there's a rule for that by iniq
title: there's a rule for that
pairing: gibbs/dinozzo
rating: r
warnings: precognition, unbeta'd, bad humor
spoilers: none
summary: Gibbs really doesn't like working with a partial precog. But he sure likes to reap the benefits.
for the "more things in heaven and earth" challenge
Sometimes, working with a partial precog really wasn't easy, Gibbs mused and looked around the office. He was a Marine - and Marines didn't do funny or paranormal. It had sounded easy enough in the beginning when they explained the whole concept to him and it worked well most of the time. But when your Senior Field Agent came to you shortly before leaving, telling you he wouldn't come in to work tomorrow because 'something would happen that would prevent him from coming in', not knowing why or what or when, clenching his teeth was all Gibbs could do to prevent himself from punching something.
So he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed his jacket and followed Tony downstairs to the parking garage. As Tony's boss it was his responsibility to make sure the other man was safe, even in their spare time. And if that was taking the rules a little too far, it sounded like a good, reasonable excuse to himself.
"Tony, wait up," he shouted and jogged after the other man. "I'll come with you," he said and opened the passenger door to Tony's car uninvited.
"Okay," Tony answered, smiling easily. When he sat inside, he looked over at Gibbs and raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because you said you wouldn't make it in tomorrow - and if something happens, I'll at least be there to help or maybe even prevent it."
"I said that?"
Gibbs rubbed a hand down his face. That was another one of 'those things' that came with the paranormal. These people had no clue how hard they were on their fellow human beings. Oh, sure it was good to know to bring a second shirt because he would spill coffee on the other, but was it too much to ask to get a precise time or a place - so he could prevent the incident? No, of course not - if he asked, he would get a surprised, sometimes even disturbingly mistrustful look. As if he was the weird one. And then he ended up with coffee down his shirt in Langley, with his spare shirt safely tucked in his bag at the headquarters - and then, to make matters worse, there would be the distinctive 'I told you so' look from his agent. They were nuisances - all of them.
Gibbs waited for Tony to start the car, but the other man just cleared his throat and pulled at his seatbelt demonstratively. With an exasperated sigh, Gibbs buckled up and was rewarded by the purr of a V8 motor coming to life.
As he was driving the car out of the parking lot, Tony asked, "So, do you want to get some take out?"
Gibbs tapped his knee. What could happen in a restaurant? Poisoned food, a robbery in the wrong place, getting hit by a car or a hit and run on the sidewalk, a neon sign crashing down on his agent, an old woman sticking Tony with her knitting needles for being too smarmy - no, Gibbs decided determinedly, there would be no fast food for Tony tonight. He shook his head. "No, we'll make sandwiches. You do have the ingredients at home, right?"
"Sure I do," Tony answered and safely drove them down the street toward his apartment.
Gibbs was alert to any signs of danger on the road and nervously twitched whenever he thought Tony wasn't leaving enough space between cars. In the end, they arrived safely and made it inside without problems. He pulled Tony toward the stairs instead of letting him take the elevator and made sure to walk behind Tony to watch his ass- six. His back. To make sure he didn't fall down the stairs.
By the time they arrived at Tony's door, he was transfixed with the way his agent's "back" swayed in those jeans. One step, a crease beneath the left buttock, the next step, a crease beneath the right - but it was all part of being observant, watching out for his partner - and of course, being well adjusted with his own sexuality.
Gibbs had no problems at all. "Home sweet home," he commented and toed his shoes off, leaving them next to Tony's so Tony couldn't trip over them, brain himself and get a concussion. In the kitchen, they settled into a routine easily. Gibbs offered to slice anything that needed work with a knife, just to be on the safe side, while Tony left to take a shower - and then he took one, while Tony finished the sandwiches with the round butter knife. Gibbs borrowed spare clothes and they settled in front of the TV for the night. At least that was the overall plan.
Four beers and a couple of shots of some high-proof and most likely flammable, called something like 'you have to try that!' later, they were close to falling either asleep or off the couch.
"There's nacho sauce on your nose," Tony commented and pointed at the tip of his own nose. He smiled widely. Gibbs stuck out his tongue but wasn't flexible enough. He grunted.
"Did you know that it's impossible to lick your own elbow?" Gibbs said after another unsuccessful try to lick his own nose clean.
Tony shook his head and giggled. "I bet I can lick your elbow," he answered instead and leaned closer.
Gibbs frowned when he felt Tony's tongue swipe the nacho sauce from his nose. "That's not my elbow."
"I know," Tony answered with a happy grin. "But it's a lot closer to your mouth."
True. Gibbs hadn't seen it that way. How that connected the dot from elbow to nose to mouth, he wasn't quite sure, but it seemed logical. His thoughts meshed together when he felt Tony's lips hit his with drunken imprecision.
Gibbs woke the next morning in a strange bed, the sun already high up in the sky. He blinked a few times, before he realized that the terrible headache seemed to be directly related to his blinking. So he left his eyes shut and turned over, only to feel his nose connect with something warm and fleshy.
"Hm," he grumbled and slid his eyelids open again. There was Tony, they both appeared to be naked, and the bed wasn't Gibbs' - and he had a headache. He was sure he had a rule about what those facts amounted to, but his brain wasn't operating at full capacity yet.
"Boss?" came the muffled groan from his bedside companion. "I think... I won't come in today."
"That's okay, Tony," Gibbs replied and wrapped an arm around his agent. "I knew that already."
+
pairing: gibbs/dinozzo
rating: r
warnings: precognition, unbeta'd, bad humor
spoilers: none
summary: Gibbs really doesn't like working with a partial precog. But he sure likes to reap the benefits.
for the "more things in heaven and earth" challenge
Sometimes, working with a partial precog really wasn't easy, Gibbs mused and looked around the office. He was a Marine - and Marines didn't do funny or paranormal. It had sounded easy enough in the beginning when they explained the whole concept to him and it worked well most of the time. But when your Senior Field Agent came to you shortly before leaving, telling you he wouldn't come in to work tomorrow because 'something would happen that would prevent him from coming in', not knowing why or what or when, clenching his teeth was all Gibbs could do to prevent himself from punching something.
So he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed his jacket and followed Tony downstairs to the parking garage. As Tony's boss it was his responsibility to make sure the other man was safe, even in their spare time. And if that was taking the rules a little too far, it sounded like a good, reasonable excuse to himself.
"Tony, wait up," he shouted and jogged after the other man. "I'll come with you," he said and opened the passenger door to Tony's car uninvited.
"Okay," Tony answered, smiling easily. When he sat inside, he looked over at Gibbs and raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because you said you wouldn't make it in tomorrow - and if something happens, I'll at least be there to help or maybe even prevent it."
"I said that?"
Gibbs rubbed a hand down his face. That was another one of 'those things' that came with the paranormal. These people had no clue how hard they were on their fellow human beings. Oh, sure it was good to know to bring a second shirt because he would spill coffee on the other, but was it too much to ask to get a precise time or a place - so he could prevent the incident? No, of course not - if he asked, he would get a surprised, sometimes even disturbingly mistrustful look. As if he was the weird one. And then he ended up with coffee down his shirt in Langley, with his spare shirt safely tucked in his bag at the headquarters - and then, to make matters worse, there would be the distinctive 'I told you so' look from his agent. They were nuisances - all of them.
Gibbs waited for Tony to start the car, but the other man just cleared his throat and pulled at his seatbelt demonstratively. With an exasperated sigh, Gibbs buckled up and was rewarded by the purr of a V8 motor coming to life.
As he was driving the car out of the parking lot, Tony asked, "So, do you want to get some take out?"
Gibbs tapped his knee. What could happen in a restaurant? Poisoned food, a robbery in the wrong place, getting hit by a car or a hit and run on the sidewalk, a neon sign crashing down on his agent, an old woman sticking Tony with her knitting needles for being too smarmy - no, Gibbs decided determinedly, there would be no fast food for Tony tonight. He shook his head. "No, we'll make sandwiches. You do have the ingredients at home, right?"
"Sure I do," Tony answered and safely drove them down the street toward his apartment.
Gibbs was alert to any signs of danger on the road and nervously twitched whenever he thought Tony wasn't leaving enough space between cars. In the end, they arrived safely and made it inside without problems. He pulled Tony toward the stairs instead of letting him take the elevator and made sure to walk behind Tony to watch his ass- six. His back. To make sure he didn't fall down the stairs.
By the time they arrived at Tony's door, he was transfixed with the way his agent's "back" swayed in those jeans. One step, a crease beneath the left buttock, the next step, a crease beneath the right - but it was all part of being observant, watching out for his partner - and of course, being well adjusted with his own sexuality.
Gibbs had no problems at all. "Home sweet home," he commented and toed his shoes off, leaving them next to Tony's so Tony couldn't trip over them, brain himself and get a concussion. In the kitchen, they settled into a routine easily. Gibbs offered to slice anything that needed work with a knife, just to be on the safe side, while Tony left to take a shower - and then he took one, while Tony finished the sandwiches with the round butter knife. Gibbs borrowed spare clothes and they settled in front of the TV for the night. At least that was the overall plan.
Four beers and a couple of shots of some high-proof and most likely flammable, called something like 'you have to try that!' later, they were close to falling either asleep or off the couch.
"There's nacho sauce on your nose," Tony commented and pointed at the tip of his own nose. He smiled widely. Gibbs stuck out his tongue but wasn't flexible enough. He grunted.
"Did you know that it's impossible to lick your own elbow?" Gibbs said after another unsuccessful try to lick his own nose clean.
Tony shook his head and giggled. "I bet I can lick your elbow," he answered instead and leaned closer.
Gibbs frowned when he felt Tony's tongue swipe the nacho sauce from his nose. "That's not my elbow."
"I know," Tony answered with a happy grin. "But it's a lot closer to your mouth."
True. Gibbs hadn't seen it that way. How that connected the dot from elbow to nose to mouth, he wasn't quite sure, but it seemed logical. His thoughts meshed together when he felt Tony's lips hit his with drunken imprecision.
Gibbs woke the next morning in a strange bed, the sun already high up in the sky. He blinked a few times, before he realized that the terrible headache seemed to be directly related to his blinking. So he left his eyes shut and turned over, only to feel his nose connect with something warm and fleshy.
"Hm," he grumbled and slid his eyelids open again. There was Tony, they both appeared to be naked, and the bed wasn't Gibbs' - and he had a headache. He was sure he had a rule about what those facts amounted to, but his brain wasn't operating at full capacity yet.
"Boss?" came the muffled groan from his bedside companion. "I think... I won't come in today."
"That's okay, Tony," Gibbs replied and wrapped an arm around his agent. "I knew that already."
+