Tony DiNozzo was enjoying his drink and his conversation when he felt the weight of an additional wallet slide into his pocket and his conversational partner snuggled closer. "Don' look now, cher, but the Papa of whatever girl y' don' broke the heart of is headin' this way."
Tony used the mirror behind the bar to judge the truth of that statement. It wasn't that he didn't trust Remy. Well, he trusted him enough to be on his side in the inevitable bar fight, but he might just be fucking with him. "Oh, it's worse than that, sweetheart," Tony informed him. "That's my boss."
"Damn, cher. How y' get any work don' in that office of y'rs?"
Tony smirked. "I have control over my libido."
Remy smirked back, then whispered into Tony's ear. "Bet I can do somet'in' 'bout that. T'night. Less'n short, grey, an' mean says no."
Now, if Tony hadn't met several of Remy's exes he'd take offense to that on Gibbs' behalf. Gibbs drew up in front of him and raised a brow. "Remy LeBeau, meet my boss, LeRoy Jethro Gibbs."
"A pleasure," Remy practically purred.
Gibbs nodded a greeting in response and did not offer his hand. "I need you in the office. You sober enough to drive?"
Tony sighed. "Seriously, boss? Fine. Let me settle up."
"I got it, cher," Remy interrupted. "Y' jus' remember t' call m' when y' done wit' y' case. Plan on bein' in town f' awhile."
A ping of absolute fear shivered through Tony at that. Gibbs and Remy in the same town was a recipe for something explosive. Like two magnets colliding with Tony in the middle. "I'll take a ride, boss. I'm probably still legal, but I don't want to push it."
He could see the smirk in Gibbs' eyes as he nodded. "I'll meet you out front in ten. Nice to meet you." He nodded at Remy and left.
"So, that happened," Tony said. He rested his cheek on the top of Remy's head for a brief moment. "I'll catch up with you. And if you pay for the tab with my credit card, I will take it out in exchange."
"Might be interestin'." Remy held his hand up in the boyscout salute. "Promise I won't be usin' y'r card."
"Good enough."
Remy gave him a quick peck on the cheek and disentangled himself. He gestured for the bartender. "Another bourbon f' me an' anything he's been drinkin' goes on my tab."
"Of course, Mr. LeBeau," the bartender replied. He nodded to Tony. "I'll see you soon, Mr. Paddington." The bartender winked. He'd known Tony under several different names over the years and never seemed to forget which one he was using on a given night. Mutant power or damned good bartender? It could go either way. At any rate, no one who was working here would hear or see anything. Tony tugged Remy's ponytail.
"You be good and I'll make dessert for you."
"Remy'll be the soul of discretion."
That might even be true.
****
Tony settled into the passenger's seat of Gibbs' car and made sure his seatbelt was fastened, his coffee was securely closed, and the door was locked. Gibbs took off into traffic and Tony tried his very best not to get car-sick, grab the Jesus-bar, or have a heart attack as they cut off an 18-wheeler. "Normally you're more discrete," Gibbs stated.
"Don't need to be," Tony replied. "If you think your favorite little Goth doesn't know all of my secrets, you're dreaming."
Gibbs snorted. "Abby knows what you want her to know. Murder case. The Petty Officer with the hidden piercing."
"Did we get a lead?"
"Turns out her boyfriend just got back to port and went to look for her."
"How did we miss another boyfriend? We interviewed fifteen!"
Gibbs shrugged and swerved through another two car lengths. Tony swallowed hard and closed his eyes.
"Is this boyfriend at the Yard or are we going to Norfolk at this time of night?"
"I picked up your kit. We're heading to Norfolk. The boyfriend is sitting in the Commander's office waiting for us along with an MP."
"There something else I should know about this boyfriend?"
They sorted through details and hatched out their interrogation plan during the four hour drive that Gibbs somehow managed to shorten by an hour. Tony was sure that he hadn't prayed a novena in years before that.
****
Gibbs set a coffee on Tony's desk and leaned against what used to be Viv's desk. It was empty now that she'd been tossed back to the FBI with a "send to therapy" note and a stern lecture. Tony eyed the cup suspiciously. It smelled like French Vanilla and tasted like heaven. "What's wrong?" Tony asked flatly. They'd solved the case with the information they'd gleaned from Petty Officer Browings' sixteenth boyfriend and the murderer was being held for trial.
"You know that your boy's a crook," Gibbs stated.
"My CI is a criminal?" Tony widened his eyes comically. "No way."
Gibbs snorted. "That's not how we used to pay informants back in my day."
"I call bullshit." Tony sipped his coffee, now content. "And also, no, do not try to recruit me a playmate from the FBI again. They do not work out well and they don't listen when I try to tell them things."
"My place. Tomorrow. Bring beer."
Tony blinked as Gibbs stared at him. Oh. Oh shit no. He was not putting them in the same room voluntarily. Gibbs raised a brow. Tony never questioned how he knew what Gibbs wanted at any given time. "Right, Boss. Seven?"
"Yep. Paperwork's done. Go home, DiNozzo."
Tony didn't wait to be told twice. He grabbed his backpack and left the building. He dialed Remy on the way to the car. "Hey, Babe. You free tomorrow night?"
"Might could be? What's on offer?"
Tony settled in his car. "Beer. Steaks. And a crack at a Marine who may or may not be as straight as he thinks he is."
"Cher, I seen the way that man looks at y'r ass. He t'inks he's straight he's been takin' the good stuff from the evidence lockers."
“I don’t know. He has multiple ex-wives.”
“Didn’t figure him f’ a masochist. Only got the one wife, me, an’ she’s still fixin’ t’ kill me.”
“His salary would go so much farther if he didn’t have alimony payments.”
“Free t’night too. Got a nice suite wit’ room service an’ cable.”
Tony considered. “Sounds like fun. Let me run home and grab my kit.”
“Don’ f’get y’ handcuffs.”
“Tease.” Like handcuffs would actually hold either of them. Tony didn’t bother to ask which hotel Remy was at. There was only one that he’d bother to stay at when he wasn’t working. And their ability to avoid each other when they were working was one of the reasons the relationship lasted.
****
“Merci, Jake,” Remy was saying as he opened the suite door. It was a spacious suite with a separate bedroom, a kitchenette, a proper dining area for eight, and a living area with a sinful looking couch and flatscreen television. Tony put his coat in the front closet and slipped off his shoes while Remy tied up his phone call and added a note in his little black notebook. It looked strangely like the one he’d stolen from Tony the first time they’d met up after Tony graduated from the police academy.
He put the bottle of wine he'd bought onto the kitchen counter and poked through the cabinets until he could find the wine glasses. He set two on the counter next to the bottle and then opened the wine to let it breathe. Remy watched him with a fond smile. "Y' plannin' on gettin' me drunk and takin' advantage, cher?"
"I don't have to get you drunk for that," Tony replied. He stripped off his suit-jacket and hung it up in the front closet. That had the added benefit of showing off his holster. He knew Remy enjoyed the look, even if he didn't generally like cops. "No, this is to butter you up before I take you over to meet Gibbs off-duty tomorrow. I'm pretty sure there's going to be a shovel talk. And possibly an interrogation."
"So sad f' him that he got t' get his kicks that way." Remy gave Tony's cheek a kiss. "I got dinner on the way. I ain't cookin' in that oven. It ain't been cleaned t' Tante's standards and I ain't doin' it."
Tony wrapped Remy in a hug. They were pretty much the same height, so it was just a matter of tucking his mouth into the crook of Remy's shoulder where it met his neck and settling there for a moment. Remy's arms tightened to firm up the hug. They stayed that way for a long moment. Tony reveling in the fact that he didn't have to worry about his housing for the night. His actual home apartment was crap right now: No steady heating or cooling, the water occasionally decided to stop working, and his upstairs neighbor smoked pot on the fire escape. He worried about someone breaking into his place – even though the gossiping biddies would know who it was in half a second. But there were enough loose floorboards that he could hide at least six different identities, if he had to, even though he only had three sets right now.
"Come on, cher, y' tell ole Remy how he can make y' shoulders loosen."
Tony pulled back reluctantly. He hadn't realized that he was getting touch-starved like this. It was a bad sign that he was operating hyper-aware. Remy pulled him into the over-sized armchair as opposed to onto the couch. That seemed mostly so the Cajun could settle on his lap and tangle their legs together while they talked. "Two things, I think, as long as I can count on you meeting Gibbs tomorrow."
"Free steak and beer, non?"
"Yes."
"I'm in."
"Good." Tony kissed him just below his ear to see if he still shivered the way he used to. He did. Wonderful. "Then, I need an identity set that can stay active."
Remy was instantly more aware. "Somethin' actually happenin' or are y' getting pre-cog signals?"
Tony frowned. "I'm not sure?" he hazarded. "It's not like I've actually, you know, done a reading, but my nerves are twanging like there's something coming after me and I need to be able to run."
Remy nodded once, sharply, face grim. "Good enough as a readin' in my book. Tante's sure y' got some sort of Sight. Even if she is sad that it's been pushed towards the law. Could be right handy f' someone in my kind of work."
"Not my jurisdiction unless you piss off the Navy or the Marines," Tony said bluntly.
"That's m' favorite 'tec. Youngest on the force an' everyt'in'." Remy smirked at him with something like smug pride. "Y' know ole Remy takes full responsibility f' y' goin' t' the police academy."
Tony laughed at that. "Stop it. Anyway, we're both older and stupider now."
"Papers is easy. What's the second t'ing?"
"I need to actually relax and I think a nice quiet night of food, wine, cuddling, and sex is just the thing. Interested in helping me with that?"
"Might could be somet'in' Remy could do." Remy put on a mock-thinking face. "Oui. I t'ink so. We spend the night bein' friends wit' benefits and we lie outrageously t' y' boss when he asks how we met."
"Sounds perfect."
"F' now, we jus' sit here an' talk until y' shoulders ain't by y'r ears or the food comes, whichever happens first."
Tony smirked at him. "Let me tell you the story of Viv the FBI agent who isn't as emotionally stable as she claims."
****
It was much later, after food and wine, and conversation, that Tony and Remy were snuggled on the couch watching a black and white movie that neither of them were paying attention to. Remy's fingers trailed along the edge of Tony's jaw. "Now, I know y' got the Mob after y'."
Tony flushed. "Not so much if I stay out of Philly. Or I take over the operation. The Don isn't picky."
Remy giggled at that. "Oh, merde, cher, y' pick up more odd family member's than me."
"I haven't stolen myself a little sister yet."
"Ain't your Abby like that?"
Tony considered that, biting at his lip. Remy kissed that away. "Gut answer? No. She's Gibbs' daughter, but not my sister. She probably doesn't see it that way though."
Remy considered. "Why not?"
"I don't know. Instinct."
Remy considered pointing out that he was pretty sure Tony was a mutant and that his gut was actually a form of empathy or pre-cog. Then, he shoved the idea into a box and pushed it firmly to the back of his mind. If Tony didn't want to claim the status, he wasn't going to push it. "Good t' follow that. Kept y' out of some scrapes. Kept me out of some scrapes too."
He honestly didn't know what would have happened if Tony hadn't networked aggressively while he was recovering from his busted knee and found a doctor who was not only versed in mutants, but was willing to treat them normally. When Remy's powers had spiked and he'd brought a building down on him, Tony had pulled him out of the wreckage and spirited him off to his new doctor friend. She was a pretty woman called Jennifer and a prodigy of sorts.
She'd sorted his injuries and then badgered Tony into providing physiotherapy until Remy was back in fighting shape and capable of controlling his powers. Though the control had come with the need to adapt to a fairly radical therapy that had cut his corpus colosseum to prevent his seizures. Still, it had taught Tony that he was more than a jock and Remy that he could trust Tony to do what was right, even when it sucked. The celebration of their continued survival had become a ritual after that where they would meet in a town, drink, find willing bed-partners, and when both of them were feeling daring or broke, seeing who could collect more wallets. Tony always insisted on leaving the wallets in the lost and found though, which was why he wasn't a full-time thief.
"So, y'r in the market f' more family?" Remy asked.
Tony's arms tightened around him. "I don't know. I've got you. I've got Gibbs. I've got Steve."
"But somet'in' happened in Baltimore? Y' was pretty tight wit' Danny."
There was anger and grief in Tony's voice when he answered, "He was dirty. And he sold me out."
"Fucker." Remy tightened his grip. No one got to hurt one of his. And no goody-two-shoes was going to convince him not to make Danny Price's life in prison Hell.
"Do not get him killed."
"I ain't an assassin. Promise."
"I've met several of your exes. You have a type."
"Now, cher..."
"Promise?" Tony tried for little boy, and just ended up pouting adorably.
"Promise. He ain't gonna be killt because of me."
"There's a loophole there, but I'm going to ignore it. Enough self-reflection from me. How are you liking your new digs? Your sister's place?"
Something in Remy's heart thrilled at Tony's easy acceptance of Ororo as his sister. "Seems interestin' enough. There's a femme there that's got a problem wit' touchin'. And I met Dr. Hank McCoy."
"The furry blue doctor? The Avenger who retired? That Dr. Hank McCoy?"
"Oui. The very one that y' went babblin' about when y' were in that sports medicine class." Remy waved a hand. He couldn't be bothered to worry about what classes Tony had taken; only ones he was currently taking. Remy himself had defaulted to a Liberal Arts degree because nothing really appealed to him, but his father had very strict ideas about Remy staying in school for at least four years. Maybe it was just because it made a good cover.
"I hate you just the tiniest bit. You will introduce me right? At least over the phone or email?"
"Oui, cher-amore." Remy kissed Tony's temple. Mostly because it was the closest spot he could reach. "Now, the principal is dis uptight homme wit' pretty mahogany hair and an ass y' could bounce a quarter off of."
"And you think I have trouble with keeping my mind on my work?"
"He's almos' married, but that don't mean I can't look."
"True. Anyone else catch your eye?"
"Mais. There's le Wolverine."
"Jesus, Remy. No. You slept with his ex."
Remy smirked. "I done slept wit' more than one of his exes I expect. But I ain't gonna say not'in' more on that. I suppose Robert is cute enough, but he ain't really my type. And Warren's an asshole."
"Warren?" Tony prompted.
"Warren Worthington III."
"Oh. Him. The one with the cane. I remember seeing the report when he took over the company. I think Senior was pissed off that he couldn’t throw me at him."
Remy snorted. "He's straighter'n a speed square. I asked Scott 'bout it actually, since he known him f'ever. And Scott was drunk enough t' tell the trut' that he'd tried f' him, but was shot down. Accordin' t' Scott it was the nicest turn down he'd ever gotten."
Tony shook his head. "So, it's interesting. And you're going to be staying in New York?"
"F' now. Doin' good work there, what wit' all the political shit."
"Bullshit. You hate politics."
"Love me politicians though an' I ain't figured out which one t' try t' buy. I'm here lobbyin' y' know."
"Lobbying. For Mutant Rights?"
"Mais. After a fashion. Tryin' t' get the law t' recognize that if'n someone's a mutant an' they ain't used their powers in a crime, they shouldn't be held t' be armed. It ain't fair. A man mugs someone wit' a knife it's armed robbery. A kid pickpockets someone without violence an' happens t' have fire powers, it's armed robbery. That ain't right."
"No, it's not. Send me your promo information and I'll shake my wires too. Those pesky cop connections that you don't have."
"Merci." That required a thorough kissing in reward. Good behavior needed to be rewarded after all.
Tony broke the kiss after a few minutes. "Bed?"
Remy nodded. "I'll double-check the door. Y' get the lube out of m' kit."
"I love a man who comes prepared."
****
Remy took his time just reorienting himself to his lover's body. There were new scars that needed to be kissed, caressed, and gently lightened by a layer. His powers could debride scar tissue better than any laser. Tony's hands in return slid down and over Remy's body, seeking out the familiar scars, planes, and muscles. He lingered on the familiar raised scar on Remy's hip. It was a lovely fleur-de-lis that disguised a rather ugly surgery scar. They knew each other's bodies so well, that it was easy to get distracted by familiar memories.
"Cher," Remy said, dropping a kiss on Tony's chest, "If y' keep tracin' that, y' gonna make me crazy."
Tony just smirked. "Well, someday, I'll have to hold you down and try that." He stopped tracing the lines and moved on to counting Remy's spine bones. "And considering that I haven't seen you in a year, I think I'm being very good," the cop informed him. Remy kissed him to stop that nonsense in its tracks.
Once they were engaged in kissing and slotted together with their cocks nestled between them, Remy started to move his hips. He kept it subtle, but the slide and rub of their already more than half-aroused cocks was electric. Tony arched into the movement and pulled Remy down toward him with a broad hand between his shoulder blades. They ended their kiss only to trail mouths down necks and nuzzle into each other's hair. It was soft and hard and comforting and arousing all at once. This was sex at its most languorous pace. It was sensation and heat and gentle homecoming all at once. Familiar, but always welcome. The need for words was replaced by the need to practically crawl inside of each other. To find that home and safety and love that neither man would ever admit they needed.
Slow, torturous, and oh so good. Remy kept the pace slow and Tony matched him; a perfect dance partner in the club or in the bed. Eventually, his control broke. Short, fast, and hard. His hips snapped forward and back. Tony reached between their bodies and grasped both of their cocks in his hand. That tiny pressure was enough.
Sweet release exploded between them.
They lay, sweaty, sticky, and utterly content to stay that way, at least for the moment.
****
Eventually, Tony's brain ticked over into the practical. "If we don't at least get a little cleaned up, we are going to be miserable in the morning," he murmured. "Share the shower with me?"
"Mebbe. Once I find m' brain." Remy nuzzled sleepily at Tony's throat. "Want t' mark y'. Y' boss gonna give y' fits if'n I do?"
Tony smirked. "Don't care if he does."
"Good." Remy applied himself to nuzzling and sucking at the side of Tony's neck. Tony shivered under him.
"You better not be a vampire," Tony muttered.
Remy chuckled, low and rough. "Oh, cher. I introduce y' t' some, if y' want."
"No."
"But y' like this part so much." Remy bit firmly, but not to hurt, and Tony arched into the contact.
"Trust you," he murmured. "Shower. Then, snuggle and sleep. I'll even wash your hair."
"So sweet on me."
Tony smirked at him. "Off, dead-weight."
"Was that a crack about m' fillin' out?"
"Nope. It was crack at you being completely lazy after sex." Tony cajoled Remy into the shower, but didn't stop the Cajun from leaning on him. Remy nuzzled at Tony's throat while Tony cleaned them both up with gentle strokes. "Come on, leech," he murmured, "let me wash your hair." Tony snagged the bottle of shampoo and gentle massaged it in to the roots of the long auburn hair. "I sort of miss being able to keep my hair long," Tony murmured. He'd gone an entire year with long hair after he'd broken his leg. He hadn't had the energy to get a haircut when he was trying to rearrange his entire future. Remy had simply laughed at him and braided beads into a strand. It had been strangely freeing to not have to pretend to be the perfect prep. The girls had liked it too. Especially when he'd actually gone to the trouble of doing something special with it. Like the unfortunate adventure with a Mohawk.
Too soon they were clean and needed to separate to dry off before crawling back into the sinfully comfortable bed to snuggle. "I need to come up to meet your new crew," Tony murmured. "Won't be until we get a new probie though. Can't leave a two-man team down to one man."
Remy chuffed at him. "Stop makin' excuses. Y' come see me as soon as y' can. Or y' take over the mob in Philly an' come see me whenever y' want."
"That is not a tempting option, no matter how much you think it is."
"Cher, y' good at the job. An' I like y' better'n the don's lil' boy."
"You better not be trying to seduce Little Stevie."
"He's y' brother. I ain't int' that sort of thing."
"Does that mean I can't try my luck with your new sister?" Tony asked. He spun a hank of heavy wet hair around his finger.
"That depends on her. Now weren't we supposed t' be sleepin'? So we can get up in the morning an' have breakfast sex?"
"Genius."
****
Gibbs studied the two men on his doorstep before he gestured them to come in. LeBeau was well within DiNozzo's personal space and comfortable there. It didn't seem forced or rehearsed. And there was something in there that explained why DiNozzo sometimes seemed to be off-balance when he was just standing, but Gibbs didn't want to examine it too closely. Not when he couldn't pursue. He was a Reservist and the government was still short-sighted.
DiNozzo hung his jacket in the hall closet and put a hand out to do the same for his friend. LeBeau seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then offered up the battered trenchcoat. It seemed out of place with the quality of casual outfit under it. Gibbs noted the trust implied by giving up his mental armor and resolved not to make this evening too awkward.
"I just put the steaks on. Come get something to drink." Gibbs drew them through the kitchen to the back porch. It was still nice out, even though fall was starting to show up in the light.
"Smells delicious, M. Gibbs. Y' need any help with the fixin's?"
"Nope. I've got it all figured out. You two settle down and have a beer. And drop the mister."
"Merci. Call m' Remy." The polite façade felt like a front and Gibbs hid his smile. He'd never gotten to threaten his daughter's boyfriends. Maybe he should try it out on DiNozzo's instead. DiNozzo shot him a warning look. Gibbs smirked at him. He'd never had a working partner who could read him so well.
"So what brings you into town, Remy?"
Remy pulled a face that was one-hundred percent genuine. "Politics. More precisely, I been sent because I got a passing acquaintance with actual law enforcement types."
"Sent by?"
"Charles Xavier, Ph.D an' M.D. an' pain in m' ass."
"Your new boss?" DiNozzo confirmed. "Bald headed man who makes lots of political statements?"
"Oui. That's the homme." LeBeau was still wearing his sunglasses, even though the sun was fading.
Gibbs considered. "The Mutants' Rights activist?" Remy nodded. "I've heard rumors."
"Ole Remy loves rumors. Tell m' they juicy ones?"
Gibbs laughed at that. "More rumors that he has friends in very high places. And that he's possibly in a relationship with a pretty redhead."
LeBeau cracked up. "Merde. I tell Jeannie that folks t'ink she's Xavier's lover jus' so I can watch her beau's head explode. Merci!"
"So, the pretty redhead?"
"His assistant more like. And she's seein' her high school sweetheart. They got engaged mais six months back? Afore I met them. Non, pretty sure Xavier got his eyes set on his ole boyfriend. Even if they just bicker like an' ole married couple an' play chess."
"Part of me wants to be snarky about that, but it just sounds sweet," Tony half-complained. He made a face. "And I just had a vision of myself in forty years, if I live that long, trying to trip a boyfriend in the retirement home."
LeBeau patted DiNozzo's head with an insincere smile. "Dere. Dere. Cher, we practice chess in the mail an' I promise t' make sure y' end up in one of de good homes."
"If either of us makes it that far."
"Hush. Don' be so pessimistic in front of y' boss. He gon' t'ink y' fixin' t' get shot on his watch."
Gibbs frowned, but all he said was, "I'm going to pull the steaks." He didn't like thinking about DiNozzo getting hurt. Or getting old for that matter. But he did note that LeBeau deflected like a master interrogator himself and made a note to circle back onto what the young man was actually doing in town. "You can lose the shades, if you want," he said absently. "I've already seen your eyes."
That startled the young man. "Huh. Suppose y' did at that. It's habit mostly." He pushed his glasses up to the top of his head, holding back his bangs.
TBC