Lions and Tigers and Igigi, Oh My
Every other day is working well, so next chapter will be Thursday. Meanwhile, Tony and Gibbs need to talk.
Title: Lions and Tigers and Igigi, Oh My
Fandom: NCIS, Stargate SG1
Characters: Gibbs, Tony, Jack
Rating: TEEN (Gibbs/Tony)
Summary: Tony had never heard of goa'uld or tok'ra or igigi, and he sure as hell didn't know Gibbs had a passenger riding around in his head, but if Gibbs thinks one little alien parasite is going to make him go running, he has another thought coming. He's Gibbs' second, and that means he doesn't give up on his boss.
Parts One and Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
The new rooms were an improvement over the cell. The front room had a wide view of space, which seemed to be streaking by in a rainbow of blues, and several sitting areas. It also had an enormous pool with a water fountain and fish darting through waving strands of green. Off to the side and through an arch was an enormous bedroom with one bed, and a pile of blankets on the floor at the foot. Yep, Tony knew his role. Attached to the bedroom, Tony found a bathroom and a small study with a desk that had computer gadgets that Tony couldn’t understand.
Gibbs ignored all of it. He went straight to the pool and bent over like he was going to vomit. Samas came streaking out and immediately took after the closest school of fish, who all darted away. Some just didn’t dart away fast enough.
“Oh yeah, she’s a predator,” Tony agreed. He couldn’t imagine that pale wormy looking thing could ever hunt this way.
Gibbs glared at him, and it took Tony a second to figure out what he’d done wrong.
“He’s a predator.”
Gibbs grunted.
“Are we going to talk?”
“No. Calm him down if you want to follow Ba’al’s orders.” Gibbs gestured toward the pool.
“Boss, I follow your orders.”
“Clearly you don’t because you’re here after I ordered you to not put yourself at risk,” Gibbs slapped the edge of the pool, and Samas came swimming over. Gibbs stared down into the water and then dangled his fingers down into it. Samas twirled around him and then went darting after fish twice as fast.
“That’s not calming him,” Tony pointed out.
Gibbs grunted again, and stomped off toward the bathroom.
“It would help if you guys would talk a little more,” Tony said softly. He let his fingers dangle in the water, and Samas appeared out of some of the water plants, his/her mouth open to show all those teeth. He swam so that his back ran along Tony’s fingers. His skin was firm and smooth, but when Tony went to touch Samas with his fingers, Samas darted away and nipped at Tony. Drops of blood floated in the water, and Tony yanked his fingers out and stuck his finger in his mouth. Right, no petting the boss. Either boss. That was pretty clear. Samas came back and snapped at the water with Tony’s blood.
“That’s kinda gross,” Tony commented. Samas circled, and Tony put his other hand in the pool. Again, Samas rubbed along the back of his fingers.
“You know, petting you is too much temptation,” he said. Pulling his hand out, he quickly pulled his shoes off and rolled up his pants. Sitting on the low bench that surrounded the water, Tony dangled his feet in.
Immediately Samas wound around his ankles. “Boss, you okay?” Tony called. Gibbs didn’t have a woodworking shop, so he wasn’t sure what the man would do to try and unwind. “I could probably use a briefing before I go and say something stupid.”
“Too late,” Gibbs yelled from the other room.
Charming. Eventually Samas got tired of swimming around Tony and he started nipping at Tony. Tony jerked, and kicked water up into the air. Apparently petting was a no-go, but he was fine with Tony trying to kick him. Tony could almost feel the amusement rising from the water. At first, Tony was tentative, only half-heartedly kicking in Samas’ direction, but when he could never connected, he tried harder and harder. By the time Samas got tired of that and swam off, probably to terrorize more fish, Tony had splashed water all over himself and made a mess on the floor.
A little musical chime startled Tony, and he pulled his feet out of the water. The second time, he realized it was the door. “Um, come in?” he called. Nothing happened. Tony went over to explore the door, and something he touched made it come open. Four guards stood outside with staffs, and Tony held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, not challenging anyone here. The door made a noise.”
A young woman with a huge pile in her arms came in, and the door closed behind her.
“Is the queen here?” she whispered.
“In there,” Tony said, gesturing to the water. The girl’s eyes got comically large. “And don’t call Samas a queen. It’s just weird. He prefers to be called a ‘he.’”
“Should we address him as ‘my lord,’ then?” Tony opened his mouth to make a smartass remark, but it suddenly occurred to him that this girl was a slave. She wasn’t free and she probably wouldn’t understand his humor.
“That would work better than queen. Here, let me help you.” He took the bundle from her arms, surprised at how heavy it was.
“I brought several outfits. I saw your lord quickly, but I did not get a good sense of what he might wear that would be more appropriate than…” she trailed off, her gaze sliding to the floor.
“Hey, we appreciate that,” Tony hurried to reassure her. He put the pile on the nearest couch. When he turned, she had followed and was standing behind him. “We dressed to fit in on Earth. It looks a little strange here, doesn’t it?” He stripped off his wrinkled and splattered suit coat and tie, and she smiled as she nodded.
“A little, but your lord dresses you as he sees fit.”
“My lord shops at Sears. He doesn’t get to pick my outfits,” Tony said firmly. He started sorting through the pile, and he could pretty quickly sort things out. Leather, dark silks with an emphasis on black, and finely made apparel were in Gibbs’ pile. Simple, rough, homespun black and gray went in his. Given the lack of fabric, Ba’al intended to keep him half-naked. Subtle. “I’m sure Gibbs will find something he can wear.” Hopefully. They needed to pick their battles, and a poorly tailored suit from the Men’s Warehouse was not a hill to die on.
“Gibbs?” She was confused.
“The boss,” Tony explained. “Most of the time, I call Samas Gibbs because that’s the host’s name.”
“Ah.” Her eyes lit with understanding. “He is very good at hiding, and having his slave call him by the host’s name prevents you from accidentally revealing his presence. He must be very wise.”
“Right now, he’s very pissed,” Tony said. He shrugged. “Bosses. Sometimes they just have to get it out of their system.”
She nodded sadly. With a worried expression, she caught his hand. “We have healing creams and lotions if you need. You can ask any time.”
Tony’s stomach churned as he realized what she expected. His master was pissed, and she thought that meant he would take a beating. “Samas isn’t like that,” Tony said. He looked down at his bare feet. “Okay, so he nipped me a little, but he wouldn’t actually hurt me.”
She stared down at the tiny red marks on his water-wrinkled skin. “What of the host?”
“Gibbs? He’s locked himself in the bathroom.”
She shifted nervously.
“Did you need something else?”
“I have bands, but normally the master places them on his servant.” She reached into a pouch that hung from her belt and pulled out several black straps. “They mark the loyal servant,” she said as she reached up and touched her neck. Her collared neck. Great. Tony quickly spotted the cuffs on her wrists, and he guessed she had them on her ankles under the ‘fuck me’ boots. Given the way Ba’al dressed his women slaves, Tony should probably be grateful he got clothes at all.
“Samas does things a little differently,” Tony said. “Leave these here and I’ll try to get him to use them.”
“He wouldn’t want to mark you? What if someone else saw you and tried to claim you for his own?” She seemed honestly distressed at that.
“Actually, that has happened lots,” Tony said in a conspiratorial tone. Her eyes got big. “I bet you’ve heard that when I got here, I was on top of Samas.”
The girl blushed vivid red and nodded.
“Someone was trying to keep me away from Samas, so I jumped off these stairs and into the top of the ring transportation devise. I was falling when the light took us, so when we landed here, I landed on Gibbs.” Tony used his hands to show one falling splat on the other.
She giggled. “Truly?”
“Do you really think I could get away with falling on Gibbs with only a glare under normal circumstance?” Tony asked.
She shook her head.
“Damn right. He’d headslap me into the middle of next week.” Tony stopped. Christ. The girl looked at him with these huge eyes and she really believed Gibbs would hurt him. That’s the life she’d always had, and Tony suddenly didn’t know how to talk to her. She wasn’t some witness, she was a slave trapped on an alien ship.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit on the second couch, next to him. “But hey, Gibbs was okay with it because if I hadn’t fought to get to him, he would have killed to get back to me.” Her gaze darted over to the pool, but she didn’t comment. “I’m Tony,” he said.
“Antalia,” she offered, touching her chest.
“It’s really nice to meet you, Antalia, and it was really nice of you to bring us clothes so we wouldn’t look like freaks.” She ducked her head, and her long, black hair hid her face.
“Entertaining women already, DiNozzo?” Gibbs walked into the room, and Antalia tried to slide off the couch and to her knees, but Tony held her arm.
“Boss, this is Antalia. She works for Ba’al and she brought us some clothes so we wouldn’t stink quite so much.”
Gibbs gave Tony a long look, one normally reserved for those times when he was trying to figure out what Tony was up to.
“Antalia, this is Gibbs. He’s Samas’ host, although he was also kind of badass on his own long before Samas joined him. I think that’s why the two of them get along so well.”
“My lord,” Antalia said, keeping her head bowed low. “I live to serve.”
Tony watched Gibbs flinch.
“How about some food?” Tony asked brightly. “I’m starving, how about you, boss?”
Gibbs grunted.
“That’s his ‘hell yes, why haven’t you taken care of this already, DiNozzo,’ grunt,” Tony told Antalia in a conspiratorial tone, one slave to another.
“I shall send someone with food.” She stood and bowed deeply to Gibbs.
“You can come back any time,” Tony said. “Maybe after I find out which of those Samas likes?” he nodded toward the other couch. She looked at the pile of clothes and nodded.
“Of course, Tony.” She looked up and gave him a small smile before she bowed to Gibbs again and with a soft, “My lord,” she started backing out of the room. Gibbs watched her until she left and then he glared at Tony.
“I’m making friends, boss. You never know when a friend will come in handy. So, I have it on good authority that we look like freaks of nature in these clothes. I also have it on good authority that we will look like freaks in our new clothes, but we will be cleaner freaks.”
Gibbs frowned. “What happened to your suit?”
Tony looked down at the wrinkled mess. The water was totally going to stain his tie, and the pants… between the kneeling and the falling and the pool, they were unsalvageable. “Your better half felt like playing,” Tony said. “We splashed around a little.”
Gibbs looked toward the pool and then looked back with an expression that came close to horror.
“So Antalia did her best, but this is looking a little Ba’alish,” Tony said as he sorted clothes. He found a shirt that would show more fabric than skin and held it up. It was black silk and the simplest thing Antalia had brought, although it did have black symbols embroidered into the collar and down the front. On earth, Tony would have paid a couple of hundred dollars for a shirt like this. “What do you think?”
“I’m not wearing it.”
Tony sighed and dropped the shirt on the couch. “Boss, that was a damn good performance in there today, but you and I both know that the stick has to go with the carrot. Carrot, stick. Stick, carrot.” Tony put his hands out as though weighing something and then let the scales tip back and forth.
Gibbs moved over to the window. “This isn’t an interrogation, Tony. The damn species is dying. They want me to fix it.”
“Wait. Dying? Dying as in…”
Gibbs turned back around and looked at Tony. “The position of first slave is almost always reserved for someone who is destined to host. You would be Samas’ backup host I were damaged badly enough that he couldn’t heal me.”
“Yeah, I got that, boss. And if you were injured, I wouldn’t hesitate to take Samas, although I’d be a little more worried about saving you.”
Gibbs clenched his jaw as he looked around the room. “They’re never letting me leave this ship.”
“Then I’m never leaving with you,” Tony said. “Boss, we’re in this together.”
“I ordered you to stay behind.”
“Write me up,” Tony suggested with a shrug.
Before Tony could blink, Gibbs was across the room, spinning Tony and grabbing him from behind by the neck. Surprise made Tony swing, but Gibbs had him in a sleeper hold, and he forced Tony stomach down onto the couch and pinned him there. Tony’s heart pounded impossibly fast, and he finally forced himself to lie still under Gibbs’ body.
“This is what they expect, Tony. If you disobey, they expect me to force you to your knees, to discipline you, to rape you and beat you.”
“First, if you have to physically discipline me because I say something stupid, I’m not going to complain, boss. I’ve never complained about the headslaps, and sometimes those hurt.”
“Not the way it would hurt if I took a strap to your backside.”
Tony closed his eyes. “Okay, I know that. Just don’t ask me to sit still for it because I’m going to panic and strike out, so make sure you tie me to something first if it has to be done.”
That made Gibbs recoil as if burned. He retreated to the far side of the pool where he stood near the door to the bedroom and stared at Tony. Tony rubbed his neck as he sat up. “A slave just brought me slave clothes that don’t leave much to the imagination. I’m apparently sleeping in a pile of blankets on the floor at the foot of your big huge bed, and Ba’al just tried to confiscate my body. I do get it, boss.”
“Tony.” Gibbs voice came out strangled.
“Boss, it’s okay. I understand that I’m going to do something stupid to earn discipline eventually. Do it yourself and make sure I don’t have a chance to make it worse by fighting back, and I’ll get through fine. As far as rape, that would be difficult for you. You can’t be so clueless that you haven’t noticed that I’m attracted to you.”
“Samas has,” Gibbs admitted, and he looked like it was painful for him to say it.
“Right. So that’s not a problem. And as far as the slave duties-calming you down, running around after you when you’re smarter than the rest of us and two steps ahead, intercepting stupid people before you feel the need to kill them, and generally taking care of all the grunt work that you don’t have time for. Add to that the being on call twenty four hours a day, insane midnight calls, lack of sleep, and impossible expectations, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve been a slave for the last several years. Clearly I don’t have a problem with it since I’ve stuck around.”
“God damn it, Tony, I was trying to protect you from all this.”
“Gibbs, I’m happier here than I would be if I were still on Earth. Right now, Ziva and Tim are being eaten alive by guilt, wondering what they could have done or why they weren’t good enough to fix all this.”
“They don’t even know what happened,” Gibbs said.
Tony nodded. “Yeah, but they’re going to figure out that we’re gone, and Director Shepard is sharp enough to figure out that the Air Force doesn’t know where we went. That’s when the real guilt starts. That’s the sort of guilt that eats you alive from the inside.” Tony looked up at Gibbs and he let down all the masks and facades and shared a piece of the real him. “It would kill me, Gibbs. If I were in that cell right now, I wouldn’t give a shit about my career or O’Neill or the whole fucking planet, because I would be too busy with the guilt that was eating my soul.”
“Oh Tony.” Gibbs took several steps closer.
“You’re the first person to call me too good to waste, boss.”
Gibbs seemed frozen. He stared at Tony with an expression that even Tony couldn’t read. They stayed like that, silently staring and held in place by some emotion that neither controlled, until the door chime rang again.
“Get dinner set up out here. I’ll try the clothes,” Gibbs said. From him, it was as good as an apology or a declaration of love.
“On it, boss,” Tony agreed. Actually, if he just replaced the word “boss” with “master,” he really did have the slave gig down pretty well.