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Title: Lovers

 

Friday April 15 2005; The Navy Yard; DC; 8:00pm

 

Tony was in Abby’s lab risking his life by using her computer. She was territorial about her computers, obsessively so except when McGee was ordered to help. But he needed her computer for what he wanted to do and he at least knew what he was doing.

 

After he’d been interrogated by Gibbs in the Elevator he’d taken his lunch break to go home and scavenge for any evidence the killer may have left behind when stealing his back-up gun. Most of the prints had come back as his but a few had come back belonging to Daniel Willson.

 

Tony couldn’t believe his brother’s idiocy. Simply taking the second ‘l’ from Willson and changing Daniel to David identified him as the oldest son of Jonathan and Helen Wilson. As Daniel he had no criminal record, but David did; had one since he was sixteen.

 

What pissed Tony off the most was that David, whom he hadn’t seen in over two decades, had picked his lock and used his gun. The no privacy thing they had when they were younger did not still stand, none of the bonds they once had existed. Tony gritted his teeth. He was going to find David and he was going to ask him, “what the fuck!”

 

He sighed, rested his head in his hands and sighed again. Then he jumped as a hand dropped on his shoulder. Abby had caught him.

 

“Ok,” she started. “I know you’re stressed about,” she waved his hands, “this thing I’m not allowed to talk about, so I’ll let you off with a warning. But if you ever touch my computer again,” she paused for effect. “I’ll kill you.”

 

“Sure thing Abbs,” Tony said, grabbing the report on his brother he’d printed and taking off. He didn’t go up to the bullpen, he didn’t want to face the others if they were still there. He needed time to collect himself so he hid out in interrogation room three. Night had fallen more than an hour before.

 

What Tony didn’t realize though, but figured out as he started reading, was that he was exhausted. He’d wound himself up so tight that his body could no longer cope and was demanding rest. His focus was off, reading the same line slowly five times before noticing that it sounded awfully familiar.

 

Tony let the paper fall from his fingers, crossed his arms on the table and laid his head on his arms. He closed his eyes and knew nothing more.

 

When he woke he noticed he’d been moved to an inflatable mattress and a coat that wasn’t his had been draped over him. It took him a moment to remember where he was and once he did he wondered which of his coworkers had found him.

 

In the viewing room on the other side of the two way mirror Gibbs raised an eyebrow as Tony held up the jacket, his jacket, and sniffed it. Though he would never admit it most of what Tony did that was Tony interested him, some things more than others.

 

Gibbs had been the one to find Tony in an uncomfortable sleeping position, and the papers on the table. After getting the mattress he’d gone into the viewing to watch, watch as Tony tossed and turned, watched as Tony most likely relived in his dreams his life in the Wilson household.

 

Now he was watching Tony preen himself in the two way mirror oblivious to Gibbs’ presence and amusement. He’d put on Gibbs’ jacket like a security blanket, and it was a bit big on him.

 

“DINOZZO!” He smirked, satisfied as Tony jumped back, almost crashing into the table. He hadn’t been sure if his yell could be heard. “GET IN HERE.”

 

Tony dashed out of the interrogation room and into the viewing room. “Hey Boss. How long have you been there?” he asked casually but Gibbs, after years of being an investigator and fine tuning his gut, knew Tony was nervous.

 

“A while. The team has done a complete background check on the Wilsons, they know everything.”

 

“Everything?” Tony asked surprised.

 

Gibbs smirked, “Everything there is to know about your father, mother, and brothers, and even you until you disappeared. Records of Antonio Wilson ended when he was eleven and they couldn’t find anything else, except the gun registration.”

 

Tony sighed in relief, “I’m not ready to tell them yet.”

 

“I know Tony.” Gibbs smiled at the look he got from using the younger man’s first name. “I read the report you printed. If David is the one behind you mother’s murder, don’t you think you should give James a call?”

 

Tony opened his mouth to answer and faltered. How could he just call James up and tell him what’s happened? He hadn’t given much thought to James or David, or even their parents, in years. He wondered if James still thought of him, or if he cared at all.

 

He looked back up and was surprised to find Gibbs’ face inches from his. Their mouths joined together and once Tony got over his shock, he responded to the kiss. When they eventually parted a thin string of saliva still connected them, broken was a flick of Gibbs’ tongue.

 

“I cant.” he breathed.

 

Gibbs’ nodded, slightly saddened and walked past Tony.

 

Tony, realizing Gibbs’ took that the wrong way, stopped him at the door, “I meant telling my brother. I don’t want to talk to him.” He smiled brightly at Gibbs as he nodded, “The kissing thing, I can do.”

 

Friday April 15 2005; I-70 ; Unknown; 5:00pm

 

David, Daniel as he was now known as, looked over at the light haired brunette beside him trying to navigate the map in front of her face. She didn’t look to happy but David couldn’t help that.

 

“We’ve still got a while to go on this road. We’ll be going straight for hours.” She sighed and looked at him with pouting eyes, “Why couldn’t we have taken a plane?”

 

“Money,” he replied. He saw her negative reaction to his bluntness out of the corner of his eye and reached over to take her hand. Kissing the back of it he smiled at her before looking back at the road, “If I had bought plane tickets then I wouldn’t have been able to pamper you once we got there.”

 

This seemed to satisfy her as she leaned back in her seat and looked out the window. They drove in silence for several miles until they met a rest stop with a gas station. “You can stay here if you want. Relax, I wouldn’t want you to lift a finger if you don’t have to.” He kissed her cheek as she blushed.

 

David got out of the car and filled up the gas tank, avoiding facing the police car that was also there. He ducked into the building to pay his bill and talk to the attendant.

 

“Hey,” he greeted, paying cash for the gas.

 

“Hi,” the kid behind the counter returned.

 

David showed him a photo, “Have you seen this guy around? He goes by the name Jonathan Wilson.”

The kid shook his head, “No, sorry.”

 

Back at the car where his girlfriend had stayed, they kissed when David got in. As their lips locked they didn’t notice the policeman watching with narrowed eyes and snapping off a picture of both the car’s license plate and its occupants. He was back in his car when the two parted.

 

“Let’s go.” David said starting up the car. Julie Wilson smiled in response.


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