Disclaimer: I'm not USA, Bellesario or CBS, so I don't claim to own them.
Genre: Slash; Threesome/Moresome
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo; Peter/Elizabeth/Neal
Word Count: 1,000
Written For: 2013 picfor1000 Picture Prompt "salt & shots"
Note: This is set within the same verse as Additional Training, however, this can be read as a stand alone.
Summary: Tony's fourth sale is pending and he acquires an interesting cell mate.
Tony had been sent to auction at the end of each two-year contract. The precincts had the option to renew the contract, but apparently no one wanted to keep him. Peoria, Phillie, Baltimore… It was all the same. And his upcoming fourth shot wasn't likely to change a thing. He was six years into his fifteen-year stint as a debt slave and with such a shoddy record he feared he would have to return to slavery just to survive once he was freed.
He watched through the glass outer wall of his holding cell as a group of convict slaves were led past. Unlike him, they were chained, cuffed and wearing just a flimsy orange strip of material at the waist. At least, as a debt slave, he got clothes and he was only cuffed during transfers. He had limited access within the auction facility and could set his own schedule.
He was momentarily shocked when a guard leading one convict stopped at his door and opened it.
"Boss upstairs has an assignment for you, DiNozzo."
"Yes, Sir," Tony answered swiftly as he stood at attention.
"This convict is a flight risk. He's in holding pending the finalization of his sale to his new FBI handler. Until then, it's up to you to make sure he doesn't run. Do good and the warden will make sure you get a good sale for your next transfer, maybe something federal."
"Understood, Sir," Tony responded.
"From here on out, your door will be locked, so use the code if you want in and out. Just watch him when you enter it."
The guard turned at left, the door closing with the click of the lock. Once the guard was gone, Tony looked over his new cellmate. The man made the orange strip of fabric look good. He had a well-toned physique and dark, unruly hair. It wasn't going to be much of hardship to have him to stare at for a few days.
"Tony," he said, extending his hand out toward the cuffed hands of the other man. "Debt slave ready for my fourth transfer."
"Neal," came a strong voice. Then the man looked up and Tony was staring into a nice set of deep blue eyes. "Convict slave about to get out of here."
"Not on my watch," Tony said lightly as he flopped back down on his bed. "The other one is yours. Not the quality of a five-star hotel, but a guy can make do."
"What do you know about five-stars?" Neal asked, his chains rattling as he stretched out on the bed.
"My dad had a thing for leaving me in them while he did 'business.' He stopped once I learned what room service was," Tony added with a grin.
"If the old man could afford that, what're you doing here?"
"Didn't follow his career plan and student loans are killer. How about you? How'd you get the cuffs and why do you have a fed buying you?"
"Made the mistake of getting caught. Twice. And the fed is just going to be my handler. He won't actually own me," Neal added.
"It is better being property of the organization and not the individual," Tony said quickly. "Seen too many bad things happen during individual ownership."
"Yeah, well I won't have to worry about it for long," Neal said. Tony gave him a calculating look that caused Neal to laugh.
"Don't worry wanna be cop, I'm not cutting out of here. They're putting me in a tracker collar once I'm out and having me work cases with the fed. But I'll find a way around it."
"Sure you will," Tony said with a grin. "Those collars are a bitch. Had one my first year because I was considered a flight risk. Good luck with that."
"I'll send you post card when I'm out."
"I look forward to it."
Three days later, Neal was on his way to the FBI and Tony found himself in the hands of a federal agent named Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a federal agent who actually owned him instead of the agency to which Tony had been assigned.
Two Years Later
Gibbs knocked on the door, while Tony stayed the traditional three steps back with his head bowed. It wasn't a formal visit according to Gibbs, but Tony had had proper slave manners ingrained in him since his initial training period.
"Jethro!" a woman's voice sounded, followed by the bark of a dog. "Don't mind Satchmo. It's been too long."
"You to, El," Gibbs said, giving her a hug. Tony followed them quietly in the door. Until he was told otherwise, he would stick to slave protocol.
"You know you were welcome anytime. Shannon would have kicked your ass for not keeping in touch with her family."
"I know," Gibbs said chagrinned.
"Hey Gibbs," a man greeted. "How's NCIS treating you?"
"Probably the same the FBI's treating you," Gibbs answered. Once Gibbs took a seat, Tony sank to the floor beside the chair. He smiled when Gibbs fingers started carding through his hair.
"This is Tony. Debt slave and my senior agent," Gibbs said with a hint of pride that made Tony's heart swell.
Then another person walked into the room carrying a tray with four glasses. Tony tried not to react when he recognized the tussled hair and blue eyes.
"And this is Neal," El said with a smile. "Our convict slave and Peter's pain in the ass."
"But you love me for it," Neal said with a charming smile as he sat the tray down. "Maybe Tony can join me while you guys catch up?" Neal questioned his owners.
Gibbs nodded and Tony followed Neal to a room containing art supplies in surplus.
"So what happened to running, Neal?" Tony questioned with a nod at the decorative collar around Neal's neck.
"What happened to avoiding individual ownership?" Neal threw back with a grin.
"Decided it wasn't all it was cracked up to be," Tony said.