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Title: The Gods Must be Crazy
Rating: Pg 13
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Genre: AU, First Time, Paranormal
Summary: When Senior comes to Tony with an outrageous story, he may need to take a leap of faith.
Disclaimer: Not mine, darn it!
A/N: Thanks to tejas for the beta! Happy Valentine's Day if you celebrate :) Written for the http://valentine-tibbs.livejournal.com/
Feb 13, 1976
“I hate that you and Daddy have to go away.” Anthony DiNozzo Junior’s lip stuck out and tears shimmered in his deep green eyes.
Anthony DiNozzo Senior gave his wife a sad smile as she gathered their son close, kissing him on the top of the head. He twisted his wrist, looking at his watch, winking when she gave him a stern look. Some things just had to wait, and he knew it. Despite what they had to do, Junior was more important than anything else, and they had a ritual to observe.
“Five minutes, love,” she said, her voice rich and warm. “They’ll wait. Come join us.”
“Please, Daddy? You tell the story even better.”
He nodded and settled on the bed, pulling their six year old onto his lap. His wife snuggled against his side and he felt that warm glow start deep in his belly, the satisfaction he hadn’t felt before they’d declared their love—and everything had changed. It had been worth it. Despite all the sacrifices, having this beautiful little boy and this gorgeous woman at his side was worth it all.
It had been more than worth it.
“Well, Junior, once there was a bewitching goddess who enchanted a god. She showed him the power and beauty of love. They made great sacrifices to be together, because their love was worth it. And every year on Valentine’s Day, they join together to help others find the power of love.”
His wife let out a sigh and he tipped her head up, kissing her tenderly. “They mellowed each other, Junior. Some day, you’re going to find that love too. Your mother and I promise it.”
“Do you think?” Junior asked, looking between Cyn and him hopefully. “I want someone to love me, when I’m real old. Like you!”
You have no idea, Anthony told his son silently. Some day, they’d confide their heritage to the boy they’d given up everything for. But he was far too young to understand. He had to learn when it wouldn’t be a burden.
“We promise,” Cyn said, cuddling their son. “Be good for Uncle Vincenzo and Aunt Frances.”
“I will!”
Anthony extracted himself gently, smoothing the wrinkles out of his tuxedo. He watched his wife tuck their boy under the covers, and winked. “Get some sleep, Junior. Mom and Dad will be back in two wake ups.”
“Two,” Junior said, holding up his fingers gap-toothed smile breaking something loose in Anthony’s chest. They had to be apart from their boy for two days a year, but it was worth it. It was all worth it—their mortality included.
“We love you, Tony Bear. Be a good boy. Remember, Mommy is always watching.”
As his beautiful wife joined him, their son wiggling between the covers, a cold chill came over Anthony. They were all here at the Gods’ whims, and it would be wise to remember that everything could change.
Feb 13, 2011
Of all the people Tony expected to see at ten pm on the night before Valentines’s Day, his father never would have topped the list. But here he was, standing in front of Tony’s desk. He and Gibbs had been working late—again—getting reports done. Gibbs had to sign off on Dr.Rachel Cranston, Kate’s sister’s, reports. And Tony had been taking more of a leadership role and was signing off on the Commander Reynolds case. He’d pass the reports to Gibbs already complete, cutting down boss’ workload.
“Dad?” Tony said, coming to his feet after a moment of shock. His father was in a very expensive looking tuxedo, and Tony found himself wondering where he’d found the cash to pay for it. Something about his father was different—hair gleaming brightly, color in his cheeks, a deep vitality shining from someplace deep inside. He looked powerful and strong and almost timeless, and something niggled at Tony.
“Junior,” he said, his voice booming.
Gibbs stripped off his glasses, a small smile on his face. “Mr. DiNozzo,” he greeted, as if Tony’s father showing up at the Navy Yard close to midnight was expected.
Tony looked from one to the other, trying to stem the nervous feelings of Dad going to the principal’s office. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, aware that his voice was squeaking. He cleared his throat and shrugged, wincing inwardly.
“We need to talk,” his father said. His voice was suddenly very low and very serious, and Tony tried to hide his sudden discomfort.
“Conference room. I’ll get coffee,” Gibbs put in, and Tony turned to look at his boss. “Seems serious, DiNozzo. Go.”
“Join us,” his father said again, that very serious, yet stern, voice ringing through the room. It didn’t matter that the volume was soft, the intent was clear.
Gibbs regarded Tony’s father for a long moment before nodding.
“We’ll meet you there then,” Tony said, trying to shake off his unease. He led his father to the conference room and turned on the lights. Dad settled into a chair at the head of the table—Figures, Tony thought. He folded his hands on the desk and looked regal to Tony, and as calm as could be.
Tony fidgeted and started to pace before running his hand over the back of his hair and sitting down at his father’s side, drumming out a beat on the table.
“That’s enough, Junior.” That quiet voice again, so different from the jovial—even if sometimes falsely jovial—tones he was used to hearing from Dad.
“You coming or going?” he asked, gesturing to the tux. “Looking good, Dad. Where is this one from? Paris? Milan? Rome? Those Italians sure know their way around a tux. Armani, Versace, Zegna. We come from proud fashion lines.”
“We come from very distinguished lines,” his father said, nodding. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about, Anthony. They tell me it’s time.”
“Time? To tell me I’m the lost Zegna heir?” It was a joke, but his father didn’t crack a smile; his expression didn’t even twitch. And a ball of worry set up shop in Toy’s gut, twisting and slithering uncomfortably.
“Yes, Junior. Time.”
Tony locked eyes on his father, staring into them. He’d never seen this particular swirl of emotions before, and it was unsettling, it drew a chill up and down his spine.
“Dad?”
“Wait for Gibbs.”
Wait for Gibbs? Was Dad sick? Dying? Was that glow of vitality thing something from medicine? Mom had looked ethereally beautiful just before she’d died. “Dad…”
“It’s fine, Junior. I’m not sick or whatever you’re imagining.” He reached over, squeezing Tony’s hand briefly before clasping his back together on the desk again. He was alert, but relaxed, and there wasn’t any strain or stress in his expression. What the hell was going on?
“Dad—”
“I promise, Junior.”
“Coffee,” Gibbs announced, striding in. He had three cardboard cups. “Didn’t know how you like it.”
“Black is fine.”
“Hazelnut coffee, hazelnut creamer, sugar,” Gibbs said in an undertone, placing a cup in front of Tony. That was…nice. Gibbs had remembered how he took his coffee? Tony looked up at his boss.
“Thanks.” He watched as Gibbs placed another coffee and a packet of creamers and sugars down in front of his father. Gibbs tossed the cardboard drink carrier into the trash.
Tony expected Gibbs to go around to the other side of the table, but Gibbs chose to stand near Tony, positioning himself at Tony’s shoulder, between him and his father.
“Got something to say?” Gibbs asked. He was so close Tony could almost absorb his body heat.
“A lot,” his father said, directing his words to Tony. “Let me talk before you ask questions, Junior. Though I know you’ll have a great many. Can I count on you to do that?”
Tony nodded, taking a scalding gulp of coffee.
“Gibbs?”
“Don’t have a horse in this race, Mr. DiNozzo.”
His father nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before putting it aside. “Do you remember Valentines’ Days when you were a youngster, Junior? How we always had to go away.”
“Yes,” Tony said quietly. He’d always be left with an aunt and uncle for a couple of days while Mom and Dad took off, presumably for alone time. And then after Mom died, Dad had gone away alone, even after he’d remarried.
“When your mom got sick, she wrote it all out for you. She knew I wouldn’t be good at telling you. And she wanted you to know before you turned forty.”
He pulled out an envelope from an inner pocket of his tux and placed it on the table. It was unlike anything Tony had ever seen, and it had a glow around it, the ink shimmering as if it was alive. “You can read it in her words or hear it in mine, Anthony.”
His father rarely called him by name, and that, even more than the envelope, rocked Tony to the core. He stared at the envelope, watching as it shimmered and rippled a few times, even though nobody was touching it.
Gibbs huffed out a breath, a sound that might have been “huh,” but Tony didn’t react, or respond. He was riveted by the strange envelope and the way it was moving.
“Tell me. I want to know from you, Dad.”
His father placed a hand over the envelope, nodding, a faraway look on his face, before he pushed the envelope to Tony. “You keep this, Junior. Read it later, keep it someplace special.”
“I will.” Tony’s hand curled around the envelope and a sense of his mother ran through him, a comfort surrounding him, her presence touching his heart. It was just a flash, just a moment, but Tony knew it was real. “Dad?”
“Yes, Junior,” his father said, eyes glistening with tears. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”
Tony nodded, taking another long drag of his coffee. “Gibbs. Hold this,” he said tapping the envelope, his voice strangled, though Tony wasn’t sure if it was because of the heat of the coffee or the emotion he could see in his father’s eyes. They never discussed Mom—it was too hard. And to have her brought up—not to mention this strange envelope—at work was rocking Tony to the core.
“I’ll keep it for you, for now,” Gibbs said, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand clasped the back of Tony’s neck, the warmth grounding Tony in a way he didn’t know he needed.
Gibbs reached over, resting his other hand on Tony’s and the envelope, and a jolt ran through Tony. Heat, as if his blood was boiling, and then a gentle coolness, calming him. A warm glow started in the pit of Tony’s stomach, and in that second, he felt whole.
Gibbs grunted, and Tony was sure he felt the jolt too. When Gibbs’ hand withdrew, holding the envelope, his always calm, cool, and in control boss’ hand was trembling.
“Huh,” his father said, a little smile on his face. “Didn’t expect that.”
“What?” Tony and Gibbs chorused.
“Not yet. I need to explain first.”
Tony nodded.
“Gibbs, please sit?” Dad’s voice was gentle now, none of the alpha wars Tony’d seen Gibbs and Dad doing in the past visits, though that eye communication thing had to be happening. Gibbs pulled in a deep, sharp breath and came around to the opposite side of the table, sitting down. He tucked the envelope inside his coat, patting it gently.
“Thank you, Gibbs. I know you don’t understand, but I appreciate your patience. Junior…” He turned his attention fully on Tony. “Your mother and I had a great love affair, Junior. So great, in fact, that we were willing to give up everything to be together, and to have you.”
He swallowed another sip of his coffee, staring at his neatly manicured fingers for a moment. “Your mother was known by many names throughout history.”
“History?”
“Yes, Junior. History. You see, we met a very long time ago. Your mother was spectacular. All the men flocked around her. She was known by several names, but I always called her Cytherea, Cyn for short. Some thought her to be flighty and vain, unfaithful, chasing after the wrong sorts of people. But I always saw her as someone who needed the right god to settle her.”
God? Had Dad really said GOD?
“Dad?” His voice had rarely been higher.
“Not yet, Junior. Let me finish, please.” Dad’s voice shook for a moment and Tony gulped hard. Dementia? Alzheimer’s? All the possibilities ran through his head.
“We had…we had a great love affair. Passionate, beautiful. We had… Oh, Junior, she was…” He trailed off, closing his eyes. Tony glanced over at Gibbs, who was stock still, face frozen.
“But there came a point when your mother had burned too many bridges, and she was reined in. She’d incurred the wrath of Ze— a very powerful…presence.”
He paused, taking another swallow of his coffee before meeting Tony’s eyes. Even though every rational thought in his head told him to dismiss this and get his dad some psychological and medical help, he couldn’t quite accept that.
“When your mother became pregnant…with you, Junior, we were given a choice. Break up permanently, give you up, or take the consequences. We chose the consequences.”
“What did he put you through?” Gibbs asked, his voice quiet but firm. He didn’t move other than saying the words.
“You believe.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“I know,” Gibbs replied, and Tony tried to stifle his frustration. What did they know?
“I always wondered…” His father gave Gibbs a smile. “Later. Later, we’ll talk, Gibbs.”
“Jethro,” Gibbs corrected quietly.
“The consequences,” Tony burst out. “What were they? Who threatened you?”
His father squeezed his hand tightly. “We chose you, Junior. We chose a mortal life, death… We chose each other and we chose our son.”
“Mom?” Tony latched on to the only thing that made sense in this story—his mother.
“She knew the risks, Junior. We had some wonderful years raising our son, and her only regret was that she couldn’t be with you as you grew up. But she’s always here, Junior, even if you can’t see her. Her soul is in everything you do. You have her eyes, her smile, and some of her rebellious spirit. All you need now is someone to tame you.”
“Tame me?”
“I tamed her. She said that a lot, Junior. Together we…” He trailed off, looking out the window and them motioning to his tuxedo. “Our legacy is to be reunited for one day a year, to help people find their own paths.”
“You see her? You…Why didn’t I…Dad?”
“It isn’t allowed, Junior.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Your mother is Aphrodite,” Gibbs said, his voice calming. “And if I’m not mistaken, your father is Hermes.”
His father nodded, and Tony looked between them, knowing he was gaping. “You’re just going to buy this, Gibbs? Something is wrong with him!”
“It makes sense,” Gibbs said quietly. “Patron of thieves, orators, speech, social diplomacy.”
“And a dreamer, Jethro.”
“ What the hell? How can you just believe this?” Tony asked, gulping the rest of his coffee for something to do with his shaking hands. “Gibbs?”
“Because he’s one of us too, Tony,” his father put in. “I always wondered… You reminded me of her.”
“What about her?” Gibbs asked, suddenly eager.
“You’re a protector, just like she was. Law and order, Jethro. She’d be proud of you.”
Gibbs sat up taller. “When we knew she was terminal, she told me. I didn’t believe until she showed me, took me to Greece. But it was a boy’s fancy and not…not for an adult. A Marine.”
“But you never forgot, even if you didn’t share it with anyone. Athena would have been proud of you.”
“Athena? Have you all gone crazy?” Tony’d had enough and stood, shoving his chair against the table—hard. “I’m outta here.”
He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that told him to believe, to open his mind. To remember the little boy’s wonder as Mom and Dad left, dressed to the nines, and how no car had ever picked them up. How they’d just seemed to float off into the night.
Feb 14, 2011
9 am
Tony’d cracked open the Scotch as soon as he’d gotten home. Screw drinking three fingers, he’d swilled it from the bottle. Sometime after one, Gibbs had banged on his door, but he’d slurred some go away message, and Gibbs had actually listened. Maybe you could teach an old dog new tricks.
And now he had a splitting headache, the hangover from hell. And a lot of questions he needed answers to. He had no idea where to begin.
Well, yes, he did.
Gibbs.
If Gibbs believed…but why did Gibbs believe? It had been something Tony had been turning over in his head again and again.
Tony wandered into the bathroom, turning the shower onto the ice cold setting. It would be the only thing that would wake him up. He showered quickly, shaved even faster, despite the nicks to his skin.
They had a day off after the case wrapped, so even though this was a normal working day, he knew he’d find Gibbs at home. Probably in the damn basement, playing with his wood.
Tony drove there quickly, anticipation and nervousness burning a hole in his gut. What was he gonna say to Gibbs? What if it was all some freaky dream?
But Tony knew it hadn’t been. While he’d been busy trying not to process any of this, his mind had been stubbornly making connections. The way his mother had almost glowed, she was so beautiful. And the way his father had always protected her. The way they’d spent every summer in Greece and the way his parents had lit up there, speaking the language flawlessly, very old relatives coming by to say hello before lapsing into a language Tony couldn’t understand.
The way his mother had always underscored that she had an important job to do, even though Tony had never understood.
He pulled to a stop in front of Gibbs’ place, gripping the steering wheel. “Mom, give me something to go on,” he said into the quiet of the car.
He didn’t know what he expected, but soon a feeling of comfort stole over him, so intense, so tender, so gentle that he almost cried. Something inside him that had been in the fetal position since his mother’s death uncurled. He could feel it happening, his spirit rearranging itself, his mind opening to the possibility, as bizarre as it was.
And the realization that he wasn’t alone in this. Gibbs’ mom had been one of them too. He’d lost her really young, too—it was something they’d had in common.
“Thanks, Mom,” Tony whispered. He felt the psychic brush of her lips on his forehead and he tried not to beg her to stay.
Tony got out of the car slowly and looked up at Gibbs’ house. He didn’t knock, just pushed the door open. He started to head downstairs and then caught a glimpse of Gibbs outside in the garden, right in front of the sundial.
Why the hell did a guy like Gibbs have a sundial in his yard anyway?
Tony came outside, nodding at Gibbs and sitting on the cold ground next to him. They were shoulder in the cool of the morning, and the neighborhood was silent.
“Talked to your old man until your mom came for him,” Gibbs said, as if it was normal. “It was good.”
“Good,” Tony echoed.
“For me,” Gibbs clarified. “He knew my mom before she was…mortal.”
“You believe?” Tony asked. “Deep in your heart, Gibbs? You believe all this.”
“I know,” Gibbs said, repeating the words he’d said last night. “She was dying, Tony. She brought me there. We never had any spare money, but all of a sudden we were on a plane to Greece, so that I could meet my family.”
“Did you?” Tony asked, feeling a small smile starting to blossom. He could just imagine a little Gibbs running around Greece.
“I met them all, even your parents. Not Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo, but Aphrodite and Hermes. He looked different. Younger. Like you. And I saw things that couldn’t be explained. Dad couldn’t come, and Mom said it was our secret. So when she died a few months later, I just buried it.”
“You’re good at that.”
Gibbs shrugged.
“So the super ninja stealth and knowing everything, did you inherit those?”
“Nope. Just me, Tony. Just mortal me.”
“You felt something when you touched the letter, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Gibbs replied after a few moments.
“What did it feel like to you?” Tony pressed.
“Home.”
“Home?” Tony asked, gesturing to the house.
“Nah. Different kinda home, DiNozzo. Your dad said some stuff to me that made a lot of sense.
Tony cocked his head and did his best Gibbs impression to make the bossman talk.
“Been wastin’ a lot of time dancing around stuff. Time I said somethin’.”
What the hell did he mean by that?
Gibbs reached out and laid his hand on Tony’s knee, and again, that comfort feeling flared up inside him. “Think a switch got thrown or something, or maybe a blindfold came off. I remembered why I was so attracted to you in Baltimore, and it isn’t just that you look like your old man.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked. He still didn’t feel like he understood any of this.
“Yeah. Come out with me tonight. Let’s see how this thing works?”
Tony just stared at Gibbs, knowing he was wide eyed and open mouthed, but then Gibbs closed the gap between them. He buried his hands in Tony’s hair, kissing him deeply.
Finally! Something inside Tony screamed, and he barely swallowed a groan as Gibbs deepened the kiss, their tongues stroking together slowly, sensuously. When he broke away, Tony was painfully hard and Gibbs was panting in a very un-Gibbslike manner.
“What d’ya say?” Gibbs asked after he caught his breath.
“About?” Tony was still hazy from the whole kissing thing.
“Go out with me. On a…date. For Valentine’s Day. Your dad approves.”
“He does?”
“Yup. Told me to take the bull by the horns.” Gibbs flashed a smile. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
“You okay with this?” Gibbs asked. “You wanted this?”
“Have for a while,” Tony admitted, twining his fingers with Gibbs’. He moved around so that he was leaning against Gibbs chest, reclining between the other man’s open legs, his back against Gibbs’ chest.
Tony lost track of time as they sat there, absorbing the warmth of the sun. “Your mom must have been a great woman.”
“She was. So was yours.”
“I know.”
Feb 14, 2012
8 pm
“You almost ready to go?” Tony asked, looking at his lover worriedly. Gibbs had taken a bullet to the shoulder last week, and even though he hadn’t taken any time off work, Tony worried.
“Almost,” Gibbs said, rotating his shoulder slowly. His suit jacket was in his other hand, and he looked gorgeous dressed in black, with only a thin red stripe in the tie breaking up the monochromatic color.
Tony stepped up behind Gibbs, straightening his lover’s tie. “You look good enough to eat,” he whispered, nibbling on Gibbs’ earlobe. When his lover shuddered, Tony wondered if they should just cancel dinner and go right to dessert.
“Later,” Gibbs teased, giving Tony a wink.
“You think we’d be here a year ago?” Tony asked, looking at their reflections in the mirror.
“Makes sense, DiNozzo. Think we were meant to be.”
“You believe all that mumbo jumbo?” Even after a year, Tony had his skeptical moments. And Gibbs always indulged those.
“Maybe. You know as well as I do that the gods are sometimes crazy.”
“Just like I’m crazy for you.”
Rating: Pg 13
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Genre: AU, First Time, Paranormal
Summary: When Senior comes to Tony with an outrageous story, he may need to take a leap of faith.
Disclaimer: Not mine, darn it!
A/N: Thanks to tejas for the beta! Happy Valentine's Day if you celebrate :) Written for the http://valentine-tibbs.livejournal.com/
Feb 13, 1976
“I hate that you and Daddy have to go away.” Anthony DiNozzo Junior’s lip stuck out and tears shimmered in his deep green eyes.
Anthony DiNozzo Senior gave his wife a sad smile as she gathered their son close, kissing him on the top of the head. He twisted his wrist, looking at his watch, winking when she gave him a stern look. Some things just had to wait, and he knew it. Despite what they had to do, Junior was more important than anything else, and they had a ritual to observe.
“Five minutes, love,” she said, her voice rich and warm. “They’ll wait. Come join us.”
“Please, Daddy? You tell the story even better.”
He nodded and settled on the bed, pulling their six year old onto his lap. His wife snuggled against his side and he felt that warm glow start deep in his belly, the satisfaction he hadn’t felt before they’d declared their love—and everything had changed. It had been worth it. Despite all the sacrifices, having this beautiful little boy and this gorgeous woman at his side was worth it all.
It had been more than worth it.
“Well, Junior, once there was a bewitching goddess who enchanted a god. She showed him the power and beauty of love. They made great sacrifices to be together, because their love was worth it. And every year on Valentine’s Day, they join together to help others find the power of love.”
His wife let out a sigh and he tipped her head up, kissing her tenderly. “They mellowed each other, Junior. Some day, you’re going to find that love too. Your mother and I promise it.”
“Do you think?” Junior asked, looking between Cyn and him hopefully. “I want someone to love me, when I’m real old. Like you!”
You have no idea, Anthony told his son silently. Some day, they’d confide their heritage to the boy they’d given up everything for. But he was far too young to understand. He had to learn when it wouldn’t be a burden.
“We promise,” Cyn said, cuddling their son. “Be good for Uncle Vincenzo and Aunt Frances.”
“I will!”
Anthony extracted himself gently, smoothing the wrinkles out of his tuxedo. He watched his wife tuck their boy under the covers, and winked. “Get some sleep, Junior. Mom and Dad will be back in two wake ups.”
“Two,” Junior said, holding up his fingers gap-toothed smile breaking something loose in Anthony’s chest. They had to be apart from their boy for two days a year, but it was worth it. It was all worth it—their mortality included.
“We love you, Tony Bear. Be a good boy. Remember, Mommy is always watching.”
As his beautiful wife joined him, their son wiggling between the covers, a cold chill came over Anthony. They were all here at the Gods’ whims, and it would be wise to remember that everything could change.
Feb 13, 2011
Of all the people Tony expected to see at ten pm on the night before Valentines’s Day, his father never would have topped the list. But here he was, standing in front of Tony’s desk. He and Gibbs had been working late—again—getting reports done. Gibbs had to sign off on Dr.Rachel Cranston, Kate’s sister’s, reports. And Tony had been taking more of a leadership role and was signing off on the Commander Reynolds case. He’d pass the reports to Gibbs already complete, cutting down boss’ workload.
“Dad?” Tony said, coming to his feet after a moment of shock. His father was in a very expensive looking tuxedo, and Tony found himself wondering where he’d found the cash to pay for it. Something about his father was different—hair gleaming brightly, color in his cheeks, a deep vitality shining from someplace deep inside. He looked powerful and strong and almost timeless, and something niggled at Tony.
“Junior,” he said, his voice booming.
Gibbs stripped off his glasses, a small smile on his face. “Mr. DiNozzo,” he greeted, as if Tony’s father showing up at the Navy Yard close to midnight was expected.
Tony looked from one to the other, trying to stem the nervous feelings of Dad going to the principal’s office. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, aware that his voice was squeaking. He cleared his throat and shrugged, wincing inwardly.
“We need to talk,” his father said. His voice was suddenly very low and very serious, and Tony tried to hide his sudden discomfort.
“Conference room. I’ll get coffee,” Gibbs put in, and Tony turned to look at his boss. “Seems serious, DiNozzo. Go.”
“Join us,” his father said again, that very serious, yet stern, voice ringing through the room. It didn’t matter that the volume was soft, the intent was clear.
Gibbs regarded Tony’s father for a long moment before nodding.
“We’ll meet you there then,” Tony said, trying to shake off his unease. He led his father to the conference room and turned on the lights. Dad settled into a chair at the head of the table—Figures, Tony thought. He folded his hands on the desk and looked regal to Tony, and as calm as could be.
Tony fidgeted and started to pace before running his hand over the back of his hair and sitting down at his father’s side, drumming out a beat on the table.
“That’s enough, Junior.” That quiet voice again, so different from the jovial—even if sometimes falsely jovial—tones he was used to hearing from Dad.
“You coming or going?” he asked, gesturing to the tux. “Looking good, Dad. Where is this one from? Paris? Milan? Rome? Those Italians sure know their way around a tux. Armani, Versace, Zegna. We come from proud fashion lines.”
“We come from very distinguished lines,” his father said, nodding. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about, Anthony. They tell me it’s time.”
“Time? To tell me I’m the lost Zegna heir?” It was a joke, but his father didn’t crack a smile; his expression didn’t even twitch. And a ball of worry set up shop in Toy’s gut, twisting and slithering uncomfortably.
“Yes, Junior. Time.”
Tony locked eyes on his father, staring into them. He’d never seen this particular swirl of emotions before, and it was unsettling, it drew a chill up and down his spine.
“Dad?”
“Wait for Gibbs.”
Wait for Gibbs? Was Dad sick? Dying? Was that glow of vitality thing something from medicine? Mom had looked ethereally beautiful just before she’d died. “Dad…”
“It’s fine, Junior. I’m not sick or whatever you’re imagining.” He reached over, squeezing Tony’s hand briefly before clasping his back together on the desk again. He was alert, but relaxed, and there wasn’t any strain or stress in his expression. What the hell was going on?
“Dad—”
“I promise, Junior.”
“Coffee,” Gibbs announced, striding in. He had three cardboard cups. “Didn’t know how you like it.”
“Black is fine.”
“Hazelnut coffee, hazelnut creamer, sugar,” Gibbs said in an undertone, placing a cup in front of Tony. That was…nice. Gibbs had remembered how he took his coffee? Tony looked up at his boss.
“Thanks.” He watched as Gibbs placed another coffee and a packet of creamers and sugars down in front of his father. Gibbs tossed the cardboard drink carrier into the trash.
Tony expected Gibbs to go around to the other side of the table, but Gibbs chose to stand near Tony, positioning himself at Tony’s shoulder, between him and his father.
“Got something to say?” Gibbs asked. He was so close Tony could almost absorb his body heat.
“A lot,” his father said, directing his words to Tony. “Let me talk before you ask questions, Junior. Though I know you’ll have a great many. Can I count on you to do that?”
Tony nodded, taking a scalding gulp of coffee.
“Gibbs?”
“Don’t have a horse in this race, Mr. DiNozzo.”
His father nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before putting it aside. “Do you remember Valentines’ Days when you were a youngster, Junior? How we always had to go away.”
“Yes,” Tony said quietly. He’d always be left with an aunt and uncle for a couple of days while Mom and Dad took off, presumably for alone time. And then after Mom died, Dad had gone away alone, even after he’d remarried.
“When your mom got sick, she wrote it all out for you. She knew I wouldn’t be good at telling you. And she wanted you to know before you turned forty.”
He pulled out an envelope from an inner pocket of his tux and placed it on the table. It was unlike anything Tony had ever seen, and it had a glow around it, the ink shimmering as if it was alive. “You can read it in her words or hear it in mine, Anthony.”
His father rarely called him by name, and that, even more than the envelope, rocked Tony to the core. He stared at the envelope, watching as it shimmered and rippled a few times, even though nobody was touching it.
Gibbs huffed out a breath, a sound that might have been “huh,” but Tony didn’t react, or respond. He was riveted by the strange envelope and the way it was moving.
“Tell me. I want to know from you, Dad.”
His father placed a hand over the envelope, nodding, a faraway look on his face, before he pushed the envelope to Tony. “You keep this, Junior. Read it later, keep it someplace special.”
“I will.” Tony’s hand curled around the envelope and a sense of his mother ran through him, a comfort surrounding him, her presence touching his heart. It was just a flash, just a moment, but Tony knew it was real. “Dad?”
“Yes, Junior,” his father said, eyes glistening with tears. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”
Tony nodded, taking another long drag of his coffee. “Gibbs. Hold this,” he said tapping the envelope, his voice strangled, though Tony wasn’t sure if it was because of the heat of the coffee or the emotion he could see in his father’s eyes. They never discussed Mom—it was too hard. And to have her brought up—not to mention this strange envelope—at work was rocking Tony to the core.
“I’ll keep it for you, for now,” Gibbs said, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand clasped the back of Tony’s neck, the warmth grounding Tony in a way he didn’t know he needed.
Gibbs reached over, resting his other hand on Tony’s and the envelope, and a jolt ran through Tony. Heat, as if his blood was boiling, and then a gentle coolness, calming him. A warm glow started in the pit of Tony’s stomach, and in that second, he felt whole.
Gibbs grunted, and Tony was sure he felt the jolt too. When Gibbs’ hand withdrew, holding the envelope, his always calm, cool, and in control boss’ hand was trembling.
“Huh,” his father said, a little smile on his face. “Didn’t expect that.”
“What?” Tony and Gibbs chorused.
“Not yet. I need to explain first.”
Tony nodded.
“Gibbs, please sit?” Dad’s voice was gentle now, none of the alpha wars Tony’d seen Gibbs and Dad doing in the past visits, though that eye communication thing had to be happening. Gibbs pulled in a deep, sharp breath and came around to the opposite side of the table, sitting down. He tucked the envelope inside his coat, patting it gently.
“Thank you, Gibbs. I know you don’t understand, but I appreciate your patience. Junior…” He turned his attention fully on Tony. “Your mother and I had a great love affair, Junior. So great, in fact, that we were willing to give up everything to be together, and to have you.”
He swallowed another sip of his coffee, staring at his neatly manicured fingers for a moment. “Your mother was known by many names throughout history.”
“History?”
“Yes, Junior. History. You see, we met a very long time ago. Your mother was spectacular. All the men flocked around her. She was known by several names, but I always called her Cytherea, Cyn for short. Some thought her to be flighty and vain, unfaithful, chasing after the wrong sorts of people. But I always saw her as someone who needed the right god to settle her.”
God? Had Dad really said GOD?
“Dad?” His voice had rarely been higher.
“Not yet, Junior. Let me finish, please.” Dad’s voice shook for a moment and Tony gulped hard. Dementia? Alzheimer’s? All the possibilities ran through his head.
“We had…we had a great love affair. Passionate, beautiful. We had… Oh, Junior, she was…” He trailed off, closing his eyes. Tony glanced over at Gibbs, who was stock still, face frozen.
“But there came a point when your mother had burned too many bridges, and she was reined in. She’d incurred the wrath of Ze— a very powerful…presence.”
He paused, taking another swallow of his coffee before meeting Tony’s eyes. Even though every rational thought in his head told him to dismiss this and get his dad some psychological and medical help, he couldn’t quite accept that.
“When your mother became pregnant…with you, Junior, we were given a choice. Break up permanently, give you up, or take the consequences. We chose the consequences.”
“What did he put you through?” Gibbs asked, his voice quiet but firm. He didn’t move other than saying the words.
“You believe.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“I know,” Gibbs replied, and Tony tried to stifle his frustration. What did they know?
“I always wondered…” His father gave Gibbs a smile. “Later. Later, we’ll talk, Gibbs.”
“Jethro,” Gibbs corrected quietly.
“The consequences,” Tony burst out. “What were they? Who threatened you?”
His father squeezed his hand tightly. “We chose you, Junior. We chose a mortal life, death… We chose each other and we chose our son.”
“Mom?” Tony latched on to the only thing that made sense in this story—his mother.
“She knew the risks, Junior. We had some wonderful years raising our son, and her only regret was that she couldn’t be with you as you grew up. But she’s always here, Junior, even if you can’t see her. Her soul is in everything you do. You have her eyes, her smile, and some of her rebellious spirit. All you need now is someone to tame you.”
“Tame me?”
“I tamed her. She said that a lot, Junior. Together we…” He trailed off, looking out the window and them motioning to his tuxedo. “Our legacy is to be reunited for one day a year, to help people find their own paths.”
“You see her? You…Why didn’t I…Dad?”
“It isn’t allowed, Junior.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Your mother is Aphrodite,” Gibbs said, his voice calming. “And if I’m not mistaken, your father is Hermes.”
His father nodded, and Tony looked between them, knowing he was gaping. “You’re just going to buy this, Gibbs? Something is wrong with him!”
“It makes sense,” Gibbs said quietly. “Patron of thieves, orators, speech, social diplomacy.”
“And a dreamer, Jethro.”
“ What the hell? How can you just believe this?” Tony asked, gulping the rest of his coffee for something to do with his shaking hands. “Gibbs?”
“Because he’s one of us too, Tony,” his father put in. “I always wondered… You reminded me of her.”
“What about her?” Gibbs asked, suddenly eager.
“You’re a protector, just like she was. Law and order, Jethro. She’d be proud of you.”
Gibbs sat up taller. “When we knew she was terminal, she told me. I didn’t believe until she showed me, took me to Greece. But it was a boy’s fancy and not…not for an adult. A Marine.”
“But you never forgot, even if you didn’t share it with anyone. Athena would have been proud of you.”
“Athena? Have you all gone crazy?” Tony’d had enough and stood, shoving his chair against the table—hard. “I’m outta here.”
He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that told him to believe, to open his mind. To remember the little boy’s wonder as Mom and Dad left, dressed to the nines, and how no car had ever picked them up. How they’d just seemed to float off into the night.
Feb 14, 2011
9 am
Tony’d cracked open the Scotch as soon as he’d gotten home. Screw drinking three fingers, he’d swilled it from the bottle. Sometime after one, Gibbs had banged on his door, but he’d slurred some go away message, and Gibbs had actually listened. Maybe you could teach an old dog new tricks.
And now he had a splitting headache, the hangover from hell. And a lot of questions he needed answers to. He had no idea where to begin.
Well, yes, he did.
Gibbs.
If Gibbs believed…but why did Gibbs believe? It had been something Tony had been turning over in his head again and again.
Tony wandered into the bathroom, turning the shower onto the ice cold setting. It would be the only thing that would wake him up. He showered quickly, shaved even faster, despite the nicks to his skin.
They had a day off after the case wrapped, so even though this was a normal working day, he knew he’d find Gibbs at home. Probably in the damn basement, playing with his wood.
Tony drove there quickly, anticipation and nervousness burning a hole in his gut. What was he gonna say to Gibbs? What if it was all some freaky dream?
But Tony knew it hadn’t been. While he’d been busy trying not to process any of this, his mind had been stubbornly making connections. The way his mother had almost glowed, she was so beautiful. And the way his father had always protected her. The way they’d spent every summer in Greece and the way his parents had lit up there, speaking the language flawlessly, very old relatives coming by to say hello before lapsing into a language Tony couldn’t understand.
The way his mother had always underscored that she had an important job to do, even though Tony had never understood.
He pulled to a stop in front of Gibbs’ place, gripping the steering wheel. “Mom, give me something to go on,” he said into the quiet of the car.
He didn’t know what he expected, but soon a feeling of comfort stole over him, so intense, so tender, so gentle that he almost cried. Something inside him that had been in the fetal position since his mother’s death uncurled. He could feel it happening, his spirit rearranging itself, his mind opening to the possibility, as bizarre as it was.
And the realization that he wasn’t alone in this. Gibbs’ mom had been one of them too. He’d lost her really young, too—it was something they’d had in common.
“Thanks, Mom,” Tony whispered. He felt the psychic brush of her lips on his forehead and he tried not to beg her to stay.
Tony got out of the car slowly and looked up at Gibbs’ house. He didn’t knock, just pushed the door open. He started to head downstairs and then caught a glimpse of Gibbs outside in the garden, right in front of the sundial.
Why the hell did a guy like Gibbs have a sundial in his yard anyway?
Tony came outside, nodding at Gibbs and sitting on the cold ground next to him. They were shoulder in the cool of the morning, and the neighborhood was silent.
“Talked to your old man until your mom came for him,” Gibbs said, as if it was normal. “It was good.”
“Good,” Tony echoed.
“For me,” Gibbs clarified. “He knew my mom before she was…mortal.”
“You believe?” Tony asked. “Deep in your heart, Gibbs? You believe all this.”
“I know,” Gibbs said, repeating the words he’d said last night. “She was dying, Tony. She brought me there. We never had any spare money, but all of a sudden we were on a plane to Greece, so that I could meet my family.”
“Did you?” Tony asked, feeling a small smile starting to blossom. He could just imagine a little Gibbs running around Greece.
“I met them all, even your parents. Not Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo, but Aphrodite and Hermes. He looked different. Younger. Like you. And I saw things that couldn’t be explained. Dad couldn’t come, and Mom said it was our secret. So when she died a few months later, I just buried it.”
“You’re good at that.”
Gibbs shrugged.
“So the super ninja stealth and knowing everything, did you inherit those?”
“Nope. Just me, Tony. Just mortal me.”
“You felt something when you touched the letter, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Gibbs replied after a few moments.
“What did it feel like to you?” Tony pressed.
“Home.”
“Home?” Tony asked, gesturing to the house.
“Nah. Different kinda home, DiNozzo. Your dad said some stuff to me that made a lot of sense.
Tony cocked his head and did his best Gibbs impression to make the bossman talk.
“Been wastin’ a lot of time dancing around stuff. Time I said somethin’.”
What the hell did he mean by that?
Gibbs reached out and laid his hand on Tony’s knee, and again, that comfort feeling flared up inside him. “Think a switch got thrown or something, or maybe a blindfold came off. I remembered why I was so attracted to you in Baltimore, and it isn’t just that you look like your old man.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked. He still didn’t feel like he understood any of this.
“Yeah. Come out with me tonight. Let’s see how this thing works?”
Tony just stared at Gibbs, knowing he was wide eyed and open mouthed, but then Gibbs closed the gap between them. He buried his hands in Tony’s hair, kissing him deeply.
Finally! Something inside Tony screamed, and he barely swallowed a groan as Gibbs deepened the kiss, their tongues stroking together slowly, sensuously. When he broke away, Tony was painfully hard and Gibbs was panting in a very un-Gibbslike manner.
“What d’ya say?” Gibbs asked after he caught his breath.
“About?” Tony was still hazy from the whole kissing thing.
“Go out with me. On a…date. For Valentine’s Day. Your dad approves.”
“He does?”
“Yup. Told me to take the bull by the horns.” Gibbs flashed a smile. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
“You okay with this?” Gibbs asked. “You wanted this?”
“Have for a while,” Tony admitted, twining his fingers with Gibbs’. He moved around so that he was leaning against Gibbs chest, reclining between the other man’s open legs, his back against Gibbs’ chest.
Tony lost track of time as they sat there, absorbing the warmth of the sun. “Your mom must have been a great woman.”
“She was. So was yours.”
“I know.”
Feb 14, 2012
8 pm
“You almost ready to go?” Tony asked, looking at his lover worriedly. Gibbs had taken a bullet to the shoulder last week, and even though he hadn’t taken any time off work, Tony worried.
“Almost,” Gibbs said, rotating his shoulder slowly. His suit jacket was in his other hand, and he looked gorgeous dressed in black, with only a thin red stripe in the tie breaking up the monochromatic color.
Tony stepped up behind Gibbs, straightening his lover’s tie. “You look good enough to eat,” he whispered, nibbling on Gibbs’ earlobe. When his lover shuddered, Tony wondered if they should just cancel dinner and go right to dessert.
“Later,” Gibbs teased, giving Tony a wink.
“You think we’d be here a year ago?” Tony asked, looking at their reflections in the mirror.
“Makes sense, DiNozzo. Think we were meant to be.”
“You believe all that mumbo jumbo?” Even after a year, Tony had his skeptical moments. And Gibbs always indulged those.
“Maybe. You know as well as I do that the gods are sometimes crazy.”
“Just like I’m crazy for you.”
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