IT’S HIS LIFE, NOW
When the shots came they ducked. Of coarse they ducked. They were all highly trained agents after all. So that wasn’t the surprise. The surprises started with the phone call. It came to Ducky’s cell. The fucker actually answered it. The what the fuck’s flying between Tony and Gibbs’ eyebrows were epic.
So there they were. Hunkered down in Autopsy. Shots flying over their heads. Ricocheting off stainless steel tables or drawers. And Duck answers his damned cell. And it had given the strangest ringtone too. “That has better be damned important, Duck,” Gibbs growled.
“I believe it shall be Jethro,” Ducky had answered. He swiped to answer and two more shots rang through the room.
“Da,” he said and Tony blinked so hard at that he thought he’d sprained his eyelids. A quick glance at Gibbs showed his eyes narrowed to a slit. Tony swallowed and took two fast shots at where he thought the shooter was and then hunkered back down. Fuck it, he wanted to listen to this.
“Duck. Put that thing on speaker,” Gibbs ordered.
Tony saw the older man sigh than put the cell phone down after taping at it.
“You are on speakerphone my friend,” he said.
“Good. Thank you Ilya. Agent Gibbs. Agent DiNozzo. My name is Napoleon Solo. Former CIA. Former US Army. Always a conman and former Angent from Uncle. You are currently under fire from a certain assassin. His target is young Agent DiNozzo. I will not allow him to succeed. However, once I accomplish this you must all vacate the building and if at all possible the country. Please allow Ilya to facilitate this. Ilya are you ready?” The tones were male and cultured. Smug even.
Ducky contorted himself around and under the bench he was hunkering behind and came back up with a couple of handguns, a rifle and an AK 47. Tony almost swallowed his tongue at the shock.
“What the actual fuck Ducky?” Tony exclaimed.
“Ah, my boy. Just relax you are in excellent hands. Ready Ilya?” The voice asked.
“Ready Solo,” Ducky said. His voice different and colder. He quickly slid the rifle to Gibbs, one handgun into his own pants and one to Tony. He slung the AK up and started running and shooting. He covered Tony with his body before Tony understood what he was doing.
As he hunkered down in front of Tony he stopped firing and they heard a cultured voice say “Done. Meet me outside.”
“Let’s move gentlemen. It’s rather a good thing we were alone at this time. I don’t think I’d like to explain this to anyone else. Now come along gentlemen.” Ducky was moving. Herding them in front of him. Until suddenly they found themselves outside and in the street. A car that could only be described as space age sliding to a stop in front of them. One gullwing door opened and Ducky practically threw them in. And they took off. Flew down the road really.
Tony untangled himself from Gibbs, the other man as perplexed and pissed off as Tony. He lifted his brows at Gibbs who nodded once, squared his shoulders and snapped. “Ducky. Answers. Now!”
“He is a hothead isn’t he?” The stranger asked.
Tony watched Ducky pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head. “Solo,” he sighed.
“Gentlemen please allow us enough time to get to safety. All shall be answered in due course,” the new man, Solo? Answered.
“Can you at least tell us where we're going?” Tony asked quietly, his hand patting Gibbs’ leg. “Vinegar and honey, boss,” he whispered when Gibbs eyed him sideways.
Gibbs grunted once, but didn't move otherwise.
A chuckle from the front grabbed their attention. “Yes Agent Gibbs, you're far more likely to catch a fly with honey, than with vinegar. However, my son, I'm not a fly. I will tell you that you are currently as safe as you could be. The assassin sent to kill you is dead, his name was Ari Haswari. A very bad individual and his many, many bad deeds are being transmitted to every government and terrorist organization he has double crossed as we speak. We are currently headed to Ilya’s home, where other things will be made clear. From there we can formulate a workable plan.”
“So I guess you're Napoleon Solo,” Tony said.
“At your service my boy,” the older man said from the driver's seat, going a funny sort of twirl with his hand that reminded Tony if someone doffing a top hat.
“Why do you keep calling Ducky, Ilya?” Gibbs spoke up now.
“Perhaps he should answer that,” Solo said softly.
Eyes turned to Ducky and Tony saw as his shoulders slumped than lifted. “In another life, my name was Ilya Kuryakin. I was KGB. Later assigned to the American division of an Anti-terrorist Agency known as U.N.C.L.E, Uncle for short. This American beside me was my partner. The Agency was set the task of bringing an end to THRUSH. We did. When the Agency was dismantled we were given new identities. I was a Doctor and Scientist, so I became Dr. Donald Ducky Mallard. My friend here was accomplished in human psychology, thus he became Jeremy Whiteshield-Smythe, a proficient businessman based in Hawaii.
“By adhering to our cover identity we have survived all these years where others have not. Yes SECDEF and SECNAV know about me. No, no-one else does at NCIS. No, I wouldn't have told you without reason. Your lives are precious to me and you knowing my true identity only puts you in further danger.”
“No one would ever associate mild mannered, of on a story tangent telling, Dr. Mallard, call me Ducky, with the coldly efficient Agent Kuryakin,” Solo told them as they drive into Ducky’s driveway.
“To the back please, Solo,” Ducky instructed.
Tony blinked at his own brain. “Ah, Ducky? What do we call you?”
The older man turned around in his seat to look at the men seated in back. “I rather hope you'll still call me, friend.”
Gibbs reached over and placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. “I think I speak for both Tony and me here. You'll always be a friend, family even.”
Ducky chuckled. “Careful there Jethro or you'll have to forgo that functional mute moniker.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just answer the damned question,” Gibbs groused.
Three chuckles swept around the car just as Solo parked it and they sat there waiting. Ducky turned forward in his seat again and sat still. A low beeping started. Then Tony felt a tingle run over him and Ducky’s voice speaking.
“Authorization, Kuryakin. Enter four.”
“Authorization, Solo. Enter four.”
A tinny female voice then spoke. “No undue stress detected. Scan authorized for Kuryakin. Authorized for Solo. Gibbs and DiNozzo-Solo indicated. Initialization procedures approved Kuryakin?”
“Approved and authorized complete entry.’ Ducky said and then the world was rising around them, or they were sinking. Tony wasn't sure but he couldn't keep the massive grin off his face. “We’re in a James Bond movie boss,” he whispered.
“Yeah but if Oddjob shows up I don't think I have enough bullets.”
Gibbs answered, making Tony gape at him, but Tony saw the tiny grin on his boss’s face regardless.
When it was all said and done they exited the car into an underground bunker. All concrete and electrical panels. Kuryakin and Solo placed palms on scanners. Retinas were read and voice prints approved before they were allowed into what Tony could only describe as an inner sanctum. Complete with leather armchairs and drinks trolley.
“I feel like I'm in a gentleman's club somewhere,” Tony said, voice awed as he looked around the room. He took the tumbler Solo handed him and saw Gibbs taking his own before they dropped into dark leather armchairs and waited.
“So, someone wanna make some explanations?” Tony asked, gaze still roaming. It fell on Gibbs as he took a swallow of his drink, his face morphing into appreciation as he swallowed and looked at it seriously.
“Its amazing how something tastes in a glass and not a tool jar, no Jethro?” Kuriakin smirked.
“More like you get what you pay for,” Gibbs shrugged. “Now quit stallin’”
“Perhaps you'd let me?” Solo asked. He received three nods took a sip of his own drink and began. “Way back when, just after the second world war, I worked for the CIA. Eventually I was sent on a case that crossed a KGB top asset. We almost killed each other but I got away. Months later I was assigned to a new Agency and was introduced to my new partner. That same KGB top asset. Needless to say it was not a good day for my suit. Regardless of our feelings about the situation we were paired up to achieve a remarkable degree of success. We were, still are, quite a team.
“The Agency was called UNCLE. It has now disappeared from the annals of spydom, to be only a rumour. Our main and practically only objective was to stop THRUSH. Ilya can tell you more about them later. Once they were finished, we were dismantled and shuffled into other places or positions. While UNCLE existed however it did a great many things, some grand, some not so. One of them was in human experimentation. They wanted to see if they could breed the perfect spy, the perfect agent. One that could blend and assimilate perfectly into any situation. The perfect undercover asset.
“They took sperm from every male agent they had and inseminated volunteers. It was all very hush hush even back then. Now the details are almost impossible to find.”
“Almost?” Gibbs questioned.
“Nothing is completely lost if one knows where to look, Agent Gibbs. Which brings us to now, or so. A few years ago Illya started telling me about this brash young Agent that he was working with. His penchant for good clothes. His knowledge of movies and cinema. His ability to always find trouble. His prowess as an undercover operative.
“I have to admit I was curious and had Illya send me a photo. The young man in question looked very like me at the same age. I procured a blood sample from Bethesda. Anyway, I had the sample analysed privately for a DNA match…” Solo trailed off.
“So what are you saying here, Solo?” Gibbs asked because really there was no way Tony was about to say anything at this point.
Solo looked around at them, his gaze finally falling on Tony and staying there. “What I'm saying Agent Gibbs is that Anthony Dominic Dinozzo Jr is genetically speaking, my son. His mother was one of the volunteers recruited by UNCLE for their insemination program. Did she know what was going on, did your father, Dominic DiNozzo?” Here he turned his gaze to Kuryakin.
Ducky rolled the glass in his hands. “I was on the team which inseminated the volunteers. We told them only that which was necessary. They were all couples who were trying desperately to conceive and have children. They went through psychological tests and what we would now call counseling. They went into it with their eyes open. Did they truly understand? Were they truly ready? Our psychologists said they did.
“They filled in the right forms and said the right things. So as far as we could tell, yes they knew what they were doing. They did not know they were incubating the future of spies. Your father had to have been there for the insemination. We were very particular about having both husband and wife there on the day.” Ducky shrugged and drank half of his own glass.
“However it's not a big surprise he never told you. That generation was always told to not speak about such things. Also, his own sense of manhood had been damaged by needing aid in giving his wife a child. Your father is quite a proud man after all.”
“And an idiot when it comes to his finances,” Solo cut his friend off. “I could make it my full time employ keeping that man out of trouble. I won't because if he ends up in jail, it's his fault,” Solo practically pouted.
“Have you been keeping Senior out of jail?” Tony asked.
“Jail no. However, I have been ensuring he doesn't bankrupt himself for a while now. If the man needs funds, he'll come after you. I don't want you to need to deal with that. I did not know I had a child Tony, but now I do know, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. Be it from international assassins or adopted father's.” Solo stood to pace the room.
He made it through two circuits before Ducky stood up and blocked his way. “We have plans to make, old man. Now sit so we can do so, da?”
“Ducky, is your accent changing?” Tony asked curiously.
The older man sighed. “Perhaps. My accent tends to return when I speak with Napoleon. It makes no sense. Just is.”
As soon as Solo sat, Tony popped up. He had to move. Change the subject, change something. He pounced on something. “Solo, your car. That thing is out of this world. What is it?”
Solo chuckled. “That dear boy is a Piranha. Also known as a Superspy car. UNCLE designed it for me and some other agents. Only a few were ever made.”
“If it's so rare, doesn't it make it obvious who you are?” Gibbs asked.
“A little, however every year I make sure new Piranhas are seen around the world. There are around a hundred of them on the road worldwide. Do you want one?” He asked grinning.
“Are you nuts?” Tony almost bounced in place at the offer.
“Fabulous, Ilya can add the little safety modifications to turn into a Superspy car like mine. The others are bullet and explosive proof, but they don't have built-in machine guns or rocket launchers,” Solo said smiling. “Are you ready for more?”
Tony started to pace. An arm shot out and pulled him down, right into Gibb’s lap. Steel arms wrapped around him and one leg crossed his own to keep him bound. “Sheesh boss,” Tony grumbled.
“Maybe not boss for much longer. Now sit still. I wanna know about the assassin.”
Tony slumped in resignation. “Okay, hit me. The attempt did it have anything to do with, anything?”
“Well yes and no,” Solo answered.
“Our shooter was given a target. A few actually. Hurt Ilya. Kill either you, Tony or Kate. He took the opportunity to hit two birds with one stone, so to speak. You were both in autopsy together, so he took the chance. He didn't expect Ilya to be able to stay alive. My friend's identity has not been compromised. Nor did he expect me to have been on his trail.”
“Why!” Gibbs barked.
“I believe, it was Mossad. They want an operative on your team. They assumed if they injured Ilya or yourself, and killed either Tony or Kate to make room for someone else, you'd be too emotionally compromised to object. They were creating a nice little hole for themselves.” Solo answered.
“Well, that is just fucked up!” Tony exclaimed.
“Indeed. But that won’t work. He's dead. And if I have my way, breaking into the team will no longer be viable. And someone else can deal with the rest of the bull, because I want you and Gibbs, if he wants, to come back to Hawaii with me.” Solo dropped that bombshell with a smile.
“Hawaii? Why? What are you talking about? What? I think you'd better explain. Ever-y-thing,” Tony enunciated very slowly.
“Hmm, very well,” Solo sighed and hummed. “I live in Hawaii. I've set myself up quite nicely there. We can have your good self and Agent Gibbs either transferred to Hawaii as a part of NCIS, or you can simply come home with me. You are my son and as much as I've wanted to find a way to meet you and get to know you, I'm rather inclined to grasp this opportunity and steal you away with you.”
“Hawaii?” Tony asked.
“Feel like working on your tan, Tony?” Gibbs asked, arms and leg still wrapped around Tony and not looking at anyone else in the room.
“I can always work on my tan boss,” he grinned over his shoulder. “But as much as I'd like Hawaii, my life is here, my job is here.”
“How much danger is Tony in if he stays here?” Gibbs asked.
“That's hard to answer,” Kuryakin answered this time. “Our dear boy there is a complete trouble magnet. He does not need to go looking for it, it simply gravitates to him. Something he shares with his biological father I'm afraid. I've had more reason to use my medical skills on him than on anyone else, other than my former partner here that is. I don't really believe my identity has been broken, I don't think Tony’s true genetics have been revealed and I do believe Napoleon’s alter ego is still safe. So to answer your question, Jethro, is young Tony in danger? Yes, yet he is always in danger. Is he in any more or specific danger?
“I could not really answer that in the affirmative, but neither can I deny it. So the question remains, what to do next. Napoleon can protect him more easily and fully within his own domain. Is it necessary?” He shrugged and took another sip.
“So what? You want me to pack my shit and leave everything I have here and move to Hawaii. Find a new job? A new identity? I don't think I can do that. Not now.” Tony told them a little sadly.
“Maybe-umm maybe-” Gibbs cut himself off and used one hand to rub over his mouth before putting his arm back where it had been, around Tony's chest. “Maybe we could talk to SECNAV or SECDEF. There is an NCIS office at Pearl. I could transfer there. If Tony keeps his identity he could transfer with me. We’d run the MCRT there, maybe. If he has to change it, I'd still be on hand if I'm needed.”
“What? Boss? You'd leave? Leave everything here? Why?”
“Like Solo is trying to tell ya, Tony. You do what you have to for family. And we've sorta been family for a while now, haven't we?” Gibbs smiled softly and gently prodded Tony off his lap. “You're too old to be sitting in a man’s lap, DiNozzo.”
“Ha, you put me there,” Tony shot back, but he was grinning even as he stood up. “So , I'm a target because what? Because I'm a science experiment? Because my genetics are super spy? Because I could be leverage? Why am I even involved here? Or am I surplus. An annoying additive?” He was pacing but no longer agitated.
“I'm not sure you are a target my boy, but you are in the way. As is the lovely Agent Todd. Release this weary world of either of your good selves and a place opens up on the MCRT at NCIS. Then its a simple matter of installing a spy of their own. A little finagling and they have access to classified information.” Solo says. “At least that's how it would have been done in our day. And really even with all of our new technologies, that's still the best way to gather information and exert influence. And with Ilya gone as well, Gibbs here would have been far too compromised to realise what was happening. Let us not forget your propensity of adopting young damsels in distress as surrogate daughters agent Gibbs. They are a weakness of yours and rather easily manipulated. Please do not make that sour face at me, you know its true,” Solo drawled.
“Yeah, alright. What do you seriously suggest then?” Gibbs snapped.
Solo looked at Kuryakin then between Tony and Gibbs, took another swallow and got up himself. He went over to a shelf and leaned on it. The way he did it had Tony trying not to choke on his own breath. “Mirror, mirror on the wall…” he whispered.
“Not sure whose fairer, but I can see where you get it from,” Gibbs told him.
“Oh that's nothing. You should see Napoleon flirt. I pity the female population,” Kuryakin said with a good natured grimace.
Tony and Solo looked at each other, then both narrowed their eyes and looked to the Russian who was still seated in his armchair, blissfully ignoring them both as he contemplated his own drink. Gibbs gave a sharp bark of laughter and Tony threw his hands in the air.
“Fine, whatever. Okay DAD, plans.”
“Come to Hawaii. Work for me. Work for NCIS. whichever, but come now. Don't be the item they must remove. Be gone. Agent Todd can remain on the team and a spy can still be fitted in-”
“Hell no!” Gibbs growled, interrupting the other man. “I’m not about to have some spy on my team. Not about to get anymore compromised. Tony leaves. I leave. I can retire. Or like I said, transfer to Pearl. Wouldn't matter which.”
“Boss if I'm not in danger, you don't need to…” he trailed off. “You got your stubborn face on,” he sighed.
“Ya think? Family. You go. Ducky goes, Kuryakin, whatever, cause I got a feeling he's leaving if you do. I go. We'll kidnap Abby and take her too. Offer Kate a relocate, I don't care. I ain't staying if you ain't here. Got it?” Gibbs crossed his arms.
“Tony, look at me.”
Tony looked at the man he'd known as Ducky for years.
“This profession is rather detrimental to the creation and keeping of a biological family. So we tend to create our rather strange, non traditional and in many ways quite dysfunctional families. You however are rather special. To Napoleon and myself you are the child, the son we never had. To Jethro you are now the forgiveness for not being able to protect those which relied on him for protection, even though we all know you can protect yourself rather well. So please understand that we are revolving our lives about you. Yes I do realise that is placing a great deal upon your shoulders, but I do believe you can handle it.”
Tony kicked at the Persian rug for a second or two as he thought. “So, I go from a father that was never there, to a biological father I never knew about, and a pseudo father whom I've known for years, both of whom were spies. A protector that used to be my boss and s new life in a tropical Paradise. While simultaneously foiling a spy agency? Have I got that right?”
“Somewhat, yes,” Solo answered.
“So if we do this and I work for you, and we could get Cait a transfer to the Pearl office with Gibbs, what would I be doing?”
“I'm just building the Private Investigation part of my enterprise. I thought you'd enjoy that,” Solo smiled.
“A PI? In Hawaii?” Tony squealed.
Solo nodded once.
“I get to be Magnum!” Tony exclaimed. “Oh we are so doing this. Who would I work with? Do you know any cops? Oh so many questions.
“We can get to them later. Yes I do know a few officers in the HPD. We’re in the process of building the team. If Abigail could be persuaded I'm sure I could outfit a laboratory that would keep her happy. I'll let you consider it?” Solo asked.
“If this works out, I'd get to be Magnum PI. Have my friends around. Have Gibbs around. And get to know my real dad…” Tony trialled off again, his gaze far away for a few seconds. Then he grinned. “Let's get this party started.” He clapped his hands grinning.”Always loved Hawaii.”
Tony sat at the bar contemplating. He’d moved his ass to Hawaii six months ago. He couldn’t say his life had been boring either. His first case had been handed to him before he’d even unpacked his suitcase. Napoleon Solo, aka, Dad had not wanted Tony to dwell over anything related to his personal life.
Tony was actually glad about that because his life had been turned inside out in a matter of hours. An assassin sent after them. Another assassin sent to infiltrate them by killing one of them, probably Cait. Gibbs weakness for pseudo daughters would have been their downfall. Instead Tony’s real father had walked in and saved the day. For all of them. And that was the kick in the guts.
Tony had learned early on to never rely on his father, correction, on Senior. Well one could always rely on Senior, to take advantage of any given situation but that was it. Instead he found himself as a grown ass man being able to rely on someone other than, well, Gibbs. Other than Gibbs. Not to mention the whole I’m a test tube baby thing or oh my god my dad is a real life James Bond type spy. What the hell!
So Tony now sat at the bar and let his gaze fixate on the drink in front of him. It was a local whiskey. He’d been surprised when he’d first walked into this bar by a few things. One. He wasn’t really interested in drinking. Two, this bar had a baby grand in one corner, dusty from no use with a guitar on top of it. Paolo the owner and constant bartender had a soft spot for local spirits of the bottled variety. So every time Tony walked in the man would pour him a shot of something new for Tony to test. Tony didn’t know if he was special or if this was standard for Paolo’s Bar but he never asked and didn’t complain, he just sampled and reviewed what he was offered.
Tonight it was a rather good local whiskey. A deep amber in color that matched its deep smokey flavour that coated his tongue in rich earthy flavors but once swallowed left a tangy sweetness in its wake. Tony liked it. He made a note to ask Paolo what it was called for later.
He picked up his glass and walked over to the piano. This had become a regular thing for him too now. He didn’t have a piano at home, yet. But it was on the cards. Once he got home fully sorted anyway. Until then he’d come here. Nurse a drink for a few hours and then play the piano for a few hours more. As had become habit he put the glass on a tiny table beside the piano stool, because putting a glass on top of a beautiful work of art was sacrilege in his book and sat down.
He placed his fingers on the keys and closed his eyes. He let his mind wander into the hidden crevices it wanted to walk through and let his thoughts move through his fingers and into the keys they lay on, pouring his thoughts into music. He didn’t worry about other people. The bar was usually empty for a few hours after he got there. Only filling up after ten and by then he’d usually played his emotions out by then so he would stick around and take requests or play anything that took his fancy.
But it was early and this was his emotional release. He poured out his turmoil. Being a cop was never safe, but being hunted was something else. He had always had a father, but now it appeared he had a Dad. one he could count on to be there for him. He hadn’t ever had much of a family, beyond the sort of dysfunctional one he had at work, now he had a functional one comprising of members of his dysfunctional one. He’d loved being a cop and agent, but some of the more sordid aspects of the job had always left him feeling useless and off kilter. This Private Investigations gig, well in many ways it was a pure blast. Jewellery heists. Money laundering. Missing husbands or wives that ran off with the gardener or nanny and all the cash. Tony knew the cases were important to the people involved, but after all he’d seen, he couldn’t really take them that seriously. Not to say he didn’t put everything into solving them, because he did, but he did do it with a grin on his face and a skip in his step.
Nothing he had dealt with yet in any way shape or form had been life threatening to anyone concerned. He didn’t think his talents were being wasted, but he did wonder if his, Dad, wasn’t cherry picking the cases just to keep Tony occupied but safe. That was another kick in the stomach. There was someone interested in his safety. Heck he and Napoleon spoke on a daily basis. The older man called Tony at least once a day to catch up. It wasn’t like Tony didn’t live in the same damned compound either.
Yeah, Tony could only describe his new home as a compound. It was an estate. A gated and fenced estate. With its own helipad and chopper. Multiple little luxury bungalows and a main house, that could have done double duty as a small boutique hotel. Napoleon Solo was either eccentric or had some major security kinks. Seeing as he was a former spy Tony thought it was a bit of both. He also had a thing for wanting to keep his people close. Again judging by his past, Tony couldn’t fault him on that either.
Tony had a luxury bungalow. It was right between Gibbs’ and Abbi’s. Kuryakin lived in the main house. Tony wasn’t sure if there was something going on between Solo and Kuryakin, or there had been, but he wasn’t ruling it out, neither did he want to know. Gibbs’ had moved his life to Hawaii in a heartbeat. Even packed his own father up and brought him out here. Tony didn’t know what Jackson did with his day, but he was never seen without a gaggle of kids around him and mothers practically throwing their toddlers at him so they could get some peace and quiet. Tony suspected there were lots of stories and sweets involved though.
Gibbs ‘ reaction had thrown Tony for a loop. It was one thing to say, yeah I’ll leave everything behind and move with you, and then do. But Gibbs had, without a second thought. Cait hadn’t, and Tony wasn’t surprised by that. Cait had family on the mainland. A sister and nieces or perhaps nephews, whatever. So maybe moving had not really been an option. Gibbs had reached out to someone he knew at the Secret Service and Cait had been reabsorbed into the fold with a promotion and better pay.
When Gibbs and Tony had asked Abbi, her scream of yesyesyesyes, had almost caused ears to bleed. Tony hadn’t been sure about how Abbi’s wardrobe would survive the transplant, then he’d seen her walk out of her bungalow on day two of their arrival wearing a black bikini that could have been spidersilk, and carrying a black lace parasol and wondered how the islands would survive Abbi. He had laughed himself hoarse at the sight of the unflappable Ilya Kuryakin, running out of the house carrying a towel and trying to cover Abbi with it. For someone of that age, he sure moved fast. Currently Abbi and Kuryakin worked for Solo in an R&D capacity.
Gibbs ran the NCIS office at Pearl. His transfer was signed, sealed and delivered with one proviso. Gibbs wanted to be retired out in five years. Early retirement. Tony still wandered about that. Gibbs could conceivably keep going for years yet but he didn’t want to. Napoleon was already making plans to slide Gibbs in to help Tony after the NCIS badge was hung up. It felt like his Dad was always making plans, not that Tony could complain, since it felt like those plans were geared towards making Tony happy. Still something rankled and Tony couldn’t figure out what.
He stopped playing and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times then sighed. “Hi Dad.”
“Hey kid,” Napoleon Solo said leaning on the piano.
“How’d you find me?”
“Your man always knows where you are,” Solo answered.
“Gibbs always knows where you are.” Solo said grinning.
“Gibbs is not my man. He’s-he’s-”
“He packed up his life and his father and moved here to be with you. If he’s not yours I don’t know who he belongs to, cause it’s sure not me. I’ve got enough to deal with, with Ilya. So you get to keep Gibbs”
“Arggh!” Tony clamped his hands over his ears. “TMI Dad. TMI.”
Solo laughed and after a second Tony joined in. Solo turned away and pulled a chair over to sit across from Tony. “Have you cleared what’s troubling you yet kid?”
Tony shrugged. “I can’t- I don’t-” he stopped and shrugged again.
Solo sighed. “Yeah, okay. Let me try here. You don’t know how to feel. It's all crazy. You find out your dad isn’t your dad. Your real dad was a spy. You’re bred to be a spy, a super spy really. You half dealt with this back in DC but its all catching up. Half of your friends have moved their lives to be around you.
“You don’t think you deserve that, mainly because your asshole dad number one made you think you didn't deserve anything and you can't have good things. You can’t believe you’re dating your former boss and things are going really well. You haven’t had sex yet so you’re not sure he’s really interested. Believe me he is. You can’t believe you can trust me to be your safe place. Believe me you can. You have two safe places now Tony. Gibbs and me. We won’t let you down.”
“I know that, I really do. But there is this tiny part of me that makes me doubt, you know,” Tony said around a sigh.
“I get that kid, I really do. My past, well I haven’t told you everything, but, until UNCLE, I didn’t have many people I could rely on. Then, well Ilya came along and quite literally kept pulling me out of the fire and saving my ass. I can’t count how many times he’s saved my life. He was the first person in my life I could count on. Ilya and Waverly. He was our Director. Backed us up as much as he could. Come hell or high water. He’s passed now or I’d introduce you to him.
“The breeding of Superspies wasn’t his idea, he fought it as much as he could, but UNCLE was under Presidential Mandate, and that meant he could be overruled. Regardless he did his best and constantly stuck his neck out for us. He was a good man. And a patriotic one.” Napoleon sighed and looked around them. He picked up the guitar from on top of the piano and strummed it. He made a face at the cords out of tune and spent a few minutes tuning it by ear. Humming contentedly every time he was happy with the sound each cord produced.
“You play?” Tony asked indicating the musical instrument with a lift of his eyebrows.
Solo grinned and winked at him, then started strumming a tune. “See if you can follow me.”
Tony grinned back and listened for a few seconds before picking up on the rhythm and starting to play a counterpoint on the piano. He closed his eyes and let his instinct move his fingers over the keys. He sighed and smiled softly as piano and guitar sang around each other, lifting and soaring. Pushing and coaxing into a symphony that was heavenly and euphoric.
Tony felt the music lift him out of his contemplations, and if he was really truthful with himself, his self pity. He grinned and opened his eyes. His father, his Dad, was just looking at him, even as his fingers flew over the guitar strings. His eyes were brimming with tears. His lips were smiling, the man was practically laughing he was grinning so hard. But even through all that Tony saw the most shocking thing of all.
Pride. Napoleon Solo was proud of him. His father was proud of him. Tony grinned back as it sank into his heart. He was loved. People were proud of him. He had family. With a brilliant and exhilarated laugh he played to a rising crescendo, hearing the guitar matching him and winding through the music he played. With a flourish they brought the symphony to an end and Tony dropped his hands to his lap. The smile on his face felt huge. The tears he hadn’t noticed kept falling unchecked down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop laughing. He felt lighter than he could remember ever feeling since he was a child.
Finally laughed out he wiped his cheeks and face using the handkerchief his dad handed him and sucked in much needed air. “Well, that was an emotional bloodletting I didn’t expect,” he sighed.
Solo shrugged. “Had to happen sometime. You’ve been heading for it. Gibbs, Ilya and myself were waiting for it. I pulled parental privilege. And won. However Gibbs asked me to remind you the two of you have dinner plans this evening. And as its past sunset I suggest you get a move on.”
“What-what do you think about Gibbs? About Gibbs and me?” Tony asked. He was a grown adult but somehow now he had a dad, he wanted his approval.
Solo smiled. “The man upended his life and followed you here kid. That says a whole lot in my book. Now scoot.”
Tony laughed and stood up. On impulse he quickly hugged his dad and then ran out of the bar. He had a dinner to get to.
Walking into Gibbs’ bungalow Tony could smell some delicious smells. He followed his nose to the kitchen where Jethro was stirring something on the stove. “Wow, that smells incredible.”
Jethro grinned over his shoulder. “Ragout and fettuccini . And a pineapple upside down cake with Chantilly cream. There’s a Pinot in the fridge. It’s open and breathing.’
Tony laughed and walked to the fridge. “Wine doesn’t breathe in the fridge, Jethro.” He said and pulled the bottle out, taking it to the table. He set it in the middle. A minute later he had the table set, just waiting for dinner. “Anything I can do to help?” Tony asked softly wrapping his arms around Jethro from behind.
Jethro sighed and leaned into the touch. “What you’re doing right now is perfect. But dinner is ready. Take your seat and I’ll bring it over.”
Tony stepped back reluctantly and went to take his seat. Jethro followed a minute later setting a bowl of pasta and another of ragout. Smiling Tony served two portions and inhaled happily before taking a forkful into his mouth. He hummed around his food in appreciation before swallowing. “Why didn't you ever let any of us know you could cook. This is amazing. You only ever made cowboy steaks back in DC. here you're always making these incredible meals.”
Jethro shrugged. “DC, in DC I suppose I felt restricted, stifled maybe? Anyway once we landed here it felt like this huge weight had been lifted off me and I wanted to try new things. Jackson brought me mom’s cookbook and I’ve been trying things out from it ever since. How are you feeling?”
“Well,” Tony tan his fingers through his now much longer hair. “I guess it took me a while to get here, but I understand that freedom you’re talking about. I had a great talk with dad. I finally get it,” Tony told him then took another forkful of food.
“About time DiNozzo,” Jethro said flatly.
“Oh nonononono Gibbs. Remember my name is Everett now. Anthony Leon Everett. So you might as well just call me Tony. That new identity Abbi and Ilya came up with is wild. The only real way someone could crack it is by tracking you or Abby down, but since she’s got all of us flagged we’ll get warned before anyone turns up.” Tony grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
Gibbs chuckled and ruffled up Tony’s slicked back hair. “Fine, fine. Now eat up. I want to get to dessert. In bed.”
Tony smiled wider and ate faster. Dessert and Jethro in bed. “ Well Mr. Gibbs, what are you planning?” Tony enquired, eyebrows dancing, just before he popped the last of his food into his mouth.
Jethro smiled and picked up the empty plates to drop in the sink before pulling Tony up and into his arms. He made to kiss Tony and just as Tony relaxed he swooped and threw Tony over his shoulder.
Tony laughed every step of the way as he was carried into Jethro’s bedroom and tossed down on the bed. Clothes were thrown off in record time. Tony gasped when he felt a hot mouth around his cock, sending him from happy to hard in a second flat. “Fuck. Jethro. Huh?’ was all he could say.
Jethro sucked him off steadily for a couple of minutes before Tony felt him pull away and groaned, feeling lost.
“Dessert?” Jethro asked a little husky.
“Huh?’ Tony asked.
“Did you want dessert?” Jethro asked again, seriously.
“Jethro! What the hel-” Tony’s exclamation was cut off as Jethro straddled his hips and slowly sank down on his cock. Jethro was already slick and loose. And Tony got it. This was the playful side of his lover no one ever saw. “I love your idea of dessert,” Tony moaned.
“This isn't dessert. This is desserrt,” Jethro said leaning over and taking something off the side table and placing it on Tony’s chest.
Tony could smell the pineapple and cake. Could feel the warmth from it seeping into his chest. Tony saw Jethro pick up the fork and cut off a piece, slowly offering it to Tony who opened his mouth to accept it. The upside down pineapple cake was delicious and melted on his tongue. He swallowed and hummed. “Delicious” he sighed then moaned as Jethro moved slowly. “Are you going to feed me and fuck me at the same time?” Tony panted.
Jethro grinned down at him. “Brilliant idea.” he said and proceeded to do just that.
By the time Jethro was finished with him Tony was jello. He couldn’t have stood to save himself. He let the arms around him pull him in close and rested his head on Jethro’s chest. “Will you stay the night?” Jethro whispered.
Tony sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “Yes.” he answered and felt Jethro relax under him.
“Good.” Jethro said and Tony felt the kiss placed to the top of his head. “Now go to sleep. There’s still work in the morning.”
Tony smiled softly and did as he was told.
Tony sighed when the comb was taken from his hand and Jethro ran it through his hair. They were in Jethro’s bathroom, getting ready for work. He leaned back against the damp body behind him and wrapped his arms awkwardly backwards. Jethro chuckled and rubbed his groin against Tony’s towel wrapped ass.
“You gotta thing about my hair? Think maybe I should dye it red?” Tony teased, just a little worried about the answer.
Jethro looked him in the eye in the mirror and kept running the comb through his hair. It reached just past his ears now and he figured he’d let it go to his shoulders before keeping it at that length. It was all a part of his new identity and he liked the broody yet cool vibe it gave off. He usually wore it tied back during the day but it had to get there first and Jethro just kept combing it. Not that Tony minded, the attentions, it was just melting him in every way possible.
“Ï couldn't care less if you dyed your hair bright blue. I just like being this close to you, especially in the mornings. It’s a treat to get you this close in the mornings,” Jethro’s voice was soft, as soft as the lips he ran along Tony’s jaw. He placed the comb on the edge of the sink and turned Tony around in his arms, pushing him into the counter. He quickly whipped their towels away and nipped at Tony’s morning stubbled jaw. Letting his teeth rasp along it. Jethro had a thing about his stubble too.
Tony chuckled and stretched into the touch. “My hair and my stubble. If you were infatuated with just my hair, I’d worry you were pretending I was a woman, but you mouth and bite at my unshaved chin so much I know you’re not pretending.”
Jethro pulled back, his eyes wide. “Tony. I’m all in this. All in. I love playing with your hair because it makes you melt into me. I love your stubble because you’re all man. Hopefully all my man. So don’t ever think I’m playing with you. I’m not and I wouldn’t.”
Tony blinked and realised he had to blink harder, just to get rid of the tears that had suddenly formed in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Okay. I get it. I’m a bit of an idiot about somethings, but I get it. You know, I was expecting some quick and dirty fun when you turned me around, then I had the open my mouth and put both feet in it.”
Jethro shook his head slowly then grinned evilly. “Quick and dirty huh?” he enquired before wrapping his large hand around both their half hard cocks and stroking them both so hard and fast that the swift that sudden loss of blood flowing south left his weak kneed. He leaned further into Jethro and let his head fall backwards, groaning when Jethro’s fingers worked their way along his scalp and supported his head. He moved his hips in time with Jethro’s own and the hand working them, moaning the whole time.
Jethro kissed along his jaw to his ear. “I love you,” Jethro whispered.
Tony felt the words settle in his heart and warm him. Jethro would tell him he loved at an almost daily basis. Today he actually understood it. “I love you too,” Tony told him. “I love you too, Jethro. J-J-Jethro,” Tony moaned and came over Jethro’s still massaging hand. Sighing when Jethro pulled him in as close as he could.
“About time you got there,” Jethro whispered. “I thought I’d have to smack you upside the head to get it through your thick skull, how much you mean to me.” Jethro’s mouth was against his neck. “You know, I saw the second you actually got it. Just now. Your eyes sort of lit up, and it wasn’t your orgasm. Your eyes go green when you’re about to come. No your eyes lit up in understanding. It was beautiful. I love you, Tony. I love you.”
Tony grinned and snuggled in close. “I love you too. I sorta miss the head slaps though. Why’d they stop?”
“I’m not going to head slap my partner.” Jethro sounded a touch affronted. “I only head slapped you because I was an asshole and couldn’t figure out a way to touch you when it would have been inappropriate as your boss. Now I can touch you as much as you’ll let me.”
“Jethro, you can touch me 24/7. That would be F.I.N.E by me. But you’re right, you were an ass. Thankyou for making this change with me. Thankyou for taking this chance.”
“Nothing to say thanks for Tony. I’m glad I came. You’re a gift for me. A reward. Something and someone to strive for. A second chance. Hell Tony, you’re my reason. Now don’t let that weigh you down. It’s just what love does to people. My world revolved around you as much as possible in Washington. Now it can build around you too. Have I scared you off?” Jethro sounded worried, like he might have revealed too much.
Tony shook his head. “I’ve never been that important to anyone before Jethro. Thankyou for making me that important to you.” Tony smiled, then looked around the bathroom, lifting an eyebrow.
“Hmm?” Jethro grinned and hummed a question.
“Do you think this bathroom is big enough for the both of us? This bungalow? Or should we see if Dad has bigger bungalows for two people?” Tony mused teasingly.
Jethro growled and threw Tony over his shoulder, walking him through the ensuite and into the bedroom in a second. He dropped them both on the bed before crawling over Tony. “Are you suggesting you move in with me?”
“If you’ll have me,” Tony whispered shyly.
Jethro blanketed him quickly wrapping him in arms and legs. “I think we’re going to have to call in a personal day at our offices. I think we need to celebrate,” Jethro told him before peppering his upturned grinning face with many, many kisses.
Tony sighed and kept smiling. Yes, this was his life, now.