Sometimes the Box Bleeds, an NCIS/Without a Trace crossover by Glacis. No copyright infringement intended. Rated NC17. Spoilers through Shadows (WaT) and Missing (NCIS). Set in May 2004. Sequel to Control.

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He’d never missed his Aunt Bonnie more than he did at the family dinner after her funeral.

His nieces and his uncle formed their own unit of familial pain, one he’d been excluded from at the hospital, when he and Sam found Bonnie and brought her in. He’d understood then, and been thankful Sam had been there to hold him when he’d fallen apart. She hadn’t been the one he’d needed, but then, it never was.

Tony hadn’t answered his call that night. Not for another couple days. Martin did some digging and found out an NCIS agent had been murdered, and after a panicked thought that he couldn’t lose Tony, too, he’d been guiltily relieved to find out it was somebody else. Still, when Tony did call, he’d sounded like hell. It wasn’t much of a conversation.

Martin was helping his uncle with funeral arrangements at the time. He’d given Martin a disbelieving look when Martin jumped at the buzz from his silenced cell phone. Martin gave him an apologetic look and Uncle Roger shrugged; he knew Martin was an FBI agent and was never really off work.

What he didn’t need to know was that it wasn’t work calling. Martin looked at the caller ID and moved off to a corner of the room, out of ear-shot of his uncle and the funeral home director.

“Hey,” he said quietly into the phone.

“Hey,” Tony answered, sounding exhausted.

“You okay?” Martin asked, ruthlessly squashing his need to drive straight to DC and crawl into Tony’s lap.

“Yeah,” Tony answered after a short pause, then yelled off to the side of the phone, “Don’t touch that, Probie!”

“Sounds like you’re busy.” Martin didn’t want to hang up, even if he couldn’t actually talk.

“And you sound like you’re trying to be discreet. Did I catch you in the middle of something?” A hint of mischief shone through Tony’s voice. It was a relief. Martin almost smiled, the closest he’d come in days.

“Yeah,” he admitted sadly. Shaking his head, he asked, “Can I see you?”

“This weekend – oh, crap.” Muffled sounds came over the line then Tony was back, sounding disheartened again. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you as soon as I know, okay?”

“I may be out of touch for a little while,” Martin said quickly, before Tony could hang up. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

After another short pause that said a lot of things they couldn’t say out loud, Martin added, “Stay safe,” then ended the call. He tucked away his phone and rejoined his uncle.

Maple or mahogany. Open or closed. Lilies or roses. Decisions.

God.

He had no fucking idea. And he was numb.

“Martin?”

His father’s disapproving voice cut across his memory, and Martin took a deep breath, coming back to the present. His mother was carefully studying her wine glass, his uncle was off in his own world, his nieces looked like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were, and his father was glaring at him again.

He missed his Aunt Bonnie.

He missed Tony.

The weekend felt like a decade away. When his phone rang, Jack’s voice in his ear calling him in on a case felt like deliverance.

Three days later, on the firing range, he had to lower his weapon and take off his goggles and hold on to the railing so tightly he felt the wood creak beneath his hands. Images wouldn’t leave his mind no matter how hard he clamped down on them. They kept escaping, assaulting him, jabbing into his eyes and making his stomach roll and beating him until he had to look at them, didn’t have a choice.

Blood all over a motel room, a rapist dead and a husband nearly so. A little girl, a dirty bandage wrapped around her head where an ear should be. His aunt, lying on the grass, her face so white it looked like she was already dead. One at a time, he tried to isolate them, suppress them, lock them away and get on with it.

But they defeated him.

It felt as if his head was about to explode. Mechanically he left the rail, cleaned his gun, holstered it, turned in his ear protectors and goggles. He walked out into the sunshine that mocked him because the world should not be so fucking bright when little girls and women who anchor those around them and helpless husbands were all lost.

“Martin?”

Tony’s voice in his ear made him aware of the fact that he’d actually gotten it out and used it.

“Martin?”

Tony sounded more urgent now, and Martin tried to remember why he’d called, but all he could see was blood.

“Can I come down?” is all he could say.

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Tony asked.

No. “No. Gotta get away,” Martin mumbled, not sure he was understandable but incapable of much more.

“Key’s in your wallet, then, babe,” Tony told him gently. “Use it. I might be in late. Wait for me.”

“Yes,” Martin said, and closed the cell phone, heading for his car.

There were some days it was worth the cost to keep a car in the city. This was definitely one of them. It was already dark by the time he pulled in at Tony’s apartment building. Nearly two hours later before Tony walked in the door.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he started to say.

Martin had him cornered and kissed before he could finish the sentence. Oblivion never tasted sweeter. And it just got better.

Finally, he could stop thinking. Finally, he could feel again.

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Abby tapped at the keyboard and grinned, evil enjoyment written all over her face. McGee had given her a little present that afternoon, a ‘thank you for letting me sleep over and I’m so glad to be here permanently’ gift, and she’d immediately found a use for it. Tony would never know the reason McGee kept him busy half the afternoon, just as Ducky would never ask why Abby needed the key to Tony’s apartment that Ducky inexplicably had.

Some secrets should never be revealed. She giggled silently.

The screen above her cleared and the giggle suddenly got a lot louder. Perfect! The micro miniature wireless bug McGee gave her was up and running. It gave a full 180 shot of Tony’s bedroom, video and audio coming in with crystal clarity.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” Cait told her from the doorway.

If Abby wasn’t hardened to being sneaked up on from years with Gibbs, they would have had to scrape her off the ceiling. As it was, she turned the full power of her grin on Cait, who grinned right back.

“So, you want to tell me what Operation Distract DiNozzo was all about?” she asked as she walked over to join Abby.

“You got it,” Abby told her, gesturing up at the screen. She’d picked the one that kept her back to the wall so nobody could actually see what she was looking at until they walked around to join her. Cait looked confused.

“Surveillance?” she asked.

“Uh-huh!” Abby nodded enthusiastically.

Cait sounded as confused as she looked. “Of an empty room?”

“Not empty for long,” Abby cackled as evilly as she could, which was pretty darned evilly. “Bring your popcorn. We’re about to find out what Tony gets up to on his long lonely nights.”

Cait’s nose wrinkled. “Ew. I’m not sure I want to know…”

“C’mon, Cait,” Abby wheedled, grinning at her. “You know it’s nothing exciting – it’s Tony here! But think of all the ammunition we can get… Tony’s bound to do something embarrassing. It is Tony, after all.”

Cait grinned in return. “Good point. Let the Tony Tease Fest begin. Five bucks he takes a stuffed animal to bed with him.”

Just then, there was movement on the screen.

“Woah.”

Abby wasn’t sure if she said it or Cait did. She couldn’t look away long enough to find out.

Tony wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t with a stuffed animal, though if he had been, Abby would have gotten months of Furry teasing out of it.

No, Tony was with a person. A guy person. A kind of short, really cute, really well built, totally naked guy person with an ass to die for that had what looked an awful lot like a hand-print on the right cheek. And fingerprint bruises on his thighs. And scratches running down his back. Who had jerked Tony into the room, a Tony who was also totally naked and a lot hairier than Abby had expected and it really looked good on him. Then the naked stranger pushed Tony back against the wall and dropped down to his knees between Tony’s feet and took Tony’s cock all the way down his throat.

From the sounds Tony was making, the guy was a pretty damned good cocksucker.

“Holy cow,” Cait whispered.

“He’s pretty,” Abby whispered back, then gurgled, because Tony now had his hands wrapped in the guy’s hair and was fucking his face like there was no tomorrow.

Who knew Tony was such a tiger?

It lasted longer than Abby expected it would, given the enthusiasm both guys displayed, so Tony must have had more experience getting blown than Abby expected, because if a guy was going down on her with that much hunger she wouldn’t have lasted long at all. But Tony did, and when he tossed his head back and pushed his hips forward, the guy hung on, until Tony shuddered and started to melt down the wall.

“Oh, my,” Cait said faintly. Abby felt the air move a little and glanced over long enough to see that Cait was fanning herself. She grinned and looked back at the screen.

Sweat was glistening on Tony’s skin, and it made him look a lot hotter than Abby thought possible. The other guy was pretty hot, too, his skin flushed and sweaty, and Abby leaned forward to look a little closer.

Yup, they’d been fucking, there was come on the back of the guy’s thighs, and wow, that was a lot hotter than she expected, because it was Tony, and Tony wasn’t supposed to fuck guys.

No wonder it was so hot. Take the usual behaviors out of a situation and introduce an absolutely unexpected variable and it’s a whole new ballgame. Kind of like forensics. Only, you know, alive. Very alive.

The guy was leaning over Tony now, and Tony’s hands were on his shoulders, and they were kissing, and Abby felt her breath catch. This wasn’t a casual fuck.

These two were lovers.

They took their time, hands kneading and roaming all over, legs rubbing against each other, and the guy could kiss, because by the time he let Tony have some air and started sucking on Tony’s neck, Tony looked like he was stoned out of his mind.

No wonder. The guy could kiss as good as, if not better than, he sucked cock.

Abby reached out and grabbed Cait’s wrist, redirecting the air flow so Cait was fanning her, too. Cait chuckled, and Abby tore her eyes away from the kissing men to grin at her.

“Who knew?” Abby asked.

“Not me! Though it makes sense, now, him tangling tongues with that transvestite with so much enthusiasm…”

They both giggled, feeling a little giddy, then more sound from the screen caught their attention.

Tony was on the bed now, sprawled bonelessly with his legs spread, and Abby muttered, “Slut!” affectionately as Kate gasped beside her.

They watched avidly as the guy moved up between Tony’s legs, kissing him on the belly and the thigh and the knee before shifting Tony’s legs up and settling down into him.

All the way into him.

Tony’s head went back on the pillow and he made a sound like a curse or maybe a wail, Abby couldn’t be sure, what with the way the guy had his fingers in Tony’s mouth. Then the guy was moving his hips, his ass clenching as he thrust into Tony, and yeah, it was a handprint on his ass cheek, just starting to bruise.

God. Hot.

Cait gasped again, and Abby wondered for a split second if Cait might consider a little mutual assistance in the light of all this guy-on-guy hotness, when Cait said something.

“Huh?” Abby asked, not sure she heard right.

“I know him!” Cait said again, sounding strangled. From the look on her face Abby couldn’t tell if Cait was about to crack up again or pass out. “He’s FBI! Out of New York! Missing persons! We had a case together!” With every word her voice got smaller, until it sounded like she was about to hyperventilate.

“Huh,” Abby said again. A memory struck and she mused aloud, “I told him to go find a local cop and get a dance routine started. I didn’t think he’d take me literally.”

That tipped the balance for Cait, who laughed helplessly. Abby gave her another grin, but was drawn back into the action on the screen. Tony was coming again, and the other guy was arching into him, pumping and holding, swiveling his hips, then pumping and holding again. Nice technique, Abby thought, wondering if the guys would like to share.

Then the guy finished up, and Tony did something Abby really didn’t expect. After pulling the guy up to face him, and kissing him until they were both boneless (Abby being not far behind them), Tony… cuddled the guy. And talked to him.

Abby glanced over at Cait, who was watching the screen intently, looking surprised. “Never would have taken Tony for a cuddler.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed, then turned up the volume just enough that they could make out the men’s conversation without blaring it all over the lab. Although Ducky would no doubt appreciate it if she did.

“Can you tell me what’s bothering you so badly?” Tony asked.

Abby’s brows rose. Never, ever had she heard Tony sound so gentle with anybody. She knew Tony had some depths to him, he never would have made it this far on Gibbs’ team if he didn’t, but this was new. Beside her, Cait shifted closer and leaned in to listen.

The guy burrowed deeper in Tony’s arms. It looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. Tony stroked the guy’s hair tenderly for a long moment, then said quietly, “You don’t have to say anything, babe.”

Babe? Abby mouthed. Okay. Much tighter than any casual fuck, for sure.

“Sometimes the box bleeds,” the guy finally said, so softly she almost missed it.

Abby exchanged a concerned look with Cait. Bleeding boxes? What kind of nut case was this FBI guy?

“Ah, Martin,” Tony sighed, sounding like his heart was breaking. Abby felt herself choke up. “Let it out, babe. Just let it out.”

And the guy, Martin, did. Abby felt her fists clench at the broken words that Martin whispered against Tony’s chest. She couldn’t hear all of it, but going by the sadness in Tony’s face, that was just as well. What she did hear was enough. They spoke of a life spent ruthlessly suppressing pain and fear because it was What Was Done or What Was Needed, his job or his family or his entire fucking life.

“Viv said you stuff it in a box and lock it up and keep on going. But sometimes the box bleeds.” Martin’s muffled voice ached in Abby’s ears.

She felt her eyes tear up. God. Bad enough being a closeted cop. Being a closeted FBI agent? Sleeping with an NCIS agent? And from the sound of it, one who’d seen more than his fair share of horrible things recently. And lost his mom, or somebody who might as well have been his mom, from the way he talked about her to Tony.

“You can let it go with me,” Tony told Martin, nuzzling his ear and his neck and his shoulder then pulling back so he could look Martin right in the eye. “You can always let it go with me.”

Martin’s words were clear for the first time since he started talking. “Sometimes I think that’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”

Tony kissed him. Abby wanted to, too.

Apparently emotional purging was a turn-on for Tony, because that’s when Abby noticed he was hard again. Martin noticed it at the same time and squirmed against Tony, rising up over him, reaching back behind himself and wrapping a hand around Tony’s dick. Then he lifted up and, with another squirm and a wiggle Abby would have rated triple-X, he sat down on Tony’s dick.

Slowly. Inch at a time.

Skin and more sweat and Tony’s hands looked so dark against the skin of Martin’s back, and they were kissing again, Tony straining up and Martin reaching down until their mouths met and moved like their hips did and Cait was right, Holy Cow…

The heat was insane.

A hand moved in front of her and, with a click, Cait pressed the button that turned off the monitor. Abby turned to look at her. Cait was staring at the blank screen with what looked like shock.

“I wonder what got into him?” Cait mumbled, finally looking at Abby. Her pupils were dilated.

Abby grinned wickedly. “More like what he’s gotten into!”

Cait stared at her in appalled silence for a good two seconds then cracked up completely. Abby couldn’t help it. It was contagious.

Eventually they calmed down, and Cait got up, shaking her head. Abby was disappointed but Cait ignored her pout with another smile.

“I think I need to go lie down,” Cait told her. “Thanks for the show.”

With another giggle, she walked a little unsteadily out the door. Abby watched her go appreciatively, sighed, then reached up and turned the monitor back on.

“Yeah,” she murmured agreement with Cait, “me too.” She settled comfortably back on her stool to watch the action, one foot propped handily on the bar beneath the stool, one hand inching up between her thighs, a naughty grin on her face.

McGee wouldn’t be ready to go home for another couple hours, and a girl had to do something to while away the time until she could get some.

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Monday mid-morning, Martin found himself back at the firing range. This time, there were no images disturbing his concentration. There was only the rhythm of the gun, squeeze the trigger, put the bullet in the target, concentrate, focus, get it done.

The box was closed. The blood was gone. It would stay that way. Until the next time he needed to get away. To go to Tony.

The next time he could go home.

END

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