nor a bed to collapse into, once sated. This was a fast, physical reconnection after too long separated, a reminder to Tony that he was cherished and cared for, up to and including preparation after too long without. Finally deeming him ready, Jethro lined up his cock and slowly entered Tony, moving in and out in short increments, reacclimatizing Tony's body to being taken.

Flush against Tony's back at last, Jethro wrapped his arms around Tony's chest and waist, grinding deeper within the tight hole and causing them both to moan. Biting sharply at the vulnerable earlobe, Jethro growled, "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Master!" Tony gasped, head falling back against Jethro's shoulder. "Only you, forever!"

Sucking hard on the exposed throat, Jethro pulled out a short distance and slammed back in, provoking a cry of mixed pain and pleasure from his slave. Moving his lower hand further south, Jethro gripped the leaking cock and pumped it again, counter to his thrusts. It didn't take long to bring them both off, they were too close to the edge, needing each other too badly. Only a few minutes later, feeling the push of orgasm tighten his body, Jethro reached below and rubbed Tony's balls, a sure way to make him come.

Tony jerked hard in his arms as if shot through and cried out, long and loud, coming over the sink and Jethro's hand. The clamping down of Tony's body on his cock sent Jethro over the edge and he bit Tony's shoulder, breaking the skin accidentally as he came, humping into his slave's body and spilling deep inside.

Panting, Jethro removed his mouth, licking the blood from his lips and shuddering in visceral lust at the taste of his slave's blood. Tony moaned weakly as Jethro licked the flat of his tongue over the slowly bleeding wound, his hole spasming around Jethro's cock as he shivered in reaction.

"Gods, Master, what you do to me," Tony whispered, shivering again.

Placing a barely-there kiss to the center of the bite mark, Jethro replied softly, "No more than what you do to me, my own. Hold still, now."

Tony pleaded, "No, don't leave me yet!"

Rubbing his hand over Tony's abdomen, Jethro soothed, "It won't be long before we're home and then we'll be able to do this properly."

Tony sighed, but gave no further protest and Jethro pulled his softened shaft from his lover's body. Turning the other man around, Jethro gathered him close, holding Tony as he sought to keep their connection as long as possible before facing the world again. Several minutes later, Jethro reluctantly pulled back and started the water to clean Tony up enough to get dressed. Wetting a few paper towels, he gently wiped between Tony's ass, then moved to the front to do the same.

Changing his mind at the last moment, Jethro went to his knees and cleaned Tony's cock and balls and abdomen with his tongue. Enjoying every shiver and choked off moan of pleasure, Jethro studied his handiwork; a semi-hard cock and the clean skin around it, with a satisfied nod. He started putting Tony's clothes to rights, lightly batting the younger man's hands away when he tried to help and ordering, "Let me."

That heartbreaking, achingly shy smile surfaced, making Jethro feel about ten feet tall again, and he continued to dress the younger man, interspersing tender kisses to the bare skin before covering it up. Once Tony was dressed, Jethro sped through putting his own clothes together and took a quick look in the mirror. Nodding to himself that they would pass muster, Jethro looked at Tony and winced at the bloody mark on his throat. Shaking his head, Jethro observed, "Ducky's going to kill me when he sees that."

Tony grinned and answered, unrepentant, "I'm sure he and Gerald have their share of, um, over-enthusiasm?"

Jethro mock-growled, swatting Tony on the ass as he commanded, "March, DiNozzo, we have things to do."

Putting his arm around Jethro's waist, Tony managed, somehow, to snuggle up to him fully upright. Jethro couldn't resist kissing the nearest bit of skin he could find and they walked out of the men's room together.

And for the first time since Tony had been taken from him, Jethro smiled.

* * * *

Kate brightened considerably when she saw Tony walking into NCIS behind Gibbs, thinking, Oh thank God! Finally, someone will be able to reel the bastard in!

Out loud, Kate exclaimed, "Tony! You're back!"

Smiling a bit bashfully, Tony nodded and said, "The Doc said we're okay, that no one's going to contest it again."

"Thank God," Kate sighed, heartfelt.

Gibbs arched an eyebrow and asked, "Something you want to share, Agent Todd?"

"Ah, no. Well, except that you have a package," Kate improvised quickly.

A faint smirk signified that Gibbs knew exactly what she'd been thinking, but he let it slide as he headed for his desk.

Ignoring him, Kate turned her full, mother-hen instincts and focus on Tony, ushering him to her desk and sitting him down. She instantly saw the bite mark on his throat and glared briefly at Gibbs before announcing, "I'll get the first aid kit. Don't you move, Tony."

He offered a humorous salute, which caused her to grin, and waited docilely at her desk while she raided the kitchen for the first aid kit. Coming back to the office area, she found Gibbs had taken her spot and was about to demand that he move so she could tend to Tony when she realized that the man in question was shaking in his Master's arms. Frowning, she opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Gibbs shook his head and mouthed, ëGet Ducky.'

Moving quickly to Gibbs' phone, she called Ducky and asked him to get up there as quickly as he could. It was only a few minutes later that the elevator door opened and the ME came onto the office floor, joining them swiftly. "What's the matter?"

Gibbs finally moved back from Tony and Kate could see that the younger man had tears on his face, which he quickly wiped away. Clearing his throat, Tony asked, "I'm going to have my grandfather's body exhumed, Ducky, would you do the autopsy for me?"

Though surprised, Ducky nodded. "Of course, Tony. It would be an honor to assist you. What was the reported cause of death?"

"A stroke," Gibbs answered when Tony seemed incapable. "Though a heart attack was reported in the papers and police reports."

"Oh dear. I can see where an irregularity that big would want you to have the case, ah, looked at with fresh eyes," Ducky finished, as diplomatically as possible.

With a wan smile, Tony nodded and settled against Gibbs' side, resting his head on his Master's shoulder.

"Can I treat him now?" Kate asked, meanly enjoying Gibbs' flinch when Ducky looked intently at them.

"Treat him for what?"

Tony flushed and turned so that Ducky could see the bite mark on his throat. Ducky's jaw tightened and he glanced at Gibbs with a stern, "Jethro, a moment if you please?"

Even the look that promised retribution tossed her way by Gibbs wasn't enough to diminish her pleased grin. It wasn't often that she could get Gibbs in trouble with Ducky, but it was fun, each and every time.

"What'd you do that for?" Tony hissed.

Kate waved a hand in Gibbs and Ducky's direction and answered, "Because he needs to come down a couple of pegs now and again and Ducky's the only one who can do it. Now then. Let's get you clean up."

Tony grimaced, but didn't try to get out of it as she set the first aid kit on the desk.

It didn't take long to clean and bandage the bite and when she was done, Kate said softly, "I'm sorry about your Grandfather, Tony, truly."

He offered her a soft smile and replied, "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me."

Feeling a lot like she'd discovered the cure to cancer at that look, Kate straightened a little and patted his non-bitten shoulder with, "Same here, DiNozzo, same here."

* * * *

Tony waited outside the morgue for the okay to go in and see his grandfather's body. His Master was already in there with Kate, Ducky and Gerald, but he'd been asked by Gibbs to wait outside until it was done. And, since he really wanted to keep the image of his grandfather intact, Tony had had no problem with the exclusion. Finally, the door opened and Kate stuck her head out, motioning for him to come in.

When he entered the cool room, Tony found the others gathered around a slab covered by a sheet. Tony braced himself and walked over to Gibbs, asking, "Did you find anything?"

Ducky countered his question with one of his own. "Did your grandfather have any fatal allergies?"

Surprised, Tony nodded and replied, "A few, yeah. Peanuts and bee stings, which I guess are pretty common, but also sesame. Made going out a real pain in the ass. He always had to be sure they didn't use any sesame oil in the meal, from preparation on out. One of the reasons that we mostly ate in, or went to restaurants that already knew how to prepare his food. Why?"

"I'm afraid that neither report was correct, Tony," Ducky answered gently. "Your grandfather died from anaphylactic shock. And given the irregularities of the reports filed, the investigation is being reinvestigated by an independent authority."

Looking to Gibbs, Tony repeated, "Independent authority?"

"Empire authority," Gibbs explained shortly.

That explained the scowl on his Master's face. Tony was sure that he'd have wanted to be in on the investigation, but the Empire agents were above all agencies in authority and never included ëthe locals,' even when ëlocal' meant Federal; sometimes especially so. They were usually only employed on high-profile cases and, Tony realized with a start, his Grandfather qualified. The old man had been in the Empire employ during the fifties, while building his company from the ground up with contracts through the international, Imperial channels. Shaking off his surprise, Tony asked, "Any timeline for when they're taking over?"

"As of right now," a new voice said from behind.

They all turned to find two men in plain clothes standing by the door. The older one was in his forties, nondescript with brown hair and eyes. The younger was in his early thirties and could've been a clone for the first, save a minor trend towards being handsome. They were both dressed in the standard black suit and overcoat; the original Men In Black.

"William Folson and Gary Ravasti," the older man introduced. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Agent Gibbs, Dr. Mallard. We like to look after our own, even if they've been out of the fold for a while. There will be a full-fledged, protective detail on you and your slave, Special Agent Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs, you may dismiss your own. If you'll turn over the information that you've collected so far, we'll get started."

Tony's eyebrows rose in shock and then horror as he realized that they truly believed that his father was behind this, or the detail wouldn't be necessary. His mouth stayed shut only due to the swift warning glance from Gibbs. Tony shifted closer to his Master, grateful for the strong arm that went around his waist, implicit approval to fold into his embrace if he wanted. Which he did, but showing that kind of weakness in front of Imperial authority would reflect badly on Gibbs, so he remained standing straight.

"Will you be keeping us apprised?" Gibbs questioned.

"We will. And, too, we'll need to question your slave in detail, preferably as soon as possible," Folson continued.

Gibbs nodded impassively. "Of course. Now should be fine. Tony, would you follow Folson and Ravasti to whatever conference room they've commandeered?"

It was an order, not a request, and Tony nodded submissively, determined to put Gibbs in a positive light, if he possibly could. Following the younger agent out, Tony caught his Master's gaze just before the door closed and was buoyed by the brief smile on his face.

Sitting at the conference room table not five minutes later, Tony kept his eyes on the wooden veneer, waiting to be addressed.

Ravasti set a cup of coffee in front of him and announced, "Feel free to look at me and interact as you would with your Master, Tony."

Taking the man at his word, Tony looked up and offered a faint smile, observing, "It's going to be a long night."

"And an even longer week," Ravasti allowed, almost apologetic. "We've been trying to bring your father down for a long time now."

It was hard to hear, even knowing personally that his father was no saint. Of course, he hadn't realized that murdering his own father-in-law would figure among Robert DiNozzo's crimes, either, but still. Clearing his throat, Tony said, "I don't know what I can tell you. I haven't spoken to my father in a number of years. There were a few emails now and again, mostly demanding that I show up at some function or other, but that's about it."

"You let me worry about the relevancy."

And with that, Ravasti led him through a long, intensive interrogation that, Tony was sure, yielded even more information than he would ever know. What they would do with that information, he had no idea, but he didn't really want to know, either. It was a few hours, and several cups of coffee later, that the door opened to let in Gibbs and Folson. Tony winced when his Master's gaze lingered on the multiple, empty cups and apologized, "Sorry, Master."

Ravasti looked between them and Gibbs explained, "I'll never get him to sleep now."

"Ah. Well, you're welcome to bring him home and try," Ravasti replied. "We're done."

"You'll be escorted to your house and agents will be with you until I deem it safe to remove them," Folson stated, clearly expecting no argument.

Tony was a little surprised that Gibbs didn't give him one, his Master instead holding his hand out to Tony, who hopped to his feet and hurried to Gibbs' side. "I'll be waiting for your updates with bated breath."

And if the agents noticed Gibbs' sarcasm, neither commented.

* * * *

Licking his way up Tony's spine, Jethro continued to trace abstract designs in the pliant body beneath him with his tongue, enjoying the shivers and panting as Tony strained not to come, even with the help of a cock-ring. Jethro already had twice already, tormenting his slave for the last two hours, using his body against him in the most deliciously evil of ways. Tony's voice had given out about an hour ago and only hoarse whimpers rang through the air now as Jethro's fingers pushed easily into his hole, stretching him further.

He rolled Tony to his back, grinning almost maliciously at the way his slave flopped over, boneless save for his cock, which stood hard and leaking. Jethro shifted down and took the erection in his mouth, sucking hard enough to provoke a desperate shout as Tony arched up, thrusting wildly and blindly into the wet heat Jethro's mouth provided.

Letting go his treat, Jethro moved swiftly up, using his arms to push Tony's legs out and up as his cock rammed hard inside his slave. Tony howled wordlessly, the noise practically painful to hear. He clawed at and simultaneously pushed away Jethro, as he pounded repeatedly against Tony's prostate. Humping ruthlessly into Tony, Jethro pulled the ring off and shouted, "Come, my own!"

Before his words were done, Tony's legs locked around his shoulders and he came, spilling long and copiously. Some of it hit Jethro in the face, though most spurted to the side and onto the bedspread. The vice-like clamping of Tony's body on Jethro's shaft sent him over the edge and he came again, grinding as deep into his slave as he possibly could, mindless in his rutting need to brand this man as his with his seed, as he would, one day soon, with metal and fire.

When the world returned, Jethro found himself held tight in Tony's arms, the younger man crying softly. Instantly worried, furious with himself for having misjudged so badly and hurting the man who trusted him most, Jethro pushed onto his elbows, breaking the hold on him carefully. "Tony, my own, don't move. I'll call an ambulance."

"No!" Tony exclaimed, his fingers tightening on Jethro's back. In a barely recovered voice, he rasped, "I'm not hurt, I promise, Master. I'm just...I guess...everything's finally caught up to me."

Relaxing a hair, Jethro took a good, long look at his lover's woebegone face and easily identified betrayal, pain, and good, old-fashioned anger in his changeable eyes. With a relieved sigh, Jethro rolled them so that Tony lay on him and wrapped his arms around the younger man. Kissing his temple, Jethro whispered, "It's okay to cry, my own. It's good to let all that shit out."

Cheek pressed to Jethro's chest, Tony whispered back, "It hurts, Master, so bad. I lost...everything...and all because of his greed."

Jethro didn't need to ask who they were talking about. Staring up at the ceiling, he struggled to put into words his own feelings, hoping the admission wouldn't hurt Tony further. "I would never, never have you put through anything like what you went through in the Pens, Tony. Never. Not even for what we have. But...at the same time...we never would have met, had you not gone through that. I can't be sorry that we met, because you complete me."

"Not sorry, either," Tony whispered. "Not for any of it. Just...he's my father, Master. Of all people to set me up...and killing Grandfather..."

Combing his fingers through the still-sweaty hair, Jethro soothed, "It'll be all right. Justice will be served, Tony, I swear it."

"Are you psychic now?" Tony questioned, half-sarcastic, half-teasing.

Relieved even more by the tone, and the faint glimmer of peace as Tony relaxed further against him, Jethro smiled and kissed his lips lightly. "In this case, yes. Get some sleep, my own. It's going to be a long week."

Tony yawned and nodded, kissing his throat before his breathing evened out into that of a deep, exhausted sleep.

Jethro continued to stare at the ceiling, vowing that Justice would indeed be served, even if he had to wield the blade into Robert DiNozzo's gut himself.

* * * *

He didn't have to, fortunately, because four days later, Folson showed up in the office and motioned Jethro towards a conference room. Following the other man inside, Jethro said, more than asked, "You got him?"

"Yes," Folson answered simply. "But we wouldn't have, if you hadn't noticed the irregularities in the autopsy reports."

"Out of curiosity, how did that get missed?"

"Human error. It happens, even to the Empire."

Gibbs smirked a little and observed, "That must've hurt to admit."

"Excruciating," Folson confirmed, grinning a bit.

Turning serious, Jethro asked, "So what now?"

Folson sighed. "You'll want to make sure Tony keeps away from the news for the next two weeks until after the execution."

"Why so long?" Jethro questioned.

Folson grimaced and replied, "Pomp and circumstance. Family murder. The Emperor's fury. Take your pick. It's going to be very gruesome and extremely public."

"Thanks for the warning."

"You're welcome. If you need a favor in the future..."

"Don't worry," Gibbs assured him with a wry grin. "I won't call you."

Folson gave him an honest smile as they shook hands. "Thanks."

* * * *

The reporters had been thick and relentless over the last three weeks and Tony would've taken a swing at one, save for knowing how pissed his Master would be if he did. Not to mention, he really didn't want anyone except his Master beating his ass black and blue and if he did strike a freeman, well, the best he could hope for was public humiliation. That wasn't something he would bring down on his Master.

So they ignored the jerks that did their best to peep in the windows and watched DVDs exclusively, when they weren't making love or working on Gibbs' boat in the basement. Aside from the fact that he was essentially hiding out from his father's execution, Tony could have looked on those three weeks as a kind of honeymooned bliss. He knew they were both safe now and could start to live their lives without fear of any further interference.

Best of all, Gibbs had left the planning of their trip to Italy completely in his hands. It was a mere five weeks away and they would be on a plane to Rome. Despite everything that had happened to him, Tony knew he wouldn't change a thing if it meant he and Gibbs never got together.

"You look deep in thought."

Smiling, Tony glanced over at where his Master had stopped his sanding to look at him. "Just planning our trip."

"I don't see one of those infernal iPod things in your hand," Gibbs observed.

Tony laughed and corrected, "Palm Pilot. iPods are for music."

"Whatever."

"Mental planning," Tony explained.

"More like brooding," Gibbs corrected, setting his tools down to walk over to Tony at the old desk. Straddling Tony's lap, Gibbs put his arms over Tony's shoulders and asked, "You want to turn in early tonight?"

Pretending to think it over, Tony laughed again when his Master growled, playfully offended. As warm, loving lips covered his own, Tony thought, No, I wouldn't trade this for anything.