Chibi (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} chatona) wrote in ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} shorikurai,@ 2008-01-08 10:53:00 |
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| Current music: | Kane - Different Kind Of Knight |
| Entry tags: | !fiction, *ncis, *real person slash, ~chris kane, ~l. j. gibbs, ~tony dinozzo |
[fic] horses, freedom and cheap perfume
Title: horses, freedom and cheap perfume
Author: chatona
Fandom: NCIS / RPS
Disclaimer: None of the persons mentioned belong to me. I don't make any money with this.
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo, hints of Kane/DiNozzo
Rating: PG-13 for some swearing, some snogging and some innuendo.
Warning: Pure indulgence fic, no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
Word Count: 1.445 words
Written for: luthien82, because Michael Weatherly and Christian Kane once were in a movie together and she tells me these things.
A/N: Christian Kane is an American singer, songwriter and actor.
Tony takes one look at the suspect they just brought in and his lips curl up into a half-smile. He bites down on them to hide it. It draws Gibbs' attention to his mouth and he feels a wave of want surge through him. It's accompanied by curiosity and anger. Gibbs suppresses all three feelings. “What, DiNozzo?” he barks. Tony tilts his head the way he does when he tries to figure out if his next words are going to cause him any trouble. “I think you should let me interrogate him, boss. I'll know the right questions to ask.” Gibbs raises his eyebrows. “You know him,” he says. It's not a question. Tony just shrugs. “Yeah, I do.” He pauses and Gibbs just glares at him. “It won't be a problem, boss. Have I ever let my personal feelings interfere with the job?” Gibbs' first reaction is to affirm that; he swallows the words down and thinks about it. “Go on,” he utters grumpily. “I'll be watching.” “Tony!” the man stands up when Tony enters the room and moves as though to hug him. His voice is gravely and rough. Gibbs sees the grin spreading over Tony's features. “That's Special Agent DiNozzo for you right now, Mr Kane,” he says and Gibbs doesn't have to look to know Tony's eyes are twinkling. “Very subtle there, Mr Special Agent, Sir.” The two men share a grin. Tony flops down on the chair opposite of the suspect's and gestures for Kane to sit down as well. Gibbs spares a short glance for the file. Christian Kane, 33, singer and actor, it reads. “So, Chris, what did'ya do last Saturday?” There's a drawl to Tony's voice that Gibbs has never heard before. It's the same drawl that strongly laces Kane's every word. “Spent time with Steve. We wrote a new song and practised a bit. Having a gig soon, I'll mail you a ticket. I fell asleep for a bit and the fuckin' bastard braided my hair. Can you imagine?” It doesn't sound like an interrogation. Gibbs clenches his jaw and ignores the way Tony's eyes are focused on Kane, how Tony's whole body is turned towards Kane's. It reminds him of the way Tony looks at him. Tony's always been good at making the suspect feel at ease, extract information seemingly without trying, he tells himself. It does nothing to diminish the anger burning low in his gut. “Lemme guess,” Tony tilts his head, “You and Steve went to the Blue Baroon and got stupidly drunk, didn't you?” Chris laughs. “Jensen was there, too. You shoulda come, man.” “With you? Anytime!” Tony's voice drops low and Gibbs feels it all the way to his groin. He growls, but before he can demand Tony concentrate on the damn job, Tony shakes his head and shrugs. “Did you see this man?” he asks and pushes some pictures over the table to Kane. Kane looks at them intently for a moment, forehead wrinkled and head tilted. His hair brushes over his shoulder. Clearly, Kane never heard of a proper military haircut. “He was there, too. Asked Jensen for an autograph for his little sister and then sat at the bar and just stared at us. It was really creepy. He left with another guy, though” Both Gibbs and Tony straighten up at that. “Can you describe the other guy?” Tony asks, leans forward, all business now. “Tall, thin. Tatoos over his left arm down to the wrist. Short, black hair and he had this pinched look. Like he was constantly sucking on a lemon, I guess. That's all I remember, sorry.” Tony nods. “Thanks, Chris,” he says and his voice is low and intimate again. They both stand up and this time, there is a hug that keeps going for too long. Chris' hand is pressed into the small of Tony's back, entirely too low for Gibbs' taste. “So, care to tell me now why I had to come here?” Chris inquires once they've let go. “The guy who watched you guys? He's dead and he's a dead marine, so he's our business. Witness saw you near the alley where he was found.” “So I'm a suspect now?” “You should write a song about it,” Tony laughs and Chris joins in. “He didn't do it, boss. I know him and Steve and Jensen and if they went out drinking to the Blue Baroon there's no way any of them was sober enough to kill a marine. Plus, the bartender knows them. They played a gig there, once or twice.” Gibbs nods. He'll check the time frame and their alibi, but it seems sound for now. He takes Ziva with him to interview the bartender, leaves Tony with Abby. He can hear her squeal, “You never told me you knew Chris Kane, you bastard!” and hurries to leave. The case turns out to be simple, at the bar they see a man fitting the description Kane gave them and when they bring him in, the man cracks under Gibbs' glare within five minutes. Gibbs is glad when it's over and they don't have to bring in any witnesses for further questioning. He doesn't want to hear the name Kane ever again, if he can help it. “Boss!” Abby and Tony stand side by side, both wearing matching grins. Abby is bouncing, barely able to conceal her excitement. “Remember Chris Kane?” Tony asks and holds up three pieces of paper. Gibbs bites the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He remembers Kane all too well. “Guess what, Gibbs,” Abby beams at him, “Chris sent Tony three tickets to his gig tomorrow night! Tony and I thought you might like to come.” Tony tilts his head and holds Gibbs' gaze. “Consider it an attempt to teach you something about modern day music, boss. You're almost as bad when it comes to music as you are when it comes to movies. Can't have that.” Gibbs can think of better ways to spend his evening than listening to whatever noise Kane makes for a living. He thinks back to Kane's hand on Tony's back, just inches away from Tony's ass and to the way Tony looked at Kane. He snags the tickets from Tony's hands. “I'm going,” he says. No way he'll let Tony spend an entire evening alone with Kane. Abby's company won't be enough to keep him out of trouble. To Gibbs' annoyance, Kane (the band, of which Christian Kane happens to be the singer) is actually pretty good. The place is packed and the length of Tony's body is plastered to Gibbs' side. The mass moves and bounces and sings along. They lose Abby within minutes of the concert. Gibbs finds himself tapping his foot to the beat against his will. Someone pushes Tony from behind and Tony stumbles. Gibbs catches his shoulder and steadies him, wraps his arm around Tony's waist once Tony's found his footing again. “Boss, what...” Tony trails off, looking confused. Gibbs leans in to talk directly into Tony's ear. Up close, he can smell Tony's aftershave. His mouth is almost touching the skin of Tony's temple, his ear. “Someone's got to take care of you, DiNozzo. You need a keeper.” Tony just laughs at that, but he doesn't shrug off Gibbs' arm and even leans into the touch. In the break, Chris Kane and a guy named Steve wave them over to the bar and order shots. Gibbs watches the way Tony's throat works when he swallows. One of the band members suggests body shots. Tony and Chris stare each other and their shared grin makes something in Gibbs' stomach clench. “You can do body shots off me any time,” Chris says to the band member, but he's looking at Tony. “Unfortunately, we have to go back up there amuse the crowd.” He slaps Tony's back, “You coming back stage later, boy?” Before Tony can reply, they walk back to the stage and Gibbs feels something inside him snap. He spins Tony around, pushes him up against the bar counter and presses his lips against Tony's. Tony gasps, opens his mouth and Gibbs licks his way into Tony's mouth; he realises he's been itching to do this for weeks – hell, months – now and the jealousy in his gut only subsides when he feels Tony melt against him and Tony's arms come around him. At the back of his head, Gibbs can hear Kane's laugh, Kane's gravely voice singing about white horses, freedom and cheap perfume. Kane, Gibbs decides, isn't all that bad. |
