Rating: FR13 (for first 4); FR21 (for last 1)
Disclaimer: I'm not Bellesario or CBS, so I don't claim to own them.
Genre: 4 Gen Drabbles and 1 Slash Drabble; Five Things Fic
Word Count: 1,500 (1x100; 1x200; 1x300; 1x400; 1x500)
Crossposted: ncisfanfic; ncis_fic; gibbs_dinozzoncis_slash
Summary: Five times the world was never blessed with a Very Special Agent named Tony DiNozzo.
"You. Will. Not. Die." The words were punctuated with a tap to the top of his head.
He tried to speak but coughed up blood instead.
Finally, he croaked out, "Don't think ordering me will work."
"Was gonna offer you a job. Weren't supposed to get shot."
"Wasn't planning on it," and he coughed again. "But thanks for the job offer."
"I'll get the bastard, DiNozzo. Just get your ass better so it's in a desk at NCIS on Monday morning," Gibbs added as the paramedics pushed him aside.
"On it- Boss," and that was the last thing he said.
They stared at each other across the table, neither willing to give the other any ground. The only sound was the occasional clink of the metal cuffs against the chair that could not be avoided, no matter how still the man remained.
"Why?" It was a simple question, but the answer was anything but.
"Because you thought you could take the law into your own hands and come out clean on the other end."
"Never thought I'd come out clean. Knew you were too good. But you can't sit there and tell me you wouldn't have- no, make that haven't done the exact same thing. I can see it in your eyes. You got your revenge and now you're judging me on taking out my own."
The cop had a point, but Gibbs' hands were tied. DiNozzo was going down for taking out his partner's killer. If only he wasn't the one that had to do it.
"Could have used a guy like you on my team."
"Yeah, I don't see that happening anytime soon. I hear I get a cell instead of a fed's badge."
"I'll put in a good word for you," and the interview was over.
"You've hit me on the back of the head five times in the last day. You dressed me down in front the witness. You didn't have one good thing to say to me, even after I cracked the damn case. Do you need me to continue?" he finished with a pointed look.
"I don't know what world you live in Special Agent Gibbs, but in the real world that is not the way to go about conducting a job interview."
The Special Agent just stared with a hardened expression. "And they treat you better here?" he finally ground out. "From what I see, you're one more reprimand from applying for a private dick's license."
"Rather work for myself than work for a bastard like you. I figure there's a reason that only the ME and the lab chick work with you. Otherwise, someone with a solve rate as high as yours would be beating NCIS badge holders off with a stick. Instead, you're here trying to browbeat a cop into working for you."
"Feds make more money than any city precinct can pay you."
That caused the cop to snort. "If I was looking for money, I would have toed the line with my father. Plus, if you'd done your homework, I don't need the money. Got a nifty little trust fund from my mom that I started received payouts from five years ago. Only smart thing she ever did. How else did you think I could be standing here ruining $600 Italian leather shoes in the rain?"
Gibbs' face revealed nothing, but his eyes told another story.
"Why don't you do us both a favor and head back to DC and find some poor sap to take your frustrations out on. I'd rather stay put."
And that was it.
"They're looking at it all wrong," the voice startled Gibbs as he glanced over at the man kicked back on the single couch in the safe house.
"What's wrong, DiNozzo?" Gibbs barked, hoping that the young business man wasn't blowing smoke out his ass.
"The FBI. Been telling them since they kidnapped me that the man that killed my father a week ago and that just killed your General is not some 80-year-old guy out to reclaim his glory days as your famed killer for hire. It's a Dread Pirate Roberts scenario."
"The Princess Bride, 1987. Many might think it was a chick flick, but it works for guys too. Just the right balance," and Gibbs gave him a hard look. "Yeah, okay, well, the Dread Pirate Roberts was just the name. Every so many years, the current Roberts would find some young guy who he liked and train him. Then he would pass the torch and retire, letting the young guy take over while he was living like a king. They should be looking for some twenty-something-year-old just starting out in the biz. Told them that on Monday."
"Damn it! I'm taking his case over too," Gibbs barked at the useless FBI agents sitting around. "Don't care if his dad wasn't military. DiNozzo! With me!"
Tony scrambled off the couch to follow the gruff NCIS agent. "Finally! Been wanting out of this joint for five days. You gonna let me go home? I missed two dates already and with my dad's death, I need to make sure the company's still standing. Not to mention I don't have a hit out on me, unlike dear old dad did."
"You're with me until I've got this bastard, DiNozzo. Now put yourself to use and tell me who put the hit on your old man."
"You know I'm not an agent right? And I'm not looking to switch careers anytime soon. I have expensive tastes and I don't think a government paycheck will float me. Not to mention I don't follow the rules."
Gibbs leveled Tony with his best, 'do I look like I care,' glare and then floored the gas pedal.
"Consider yourself conscripted for the duration of this case, DiNozzo. Now get me my answers!"
"As long as we're clear I'm outta here when this is over," Tony said around a winsome smile. "You see, Boss, it started with..."
"We can't do this," Gibbs ground out as he shoved a non-cooperating DiNozzo off of him.
"Why the hell not?" Tony huffed out as he leaned back in for another kiss. "You're willing. I'm more than willing. What's stopping this from happening?"
"Rule Twelve," Gibbs said shortly.
"So what's Rule Twelve? Don't fuck against a wall? If that's the issue, there's a perfectly good hotel bed over there."
"It's 'never date a co-worker,' DiNozzo," Gibbs barked as he disentangled himself again.
"In case you didn't notice, Gibbs, I have a detective's shield, not a fed's. So we're not co-workers."
"Yet?" Tony questioned. "Is this your way of offering me a job? Gotta tell you, it's not the best hiring technique there, Boss. You're supposed to have sex with the guy who's interviewing. Let him earn his place," Tony finished with a leer as he moved back in on Gibbs.
"You already earned the place, DiNozzo. It's why this can't happen."
"You're assuming I'll say yes to the job, Gibbs. And if my choices are work for you or have my brains fucked out you, then I'm going with the latter. Screw the job."
"But-" Gibbs started only to be cut off.
"No buts," Tony said pressing forward to grasp Gibbs' shirt collar. "I'm saying no to the job. I'll transfer to DC Metro or something, or go FBI if you want me to be a fed. But you are fucking me tonight and I plan to give you a blowjob at some point too. Then tomorrow I'll fuck you. From there, we'll play it by ear, but there will be a lot of fucking, Jethro."
"I liked the sound of Boss better," Gibbs said almost petulantly.
"I'll call you Boss if you want, Boss," Tony said with a nip to Gibbs' ear. "Just not at work. Then your precious rule won't be broken. Now how about we try that bed out."
Gibbs didn't say anything, but he followed Tony's lead as he pulled over to the inviting king sized mattress. Shirts, pants and underwear were tugged off around kisses and lingering touches. It wasn't long before Gibbs was pressing Tony into the mattress, their erections rubbing between them.
"So what you going to do to me, Boss?" Tony whispered. "I want to know every detail."
"You'll feel every detail," Gibbs punctuated with a hard thrust. "Give me that bottle of lube."
Soon, slick fingers were pressed inside of Tony and he was groaning around Gibbs' mouth that had latched on to his own.
"I'm ready," Tony huffed out. "Fuck me already, Boss."
And Gibbs complied. He started with a slow and deep thrust that increased with each withdrawal.
"God, Tony," and then they were both grunting as they came.
It seemed like hours later that Tony surfaced from a very happy place to find Gibbs idly running a hand through Tony's hair.
"Like that, Boss," Tony drawled out.
"Yeah. And don't go to the FBI. Fornell can't have you."