xanthefic | Fic: Two Masters

Sorry for the late arrival - not my fault! There's a broadband outage in my area that's still continuing. I'm only managing to get this up by nefarious means and have to hope it's resolved by the time of posting tomorrow. Thanks to

flyingnorth for putting up a message for me :-).

Two Masters
By Xanthe
Part Fourteen

Walter Skinner sat with one hand wrapped around a beer and the other wrapped around his slave’s shoulders at Murray’s Bar.

“Think they got held up?” Fox asked him, glancing at his watch. Skinner grinned at him.

“Oh yeah,” he said, with a wink. “How long’s it been? Two weeks since I fished Jethro out from under his boat, while you gave Tony that much needed kick up the ass? Two weeks into *our* relationship, I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

“Still can’t.” Fox glanced meaningfully at the hand on his shoulder. Skinner grinned again. He moved his hand and tousled his slave’s hair.

At that moment, there was movement at the top of the stairs, and the two men they had been waiting for appeared.

“Oh my God,” Fox breathed, gazing at them.

“Oh yeah. They *definitely* got held up,” Skinner snorted. He got to his feet and waved. “Over here, Jethro.”

Tony and Gibbs walked down the stairs together, side by side, their steps in perfect sync. Skinner couldn’t help smiling to himself; they walked like a couple who were having lots of great sex. There was something about how their hips almost touched with each stride, the loose set of their shoulders, and that indefinable glow on their faces.

“Wow – you look fantastic,” Fox commented when they got close.

They did. Gibbs was wearing a pair of classy black chinos and a vivid blue shirt that matched the colour of his eyes. Skinner had never known Gibbs to give a damn about his clothes, so he suspected the outfit was all Tony’s doing. Tony looked as well groomed as always, in fashionable blue jeans and a loose green shirt that was open at the neck.

“Thanks – I took his measurements while he slept and went out and bought him the clothes,” Tony told them as they all shook hands.

“Apparently my Sears sales items aren’t good enough for my sub,” Gibbs grunted.

“Hey – if I’m gonna be seen out with you in a place like this, I want people envying me my good taste in tops,” Tony grinned. “And you scrub up pretty well, Boss.”

Gibbs slapped the back of his head without missing a beat, and Tony’s grin widened. Skinner gave a little smile – he knew just how much those head-slaps meant to Tony.

“Actually, I wasn’t talking about the clothes,” Fox said.

“Fox is about as interested in clothes as you are, Jethro.” Skinner sighed. “He wouldn’t have noticed if you’d walked in here stark naked.”

“I might have noticed that.” Fox grinned. “And it makes no difference if I’m interested in clothes or not, seeing as how my master gets to dress me up in whatever the hell he likes.”

Skinner laughed. “Hey – take a seat,” he said, waving his hand at the empty chairs opposite. “What d’you want to drink?”

They placed their orders, and Skinner dispatched Fox to the bar to get the round of drinks. Gibbs sent Tony with him – and Skinner had no doubt that was an intentional move on his part.

“So, how are things going?” he asked Gibbs when they were alone. “Pretty well I’d say looking at the pair of you tonight. You guys even leave the house these past couple of weeks?” He raised an amused eyebrow.

“Still have a job to do, Walter,” Gibbs grunted.

“Yeah – you have two jobs now though. The day job at NCIS, and the other job keeping that sub of yours well fucked. ‘Cause trust me, that’s one well fucked sub.”

Gibbs gave him his death glare, but Skinner ignored it as usual. Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn’t scare him – although he knew that the man scared the rest of the world. That wasn’t such a bad thing. Walter Skinner knew exactly what Gibbs was capable of, and how right people were to be afraid of him. He wondered how Tony was handling a top as intense and frankly terrifying as Gibbs could be on a bad day. Then again, Tony had been handling Gibbs for eight years and had survived thus far. He was probably one of the few people in the world who *could* handle Gibbs.

Gibbs’s death glare turned into a tight little grin as he glanced over at his sub, who was standing at the bar chatting to Fox.

“Yeah,” Gibbs muttered at last. “Christ, Walter – it’s either a famine or a feast. Went a long time with nothing at all and now…” His grin widened, and he looked like the kid he’d been when Skinner first met him. “Now I feel like a teenager again.”

Skinner laughed. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re gonna start acting like you did back in boot camp all over again,” he said, with a wink. It was Gibbs’s turn to laugh now.

“Wouldn’t dare, Walter. There’s no way I ever want another taste of your belt.”

“So it’s good?” Skinner took a sip of his beer, gazing at Gibbs searchingly.

“Oh yeah. It’s good. *He’s* good,” Gibbs replied. “I always knew there was something there – some kind of attraction, chemistry, whatever the hell you wanna call it. But I had no idea we’d be this compatible.”

“I did,” Walter shrugged. Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “What? It was obvious, just looking at the pair of you, pining away for each other like damn idiots,” Skinner grinned. “Anyone could see that when you two finally got together the result was gonna be pretty explosive.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs chuckled. “Explosive is the right word for it.” He leaned across the table. “But it’s been so damn easy, Walter - once we finally stopped dancing around each other and got down to it. It’s been a pretty smooth ride. Knowing he was a newbie – hell not just to the submission thing but also to men – I thought he’d have more trouble with it.”

“And he hasn’t?”

“Not as far as I can see. He’s taken to it like a duck to water. I never knew Tony DiNozzo would be able to go from womanising frat boy to gay submissive without even blinking, but he has.”

“I think you need to give the boy more credit for knowing what he wants,” Skinner said, glancing over at the bar, where Tony and Fox were deep in their own conversation. He was glad about that. Tony didn’t have any submissive friends on the scene, and Skinner thought he needed some kind of mentor. Fox could be unpredictable and off the wall, but Skinner had no doubt that any advice he gave Tony would be both useful and sincere. “What he’s wanted for a very long time,” Skinner added.

“Was it like this with you and Fox?”

“Hell no! Most of the first year was a struggle if I’m honest,” Skinner admitted. “A fantastic struggle, and one I relished, but there were times when I’d have been tearing my hair out in despair if I had any.” He gave a self-deprecating grin. “But Fox is a very different personality to Tony – and you’re a very different personality to me, Jethro.”

“Just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Gibbs grunted. “Can’t be this easy forever.”

“You find out what it is he’s hiding?” Skinner asked.

Gibbs glanced up sharply. “Nope. Whatever it is he thinks it’s big, but whether it is or not – I have no idea because he never even gets close to letting me in.”

“That what’s bothering you?” Skinner asked.

Gibbs glared at him again, but Skinner knew how Gibbs used that glare to get people to back off when they asked anything too personal. He had no intention of backing off, so he just sat back with a raised eyebrow.

“Something’s bothering you, Jethro – and it isn’t how damn easy or how good it’s been since you claimed that boy.”

He studied Gibbs intently. His friend liked to keep himself all locked up, but Skinner had always been able to see beneath the surface. As a kid, Gibbs had always allowed the heat of his emotions to over-ride all good sense. He’d had to learn how to master his wild streak the hard way. Tony was a different kind of man entirely. He hid things like he’d been hiding them all his life. Maybe he had - Skinner hadn’t got an entirely good handle on the kid yet. But Gibbs had been one of his Marines – Gibbs was *family* - and Skinner knew him inside out.

“He never says his safe word,” Gibbs confided at last.

Skinner frowned. Gibbs looked up, straight at him. His blue eyes were usually steely, the forbidding expression in them designed to keep people out. But right now he had his guard down, and Skinner could see that he was genuinely concerned.

“Maybe you haven’t done anything that’s made him feel like he needs to say it.”

“Maybe.” Gibbs shrugged. “I can read him well. I know when he’s at the edge, and I’ve never given him more than I think he can handle – but…” He shook his head. “I think he’d take it if I did. I think I could shove him right off the edge and put him in freefall, and he’d take it without saying that word. Question is – why?”

“Because he doesn’t want a safe word?” Skinner suggested. “He wants to surrender to you, Jethro. He doesn’t want to know that he has any control over what you do to him. He wants the thrill. Hell, that’s not unusual. Lot of subs feel that way.”

“I guess,” Gibbs conceded, but his shoulders were hunched.

“You think it’s more than that?”

“I don’t know – because I can’t get under the surface. I get close sometimes, but then he slips away from me. That’s Tony – he’s always been kind of slippery.”

Skinner grunted. Gibbs was a direct kind of guy. He might be intensely private, and solitary to the point of paranoia, but he wasn’t a complicated man. His sub was though – Skinner had no doubt about that. Tony was all kinds of complicated.

“You can’t trust him then?”

Gibbs gave him a dour kind of look. “Hell yeah – I can trust him, Walter. I can trust him not to cheat on me, I can trust him to be a willing, obedient sub, and I can trust him to have my six in any given life or death situation. But can I trust him not to let me hurt him? No – I don’t think I can.”

“Because he *wants* to be hurt,” Skinner said softly.

“Yeah. Or at least he wants something I won’t give him. Something dark. Right now, we’re in the honeymoon period – but there’s a side of him that hasn’t gone away. It’s just in cold storage right now while I keep him distracted with other stuff.”

“Then you wait.” Skinner sat back in his chair. “You wait, Jethro. You wait for him to trust you enough to tell you what’s going on. That’s all you can do.”

“No – it isn’t.” Gibbs gazed at him intently.

“What d'you mean?”

“I have a dossier on him – haven’t opened it,” Gibbs said quickly as Skinner reacted to that statement. “Had it for a few years, and I’ve never been tempted to open it. I didn’t ask for it – I just came by it. I know there are some answers in there, but…”

“But you’re worried you’ll ruin any trust you’ve built up between you if you read it?”

“Yeah. I want him to tell me himself – I don’t want to find out about it from any damn file.”

“Then give him time,” Skinner advised. “It’s only been a few weeks, Jethro. Give him some more time.”

“And what if he lets me put him in a situation of real distress in the meantime, and all because I don’t know what’s going on with him?”

Skinner shook his head. “You’ll just have to watch him closely, Jethro – and trust that famous gut of yours.”

“Yeah. I guess that's all I can do.”

Gibbs leaned back in his chair. He glanced over towards the bar, and Skinner saw the look of naked vulnerability in his eyes. He doubted anyone else would have seen it but him. Gibbs’s gaze was fixed on his sub – and it told Skinner everything Gibbs would never say.

Skinner wondered if Tony knew. Probably not. Gibbs never liked telling anyone how he felt – Skinner was pretty sure that was why both Jenny and Stan had left him, to say nothing of his three wives.

Skinner suspected that the kid standing over there by the bar had absolutely no idea just how hopelessly in love with him his dom was.

~*~

"So – how's it going?" Fox asked, as they waited for their drinks.

Tony grinned at him. "Oh it's good. Very good." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah – I can see that. You look like a different person. Being submissive makes you happy, huh?"

Tony considered that for a moment. If anyone else had asked it, he thought it would have made his hackles rise, but this was Fox he was talking to – a man who called his lover "Master". And a man, also, who was about as independent-spirited as anyone he'd ever met. Nobody would ever call Fox Mulder weak or needy – his need for sexual submission clearly didn't diminish the strength of his personality.

"Yes, it does," he replied honestly. "But then again, submitting to Gibbs is easy. I've been doing it since I met him. The sex part just makes it fun. I already know how to be his sub – I've been that for years in a way."

"You struggling with any of it?" Fox pulled on that full lower lip of his.

Tony shook his head. "Nope. I'm not saying it's always easy, but you warned me about that."

"Which bits aren't easy?"

Tony sighed. This was typical Fox – always wanting to know the things that Tony didn't necessarily want to tell him.

"Taking punishment." Tony winced inwardly as he remembered the spanking he'd received a couple of weeks previously in the interrogation room. Man, that one had hurt. He hadn't sat comfortably for days. Luckily for him, Gibbs had gone easy on him for a few days afterwards, so he'd had time to recover.

"Really?" Fox continued tugging thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Wouldn't have thought punishment would be a problem for you, Tony. Thought it was what you wanted."

Tony was saved from having to come up with a suitably deflective answer to that question by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He gave Fox an apologetic smile and fished his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID – he didn't know the number, but he would prefer to talk to just about anyone in the world except Fox Mulder right now, so he answered the call.

"DiNozzo."

"Hey, motherfucker."

Tony's stomach did a flip as he heard the old, familiar voice. The irony wasn't wasted on him though. Chief Petty Officer Dale Grasso was the one person in the world he wanted to talk to even less than he wanted to talk to Fox Mulder.

"I think you have the wrong number," he said smoothly. He made a face at Fox and pointed to the phone, rolling his eyes.

"You didn't answer any of my emails, motherfucker, so I thought I'd call. Took me some time to track down your cell phone number...but it's worth it to hear your whiny-assed voice again."

"Well, I can't help you. You're speaking to the wrong person."

"I’ll be back in three weeks, DiNozzo."

"Sorry I don't know who that is."

"You ran out on me. That pissed me off. I liked our little arrangement. I'm comin' to get you, DiNozzo.”

"I don't fucking think so," Tony said, more forcefully than he'd intended. He saw Fox raise an eyebrow and turned away to try and get some privacy.

"I don't give up so easy. You and me – we have some unfinished business to take care of."

Tony felt himself grow cold inside. "Yeah, well, good luck finding someone who can help you. You sure as hell need it. *Motherfucker*."

He snapped the phone shut and turned back with his bright, shiny smile plastered into place.

"Wrong number," he said cheerfully.

Fox laughed out loud. "Yeah. Right. Sounded more like a wake-up call to me, Tony."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Fox shrugged. "Voice from the past maybe?"

"No. Like I said – wrong number," Tony replied firmly.

"And does Gibbs know about this wrong number of yours?" Fox's hazel eyes were glowing intently. He had this really irritating habit of being able to get under Tony's skin, and he never failed to pick up on all the things that everyone else missed.

Tony changed tack, turning deadly serious. "No – and he doesn't need to. This is nothing to do with him."

Fox shrugged. "Sure. Right." He leaned in. "Gibbs is your *master*, Tony.”

“I don’t call him that…” Tony began.

Fox laughed. “You might not use the word, but that’s what he damn well is, Tony. And if I kept a call like that a secret from Walter, he'd string me up by the balls and whip my ass until I hollered for mercy."

"You've been with Walter for ten years – it's different," Tony snapped.

"No – it really isn't. If this had happened to me on day two of my slavery, then Walter would have reacted the exact same way."

"I can handle this by myself. It's my mess – I'll figure it out. Nothing for you to get involved with," Tony told him, in a low, urgent tone. "Nothing for you to tell Gibbs about, either – understand?"

Fox gave him a hard stare. "Tony – there's no question of me telling Gibbs shit. You're the one who should do that. Give the guy some respect. You're in his life, and he's in yours. That means you have to damn well make room for him."

"Like I said – this is nothing. I can handle it. It's just a little…" Tony hesitated. "Local difficulty."

"Were you seeing someone before Gibbs, Tony?" Fox asked. "Is that who that guy is?"

"No." Tony shook his head. "There was nobody before Gibbs. There has never been any guy except Gibbs. Ever."

Fox nodded thoughtfully. "I believe you. But then who is that guy – and why is he hassling you?"

Tony wondered how much of the conversation Fox had overhead. "He's nothing. Seriously."

Fox sighed. "Look, Tony, I've been where you are right now, and it didn't end well." His hand went unconsciously to his chest as he said that, and Tony saw him fingering the outline of his scar through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I nearly fucked things up for good between me and Walter because I didn't trust him. Took me a long time to earn back his trust after that – because he HAD trusted me, poor damn idiot." Fox glanced over to the table in the corner, where their Walter and Gibbs were engaged in an intense-looking conversation.

"You don't know Gibbs," Tony said. "I could tell him about this guy, but if I do, it doesn't end there. It leads on to a whole lot of other questions – questions I don't want to answer. And Gibbs isn't someone who lets things lie. So if I don't answer them, he'll find out another way."

"Right." Fox nodded. "So this is the tip of the iceberg, huh? If Gibbs knows about this stalker person you've somehow acquired, then it opens up a whole can of worms for you, does it?"

"Yes." Tony nodded. "It does. And it's not a can I want opened any time soon." Or ever.

"Interesting." Fox gazed at him musingly. Then he sighed. "Okay, Tony. You play this your way. Let me just say this: You're wrong. No matter what it is that you're hiding, Gibbs *will* find out, one day. If you're lucky, he'll hang on in there and stick with you while you both figure it out – but you can bet it won't be pretty, and you'll pay for lying to him."

"And if I'm not lucky?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Then Gibbs will throw your sorry ass out onto the street and have nothing to do with you ever again," Fox said with a shrug. "And I think that's pretty much your worst nightmare, Tony. Rejection, abandonment - they press all your buttons, don't they? You'd rather he kicked you like a dog but kept you tied up at his side than that he threw you out. So think about it."

He leaned forward and patted Tony's arm. "C'mon – time to take these drinks back to the table. Our masters will be thirsty, and we don't want to piss them off, do we?"

~*~

Gibbs was surprised by how much he enjoyed spending an evening out with his sub. He wasn't usually a very sociable man. He'd spent the past few years working all hours, and any down time he got to himself he spent on his boat. He occasionally went to a bar for the sole purpose of getting drunk, but he didn't use it as an opportunity to talk to people. He was used to his own company. Tony was different though. Tony *was* a sociable person, and Gibbs knew they had to strike a balance between evenings spent working on the boat and evenings spent going out with friends. The evenings spent having sex were a given.

Tony could make any social situation go with a swing, and Gibbs enjoyed taking a back seat and watching his sub shine with a series of amusing and frankly implausible stories. Fox was a good match for Tony in the implausible stories stakes, and Gibbs and Walter were soon laughing heartily at tales of spring breaks gone wrong, and alien bounty hunters who turned up in the most unlikely of places. Gibbs was never sure how to take Fox, but when Walter's unusual sub relaxed he could be almost as much fun as Tony.

They were having such a good time in the bar that Gibbs didn't hear his cell phone ringing just before midnight. He did feel the vibration though. He reached into his pocket and glanced at the caller display, wondering who was calling him this late on a Saturday evening. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the name: Abby.

He flipped open the phone, his body tensing in anticipation of some kind of trouble. Tony sensed the change in his body language immediately and stopped talking in mid-sentence, turning towards him with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Abs…" Gibbs answered the call, but he didn't get any further than that as a torrent of words assaulted him. Abby's voice was high and frightened, and he could only make out every third or fourth word.

"…came back…been here…apartment…Gibbs, oh Gibbs!...shit…oh God, what did I tread in…?" He heard the sound of crunching glass.

"Abby!" he bellowed into the phone. There was a startled silence.

"Sorry, Gibbs. I just…" She sounded close to tears.

"Where are you?"

"At my place, like I said. I just got in…"

"Stay there. We'll be there in ten," Gibbs told her firmly. He snapped the phone shut and got to his feet. "We have to go," he told a startled Walter and Fox, and then he was off, running towards the staircase. He didn't even have to look around to know that Tony was behind him, matching him stride for stride.

Gibbs ran up the stairs and out into the parking lot without pausing. Tony jumped into the car beside him, and Gibbs drove them towards Abby's place at a breakneck pace. For once, Tony didn't comment on his driving – he just clung onto the passenger side of the car. Gibbs hadn't consumed anything stronger than coke all evening, but he knew he was driving as if he'd downed a dozen whiskies.

"What did Abby say?" Tony asked as Gibbs tore along the highway. "What's happening? Is she okay, Boss?"

He sounded worried. Gibbs knew that Tony felt the same way about Abby as he did. She meant more to them than any other member of the team, even Ducky. Abby was, quite simply, special, and they both loved her fiercely.

"She's upset. I couldn't figure out what was going on, but it didn't sound good. I don't think she's in any harm, but…" Gibbs slammed his foot down even harder on the accelerator, and the rest of that sentence remained hanging between them.

He pulled up outside Abby's apartment with a screech of brakes, and he and Tony were both out of the car the second he turned off the engine. They ran into the apartment complex and up the two flights of stairs to Abby's apartment…and then paused. Her apartment door was hanging half off its hinges. Gibbs put up his hand, and he and Tony both drew their guns at the same time.

"Abby – you there?" Gibbs called, pushing open the ruined door cautiously with his foot.

"Gibbs!" A second later a blur of black and red jumped into his arms, and he held Abby close, relieved beyond belief that she was alive and well. He hugged her for a few seconds, glancing at Tony over her bushy black hair, which was free of its normal pigtails.

Tony located the light switch and turned it on – and Gibbs winced. Abby's apartment had been trashed. Her TV set had been smashed to smithereens and there was glass all over the floor. The sofa was upturned, and the contents of her fridge seemed to have been strewn everywhere.

"Abby – what the hell happened here?" Gibbs asked, holding her at arm's length so that he could look into her mascara-stained eyes.

"I was so scared, Gibbs," she whispered. "I just got back – I was at a party, and I'd had a really good time…I met this really nice guy and…anyway…" She pulled herself together as she caught the expression in his eyes. "It was just a normal Saturday night out. I came home – alone," she said firmly. "And I walked in to find this." She gestured around the room with her hand. "I was scared that whoever did it was still here! I turned off the light and hid behind the door and called you straight away."

"Burglary?" Tony asked, looking around the place.

"Tony!" Abby seemed to see him for the first time. She launched herself into his arms, and he held her as tight as Gibbs had, kissing her hair gently as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Uh, Gibbs thought he might need back up so he brought me along," Tony said. It sounded lame to Gibbs, but Abby was clearly too distraught to think anything of it.

Gibbs took the opportunity to look around the place himself. His gun still drawn, he kicked open each door cautiously. All the rooms were trashed, but the place was at least empty. He holstered his gun and returned to the living room.

"It's okay, Abby – there's nobody here," he told her softly. "Might have been better if you'd run back out into the street than stayed in here though if you were scared whoever did this might still be here."

"But you told me to stay here! And I was too scared to move anyway," she admitted, her entire body shaking. She disengaged herself from Tony and turned back to him. "And I knew you were on your way, Gibbs, and that everything would be okay when you got here."

Gibbs thought it was lucky they'd been at the bar – if he'd come from his house it would have taken an extra fifteen or so minutes to get here, and he didn't like to think of Abby crouching behind the door in terror for that length of time.

"Boss!" Tony called from the direction of the bedroom. "I’ve found something."

Gibbs took hold of Abby's hand and walked her into the bedroom with him. Her famous coffin bed was standing on a plinth in the centre of the room, same as always, but Gibbs didn't like the expression on Tony's face as he looked into the coffin.

"In here, Boss." Tony gestured with his head at the interior of the coffin.

Gibbs walked over to the coffin, still holding Abby's hand, and he heard her breathing hitch as she looked inside.

There was a skeleton in the coffin – Gibbs recognised it immediately as the piece of "art" that Abby usually kept hanging from the bookcase in her living room. It had been dressed, ghoulishly, in one of her black tee shirts and a plaid skirt. Its bony legs had been placed inside a pair of Abby's big, black, leather boots. There was even a spiky collar fastened loosely around its neck.

There was a piece of paper lying on the skeleton's tee shirt – right above where a real life person's heart would be. The paper was held in place by the sharp point of a kitchen knife which was embedded in the coffin-shaped mattress. On it was some writing:

Next time, the dead body lying in a coffin will be yours, Abigail Sciuto

~*~

Within half an hour, Abby’s apartment was full of people. She clung onto Gibbs’s hand as he walked from room to room, directing his agents to take photos and sweep the room for prints and any kind of evidence. Abby might have been a forensics expert, but she wasn’t a crime scene expert, so she allowed Gibbs, McGee, Ziva and Tony to do their jobs. The one thing she couldn't do was let go of Gibbs's hand. Not yet. And he didn't seem to mind. His fingers were warm and firm wrapped around hers, and she knew he'd let her hold on for as long as she needed.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called his second in command over. “You’re in charge of the crime scene. We’re gonna take this first box of evidence back to NCIS and start working on it.” He gestured to the box of evidence sitting on the table, which included the note that had been in the coffin.

“Right, Boss.”

“We’re going to NCIS now? In the middle of the night?” Abby asked.

Gibbs turned to glance at her. “Someone has made a death threat against you, Abs. No telling what might have happened if you’d stayed home tonight instead of going to that party. Sooner we start analysing the evidence, sooner we can figure out who is trying to get you.”

She nodded, her eyes big and scared, glad of his solid, reassuring presence beside her.

“It’s okay, Abby,” Gibbs told her gently, squeezing her hand. “Nobody is going to get near you. You know that, don’t you? Me or Tony – or both of us - will be with you at all times.”

“Yes, Gibbs.” She nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

“Good – then let’s get moving.”

He strode towards the door, and she scurried along beside him, still clutching his hand like a frightened child.

“DiNozzo – when you’re done here, call for clean up and get your ass back to NCIS with the rest of the evidence,” Gibbs snapped.

Tony nodded – Abby gave him a scared smile, and he gave her his big, bright Tony grin in return, and then made a thumbs up sign in a clear attempt to reassure her. It worked.

“Oh – Tony – if you find any…uh, stuff, you know, private stuff…just um…well, don’t look at it,” she told him. His grin broadened into something more suggestive.

“What kind of stuff, Abs?”

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, in a warning tone. Tony’s smile vanished instantly.

“On it, Boss!”

Abby felt a little better after that exchange.

~*~

It was nearly 4 a.m. by the time Tony returned to NCIS with the last of the evidence. He had sent Ziva and McGee home – no point them all staying up. He found Abby in her lab. She looked terrible; her face was even paler than usual, and her mascara had run down her cheeks. Her hair was a sticky mess from where she'd been running her tear-stained fingers through it all evening.

“Hey – how you doing?” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She smiled at him.

“I’m fine, Tony. But look at you! I didn’t notice earlier, but you’re all dressed up. Sorry if I spoiled your evening.”

“Nah.” Tony shrugged. “It’s fine. Just…you know, out for a few beers with some friends.”

“I think the bossman might have been on a date when I called,” she whispered, glancing furtively at where Gibbs was sitting at her work station behind the glass dividing doors, flicking through some of the evidence in the box they’d brought back earlier.

“What makes you say that?” Tony put his head on one side and surveyed their boss with mock-curiosity.

“Because he’s just as dressed up as you, Tony! And Gibbs never dresses up like that. Whoever she is, she’s got really good taste in clothes too – because there is no way the bossman bought that shirt himself.”

Tony couldn’t help laughing out loud at that. “You could be right, Abs.”

“Dare you to ask him about it,” Abby said, her face brightening.

“You’re on!” he said, a grin creasing his face at the hint of mischief. He figured he could handle the head-slap – or worse – that would come his way if it got her smiling again; and he so desperately wanted her smiling again.

Gibbs glanced up at that moment and saw him through the glass dividing door. He flipped whatever he was looking at back into the box and stepped into the main area of the lab.

“What did you find, DiNozzo?”

“Nothing really, Boss. We swept for prints, like you said, but I’m betting the ones we found will turn out to belong to Abby or her friends.”

Gibbs looked pretty grumpy as he peered into the boxes Tony had brought with him.

“I called for clean up like you said, Boss. So it should be nice and shiny and ready for you when you go home again, Abby.”

Abby gazed at him with those luminous eyes, and he winced. That had been the wrong thing to say. Of course she was scared of going home again after what had just happened!

“Uh – so, Boss…were you on a hot date?” Tony grinned, nodding at Gibbs’s blue shirt. Gibbs turned slowly towards him, one eyebrow raised, his face set in its death glare expression. “Uh…because…usually you don’t dress like that – not that there’s anything wrong with the way you usually dress – y’know, all those Sears sale items are just fine for work – but you don’t usually…” Gibbs’s death glare deepened. Tony trailed off and pointed his finger sideways at Abby. “She made me ask, Boss! It was a dare!”

“Tony!” Abby bashed his arm with her fist, and he winced theatrically. Then her eyes sparkled again as she looked at Gibbs. “*Were* you on a hot date, Bossman?”

“Yes, as you’re so interested, I was,” Gibbs replied, glancing at Tony with a deadpan expression. Tony grinned at him. Gibbs reached out and slapped the back of his head soundly. “And that’s for being unable to resist a dare, DiNozzo.”

“Yes, Boss. Thank you, Boss. Won’t happen again, Boss.”

Tony gave Abby a delighted grin, and they exchanged a surreptitious high five behind Gibbs’s back. Tony was relieved to see that she was starting to look more like the old Abby again.

“Okay – so we need to figure out who would want to make a death threat against you, Abby,” Gibbs said.

“It could be McElroy,” Tony replied, clicking his fingers in the air. “Aren’t you due to start giving evidence against him in court next week, Abby?”

She nodded. “Yes – on Monday.”

“We already know that McElroy’s a bastard, Boss. He’s been up on charges at least half a dozen times before, and he always gets off. Nobody’s been able to pin anything on him, but it’s rumoured he’s intimidated a few jury members – and even a couple of expert witnesses. And Abby’s evidence is particularly incriminating. He could be trying to scare her off testifying.”

“Sounds plausible, but nothing a judge will sign off on without more evidence. Did you come up with any prints on the note or knife?” Gibbs asked Abby.

She shook her head. “Nothing, Gibbs.”

“Okay.” Gibbs looked at them both. “I think we’re done here for tonight. It’s late, and you look wiped, Abby. We'll figure it out – but for now, we could all use some rest so let's go home.”

Abby’s eyes were wide and scared as she looked at Gibbs. “Go home…?”

“Not your place, Abs. No way I'm letting you go back there until this is resolved.” Gibbs shook his head firmly. “No – you’re coming home with me. You’ll be staying at my house under close protection detail until we figure out what the hell's going on here.”

She threw herself at him and hugged him tight. “I was hoping you’d say that, Gibbs! I’m so scared!”

“I know, Abs – but we won’t let anything happen to you,” Gibbs told her, glancing at Tony over her shoulder.

“Okay then, should I go…?” Tony pointed uncertainly at the door. He didn’t want to go back to his own apartment, but he wasn’t sure what Gibbs had in mind. Having Abby stay with them would cramp their style, but Tony didn’t care about that if it kept her safe.

“You’re coming with us, DiNozzo,” Gibbs told him firmly, much to Tony’s relief. He raised an eyebrow at Gibbs who was still being consumed in an Abby bear hug. “I want to keep Abby safe around the clock, and two of us will be better than one while we still don’t know what we’re facing.”

“Where will we all sleep?” Abby asked, finally releasing Gibbs and glancing at Tony. “Just – there are only two bedrooms in your house, Gibbs – well, there *are* three, but one of them hasn’t got a bed in it – just planks of wood and stuff.” She grinned at him.

“We’ll figure something out.” Gibbs shrugged. “You can have the spare room, Abby.”

She gave a happy smile, and Tony’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He exchanged a glance with Gibbs and knew exactly what his dom was thinking. Abby was special to them – and neither of them wanted to think about what might have happened if she’d been at home this evening when whoever was gunning for her had dropped by.

~*~

Abby groaned and stretched – and was surprised when she didn't feel the hard, wooden edge of her coffin. She came to with a start as the events of the previous evening came rushing back to her. She was at Gibbs's house, in Gibbs's spare room. She had crawled into bed at around 5 a.m. in her panties and tee shirt; she didn't have a change of clothes – she didn't even have a toothbrush - but she'd been so tired and wrung out that she didn't care. She'd fallen asleep immediately. Now it must be nearly noon judging by the sunlight flooding in around the drapes.

She got up and went to the bathroom, sighing when she saw her reflection in the mirror. God, she looked like crap! She washed her face and wiped toothpaste around her mouth which was the best she could manage without a toothbrush. It helped a little.

She wasn't sure what to do next, but then she smelled coffee, so she followed her nose down the stairs and into the kitchen. She found Tony standing there, in a bathrobe, pouring two mugs of coffee.

"Ah – just in time, M'lady," he told her, with a mock bow in her direction. "Consider me your personal butler for the day." He handed her a cup of coffee, and she took a sip with a happy sigh.

"Oh man, that's good. Thanks, Tony. Where's the bossman?" She glanced around as if she expected Gibbs to materialise from one of the kitchen cupboards.

"He went back to the office a couple of hours ago."

"Really? Already? Feels like we just came from there."

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know Gibbs. He thinks anything more than four hours sleep is for pansies – or, you know, officers." He grinned at her. "Besides, his favourite is in trouble – and there's no way Gibbs can sleep easy knowing someone out there is trying to hurt you, Abs."

She chewed on her lip, not wanting to think about that. "I'm sorry, Tony," she sighed.

"For what?" He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his own coffee.

"For ruining your night and making you sleep on Gibbs's couch last night." She glanced through the open kitchen door into the living room next door. The couch was old and worn but kind of comfy-looking all the same. "He did give you pillows and blankets and stuff, didn't he?" she asked anxiously, seeing no evidence of them on the couch.

"Relax. It was fine."

He kissed her cheek and then led her into the living room. He sat down on the couch, and she sat down beside him. She nestled against him for warmth, wishing she had a bathrobe or something to wrap around her. The house was chilly, and she knew from experience that Gibbs didn't seem to believe in central heating. Luckily, Tony was one of those men who radiated body heat, so she snuggled up to him like he was her own personal furnace.

"Hey – did Gibbs lend you his bathrobe?" she asked, tugging on Tony's sleeve. "Or wait – did you steal it after he left? Does he *know* you're wearing his bathrobe? Hmmm." That led her immediately onto another thought. "I'm surprised Gibbs even OWNS a bathrobe. Somehow I can't see him wearing one – and definitely not a fancy one like that."

"You think he lives in old wood-working sweats or grungy work stuff?" Tony grinned.

"Well, he's Gibbs – so yes!" She settled down beside him again, and he raised his arm so she could tuck herself under it.

"While we're on the subject of appropriate clothing – Gibbs better not come back and see us like this." Tony nodded at her scantily clad form. Abby laughed. "Hey – it's okay for you!" Tony protested. "It's me he'll cut up into pieces so small that not even Ducky will be able to stick them back together again."

Abby giggled again, and then her good mood faded as she remembered why she was here. Last night had been so horrible, and she couldn't shake the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Gibbs thinks of you like a daughter, Abs." Tony squeezed her gently. "That's why, whoever this guy is, he won't get close to you. Gibbs won't let it happen."

"He couldn't save Kelly…" Abby began. Tony squeezed her again.

"Which is precisely why he won't let it happen again. He knows he won't survive it happening twice. You're too important to him. And to me."

She glanced up at him and saw the sincerity radiating from his eyes. Tony was frequently nosy, often annoying, and usually hid his true self behind a variety of idiotic pranks and jokes. However, Abby knew very well that the man inside cared deeply about the people in his life and would do anything for them. She had never been fooled by the mask he wore, as she knew so many other people were. Even Ziva and McGee often failed to see the big heart he tried – and succeeded – in hiding. She sometimes wanted to slap them and remind them that Tony's deeds always spoke louder than his words.

He might tease them mercilessly and drive them to distraction with his antics, but it was Tony who had been there for McGee when he'd shot an off-duty police officer. It was Tony who had stepped up to take the brunt of a bomb blast for McGee and Kate the very day he'd returned from work after his bout with the plague. It was Tony who had taken a beating during an undercover op with Ziva and still come up with a plan to save her life – knowing it probably meant sacrificing his own in the process. Abby sometimes wondered how Ziva and McGee managed to forget all these things. Working with Tony could be annoying, but at least it was never dull – and he would always have your six.

She smiled at him and then noticed that his bathrobe had fallen open to the waist, revealing a leather thong hanging around his neck. There was a little key dangling on the end of it.

"Hey – what's this?" She fingered it gently. "You don't usually wear any jewellery, Tony."

"Not exactly jewellery, Abs," he said, flushing slightly. Realisation kicked in, and she grinned.

"It's from her, isn't it? The hot mystery top who has you totally under her thumb! What does the key open?" she asked curiously. He flushed a much deeper shade of red.

"My heart," he told her smoothly, capturing her hand in his and removing it from the key hanging around his neck.

"It's the key to your heart? Oh man! That is so romantic! You're totally in love with this chick, aren't you?"

She gazed at him thoughtfully. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him in love – not really. She knew he'd fallen for Jeanne, but as he'd been undercover at the time she'd never been entirely convinced that was really love. It had always seemed more of a fantasy kind of love to her - a 'what might have been if I was someone else' kind of deal for Tony. Tony had commitment issues up to his eyeballs – so she was intrigued as to what kind of woman had succeeded where so many others failed.

"Yeah, I am," he admitted. "Don't tell anyone though, Abs. It'll ruin my reputation as a player."

She snorted. "Yeah. Right. But…Tony - is she good enough for you, this chick? Does she *get* you?" She suddenly felt anxious. This was the first time he'd ever been in love like this – she couldn't bear the thought of him genuinely giving his heart to someone and then being hurt. It was too horrible to contemplate. Tony seemed to sense her anxiety.

"It's okay, Abs. She totally gets me. Nobody else ever got me like this." He smiled down at her, and he seemed so relaxed about it, and so totally convinced, that she felt reassured.

"Good. She must hate me for dragging you away from her last night." She made a face.

"Oh, she understands. Like I said – she gets me – and I get her – so she totally understands. Now – d'you want breakfast? Gibbs muttered something about bagels before he left. They look about three days old, but they're probably okay."

"Or we could go out and grab something," Abby suggested.

Tony shook his head. "No, Abs. The house is secure, but you're not going out anywhere without two agents at all times. You're on close protection detail, remember."

She sat up suddenly, her earlier queasiness returning. She leaned over and patted his bathrobe pocket – on the opposite side to where she was sitting. His eyes flickered.

"I take it that's your gun, and not, you know, that you're really pleased to see me," she sighed.

He gave her a tight little smile. "Go take a shower, Abby. Then let's both get dressed and eat something before Gibbs comes back, finds us still lounging around like this, and slaps me stupid."

She laughed. "Hey – does Gibbs know he has to ask your new top's permission before whacking you around from now on?"

Tony gave a little snort. "Yeah, right, like Gibbs would give a damn about that. Now go!"

She ran off up the stairs, still giggling to herself.

~*~

Gibbs returned home to find Abby and Tony sitting at the kitchen table, up and dressed. Tony had a large pad of paper in front of him and was busy writing on it.

"Gibbs!" Abby threw herself at him and enveloped him in her usual bear hug. "Tony was just making me go through a list of anyone who might want to hurt me."

"Not a very long list." Gibbs glanced at it over Tony's shoulder. "Or maybe you only just scuttled to it the minute I walked through the door?"

They both gave him seraphic smiles, which only served to convince him that he was right.

"Be honest about the list, Abby." Gibbs gestured with his head at it.

"Gibbs! Of course I'll be honest!" Abby protested. "I always am!"

He raised an eyebrow. "No, you're not," he said meaningfully. "Michael?" he reminded her. "Any more deadbeat boyfriends out there that we should know about?"

He saw the deadly serious look on Tony's face - they'd both been disappointed in her failure to confide in them over the whole Michael fiasco. Abby had the grace to look chagrined.

"No, Gibbs. I haven't dated anyone in a while. Hard to trust guys again after that whole thing with Michael."

"Any luck at your end, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Nope." Gibbs shook his head. "McElroy's trial started last week, and Legal won’t let me bring him in for questioning without more evidence. We have no clear link between him and what happened at Abby's apartment last night. We'll keep working it though. Tony – I want you to be Abby's personal bodyguard throughout the court case – you can have access to a rota of agents – I want two NCIS agents with her at all times, and I want *you* to always be one of them."

"Yes, Boss."

"I'll keep McGee and Ziva working on the death threat with me back at NCIS. You keep me informed of *anything* that happens. Now – are you ready, Abby?"

"For what?" she frowned.

"I figure you'll need to go get some stuff from your place – unless you want to give evidence in court tomorrow looking like that?" He surveyed her black leather pants, skeleton tee shirt, and multiple black studded necklaces and belts with a raised eyebrow.

She grinned. "I take your point, Bossman!"

~*~

They exited the house in unison, Tony and Gibbs shrouding her from the sight of anyone who might be watching. Abby shivered: this was *serious*.

Tony unlocked the car and got into the driver's seat. Abby started to get in beside him, but Gibbs pulled her arm and gestured her into the back.

"Person being protected always rides in the back, Abby," he told her as she got in.

"Why?" she asked blankly.

"Harder for someone to take a shot through the car windows," Tony explained, gesturing with his hand. She could see his point. If she was sitting next to him in the passenger seat, then someone could target her from head on. She presented a much harder target sitting in the back.

She shivered again as Gibbs got in beside her. She was already scared but felt even more freaked out by how seriously the two men in her life were taking it. Gibbs was like a second father to her, and Tony was like the annoying big brother she'd never had.

She mulled over the conversation about Michael. Much as she loved Gibbs and Tony, she could never date either of them. They were dangerous men – much more dangerous in their own way than Michael had ever been – and while she loved them both dearly, she suspected they'd make lousy boyfriends. Tony's commitment issues and roving eye, and Gibbs's shattered heart and inability to let people in, meant they both came with too much baggage. She hoped there was someone out there for them though. Tony certainly seemed to think he'd found the right person, and Gibbs had admitted he'd been on a hot date last night so maybe there was someone for him too.

They drew up outside her apartment complex, and Gibbs inspected the perimeter before allowing her out. They started walking inside – but Abby noticed Tony wasn't with them. She glanced back.

"He's staying in the car, Abs. Someone always has to stay with the car – if it's left alone at any point, then someone could get in and plant a bomb," Gibbs told her.

"A bomb?" She tried to process that. "You really think someone would do that? I mean, I thought this was someone just trying to scare me..."

He silenced her with a look of pure ice. "Abby, someone dressed up that skeleton in your clothes, put it in the coffin, stuck a kitchen knife through the ribs, and left a note on it, saying you'd be next," he growled. "You think there's any way I'm not gonna take that seriously?"

When he put it like that…Abby felt herself shaking again. Gibbs put an arm around her, but she noticed that he kept his hand resting on his gun butt as they walked up the stairs.

Her apartment looked dazzling. "Wow – I should hire those guys as a maid service," she joked. "My place never usually looks this clean. How did you get them to come out so soon anyway? Usually it takes a few days."

"DiNozzo's doing." Gibbs shrugged. "He can be pretty hard-assed when he tries."

"Oh yeah. I know." She'd seen several people under-estimate him - and live to regret it. Tony's goofy exterior often fooled people into thinking he was an idiot – and they got the shock of their lives when he suddenly turned deadly serious.

She gathered up some clothes and toiletries, stuffed them into a bag, took a sad look around, and then turned and left with Gibbs by her side.

When they got back to Gibbs's house, she took her bag upstairs and unpacked in the spare room. She opened the closet and found that it was already nearly full to bursting with clothes – mainly an array of exquisitely tailored suits.

"Wow, Bossman – if you've got all this nice stuff, how come you never wear it?" she whistled, fingering the sleeve of one particularly beautiful suit.

She hung up her court suit with a grimace – God she hated that thing! She threw her court shoes down into the bottom of the closet - where they hit something. She crouched down and saw that it was a large, hand-carved, wooden chest. She ran her hand over it – it was beautiful work. She knew immediately that Gibbs had made it – it had his hallmark of practicality combined with elegant simplicity. She wondered what was in it. She knew she shouldn't look but her natural curiosity got the better of her, so she tried to lift the lid – only to find that it was locked.

"Hmm, hinkey," she muttered to herself. "A closet full of smart suits he never wears and a locked chest. What does it all mean, Bossman?"

She spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening going through a list of people who might want to kill her. Gibbs had brought back a box full of her old case files, and they went through each one, case by case.

Gibbs was as relentless and thorough as ever and as the evening wore on her head started to ache. It was such a depressing way to spend a day. She thought it was entirely possible that Gibbs would make her stay up all night, until they'd been through every single case file in exhausting detail.

Abby felt herself going quiet. She was anxious about having to give evidence in court the next day. She hated court enough as it was, and now there was another layer of pressure on her. She didn't want to walk into that courtroom and sit opposite the man who was probably trying to kill her. She gazed into space as Gibbs took yet another file from the box.

"Abby!" he rapped out, and she came to, realising he'd asked her something.

"Uh?" She looked at him blankly, and he made an impatient gesture with his hand.

"Concentrate, Abby! I asked if…"

"You know," Tony interrupted smoothly. "I think we're done for the night. How about I call for take out, and we watch a movie?"

"We're not done. I'll say when we're done," Gibbs growled.

Tony turned to gaze at him thoughtfully. Then he gestured with his head towards the living room. "Can I have a word, Jethro?"

Abby was startled; she didn't think she'd ever heard Tony call their boss that before. It seemed to startle Gibbs too, because he gave a little grunt but acceded to Tony's request.

She watched, weary beyond belief, as they went into the next door room. She could see Tony talking rapidly to Gibbs in a low, earnest voice. Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest, looking furious, but that didn't stop Tony. She tuned into their conversation.

"We've done enough for today. Look at her - she's exhausted."

"We're all damn well tired, Tony! But I have to find out who is trying to hurt her."

"I know." Tony's tone was placating. "But she's already scared. You growling at her doesn't help."

"She had a death threat! I don't care if she's dead on her feet – better that than dead for real."

"You're freaking her out!"

"I'm trying to protect her!"

"By working her into the ground?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Just because you lost Kelly, doesn't mean you're going to lose Abby too, Jethro. Now cut her some slack."

Abby took a sharp intake of breath. Gibbs looked like he was about to snap Tony's head off. Tony held his ground, his gaze firm. Then, suddenly, all the tension seemed to go out of Gibbs, and he deflated like a balloon. He ran his hand through his hair with a weary sigh.

"You're right, Tony," he grunted. "Always know I can rely on you to get in my face when I need it."

Tony smiled, and Abby felt as if she was intruding on an intimate moment. Tony rested his hand lightly on Gibbs's arm and squeezed. They shared a look and then the moment was over. Tony removed his hand and returned to the kitchen.

"So, Abby – what d'you wanna eat?" he asked. "Pizza, Chinese, pizza, Thai, pizza, Indian, or, you know, pizza? Not that I want to influence your choice at all, Abs." He shot her his most charming grin, and she laughed, the queasiness in her stomach subsiding.

They ate the pizza sitting on the couch in front of "Stardust", a movie that Gibbs claimed not to remotely understand, but which she and Tony giggled through. Gibbs sat in the middle on the couch, and it was a tight squeeze fitting them all on.

Abby did what she had with Tony earlier and snuggled into Gibbs. She loved the warm, solid scent of him. He always smelled of safety to her – of sawdust and coffee and something utterly dependable. No matter how dangerous he was, and how scared of him everyone else was, she knew that he would always protect her. He put an arm around her and let her nestle in close.

She got up when the film ended and said good night to them both. She was dreading going to court the next day and wanted to get to bed and hopefully get some sleep, although she didn’t *feel* like sleeping at all.

She paused in the doorway and glanced back. Tony and Gibbs were still sitting on the couch, side by side, shoulders touching, and there was something puzzling about their body language – something she couldn't wrap her tired brain around. She dismissed it and went upstairs to bed.

Much to her own surprise, she was so worn out that she fell asleep immediately and slept straight through until 5 a.m. when her cell phone bleeped. She lifted her head blearily, wondering who could be sending her a text message at this time of night. She sat up in bed, turned on the light, reached for her phone, and clicked on the message without even thinking.

"I see you've gone into hiding. Afraid? You should be. I'm coming to get you, Abigail Sciuto."

She jumped out of bed. He knew where she was! When he said he was coming to get her, did he mean right now? Was he already in the house – or even standing outside her bedroom door at this very moment? Who the hell was this bastard, and why was he trying to scare her like this?

She grabbed her hairbrush to use as a weapon and cautiously pulled open the bedroom door. There was nobody there. She ran down the hallway towards the one person she knew would always keep her safe, no matter what.

"Gibbs!" she yelled, running into his bedroom, still clutching the cell phone.

She paused, frozen in shock. Gibbs was half out of bed, reaching for his gun – and he wasn't alone. Behind him, on the other side of the bed, the side furthest from the door, was someone else.

Tony.

Tony's head was lifted in sleepy shock, and he was blinking blearily. He was wearing black leather cuffs on his wrists - and they were attached by a chain to the headboard. He was also wearing the black collar she'd seen around his neck a couple of weeks ago, and that, also, was attached to the headboard.

Abby stared, a dozen different things running through her mind at the same time.

Gibbs was Tony's 'hot top'. Gibbs was the one who 'got' Tony, the one Tony was so crazy in love with.

Gibbs.

It should have been shocking, but somehow it wasn't, and she wasn't sure why. In fact, there was something almost ordinary about it. It felt so *right*, as if it was the way the world should be.

Everything fell into place; the suits in the closet belonged to Tony. That fancy bathrobe he'd been wearing also belonged to Tony. Then there was the presence of that mysterious locked chest in the closet – she suddenly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the key she'd seen hanging around Tony's neck opened it. And there hadn't been any pillows and blankets on the couch because Tony was sleeping here, in Gibbs's bed, where he so clearly belonged.

Then time speeded up again, and Gibbs had turned on the light and was by her side, gun in hand. Tony unclipped himself from his bondage in a matter of seconds, with an ease that spoke of frequent practice, and then he was by her side too, also holding a gun. She was relieved that they were both wearing boxers and tee shirts, or she thought she'd have expired on the spot and saved her mystery stalker the effort of killing her.

"Abby?" Gibbs grabbed her arm. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"He sent me a text message," she said, handing him the cell phone with trembling fingers. Gibbs grabbed it, and his jaw tightened as he read the message.

"Tony – check the outside agents," he rapped out.

Tony was pulling on a pair of sweats and some sneakers, and he seemed to have lost the cuffs and collar somewhere along the way.

"On it, Boss," he said, disappearing out of the door.

"Outside agents? What outside agents?" Abby asked blankly.

"The ones I assigned to watch the house when we're in it," Gibbs told her tersely. He pulled on his jeans, a shirt, and a pair of boots and then threw her Tony's bathrobe. Looking down, she realised she was dressed only in her panties and tee shirt, and she flushed and pulled on the bathrobe. "Downstairs. With me. Now," Gibbs ordered, leading the way.

~*~

End of Part Fourteen
Two Masters - Part Fifteen