Carl’s Gas Stop turned out to be gaudy in a way that Jethro anticipated Hell being, with a brightly painted exterior of orange and red. It seemed like an advertisement for fire, which made no sense given the fuel located just below the concrete. Deciding that obvious might not be the best choice this time, none of them were armed. Besides which, news traveled fast, so he was sure that Carl would know they had access to weapons.
Stephen took the lead, as he invariably did, and Frank walked on his other side. The three of them had decided to leave Abby behind mostly because of Carl’s apparent fondness for his cousin, the one that Abby seemed to remind him of. And even though she’d protested that not everyone was as devious as they were, all three had remained firm and she’d flounced off to complain to Tony.
Jethro had told Kate to keep an eye on her, just in case she decided to follow.
And now they faced a big, burly man in his late-fifties in overalls, with a shock of orange hair and a beard half-gone to silver. The inside of the shop was just as God-awful as the outside, a testament to the lack of female influence in Carl’s life.
“Mornin,’ boys. I thought I’d be seein’ you today,” Carl greeted.
Stephen held out a hand and replied, “Stephen Connor. It’s good to meet you, Carl.”
Jethro and Frank repeated the action with their own names before stepping back to let Stephen negotiate. He turned to look around the shop. A flood of memories hitting as he took in the rack of now-empty candy containers. As he took a closer look around the entire place, Jethro realized something about their possible business partner; he had a serious sweet tooth. Not only was there the empty candy rack, but pictures on the wall with various other wrappers and even box cutouts of advertisements tacked to the walls.
Hiding a grin, Jethro moved to lean against the wall and listen to the actual negotiations.
“Well, I can’t say that some doctorin’ wouldn’t go amiss,” Carl allowed. “I got a back that likes to go out on me, but that’s not near enough to count for the gas you need.”
Stephen nodded, looking sympathetic. “I understand completely. We could upgrade some of your equipment. A couple of our group knows their way around mechanics of all kinds.”
Carl’s hands spread in a helpless gesture as he replied, “I’m a mechanic, Stephen, what do I need other mechanics for?”
“How about a lifetime’s supply of fudge?” Jethro suggested mildly.
That got Carl’s attention. The big man instantly turned to Jethro and demanded, “What kind of fudge?”
Jethro shrugged. “What kind do you like?”
Carl literally licked his lips. “Honest? You’re not foolin?’”
“I’ll get you a sample and let you decide,” Jethro replied, pushing off the wall. “Why don’t you start working on the transportation details, though, because this fudge is so good, you’re going to give us more fuel than we asked for.”
Kate might not be able to cook worth a damn, but she made great fudge and had brought enough with her for the kids, including Tony and Abby.
Jethro grinned to himself at the gleam in Carl’s eye and the confusion on Stephen’s face, even as quickly as it smoothed away. It always felt good to keep the doctor on his toes.
* * * *
They did actually wind up with more fuel than asked for, which both amused and annoyed Stephen. He’d been all braced for the worst and in swept Jethro with fudge, of all things, to save the day. Still, it would get them on the road the following morning, which was all he truly cared about. They gassed up the vehicles and made a small camp just outside of the city, leaving behind all the fudge that Kate had made for the trip. He still found it hard to believe that Carl couldn’t find anyone to make him the confection instead of relying on a convoluted delivery system of Kate’s fudge, but then, he hadn’t tried it, either.
Maybe it really was that good.
Stephen had been ready to leave then and there, but Natalie had pulled him aside to suggest that Tony have a full night’s rest without being jostled around. One look at Tony’s face, pinched with pain even asleep, and he’d agreed.
“Stephen?”
Looking over at Miles’ soft call of his name, Stephen smiled and held up a hand. They’d found a park off the main road back to the highway and stopped there until the next day. It also gave the girls time to stretch their legs and it looked like most of the adults were doing the same. An impromptu game of tag had sprouted, though it didn’t look like there were many rules involved.
As Miles curled up over him, legs across Stephen’s thighs, cheek to chest, the only thing Stephen didn’t like was the way Jethro kept to himself. Something had been building all day, despite the other man’s victory at Carl’s. He knew Jethro was a bigger loner than most and that the forced company had to be grating on him, but had also figured on a longer fuse. It shouldn’t have taken so little time for the other’s mood to sour, not this badly at least.
Then again, he thought, it’s been coming for a lot longer than three days. It’s been building probably since the last time we fucked. The man takes the world on his shoulders when he doesn’t have to.
“Is Jethro okay?” Miles asked, lacing their fingers together.
Stephen kissed the top of his head and answered, “I was just wondering that myself.”
And then they got a pretty spectacular answer.
Abby apparently took it on herself to get Jethro to join in the game and wouldn’t take no for an answer. They were too far away to hear what he said to her, but the stricken expression that hit Abby’s face was impossible to miss. Ziva put an arm around Abby in an apparently protective gesture, making a retort to Jethro who jumped to his feet and snapped something back.
“Shit,” Stephen muttered, slapping him lightly on the ass. “Move, my boy.”
Miles immediately climbed off him.
Looking down at Miles, he ordered, “Stay put or go see how Tony’s doing. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle of Jethro’s bad mood.”
“Me either,” Miles replied fervently.
Stephen strode over to the rest of the group, but was too late. Jethro had already stormed off into the thicker part of the mini-forest. He took a quick look around the shocked and hurt faces and promised, “I’ll take care of it.”
“You want a gun?” Frank offered, seeming halfway serious.
Grimacing, Stephen shook his head and went after Jethro, but stopped first at the Rover for what he privately designated, ‘Gibbs Defusing Kit.’ It had lube, a facecloth to clean them up after, instant but extremely strong coffee, and a small whittling package. Anticipating more of a need for the lube and facecloth, he grabbed a bottle of water and doused the cloth before setting it back in the plastic bag.
Taking a breath, he headed into the woods.
* * * *
After what had just happened, Jethro wasn’t surprised that Stephen followed him into the woods off the road. He needed space and time to think before his head exploded. Always before, he’d been able to retreat to his basement and work on his boat, but that wasn’t an option anymore. And as much as he cared for everyone in their odd caravan, Jethro was about ready to strangle everyone except the kids and Tony.
He stopped in a clearing a short distance from the camp. After that outburst, he knew that no one save Stephen would dare follow him. At least they wouldn’t be interrupted for what was sure to be a decent shouting match. Leaning against a thick tree, Jethro watched, wary, as the other man appeared through the brush. Stephen was military trained, just like him, and they were about equal, physically, though the other man had the breadth of him and a slightly longer reach.
Even though he didn’t think it would come to a fight, Jethro wouldn’t be all that disappointed if it did.
“Get that out of your system?” Stephen questioned, dry. He tossed a plastic bag to the ground at Jethro’s feet and continued, “Anyone that you neglected to yell at? I’m pretty sure you didn’t quite drive Abby to tears.”
The anger that had been hounding him for the last week drained abruptly, leaving him tired and guilty. He sighed and said, “I’ll make it up to them.”
Stephen closed the distance between them and stared at him for a long moment before telling him, “You’re an ass sometimes, you know that?”
“The second B is for Bastard, didn’t you know?” Jethro countered, a grin briefly surfacing.
Leaning on the tree, a hand to either side of Jethro’s head, Stephen said softly, “We’re all stressed, but I think I can take care of at least one of your problems.”
Jethro rested his hands on Stephen’s forearms and challenged, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
Stephen bit lightly on the curve of Jethro’s throat and then licked up to the ear to murmur, “To get good and fucked. I even have lube.”
Jethro groaned when the other man’s hand shifted to grip him between the legs and squeezed, just shy of painful. As a doctor, of course Stephen knew all about limits, even if they hadn’t had a lot of time to explore them together in a more intimate fashion. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“I think we can manage to be quick about it,” Stephen replied, humor lacing his voice.
And then he pulled back just enough to change trajectory and kiss Jethro, lips insistent and tongue demanding entrance right away. Opening his mouth to it, Jethro kissed back just as hungrily, eager for more of this compelling man. Jethro bowed to no one, but Stephen came damn close.
They made short work of pants and Stephen turned him to face the tree, dropping to his knees to bury his face in Jethro’s ass. The slick invasion caused his fingers to dig into the tree bark, shivers running all through his body. He groaned softly, thinking that maybe Tony wasn’t the only one with an oral fixation. Stephen didn’t stay there long, unfortunately, substituting slicker fingers for the tongue and fucking him with them, preparing him efficiently and adding a third in short order.
Spreading his legs as far as the pants around his ankles allowed, Jethro rested his forehead on the rough wood. He felt strangely eager and reluctant at the same time. He knew all he had to say was ‘stop’ and Stephen would. Trust wasn’t the problem. Truthfully, he couldn’t figure out if there was a problem. His body certainly had no trouble with the proceedings; his dick ached and throbbed while the rest of him coiled tighter and tighter in anticipation.
Stephen pressed up full-length against him and nuzzled against the back of his throat as he quietly said, “I think I love you, Jay.”
Jethro’s fingers spasmed on the tree, his throat closed against answering in any way, shape, or fashion. Thankfully, Stephen didn’t seem to expect an answer. He instead slowly pushed his cock inside Jethro’s hole, moving carefully until he could go no further. The heavy weight of his balls pressed against Jethro’s, one more sensation determined to drive him crazy or push him over the edge. A shot of amusement hit him and he gasped, “No, not going to take long at all.”
Chuckling, Stephen pulled back just as slow as he’d gone in, but on the in-thrust, drove home hard. He set up a strong, steady pace, fucking Jethro in a way only one other had, but with more caring, more…love…He didn’t know what it might mean, but Jethro wasn’t so full-up on the love thing that he could, or would, throw Stephen’s words back in his face. He admired and liked the man too much to do so anyhow.
And then Stephen nailed his prostate and Jethro groaned, long and loud. If Stephen hadn’t held his hips tight, damage might have been done to very sensitive skin hitting the tree.
“God, you’re so fucking tight, Jethro! Tighter than Miles, and I didn’t think that was possible. That’s it, that’s it Jethro, feel me in you,” Stephen whispered against his ear, cock never even pausing. “Gonna fuck you for real when we get somewhere with a bed. Gonna make you come so hard you don’t feel the mattress under you. Maybe Miles and Tony will be all tied up, helpless to do anything except watch as I fuck you unconscious. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having our boys all safe and sound from the world, but not from us? Those firm bodies, soft skin, God, Miles’ ass is something else, isn’t it? I could fuck him for hours, if I had the time.”
The images in Jethro’s head were too much, coupled as they were with Stephen’s low, rough voice on top of the thick cock plunging in and out of him. One of Stephen’s hands took his dick and stroke it, making him come hard enough that he jerked violently and cried out in absolute pleasure. Stephen fucked him fast and hard then, coming moments later deep inside Jethro’s body.
They leaned on the tree, both panting, and Jethro relished the unique sensation of being completely surrounded by another man kissing his back and throat and anywhere within reach. Stan had been more of a wham, bam type and they’d only done it a couple of times with him on the bottom. It had technically satisfied Jethro, but not nearly as much as this too-short encounter with Stephen. He smirked as he flexed his ass muscles, provoking a groan from his…lover.
“We really need to try that with a bed,” Stephen sighed.
Jethro chuckled and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Nipping at Jethro’s ear, Stephen told him, “I’m pulling out now,” suiting actions to words right away. He gently pulled the cheeks apart and Jethro looked over his shoulder to see the other man peering inside him for some reason.
Jethro shook his head and observed, “You docs are a strange breed.”
“Just making sure you’re okay,” Stephen replied. “Although, if you can make jokes, you’re fine.”
They put themselves to rights with the help of a damp cloth Stephen had also had the foresight to bring in the plastic bag with the lube. Jethro was physically sore by the time they started the walk back, but lighter inside where it mattered.
All he had to do was figure out how to apologize to Abby without any caffeinated beverages.
Thankfully, the group had dispersed by the time they returned. Stephen rubbed his back before splitting off to Tony’s van. He spotted Abby and McGee a short distance from the camp, sitting on a blanket together and turned towards them. They both looked up at his approach but Abby held up a hand before he could say anything.
“You’re lucky that I’m such a forgiving Goddess or I might make you grovel a bit for forgiveness,” she informed him.
Jethro’s lips quirked as he replied, “Thank you, Abby. And, I am sorry.”
Saying so in front of McGee took a lot more from him than anticipated. Jethro never apologized unless he’d truly done something wrong. Hurting Abby’s feelings just because he had cabin fever numbered among the few transgressions that qualified.
She smiled up at him and replied, “Apology accepted, oh mortal one.”
A glance at McGee showed that others might not be so forgiving, but that was as it should be. Jethro nodded to the younger man before heading back to the others to make the rounds with Ziva at the top of the list.
* * * *
Kate woke with Ziva’s foot in
her face and grimaced, shoving the offending limb away. The other woman just
grunted and rolled over without waking. Kate snorted, thinking, So much for that
vaunted Israeli training.
Yawning and rubbing her eyes, Kate stood and stepped over Ziva, Ducky and Gerald in their sleeping bag, Jimmy, and finally Abby and McGee in their sleeping bag. The good thing about staying put was being able to stretch out for real sleep instead of being squashed in the vans. Now that they were less than a full day’s travel, she couldn’t wait to get there. Having been part of the Brigadier General’s security detail and flying around the territory for three years, staying in one place for too long just felt wrong to her.
She found a secluded spot to
take care of business all the while wishing for her wonderful bathroom with its
heated towel racks and sinfully deep tub. Living like this was for the birds,
but who knew if Vegas would be any better?
But first she would make sure her people were safe and sound in Vegas.
When she got back to the camp, everyone was still sound asleep except for Gibbs who sat on the hood of the Rover. It looked like he was…whittling something? As she got closer, Kate saw that was, indeed, the case. She blessed Connor’s foresight and greeted, “Morning, Gibbs.”
Gibbs nodded, not taking his eyes from the plank of wood. “Kate.”
“Should I start waking everyone?” she asked.
“Wait until dawn.”
“I’ll start coffee, then.”
“Thanks.”
“Not yours, ours. No one can drink yours.”
That got her a brief grin, though Gibbs didn’t actually look at her.
More than okay with that, a decaffeinated Gibbs was almost as bad as a decaffeinated Abby, Kate moved to stir up the fire so they could have some hot coffee for a change, even if it was instant. By the time others stirred to join her, the fire was going strong and she had a pot of coffee ready to be consumed.
Ziva and Ducky were the first to join her, followed by Frank and Stephen, the two men talking quietly as they sat and poured cups for themselves. It sounded very medical and she shared a grin with Ziva when Ducky offered his opinion on something Kate doubted that she’d be able to pronounce.
The rest of the group woke shortly after dawn, piling around the campfire in twos and singles as everyone chatted and ate dried fruit and energy bars. Kate could only be glad that they had another two or three days at most of such a limited and bland menu.
Kate was glad to see Gibbs move to Tony’s van. His outburst the day before had, and hadn’t, been extremely out of character. With the way he repressed everything, it had only been a matter of time before he exploded, though his timing could have been better. It went against both her better judgment and religion to condone a, well, foursome as a valid life choice, but she couldn’t argue with the results. Both Tony and Gibbs had become more stable upon entering into their relationship with Miles and Stephen, though in different ways. She respected all of them too much to make a deal about it and besides, who was she to judge when she couldn’t even find one man to be her partner?
It amused her sense of irony to
think that the
They were on the road by
It was a short fifteen minutes before they were back on the highway heading west. They were about twenty minutes outside the city when Kate spotted a roadblock of abandoned cars. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning and she called out, “Stephen? Take a look,” even as she brought the Rover to a stop.
He leaned forward and looked through the seats, out the windshield. “Radio?”
Kate reached to the glove compartment and pulled out the handheld, offering it over her shoulder.
Stephen took it and signaled, “Frank or Jethro, come back.”
Frank answered, “Here, Stephen. What’s up?”
“Might be trouble. Get armed,” Stephen told him.
“Got it,” Frank agreed.
Gibbs came on with, “We have no weapons in this van.”
Stephen cursed creatively for that oversight and then ordered, “Frank, take the rear. Jethro, batten down the hatches.”
“Roger that,” Gibbs replied.
Frank confirmed, “Roger.”
Stephen shook Miles awake and then turned to find something in the back. He came back with binoculars, peering out the front again. “Sonuvabitch! It’s a blockade, Kate. We’d have to ram them to get through it. I see semi-automatics and at least seven guys at various points.”
Looking at the big trucks and vans in the way, Kate answered, “Yeah, I don’t think so. What about going around?”
Stephen turned to look at the median and said, “That’s about the only way. Take it fast and stay low. Jethro, Frank? We’re going to pull an Abby. Go full throttle and don’t stop until we leave them behind.”
“Roger that,” Gibbs replied. “Anything else?”
Stephen answered grimly, “Just pray. They’ve all got semi-automatic weapons.”
The silence from the others was telling. Frank finally said, “Ready to go, Stephen.”
“Same here, Connor. Lead the way,” from Gibbs.
“Miles, get back here,” Stephen ordered.
Not needing to be asked twice, Miles climbed in back only to be told to keep going. Jimmy was also herded to the back area, which was far more sheltered with all the supplies.
Of course, if any of the spare gas tanks get shot, we’re all fucked, she thought darkly.
She heard him load one of the pistols climbing into the passenger’s seat beside her and took a breath. She put the gear in second and revved the engine a bit, balancing expertly with the clutch. The Rover had a lot of power and, while it wasn’t a racecar by any stretch, it could haul ass when needed, especially with the modifications Ducky had made over the last few months. Kate made a mental note never to tease Ducky about his hobbies ever again.
“Do it.”
Kate hit the gas and the Rover lurched forward, hitting twenty in about two seconds and they took the median at thirty-five as she smoothly shifted into third while pulling on more speed. She heard gunfire and the back, passenger’s side window shattered. She ignored all of it to concentrate on the bumpy terrain and the slam into and over the curb that jumped them onto the wrong side of the highway.
Fire slammed into her shoulder and she snarled wordlessly in pain, jerking into the steering wheel to momentarily loose control of the Rover. She forced herself upright and spun into the skid, bringing them around in a complete circle before straightening out again to fly down the highway.
Strong hands put pressure on the burning sensation and she cursed, “Fucker! Get off me!”
Miles snapped, “I have to stop the bleeding! Just drive, Kate!”
Ignoring him, she shifted into fifth gear and focused only on the obstacle course that the highway remained with its abandoned cars and trucks. It was a good twenty minutes later that Stephen’s hands gripped hers on the wheel and he ordered, “Slow down, Kate! We’re good now. It’s okay to stop now.”
Kate shook herself out of the zone and downshifted smoothly from fifth to fourth and so on until they stopped completely and she turned off the engine. Looking at Stephen, she announced, “Next time, you drive.”
And then the world went black.
* * * *
Stephen rushed around the Rover to the driver’s side where Miles and Jimmy were already pulling Kate from the front seat. He took Jimmy’s spot, putting an arm under Kate’s left side as he ordered, “Get a medkit in the back!”
Jimmy nodded silently and hurried back into the Rover.
Stephen and Miles lowered Kate to the pavement and he pulled aside the bandage that Miles had held in place while Kate had been driving and opened the shirt to expose the bullet wound. Fortunately, it was a through-and-though so they didn’t have to go looking for the bullet. It was probably lodged in the door, since the angle appeared to be down in a diagonal line.
“Good thing her arms were raised to the steering wheel,” Miles observed. “Might’ve gone through her forearm, too.”
Nodding agreement, Stephen accepted the bottle of disinfectant from Jimmy and poured it over the wound. Miles lifted her so Stephen could do the same with the exit wound. Stephen took Kate’s weight so Miles could take the needle that Jimmy had already threaded and stitch up the hole of jagged flesh. The bullet seemed to have been a fairly small caliber, all things considered, so maybe the rifles had been for show, without any ammo.
Once Miles knotted and then cut off the excess thread. By then, Jimmy had threaded another needle and Stephen switched off again. Miles and Jimmy supported Kate while Stephen closed the front of the shoulder wound. That done, he took the bandage roll from a worried-looking McGee who had suddenly appeared. He wrapped the wound up tight and pinned it in place, saving the tape for smaller injuries. The safety pins would be more than adequate.
Miles and Jimmy carefully lay Kate back on the pavement whereupon McGee covered her with a blanket.
Standing, Stephen ordered, “Give her antibiotics the moment she wakes up. I want to check everyone else.”
Miles, Jimmy, and McGee all nodded, looking a bit like a bobblehead doll Stephen had had as a kid. The thought didn’t quite make him smile as he went to see how the rest of their group had fared. Ducky was busy re-bandaging Tony, who seemed to have opened his wound somehow. Jethro sat by Tony’s head, holding one of their stricken lover’s hands and murmuring something into his ear. Abby hung over the back of the seat, looking as sober as Stephen had ever seen her.
Even though he knew Ducky to be more than capable, Stephen couldn’t stop himself from climbing inside the van to take a look. Ducky lifted the bandage so he could see what had happened; the staples had held, but the skin had pulled, which is what had caused the bleeding. Since it was relatively minor, though painful for Tony, Stephen nodded at the older man and left the van.
Moving on to the next van caused his teeth and jaw protest upon seeing Frank holding Maia, the little girl crying silent tears while Natalie stitched up a substantial gash on her collarbone. If it had been a couple of inches higher, her throat would have been cut.
Frank noticed him and said shortly, “The window shattered from a bullet.”
Glancing around the semi-circle, he saw other cuts on the adults but Teesha and Rachelle were unscathed. Kim stood right next to Frank at the opening to the van, each girl leaning on her.
“Kate was shot, but she’ll be okay,” Stephen reported. “And Tony reopened his wound slightly, but Ducky’s taking care of it.”
“We were lucky,” Natalie commented.
Stephen had to concur, even though it didn’t seem like it. Those bandits could have done serious damage, but hadn’t wasted what ammo they had, thank God. “I want to put a lot more space between us and them as soon as possible. I’m going to move Kate to this van. Eva? You can ride with us.”
The petite woman nodded, unusually silent. There was no time to make sure that she was all right, so Stephen made a mental note to check on her later. Walking back to the Rover, he found Kate already conscious and sitting in the backseat. Miles or Jimmy had created a makeshift sling for her. Haggard lines of pain etched into her otherwise pretty face and he ordered, “Take the damn pain pills!”
Shaking her head, Kate replied evenly, “I’ll be fine and we might need them for something worse down the line.”
When Stephen looked at Miles, the younger man said hastily, “She took the antibiotics, Stephen. If she doesn’t want the pain meds, I’m not going to force her.”
Stephen’s jaw cracked when he opened his mouth to snap, “Fine, but we’re not stopping for another couple of hours and we’re leaving in five minutes. Get to the back van.”
Frank would guilt her into lying down; he was good at the Jewish Mother thing. All Stephen managed to do was sound like a drill sergeant.
McGee practically jumped forward to help Kate down from the Rover, but Stephen waved him off and told Jimmy, “You help her back there. McGee, you’re with us. Make sure all the vans have weapons and then get your ass back here.”
“Yes, Boss!” McGee exclaimed, rushing off.
Stephen snorted and gave Miles a sidelong glance. “Think I should tell Jethro about that?”
“He might get jealous,” Miles replied, grinning briefly.
Walking over to Miles, Stephen pointed out, “It’d be fun to hold over McGee, though.”
Miles shook his head, seemingly amused as he wrapped his arms around Stephen and pressed close, asking, “Tony?”
“He’s fine,” Stephen promised. “Just tore his staples a little. Ducky patched him up and Jethro is right there.”
Pulling back, Miles suggested suddenly, “Why don’t we just pick some random place in the middle of nowhere and set up there? Some tiny little town far from civilization.”
Stephen could see the desperation in his lover’s dark eyes and cupped his face gently. “We’ll be fine, Miles. We’ll get to Vegas and everything will be fine. We’ll find somewhere to live that no one will care what we do with whom.”
“And live happily ever after?” Miles sighed.
Stephen kissed him briefly and confirmed, “Definitely. But right now we need to get moving.”
Miles stepped back just as McGee returned with Eva and reported, “Every van is armed, Stephen. Gibbs personally took two pistols and we gave another to Gerald.”
Eyebrows lifting in surprise, Stephen repeated, “Gerald?”
“Expert marksman,” McGee relayed, looking bemused. “Who knew?”
Miles half-grinned. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
Stephen winked at him, saying, “You would know, my boy.”
Clearing his throat, a delightful blush coloring his face, Miles muttered something under his breath and turned to climb into the Rover.
Eva moved to follow, but Stephen caught her arm and asked softly, “You okay?”
Lifting a tired hazel gaze to him, Eva answered, “Honestly? No. But I’ll be better when we get some distance from those maniacs.”
“I’m sorry to pull you from Natalie’s side, but…”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine, Stephen, really.”
He stared after her helplessly, unable to call her on it without causing a scene that neither of them truly wanted. He would have to trust that she knew her own limits. Stephen took the driver’s seat, ignoring the blood on the door and seat as he put on his seatbelt.
It was going to be a long damn trip to Vegas.
* * * *
The drive after the unprovoked attack was silent. No one knew why they’d been targeted, but that didn’t truly matter; it had happened and all they could do was move on. Ducky was worried more about everyone’s mental state, including his own, than the physical. Jethro and Tony took up the front seat of the van while Natalie drove and Gerald sat on the passenger’s side. Ducky wanted his lover at his side but understood how it was best to keep someone ready and able to shoot in an offensive position. Jethro was certainly in no condition to do so, despite his two new guns.
Ducky had far too much to think about the entire situation as the countryside rolled by. Tony had re-injured himself with all the jostling around they’d gone through during the high-speed getaway, which worried him greatly; the chance for infection grew with every setback. Even with Jethro sitting on the floor right beside him, there was only pain in the young man’s tightly drawn features.
And then there was poor Caitlyn, sitting beside him and doing her best not to look as if each bump and pothole didn’t run though her with excruciating pain. She was a remarkable woman that he would have felt quite fortunate to have as his own, had Gerald not claimed his heart before she’d even entered the picture. Their occasional flirtation did his old ego good, though, and he enjoyed their friendship immensely. He hated the helplessness that came with being unable to care properly for his unusual family.
His memories of before the Plague only made matters worse. He’d lived most of his life with the freedom to do as he’d pleased, so the stringent confines of the Alliance had chafed him raw, though he’d taken great pains not to show it. The young people in their group didn’t know better, but Jethro, Frank, and Stephen all did, though perhaps not as intimately as Ducky as all three had been in the military.
Sighing, Ducky looked out the window at the wild fields of tall grass beside the highway and thought longingly of the gentle rain of a Scottish summer night. He would never see his homeland again and that filled him with a sadness that took away his breath.
“Ducky? Are you all right?” Kate asked quietly.
He offered a brief smile as he glanced her way and replied, “Fine, my dear, thank you. What about yourself?”
Kate grimaced as she said, “In pain, but it’s tolerable.”
Eyebrow rising, he questioned, “Would you tell me if it weren’t?”
She quirked a smile his way and acquiesced, “Probably not, but it’s true in this case. I’ve actually been shot before, you know.”
Intrigued, he prompted, “Oh?”
Kate nodded and told him, “On protection detail for the Brigadier. Some lunatic decided he wanted to put an end to fascism with a Colt .45 and I got to take that bullet. Of course, my recovery was in a nice, soft hospital bed instead of a van, but that’s okay. I’ll live.”
“You took a bullet for the Brigadier?” Ducky repeated, startled.
With a somewhat rueful expression, she said, “What can I say? I was young and stupid. Just think, if I hadn’t, we could all have had a martial law-free life.”
Ducky pointed out, “Or someone worse could have taken his place.”
She made another face. “Don’t see how.”
Ducky patted her knee and
looked forward to find his lover giving him an odd look. He frowned at Gerald,
but the black man merely shrugged and turned to look out the windshield again.
Sighing once more, Ducky could only hope that they would find a better life in
It certainly couldn’t be any worse.
* * * *
When they next stopped, Ducky walked over to where Gerald stood at the side of the road, apparently staring at nothing. “Gerald? Is something wrong?”
Dark eyes met his as Gerald answered, “You like her.”
“Who, Kate?” Ducky asked, surprised. “Of course I do.”
Shaking his head, Gerald clarified, “As more than just a friend. I can see it, Doc, in how you look at her sometimes.”
Astounded that his lover would even entertain questions of how Ducky felt about him, he took the strong hands in his and stated, “I like Caitlyn, yes, but I love you. Gerald my boy, you’re everything to me and don’t ever forget that. It took a madman with a gun to make me admit that, but I have never once thought of anyone else since even before we became lovers.”
For a long moment, it seemed as though Gerald wouldn’t believe him. There was real doubt in the other man’s eyes and expression, as well as a heartbreaking need to believe. Ducky knew that he took his lover’s steadfast nature for granted, he was always so calm and self-possessed. He was forcibly reminded then and there that Gerald was young yet and their relationship the first real one he’d had. It had been part of the reason Ducky had been so hesitant to express himself at the start, when Gerald had admitted his orientation. In the DC climate, there was no such thing as a one-night stand for gays and lesbians. If you didn’t trust the person to whom you were attracted, acting on that attraction could land you in prison or worse.
Ducky released one of Gerald’s hands to cup his face and state, “I love you.”
Abject relief flashed across Gerald’s face at that and then his lips quirked in a rueful grin as he said, “Sorry, Ducky. I know that, I do, it’s just…hard, knowing you could have anyone you wanted. Hard to believe it’s me you want.”
It still startled him when Gerald said things like that. Grinning at him, Ducky pointed out, “I haven’t had that sort of effect on anyone in quite a number of years, Gerald, but thank you.”
Sliding his hand around to the back of Gerald’s neck, Ducky pulled him in for a soft, sweet kiss, pleased when Gerald responded. When the kiss broke off naturally, Gerald smiled that shy smile of his and said, “We should probably take care of some business while we have the chance.”
Ducky chuckled and commented, “I hope you’re talking about relieving ourselves, as I generally take longer than five minutes to do much of anything these days.”
Gerald gave him a wicked grin before saying, “Not with what I have in mind.”
Feeling a distinct stir of interest from below, Ducky allowed his younger lover to lead him off the side of the road towards a copse of trees.
* * * *
Jethro chuckled to himself as he saw Gerald lead Ducky off into the trees. It was good to see that happy expression on his friend’s face. Ducky too often took the weight of responsibility so much to heart that he neglected his own needs. At first glance, the two men seemed like an odd pair, but he’d been more than pleased when Ducky had told him about them. Gerald was good for Ducky, giving the older man someone to dote on and fuss over. And Gerald, naturally, was the perfect soul of patience for Ducky’s rambling, incessant storytelling even if earplugs helped on occasion.
“Where are they going?” Natalie asked curiously, coming to stand beside him.
Snorting, Jethro told her, “Somewhere private.”
She frowned at him a moment before the penny dropped and then she grinned. “I see. Do we need to worry about Ducky’s heart?”
“He’s going to outlive us all,” Jethro said dryly. “Something I can do for you?”
Sobering, Natalie told him, “Tony’s developed an infection.”
Jethro went completely still, shock rendering him motionless. He finally managed to snap, “In the five minutes I’ve been gone from his side?”
Shaking her head, Natalie explained, “It’s been simmering for a while, you just didn’t see the signs. I increased his antibiotics just now, which means you need to be prepared for him getting nauseas when we hit the road again. He needs to drink as much as possible to counteract the dehydrating effects, which means increased urination and that means moving around before he doesn’t have a catheter in place.”
Jethro could guess where this was going. “You want to put one in him.”
“I do,” she confirmed. “It will put much less stress on his injury if he’s not using a bedpan as he’s been doing. I also want to make a kind of bed for him in the back of the van. He’s probably hanging onto the seat when it gets bumpy, which uses muscles he shouldn’t be using.”
That much was true. Jethro had seen the grip Tony kept on the edge of the bench seat. Rubbing a hand over his head, Jethro spotted Stephen walking from the Rover to the middle van where Tony lay and called out, “Connor!”
Stephen immediately turned towards him, a frown growing as he took in their serious expressions. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to catheterize Tony,” Natalie informed him.
Jethro added, “And take out some of the supplies and the back bench to make a bed on the floor for him.”
Stephen sighed. “He’s got an infection?”
Natalie nodded.
Jethro did his best to keep his face neutral when Stephen looked at him. This was a medical decision, something he had to rely on them to do.
Finally, Stephen gave a reluctant nod and agreed, “Let’s start rearranging things.”
The next fifteen minutes were spent tying the back bench to the top of the van with Frank and McGee’s help. While they secured it, Natalie oversaw the redistribution of supplies between the Rover and second van. When Jethro entered the van, Tony was out cold from the antibiotics and painkillers.
Just as well, he thought. Tony would make a serious fuss about the damn catheter. And who the hell thinks to pack those things, anyhow?
Really damn good doctors, his inner critic threw back.
Which meant, of course, that Stephen had been anticipating a break for a long time. Whatever Stephen might think about his ability to plan, Jethro knew his lover for the thorough man he truly was, even for non-medical things.
He and Stephen carefully moved Tony from the seat to the newly made bed in back, comprised of three sets of sleeping bags and all their pillows. It was soft and comfortable and not going anywhere, so Tony wouldn’t feel the need to keep himself in place. There was also enough room for someone else to sit with him. Holding Tony’s hand as Stephen efficiently implanted the catheter, Jethro wished there was some way to preserve their lover’s dignity while still allowing his body to remain at rest.
Since there wasn’t, he simply stayed where he was, knowing that he needed to be there when Tony woke. Someone had to take the younger man’s ire and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be anyone but him.
Stephen massaged Jethro’s shoulder as he said softly, “He’ll heal faster like this, Jay.”
“I know,” Jethro agreed. “Won’t make it any easier when he realizes what we’ve done without his permission.”
“I could stay and…”
“No. No, we need to get going. I’ll take care of this.”
Stephen’s pale gaze regarded him intently for a long moment before he simply nodded and kissed the top of Jethro’s head on his way out.
Only twenty minutes after they’d started up again, the bag filled of its own volition, validating the need for it, since Tony didn’t even wake up. Worried that maybe there was more internal damage that Natalie hadn’t told them about, Jethro kept watch as an invisible battle began inside Tony, the beads of sweat indicating his rise in temperature.
Gripping Tony’s hand, Jethro brought it up to kiss the palm and murmur, “Come on, Tony. Fight this thing for me. You can do it.”
* * * *
Tony woke slowly, lethargy and heat suffocating him and an uncomfortable sensation in his dick that didn’t bode well. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was or why he’d even woken. He didn’t feel the van seat beneath him, which made no sense at all. The last thing he remembered was Natalie giving him horse pill sized antibiotics and painkillers and making him drink two bottles of water before letting him rest.
Someone shook his shoulder gentle and Gibbs said, “Tony, wake up. You need to drink something.”
That explained why he’d woken in the first place, but not where he was. Forcing his eyes open, he found Gibbs sitting next to him and managed a brief smile as he croaked, “You look like crap, Boss.”
Gibbs retorted, “Good to see you too, DiNozzo.”
The acidic tone was at complete odds with how he carefully lifted Tony’s head so he could drink down a bottle of juice. The tartness nearly overwhelmed his taste buds and he grimaced around the bottle, but finished it. When Gibbs took it away, he asked, “How long was I out?”
“Drink this first,” Gibbs ordered, picking up a water bottle. When Tony had finished that, Gibbs reported, “Six hours.”
It clicked, suddenly, what the problem with his dick was and he glared at Gibbs, accusing, “You didn’t even ask!”
Giving him that calm, imperturbable look, Gibbs answered, “You needed the sleep, Tony. Your body needs to rest and that’s what’s going to happen from here on out.”
“I get a say in it, Gibbs, it’s my body!” Tony snapped, starting to sit up only to be silenced by excruciating pain in his gut. Sinking back down, he panted and then groaned, “Fuck!”
“And that’s why we did it.”
There was no hint of satisfaction or triumph in the other man’s voice, which did nothing to mollify Tony. He glared at Gibbs and said, “You still should’ve asked.”
“You were out cold.”
“You should have waited!”
“Until when? After you pissed in your pants and wet the bed?”
The blunt statement made Tony flinch and look away.
Gibbs sighed and rested a hand on Tony’s chest as he promised, “If we could have avoided this, we would have, Tony. But just being in a moving vehicle is more stress than your body should go through. Not to mention any other high-speed getaways we might need to make. Plus the lack of being somewhere sterile. This is just one thing your body doesn’t need to worry about, okay?”
And even though all of that was logical, it didn’t stop the sense that he’d been manipulated yet again. So much in his life had been out of his control.
“I am sorry, Tony, but there was no choice.”
Finally looking back at Gibbs, Tony was startled at how tired the other man looked. Not just physically, but bone-deep weary, showing in his normally piercing blue eyes. Tony couldn’t stay mad at him and gave his own sigh. “I know. Hey, why don’t you join me down here for a few z’s?”
Gibbs look surprised, which meant he was really tired to let so much emotion show. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Tony gave his best ‘puppy-dog’ look and needled shamelessly, “It’ll make me feel better, if you do.”
Snorting, Gibbs muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “Every damn time,” but moved to lie down with him. Not strictly on the makeshift bed with him, Gibbs more rested along the edge, his head pillowed on Tony’s shoulder and an arm across Tony’s chest.
And even though he was still hot and achy and his stomach throbbed in time to his pulse, it no longer felt like he would fall off anything. That, combined with the comfort of his lover’s body against his own, did more than any pain pill could and Tony drifted back into sleep.
* * * *
Miles didn’t mind the crowded back seat so much once they switched off drivers and Stephen joined him. McGee took over the driving while Eva sat in the passenger’s seat and Jimmy snored softly against the other door. The back area was packed to the brim to make room for Tony in the van and sometimes it felt like something would come down on their heads if McGee stopped too short.
Stephen took his hand, lacing their fingers together as he asked, “How are you doing?”
Miles gave him a faint smile and answered, “Better now.”
Smiling, Stephen put his other
arm around Miles’ shoulder, tucking him in close. When Miles rested his head on
Stephen’s shoulder, the other man said, “We should reach
“Even if it’s not?” Miles asked hopefully.
Stephen chuckled, but shook his head. “Sorry kiddo. Most of the sleeping bags are with Tony right now, so we wouldn’t have enough to keep us warm.”
Miles grinned and he suggested, “Not even if we got inventive?”
“Not even,” Stephen confirmed, looking amused.
They lapsed into silence, but it was a comfortable one. For the first several months he’d been on the team, Miles had been terrified of making a mistake, petrified that he wouldn’t be worthy of the infamous Dr. Connor’s brilliance. It had taken too many grueling cases to realize that if Stephen hadn’t respected his abilities in the first place, he wouldn’t even have made the team, no matter what Natalie had said.
Now, he knew the other man better, but far from completely. There were parts of Stephen that remained hidden away, buried beneath trauma from service to a now defunct country and emotional scars from a dead sister and youthful arrogance. Despite that gap of knowledge, they had a solid basis of friendship and respect on top of the physical attraction. Miles didn’t know if that was enough for the long-term, on Stephen’s part anyhow, but he had every intention of doing whatever it took to keep his lover and make him as happy as possible whatever their circumstances.
“Deep thoughts?” Stephen prompted some time later.
Shrugging, Miles replied, “Just wondering about the future.”
“Anything in particular?”
Miles shook his head, denying, “Not really.”
“Hey. Talk to me,” Stephen ordered softly. “What’s going on?”
Not really wanting to get into a big relationship discussion with everyone else present, Miles demurred, “Later. When we’re in private.”
Stephen murmured, “Oh. That kind of future. Listen, Miles, nothing is going to change except we won’t have to hide anymore.”
Sometimes Stephen’s insight could be really annoying.
Grimacing, Miles insisted quietly, “Later, Stephen. Please.”
Stephen unexpectedly reached forward and pulled Miles onto his lap. Squawking in surprise, Miles gripped the seat for balance, even though he was firmly planted on Stephen’s thighs, and exclaimed, “Stephen!”
Wrapping his arms around Miles’ waist, Stephen informed him, “You, Tony, Jethro and I are going to find somewhere to live together. We’re going to probably snipe and argue a good deal of the time, as we already do, but we’re also going to love one another no matter what happens. I know you don’t have a lot of experience with positive relationship role models, but trust me when I say that we’re going to make it.”
Miles groaned in embarrassment, knowing everyone heard that since Stephen hadn’t even tried to keep his voice down. Burying his face against Stephen’s throat, he muttered, “You suck, Stephen.”
Chuckling, Stephen asked, “Hey, McGee. Do you care if I talk about this?”
“Talk about what? Tryin’ to drive here, Connor,” McGee answered.
Stephen prompted, “Eva? What about you?”
Looking back at them, Eva gave Stephen an annoyed look as she replied, “Why stop now?” and turned front again.
“And Jimmy’s asleep,” Stephen finished. “No one cares, Miles, except you and me. So tell me. What were you thinking about?”
“I hate it when you do this,” Miles said, sitting upright again.
Stephen flashed that slightly crooked, way too charming grin of his. “I know. Now speak before I toss you upside-down and spank it out of you.”
“I know. Tell me.”
Seeing the other man’s implacable expression, Miles sighed and admitted, barely audible for Stephen’s ear’s only, “I just don’t see how I’m enough for you. For the rest of our lives, I mean. There’ll be plenty of people and freedom in Vegas, unlike in DC, so why should you stick with any of us, let alone me?”
Which actually hadn’t been what he was thinking, not consciously at least, and Miles knew he looked as surprised as Stephen by the admission.
Stephen didn’t respond at first, clearly choosing his words with care. He finally said, “Ducky told me that Gerald had a similar insecurity earlier today. I think it’s sinking in to a lot of us that once we get there, the only thing that will keep us together is if we want to. That yes, there will be a lot of freedom to do whatever we want. He’s concerned about everyone’s state of mind and really, so am I, but the only ones I can truly affect are you, Tony, and Jethro because you’re the ones I love. You’re the ones I don’t want to be without, ever. I know you’ve had it rough, Miles. I know it’s hard for you to trust. All I can say is where we are doesn’t change how I feel about any of you.”
Moved by the firm words, Miles leaned against Stephen again, sliding an arm around his waist and pressing his lips to the other man’s throat before whispering, “Thanks, Stephen. I really needed to hear that.”
Stephen kissed the top of his head and said, “Not as much as I needed to say it.”