Hiding in Plain Sight: 13/21
Oct. 24th, 2008 07:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantheficTitle: Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Thirteen
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 Thirteen: "Rodney, in case you haven't noticed Gibbs has collared a lot of subs. I'm nothing more to him than one more sub to rescue, and he never promised me anything more than that, to be fair. I'm the one who screwed up the deal by falling in love with him."
Hiding in Plain Sight
By Xanthe
Part Thirteen
Gibbs had never been through a stargate before and the effect was momentarily disorienting. One moment he was in the control room on Atlantis, then he was walking through what felt like thick, gooey water, and he couldn’t hear anything except for a buzzing in his ears, and then he seemed to be walking down a green-blue tunnel, before emerging, suddenly and unexpectedly, into a lush forest.
He took a moment to get his bearings and then saw Sheppard, Carson and the blonde marine Sheppard had brought along, waiting for him.
Sheppard checked the audio and then nodded. "Still got it," he said, and Gibbs heaved a sigh of relief as he heard Tony's voice in his ear and Rodney's muted reply. At least they were both still alive – but for how much longer? He glanced around, looking for some kind of surveillance device that would tell Jordan they were here. Sheppard was already on it, and gestured with his head to a tiny hidden camera aimed at the gate.
"Looks like Rodney's work," he said. "Doubt Jordan did much more than order him around and tell him what to do."
And slap him around, Gibbs thought to himself but it was wiser not to voice that thought. Rodney Sheppard had looked pretty beat up – as had Tony. Gibbs felt his world narrowing to a little point. He'd seen Tony beat up before, and while he was always aware of his own ice cold anger when it happened, he had never allowed himself to give in to that anger – in fact he'd barely ever acknowledged it. This was different – he felt pushed to the edge here. He was outside his normal environment, reliant on the help of strangers, using a stargate to travel from planet to planet and something he'd done a very long time ago had come back to bite him – spectacularly – on the ass.
"Well, he knows which one you've chosen," Sheppard said. "So I guess the ball's in his court now."
"Yeah – and that means we don't have much time," Gibbs replied shortly. He kept one ear on the audio feed from his headset, waiting to hear it change, to hear Jordan re-enter that room and take his revenge on Gibbs by killing Tony, but there was nothing except for the sound of Tony's occasionally ragged breathing and Rodney's chains clanking against the wall.
"This way." Sheppard read his hand-held device and began walking – fast – through the trees. Gibbs jogged along easily behind him. This was like being back in the Marines, and the memory of being part of a platoon working ops came back to him as if it was yesterday.
After about fifteen minutes they reached a clearing, and in it found the rundown Genii complex which consisted of three ramshackle old buildings.
"Problem?" Gibbs asked, as Sheppard circled around, looking at his handheld device the entire time.
"Yeah. There are three towers, sunk into the ground beneath each building…need to figure out which one to raid," John replied.
"Underground?" Gibbs queried. John made a face.
"It's a Genii thing. They just love being underground."
"Any life-signs?" Carson asked, looking at the device over John's shoulder.
"Yeah… " John twirled, his face scrunched up. "Two life-signs – right at the bottom – long way down. That tower there." He pointed at the rundown building furthest away. Gibbs started walking towards it. "But…" John began. Gibbs turned back. "Isn't it a bit obvious?" John frowned. "Three buildings, two life-signs at the bottom of one of them, just sitting there waiting to be rescued. Supposing it's the wrong building – but we don't find out until we get down there?"
"You think it's a trap?" Carson asked.
"He knows it's a trap," Gibbs snapped. "What he's worried about is whether it's also a bluff. No life-signs anywhere else?" Gibbs asked, looking around.
"Nope…but this building…" John pointed to the one closest to them. "It's got more radiation than the rest – I can't get anything reliable off it."
"Bastard knew that – that's why he brought them here," Gibbs growled. "He wasn't going to make it easy for us."
"I say we go for the one with the life-signs," Carson said. John and Gibbs gazed at each other. "It's at least *something* to go on!" Carson said. Gibbs sighed, and rubbed his jaw.
"It's your call, General," he said. "You're mission leader."
"Okay then." John walked towards the building with the life-signs. "Maybe I'm over-complicating things, and Carson's right – at least it's something."
Sheppard pulled the ramshackle door off at the hinges. On the outside, the building looked like a rundown agricultural barn, but inside it was overgrown with weeds.
"Looks like someone's been here recently." Gibbs pointed at the disturbed vegetation around a large trap door.
"Yeah. Could still be a bluff though," John said. He reached the trap door and waved the blonde marine over. "Cadman – this one booby trapped?" he asked. She knelt down beside it, reaching for a bag of equipment.
"Major Cadman is an explosives expert," Carson told Gibbs. "The best I've met. She's also one of the mouthiest and most annoying subs I've ever met," he added with a grin. "Hard as nails and bossy as hell – I thought she was a top for almost a year after we arrived until she tried to seduce me one time – well it was kind of her. I mean it *was* her but she was in someone else's body at the time – uh, long story."
Gibbs grunted. He'd known the blonde marine was a sub the minute he'd been introduced to her but he knew not everyone had his knack for instinctively picking up orientation on sight. Then the last part of Carson’s sentence penetrated his brain and he turned, frowning.
“She was in someone else’s body?” he queried. Carson made a face at him and pointed at John.
"We don’t talk about it," he signed with his hands.
John turned. “Are you talking about that thing we don’t talk about?” he asked.
Carson grimaced. “No. Definitely not,” he said firmly.
“Glad to hear it.” John turned back to Cadman.
“It was Rodney,” Carson whispered to Gibbs. “She was in Rodney’s body and she kissed me. John didn’t, uh, react very well…”
Gibbs had no doubt that was a massive understatement. He wondered how the hell he’d ended up here, in a galaxy so far from home, with people who routinely battled vampire-like aliens and swapped bodies, for god’s sake. And now his subs were scattered over three planets, each of them in three different kinds of deadly peril - you couldn’t make it up. It was all so insane that he’d have laughed his head off if it wasn’t all so close to home.
How were the others doing, he wondered? How were his other subs, and the people he’d sent to rescue them? Would they make it back alive? He remembered the words of the Athosian prophetess, Mara. Was she right? Would he lose them all – all except one? And if so – who would survive? Ducky was the only one of his subs who was safe on Atlantis right now – maybe he'd lose all the others. His gut clenched at the thought – he had already told Ducky he didn't intend to go back if Tony died and he meant it. There was no way he'd be leaving at all if he lost four of his subs, prophecy be damned.
He jerked slightly as he heard voices in his ear - Rodney and Tony were talking. It was good to hear Tony's voice again. He could tell by the expression in Sheppard's eyes that he was listening too - and they glanced at each other for a moment, sharing the same sense of relief at hearing their subs speak.
Cadman found some wires, traced them back to some C4 explosive, and effortlessly disarmed the small bomb attached to the trapdoor.
"Well Jordan said there were booby traps," Sheppard murmured. "Question is – would he bother trapping the building they're not in as a bluff?"
"Question also is – how many are there?" Gibbs asked. "Looking at these schematics you dug out of your database there are seventeen levels to this place, all of them accessible only by one door at the end of each staircase. If he's booby-trapped all seventeen of them then it'll take us longer than six hours to get there."
"We'll get there. Cadman does her best work under pressure, don't you, Major?" Sheppard told her with a grim smile. "She'll be faster next time."
She'd been pretty fast this time, Gibbs thought, but Sheppard clearly knew his people and she looked like she relished the challenge.
"Yes, sir!" she said sharply.
Sheppard pulled open the trap door and they went down a narrow metal staircase and then walked along a featureless dark corridor.
They reached the door at the end and Cadman set to work again.
Gibbs leaned back against the wall, caressing the butt of his P-90. It wasn't a familiar gun for him, but he liked the way it felt in his hands. There was another bomb attached to the next door; Cadman located it quickly and efficiently but he could see the sweat beading her brow as she worked, hands moving fast over the wiring.
"Don't worry," Sheppard told him in an undertone. "We'll get there in time. Your boy won't bleed out on my watch."
Gibbs took a sharp intake of breath. He'd been deliberately not thinking about Tony, lying on that steel bed with the blood draining out of his veins, because he needed to stay focussed. They all watched as Cadman worked. Gibbs listened to Tony and Rodney talk in his earpiece, glad of the sound of Tony's voice, reassuring him that his sub was still alive. He hated it when there was a silence and wished he could order Tony to keep talking, but he didn't know Gibbs was listening so there was little Gibbs could do except ride out the silences.
"Still think Gibbs will be coming for you?" Rodney's voice.
"Nope." Tony.
"Who will he rescue then?"
"Abby. She's his favourite – always has been, always will be. Besides…he's been kind of pissed at me lately. And even when he's not pissed at me I really wind him up. So definitely not me."
John gazed at Gibbs dispassionately. Gibbs gazed back at him just as blank-faced but he felt as if he'd been on the receiving end of one of Jordan's backhanders by the tone of utter certainty in Tony's voice. Was Tony right, he thought to himself? Would he have chosen Abby? If he'd had a real choice, is that what he'd have done? If it was down to his feelings alone, would it have been Abby? He felt the most protective towards her – she was the only one of the three of them who wasn't a trained field agent, and besides…she was like a daughter to him. She was a lot older than Kelly would have been, if she hadn’t been killed, but there was something about her that brought out all his paternal instincts. He loved her - but then he loved all his subs.
He thought of Tim, who was so smart it was scary, and so totally not smart when it came to tops; who lived out his entire life in fear that someone would guess that he'd never yet gone to a top's bed. It wasn't such a dark secret, Gibbs thought wryly, when he remembered the many dark secrets he'd kept over the years. He hadn't told any of his agents about his first wife, his daughter, or how they'd died. Ducky knew, obviously, and Ziva knew, but only because she'd done a dossier on him before she joined NCIS. Nobody else knew. Just like nobody knew he'd tracked down the man who'd killed them and emptied his gun into him. Yet poor Tim tortured himself about his much more innocent secret all the same. He had always had a soft spot for the probie; would he have gone for Tim?
Then there was Tony. Tony who never let anyone get really close, who used misdirection like his own secret superpower. Tony who had told him dozens of stories about the same events in his life, all of them with a slightly different emphasis, so it wasn't easy figuring out what was true and what was just Tony's sleight of hand. Tony who he knew he loved, who he'd loved for years without doing a damn thing about it. And Tony who, right now, was absolutely certain that Gibbs didn't love him at all. Gibbs thumped his head back against the wall. This hurt. This hurt as much as Jordan must have hoped it would hurt.
"Why was he pissed at you?"
"You were there! You know…that whole nearly arresting you fiasco."
"Oh. That. You were such a jerk to me, DiNozzo."
"Yeah, well…it's kind of my thing, you know. Being a jerk. People expect it of me. If it's any consolation I haven't been able to sit down easily ever since."
"How's it coming along, Cadman?" Sheppard asked. It felt claustrophobic in that small corridor, the three men lined along the side, Cadman working away at the door. Gibbs clamped down hard on his raging impatience; this one was taking a lot longer than the first.
"Nearly there, sir – this one's a doozy," she replied. Gibbs fought, with all his self-control, to stay focussed. They were just standing here while down below them, a very long way down, Tony was bleeding to death.
"Gibbs punished you for it?"
"Hell yeah. Big time. Although to be fair I deserved it. How about you and John? Did he take you down for that lie you told?"
"Yeah. Well, kind of."
"Bad?"
"Yes. Well…no…bad but kind of a good bad."
Gibbs watched as John gave a wry grin at that. He wondered, idly, what he'd have done if it had been Tony telling the lie, and he who had to punish it. He was sure he could be suitably creative but finding the right way to handle a sub wasn't always easy. Was that the kind of lie Tony would tell, he wondered? A lie to protect his top? He didn't think so – he knew that what Gibbs hated more than anything else was his subs lying to him. Then he remembered what Jordan had said about Tony's first instinct being to protect him when they'd been shot at. Maybe Tony *would* lie to him…maybe Tony *had* been lying to him, for a very long time, about something very important.
"Ah, that's the *best* kind of bad, Rodney. I LIKE that kind of bad!"
John gave a little snort of amusement. "Your boy is funny, Gibbs. I'll give him that," he murmured.
"Yeah. DiNozzo is a regular comedian," Gibbs commented dryly.
"It felt personal. The way you treated me that day."
"Yeah, well, Rodney…maybe it was. Maybe it was."
Gibbs tightened his hands around his gun. Jordan had to know they were here – so what was his plan? Why was he waiting? Why didn't he just go straight in there and do whatever it was he intended to do to Tony? He had a feeling he was being played, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.
"Why? What did I ever do to you?"
"Nothing. Just…watching you with John…I guess I was kind of jealous."
Gibbs frowned.
"He loves you, Rodney. No, he's *crazy* about you. All that lifebonding, sharing a plate stuff. You've latiqued your entwined initials on your arms! Then there's the matching pendants, and that handmade wedding collar he crafted for you and the way he looks at you..."
"Oh."
"Figured it out now?"
"But Gibbs loves you, right? I mean, he collared you?"
"Rodney, in case you haven't noticed Gibbs has collared a lot of subs. I'm nothing more to him than one more sub to rescue, and he never promised me anything more than that, to be fair. I'm the one who screwed up the deal by falling in love with him."
Gibbs lowered his head and stared at the floor, unblinking. There, now it had been said, and he couldn't keep pretending he didn't know the truth of it any more.
"You told him any of this?"
"No, Rodney – like I said, I knew the deal when he collared me. He's not in love with me, and he's never gonna be in love me and that's fine. It's my problem – not his."
"Wow," John said, raising a wry eyebrow at Gibbs. "When that boy of yours gets something wrong, he really gets it wrong, doesn't he?"
"All part of the DiNozzo charm," Gibbs sighed, shaking his head. "How did you know?" he asked, because he thought this was one particular secret he'd hidden pretty well.
Sheppard's handsome face broke into a grin. "'Cause he's trouble," he said. "And you're like me – you *like* trouble."
Gibbs gave an amused grunt. "Rodney's a handful, huh?"
"Yeah – and that's what makes him so much fun," Sheppard said, with a wink. "Just like DiNozzo. Besides – you're here, aren't you? You telling me you'd have let anyone else – and I mean *anyone* else come rescue him? I don't care what you said about it not being a choice – it was. Lorne and David made it easy for you, but it was still a choice, Gibbs. You made it, even though you didn't know you were making it. He's the one you're in love with – and I don't even think that's a surprise to you, is it?"
"Hell no." Gibbs shook his head. Sheppard gave him a strange look.
"So, question is – why's it gonna be such a surprise to him?" he asked.
~*~
Ziva made her way down to the jumper bay with Ronon and Teyla walking beside her, and a handful of Sheppard's marines at their heels. She might not have known Teyla and Ronon for very long but she trusted them, implicitly. They felt like good companions to have in such a battle – both of them warriors, like herself.
She tried not to think about Tim. Gibbs had told her to stay focussed and if she thought about him she felt the darkness inside threatening to rise up and overwhelm her. She'd gone slowly with him these past few days, as Gibbs had advised, gentling him, taking care of him, making no claims on him. She knew now that she wanted to take him as her sub one day but only when he was ready, and that might take some time.
It made a change not to bed a sub and take what she wanted from them, hard and savage, without getting to know them first. She found that she liked the gentle pace, the slow build-up, and the sense of pride she felt that he was learning to trust her. She would take him places he had only dreamed of, she promised herself. She would show him how good it could be to surrender his body, heart and soul to the will of a top who loved him. She would coax and tease the best from him, until he was eating out of her hand. It would be so much more satisfying than all those nights of angry, empty sex. But first…first she had to bring him home safely.
They reached the bay and the marine Sheppard had assigned to pilot them went to the controls. Ziva followed him.
"Wait!" a voice called out, and she turned to see a young woman running up behind them, armed to the teeth.
"Kahla?" she frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the city awaiting combat training with Teyla and got knocked out with the gas, same as everyone else," Kahla said. "Someone told me what was happening and I…" She stopped, looking a little nervous, and then glanced at Teyla, who nodded to her that she should continue. "I wanted to help," she said firmly. "I am a good fighter, Ziva, and you need all the good fighters you can get."
"I have good fighters and you owe me nothing," Ziva told her, turning. Kahla placed a hand on her arm.
"Then I would like to help as a friend," she said softly. Ziva turned back to see something in Kahla's eyes that hadn't been there before. She glanced at Teyla, who smiled.
"Kahla and I have had many talks these past few days," she said. "Kahla has chosen who she wishes to be, Ziva – as have you I believe," she murmured.
"We are going to rescue someone I love," Ziva told Kahla. "His name is Tim McGee, and, if - *when* - I bring him home, if he is willing, I will collar him. Do you still wish to come with us, Kahla?"
Kahla gazed at her from fierce, proud eyes. "It would be my honour," she said, bowing her head in that Athosian way. "Will you accept my help, Ziva?"
Ziva felt surprised that anyone would risk their life to help her. She had only known these people a couple of weeks but they had chosen to come with her and help her fight for her submissive. She liked their company, the simplicity of their friendship, and the knowledge that they were warriors in their souls, just like her, and had done battle with their own demons to be at ease with who they were – just as she had.
"I will, Kahla," she said, touched. "And – thank you."
~*~
Lieutenant-Colonel Lorne sighed as the puddle jumper died a second time. It took all his skill to keep it from crash-landing in the marshlands – instead he did a neat nose dive and managed to bring it down relatively safely on dry land. Then he turned and glared at Dr Conway who was busy frantically trying to get the jumper started again.
"What's the problem?" Lorne snapped at his scientist. Conway shook his head.
"It's the solar radiation, Colonel," he said. "It's created a kind of ionic cloaking field around the planet – keeps jamming the jumper controls."
"Jason - Abby is sitting on an island 23 miles in that direction." Lorne waved his arm due south. "And there's no way Jordan carried her there so he and Rodney had to have used the jumper Jordan stole. How come *they* managed to get their jumper working out here?"
Conway gave a resigned sigh, and looked up from his work. "Much as I hate to say it, Colonel, I'm not Rodney Sheppard. He might be the most difficult, temperamental and downright obnoxious boss I've ever worked for, but he is right when he tells people he's a genius. He can do things on the fly that the rest of us have to sit down and work on. Now, I can get the jumper flying again but I need some time to figure out how."
"Okay." Lorne nodded – Conway hated Rodney so if he was paying him compliments then it had to be bad. "How long do you think it will take?"
"Several hours." Conway bit on his lip. Too long, Lorne thought. The sun would come up in four, and soon after that Abby would be fried out there, with no protection.
"Then here's what we'll do," Lorne said, getting up and grabbing two hazmat suits from the back of the jumper and stuffing them into his backpack. "I'm going to go out there and run to Abby's position. You stay here and figure out how to get this thing flying again. When you've figured it out, fly it over to where we are and rescue us. Hazmat suits will keep us safe until you get there. Stay in radio contact at all times. Lieutenant Rice you're with me. Sergeant Hansen – you stay with Conway. Okay, let's get moving."
Lorne didn't wait to hear Conway's protests – and he was sure there were plenty. He just ran out of the back of the jumper and started jogging across the wet ground. A few seconds later he heard Rice catch up with him.
"You do know we have to jog 23 miles and then swim for two carrying hazmat suits to reach her, don't you?" Rice asked him. Lorne glanced sideways at him.
"No, *I* have to jog 23 miles and swim for two with the hazmat suits," Lorne told him. "You're going to run with me and then cover me while I swim. Those dinosaur birds patrol the open water like tops at an orgy, and I remember from last time I was here how they like to dive-bomb anything that's moving. Your job is to shoot them down when they go for me while I'm in the water."
"Right," Rice said. “Sir…I like Abby…and I really hope she’s going to be okay but even if we could see where we’re going, and even if those dino-bird things weren’t out there, this is one hell of a task.”
"I can do it, Jamie," Lorne said firmly. “And if I can, so can you. You’re not long out of basic training and your legs are fifteen years younger than mine. Now – let’s get moving.”
"Yes, sir!" Rice said, shooting him a grin.
Lorne was a serial monogamist – he'd had many subs in his life, but none of them for longer than a few months. He'd never met anyone he wanted to collar and couldn't imagine sharing a plate with anyone, but Abby was different. Abby was special. He loved everything about her from her big heart to her big green eyes. She was fun to be around, in and out of the bedroom. He also loved that she enjoyed being tied as much as he enjoyed tying her. He loved the pretty patterns his rope made on her body, and the way she'd wriggled and sighed when he had her captive and tied beneath him. He'd never had a sub who responded as perfectly as Abby – she'd looked so beautiful naked, her skin criss-crossed with his rope.
The only possible obstacle to their relationship, as far as Lorne could see, was Gibbs. He thought the other top trusted him to take care of Abby but he needed to prove to the man that he was worthy of her – and if he had to risk his life running and swimming half way across this planet then he would. No question.
~*~
Rodney tried to shift himself into a more comfortable sitting position but it wasn't easy when he was chained to the wall by his neck and arms. His head hurt from where he'd been thwacked every few minutes by Jordan, and he was exhausted from being on the go for so long with no rest while he'd helped Jordan set up his revenge. Rodney wasn't sure he'd done the right thing helping Jordan; not that he thought he'd had any choice, but, even so, he was horrified by the results of his actions.
He glanced over at Tony, lying on the steel bed. That tube in his arm had turned red three times now, and he could see the colour draining visibly from the agent's face. This served to make the bruises on his jaw stand out even more against his now deathly white skin. They'd been silent for awhile, and Rodney had a sudden, horrible thought that he might end up sharing this room with a corpse.
"Should I keep you talking?" he blurted. Tony moved his head, slowly, and gazed at him, a question in his eyes. "Uh, I know with a head injury you're supposed to keep the person talking – aren't you? Is this the same? I just…I don't want you falling unconscious."
"Worried I'm going to croak on you, probie?" Tony asked, with a grin. "Don't worry – I wouldn't do that to you."
"Probie?" Rodney frowned.
"That what I said?" Tony laughed. "Must be thinking of someone else. Do you know where he took them? Tim and Abby? Are they going to be okay?"
"Honestly?" Rodney shook his head. "I really don't know if they're going to be okay. And yes I do know where he took them."
"He made you help him?" Tony asked. Rodney shifted again, hating himself.
"Yeah. You blame me?" he asked softly.
"You said earlier that he had a bomb tied around John's throat?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "No, Rodney. I don't blame you. If it had been Gibbs I'd have done the exact same thing. Not that the cold-hearted bastard would have deserved it."
"You really think he's that? Cold-hearted?" Rodney asked.
He watched Tony sigh, and stare at the ceiling for a long time.
"I don't know," he said at last. "Sometimes I do…other times, he looks at me and I see *something* there, but then it's gone and I think that maybe I imagined it."
"You don't like tops much, do you?" Rodney murmured.
"Never met one I couldn't outplay," Tony replied with a grin. "Well, except Gibbs. And I never stayed with one long enough to let them screw with my head. Commitment issues, probie."
"Rodney."
"Whatever."
"I never believed in relationships, collaring, sharing a plate - all that stuff, until I met John," Rodney confided. "My parents were switches – insane switches. It was like living in a war zone growing up, or a real-life chess game with me and my sister as pawns."
"Oh yeah. I know that feeling," Tony chuckled, and then his head flopped back and he took a deep breath. "Is it me or is the room underwater now?" he asked.
"It's you," Rodney said quietly.
"Hey – your parents drink?" Tony asked.
"My dad did. My mum became teetotal as a reaction against him. They were both switches so they defined themselves in any other way they could in opposition to each other."
"My father was an alcoholic," Tony told him. "You sure the room isn't underwater?"
"Really sure."
"Okay, probie. Take your word for it. Where was I? Oh yeah – parents. Mine used to drink like other people breathe. That was before mom died. Afterwards me and dad stayed in a succession of swanky hotel suites so dad could drink himself stupid without having to clear up after. He used to go out and pick up these subs, bring them back to our suite, tie them up in his bedroom, fuck them senseless, and then pass out. I could pretty much hear everything – he was too drunk to be quiet and they didn’t even know I was sleeping in the room next door."
"Sounds crappy," Rodney commented.
"Ah, good times, probie, good times. ‘Course I’d have to go in there in the mornings and untie them or they’d have been there until lunchtime before he woke up. I used to give them this little lecture on safe sex – I mean, what the hell kind of a dumb sub goes to a hotel room with a tanked up top and lets him tie them up? Idiots.”
“So who looked after you if he was drunk all the time?” Rodney asked.
“Maids, bellboys – met some really cool concierges. They always know the best places to hang out. Then, when I hit puberty, I decided there was no way he should have all the fun so I started sneaking out at night wearing tight pants to get myself laid. Tops are so easy. Dad caught me a few times…didn't like it when I wouldn't stop – probably only doing it to get his attention anyway. That backfired – he ended up sending me away to boarding school."
"Shit – Tony, that sounds horrible."
"Best days of my life," Tony sighed. "Loved boarding school. Of course they tried to separate the doms and subs but we were young and not everyone was sure of their orientation, and those that were unsure…well, I was happy to help 'em find out! Once I'd gone through all the 'undecideds' in my dormitory I used to climb out at night, shin down the drainpipe, and break into the dom dormitory in the next building for some fun. Got found out eventually, of course."
"What happened?" Rodney hadn't thought he'd ever meet anyone with as fucked up a childhood as he'd had, but Tony's was coming pretty close.
"House-mistress disciplined me every night for a week," Tony said, with a happy sigh. "But by the end of that week the DiNozzo charm had worked on her and I spent the rest of the term tied up in her bed at nights."
"And you were underage?" Rodney asked, horrified.
"Yeah. Wasn't her fault though – I seduced her. She didn't stand a chance."
"I'm not surprised you have a low opinion of tops," Rodney commented. "They've kind of being letting you down your entire life."
"Oh, I never let them get close enough to let me down, probie," Tony told him. "Just use 'em and move on."
"Until Gibbs," Rodney said quietly. Tony went very still, and then gave a big sigh.
"Yeah. Until Gibbs. He won't let me use him and he sure as hell won't use me." He laughed at the double entendre. "He's right not to want me, Rodney," he said softly. "I'm bad news."
"I think if anyone can handle you Gibbs can," Rodney said. He wondered if it was a good or bad sign that Tony seemed to have remembered his name again.
"Yeah. Well, we'll never know will we, Rodney?" Tony replied. "Time's running out."
“Why do you stay with him?” Rodney asked. “Why not move on, find a top who wants you as much as you want them?”
Tony was silent for a moment, and Rodney hoped he was still conscious. Then he moved his head. “Never thought I’d let anyone collar me,” he said. “But when Gibbs asked…well, it was five years ago now and…” He trailed off and then sighed. “How did you feel when John collared you, Rodney?”
Rodney thought of a meal on a beach, with the sun setting around them, and the sheer *rightness* of accepting John’s collar around his neck.
“It meant everything,” he murmured.
“Same here,” Tony said. “He told me that sleeping together wasn’t part of the deal but the minute he buckled that collar around my neck I found I was old-fashioned. If I was going to wear his collar then I wasn’t going to sleep with any other top.”
“You’ve been celibate for five years?” Rodney asked, disbelieving. “You?”
Tony chuckled softly. “People just see what they want to see, probie,” he said softly.
“It’s an act?”
“Not all the time.” Tony’s voice faded, and then strengthened. “Collar meant something y'see…and I wanted to prove to myself that I was worthy of someone like him. It was kind of a test for myself and you know, I think I did pretty well.” He glanced at the tube in his arm as it filled again with his own blood. "Feeling kinda tired," he murmured. "Too tired to swim any more. You lied, Rodney; this room is underwater."
Rodney pulled against the chains binding him, even knowing he was tied fast. If he could just get free he could go over there, and stop this. Tony's head rolled sideways and he closed his eyes.
"Tony!" Rodney pulled on his chains frantically. "DiNozzo! Wake up!"
But this time there was no reply.
~*~
Tim wasn't sure where he was. One minute he'd been in a meeting on Atlantis and the next he'd woken up on a slab of rock, with people gazing at him. Scary people with skulls attached to their belts and teeth hanging in necklaces around their throats. His brain couldn't even begin to make sense of it. He passed out, and when he awoke again he was aware of his arm throbbing and, looking down, he saw that his gunshot wound had re-opened. Blood had soaked through his bandage and was now dripping down his arm.
"Hello?" he called out. The scary villagers ignored him. "Am I dead?" Tim asked, with a frown. "Only, if I'm alive this is a really freaky thing to have happened."
One of the villagers glanced up, laughed at him, and then drew her hand across her throat and laughed again.
"Okay. There's no planet in the universe where that can possibly be good," Tim muttered. He wondered where his team were and if there was any possibility of a rescue. He thought Gibbs would probably be kind of pissed – and Ziva…he grimaced. Ziva was likely to go ballistic and he'd seen her go ballistic before and it wasn't pretty. He didn't like that dark, intense look she got in her eyes and hoped she'd never direct it at him.
"Sunset," one of the villagers said, pointing up at the sky. Tim could see the sun was sinking inexorably towards the horizon.
"What happens at sunset?" he asked, and she turned and pointed at an open fire a few feet away. Several dozen crudely made knives were resting beside it. She smiled at him, and he got full view of her rotting teeth and smelled her foul breath.
"Sunset," she said again, with another cackle. "That is when we will make our sacrifice to appease the Wraith."
"Uh…sacrifice?" Tim asked, nervously.
She smiled at him, her eyes glowing in the firelight. "You," she told him.
Tim banged his head back on the stone slab he was tied to. "Oh shit," he muttered.
~*~
Running 23 miles across open land – some of it dangerously marshy – reminded Lorne of his time in basic training. This time though, the incentive to cover the distance was much greater, and he pushed himself to the limit. Rice struggled to keep up with him, and Lorne knew they were both risking sprained ankles or worse running this fast over this kind of terrain but he didn't have a choice. They didn't have long before the sun rose, and anyone caught in the open without the protection of a hazmat suit would die within minutes.
One of the planet's moons had already set and the other four were slowly sinking towards the horizon. Every now and again Lorne heard Abby talking to herself, and sometimes she sang, which made a little smile curve at the corners of his lips. Hearing her on his radio helped keep him focussed and the adrenaline pumping.
He was tired, but he didn't have time to rest when he reached the water's edge. He quickly dumped his pack on the ground, grabbed his canteen and took several large gulps of water, and then emptied his pack of everything except the hazmat suits, the canteen of water and his knife. He took off all his clothes except his boxers, wrapped his gun in one of the hazmat suits to keep it dry, and then fastened his pack over his shoulders again. It wouldn't be easy swimming with it on his back but he didn't have a choice; without the hazmat suits they'd die as soon as the rays from the sun hit their skin.
Rice came running up, panting heavily, and bent over, putting his hands on his knees. He retched a couple of times, looking completely exhausted. Lorne tapped his radio.
"Conway – I'm going into the water now. Any news on the jumper before I risk my life taking on those dinosaur birds?" he asked. If the jumper was fixed he didn't need to make the swim – they could fly to Abby within minutes.
"Sorry, Colonel – I'm close but I'm not there yet," Conway replied. "Half the crystals were fried when we went down the second time. I'm replacing them with fresh ones and I've recalibrated to…"
"I don't need to know," Lorne told him briskly. "Just get it done and come rescue us. I'm going into the water now so all radio contact from now on should be with Rice."
"Yes, Colonel. And Evan? Good luck," Conway said. Lorne grinned. He and his team worked well together, and he had a sneaking affection for his scientist. Okay, so he might not be a Rodney Sheppard but he was a good man, even if Lorne did have a sneaking suspicion that he might be non-dynamic. The way Lorne saw it that was Jason Conway's business and nobody else's, and Lorne had already taken down one marine on Atlantis when he'd overheard the man making snide comments about Conway's sexual orientation.
Lorne threw his radio on the pile with his pack, and then took a deep breath and looked into the depths of the inky black water. It was a long swim over to the island where Abby was being held captive – about two miles, which, after having just run 23, was one hell of a distance. Rice made a face.
"You sure you want to do this, sir?" he asked. "We could just wait for Conway to fix the jumper and…"
"And supposing he doesn't get it done until after sun-up, Rice?" Lorne said. "You think I could sit here on the shore safely wrapped up in my hazmat suit and listen to her screams as the sun fries her? Have you ever seen someone die of this kind of solar radiation? It literally burns the flesh off the body, leaving a pile of jellied remains behind. It takes about five minutes to die – five minutes of total agony."
Rice swallowed hard. "It's just…that's a long swim and those flying reptiles are vicious, sir," he murmured. "And, uh, we…I don't want to lose you."
Lorne felt a little pang at that. Rice was a sub, and one he'd played with a few times back when they'd first arrived on Atlantis. They hadn't really been compatible – Rice's aversion to being tied hadn't exactly helped – and their relationship, such as it was, had soon burnt itself out, but it had left a residue of affection behind. The young marine had a knack of always looking untidy and appearing clumsy but he was a good kid – his big brown eyes were kind of endearing, and Lorne had enjoyed running his hands through his messy dark hair.
"Rice – Jamie – you're just a kid so I wouldn't expect you to understand, but I have to do this," Lorne told him, placing his hands on Rice's shoulders. Rice bit his lip, looked at the ground, and then looked up at him and nodded.
"You're in love with her, aren't you, sir?" Rice asked. Lorne grinned.
"Yeah, I am – and you know how crazy tops are when they're in love, Lieutenant! Now – you're a good shot and you need to be if you're going to keep those reptiles from killing me in the water. I need you to cover my back for me while I swim, Jamie."
"I won't be able to cover you all the way to the other side, sir."
"I know." Lorne nodded, strapping his thigh holster around his half-naked body and then sliding his knife into the holster. "I'll have to take care of it myself when I get that far out. Now, you need to remember to put on your hazmat suit the minute the moons set – okay? Right when this world is at its darkest because sunrise happens quickly here and once it does it's too late. Understood?"
Rice nodded. Lorne patted his arm and then drew away, and, without hesitating, threw himself head first into the dark water.
It was icy cold, and the first shock of it took his breath away. He took a moment to steady himself – he had a long swim ahead of him. He was a strong swimmer and made good progress for the first half mile or so, fuelled by his own adrenaline and something else, something old in his blood that made him need to rescue and protect the sub he was in love with. There was something, maybe in their most basic genetic coding though nobody had actually found the gene for it yet, that made most dominants protective of their submissives. That was why he, Sheppard, Gibbs, Carson and most other dominants Lorne knew hated it when they met an abusive top. He thought of Sergeant Bates, who had once tormented Rodney so unpleasantly, and how something about the sergeant had always felt 'off' to him. He'd subsequently found out just *why* Bates made him feel that way, and between them he and Sheppard had managed to pull the sergeant around - but that hadn't been without its challenges.
He was startled out of this train of thought by a shot ringing out and then something large, with a grey, leathery skin, splashed into the water beside him, causing him to sink momentarily. He came up, gasping for air, and pushed the corpse of the flying reptile out of the way. It was like a massive iguana with wings and it had a sharp beak in which resided equally sharp teeth. Lorne waved his arm back at the shore, where he could dimly see Rice standing with his gun. It was getting quite dark now as all the moons gradually disappeared; this made visibility poor, and also reminded him of how little time they had before the sun rose.
He tried to swim faster but his exhaustion, combined with the coldness of the water and the weight of his pack, were taking their toll. He could see land ahead but it was still a long way off. He hoped Abby was okay; the reptiles usually only attacked over open water and she was tied a little way inland. If she'd been on the shoreline he'd have been more worried as a stray reptile might have taken its chances with her there.
He wished she knew he was coming for her. Then it occurred to him that she was expecting Gibbs and he felt his breath tighten in his chest at that. He hoped she wouldn't make her disappointment too obvious.
Something loomed overhead, then fluttered and swooped at him, and he felt something sharp tearing into his shoulder.
"Fuck!" he screamed, beating off the reptile with his bare hands. The creature paused, and then came back at him again. Lorne heard gunfire from the shore but he was out of range now – he was on his own with this one. He went underwater to escape the reptile's next attack, and when he rose up he had his knife in his hand. The creature bombed towards him, beak open, sharp teeth gleaming.
Lorne struck its flank hard with his knife as it came in for the kill. The creature screamed loudly, and then dropped into the water like a lead weight, still screaming. It flapped around in the water and Lorne got caught in the undertow. He went under once, dragged down by the weight of his pack, surfaced, gasping for air, and then went under again. The creature was still screaming and writhing, thrashing about in the water making it hard for Lorne to keep above the surface. Lorne reached for it, got hold of the leathery wings and rammed his knife into its body again, hard. It didn't scream this time – it just went limp. Lorne thrust his bloodied knife back into his holster and swam on, as fast as his weary body would allow, not looking back.
Three reptiles circled overhead, calling to each other. He could see they were uncertain about striking after what had happened to the other two, but every so often one of them came close, and he was forced to stop and yell at them in the hope of keeping them at bay. He couldn't afford another confrontation; his shoulder was aching from where it had been ripped by the creature's beak – he couldn't tell what the damage was but it sure as hell hurt. He wasn't sure how much blood he'd lost in the water but he felt so tired now that it was all he could do to keep swimming. His arms and legs felt like lead, and each stroke was an effort.
Now the island was closer – tantalisingly close – but the moons had set, and he could see a faint glimmer of light on the horizon. He didn't have long…if he didn't get there soon then he and Abby would both die a particularly painful kind of death. He wondered how the others were getting on with their rescues – Ziva, Gibbs and Sheppard. There had been some radio traffic before he'd got into the water but mostly it had been sporadic and uninformative – everyone was too focussed on what they were doing.
He felt something under his feet and gave a startled yelp, before realising it was land. A glance at the sky told him he might just be in time if he ran. He half-swam, half-crawled his way out of the water. Long swim over, he wanted to stop and rest; his legs felt like they were made of solid concrete and he didn't think he could run anywhere. His chest quickly became streaked with blood from his shoulder wound now there was no water to wash it away. He ignored it, forcing himself up the beach towards where their readings told him Abby was chained. He hadn't brought his life-signs detector with him – he wasn't sure it would withstand the long swim – but he'd memorised the details of where she was. He paused only to open his pack and retrieve his gun from where it was wrapped inside one of the suits.
His legs gave way as something dive-bombed him, and he only managed to raise his gun at the last moment, and fire off a round into the reptile that had taken its chances with him before he got too far inland for it to feel confident about success. The creature screamed defiance at him, and rose up into the air once more, lurching, one wing hanging loose. Lorne battled on, through bush and scrub. He had to be close…he had to be…
He saw the trail, flattened by the jumper Jordan had used to bring her here, and now his legs were responding more quickly to the commands from his tired brain.
Then he saw her. She was wearing black combat pants and a black tee shirt with a skeleton motif on the front. Her arms and legs were tightly chained together and the chain had then been wrapped around the tree behind her, binding her tight. She looked up as she heard him crashing into the clearing.
"Gibbs!" she said, and even tired as he was he braced himself for seeing the light in her eyes fade when she realised it was him who had rescued her and not the top whose collar she wore, and who she worshipped.
"Sorry, Abs," he gasped, reaching her side, and pulling out his gun. "It's me." He unfastened the small bomb from her collar and threw it into the bushes. "Now cover your head," he ordered.
"Evan?" she said, surprise and disbelief evident in her tone. She obeyed him all the same, pulling her body forward as far as the chains would allow and putting her arms over her head, chains clanking as she did so.
He fired at the chains, over and over again until he had freed her, and then he pulled off the pack strapped to his back.
"No time to explain," he panted. "Just get this on – quickly!" He threw her the hazmat suit, and got his own out.
"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, coming over to examine his wounded, bloody shoulder.
"Get the suit on! Now!" he yelled, seeing the first rays of the sun start to hit the ground just yards from them, and coming closer with every second as the sun rose in the sky.
Her eyes widened but she did as she was told without question. Lorne was grateful she'd belonged to a top like Gibbs these past few years and was therefore trained to obey urgent orders without arguing. He pulled on his own suit with just seconds to spare as the sun finally hit their position. Then he just fell to the ground, completely and utterly exhausted.
He'd done it. She was safe. He'd saved her. She was his…or at least she would be if he could persuade her over-protective top that he was worthy of her - and if she wanted him. Did she want him? Or had she just been playing? Maybe he'd taken it a lot more seriously than she'd ever meant it. And maybe there had never been a chance for him – maybe her heart would always belong to Leroy Jethro Gibbs and never to him.
"Evan? Are you okay?" Abby crawled towards him and lay down beside him. She raised her hands and took hold of his helmeted head, gazing through the clear visor at him.
"Sorry I'm not Gibbs," he told her wearily.
"You came for me? You came to rescue me? You risked your life for me?" she said, sounding astonished. "Is it possible to kiss someone through these visors?"
"Nope." Evan grinned at her. "But you can kiss me later."
"I'll hold you to that," she said, curling up happily beside him. He put his arms around her, loving the feel of her body and the weight of her against him. The remains of the chains that had bound her clanked beneath her suit. "Promise me that nobody but you will ever tie me up anywhere, ever again," she said. He laughed out loud.
"That's a promise I'm happy to make."
“Is Gibbs okay?” she asked anxiously.
“He’s fine. I’ll explain it all to you when I get my breath back,” he replied, squeezing her against him.
"Look how pretty the sunrise is," she said, raising her head to look around the glade. "It's been so dark and I was so scared…but in the daylight this place is beautiful."
It was – the sun glowed a shade of deep pink, bathing everything around them in a violet glow.
"Pretty but deadly," he told her. "The radiation burns the skin off the body – that's why we had to get these suits on."
"Wow – you literally did get here in the nick of time," she said, cuddling into him more closely. "How *did* you get here?" she asked. "You were kind of wet when you arrived…and sort of half-naked."
"I ran 23 miles then swam two to get here," he told her.
"23 miles? God, Evan - that's almost a marathon," she said. "And then you still had the energy to swim all that way – and all for me?" Her eyes were shining behind the visor.
"Yes," he replied. "All for you, Abby.”
He longed to kiss her, and roll her beneath him and make love to her, but had to content himself with stroking the outside of her hazmat suit with his fingers.
"What's that?" Abby sat up, and Lorne propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, startled.
Somewhere, a long way off, something was screaming. The sound rose and fell in a long staccato wail.
"Might be one of those reptiles I shot – maybe one of them got caught on the surface of the water when the sun came up," he murmured uneasily.
Abby pressed back against him, holding him tight. "I thought this place was creepy during the night but I’m starting to think it’s even worse during the day," she whispered.
She was leaning on his wounded shoulder but he didn't say anything – he just pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms firmly around her.
"It's okay," he told her. "It's over. I'm here now and you'll always be safe with me."
"Safe. Yes." She smiled at him. "But not boring, right?" she queried anxiously, a moment later. He laughed out loud.
"No…not boring. I promise you I'll always make it exciting as long as you promise you'll always let me keep you safe."
"I promise," she grinned.
They lay there for a long time, not speaking, just holding each other, and then, a little while later, Lorne heard the low hum of the jumper coming towards him. It took all his strength to get to his feet and walk slowly over to it, holding Abby's gloved hand tightly in his.
"About time," he muttered to Conway, as they took their seats on the bunks inside. Conway grinned at him, and then at Abby.
"Well done, Colonel," he said. "Nice to see you safe and sound, Abby!"
"Go pick up Rice and then let's head for home," Lorne said wearily, putting his arm around Abby and closing his eyes. "And then I'm going to sleep for a week."
Conway's grin broadened. "You got it," he said.
Hansen piloted them over to where he'd left Rice, and they opened the hatch but there was no sign of the lieutenant.
"You sure this was where you left him?" Conway asked.
"Yeah…I'll go take a look," Lorne said, with a sigh. He felt too tired to move but there was no point in any of the others getting suited up. He stepped outside and walked along the shore. It looked so different in the daytime – Abby was right; it was pretty. The water, which had been an inky black in the night, was now shimmering in various shades of violet and purple as the sun warmed it, and the sandy beach shone a pretty shade of pinky yellow.
He saw a pile of what he recognised as his own possessions and went over to them. His clothes and radio were piled up where he'd left them but there was no sign of Rice. He stepped over some rocks, and then slipped in a pile of red goo. Something crunched underfoot.
"Oh shit." Lorne crouched down and examined the goo in more detail.
"Evan?" Abby came up behind him. "Is everything okay? Is Jamie here? Oh." She stared down at what he was standing in.
Lorne saw Rice's pack, untouched, a few yards away and picked it up. His heart sank as he opened it and pulled out the unworn hazmat suit. He saw the body of a reptile nearby, the leathery skin better able to withstand the sun's radiation than human flesh. There was a long gash in its side which looked as if it might have been caused by gunfire.
"Oh no. Jamie." Lorne shook his head. "The damn bird must have injured him during a dive-bomb and he didn't make it to his pack in time to get his suit on," he whispered.
"That sound we heard…" Abby's eyes were wide with horror.
"That was him burning to death in the sun," Lorne said. "Oh shit. I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry." He crouched down beside what remained of Rice's body, found the dog tags, and pocketed them. Then he and Abby scooped up the gloopy remains and shoved them into the spare hazmat suit to transport what was left of Jamie back to Atlantis.
"I'm so sorry, Evan," Abby said softly. "He was a nice kid, and he died helping you rescue me."
Lorne picked up Rice's pack and Abby picked up his own, and they walked slowly back to the jumper. All his earlier elation was gone; he'd succeeded - he'd saved Abby and he could never regret that - but he'd paid a high price.
He felt Abby's gloved hand slip inside his own, and she squeezed her fingers gently against his hand.
"I know what it's like," she told him. "We lost a member of our team once. Kate. She was my friend - I still miss her."
He nodded, squeezing her hand a little in return, and they got into the jumper together.
"Take us home, Hansen," he said softly, as the hatch closed behind them.
"But Rice…?" Conway began and then he saw the expression on Lorne's face. "Oh shit," he sighed.
Lorne sat back down as the jumper took off. Abby pulled his helmet off, and then began unfastening his suit.
"Your shoulder was injured," she said. "I want to take a look at it."
"Don't," he told her. "Just…come here. Please."
She took off her own suit, and then curled up in his lap like a cat, and he held her close and buried his face in her pigtails.
"It's okay," Abby whispered, and her fingers gently combed through his hair, stroking and soothing. "I've got you, Evan, and I'm never going to let you go."
He had thought it was all about him keeping her safe but it turned out it was the other way around. Her arms were strong, and she held him while he cried silently into her hair; hot, bitter tears of exhaustion and grief. "I've got you," she repeated. "I've got you. Ssh. It's okay. I'm here. That's it. Let it go, let it go, let it go."
~*~
End of Part Thirteen
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Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Fourteen
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 Thirteen: "Rodney, in case you haven't noticed Gibbs has collared a lot of subs. I'm nothing more to him than one more sub to rescue, and he never promised me anything more than that, to be fair. I'm the one who screwed up the deal by falling in love with him."
Hiding in Plain Sight
By Xanthe
Part Thirteen
Gibbs had never been through a stargate before and the effect was momentarily disorienting. One moment he was in the control room on Atlantis, then he was walking through what felt like thick, gooey water, and he couldn’t hear anything except for a buzzing in his ears, and then he seemed to be walking down a green-blue tunnel, before emerging, suddenly and unexpectedly, into a lush forest.
He took a moment to get his bearings and then saw Sheppard, Carson and the blonde marine Sheppard had brought along, waiting for him.
Sheppard checked the audio and then nodded. "Still got it," he said, and Gibbs heaved a sigh of relief as he heard Tony's voice in his ear and Rodney's muted reply. At least they were both still alive – but for how much longer? He glanced around, looking for some kind of surveillance device that would tell Jordan they were here. Sheppard was already on it, and gestured with his head to a tiny hidden camera aimed at the gate.
"Looks like Rodney's work," he said. "Doubt Jordan did much more than order him around and tell him what to do."
And slap him around, Gibbs thought to himself but it was wiser not to voice that thought. Rodney Sheppard had looked pretty beat up – as had Tony. Gibbs felt his world narrowing to a little point. He'd seen Tony beat up before, and while he was always aware of his own ice cold anger when it happened, he had never allowed himself to give in to that anger – in fact he'd barely ever acknowledged it. This was different – he felt pushed to the edge here. He was outside his normal environment, reliant on the help of strangers, using a stargate to travel from planet to planet and something he'd done a very long time ago had come back to bite him – spectacularly – on the ass.
"Well, he knows which one you've chosen," Sheppard said. "So I guess the ball's in his court now."
"Yeah – and that means we don't have much time," Gibbs replied shortly. He kept one ear on the audio feed from his headset, waiting to hear it change, to hear Jordan re-enter that room and take his revenge on Gibbs by killing Tony, but there was nothing except for the sound of Tony's occasionally ragged breathing and Rodney's chains clanking against the wall.
"This way." Sheppard read his hand-held device and began walking – fast – through the trees. Gibbs jogged along easily behind him. This was like being back in the Marines, and the memory of being part of a platoon working ops came back to him as if it was yesterday.
After about fifteen minutes they reached a clearing, and in it found the rundown Genii complex which consisted of three ramshackle old buildings.
"Problem?" Gibbs asked, as Sheppard circled around, looking at his handheld device the entire time.
"Yeah. There are three towers, sunk into the ground beneath each building…need to figure out which one to raid," John replied.
"Underground?" Gibbs queried. John made a face.
"It's a Genii thing. They just love being underground."
"Any life-signs?" Carson asked, looking at the device over John's shoulder.
"Yeah… " John twirled, his face scrunched up. "Two life-signs – right at the bottom – long way down. That tower there." He pointed at the rundown building furthest away. Gibbs started walking towards it. "But…" John began. Gibbs turned back. "Isn't it a bit obvious?" John frowned. "Three buildings, two life-signs at the bottom of one of them, just sitting there waiting to be rescued. Supposing it's the wrong building – but we don't find out until we get down there?"
"You think it's a trap?" Carson asked.
"He knows it's a trap," Gibbs snapped. "What he's worried about is whether it's also a bluff. No life-signs anywhere else?" Gibbs asked, looking around.
"Nope…but this building…" John pointed to the one closest to them. "It's got more radiation than the rest – I can't get anything reliable off it."
"Bastard knew that – that's why he brought them here," Gibbs growled. "He wasn't going to make it easy for us."
"I say we go for the one with the life-signs," Carson said. John and Gibbs gazed at each other. "It's at least *something* to go on!" Carson said. Gibbs sighed, and rubbed his jaw.
"It's your call, General," he said. "You're mission leader."
"Okay then." John walked towards the building with the life-signs. "Maybe I'm over-complicating things, and Carson's right – at least it's something."
Sheppard pulled the ramshackle door off at the hinges. On the outside, the building looked like a rundown agricultural barn, but inside it was overgrown with weeds.
"Looks like someone's been here recently." Gibbs pointed at the disturbed vegetation around a large trap door.
"Yeah. Could still be a bluff though," John said. He reached the trap door and waved the blonde marine over. "Cadman – this one booby trapped?" he asked. She knelt down beside it, reaching for a bag of equipment.
"Major Cadman is an explosives expert," Carson told Gibbs. "The best I've met. She's also one of the mouthiest and most annoying subs I've ever met," he added with a grin. "Hard as nails and bossy as hell – I thought she was a top for almost a year after we arrived until she tried to seduce me one time – well it was kind of her. I mean it *was* her but she was in someone else's body at the time – uh, long story."
Gibbs grunted. He'd known the blonde marine was a sub the minute he'd been introduced to her but he knew not everyone had his knack for instinctively picking up orientation on sight. Then the last part of Carson’s sentence penetrated his brain and he turned, frowning.
“She was in someone else’s body?” he queried. Carson made a face at him and pointed at John.
"We don’t talk about it," he signed with his hands.
John turned. “Are you talking about that thing we don’t talk about?” he asked.
Carson grimaced. “No. Definitely not,” he said firmly.
“Glad to hear it.” John turned back to Cadman.
“It was Rodney,” Carson whispered to Gibbs. “She was in Rodney’s body and she kissed me. John didn’t, uh, react very well…”
Gibbs had no doubt that was a massive understatement. He wondered how the hell he’d ended up here, in a galaxy so far from home, with people who routinely battled vampire-like aliens and swapped bodies, for god’s sake. And now his subs were scattered over three planets, each of them in three different kinds of deadly peril - you couldn’t make it up. It was all so insane that he’d have laughed his head off if it wasn’t all so close to home.
How were the others doing, he wondered? How were his other subs, and the people he’d sent to rescue them? Would they make it back alive? He remembered the words of the Athosian prophetess, Mara. Was she right? Would he lose them all – all except one? And if so – who would survive? Ducky was the only one of his subs who was safe on Atlantis right now – maybe he'd lose all the others. His gut clenched at the thought – he had already told Ducky he didn't intend to go back if Tony died and he meant it. There was no way he'd be leaving at all if he lost four of his subs, prophecy be damned.
He jerked slightly as he heard voices in his ear - Rodney and Tony were talking. It was good to hear Tony's voice again. He could tell by the expression in Sheppard's eyes that he was listening too - and they glanced at each other for a moment, sharing the same sense of relief at hearing their subs speak.
Cadman found some wires, traced them back to some C4 explosive, and effortlessly disarmed the small bomb attached to the trapdoor.
"Well Jordan said there were booby traps," Sheppard murmured. "Question is – would he bother trapping the building they're not in as a bluff?"
"Question also is – how many are there?" Gibbs asked. "Looking at these schematics you dug out of your database there are seventeen levels to this place, all of them accessible only by one door at the end of each staircase. If he's booby-trapped all seventeen of them then it'll take us longer than six hours to get there."
"We'll get there. Cadman does her best work under pressure, don't you, Major?" Sheppard told her with a grim smile. "She'll be faster next time."
She'd been pretty fast this time, Gibbs thought, but Sheppard clearly knew his people and she looked like she relished the challenge.
"Yes, sir!" she said sharply.
Sheppard pulled open the trap door and they went down a narrow metal staircase and then walked along a featureless dark corridor.
They reached the door at the end and Cadman set to work again.
Gibbs leaned back against the wall, caressing the butt of his P-90. It wasn't a familiar gun for him, but he liked the way it felt in his hands. There was another bomb attached to the next door; Cadman located it quickly and efficiently but he could see the sweat beading her brow as she worked, hands moving fast over the wiring.
"Don't worry," Sheppard told him in an undertone. "We'll get there in time. Your boy won't bleed out on my watch."
Gibbs took a sharp intake of breath. He'd been deliberately not thinking about Tony, lying on that steel bed with the blood draining out of his veins, because he needed to stay focussed. They all watched as Cadman worked. Gibbs listened to Tony and Rodney talk in his earpiece, glad of the sound of Tony's voice, reassuring him that his sub was still alive. He hated it when there was a silence and wished he could order Tony to keep talking, but he didn't know Gibbs was listening so there was little Gibbs could do except ride out the silences.
"Still think Gibbs will be coming for you?" Rodney's voice.
"Nope." Tony.
"Who will he rescue then?"
"Abby. She's his favourite – always has been, always will be. Besides…he's been kind of pissed at me lately. And even when he's not pissed at me I really wind him up. So definitely not me."
John gazed at Gibbs dispassionately. Gibbs gazed back at him just as blank-faced but he felt as if he'd been on the receiving end of one of Jordan's backhanders by the tone of utter certainty in Tony's voice. Was Tony right, he thought to himself? Would he have chosen Abby? If he'd had a real choice, is that what he'd have done? If it was down to his feelings alone, would it have been Abby? He felt the most protective towards her – she was the only one of the three of them who wasn't a trained field agent, and besides…she was like a daughter to him. She was a lot older than Kelly would have been, if she hadn’t been killed, but there was something about her that brought out all his paternal instincts. He loved her - but then he loved all his subs.
He thought of Tim, who was so smart it was scary, and so totally not smart when it came to tops; who lived out his entire life in fear that someone would guess that he'd never yet gone to a top's bed. It wasn't such a dark secret, Gibbs thought wryly, when he remembered the many dark secrets he'd kept over the years. He hadn't told any of his agents about his first wife, his daughter, or how they'd died. Ducky knew, obviously, and Ziva knew, but only because she'd done a dossier on him before she joined NCIS. Nobody else knew. Just like nobody knew he'd tracked down the man who'd killed them and emptied his gun into him. Yet poor Tim tortured himself about his much more innocent secret all the same. He had always had a soft spot for the probie; would he have gone for Tim?
Then there was Tony. Tony who never let anyone get really close, who used misdirection like his own secret superpower. Tony who had told him dozens of stories about the same events in his life, all of them with a slightly different emphasis, so it wasn't easy figuring out what was true and what was just Tony's sleight of hand. Tony who he knew he loved, who he'd loved for years without doing a damn thing about it. And Tony who, right now, was absolutely certain that Gibbs didn't love him at all. Gibbs thumped his head back against the wall. This hurt. This hurt as much as Jordan must have hoped it would hurt.
"Why was he pissed at you?"
"You were there! You know…that whole nearly arresting you fiasco."
"Oh. That. You were such a jerk to me, DiNozzo."
"Yeah, well…it's kind of my thing, you know. Being a jerk. People expect it of me. If it's any consolation I haven't been able to sit down easily ever since."
"How's it coming along, Cadman?" Sheppard asked. It felt claustrophobic in that small corridor, the three men lined along the side, Cadman working away at the door. Gibbs clamped down hard on his raging impatience; this one was taking a lot longer than the first.
"Nearly there, sir – this one's a doozy," she replied. Gibbs fought, with all his self-control, to stay focussed. They were just standing here while down below them, a very long way down, Tony was bleeding to death.
"Gibbs punished you for it?"
"Hell yeah. Big time. Although to be fair I deserved it. How about you and John? Did he take you down for that lie you told?"
"Yeah. Well, kind of."
"Bad?"
"Yes. Well…no…bad but kind of a good bad."
Gibbs watched as John gave a wry grin at that. He wondered, idly, what he'd have done if it had been Tony telling the lie, and he who had to punish it. He was sure he could be suitably creative but finding the right way to handle a sub wasn't always easy. Was that the kind of lie Tony would tell, he wondered? A lie to protect his top? He didn't think so – he knew that what Gibbs hated more than anything else was his subs lying to him. Then he remembered what Jordan had said about Tony's first instinct being to protect him when they'd been shot at. Maybe Tony *would* lie to him…maybe Tony *had* been lying to him, for a very long time, about something very important.
"Ah, that's the *best* kind of bad, Rodney. I LIKE that kind of bad!"
John gave a little snort of amusement. "Your boy is funny, Gibbs. I'll give him that," he murmured.
"Yeah. DiNozzo is a regular comedian," Gibbs commented dryly.
"It felt personal. The way you treated me that day."
"Yeah, well, Rodney…maybe it was. Maybe it was."
Gibbs tightened his hands around his gun. Jordan had to know they were here – so what was his plan? Why was he waiting? Why didn't he just go straight in there and do whatever it was he intended to do to Tony? He had a feeling he was being played, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.
"Why? What did I ever do to you?"
"Nothing. Just…watching you with John…I guess I was kind of jealous."
Gibbs frowned.
"He loves you, Rodney. No, he's *crazy* about you. All that lifebonding, sharing a plate stuff. You've latiqued your entwined initials on your arms! Then there's the matching pendants, and that handmade wedding collar he crafted for you and the way he looks at you..."
"Oh."
"Figured it out now?"
"But Gibbs loves you, right? I mean, he collared you?"
"Rodney, in case you haven't noticed Gibbs has collared a lot of subs. I'm nothing more to him than one more sub to rescue, and he never promised me anything more than that, to be fair. I'm the one who screwed up the deal by falling in love with him."
Gibbs lowered his head and stared at the floor, unblinking. There, now it had been said, and he couldn't keep pretending he didn't know the truth of it any more.
"You told him any of this?"
"No, Rodney – like I said, I knew the deal when he collared me. He's not in love with me, and he's never gonna be in love me and that's fine. It's my problem – not his."
"Wow," John said, raising a wry eyebrow at Gibbs. "When that boy of yours gets something wrong, he really gets it wrong, doesn't he?"
"All part of the DiNozzo charm," Gibbs sighed, shaking his head. "How did you know?" he asked, because he thought this was one particular secret he'd hidden pretty well.
Sheppard's handsome face broke into a grin. "'Cause he's trouble," he said. "And you're like me – you *like* trouble."
Gibbs gave an amused grunt. "Rodney's a handful, huh?"
"Yeah – and that's what makes him so much fun," Sheppard said, with a wink. "Just like DiNozzo. Besides – you're here, aren't you? You telling me you'd have let anyone else – and I mean *anyone* else come rescue him? I don't care what you said about it not being a choice – it was. Lorne and David made it easy for you, but it was still a choice, Gibbs. You made it, even though you didn't know you were making it. He's the one you're in love with – and I don't even think that's a surprise to you, is it?"
"Hell no." Gibbs shook his head. Sheppard gave him a strange look.
"So, question is – why's it gonna be such a surprise to him?" he asked.
~*~
Ziva made her way down to the jumper bay with Ronon and Teyla walking beside her, and a handful of Sheppard's marines at their heels. She might not have known Teyla and Ronon for very long but she trusted them, implicitly. They felt like good companions to have in such a battle – both of them warriors, like herself.
She tried not to think about Tim. Gibbs had told her to stay focussed and if she thought about him she felt the darkness inside threatening to rise up and overwhelm her. She'd gone slowly with him these past few days, as Gibbs had advised, gentling him, taking care of him, making no claims on him. She knew now that she wanted to take him as her sub one day but only when he was ready, and that might take some time.
It made a change not to bed a sub and take what she wanted from them, hard and savage, without getting to know them first. She found that she liked the gentle pace, the slow build-up, and the sense of pride she felt that he was learning to trust her. She would take him places he had only dreamed of, she promised herself. She would show him how good it could be to surrender his body, heart and soul to the will of a top who loved him. She would coax and tease the best from him, until he was eating out of her hand. It would be so much more satisfying than all those nights of angry, empty sex. But first…first she had to bring him home safely.
They reached the bay and the marine Sheppard had assigned to pilot them went to the controls. Ziva followed him.
"Wait!" a voice called out, and she turned to see a young woman running up behind them, armed to the teeth.
"Kahla?" she frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the city awaiting combat training with Teyla and got knocked out with the gas, same as everyone else," Kahla said. "Someone told me what was happening and I…" She stopped, looking a little nervous, and then glanced at Teyla, who nodded to her that she should continue. "I wanted to help," she said firmly. "I am a good fighter, Ziva, and you need all the good fighters you can get."
"I have good fighters and you owe me nothing," Ziva told her, turning. Kahla placed a hand on her arm.
"Then I would like to help as a friend," she said softly. Ziva turned back to see something in Kahla's eyes that hadn't been there before. She glanced at Teyla, who smiled.
"Kahla and I have had many talks these past few days," she said. "Kahla has chosen who she wishes to be, Ziva – as have you I believe," she murmured.
"We are going to rescue someone I love," Ziva told Kahla. "His name is Tim McGee, and, if - *when* - I bring him home, if he is willing, I will collar him. Do you still wish to come with us, Kahla?"
Kahla gazed at her from fierce, proud eyes. "It would be my honour," she said, bowing her head in that Athosian way. "Will you accept my help, Ziva?"
Ziva felt surprised that anyone would risk their life to help her. She had only known these people a couple of weeks but they had chosen to come with her and help her fight for her submissive. She liked their company, the simplicity of their friendship, and the knowledge that they were warriors in their souls, just like her, and had done battle with their own demons to be at ease with who they were – just as she had.
"I will, Kahla," she said, touched. "And – thank you."
~*~
Lieutenant-Colonel Lorne sighed as the puddle jumper died a second time. It took all his skill to keep it from crash-landing in the marshlands – instead he did a neat nose dive and managed to bring it down relatively safely on dry land. Then he turned and glared at Dr Conway who was busy frantically trying to get the jumper started again.
"What's the problem?" Lorne snapped at his scientist. Conway shook his head.
"It's the solar radiation, Colonel," he said. "It's created a kind of ionic cloaking field around the planet – keeps jamming the jumper controls."
"Jason - Abby is sitting on an island 23 miles in that direction." Lorne waved his arm due south. "And there's no way Jordan carried her there so he and Rodney had to have used the jumper Jordan stole. How come *they* managed to get their jumper working out here?"
Conway gave a resigned sigh, and looked up from his work. "Much as I hate to say it, Colonel, I'm not Rodney Sheppard. He might be the most difficult, temperamental and downright obnoxious boss I've ever worked for, but he is right when he tells people he's a genius. He can do things on the fly that the rest of us have to sit down and work on. Now, I can get the jumper flying again but I need some time to figure out how."
"Okay." Lorne nodded – Conway hated Rodney so if he was paying him compliments then it had to be bad. "How long do you think it will take?"
"Several hours." Conway bit on his lip. Too long, Lorne thought. The sun would come up in four, and soon after that Abby would be fried out there, with no protection.
"Then here's what we'll do," Lorne said, getting up and grabbing two hazmat suits from the back of the jumper and stuffing them into his backpack. "I'm going to go out there and run to Abby's position. You stay here and figure out how to get this thing flying again. When you've figured it out, fly it over to where we are and rescue us. Hazmat suits will keep us safe until you get there. Stay in radio contact at all times. Lieutenant Rice you're with me. Sergeant Hansen – you stay with Conway. Okay, let's get moving."
Lorne didn't wait to hear Conway's protests – and he was sure there were plenty. He just ran out of the back of the jumper and started jogging across the wet ground. A few seconds later he heard Rice catch up with him.
"You do know we have to jog 23 miles and then swim for two carrying hazmat suits to reach her, don't you?" Rice asked him. Lorne glanced sideways at him.
"No, *I* have to jog 23 miles and swim for two with the hazmat suits," Lorne told him. "You're going to run with me and then cover me while I swim. Those dinosaur birds patrol the open water like tops at an orgy, and I remember from last time I was here how they like to dive-bomb anything that's moving. Your job is to shoot them down when they go for me while I'm in the water."
"Right," Rice said. “Sir…I like Abby…and I really hope she’s going to be okay but even if we could see where we’re going, and even if those dino-bird things weren’t out there, this is one hell of a task.”
"I can do it, Jamie," Lorne said firmly. “And if I can, so can you. You’re not long out of basic training and your legs are fifteen years younger than mine. Now – let’s get moving.”
"Yes, sir!" Rice said, shooting him a grin.
Lorne was a serial monogamist – he'd had many subs in his life, but none of them for longer than a few months. He'd never met anyone he wanted to collar and couldn't imagine sharing a plate with anyone, but Abby was different. Abby was special. He loved everything about her from her big heart to her big green eyes. She was fun to be around, in and out of the bedroom. He also loved that she enjoyed being tied as much as he enjoyed tying her. He loved the pretty patterns his rope made on her body, and the way she'd wriggled and sighed when he had her captive and tied beneath him. He'd never had a sub who responded as perfectly as Abby – she'd looked so beautiful naked, her skin criss-crossed with his rope.
The only possible obstacle to their relationship, as far as Lorne could see, was Gibbs. He thought the other top trusted him to take care of Abby but he needed to prove to the man that he was worthy of her – and if he had to risk his life running and swimming half way across this planet then he would. No question.
~*~
Rodney tried to shift himself into a more comfortable sitting position but it wasn't easy when he was chained to the wall by his neck and arms. His head hurt from where he'd been thwacked every few minutes by Jordan, and he was exhausted from being on the go for so long with no rest while he'd helped Jordan set up his revenge. Rodney wasn't sure he'd done the right thing helping Jordan; not that he thought he'd had any choice, but, even so, he was horrified by the results of his actions.
He glanced over at Tony, lying on the steel bed. That tube in his arm had turned red three times now, and he could see the colour draining visibly from the agent's face. This served to make the bruises on his jaw stand out even more against his now deathly white skin. They'd been silent for awhile, and Rodney had a sudden, horrible thought that he might end up sharing this room with a corpse.
"Should I keep you talking?" he blurted. Tony moved his head, slowly, and gazed at him, a question in his eyes. "Uh, I know with a head injury you're supposed to keep the person talking – aren't you? Is this the same? I just…I don't want you falling unconscious."
"Worried I'm going to croak on you, probie?" Tony asked, with a grin. "Don't worry – I wouldn't do that to you."
"Probie?" Rodney frowned.
"That what I said?" Tony laughed. "Must be thinking of someone else. Do you know where he took them? Tim and Abby? Are they going to be okay?"
"Honestly?" Rodney shook his head. "I really don't know if they're going to be okay. And yes I do know where he took them."
"He made you help him?" Tony asked. Rodney shifted again, hating himself.
"Yeah. You blame me?" he asked softly.
"You said earlier that he had a bomb tied around John's throat?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "No, Rodney. I don't blame you. If it had been Gibbs I'd have done the exact same thing. Not that the cold-hearted bastard would have deserved it."
"You really think he's that? Cold-hearted?" Rodney asked.
He watched Tony sigh, and stare at the ceiling for a long time.
"I don't know," he said at last. "Sometimes I do…other times, he looks at me and I see *something* there, but then it's gone and I think that maybe I imagined it."
"You don't like tops much, do you?" Rodney murmured.
"Never met one I couldn't outplay," Tony replied with a grin. "Well, except Gibbs. And I never stayed with one long enough to let them screw with my head. Commitment issues, probie."
"Rodney."
"Whatever."
"I never believed in relationships, collaring, sharing a plate - all that stuff, until I met John," Rodney confided. "My parents were switches – insane switches. It was like living in a war zone growing up, or a real-life chess game with me and my sister as pawns."
"Oh yeah. I know that feeling," Tony chuckled, and then his head flopped back and he took a deep breath. "Is it me or is the room underwater now?" he asked.
"It's you," Rodney said quietly.
"Hey – your parents drink?" Tony asked.
"My dad did. My mum became teetotal as a reaction against him. They were both switches so they defined themselves in any other way they could in opposition to each other."
"My father was an alcoholic," Tony told him. "You sure the room isn't underwater?"
"Really sure."
"Okay, probie. Take your word for it. Where was I? Oh yeah – parents. Mine used to drink like other people breathe. That was before mom died. Afterwards me and dad stayed in a succession of swanky hotel suites so dad could drink himself stupid without having to clear up after. He used to go out and pick up these subs, bring them back to our suite, tie them up in his bedroom, fuck them senseless, and then pass out. I could pretty much hear everything – he was too drunk to be quiet and they didn’t even know I was sleeping in the room next door."
"Sounds crappy," Rodney commented.
"Ah, good times, probie, good times. ‘Course I’d have to go in there in the mornings and untie them or they’d have been there until lunchtime before he woke up. I used to give them this little lecture on safe sex – I mean, what the hell kind of a dumb sub goes to a hotel room with a tanked up top and lets him tie them up? Idiots.”
“So who looked after you if he was drunk all the time?” Rodney asked.
“Maids, bellboys – met some really cool concierges. They always know the best places to hang out. Then, when I hit puberty, I decided there was no way he should have all the fun so I started sneaking out at night wearing tight pants to get myself laid. Tops are so easy. Dad caught me a few times…didn't like it when I wouldn't stop – probably only doing it to get his attention anyway. That backfired – he ended up sending me away to boarding school."
"Shit – Tony, that sounds horrible."
"Best days of my life," Tony sighed. "Loved boarding school. Of course they tried to separate the doms and subs but we were young and not everyone was sure of their orientation, and those that were unsure…well, I was happy to help 'em find out! Once I'd gone through all the 'undecideds' in my dormitory I used to climb out at night, shin down the drainpipe, and break into the dom dormitory in the next building for some fun. Got found out eventually, of course."
"What happened?" Rodney hadn't thought he'd ever meet anyone with as fucked up a childhood as he'd had, but Tony's was coming pretty close.
"House-mistress disciplined me every night for a week," Tony said, with a happy sigh. "But by the end of that week the DiNozzo charm had worked on her and I spent the rest of the term tied up in her bed at nights."
"And you were underage?" Rodney asked, horrified.
"Yeah. Wasn't her fault though – I seduced her. She didn't stand a chance."
"I'm not surprised you have a low opinion of tops," Rodney commented. "They've kind of being letting you down your entire life."
"Oh, I never let them get close enough to let me down, probie," Tony told him. "Just use 'em and move on."
"Until Gibbs," Rodney said quietly. Tony went very still, and then gave a big sigh.
"Yeah. Until Gibbs. He won't let me use him and he sure as hell won't use me." He laughed at the double entendre. "He's right not to want me, Rodney," he said softly. "I'm bad news."
"I think if anyone can handle you Gibbs can," Rodney said. He wondered if it was a good or bad sign that Tony seemed to have remembered his name again.
"Yeah. Well, we'll never know will we, Rodney?" Tony replied. "Time's running out."
“Why do you stay with him?” Rodney asked. “Why not move on, find a top who wants you as much as you want them?”
Tony was silent for a moment, and Rodney hoped he was still conscious. Then he moved his head. “Never thought I’d let anyone collar me,” he said. “But when Gibbs asked…well, it was five years ago now and…” He trailed off and then sighed. “How did you feel when John collared you, Rodney?”
Rodney thought of a meal on a beach, with the sun setting around them, and the sheer *rightness* of accepting John’s collar around his neck.
“It meant everything,” he murmured.
“Same here,” Tony said. “He told me that sleeping together wasn’t part of the deal but the minute he buckled that collar around my neck I found I was old-fashioned. If I was going to wear his collar then I wasn’t going to sleep with any other top.”
“You’ve been celibate for five years?” Rodney asked, disbelieving. “You?”
Tony chuckled softly. “People just see what they want to see, probie,” he said softly.
“It’s an act?”
“Not all the time.” Tony’s voice faded, and then strengthened. “Collar meant something y'see…and I wanted to prove to myself that I was worthy of someone like him. It was kind of a test for myself and you know, I think I did pretty well.” He glanced at the tube in his arm as it filled again with his own blood. "Feeling kinda tired," he murmured. "Too tired to swim any more. You lied, Rodney; this room is underwater."
Rodney pulled against the chains binding him, even knowing he was tied fast. If he could just get free he could go over there, and stop this. Tony's head rolled sideways and he closed his eyes.
"Tony!" Rodney pulled on his chains frantically. "DiNozzo! Wake up!"
But this time there was no reply.
~*~
Tim wasn't sure where he was. One minute he'd been in a meeting on Atlantis and the next he'd woken up on a slab of rock, with people gazing at him. Scary people with skulls attached to their belts and teeth hanging in necklaces around their throats. His brain couldn't even begin to make sense of it. He passed out, and when he awoke again he was aware of his arm throbbing and, looking down, he saw that his gunshot wound had re-opened. Blood had soaked through his bandage and was now dripping down his arm.
"Hello?" he called out. The scary villagers ignored him. "Am I dead?" Tim asked, with a frown. "Only, if I'm alive this is a really freaky thing to have happened."
One of the villagers glanced up, laughed at him, and then drew her hand across her throat and laughed again.
"Okay. There's no planet in the universe where that can possibly be good," Tim muttered. He wondered where his team were and if there was any possibility of a rescue. He thought Gibbs would probably be kind of pissed – and Ziva…he grimaced. Ziva was likely to go ballistic and he'd seen her go ballistic before and it wasn't pretty. He didn't like that dark, intense look she got in her eyes and hoped she'd never direct it at him.
"Sunset," one of the villagers said, pointing up at the sky. Tim could see the sun was sinking inexorably towards the horizon.
"What happens at sunset?" he asked, and she turned and pointed at an open fire a few feet away. Several dozen crudely made knives were resting beside it. She smiled at him, and he got full view of her rotting teeth and smelled her foul breath.
"Sunset," she said again, with another cackle. "That is when we will make our sacrifice to appease the Wraith."
"Uh…sacrifice?" Tim asked, nervously.
She smiled at him, her eyes glowing in the firelight. "You," she told him.
Tim banged his head back on the stone slab he was tied to. "Oh shit," he muttered.
~*~
Running 23 miles across open land – some of it dangerously marshy – reminded Lorne of his time in basic training. This time though, the incentive to cover the distance was much greater, and he pushed himself to the limit. Rice struggled to keep up with him, and Lorne knew they were both risking sprained ankles or worse running this fast over this kind of terrain but he didn't have a choice. They didn't have long before the sun rose, and anyone caught in the open without the protection of a hazmat suit would die within minutes.
One of the planet's moons had already set and the other four were slowly sinking towards the horizon. Every now and again Lorne heard Abby talking to herself, and sometimes she sang, which made a little smile curve at the corners of his lips. Hearing her on his radio helped keep him focussed and the adrenaline pumping.
He was tired, but he didn't have time to rest when he reached the water's edge. He quickly dumped his pack on the ground, grabbed his canteen and took several large gulps of water, and then emptied his pack of everything except the hazmat suits, the canteen of water and his knife. He took off all his clothes except his boxers, wrapped his gun in one of the hazmat suits to keep it dry, and then fastened his pack over his shoulders again. It wouldn't be easy swimming with it on his back but he didn't have a choice; without the hazmat suits they'd die as soon as the rays from the sun hit their skin.
Rice came running up, panting heavily, and bent over, putting his hands on his knees. He retched a couple of times, looking completely exhausted. Lorne tapped his radio.
"Conway – I'm going into the water now. Any news on the jumper before I risk my life taking on those dinosaur birds?" he asked. If the jumper was fixed he didn't need to make the swim – they could fly to Abby within minutes.
"Sorry, Colonel – I'm close but I'm not there yet," Conway replied. "Half the crystals were fried when we went down the second time. I'm replacing them with fresh ones and I've recalibrated to…"
"I don't need to know," Lorne told him briskly. "Just get it done and come rescue us. I'm going into the water now so all radio contact from now on should be with Rice."
"Yes, Colonel. And Evan? Good luck," Conway said. Lorne grinned. He and his team worked well together, and he had a sneaking affection for his scientist. Okay, so he might not be a Rodney Sheppard but he was a good man, even if Lorne did have a sneaking suspicion that he might be non-dynamic. The way Lorne saw it that was Jason Conway's business and nobody else's, and Lorne had already taken down one marine on Atlantis when he'd overheard the man making snide comments about Conway's sexual orientation.
Lorne threw his radio on the pile with his pack, and then took a deep breath and looked into the depths of the inky black water. It was a long swim over to the island where Abby was being held captive – about two miles, which, after having just run 23, was one hell of a distance. Rice made a face.
"You sure you want to do this, sir?" he asked. "We could just wait for Conway to fix the jumper and…"
"And supposing he doesn't get it done until after sun-up, Rice?" Lorne said. "You think I could sit here on the shore safely wrapped up in my hazmat suit and listen to her screams as the sun fries her? Have you ever seen someone die of this kind of solar radiation? It literally burns the flesh off the body, leaving a pile of jellied remains behind. It takes about five minutes to die – five minutes of total agony."
Rice swallowed hard. "It's just…that's a long swim and those flying reptiles are vicious, sir," he murmured. "And, uh, we…I don't want to lose you."
Lorne felt a little pang at that. Rice was a sub, and one he'd played with a few times back when they'd first arrived on Atlantis. They hadn't really been compatible – Rice's aversion to being tied hadn't exactly helped – and their relationship, such as it was, had soon burnt itself out, but it had left a residue of affection behind. The young marine had a knack of always looking untidy and appearing clumsy but he was a good kid – his big brown eyes were kind of endearing, and Lorne had enjoyed running his hands through his messy dark hair.
"Rice – Jamie – you're just a kid so I wouldn't expect you to understand, but I have to do this," Lorne told him, placing his hands on Rice's shoulders. Rice bit his lip, looked at the ground, and then looked up at him and nodded.
"You're in love with her, aren't you, sir?" Rice asked. Lorne grinned.
"Yeah, I am – and you know how crazy tops are when they're in love, Lieutenant! Now – you're a good shot and you need to be if you're going to keep those reptiles from killing me in the water. I need you to cover my back for me while I swim, Jamie."
"I won't be able to cover you all the way to the other side, sir."
"I know." Lorne nodded, strapping his thigh holster around his half-naked body and then sliding his knife into the holster. "I'll have to take care of it myself when I get that far out. Now, you need to remember to put on your hazmat suit the minute the moons set – okay? Right when this world is at its darkest because sunrise happens quickly here and once it does it's too late. Understood?"
Rice nodded. Lorne patted his arm and then drew away, and, without hesitating, threw himself head first into the dark water.
It was icy cold, and the first shock of it took his breath away. He took a moment to steady himself – he had a long swim ahead of him. He was a strong swimmer and made good progress for the first half mile or so, fuelled by his own adrenaline and something else, something old in his blood that made him need to rescue and protect the sub he was in love with. There was something, maybe in their most basic genetic coding though nobody had actually found the gene for it yet, that made most dominants protective of their submissives. That was why he, Sheppard, Gibbs, Carson and most other dominants Lorne knew hated it when they met an abusive top. He thought of Sergeant Bates, who had once tormented Rodney so unpleasantly, and how something about the sergeant had always felt 'off' to him. He'd subsequently found out just *why* Bates made him feel that way, and between them he and Sheppard had managed to pull the sergeant around - but that hadn't been without its challenges.
He was startled out of this train of thought by a shot ringing out and then something large, with a grey, leathery skin, splashed into the water beside him, causing him to sink momentarily. He came up, gasping for air, and pushed the corpse of the flying reptile out of the way. It was like a massive iguana with wings and it had a sharp beak in which resided equally sharp teeth. Lorne waved his arm back at the shore, where he could dimly see Rice standing with his gun. It was getting quite dark now as all the moons gradually disappeared; this made visibility poor, and also reminded him of how little time they had before the sun rose.
He tried to swim faster but his exhaustion, combined with the coldness of the water and the weight of his pack, were taking their toll. He could see land ahead but it was still a long way off. He hoped Abby was okay; the reptiles usually only attacked over open water and she was tied a little way inland. If she'd been on the shoreline he'd have been more worried as a stray reptile might have taken its chances with her there.
He wished she knew he was coming for her. Then it occurred to him that she was expecting Gibbs and he felt his breath tighten in his chest at that. He hoped she wouldn't make her disappointment too obvious.
Something loomed overhead, then fluttered and swooped at him, and he felt something sharp tearing into his shoulder.
"Fuck!" he screamed, beating off the reptile with his bare hands. The creature paused, and then came back at him again. Lorne heard gunfire from the shore but he was out of range now – he was on his own with this one. He went underwater to escape the reptile's next attack, and when he rose up he had his knife in his hand. The creature bombed towards him, beak open, sharp teeth gleaming.
Lorne struck its flank hard with his knife as it came in for the kill. The creature screamed loudly, and then dropped into the water like a lead weight, still screaming. It flapped around in the water and Lorne got caught in the undertow. He went under once, dragged down by the weight of his pack, surfaced, gasping for air, and then went under again. The creature was still screaming and writhing, thrashing about in the water making it hard for Lorne to keep above the surface. Lorne reached for it, got hold of the leathery wings and rammed his knife into its body again, hard. It didn't scream this time – it just went limp. Lorne thrust his bloodied knife back into his holster and swam on, as fast as his weary body would allow, not looking back.
Three reptiles circled overhead, calling to each other. He could see they were uncertain about striking after what had happened to the other two, but every so often one of them came close, and he was forced to stop and yell at them in the hope of keeping them at bay. He couldn't afford another confrontation; his shoulder was aching from where it had been ripped by the creature's beak – he couldn't tell what the damage was but it sure as hell hurt. He wasn't sure how much blood he'd lost in the water but he felt so tired now that it was all he could do to keep swimming. His arms and legs felt like lead, and each stroke was an effort.
Now the island was closer – tantalisingly close – but the moons had set, and he could see a faint glimmer of light on the horizon. He didn't have long…if he didn't get there soon then he and Abby would both die a particularly painful kind of death. He wondered how the others were getting on with their rescues – Ziva, Gibbs and Sheppard. There had been some radio traffic before he'd got into the water but mostly it had been sporadic and uninformative – everyone was too focussed on what they were doing.
He felt something under his feet and gave a startled yelp, before realising it was land. A glance at the sky told him he might just be in time if he ran. He half-swam, half-crawled his way out of the water. Long swim over, he wanted to stop and rest; his legs felt like they were made of solid concrete and he didn't think he could run anywhere. His chest quickly became streaked with blood from his shoulder wound now there was no water to wash it away. He ignored it, forcing himself up the beach towards where their readings told him Abby was chained. He hadn't brought his life-signs detector with him – he wasn't sure it would withstand the long swim – but he'd memorised the details of where she was. He paused only to open his pack and retrieve his gun from where it was wrapped inside one of the suits.
His legs gave way as something dive-bombed him, and he only managed to raise his gun at the last moment, and fire off a round into the reptile that had taken its chances with him before he got too far inland for it to feel confident about success. The creature screamed defiance at him, and rose up into the air once more, lurching, one wing hanging loose. Lorne battled on, through bush and scrub. He had to be close…he had to be…
He saw the trail, flattened by the jumper Jordan had used to bring her here, and now his legs were responding more quickly to the commands from his tired brain.
Then he saw her. She was wearing black combat pants and a black tee shirt with a skeleton motif on the front. Her arms and legs were tightly chained together and the chain had then been wrapped around the tree behind her, binding her tight. She looked up as she heard him crashing into the clearing.
"Gibbs!" she said, and even tired as he was he braced himself for seeing the light in her eyes fade when she realised it was him who had rescued her and not the top whose collar she wore, and who she worshipped.
"Sorry, Abs," he gasped, reaching her side, and pulling out his gun. "It's me." He unfastened the small bomb from her collar and threw it into the bushes. "Now cover your head," he ordered.
"Evan?" she said, surprise and disbelief evident in her tone. She obeyed him all the same, pulling her body forward as far as the chains would allow and putting her arms over her head, chains clanking as she did so.
He fired at the chains, over and over again until he had freed her, and then he pulled off the pack strapped to his back.
"No time to explain," he panted. "Just get this on – quickly!" He threw her the hazmat suit, and got his own out.
"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, coming over to examine his wounded, bloody shoulder.
"Get the suit on! Now!" he yelled, seeing the first rays of the sun start to hit the ground just yards from them, and coming closer with every second as the sun rose in the sky.
Her eyes widened but she did as she was told without question. Lorne was grateful she'd belonged to a top like Gibbs these past few years and was therefore trained to obey urgent orders without arguing. He pulled on his own suit with just seconds to spare as the sun finally hit their position. Then he just fell to the ground, completely and utterly exhausted.
He'd done it. She was safe. He'd saved her. She was his…or at least she would be if he could persuade her over-protective top that he was worthy of her - and if she wanted him. Did she want him? Or had she just been playing? Maybe he'd taken it a lot more seriously than she'd ever meant it. And maybe there had never been a chance for him – maybe her heart would always belong to Leroy Jethro Gibbs and never to him.
"Evan? Are you okay?" Abby crawled towards him and lay down beside him. She raised her hands and took hold of his helmeted head, gazing through the clear visor at him.
"Sorry I'm not Gibbs," he told her wearily.
"You came for me? You came to rescue me? You risked your life for me?" she said, sounding astonished. "Is it possible to kiss someone through these visors?"
"Nope." Evan grinned at her. "But you can kiss me later."
"I'll hold you to that," she said, curling up happily beside him. He put his arms around her, loving the feel of her body and the weight of her against him. The remains of the chains that had bound her clanked beneath her suit. "Promise me that nobody but you will ever tie me up anywhere, ever again," she said. He laughed out loud.
"That's a promise I'm happy to make."
“Is Gibbs okay?” she asked anxiously.
“He’s fine. I’ll explain it all to you when I get my breath back,” he replied, squeezing her against him.
"Look how pretty the sunrise is," she said, raising her head to look around the glade. "It's been so dark and I was so scared…but in the daylight this place is beautiful."
It was – the sun glowed a shade of deep pink, bathing everything around them in a violet glow.
"Pretty but deadly," he told her. "The radiation burns the skin off the body – that's why we had to get these suits on."
"Wow – you literally did get here in the nick of time," she said, cuddling into him more closely. "How *did* you get here?" she asked. "You were kind of wet when you arrived…and sort of half-naked."
"I ran 23 miles then swam two to get here," he told her.
"23 miles? God, Evan - that's almost a marathon," she said. "And then you still had the energy to swim all that way – and all for me?" Her eyes were shining behind the visor.
"Yes," he replied. "All for you, Abby.”
He longed to kiss her, and roll her beneath him and make love to her, but had to content himself with stroking the outside of her hazmat suit with his fingers.
"What's that?" Abby sat up, and Lorne propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, startled.
Somewhere, a long way off, something was screaming. The sound rose and fell in a long staccato wail.
"Might be one of those reptiles I shot – maybe one of them got caught on the surface of the water when the sun came up," he murmured uneasily.
Abby pressed back against him, holding him tight. "I thought this place was creepy during the night but I’m starting to think it’s even worse during the day," she whispered.
She was leaning on his wounded shoulder but he didn't say anything – he just pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms firmly around her.
"It's okay," he told her. "It's over. I'm here now and you'll always be safe with me."
"Safe. Yes." She smiled at him. "But not boring, right?" she queried anxiously, a moment later. He laughed out loud.
"No…not boring. I promise you I'll always make it exciting as long as you promise you'll always let me keep you safe."
"I promise," she grinned.
They lay there for a long time, not speaking, just holding each other, and then, a little while later, Lorne heard the low hum of the jumper coming towards him. It took all his strength to get to his feet and walk slowly over to it, holding Abby's gloved hand tightly in his.
"About time," he muttered to Conway, as they took their seats on the bunks inside. Conway grinned at him, and then at Abby.
"Well done, Colonel," he said. "Nice to see you safe and sound, Abby!"
"Go pick up Rice and then let's head for home," Lorne said wearily, putting his arm around Abby and closing his eyes. "And then I'm going to sleep for a week."
Conway's grin broadened. "You got it," he said.
Hansen piloted them over to where he'd left Rice, and they opened the hatch but there was no sign of the lieutenant.
"You sure this was where you left him?" Conway asked.
"Yeah…I'll go take a look," Lorne said, with a sigh. He felt too tired to move but there was no point in any of the others getting suited up. He stepped outside and walked along the shore. It looked so different in the daytime – Abby was right; it was pretty. The water, which had been an inky black in the night, was now shimmering in various shades of violet and purple as the sun warmed it, and the sandy beach shone a pretty shade of pinky yellow.
He saw a pile of what he recognised as his own possessions and went over to them. His clothes and radio were piled up where he'd left them but there was no sign of Rice. He stepped over some rocks, and then slipped in a pile of red goo. Something crunched underfoot.
"Oh shit." Lorne crouched down and examined the goo in more detail.
"Evan?" Abby came up behind him. "Is everything okay? Is Jamie here? Oh." She stared down at what he was standing in.
Lorne saw Rice's pack, untouched, a few yards away and picked it up. His heart sank as he opened it and pulled out the unworn hazmat suit. He saw the body of a reptile nearby, the leathery skin better able to withstand the sun's radiation than human flesh. There was a long gash in its side which looked as if it might have been caused by gunfire.
"Oh no. Jamie." Lorne shook his head. "The damn bird must have injured him during a dive-bomb and he didn't make it to his pack in time to get his suit on," he whispered.
"That sound we heard…" Abby's eyes were wide with horror.
"That was him burning to death in the sun," Lorne said. "Oh shit. I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry." He crouched down beside what remained of Rice's body, found the dog tags, and pocketed them. Then he and Abby scooped up the gloopy remains and shoved them into the spare hazmat suit to transport what was left of Jamie back to Atlantis.
"I'm so sorry, Evan," Abby said softly. "He was a nice kid, and he died helping you rescue me."
Lorne picked up Rice's pack and Abby picked up his own, and they walked slowly back to the jumper. All his earlier elation was gone; he'd succeeded - he'd saved Abby and he could never regret that - but he'd paid a high price.
He felt Abby's gloved hand slip inside his own, and she squeezed her fingers gently against his hand.
"I know what it's like," she told him. "We lost a member of our team once. Kate. She was my friend - I still miss her."
He nodded, squeezing her hand a little in return, and they got into the jumper together.
"Take us home, Hansen," he said softly, as the hatch closed behind them.
"But Rice…?" Conway began and then he saw the expression on Lorne's face. "Oh shit," he sighed.
Lorne sat back down as the jumper took off. Abby pulled his helmet off, and then began unfastening his suit.
"Your shoulder was injured," she said. "I want to take a look at it."
"Don't," he told her. "Just…come here. Please."
She took off her own suit, and then curled up in his lap like a cat, and he held her close and buried his face in her pigtails.
"It's okay," Abby whispered, and her fingers gently combed through his hair, stroking and soothing. "I've got you, Evan, and I'm never going to let you go."
He had thought it was all about him keeping her safe but it turned out it was the other way around. Her arms were strong, and she held him while he cried silently into her hair; hot, bitter tears of exhaustion and grief. "I've got you," she repeated. "I've got you. Ssh. It's okay. I'm here. That's it. Let it go, let it go, let it go."
~*~
End of Part Thirteen
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Hiding in Plain Sight: Part Fourteen