"That was your uncle John. A marine and a hell of a man. Where Leroy gets it from."

Tony ran a finger over the picture of a man that died before he was born, a man that he looked so much like. "You knew when I showed up. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Figured Leroy wasn't ready to know and figured you would be back. I saw the look in your eyes when you walked in here for the first time. You have your mom's eyes."

"Wouldn't know. She died when I was five and my father had a string of trophy wives after that that looked nothing like her. I just got this diary and the name of a town. Was it a one night stand?"

"More like a week. A week that probably shouldn't have happened, but everything has a reason and I guess you were it."

"When I first met Gibbs in Baltimore, there was this connection. Couldn't explain it, but I felt like I knew him and could trust him. In the seven years we've worked together, I still couldn't figure it out. Then I read this," he tossed the diary on the counter. "When she said my birth father was from Stillwater, I knew it wasn't a coincidence. Gibbs doesn't believe in them and neither do I. There was still a lot of a leeway for it to be someone else, but I just knew. You know?"

"Yeah son, I do," Jackson said as he placed a firm hand on Tony's shoulder.

Tony looked into Jackson's eyes for several long moments before disrupting the moment by running a hand haphazardly through his hair. He began to pace as he said, "Son. I'm your son. Bet you never left Gibbs in a hotel in a Hawaii or made him carry the crap bucket for the reenactments." He stopped pacing and looked back at Jackson with a bit of awe and a lot of fear. "You're my dad."

“Damn it!” Tony shouted out as he swung his fist toward the wall of the hospital waiting room. He stopped just short of hitting it, holding his arm taut with pent up anger. After a few calming breaths, he brought his closed fist to his forehead and opened it to scrub his hand down his face and back up through his hair. “Why isn’t he here dealing with it? I can’t deal with it. I can’t,” he said quietly.

After a few more breaths, he pulled his cell phone out. “If he’s not dealing then I guess I have to,” he mumbled as he jabbed the first stored speed dial entry and waited for the man on the other end to pick up.

“Gibbs,” came the short, barked answer.

“Hey Boss. Would ask you where you’re at, but knowing you, you’re with that damn boat when you should be down here at the hospital. Oh, she’s going to be just fine, eventually, or so the doctors say. Thanks for asking.”

“DiNozzo,” the voice was lacking its normal menace when saying his last name.

“Look Gibbs-- Jethro,” Tony took a calculated risk, since he rarely called Gibbs Jethro. “She needs you down here. I-- Damn it, we both need you down here.”

“I can’t Tony,” the voice sounded so hurt and defeated that if Tony hadn’t known different, he would swear it wasn’t Gibbs’ voice. “I can’t deal with losing--"

Tony heard the sound of something breaking on the other end of the phone. He was suddenly torn between staying at the hospital with Abby or going to the basement of Gibbs’ house and trying to comfort the older man.

“Mr. DiNozzo?” the outside voice jarred Tony and he realized that Gibbs had disconnected from the phone call.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Tony said quietly as he stared at the phone.

“She’s awake and asking for you and a Mr. Gibbs.”

“If it’s alright, I’ll go see her. Just show me where.”

“Follow me,” the older nurse said gently taking his elbow to lead the way down the corridor. He hovered outside the door before summoning the courage to walk inside.

“Hey dark-haired girl,” he said in a quiet greeting.

A pale face looked up at him and he could see tears trapped within the eyes under the dark lashes. “Hey Tony,” Abby said just as quiet.

He made it to the bed and took her hand in his before leaning down and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I know it’s stupid to ask how you’re doing, but it’s all I can think of at the moment.”

Abby gave a small snort as she squeezed his hand. “You’re right DiNozzo, it is stupid. Where’s Gibbs?”

Tony turned his head down and to the right as several lies ran through his mind; Gibbs is getting coffee, we got a case, the car broke down… but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them.

“Where else would he be when he should be here with us?” Tony said with a touch of bitterness.

“The boat,” Abby said with force. “I don’t need him here anyway. I’m okay. Gonna be just fine. Why don’t you go home Tony?”

Tony sucked in a quick breath of air as his heart clenched. “I’m not going anywhere Abby. You need me here.”

“No I don’t Tony. I just want to be left alone. I just-- Just leave me alone right now. I mean, I don’t even know how you can stand to look at me. It’s all my fault. Probably why Gibbs is with the boat. Bet he can’t even look at me now.”

Abby yanked her hand away from Tony’s and shifted so she was turned away from him.

“Abs, none of this is your fault and you know Gibbs doesn’t think that,” he tried to reason with her.

“If he doesn’t think that, then why isn’t he here? You should take a cue from Gibbs, Tony, and get out of here. Not good to hang around a killer.”

“Abby!” he said sharply. “It’s not your damn fault you lost the baby.”

Anthony watched as William looked around the packed room. Save for the furniture, everything that had once defined the room as belonging to someone had been placed in boxes or bags. All that remained, looking as immaculate as the day they were purchased, were the four-poster bed, dresser and nightstand.

"Can't believe you're actually doing it," William said softly as he perched on he bed. "You've got more guts than I do."

Anthony snorted. "Not really guts. It's more like the old man gave me no choice. I'm just lucky he signed the documentation to show I was legally emancipated and officially disowned. They wouldn't have given me the scholarship otherwise and then I would have been stuck at Harvard with you, bored out of my mind."

"Stuck with me wouldn't have been all that bad," William said suggestively. "I'm sure we could have found something to do."

"I'm gonna miss yah man," Anthony said as he stretched out beside William on the bed. "Sure Ohio State won't work for you too?"

"I can't make it without the purse strings like you can, Anthony. And I think we'd kill each other if we were together all the time."

"But it'd be a hell of a way to go," Anthony said as he rolled over and placed a hard kiss to William's lips.

Not one to be passive, William rolled Anthony back over and straddled his hips. He grasped Anthony's wrists within his own hands and pushed them onto the mattress above Anthony's head. Then he rubbed his pants covered hard on against the matching one sported by Anthony.

Anthony let out a groan. "This'll be the last night we have to do this for a long time," he breathed out. "Not sure if I'll be able to come back for breaks. My father probably won't pay for it."

"Then we'll have to make it good," William said as he leaned in for another kiss.

Their talking ceased as William's hands began to roam Anthony's body. They were both achingly hard and were all to soon forgoing the foreplay in order to reach their goal.

Clothes were discarded to the floor and they pressed their bodies together. Anthony kept his hands above his head as William reached between their bodies and firmly gripped their cocks together.

Using their pre-come, William set a fast pace as he slid his hand over both of their cocks. Anthony writhed beneath him, small whimpers escaping his lips.

"Almost there," he huffed out as William's thumb brushed over the head of his cock. "Just-"

Anthony's voice cut off and he moaned through his release. His come mingled with William's, coating their stomach's and William's hand.

Thirty minutes later, Anthony rolled over in the arms that were wrapped tightly around him and placed a brief kiss to William's mouth. Then he leaned back and looked deeply into William's eyes, searching for something.

"I want you to fuck me," he finally said as he continued looking straight at William.

"But… You sure? We've never done-"

"Done it. I know. But I want you to." Anthony leaned in for another kiss, but William pulled back.

"Why now?"

"Cause," Anthony responded stubbornly.

"Cause why?" William continued to press.

"Cause I want you to be my first, damn it. I'm going out to God knows where and I won't know a fucking person. And, you know me, I'm gonna find trouble on my own. I don't want my first time to be because I was stupid and got drunk and let some dude take my ass. So will you fuck me?"

He'd become complacent. That's the only excuse he could find for the reason he just blurted the question out of his mouth without checking with his brain. As soon as the words were out there, he wanted to rewind the last few seconds and do it over again. But in real life, that was not possible. So, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable response of, "You want to do what?!" followed by him being kicked out of bed.

The silence stretched in the room and he almost cracked his eyes open to see if his partner was asleep. But that was just wishful thinking on his part, because all too soon he heard the gruff voice answer.

"Been a while, but yeah. Didn't get the impression you were into it, but..."

And the invitation was left hanging in the open and he had no idea what to do with it. Nothing in his life had prepared him to deal with someone answering that question in the affirmative. He floundered.

"I'm not- I mean, I've never- It's not what you think. I just-" he couldn't find the right words and his partner took obvious pity on him.

A calloused finger was pressed against his lips before it trailed a path over his stubbled jaw.

"You've never done it, but always wanted to? Right?"

"Something like that," he mumbled quietly. Then he went on the defensive. "Hell, why are we even talking about this? Forget I said anything and let's go to sleep. Boss'll chew my ass out if I'm late," he added in a teasing tone, hoping the previous topic was dead was buried.

Blue eyes bore into him, before acquiescing. "Night, Tony," the voice said softly as a kiss was pressed to his forehead.

“Will you sit down!” Gibbs barked at the pacing man, adding a customary head slap for emphasis.

Anthony stopped moving and turned nervous eye on the older man. “Can I maintain my royal dignity and admit to being scared as the nine hells, Captain?”

“Only if you had any dignity to begin with… and you didn’t,” Gibbs said around a grin.

“Thank you for your faith in my confidence. What about you? Are you ready to be married?”

“I’m already married to you and did not even give my consent. What is one more? And let us not forget that it is you she will be married to. I’m just the mistress.”

Anthony snorted. “More like I am the mistress. Everyone knows that I follow your lead.”

“You shouldn’t,” Gibbs said softly as he fingered the scar that trailed down Anthony’s neck. “I am not and never will be cut of the right cloth for royalty no matter who my father was.”

“You are if the King says you are and since I am the King,” Anthony trailed off and gave his lover a pointed look.

“Whatever Your Highness wishes,” Gibbs said with annoyance.

Anthony studied the stoic face in front of him in an attempt to decipher the older man’s emotions. “Is that how you think of me? Your Highness?”

“I’m a military man and all this,” Gibbs stopped to gesture at his silken outfit, “- this fluff is not me.”

Anthony gave a small smile before wrapping strong arms around his lover. “Would it help if I told you that the fluff makes you look good?”

Gibbs gave a low grunt that Anthony translated as a maybe.

“I hate it too, Gibbs, but short of dragging Jimmy back from the desert and his precious Ziva, I have to put up with it. And having you around makes it bearable.”

“And now we will have Caitlin too,” Gibbs said as he pulled back. “How is this three-way marriage supposed to work?”

“Guess we will figure it out as need be. I hope that she will be open to sharing her bed with both of us.”

“And if she’s not?” Gibbs asked quietly.

“If she is not, then I will do my duty for securing an heir and she will live without me gracing her bed.”

Before they could continue the conversation, a knock on the door signaled it was time to make their entrance.

Jethro wanted nothing more than to stand up and stretch in order to relieve the tension throughout his body, but that was not a possibility. Instead, he remained as he had been directed, on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back.

The cuffs were of the standard issue steel variety that accompanied every slave sold from centers across the States. They were separate for each wrist with a locking mechanism that could link them together when needed. A chain had been added to the cuffs that connected to the similar ankle cuffs he also wore. This left him essentially hogtied and unable to even crawl if he had tried to.

There was little for him to do but ride out the cramps his position brought and hope that his new master would arrive shortly and order him into a different position. He'd even take a hard fucking to this.

He flicked his eyes upwards while keeping his head bowed in an attempt to learn anything about his unnamed master. But other than a taste for dark, solid wood furniture and the sight of a few expensive items, there wasn't much to glean from the office room.

He'd been unable to see any other part of the house upon his arrival. He'd found over the years that the Slave Center agents like to keep a slave in the dark, literally. This time, he'd had a hood locked to his collar. Not only had it kept his vision blocked, but it had hampered his breathing enough to make him uncomfortable. But he didn't complain, lest they add a gag to the unwanted attire.

In his roughly twenty years as a slave, Jethro had learned to adapt. Rule number one to survival as a slave was, don't put up a fight. If you fought free people on anything, especially the little stuff, it just led to more trouble for yourself. It was hard to repress those urges when being locked in bondage, fucked or whipped, but Jethro had learned to do it. He'd seen the final result of slaves who tried to resist and he didn't want to end that way.

Instead, he gathered as much as he could on those who had control over him. Once he had the intel, he could subtly manipulate things to go his way. To a free person, what he got through hours of observation would be nothing. However, to a slave, things like his own room with a bed, a hot shower and extra food were luxuries not to be taken for granted.

The one thing he hadn't been able to control was when his owners tired of him. At twenty, he'd been a hot commodity. He had been a Marine and had the body to prove it. The men with the money to buy him had relished in their control over someone who could have easily taken them in a fight.

Now, at forty, he had figured that this last trip to the center would be his last. It was no secret that slaves past their prime or in poor health were not marketable and therefore dead weight to the system. He'd heard the tales his first time in the system of slaves being led from the holding cells, never to return. The tales were confirmed when part of the initial training led the newly enslaved to the crematorium at the back of the center.

He repressed a shudder just thinking about it. This morning, when the agents came to retrieve him from his cell, he had told himself he wouldn't fight what was about to come, even when they placed the hood over his head. He'd been placed in a wheeled cage for transportation and listened as the agents joked about his age and pending demise.

"Bet this one can't even get it up anymore."

"Not like he needs to anyway. I still think they should just castrate them all and be done with it. But where this one's going, neither really matter."

"Got that right, Jim. Too bad we can't give him a ride before we get rid of him. That ass still looks tight, even for his age."

"If only... But you know sampling can land you in chains yourself. Not worth it when you can just go down to the local bar and find some leftovers there."

"Damn straight. You been to McGinty's? There's a hot piece of..."

Knowing now that the agents were leading him on, Jethro wished there was a way he could retaliate, but it wasn't possible. Instead, he was forced to remain naked and on his knees, waiting for whoever his next master would be.

"Dad! Take me to see him! Now!" Tony's voice echoed through the entranceway.

"Junior! You're an hour late. Made me lose a bet with my dear wife and you know I hate to lose."

"I've told you not to call me Junior, Dad. You remind me too much of him and then I can't tell which of you I hate the most."

Tony's dad crossed the room and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "How about we have a chat over by the fire. It's been years since we've seen each other."

Tony held back a growl. "I didn't come to chat and you damn well know it. I want- need to see him."

"Seeing him won't change what happened, Anthony," his dad said solemnly.

"No," Tony admitted, refusing to sound defeated. "But you can."

"I can't and you damn well know that."

"You mean you won't. You've done it before. I may not have been the best at reading the stories, but I do know that much. You can send him back."

"You dating anyone, Tim? You've been kind of quiet lately."

It was rare for Tony to use his first name and Tim was deeply pleased to hear it.

"Not lately. Got my eye on someone though," he added, knowing Tony would push the matter and he wasn't disappointed.

"Really? What's she look like? You dated Abby, so I know you have at least some good taste hidden behind the geek."

"Well, they're tall, almost as tall as me. Has great eyes and in pretty decent shape for their age."

"You have your sites set on an older woman? Way to go, Probie! How'd you meet her?"

"Work," Tim said briefly. He'd let Tony work for the information to figure it out.

Tony's brows furrowed and Tim could tell he was mentally reviewed all the tall women at NCIS. And he could see when Tony drew a blank on who the 'woman' could be.

"The tallest is Patty down in archives, but she's only 5' 9"..." Tony trailed off, waiting for an explanation.

"Never said it was a woman," Tim said quietly as he dropped the first bombshell.

Tony stood silently over the second body in two days. The body of Petty Officer Anna Bryant had been found just like that of Lieutenant John Hastings, decapitated. Just the sight caused Tony to reach up and rub at his own neck, reassuring himself everything was still in place.

"Nothing like a little beheading to make you think of your own mortality, Anthony" he murmured as he snapped another picture of the body.

"What was that Kid?" came the voice of his partner, Jack Murphy.

"Just thinking that it's a damn waste of a body like that. Would like to have known her before."

"Being military, she'd have eaten you alive, Kid. Speaking of… Just got off the horn with the Captain and he said some fed is on his way here with his own coroner. Naval investigations or some such nonsense."

"They taking over the case?" Tony questioned. He wasn't sure how he felt about that possibility. He hated beheadings for obvious reasons, but something about this case was poking deep at his subconscious.

"Not if I can help it," Jack said firmly. "This happened on my turf and I plan to see it through. Might have to work with 'em though."

"Sounds like a blast," Tony said as he turned back to the scene. "Do you think they have anything in common other than the Navy and being beheaded?"

"Probably. Just gotta find it before another one turns up. Captain said the press has already latched on to the idea that there is a serial killer on the loose."

"And we don't need the panic or a lynch mob going after someone completely innocent."

"Exactly," Jack said he shaded his eyes to look off in the distance. "Bet that van coming is our feds."

Tony looked up at the approaching vehicle and when he did, he sensed it. It was like a crawling sensation at the back of his neck that increased as the van drew closer. He unconsciously tensed, waiting for the inevitable meeting of another of his kind.

Jack must have noticed something was off when he said lightheartedly, "Thought of a few feds making you nervous, Kid? Don't sweat it. We'll give 'em just enough to keep them happy while we do the real work on this one."

Tony didn't answer, he just continued to stare at the van as it stopped a few feet from the taped off area. Two men exited the van; one older and short while the younger of the two was the last person Tony expected to see.

His hazel eyes connected with the blue of the silver haired man and Tony felt as if the world's axis had shifted as his mind barreled back to the middle of a battlefield.

---

Gettysburg, 1863

"Dio boia," he hissed as the percussion from another cannon ball rocked the earth and air around him.

Men were dropping to the ground around him, crying out in vain to whatever god they prayed to for salvation. The scent of blood was so heavy in the air that he could not keep his fangs retracted.

He desperately wished (and not for the first time) that he had never left the Old World for the promise of anonymity that the United States could offer. Instead of new lands to explore with lower numbers of his kind present at every turn, he found himself in the middle of a battlefield where humans were tearing each other apart for nothing more than the disagreements between the men they placed in power.

"E ci immaginano per essere selvaggi," he whispered as another man in blue fell to the ground.

He had been heading west when it happened. The eastern shores were too crowded for his liking and the promise of the open had an appeal. The last thing he had expected was to travel right into a battlefield. He'd been in the area for almost two days and he had not found an end in sight. Just death.

He had played the 'demon of mercy' in a many cases as he traversed the battlefield. Men he could sense

“Apparently, Seaman Green was the best bull rider to ever leave Beeville, the county seat of Bee County, Texas. And even though he signed up, he still managed to slip in a competition or two when he was stationed near one. Don’t know what he got out of riding a bull though. I’ve seen “8 Seconds” and know how that story ends,” Tony said with a shudder.

“That’s because it takes a real man to ride a bull, DiNozzo,” Kate said with a smile.

“A real man doesn’t need to ride anything, Kate. But I bet you like to ride things,” he said with a bit of a leer before a hard slap landed on the back of his head. “Shutting up, Boss.”

“What can you tell me that relates to his death?” Gibbs asked in a commanding tone.

“He frequented a bar near the stadium called The Silver Buckle. Think we should put Kate in a cowgirl outfit and send her in?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” McGee spoke up, “The Silver Buckle is listed in the top ten for gay bars.”

Kate turned a smile in Tony’s direction at his suddenly shuttered expression. “Ride ‘em cowboy,” she said.

“Get Tony suited up, Abby. You have an hour,” Gibbs said as he turned on his heel and walked from the room.

Oh my... :) You definitely need to work on this.