Hiding in Plain Sight: 11/21
Oct. 23rd, 2008 06:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantheficTitle: Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Eleven
Author: Xanthe
Fandom: SGA/NCIS crossover
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo, John/Rodney, Carson/Caldwell, Teyla/Ronon, Ziva/McGee, and some other pairings that would spoil the story if I revealed them. Gibbs/Ducky friendship.
Rating: NC17 for explicit BDSM sex (m/m slash, femslash and het) and spanking.
Author's Notes
Summary: When a serial killer murders three marines on Atlantis, NCIS are called in to investigate. However, their arrival brings complications for everyone – revealing a lie, a prophecy, a secret and a nemesis.
Part Eleven: “Man, I had such a crush on Ricardo Montalban when I was a kid. Used to re-watch that Star Trek movie, The Wrath of Khan - the one where he's the top gone bad – over and over again. Montalban's got all these muscles and you can tell Kirk kind of has the hots for him but Spock isn't going to have any of it, and…"
Hiding in Plain Sight
By Xanthe
Part Eleven
They reached Lorne’s door and she knocked on it nervously, wondering if he’d really be pleased to see her. He opened it and her heart skipped a beat. He was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans and nothing else – nothing on his chest, which was broad, smooth and well muscled, and nothing on his feet either.
“Oh…uh…” she stared at him blankly.
“Don’t know what you see in him, Abs,” Tony whispered wickedly in her ear, and she saw his eyes flicker appreciatively over Lorne’s attractive body as well.
“Is everything okay, Abby?” Lorne said, reaching for a shirt and starting to pull it on.
“NO! Uh…I mean, you don’t have to get dressed on my account – just stay half-naked…oh, shit, that sounded SO wrong,” she muttered. Lorne laughed but he held off putting the shirt on, which pleased her.
“What’s going on?” Lorne glanced from Abby to Tony, and back again.
“I was just…with what happened to Tim, I didn’t want to be alone tonight,” she murmured, feeling like a total idiot now. What kind of a needy sub turned up like this on the doorstep of the top she’d only dated a few times, and gibbered at him like an imbecile?
“Is Gibbs okay with this?” Lorne asked. Tony nodded.
“She’s just a bit freaked out – we all are. I think she could use the company – Gibbs and I aren’t much fun at the moment.”
“Would it be okay to spend the night here?” Abby asked shyly. “I think I’d feel safe here. Nothing hinky! Just to sleep – if that’s okay?”
“Sure.” Lorne stepped to one side and she tiptoed into the room, looking around her, then gave Tony a wave. He winked at her, a sexy twinkle in his eyes, and then he was gone. Lorne closed the door behind him, and then turned to her.
“You sure about this, Abs?” he asked, and she liked the way he called her ‘Abs’.
“Yes…no…just…” She was surprised to find herself crying. “Tim is one of my best friends,” she choked. His strong arms were around her in seconds and she burrowed her face into his bare chest, feeling like an idiot. “There was a lot of blood…I thought he was dead…”
“Hey, it’s okay. He’s okay. Doc said he’d be okay didn’t he?” Lorne stroked her hair softly.
“Yeah, but it all happened so fast…someone *shot* at us, Evan, at all of us. Supposing I’d lost them? They’re my family. And there was that crazy old lady on the mainland last week telling Gibbs he’d lose us all and I’m so freaked out. I don’t feel safe, Evan.”
He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes.
“I have an idea for something that would make you feel safe,” he said softly. “If you trust me? I think it’d work.”
“What is it?” she frowned.
“Do you trust me?” he asked. She gazed into his clear blue eyes and knew she did.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Will you let me undress you?” he asked. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to – promise.”
“Okay,” she said again. She knew she wanted to sleep with him – she longed to feel his hands on her body, exploring and teasing her, but it still seemed like too big a step to take. Lorne wasn’t like the crazy people she’d dated – he was nice, and normal, and fun, and if she started subbing to him she thought maybe she’d fall in love with him, and that thought scared the hell out of her. “Maybe I’m more like Tony than I think,” she murmured, with a jolt of surprise.
“What?” Lorne was grinning down at her.
“Nothing. It’s fine. You can undress me,” she said, nodding firmly.
“Good…now…I want you to stand here, and close your eyes,” he whispered, and she felt his fingers brush some of her hair away from her face. It was the first little order he’d given her and she felt a thrill of anticipation, wondering what would come next.
She closed her eyes and stood there, swaying slightly. She heard him move around the room, and get something out of a drawer. Then he was back.
“Okay – open them,” he said, and she gave a little gasp when she obeyed. He’d turned the lights down low, and lit some candles. The room looked smaller, more intimate. She gazed at the bed, which was now covered with a crimson fleecy throw.
“I’m going to undress you,” he whispered, and she felt her body loosening in anticipation. “Keep your eyes open for this part. I’ll tell you when to close them again.”
He smoothed his long, artistic fingers over her blouse, and she shivered. He undid a button, and then another, and his fingers strayed beneath the fabric, stroking her gently. She started to relax; this was going to be good.
He finished unbuttoning her blouse, and then pulled it open and slowly stripped it from her shoulders. She was wearing a lacy black bra underneath, and he stroked the lace with his fingertips, gently smoothing over her breasts, pausing just for a second on the nipples. She gave a gasp and looked into his eyes, to find them gazing at her body. She liked the way he was looking at her – like she was special, but with the intent look of a top who really knew how to take care of a sub.
He traced the bra around her back and then opened it, expertly, and pulled it forward, liberating her breasts. Then he dropped the bra on the floor and stood back, gazing at her newly released breasts.
“I always knew they were pretty,” he said, in a throaty tone. She swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off him. He reached out and gently touched his fingertips to her nipples, stroking just a little, and she moaned. “This okay, Abby? Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“No…it’s good,” she whispered.
He took her breasts in his hands and caressed them gently, rolling them with firm, strong strokes of his fingers. She relaxed even more.
“Okay…now…” His fingers dipped lower and undid her belt and soon that was on the floor too. Her short plaid skirt followed suit, and then she was standing there, in her panties, her knee high leather boots, and her collar.
He knelt down and unzipped her boots and then helped her step out of them. Next, he hooked his thumbs into her panties, and she shivered.
“Want me to stop?” he asked, pausing.
“No…s’good,” she said, wondering where this was going. He slid her panties down her legs, and she stepped out of them, now completely naked apart from her collar which she knew he wouldn’t touch.
He moved over to a box on the table and pulled out a length of rope.
“Stand still,” he told her. He placed the rope on her body, wrapped it up, under one breast, and then down the other side, circling her as he worked. Then he fastened it, pulling it tight enough that she could feel it firmly encasing her, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.
“What’s this stuff?” she asked, caressing the strands with her fingers.
“Special jute rope for tying up subs in beautiful poses,” he told her. “I’m a devotee of Shinzoic rope bondage, Abby."
"Really?" She felt surprised. "You don't strike me as being a Shinzoic Grand Master or whatever they're called.
"I'm not," he grinned. "I'm not into all the other disciplines – all the leash etiquette and total submission and domination, and subs and doms moving as one being and all that shit. I just like bondage – and they do have some really cool ideas on bondage. You okay with this?"
She nodded, intrigued. She loved bondage as much as he clearly did, and she was intrigued as to where this was going. She had been tied before, many times, but usually with cuffs and chains – this was different.
"Okay then - let me show you what I can do.”
“You are full of surprises,” she said.
He grinned and continued circling her, pulling the ropes into patterns.
“I like the way it makes a sub look, Abby…I like the pretty patterns and how the flesh is visible between the sections of rope, squeezed here and there. All I’m doing now is tying you into position – another time, I could tie you a different way…a way that would make you feel vulnerable and exposed…but today, I want to make you feel safe. You like being tied, and this is a beautiful way to be tied.”
He continued criss-crossing her with rope, pulling and tightening in places, and she loved the little brush of his fingers on her body. He tied her arms down the side of her torso, and crossed the rope over and under her breasts, squeezing them a little in a way that felt really good, making the nipples bulge out and feel ultra-sensitive.
Soon she couldn’t move at all – she was like a mummy, bound and helpless.
“Okay – now I’m going to lift you and put you on the bed,” he told her.
He took her in his arms, and she couldn’t move so much as a muscle. He laid her on bed, encased in his rope, utterly at his mercy. He got on the bed beside her, and undid her hair from its usual pigtails.
“This should be free,” he murmured. “I want to see it sweeping your shoulders…like this.” He smoothed the hair down, allowing his fingers to tangle in the dark strands. Then he started stroking her.
It was the most amazing feeling to be lying here, in this candlelit room, completely immobile. She liked the way the ropes felt on her flesh but most of all she liked that he had put them there. The ropes gave her certainty, and made her feel coddled, like a child in swaddling. She liked the comfort and security it gave her.
Out of her peripheral vision she saw the knife on the nightstand and stiffened, feeling vulnerable again.
“Hey – it’s okay. That’s just in case there’s an emergency and I have to free you in a hurry,” he told her, stroking reassuringly. “I can have you out of this in about five seconds so there’s no need to worry - and you trust me, remember?”
“I do,” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes. He grinned at her, then lowered his head and took her lips in his own, kissing and sucking gently. She sighed, and relaxed into the bondage even more.
“Feeling a bit better now?” he asked, and she smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now close your eyes again. Don’t worry – I’m not going to do anything. But I need you to promise you’ll keep them closed – okay?”
She whispered her agreement and did as he asked, and she heard him get off the bed. He bustled around the room again, but she didn’t speak. She began to relax even more. The ropes were strong, encasing her in their firm embrace; she could let go and be safe here. She heard Lorne somewhere over the other side of the room, and a sort of scratching noise, and she wondered what he was doing but she kept her eyes closed. She felt herself drifting off, into a haze, lulled by the feel of the ropes on her skin, keeping her wrapped up tight. She was safe, she was safe, she was safe.
At some point she must have fallen asleep because she awoke to the sound of his laugh, and his fingers were on her skin again.
“Whaaa?” she muttered.
“You can open your eyes now,” he told her. She did so, gazing up into his smiling face, and he kissed her and then held up a large sheet of white paper. “This is you – how I see you,” he told her.
She gave a delighted giggle – he’d painted her as she lay there, fast asleep, bound from head to foot. Her pale flesh was rendered in pink swirls, and the crimson of the comforter was contrasted against the darkness of her hair. She looked so peaceful, her breasts squeezed in their prison, nipples poking through the rope.
“You’re *good*,” she exclaimed. “I mean, you can really paint!”
“It helps to have such a beautiful muse,” he replied. She laughed.
“You are a charmer, Evan Lorne.”
“Not really.” He grinned. “You really do bring out the best in me.”
“That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen – can I keep it?” she asked.
“Sure – I did it for you. Now, are you feeling better?”
“Much.” She gazed at him for a long moment. “Evan…I…would you make love to me?” she asked. “I’d really like that now.”
“You sure?” He stroked the back of his hand along her arm. “I’m happy to just sleep next to you and hold you all night.”
“Yes…I know, you’ve been very sweet but this bondage is making me really horny!” she said and they both laughed at that. “And I remember you said some pretty sexy things about what you’d like to do to me that night we first met on the hillside on the mainland.”
“I remember,” he said, a wolfish look in his eyes. “Okay, Abby. Your wish is my command.”
He leaned over her, and she was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was, lying here, completely at his mercy. He kissed her neck and then his mouth went lower, hot and warm on her flesh. He hovered over the tip of one pointed nipple, where it poked out between the ropes, and then he took the piece of flesh in his mouth and sucked on it. Abby moaned, her entire body trying to convulse around the ropes but she was stuck fast, and all she could do was enjoy the delicious torment. He moved his mouth to the other nipple, teasing that with his tongue, and she whimpered, wishing she could put her arms around him and pull him close, but she couldn’t. All she could do was lie there, encased in her rope, unable to move an inch.
“You can’t come until I’m in you,” he told her and she gave a sigh, promising herself that she’d do her best to obey him.
He moved down, mouth covering little areas of her body, sucking and kissing the flesh as he went. Her legs were closed, fastened tight, but he slid his finger between the ropes and found her clit. She gave a started shout, her body shining with sweat as he rubbed it slowly, never taking his eyes off her the entire time. She was wet now, full of need, but he hadn’t stopped tormenting her yet. His mouth roved over her entire body while his finger kept up that insistent rhythm between her legs.
“I’m going to die soon if you don’t get inside me,” she whimpered. “I need to…I need you…”
“Ssh…” He pushed her hair away from her face. “You look so beautiful like this.” He rubbed harder on her clit and she thought she might implode with having to hold it all in. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t come…it was a delicious kind of agony, and she loved it.
He looked down on her with those loving blue eyes, and then kissed her. She opened up her mouth as his tongue gently pushed in and then he started to kiss her more passionately while still rubbing her clit.
She could feel his skin against her own, his half-naked body pressed against her own fully naked body. The ropes seemed to have sensitised every inch of her flesh and she was whimpering in earnest now as the rough fabric of his jeans brushed her naked, bound legs.
He drew back, and smiled at her.
“Okay – you’ve been good,” he said, sitting up and unbuttoning his jeans.
She gazed, rapt, as his erect cock sprang out. It was hard, urgent and curving, but he didn’t hurry himself, despite his obvious need. He pushed off his jeans so that he was naked, and then slowly untied the bottom half of her bondage, so that her legs were free. Then he pushed them apart. She felt the release as a kind of agony and ecstasy. She’d loved being tied, but she wanted to feel him inside her so much. She was desperate to take him into her body and worship him the only way she could while she was tied and defenceless.
“Ssh.” He pushed her legs open and positioned himself between them and then she felt his cock nudging at her entrance. She tried to move her thighs to hurry him in but he shook his head and pulled back. “Uh-huh – you don’t move,” he warned her.
She bit back a moan of frustration and then gave a little squeal as he pushed inside her. God he felt good! His cock was warm and hard, and he pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely. When he was fully lodged inside her he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her nipples again. The bondage had made them swell and they were unbearably sensitive so it was all she could do to stay still, but she knew that was what he wanted of her. She screamed, teetering on the brink, and he took pity on her and began thrusting.
“Can you hold on until after I come?” he asked.
“I don’t know…” she moaned.
“Try,” he ordered and she knew she’d do anything he asked of her. He kept up his steady, rhythmic strokes, deep inside her, his body pressing against hers with each inward thrust, stroking over her sensitised nipples.
“Oh god…oh god…” she whimpered. She felt him stiffen and saw from the look on his face that he was coming, and that was enough for her. She gave herself up now to the dizzying waves of pleasure that were assaulting her body and rolled with them, screaming out loud as she came, and came, and came.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, blissed out, but eventually she felt him clean her with a washcloth, and then he lay down beside her and pulled her close, still in her bonds.
“Want me to untie you, or do you want to stay like this a bit longer?” he asked.
“Mmmmm,” she replied.
“I’m sure there was an answer in there somewhere – just not sure what it was,” he chuckled.
“Mmmmm,” she told him, and he grinned, and kissed her.
“Okay. Got it. Let me know when you want out.”
“You, are definitely not boring,” she commented and he laughed.
“Neither are you.”
He held her tight, tight as the bondage she was wrapped in, and she closed her eyes. He was crazy, she thought to herself; crazy, exciting and creative – but also stable, protective, and kind of dependable. And he was in the military. And he knew how to do these amazing things with ropes and he loved doing it as much as she liked having it done to her. He could even *paint* for god’s sake! And he thought she was beautiful…It was like he was Gibbs’s perfect top for her, almost as if he had been designed from some special blueprint Gibbs had drawn up. Lorne kissed the back of her neck and she gave a deep, happy sigh.
“I feel really safe,” she told him.
“You’ll always be safe with me, Abby,” he replied, and she knew that was true.
Nobody but Gibbs had ever made her feel this way.
~*~
Tony leaned against the living room wall, reading his way through yet one more personnel file. The pile was going down but it was hard to concentrate on every single word in them. Sometimes he found he'd read a whole file but not taken any of it in. That's when he sat down to read – his sore ass kept his mind firmly on the task. Gibbs's daily spankings had been pretty severe since the whole Rodney Sheppard almost-arrest fiasco but Tony didn't mind that. He deserved it for that screw-up, and at least it showed the boss hadn't given up on him and still cared enough to make it count.
He glanced around the room to find everyone silently reading or working on something. Ducky was leaning back in the armchair, looking through his pages of notes, blinking owlishly through his specs. Abby was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the large balcony window, tapping away on one of those pads Rodney had provided for her, remotely accessing the data in her lab. McGee was sitting on the couch, legs up, arm in a sling, helping Tony go through the personnel reports. Ziva was sitting on the floor beside him, the back of her head resting easily on his good arm as she went through the interrogation data.
Tony gazed at them for a few moments, feeling a stab of envy. Ziva hadn't left McGee alone since his return to their quarters. She was hardly the type to cluck over a sub like a mother hen, but she handed him his meds and brought him his meals and helped him around if he needed it, in a quiet, unobtrusive kind of way. Personally, Tony thought the probie was milking it all a bit too much – it hadn't been as bad a wound as they'd first thought, and, apart from the sling, McGee was able to get around just fine.
Gibbs was sitting at the dining room table, files spread out around him, his poker face giving little away, as usual. Tony was a seasoned Gibbs-watcher though – in fact it was pretty much his favourite study, so he’d picked up on a few clues. He noticed the way the muscles tightened in Gibbs's jaw occasionally and the sharp, jabbing movements of his hands when he finished with a file. All of them were frustrated by the lack of progress in this case, and the lack of access to their normal facilities back on Earth wasn't helping, but the boss was feeling it worse than the rest of them. Gibbs didn't like to fail and he *really* didn't like people shooting at his subs.
Gibbs had already given them a long lecture about returning to 'good old-fashioned detective work', with a glare in McGee's direction to make it clear that technology wasn't going to help them much with this one. That was why they'd had to do so much lengthy questioning - and why Gibbs had them going through their notes and files for hours on end every single evening for the past five nights until he'd allow them some sleep.
Tony didn't actually mind good old-fashioned detective work. His approach to his work wasn't that much different to Gibbs's – he listened to his gut and he'd happily work through the night on case files in the hope of making a breakthrough.
He turned back to the file he was reading and tried to pick up the thread of it again. He glanced at the dates, and then at the photo at the top of the file, and was about to fling it onto the ‘done’ pile on the floor when something made him look again.
"McGee…isn't Colonel Beckett supposed to submit a sign-off when he takes anyone back to Earth on the Daedalus?" he asked.
McGee looked up. "Yes, Tony – there are dozens of sign-offs in these files. Some people don't stay long – particularly the people in Rodney Sheppard's department. I've been reading their exit interviews and they don't usually have anything good to say about Rodney." He picked one up from a pile beside him. "'Rude, petty, obnoxious and utterly impossible to work with,'" he quoted.
"Yeah, sounds about right," Tony said. "It's okay, Abby," he grinned as she glanced up, mouth open, ready to defend her beloved Rodney. "I know he's misunderstood, has a heart of gold and all that crap you keep telling us but you gotta admit he's hell to work for."
"I found him pretty easy actually," Abby said.
"That's because you're smart," Tony replied. "Rodney likes smart. I'm guessing some of the people they sent him weren't smart enough. Like this guy. He was only here a day, which is a record even by Rodney's standards, and then Rodney threw him out of the lab saying he'd destroy the city if he had access to anything more than the sewage system, and even then Rodney wasn't taking any chances." He grinned, reading the notes in Rodney's terse, irascible handwriting. "Man, Rodney really hates this guy. Which is strange, because according to his file he's a top scientist who's written a series of papers on exactly the kind of stuff Rodney wanted him to work on."
"Your point, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, tersely. Tony made a face – Gibbs had been in a really bad mood ever since McGee had been shot and it wasn't a good idea to keep him waiting, or irritate him more than was unavoidable.
"My point is, Rodney threw him out of the lab - but there's no chit from Steven Beckett saying he was delivered back to Earth safely on the Daedalus."
"Could have gone back through the stargate," McGee commented.
"Uh-huh. Nothing signed by Chuck in the control room either – I checked the stargate rosters and he didn't go back that way. Also, they don't tend to waste ZPM power on routine transport."
"Probably just an admin error," McGee said. "I've found a few of those. What's the date on it?"
"It's…" Tony paused. "Ah. Okay. This guy arrived a couple of days after Elizabeth Weir died. Hardly surprising the paperwork is screwed up. She usually processed the returning personnel and arranged for them to be flown out on the Daedalus's regularly scheduled trips. Admin was a bit crap for a few weeks until Richard Woolsey took over – and then it got really picky, with triplicate copies required for everything, and a whole new layer of bureaucratic shit to pick through. Uh, no offence, Ducky," he said, with an apologetic grin in Ducky's direction. He knew the ME had been spending quite a bit of what little free time he had with Woolsey of late. He assumed they were just friends because Woolsey was a sub but Ducky sure as hell did seem happy these days.
"None taken, my dear boy. I'm sure Richard is just doing his job the best way he knows how. Better to have everything well documented than poorly so," Ducky said.
"Easy for you to say, you don't have to wade through all the paperwork in the files," Tony muttered under his breath. The admin error explained the lack of a chit, and he was about to throw the file down again when he paused, something holding him back.
"DiNozzo?" Gibbs queried, and Tony realised his boss was watching him like a hawk.
"I was just thinking though…supposing this guy didn't go home? Supposing he was still here? Rodney wouldn't notice – I think we've already established that Rodney is not very good at remembering who anyone is, especially if he only met them once, for less than a day. So this guy – uh, Robert Hancock - is supposed to get shipped back out on the Daedalus, but Elizabeth's funeral takes place, and then Peter Weir commits suicide, and nobody is really picking up on that kind of thing, or checking the paperwork. So Hancock just stays here, wandering around the city at will, answering to nobody."
He had Gibbs's attention now – in fact he had everyone's attention now.
"Hiding in plain sight," Ducky murmured, gazing at him earnestly from behind his spectacles.
Tony gave a wry grin. "Works every time, Ducky - best disguise there is." He glanced at Gibbs as he said that.
"Are you saying this guy is our murderer?" Gibbs asked.
"No." Tony shut the case file with a flourish. "I'm just saying it's possible. I mean…he's filed in the 'inactive' section of their paperwork, so we haven't even called him in for questioning because he's not supposed to be here and that makes him the only person on this damn base that we *haven't* spoken to. I'm only going through his file because you're really picky…uh, I mean thorough, boss, and you insisted I even check the files of personnel who'd left the city."
"Why would a respected scientist come all the way out here, get fired by Rodney Sheppard, and then start murdering people?" Ziva asked. "It does not make any sense. I mean – it would make more sense if this person had murdered Rodney, who had said all these bad things about him and sent him packing, but not random subs. I think your theory is flawed, Tony."
"Yeah." Tony was about to throw the file down on the pile again, when he stopped. "Unless…"
Everyone sighed, and looked up again.
"DiNozzo, I swear, if you don't make your point soon I'll gag you," Gibbs said, exasperated.
"Sorry boss – but I was just thinking…why was this guy so useless? He was supposed to be a respected scientist, and I know Rodney is a scary genius who sets high standards for his staff but he's never fired one in less than a day before. Maybe…maybe this guy wasn't who he said he was? Who he was *supposed* to be. Maybe he was an impostor. Abby – can you pull up any pictures of Dr Robert Hancock – from, I don't know, scientific journals or something?" Tony asked, going over to her.
"Sure!" She cheerfully typed away for a few seconds and then drew something up. Tony glanced at it over her shoulder, and then back at the file he was holding.
"Uh-oh," he murmured. "Unless he's had some really bad work done this is not the same guy. Robert Hancock looks like Frankenstein's much less attractive older brother, while the guy in this picture looks…" He turned his head on one side, and grinned, "Kind of hot - in an older guy, Ricardo Montalban sort of way. Man, I had such a crush on Ricardo Montalban when I was a kid. Used to re-watch that Star Trek movie, The Wrath of Khan - the one where he's the top gone bad – over and over again. Montalban's got all these muscles and you can tell Kirk kind of has the hots for him but Spock isn't going to have any of it, and…"
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs interrupted sharply.
"Sorry, boss. Here…see what you think."
Tony handed the personnel file to Gibbs, and he wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting but it sure as hell wasn't the one he got. That muscle in Gibbs's jaw twitched violently, and he got up, stalked over to Ducky, and handed him the file with a taut, jerky flick of his wrist.
"Remind you of anyone?" he asked.
Ducky peered at the photograph for a second, frowning, and then Tony swore he turned a shade of green, and looked as if he was about to throw up.
"It can't be," he whispered. "Surely not, after all these years!"
"It adds up," Gibbs growled. "The medical experience, the fact he can fire a weapon with reasonable accuracy. Christ – even the way he left the bodies, Ducky! We said it looked like a message but we assumed it was a message for someone on Atlantis - not for us."
"Us?" Tony asked, with a raised eyebrow.
Gibbs made an impatient movement with his hand. "For Ducky…I mean, damn it, now it seems so obvious. The bodies were already practically autopsied – how clear a message could that be that it was aimed at Ducky?"
"You said 'us'," Tony said quietly. Gibbs's jaw did another violent twitch.
"The message was for Ducky – but the murders were aimed at me," Gibbs snapped. "Or, more precisely, on getting me out here – to Atlantis. He had to kill three times, but finally they called in NCIS to deal with it. And now we're out of our normal environment, sitting ducks for him to do whatever it is he's planning."
"Hang on – we don't know he's planning anything. We've been here a couple of weeks," Ducky pointed out. "He could have struck at us by now."
"He did!" Gibbs roared. "He shot Tim!"
"But why did he kill Jennifer Keller?" Ducky asked. "We were already here when she was murdered. Surely if the sole purpose of the murders was to draw us out here, then…"
"It was a welcome gift, Ducky. For you," Gibbs snapped. "And I don't think she was the person he actually intended to kill."
"Then who was?" Ducky asked.
Tony wished they’d both stop talking at each other and start explaining things to the rest of them.
"Carson Beckett," Gibbs replied. "Think about it; you'd spent a few hours with Carson the day we arrived, and you'd struck up a rapport with him. Carson is a Scottish doctor – just like you. Carson was supposed to be a warning to you, a statement of intent if you like. Now, he knew that Carson's husband was going to be in his quarters that night, so he set the fire on the Daedalus – that fulfilled two purposes – it enabled him to steal a gun, just in case, and it was supposed to get Steven out of the way, leaving Carson alone and vulnerable. He didn't count on the fact that they'd both have their radios turned off so Steven didn't hear about the fire until much later. He broke into their quarters, found Steven was still there, and knew it wasn't worth the risk going through with it so he left again."
"My god…" Ducky whispered.
Gibbs got up and began to pace furiously around the room. "Remember Carson woke up?" Gibbs grabbed a file from a pile on the table and found the notes he was looking for. "Carson woke up because he heard something – someone breaking into their quarters - and he smelled something…"
"Chloroform," Ducky murmured. "That's what he used on Jennifer Keller – it has a highly distinctive and really quite strong smell. Are you saying that he intended to use it to knock out Carson?"
"Yes - then to butcher him and leave him for you to autopsy. His plans were thwarted, but he's determined, so he went down the hallway looking for another victim."
"He stopped by Rodney Sheppard's lab…" Tony said, glancing at the file over Gibbs's shoulder. Tony wasn't sure where this was going but he could guess this bit. "Tried the door but it was locked – and Rodney alerted John. Not worth the effort killing Rodney, either, especially not with the possibility of General Sheppard on his way there – not enough time."
"So he went to the infirmary – and found Keller – not the victim he'd intended but she'd do. She had at least had contact with Ducky so he knew her and her death would mean something to you, Ducky. That was the point – it had to mean something to you – to feel personal to you. He didn't even have to move her body; he could do the autopsy right there. He must have been pretty pleased with himself for how that turned out," Gibbs said tersely.
"But why would he do something like this?" Ducky whispered. "I mean…I know he was an overbearing bully, but a murderer?"
Gibbs stared into space for a moment, thinking about it. "I'm not sure. I know what my gut is telling me but I can't be sure."
"Does this guy have a name?" Abby asked.
"And are you two going to explain what the hell is going on?" Tony demanded.
Gibbs looked as if he was about to drive his fist through the nearest wall. He glanced at Ducky, who glanced back at him. Then Ducky gave a little nod.
"It's all right, Jethro. You can tell them," he said softly.
"Randolph Jordan," Gibbs said tersely. "Our killer's name is Randolph Jordan."
"And he used to be my husband," Ducky added softly.
~*~
"So you used to be married, Ducky?" Tony asked, as they all followed Gibbs down the hallway towards the conference room, to meet with Woolsey, General Sheppard and the command team on Atlantis. "And to a murdering psycho top?"
"Well, to be fair, Anthony," Ducky replied, "He certainly wasn't a murdering psycho top when I married him."
"Psycho bit fits if you ask me though, Duck," Gibbs threw back over his shoulder. Ducky winced.
"You didn't know him when he was nineteen, Jethro!" he protested. "No…he really wasn't like that at all. Jealous perhaps, very possessive, and a little bit overbearing but a murderer? No."
He remembered sitting next to the tall, broad, incredibly handsome young top at the dissecting table for the first time during an anatomy class, and how Randolph's big hands had wielded a small scalpel. He'd laughed out loud at how incongruous that looked, and Randolph had looked up at him and fixed him to the ground with those dark, brooding eyes of his. Ducky had felt a wave of sheer, physical lust that hit his gut with a force that almost knocked him off balance.
"Are you laughing at me?" Randolph asked, in a quiet voice. Ducky shook his head.
"Good lord no! Just at your hands! They need to make the scalpels in a larger size," he said.
Randolph's brown eyes remained fixed on him, and then his face broke into a slow grin. "You're interesting," he said. "I like interesting. Randolph Jordan." He held out his hand and Ducky took it, feeling a surge of excitement.
"Donald Mallard," he said. "Although my friends call me Ducky."
"I won't," Randolph promised, in a low, intense tone. "I'll call you boy, maybe, or pet. If you're good I'll call you Donald - but I'll never call you Ducky."
And that was how it had started – lord knows, if he'd had any idea of how it would end he'd have run out of that room there and then and never gone back, medical studies be damned.
They reached the conference room to find John, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon and Richard Woolsey already there. Carson and Steven Beckett joined them a second later, and then Evan Lorne.
Gibbs filled them in as briefly as possible. Ducky sat there, wondering how it was possible for his whole world to have fallen apart in such a short space of time.
"I am so sorry," he said, when Gibbs had finished. "I feel we've brought this upon you all somehow."
"Not your fault, Ducky," Gibbs said firmly.
"Why Atlantis?" Richard asked. "Why did he bring you out here? Why not kill people back on Earth if he wanted Gibbs's attention?"
"Well, he always did have a remarkable fascination for the legends of the lost city of Atlantis, even back when I first met him," Ducky mused. "I thought it was all a bit silly to be honest, but I humoured him when he spent a fortune on books and ancient artefacts and the like. Then when his older sister died in a sudden, tragic accident, he abandoned his medical studies and took over the running of the family company."
"Jordan Tech," Gibbs said tersely.
"Oh shit," John sighed. "They're one of the few tech companies that have stargate clearance. He'd have been in regular contact with some top level scientists and some of them would definitely have been working on the stargate programme."
"Uh…it says on his personnel notes that Robert Hancock worked at Jordan Tech prior to getting the job on Atlantis," McGee noted, holding up the file.
"And Randolph had more than enough money and influence to ensure Robert Hancock quietly disappeared, while he took his place on the expedition," Ducky said with a sigh. "I rather think he was killing two birds with one stone – he got to see the lost city of Atlantis, a place he's been obsessed with all his life, and he also got to lure Jethro here, away from the relative safety of NCIS. I fear it must be his plan for him to have revenge on Jethro for taking me away from him all those years ago."
He felt Gibbs's hand come to rest on his shoulder, and his top squeezed, gently. He placed his own hand over Gibbs's, thankful for the reassurance.
"Randolph was very embarrassed when I took another top's collar and asked him for a divorce," Ducky continued. "I didn't take a penny of his money although god knows I was entitled, but I didn't want anything more to do with the man."
"He still wanted something to do with you though," Gibbs said. "He followed you, he sent you those letters…he used to wait for you to finish work and he'd try and browbeat you into going back to him. In the end I had to take out a restraining order on him. It's still in force," he added.
"I've been looking over my shoulder every day since then," Ducky murmured. "And it's made me extremely grateful for Jethro's collar which at least affords me some protection. He's never stopped trying to contact me, even after all these years, and even despite the restraining order. Jethro is all that keeps him at bay I suspect - he's a coward at heart and is afraid of Jethro. I thought he had been quiet for the past few months. I suppose I hoped he'd finally forgotten about me."
"Question is – what exactly is his revenge?" John asked. "I mean…he took a shot at McGee, but apart from that he's left you well alone since you arrived."
"I know. That *is* puzzling," Ducky mused.
"I knew he was a crap scientist," Rodney said.
"He wasn't a scientist at all, I'm afraid," Ducky said. "He didn't finish his medical degree, either, although he did learn enough during those years he was studying to be able to accurately dissect the bodies of those marines, and poor Dr Keller."
"Don't under-estimate him though," Gibbs said tersely. "He's a smart man - he's made Jordan Tech into the biggest and most sophisticated tech company in the US. He's dedicated, pays great attention to detail, and is extremely ruthless."
"So what's his next move?" Tony asked.
"Arrest, hopefully," Gibbs growled.
"I've sent his picture all around the base – he won't be able to hide for long. He'll need to come out to eat if nothing else," John said. "And I already checked his quarters – no sign of him there, although it's clear he was there until fairly recently. We did find this though." He slammed down a piece of tech the size of a pea on the table. "His subcutaneous transmitter – everyone on Atlantis is fitted with one on arrival. He must have cut it out so he couldn't be tracked."
"What about your life-signs detectors?" McGee asked. "I know they won't be able to pinpoint which life-sign is his but they could show if there's a life-sign away from the main area of the city, hiding somewhere?"
"I did a sweep already," Rodney said. "There are dozens of life-signs on their own – as you'd expect in a city this size – but none of them is anywhere I wouldn't expect them to be."
"I've sent a team of marines to track down every single lone life-sign on the grid and see who it is but that's going to take some time," John added.
"And I've sent a message to Earth asking for every detail they have on him," Rodney said. "Should have the information back in the next databurst."
"We'll find him," Woolsey said.
"I hope so," Ducky sighed. "But Jethro is right - don't under-estimate the man; I was married to him for twenty-odd years, and he's a force to be reckoned with. What Randolph Jordan wants, Randolph Jordan gets…that's why he was so upset when I left him. He's not a man who can bear to lose."
"Neither am I," Gibbs said, in a low, dangerous tone.
Ducky shook his head, smiling wryly, and that was the last thing he remembered before everything went black, and his head hit the table.
~*~
"Wake up, Rodney."
He felt a sharp slap across the face, and moaned. Something was fastened over his face and he coughed, trying to get rid of a foul taste in his mouth. He breathed, and his lungs became flooded with clean air and that woke him. He blinked, and as his vision cleared he saw a man in a hazmat suit, kneeling in front of him. The man slapped him again.
"I said, wake up. We don't have much time," the man told him. Rodney blinked again, trying to make out the man's features. Then he realised who it was and he tried to scream, but didn't get the sound out before he was slapped again, and this time the slap sent him flying sideways.
"I see you recognise me," Jordan said.
"What are you doing here?" Rodney said, pulling the mask away from his mouth a fraction so that he could talk, and then pressing it back again in order to take another gulp of clean air. He looked around the room to see that everyone else was out cold. Gibbs was on the floor, Dr Mallard sitting at the table, face down, DiNozzo sprawled out beside McGee, and John… John was lying slumped over the table, his eyes closed, unconscious.
"John!" He got up, but Jordan grabbed him and slapped him again.
"He's fine – and he'll continue to be fine for as long as you co-operate with me," he said. "If you don't – I'll kill him." He pointed at the small incendiary device strapped around John's throat.
"What have you done?" Rodney asked, aghast.
"Just ensuring your co-operation, Rodney," Jordan said, with a macabre grin. He was a big man, really tall, broad-shouldered and imposing. "I've released a drug into the Atlantis ventilation system. It's recycling so it'll keep them all unconscious until I'm done. As for that bomb strapped around your husband's throat – that's for your benefit. It's only small – it'll probably only deliver minor burns to the people sitting near him, but if I set it off it'll decapitate him – immediately."
Rodney gazed at the man, horrified. "You can't do this," he hissed.
"I already have, Rodney."
"There's a lock-down system on Atlantis - the city will have detected any airborne…" Rodney began. Jordan slapped him again.
"I over-rode the system," he said. "And you have got to learn to stop talking and start listening. God knows how your top puts up with you. I'd keep you gagged if you were mine."
"You over-rode the system?" Rodney asked, and then he flinched, waiting for the slap. It didn't come.
"Yes, Rodney. I know you had a low opinion of my work as a scientist, but I know a lot more about Atlantis than you might think. Besides, I've had three months to study all her schematics. I know how this place works." And then he slapped Rodney again, so hard he fell over. "You'll learn," Jordan said. "Subs always do eventually if you hit them hard enough."
"What do you want from me?" Rodney asked, panicked. His jaw hurt from all the slaps, and he was trying his hardest not to send his distress to his husband through the lifebond. He wasn't sure if it would reach John anyway, as his top was unconscious, but he didn't want his husband coming to and Jordan carrying out his threat to blow his head off.
Jordan grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.
"I want an accomplice," he said. "I have plans, Rodney – and you're going to help me make them happen."
"And if I don't?" Rodney thrust out his jaw obstinately. Jordan laughed and gestured with his head in John's direction.
"Then I guess your top will be losing his head," he said.
"If he dies, so do I," Rodney muttered. "We're lifebonded."
"Doesn't matter. I'll just wake up one of the other scientists if that happens," Jordan replied, with a careless shrug. "I chose you because you're the best, but one of the others will do. Nobody is coming to rescue you, Rodney. Everyone in the city is fast asleep – and nobody is going to wake up until I want them to."
He threw Rodney a hazmat suit and nodded to him to put it on. Rodney did as he was told. Maybe he'd find a way to thwart this man's plans later but for now he didn't see he had any option but to co-operate. He watched as Jordan went over to where Ducky was sitting. Jordan paused beside the doctor, then crouched down beside him and gently stroked his blond hair.
"Don't hurt him!" Rodney found himself saying and then he winced, wondering what the retribution would be for that but Jordan just shook his head.
"Donald is mine, Rodney. I'll hurt him if I want but that's not what I'm here for. Besides, he isn't really the one I want to hurt."
He got up, and went over to where Gibbs was lying on the floor. Rodney finished getting into the hazmat suit, and watched as Jordan crouched over the unconscious agent.
"He's the one I want to hurt," Jordan murmured, with a kind of twisted, gloating satisfaction.
"Are you going to kill him?" Rodney asked. Gibbs was out cold and vulnerable; Jordan could do what he liked to the man.
"Oh no." Jordan smiled icily. "I don't want to kill him. I want to hurt him, Rodney, and there are much better ways to hurt a man than by killing him. Ah…Leroy Jethro Gibbs…at last I have you at my mercy. It's been a long time coming but they do say that revenge is a dish best served cold."
He got up, and then delivered a savage kick to Gibbs's midriff. Rodney winced.
"Let's hope the pain keeps you focussed," Jordan murmured to Gibbs's prone body. "Because it's only going to get worse from here on in."
~*~
End of Part Eleven
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Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Twelve
Author: Xanthe
Fandom: SGA/NCIS crossover
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo, John/Rodney, Carson/Caldwell, Teyla/Ronon, Ziva/McGee, and some other pairings that would spoil the story if I revealed them. Gibbs/Ducky friendship.
Rating: NC17 for explicit BDSM sex (m/m slash, femslash and het) and spanking.
Author's Notes
Summary: When a serial killer murders three marines on Atlantis, NCIS are called in to investigate. However, their arrival brings complications for everyone – revealing a lie, a prophecy, a secret and a nemesis.
Part Eleven: “Man, I had such a crush on Ricardo Montalban when I was a kid. Used to re-watch that Star Trek movie, The Wrath of Khan - the one where he's the top gone bad – over and over again. Montalban's got all these muscles and you can tell Kirk kind of has the hots for him but Spock isn't going to have any of it, and…"
Hiding in Plain Sight
By Xanthe
Part Eleven
They reached Lorne’s door and she knocked on it nervously, wondering if he’d really be pleased to see her. He opened it and her heart skipped a beat. He was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans and nothing else – nothing on his chest, which was broad, smooth and well muscled, and nothing on his feet either.
“Oh…uh…” she stared at him blankly.
“Don’t know what you see in him, Abs,” Tony whispered wickedly in her ear, and she saw his eyes flicker appreciatively over Lorne’s attractive body as well.
“Is everything okay, Abby?” Lorne said, reaching for a shirt and starting to pull it on.
“NO! Uh…I mean, you don’t have to get dressed on my account – just stay half-naked…oh, shit, that sounded SO wrong,” she muttered. Lorne laughed but he held off putting the shirt on, which pleased her.
“What’s going on?” Lorne glanced from Abby to Tony, and back again.
“I was just…with what happened to Tim, I didn’t want to be alone tonight,” she murmured, feeling like a total idiot now. What kind of a needy sub turned up like this on the doorstep of the top she’d only dated a few times, and gibbered at him like an imbecile?
“Is Gibbs okay with this?” Lorne asked. Tony nodded.
“She’s just a bit freaked out – we all are. I think she could use the company – Gibbs and I aren’t much fun at the moment.”
“Would it be okay to spend the night here?” Abby asked shyly. “I think I’d feel safe here. Nothing hinky! Just to sleep – if that’s okay?”
“Sure.” Lorne stepped to one side and she tiptoed into the room, looking around her, then gave Tony a wave. He winked at her, a sexy twinkle in his eyes, and then he was gone. Lorne closed the door behind him, and then turned to her.
“You sure about this, Abs?” he asked, and she liked the way he called her ‘Abs’.
“Yes…no…just…” She was surprised to find herself crying. “Tim is one of my best friends,” she choked. His strong arms were around her in seconds and she burrowed her face into his bare chest, feeling like an idiot. “There was a lot of blood…I thought he was dead…”
“Hey, it’s okay. He’s okay. Doc said he’d be okay didn’t he?” Lorne stroked her hair softly.
“Yeah, but it all happened so fast…someone *shot* at us, Evan, at all of us. Supposing I’d lost them? They’re my family. And there was that crazy old lady on the mainland last week telling Gibbs he’d lose us all and I’m so freaked out. I don’t feel safe, Evan.”
He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes.
“I have an idea for something that would make you feel safe,” he said softly. “If you trust me? I think it’d work.”
“What is it?” she frowned.
“Do you trust me?” he asked. She gazed into his clear blue eyes and knew she did.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Will you let me undress you?” he asked. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to – promise.”
“Okay,” she said again. She knew she wanted to sleep with him – she longed to feel his hands on her body, exploring and teasing her, but it still seemed like too big a step to take. Lorne wasn’t like the crazy people she’d dated – he was nice, and normal, and fun, and if she started subbing to him she thought maybe she’d fall in love with him, and that thought scared the hell out of her. “Maybe I’m more like Tony than I think,” she murmured, with a jolt of surprise.
“What?” Lorne was grinning down at her.
“Nothing. It’s fine. You can undress me,” she said, nodding firmly.
“Good…now…I want you to stand here, and close your eyes,” he whispered, and she felt his fingers brush some of her hair away from her face. It was the first little order he’d given her and she felt a thrill of anticipation, wondering what would come next.
She closed her eyes and stood there, swaying slightly. She heard him move around the room, and get something out of a drawer. Then he was back.
“Okay – open them,” he said, and she gave a little gasp when she obeyed. He’d turned the lights down low, and lit some candles. The room looked smaller, more intimate. She gazed at the bed, which was now covered with a crimson fleecy throw.
“I’m going to undress you,” he whispered, and she felt her body loosening in anticipation. “Keep your eyes open for this part. I’ll tell you when to close them again.”
He smoothed his long, artistic fingers over her blouse, and she shivered. He undid a button, and then another, and his fingers strayed beneath the fabric, stroking her gently. She started to relax; this was going to be good.
He finished unbuttoning her blouse, and then pulled it open and slowly stripped it from her shoulders. She was wearing a lacy black bra underneath, and he stroked the lace with his fingertips, gently smoothing over her breasts, pausing just for a second on the nipples. She gave a gasp and looked into his eyes, to find them gazing at her body. She liked the way he was looking at her – like she was special, but with the intent look of a top who really knew how to take care of a sub.
He traced the bra around her back and then opened it, expertly, and pulled it forward, liberating her breasts. Then he dropped the bra on the floor and stood back, gazing at her newly released breasts.
“I always knew they were pretty,” he said, in a throaty tone. She swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off him. He reached out and gently touched his fingertips to her nipples, stroking just a little, and she moaned. “This okay, Abby? Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“No…it’s good,” she whispered.
He took her breasts in his hands and caressed them gently, rolling them with firm, strong strokes of his fingers. She relaxed even more.
“Okay…now…” His fingers dipped lower and undid her belt and soon that was on the floor too. Her short plaid skirt followed suit, and then she was standing there, in her panties, her knee high leather boots, and her collar.
He knelt down and unzipped her boots and then helped her step out of them. Next, he hooked his thumbs into her panties, and she shivered.
“Want me to stop?” he asked, pausing.
“No…s’good,” she said, wondering where this was going. He slid her panties down her legs, and she stepped out of them, now completely naked apart from her collar which she knew he wouldn’t touch.
He moved over to a box on the table and pulled out a length of rope.
“Stand still,” he told her. He placed the rope on her body, wrapped it up, under one breast, and then down the other side, circling her as he worked. Then he fastened it, pulling it tight enough that she could feel it firmly encasing her, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.
“What’s this stuff?” she asked, caressing the strands with her fingers.
“Special jute rope for tying up subs in beautiful poses,” he told her. “I’m a devotee of Shinzoic rope bondage, Abby."
"Really?" She felt surprised. "You don't strike me as being a Shinzoic Grand Master or whatever they're called.
"I'm not," he grinned. "I'm not into all the other disciplines – all the leash etiquette and total submission and domination, and subs and doms moving as one being and all that shit. I just like bondage – and they do have some really cool ideas on bondage. You okay with this?"
She nodded, intrigued. She loved bondage as much as he clearly did, and she was intrigued as to where this was going. She had been tied before, many times, but usually with cuffs and chains – this was different.
"Okay then - let me show you what I can do.”
“You are full of surprises,” she said.
He grinned and continued circling her, pulling the ropes into patterns.
“I like the way it makes a sub look, Abby…I like the pretty patterns and how the flesh is visible between the sections of rope, squeezed here and there. All I’m doing now is tying you into position – another time, I could tie you a different way…a way that would make you feel vulnerable and exposed…but today, I want to make you feel safe. You like being tied, and this is a beautiful way to be tied.”
He continued criss-crossing her with rope, pulling and tightening in places, and she loved the little brush of his fingers on her body. He tied her arms down the side of her torso, and crossed the rope over and under her breasts, squeezing them a little in a way that felt really good, making the nipples bulge out and feel ultra-sensitive.
Soon she couldn’t move at all – she was like a mummy, bound and helpless.
“Okay – now I’m going to lift you and put you on the bed,” he told her.
He took her in his arms, and she couldn’t move so much as a muscle. He laid her on bed, encased in his rope, utterly at his mercy. He got on the bed beside her, and undid her hair from its usual pigtails.
“This should be free,” he murmured. “I want to see it sweeping your shoulders…like this.” He smoothed the hair down, allowing his fingers to tangle in the dark strands. Then he started stroking her.
It was the most amazing feeling to be lying here, in this candlelit room, completely immobile. She liked the way the ropes felt on her flesh but most of all she liked that he had put them there. The ropes gave her certainty, and made her feel coddled, like a child in swaddling. She liked the comfort and security it gave her.
Out of her peripheral vision she saw the knife on the nightstand and stiffened, feeling vulnerable again.
“Hey – it’s okay. That’s just in case there’s an emergency and I have to free you in a hurry,” he told her, stroking reassuringly. “I can have you out of this in about five seconds so there’s no need to worry - and you trust me, remember?”
“I do,” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes. He grinned at her, then lowered his head and took her lips in his own, kissing and sucking gently. She sighed, and relaxed into the bondage even more.
“Feeling a bit better now?” he asked, and she smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now close your eyes again. Don’t worry – I’m not going to do anything. But I need you to promise you’ll keep them closed – okay?”
She whispered her agreement and did as he asked, and she heard him get off the bed. He bustled around the room again, but she didn’t speak. She began to relax even more. The ropes were strong, encasing her in their firm embrace; she could let go and be safe here. She heard Lorne somewhere over the other side of the room, and a sort of scratching noise, and she wondered what he was doing but she kept her eyes closed. She felt herself drifting off, into a haze, lulled by the feel of the ropes on her skin, keeping her wrapped up tight. She was safe, she was safe, she was safe.
At some point she must have fallen asleep because she awoke to the sound of his laugh, and his fingers were on her skin again.
“Whaaa?” she muttered.
“You can open your eyes now,” he told her. She did so, gazing up into his smiling face, and he kissed her and then held up a large sheet of white paper. “This is you – how I see you,” he told her.
She gave a delighted giggle – he’d painted her as she lay there, fast asleep, bound from head to foot. Her pale flesh was rendered in pink swirls, and the crimson of the comforter was contrasted against the darkness of her hair. She looked so peaceful, her breasts squeezed in their prison, nipples poking through the rope.
“You’re *good*,” she exclaimed. “I mean, you can really paint!”
“It helps to have such a beautiful muse,” he replied. She laughed.
“You are a charmer, Evan Lorne.”
“Not really.” He grinned. “You really do bring out the best in me.”
“That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen – can I keep it?” she asked.
“Sure – I did it for you. Now, are you feeling better?”
“Much.” She gazed at him for a long moment. “Evan…I…would you make love to me?” she asked. “I’d really like that now.”
“You sure?” He stroked the back of his hand along her arm. “I’m happy to just sleep next to you and hold you all night.”
“Yes…I know, you’ve been very sweet but this bondage is making me really horny!” she said and they both laughed at that. “And I remember you said some pretty sexy things about what you’d like to do to me that night we first met on the hillside on the mainland.”
“I remember,” he said, a wolfish look in his eyes. “Okay, Abby. Your wish is my command.”
He leaned over her, and she was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was, lying here, completely at his mercy. He kissed her neck and then his mouth went lower, hot and warm on her flesh. He hovered over the tip of one pointed nipple, where it poked out between the ropes, and then he took the piece of flesh in his mouth and sucked on it. Abby moaned, her entire body trying to convulse around the ropes but she was stuck fast, and all she could do was enjoy the delicious torment. He moved his mouth to the other nipple, teasing that with his tongue, and she whimpered, wishing she could put her arms around him and pull him close, but she couldn’t. All she could do was lie there, encased in her rope, unable to move an inch.
“You can’t come until I’m in you,” he told her and she gave a sigh, promising herself that she’d do her best to obey him.
He moved down, mouth covering little areas of her body, sucking and kissing the flesh as he went. Her legs were closed, fastened tight, but he slid his finger between the ropes and found her clit. She gave a started shout, her body shining with sweat as he rubbed it slowly, never taking his eyes off her the entire time. She was wet now, full of need, but he hadn’t stopped tormenting her yet. His mouth roved over her entire body while his finger kept up that insistent rhythm between her legs.
“I’m going to die soon if you don’t get inside me,” she whimpered. “I need to…I need you…”
“Ssh…” He pushed her hair away from her face. “You look so beautiful like this.” He rubbed harder on her clit and she thought she might implode with having to hold it all in. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t come…it was a delicious kind of agony, and she loved it.
He looked down on her with those loving blue eyes, and then kissed her. She opened up her mouth as his tongue gently pushed in and then he started to kiss her more passionately while still rubbing her clit.
She could feel his skin against her own, his half-naked body pressed against her own fully naked body. The ropes seemed to have sensitised every inch of her flesh and she was whimpering in earnest now as the rough fabric of his jeans brushed her naked, bound legs.
He drew back, and smiled at her.
“Okay – you’ve been good,” he said, sitting up and unbuttoning his jeans.
She gazed, rapt, as his erect cock sprang out. It was hard, urgent and curving, but he didn’t hurry himself, despite his obvious need. He pushed off his jeans so that he was naked, and then slowly untied the bottom half of her bondage, so that her legs were free. Then he pushed them apart. She felt the release as a kind of agony and ecstasy. She’d loved being tied, but she wanted to feel him inside her so much. She was desperate to take him into her body and worship him the only way she could while she was tied and defenceless.
“Ssh.” He pushed her legs open and positioned himself between them and then she felt his cock nudging at her entrance. She tried to move her thighs to hurry him in but he shook his head and pulled back. “Uh-huh – you don’t move,” he warned her.
She bit back a moan of frustration and then gave a little squeal as he pushed inside her. God he felt good! His cock was warm and hard, and he pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely. When he was fully lodged inside her he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her nipples again. The bondage had made them swell and they were unbearably sensitive so it was all she could do to stay still, but she knew that was what he wanted of her. She screamed, teetering on the brink, and he took pity on her and began thrusting.
“Can you hold on until after I come?” he asked.
“I don’t know…” she moaned.
“Try,” he ordered and she knew she’d do anything he asked of her. He kept up his steady, rhythmic strokes, deep inside her, his body pressing against hers with each inward thrust, stroking over her sensitised nipples.
“Oh god…oh god…” she whimpered. She felt him stiffen and saw from the look on his face that he was coming, and that was enough for her. She gave herself up now to the dizzying waves of pleasure that were assaulting her body and rolled with them, screaming out loud as she came, and came, and came.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, blissed out, but eventually she felt him clean her with a washcloth, and then he lay down beside her and pulled her close, still in her bonds.
“Want me to untie you, or do you want to stay like this a bit longer?” he asked.
“Mmmmm,” she replied.
“I’m sure there was an answer in there somewhere – just not sure what it was,” he chuckled.
“Mmmmm,” she told him, and he grinned, and kissed her.
“Okay. Got it. Let me know when you want out.”
“You, are definitely not boring,” she commented and he laughed.
“Neither are you.”
He held her tight, tight as the bondage she was wrapped in, and she closed her eyes. He was crazy, she thought to herself; crazy, exciting and creative – but also stable, protective, and kind of dependable. And he was in the military. And he knew how to do these amazing things with ropes and he loved doing it as much as she liked having it done to her. He could even *paint* for god’s sake! And he thought she was beautiful…It was like he was Gibbs’s perfect top for her, almost as if he had been designed from some special blueprint Gibbs had drawn up. Lorne kissed the back of her neck and she gave a deep, happy sigh.
“I feel really safe,” she told him.
“You’ll always be safe with me, Abby,” he replied, and she knew that was true.
Nobody but Gibbs had ever made her feel this way.
~*~
Tony leaned against the living room wall, reading his way through yet one more personnel file. The pile was going down but it was hard to concentrate on every single word in them. Sometimes he found he'd read a whole file but not taken any of it in. That's when he sat down to read – his sore ass kept his mind firmly on the task. Gibbs's daily spankings had been pretty severe since the whole Rodney Sheppard almost-arrest fiasco but Tony didn't mind that. He deserved it for that screw-up, and at least it showed the boss hadn't given up on him and still cared enough to make it count.
He glanced around the room to find everyone silently reading or working on something. Ducky was leaning back in the armchair, looking through his pages of notes, blinking owlishly through his specs. Abby was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the large balcony window, tapping away on one of those pads Rodney had provided for her, remotely accessing the data in her lab. McGee was sitting on the couch, legs up, arm in a sling, helping Tony go through the personnel reports. Ziva was sitting on the floor beside him, the back of her head resting easily on his good arm as she went through the interrogation data.
Tony gazed at them for a few moments, feeling a stab of envy. Ziva hadn't left McGee alone since his return to their quarters. She was hardly the type to cluck over a sub like a mother hen, but she handed him his meds and brought him his meals and helped him around if he needed it, in a quiet, unobtrusive kind of way. Personally, Tony thought the probie was milking it all a bit too much – it hadn't been as bad a wound as they'd first thought, and, apart from the sling, McGee was able to get around just fine.
Gibbs was sitting at the dining room table, files spread out around him, his poker face giving little away, as usual. Tony was a seasoned Gibbs-watcher though – in fact it was pretty much his favourite study, so he’d picked up on a few clues. He noticed the way the muscles tightened in Gibbs's jaw occasionally and the sharp, jabbing movements of his hands when he finished with a file. All of them were frustrated by the lack of progress in this case, and the lack of access to their normal facilities back on Earth wasn't helping, but the boss was feeling it worse than the rest of them. Gibbs didn't like to fail and he *really* didn't like people shooting at his subs.
Gibbs had already given them a long lecture about returning to 'good old-fashioned detective work', with a glare in McGee's direction to make it clear that technology wasn't going to help them much with this one. That was why they'd had to do so much lengthy questioning - and why Gibbs had them going through their notes and files for hours on end every single evening for the past five nights until he'd allow them some sleep.
Tony didn't actually mind good old-fashioned detective work. His approach to his work wasn't that much different to Gibbs's – he listened to his gut and he'd happily work through the night on case files in the hope of making a breakthrough.
He turned back to the file he was reading and tried to pick up the thread of it again. He glanced at the dates, and then at the photo at the top of the file, and was about to fling it onto the ‘done’ pile on the floor when something made him look again.
"McGee…isn't Colonel Beckett supposed to submit a sign-off when he takes anyone back to Earth on the Daedalus?" he asked.
McGee looked up. "Yes, Tony – there are dozens of sign-offs in these files. Some people don't stay long – particularly the people in Rodney Sheppard's department. I've been reading their exit interviews and they don't usually have anything good to say about Rodney." He picked one up from a pile beside him. "'Rude, petty, obnoxious and utterly impossible to work with,'" he quoted.
"Yeah, sounds about right," Tony said. "It's okay, Abby," he grinned as she glanced up, mouth open, ready to defend her beloved Rodney. "I know he's misunderstood, has a heart of gold and all that crap you keep telling us but you gotta admit he's hell to work for."
"I found him pretty easy actually," Abby said.
"That's because you're smart," Tony replied. "Rodney likes smart. I'm guessing some of the people they sent him weren't smart enough. Like this guy. He was only here a day, which is a record even by Rodney's standards, and then Rodney threw him out of the lab saying he'd destroy the city if he had access to anything more than the sewage system, and even then Rodney wasn't taking any chances." He grinned, reading the notes in Rodney's terse, irascible handwriting. "Man, Rodney really hates this guy. Which is strange, because according to his file he's a top scientist who's written a series of papers on exactly the kind of stuff Rodney wanted him to work on."
"Your point, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, tersely. Tony made a face – Gibbs had been in a really bad mood ever since McGee had been shot and it wasn't a good idea to keep him waiting, or irritate him more than was unavoidable.
"My point is, Rodney threw him out of the lab - but there's no chit from Steven Beckett saying he was delivered back to Earth safely on the Daedalus."
"Could have gone back through the stargate," McGee commented.
"Uh-huh. Nothing signed by Chuck in the control room either – I checked the stargate rosters and he didn't go back that way. Also, they don't tend to waste ZPM power on routine transport."
"Probably just an admin error," McGee said. "I've found a few of those. What's the date on it?"
"It's…" Tony paused. "Ah. Okay. This guy arrived a couple of days after Elizabeth Weir died. Hardly surprising the paperwork is screwed up. She usually processed the returning personnel and arranged for them to be flown out on the Daedalus's regularly scheduled trips. Admin was a bit crap for a few weeks until Richard Woolsey took over – and then it got really picky, with triplicate copies required for everything, and a whole new layer of bureaucratic shit to pick through. Uh, no offence, Ducky," he said, with an apologetic grin in Ducky's direction. He knew the ME had been spending quite a bit of what little free time he had with Woolsey of late. He assumed they were just friends because Woolsey was a sub but Ducky sure as hell did seem happy these days.
"None taken, my dear boy. I'm sure Richard is just doing his job the best way he knows how. Better to have everything well documented than poorly so," Ducky said.
"Easy for you to say, you don't have to wade through all the paperwork in the files," Tony muttered under his breath. The admin error explained the lack of a chit, and he was about to throw the file down again when he paused, something holding him back.
"DiNozzo?" Gibbs queried, and Tony realised his boss was watching him like a hawk.
"I was just thinking though…supposing this guy didn't go home? Supposing he was still here? Rodney wouldn't notice – I think we've already established that Rodney is not very good at remembering who anyone is, especially if he only met them once, for less than a day. So this guy – uh, Robert Hancock - is supposed to get shipped back out on the Daedalus, but Elizabeth's funeral takes place, and then Peter Weir commits suicide, and nobody is really picking up on that kind of thing, or checking the paperwork. So Hancock just stays here, wandering around the city at will, answering to nobody."
He had Gibbs's attention now – in fact he had everyone's attention now.
"Hiding in plain sight," Ducky murmured, gazing at him earnestly from behind his spectacles.
Tony gave a wry grin. "Works every time, Ducky - best disguise there is." He glanced at Gibbs as he said that.
"Are you saying this guy is our murderer?" Gibbs asked.
"No." Tony shut the case file with a flourish. "I'm just saying it's possible. I mean…he's filed in the 'inactive' section of their paperwork, so we haven't even called him in for questioning because he's not supposed to be here and that makes him the only person on this damn base that we *haven't* spoken to. I'm only going through his file because you're really picky…uh, I mean thorough, boss, and you insisted I even check the files of personnel who'd left the city."
"Why would a respected scientist come all the way out here, get fired by Rodney Sheppard, and then start murdering people?" Ziva asked. "It does not make any sense. I mean – it would make more sense if this person had murdered Rodney, who had said all these bad things about him and sent him packing, but not random subs. I think your theory is flawed, Tony."
"Yeah." Tony was about to throw the file down on the pile again, when he stopped. "Unless…"
Everyone sighed, and looked up again.
"DiNozzo, I swear, if you don't make your point soon I'll gag you," Gibbs said, exasperated.
"Sorry boss – but I was just thinking…why was this guy so useless? He was supposed to be a respected scientist, and I know Rodney is a scary genius who sets high standards for his staff but he's never fired one in less than a day before. Maybe…maybe this guy wasn't who he said he was? Who he was *supposed* to be. Maybe he was an impostor. Abby – can you pull up any pictures of Dr Robert Hancock – from, I don't know, scientific journals or something?" Tony asked, going over to her.
"Sure!" She cheerfully typed away for a few seconds and then drew something up. Tony glanced at it over her shoulder, and then back at the file he was holding.
"Uh-oh," he murmured. "Unless he's had some really bad work done this is not the same guy. Robert Hancock looks like Frankenstein's much less attractive older brother, while the guy in this picture looks…" He turned his head on one side, and grinned, "Kind of hot - in an older guy, Ricardo Montalban sort of way. Man, I had such a crush on Ricardo Montalban when I was a kid. Used to re-watch that Star Trek movie, The Wrath of Khan - the one where he's the top gone bad – over and over again. Montalban's got all these muscles and you can tell Kirk kind of has the hots for him but Spock isn't going to have any of it, and…"
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs interrupted sharply.
"Sorry, boss. Here…see what you think."
Tony handed the personnel file to Gibbs, and he wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting but it sure as hell wasn't the one he got. That muscle in Gibbs's jaw twitched violently, and he got up, stalked over to Ducky, and handed him the file with a taut, jerky flick of his wrist.
"Remind you of anyone?" he asked.
Ducky peered at the photograph for a second, frowning, and then Tony swore he turned a shade of green, and looked as if he was about to throw up.
"It can't be," he whispered. "Surely not, after all these years!"
"It adds up," Gibbs growled. "The medical experience, the fact he can fire a weapon with reasonable accuracy. Christ – even the way he left the bodies, Ducky! We said it looked like a message but we assumed it was a message for someone on Atlantis - not for us."
"Us?" Tony asked, with a raised eyebrow.
Gibbs made an impatient movement with his hand. "For Ducky…I mean, damn it, now it seems so obvious. The bodies were already practically autopsied – how clear a message could that be that it was aimed at Ducky?"
"You said 'us'," Tony said quietly. Gibbs's jaw did another violent twitch.
"The message was for Ducky – but the murders were aimed at me," Gibbs snapped. "Or, more precisely, on getting me out here – to Atlantis. He had to kill three times, but finally they called in NCIS to deal with it. And now we're out of our normal environment, sitting ducks for him to do whatever it is he's planning."
"Hang on – we don't know he's planning anything. We've been here a couple of weeks," Ducky pointed out. "He could have struck at us by now."
"He did!" Gibbs roared. "He shot Tim!"
"But why did he kill Jennifer Keller?" Ducky asked. "We were already here when she was murdered. Surely if the sole purpose of the murders was to draw us out here, then…"
"It was a welcome gift, Ducky. For you," Gibbs snapped. "And I don't think she was the person he actually intended to kill."
"Then who was?" Ducky asked.
Tony wished they’d both stop talking at each other and start explaining things to the rest of them.
"Carson Beckett," Gibbs replied. "Think about it; you'd spent a few hours with Carson the day we arrived, and you'd struck up a rapport with him. Carson is a Scottish doctor – just like you. Carson was supposed to be a warning to you, a statement of intent if you like. Now, he knew that Carson's husband was going to be in his quarters that night, so he set the fire on the Daedalus – that fulfilled two purposes – it enabled him to steal a gun, just in case, and it was supposed to get Steven out of the way, leaving Carson alone and vulnerable. He didn't count on the fact that they'd both have their radios turned off so Steven didn't hear about the fire until much later. He broke into their quarters, found Steven was still there, and knew it wasn't worth the risk going through with it so he left again."
"My god…" Ducky whispered.
Gibbs got up and began to pace furiously around the room. "Remember Carson woke up?" Gibbs grabbed a file from a pile on the table and found the notes he was looking for. "Carson woke up because he heard something – someone breaking into their quarters - and he smelled something…"
"Chloroform," Ducky murmured. "That's what he used on Jennifer Keller – it has a highly distinctive and really quite strong smell. Are you saying that he intended to use it to knock out Carson?"
"Yes - then to butcher him and leave him for you to autopsy. His plans were thwarted, but he's determined, so he went down the hallway looking for another victim."
"He stopped by Rodney Sheppard's lab…" Tony said, glancing at the file over Gibbs's shoulder. Tony wasn't sure where this was going but he could guess this bit. "Tried the door but it was locked – and Rodney alerted John. Not worth the effort killing Rodney, either, especially not with the possibility of General Sheppard on his way there – not enough time."
"So he went to the infirmary – and found Keller – not the victim he'd intended but she'd do. She had at least had contact with Ducky so he knew her and her death would mean something to you, Ducky. That was the point – it had to mean something to you – to feel personal to you. He didn't even have to move her body; he could do the autopsy right there. He must have been pretty pleased with himself for how that turned out," Gibbs said tersely.
"But why would he do something like this?" Ducky whispered. "I mean…I know he was an overbearing bully, but a murderer?"
Gibbs stared into space for a moment, thinking about it. "I'm not sure. I know what my gut is telling me but I can't be sure."
"Does this guy have a name?" Abby asked.
"And are you two going to explain what the hell is going on?" Tony demanded.
Gibbs looked as if he was about to drive his fist through the nearest wall. He glanced at Ducky, who glanced back at him. Then Ducky gave a little nod.
"It's all right, Jethro. You can tell them," he said softly.
"Randolph Jordan," Gibbs said tersely. "Our killer's name is Randolph Jordan."
"And he used to be my husband," Ducky added softly.
~*~
"So you used to be married, Ducky?" Tony asked, as they all followed Gibbs down the hallway towards the conference room, to meet with Woolsey, General Sheppard and the command team on Atlantis. "And to a murdering psycho top?"
"Well, to be fair, Anthony," Ducky replied, "He certainly wasn't a murdering psycho top when I married him."
"Psycho bit fits if you ask me though, Duck," Gibbs threw back over his shoulder. Ducky winced.
"You didn't know him when he was nineteen, Jethro!" he protested. "No…he really wasn't like that at all. Jealous perhaps, very possessive, and a little bit overbearing but a murderer? No."
He remembered sitting next to the tall, broad, incredibly handsome young top at the dissecting table for the first time during an anatomy class, and how Randolph's big hands had wielded a small scalpel. He'd laughed out loud at how incongruous that looked, and Randolph had looked up at him and fixed him to the ground with those dark, brooding eyes of his. Ducky had felt a wave of sheer, physical lust that hit his gut with a force that almost knocked him off balance.
"Are you laughing at me?" Randolph asked, in a quiet voice. Ducky shook his head.
"Good lord no! Just at your hands! They need to make the scalpels in a larger size," he said.
Randolph's brown eyes remained fixed on him, and then his face broke into a slow grin. "You're interesting," he said. "I like interesting. Randolph Jordan." He held out his hand and Ducky took it, feeling a surge of excitement.
"Donald Mallard," he said. "Although my friends call me Ducky."
"I won't," Randolph promised, in a low, intense tone. "I'll call you boy, maybe, or pet. If you're good I'll call you Donald - but I'll never call you Ducky."
And that was how it had started – lord knows, if he'd had any idea of how it would end he'd have run out of that room there and then and never gone back, medical studies be damned.
They reached the conference room to find John, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon and Richard Woolsey already there. Carson and Steven Beckett joined them a second later, and then Evan Lorne.
Gibbs filled them in as briefly as possible. Ducky sat there, wondering how it was possible for his whole world to have fallen apart in such a short space of time.
"I am so sorry," he said, when Gibbs had finished. "I feel we've brought this upon you all somehow."
"Not your fault, Ducky," Gibbs said firmly.
"Why Atlantis?" Richard asked. "Why did he bring you out here? Why not kill people back on Earth if he wanted Gibbs's attention?"
"Well, he always did have a remarkable fascination for the legends of the lost city of Atlantis, even back when I first met him," Ducky mused. "I thought it was all a bit silly to be honest, but I humoured him when he spent a fortune on books and ancient artefacts and the like. Then when his older sister died in a sudden, tragic accident, he abandoned his medical studies and took over the running of the family company."
"Jordan Tech," Gibbs said tersely.
"Oh shit," John sighed. "They're one of the few tech companies that have stargate clearance. He'd have been in regular contact with some top level scientists and some of them would definitely have been working on the stargate programme."
"Uh…it says on his personnel notes that Robert Hancock worked at Jordan Tech prior to getting the job on Atlantis," McGee noted, holding up the file.
"And Randolph had more than enough money and influence to ensure Robert Hancock quietly disappeared, while he took his place on the expedition," Ducky said with a sigh. "I rather think he was killing two birds with one stone – he got to see the lost city of Atlantis, a place he's been obsessed with all his life, and he also got to lure Jethro here, away from the relative safety of NCIS. I fear it must be his plan for him to have revenge on Jethro for taking me away from him all those years ago."
He felt Gibbs's hand come to rest on his shoulder, and his top squeezed, gently. He placed his own hand over Gibbs's, thankful for the reassurance.
"Randolph was very embarrassed when I took another top's collar and asked him for a divorce," Ducky continued. "I didn't take a penny of his money although god knows I was entitled, but I didn't want anything more to do with the man."
"He still wanted something to do with you though," Gibbs said. "He followed you, he sent you those letters…he used to wait for you to finish work and he'd try and browbeat you into going back to him. In the end I had to take out a restraining order on him. It's still in force," he added.
"I've been looking over my shoulder every day since then," Ducky murmured. "And it's made me extremely grateful for Jethro's collar which at least affords me some protection. He's never stopped trying to contact me, even after all these years, and even despite the restraining order. Jethro is all that keeps him at bay I suspect - he's a coward at heart and is afraid of Jethro. I thought he had been quiet for the past few months. I suppose I hoped he'd finally forgotten about me."
"Question is – what exactly is his revenge?" John asked. "I mean…he took a shot at McGee, but apart from that he's left you well alone since you arrived."
"I know. That *is* puzzling," Ducky mused.
"I knew he was a crap scientist," Rodney said.
"He wasn't a scientist at all, I'm afraid," Ducky said. "He didn't finish his medical degree, either, although he did learn enough during those years he was studying to be able to accurately dissect the bodies of those marines, and poor Dr Keller."
"Don't under-estimate him though," Gibbs said tersely. "He's a smart man - he's made Jordan Tech into the biggest and most sophisticated tech company in the US. He's dedicated, pays great attention to detail, and is extremely ruthless."
"So what's his next move?" Tony asked.
"Arrest, hopefully," Gibbs growled.
"I've sent his picture all around the base – he won't be able to hide for long. He'll need to come out to eat if nothing else," John said. "And I already checked his quarters – no sign of him there, although it's clear he was there until fairly recently. We did find this though." He slammed down a piece of tech the size of a pea on the table. "His subcutaneous transmitter – everyone on Atlantis is fitted with one on arrival. He must have cut it out so he couldn't be tracked."
"What about your life-signs detectors?" McGee asked. "I know they won't be able to pinpoint which life-sign is his but they could show if there's a life-sign away from the main area of the city, hiding somewhere?"
"I did a sweep already," Rodney said. "There are dozens of life-signs on their own – as you'd expect in a city this size – but none of them is anywhere I wouldn't expect them to be."
"I've sent a team of marines to track down every single lone life-sign on the grid and see who it is but that's going to take some time," John added.
"And I've sent a message to Earth asking for every detail they have on him," Rodney said. "Should have the information back in the next databurst."
"We'll find him," Woolsey said.
"I hope so," Ducky sighed. "But Jethro is right - don't under-estimate the man; I was married to him for twenty-odd years, and he's a force to be reckoned with. What Randolph Jordan wants, Randolph Jordan gets…that's why he was so upset when I left him. He's not a man who can bear to lose."
"Neither am I," Gibbs said, in a low, dangerous tone.
Ducky shook his head, smiling wryly, and that was the last thing he remembered before everything went black, and his head hit the table.
~*~
"Wake up, Rodney."
He felt a sharp slap across the face, and moaned. Something was fastened over his face and he coughed, trying to get rid of a foul taste in his mouth. He breathed, and his lungs became flooded with clean air and that woke him. He blinked, and as his vision cleared he saw a man in a hazmat suit, kneeling in front of him. The man slapped him again.
"I said, wake up. We don't have much time," the man told him. Rodney blinked again, trying to make out the man's features. Then he realised who it was and he tried to scream, but didn't get the sound out before he was slapped again, and this time the slap sent him flying sideways.
"I see you recognise me," Jordan said.
"What are you doing here?" Rodney said, pulling the mask away from his mouth a fraction so that he could talk, and then pressing it back again in order to take another gulp of clean air. He looked around the room to see that everyone else was out cold. Gibbs was on the floor, Dr Mallard sitting at the table, face down, DiNozzo sprawled out beside McGee, and John… John was lying slumped over the table, his eyes closed, unconscious.
"John!" He got up, but Jordan grabbed him and slapped him again.
"He's fine – and he'll continue to be fine for as long as you co-operate with me," he said. "If you don't – I'll kill him." He pointed at the small incendiary device strapped around John's throat.
"What have you done?" Rodney asked, aghast.
"Just ensuring your co-operation, Rodney," Jordan said, with a macabre grin. He was a big man, really tall, broad-shouldered and imposing. "I've released a drug into the Atlantis ventilation system. It's recycling so it'll keep them all unconscious until I'm done. As for that bomb strapped around your husband's throat – that's for your benefit. It's only small – it'll probably only deliver minor burns to the people sitting near him, but if I set it off it'll decapitate him – immediately."
Rodney gazed at the man, horrified. "You can't do this," he hissed.
"I already have, Rodney."
"There's a lock-down system on Atlantis - the city will have detected any airborne…" Rodney began. Jordan slapped him again.
"I over-rode the system," he said. "And you have got to learn to stop talking and start listening. God knows how your top puts up with you. I'd keep you gagged if you were mine."
"You over-rode the system?" Rodney asked, and then he flinched, waiting for the slap. It didn't come.
"Yes, Rodney. I know you had a low opinion of my work as a scientist, but I know a lot more about Atlantis than you might think. Besides, I've had three months to study all her schematics. I know how this place works." And then he slapped Rodney again, so hard he fell over. "You'll learn," Jordan said. "Subs always do eventually if you hit them hard enough."
"What do you want from me?" Rodney asked, panicked. His jaw hurt from all the slaps, and he was trying his hardest not to send his distress to his husband through the lifebond. He wasn't sure if it would reach John anyway, as his top was unconscious, but he didn't want his husband coming to and Jordan carrying out his threat to blow his head off.
Jordan grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.
"I want an accomplice," he said. "I have plans, Rodney – and you're going to help me make them happen."
"And if I don't?" Rodney thrust out his jaw obstinately. Jordan laughed and gestured with his head in John's direction.
"Then I guess your top will be losing his head," he said.
"If he dies, so do I," Rodney muttered. "We're lifebonded."
"Doesn't matter. I'll just wake up one of the other scientists if that happens," Jordan replied, with a careless shrug. "I chose you because you're the best, but one of the others will do. Nobody is coming to rescue you, Rodney. Everyone in the city is fast asleep – and nobody is going to wake up until I want them to."
He threw Rodney a hazmat suit and nodded to him to put it on. Rodney did as he was told. Maybe he'd find a way to thwart this man's plans later but for now he didn't see he had any option but to co-operate. He watched as Jordan went over to where Ducky was sitting. Jordan paused beside the doctor, then crouched down beside him and gently stroked his blond hair.
"Don't hurt him!" Rodney found himself saying and then he winced, wondering what the retribution would be for that but Jordan just shook his head.
"Donald is mine, Rodney. I'll hurt him if I want but that's not what I'm here for. Besides, he isn't really the one I want to hurt."
He got up, and went over to where Gibbs was lying on the floor. Rodney finished getting into the hazmat suit, and watched as Jordan crouched over the unconscious agent.
"He's the one I want to hurt," Jordan murmured, with a kind of twisted, gloating satisfaction.
"Are you going to kill him?" Rodney asked. Gibbs was out cold and vulnerable; Jordan could do what he liked to the man.
"Oh no." Jordan smiled icily. "I don't want to kill him. I want to hurt him, Rodney, and there are much better ways to hurt a man than by killing him. Ah…Leroy Jethro Gibbs…at last I have you at my mercy. It's been a long time coming but they do say that revenge is a dish best served cold."
He got up, and then delivered a savage kick to Gibbs's midriff. Rodney winced.
"Let's hope the pain keeps you focussed," Jordan murmured to Gibbs's prone body. "Because it's only going to get worse from here on in."
~*~
End of Part Eleven
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Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Twelve