Lions and Tigers and Igigi, Oh My

[lit_gal]

Title: Lions and Tigers and Igigi, Oh My
Fandom: NCIS, Stargate SG1
Characters: Gibbs, Tony, Jack
Rating: SAFE (hints of coming Tony/Gibbs/other)

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

Tony followed the armed Airman into the secure area. His temper started to rise the first time they’d gone through a card scanner, but three scanners, one retinal scanner and a crapload of barred windows later, Tony’s fury rolled under his skin. They had Gibbs locked up tighter than a fucking terrorist, and if Jack O’Neill were here, Tony would give him a piece of his mind.

Instead Tony had two anonymous airmen escorting him through barren hallways. They reached a reinforced steel door and the airman pulled out yet another locking key card before swinging it open. There were stairs leading down, and all natural light vanished as Tony headed down into a holding area.

One more door at the bottom of the stairs, and Tony was in a short hall with cells off to either side. Each had a reinforced plastic front with narrow slits to allow air circulation and communication. Tony’s blood ran cold as he spotted Gibbs sitting on the edge of a bunk in the first cell.

“Boss.”

Gibbs grinned at him. “Usually you’re the one in trouble.”

“Yeah, that had occurred to me.” Tony looked over to where the two airmen stood watching. In addition to the live guards, cameras covered both ends of the hall. “You’re not breaking out of here, are you?”

“Nope,” Gibbs agreed.

“So, O’Neill and I came to an agreement.”

Immediately, Gibbs was on his feet. Tony hurried to explain it all before Gibbs completely lost his temper. The good news was that he wouldn’t be handing out headslaps from behind security plexiglass.

“I have agreed to help with the investigation. In return, they’ll keep you here safe until we figure out who’s hunting you. We can figure out the whole mess with O’Neill and Samas later, but this way, they aren’t going to try to drag Samas out until we can talk.”

“You’re not working with them,” Gibbs said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Someone’s hunting you, boss.”

“They won’t find me here. If you go out there, you don’t know who you’re up against.”

“Then tell me,” Tony practically begged. He respected his boss’s desire to be an uncommunicative bastard, but this was going a little too far. Gibbs’ body language shifted and Samas stood on the other side of the plexiglass barrier.

“I don’t know who would hunt me,” Samas said. “My people died centuries ago. I don’t even know how long ago. I know from O’Neill that the ones I fought—many are dead, but I don’t know which of the minor goa’uld have risen to join their ranks. Bastet, Thoth, Ixtab, Selvans… it could be that any one of them has survived and moved up in the ranks. It could be none of them. Goa’uld born after I vanished may have risen.”

Tony tilted his head to the side. Samas didn’t believe that was likely. Why? Tony might have asked, only the guards and cameras made him a little hesitant. Instead, he said, “That’s even more of a reason to figure out who’s doing this. O’Neill doesn’t have the investigative experience we do, not on planet.”

That was a guess, but it was a damn good one.

“No,” Samas said firmly. “Goa’uld are abominations. If one claims you, it will destroy your mind and lock you inside your own body.”

“And if one finds you, it’s going to kill you, boss.”

Samas shrugged. “Doubt it.” At that moment, Tony had no idea who he was talking to. Both Gibbs and Samas seemed pretty damn fatalistic.

“You can’t ask me to sit on my hands while these bozos try to figure out who’s after you.”

“They’re decorated officers.”

“How do you know?”

Gibbs slid forward again. “Because O’Neill only works with the best. I don’t want you involved.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Tony, you can’t fix this.”

“I could make a whole lot of noise,” Tony suggested.

Gibbs gave him a dirty look.

“Your call, boss. I can go figure this out or I can sit in another cell, hopefully one with cable, but I’m not going to go back to the office to pretend everything is okay. I won’t leave either of you.”

In a blink, Gibbs was gone and Samas stood there. “Your loyalty is gratifying, and it means more to Gibbs than he would say. But you cannot help me this way.”

Tony reined in his frustration. It was so like Gibbs to vanish the second emotions starting showing up. The man would rather deal with a psychotic serial killer than have a conversation about his feelings. “What should I do, Samas?”

“Go home,” Samas said, his voice sympathetic, even under the weird echo. “Keep an eye out for anyone who might target you. Call O’Neill if something seems suspicious.”

“Play bait?” Tony guessed.

“No,” Samas spit out the word like it tasted bad. “I do not want you to be bait at all. I only want you to be aware of the fact that others know we’re close. They may take an interest in you.”

“Take an interest?” Tony laughed. “The whole team knows I’ve stayed at your house a dozen times. For all our suspect knows, you’ve jumped out of Gibbs and into me.” Actually, now that Tony thought about it, that might be the best way to convince O’Neill that he was speaking to Gibbs. He could host Samas for a few hours and let Gibbs go kick O’Neill ass the old fashioned way. Of course, that would require Samas to come out of Gibbs, and Tony suspected that a well-placed bullet would be the end of thousands of years of life. Where the goa’uld couldn’t kill Samas, O’Neill might.

“They do not think that way,” Samas said. “By staying in the human body as long as they do and fusing their bodies to their host, they have given up any chance to move freely between hosts. Transferring is done only under dire circumstances.”

“Like nearly getting caught by the government,” Tony asked.

Samas give him a weary look that just looked wrong on Gibbs. Gibbs didn’t do weary. “You are not to go after these goa’uld. I have lost my whole family to these monsters, and I will not lose you.” Samas reached up and rested his palm against the plexiglass.

“If you won’t let me go out there, then I will be helping them from inside the base because I will not leave without you.”

“I doubt O’Neill will give you a choice. Gibbs has strong memories of him.” Samas tilted his head and considered Tony. “Sometimes you remind him a little of O’Neill in the way you construct masks that hide a core of steel. But understand this, he is a powerful man with powerful allies. I suspect he could call the President right now. Do not underestimate him.”

“I’m not,” Tony said. O’Neill jokes didn’t distract him from the gravity of the situation. Hell, normally he’d be answering joke for joke, but he’d lost his sense of humor sometime after he found out that a parasite had tried to take over his brain. “I take him seriously when he threatened to send me to Gitmo and then lose the paperwork.”

All emotion drained from Samas’ face. He stood, jaw clenching, as he stared at Tony. It took him some time to find words again. “What did you say?” Samas asked slowly.

“You’re assuming I said something?” Tony asked defensively.

“Yes,” Samas answered without a second of hesitation.

“Fine. I told him that I wouldn’t sign his confidentiality agreements until I saw you walk out.”

Samas turned away, and the body language slid into Gibbs, and now he was striding away. He got to the back wall and punched the brick.

“You should do that with drywall so you don’t hurt youself.”

Gibbs whirled around. “I have Samas to heal me. I have Samas to give me advice and keep me from headslapping you into the middle of the week. More than that, I’ve lived my life, and I don’t have regrets or people I’m leaving behind. Damn it, DiNozzo, stop putting yourself in hot water with me. If I boil, it’s because of my choices. I don’t want to see you dying out of some misplaced loyalty.”

Considering this was Gibbs, that was downright wordy. Tony took several breaths and mentally sorted through the varied and ridiculous assumptions. While Tony wanted to start with the insane idea that Gibbs didn’t deserve to live as much as Tony did, he knew better. Since Tony lacked a degree in psychiatry and a few dozen decades, he moved on to the next argument.

“You have Samas, but I have you. I trust you, which is why I came down here before walking through the gates with O’Neill. If you tell me that I cannot go out in the field, I will follow your orders, boss. I always have.”

“You didn’t stay at the office when I ordered you to,” Gibbs pointed out.

“I follow orders until I don’t,” Tony said with a shrug. “However, I will follow an order to stay on base. I will not, under any circumstances, walk away without you. We have had each other’s sixes for too long, boss. If I walked out of here and never saw you again, that would be a regret I couldn’t live with. You are the one person I can’t leave behind because there sure as hell isn’t anyone else who would notice me missing other than Ziva and Tim. Well, my maid would notice I hadn’t come in to mess up the house, but I don’t plan to stick around for the maid.”

“Damn it, DiNozzo.” Gibbs stopped and pressed his lips together. Oh yeah, he was mad.

The guard who had escorted Tony down stepped forward, his boots loud against the concrete floors. “Colonel O’Neill has sent a message, sir,” he said. “He wants you to return to the upper level so that a logistical team can get in here to place a bunk bed and desk in the largest cell at the end.”

Tony sucked in a breath. Well that was remarkably unsubtle. Tony looked over, but Gibbs had a blank expression carefully masking whatever he felt. Tony could hear a faint muttering from a radio, and the guard spoke again.

“Unless you would like a separate cell, in which case O’Neill said you could have your pick and linens would be delivered later.” The guard looked mildly confused, but Tony didn’t blame him. Usually you didn’t give prisoners these sorts of choices. Tony risked one more glance in Gibbs’ direction.

“The bunk beds will be fine,” Tony said.

The guard gave a curt nod and didn’t even pretend to pass on the message. Tony looked up at the cameras and gave O’Neill a quick wave.

“This way, sir.” The guard gestured toward the stairs. He was far more wary now that Tony had become a prisoner instead of a visitor. That was fine. Tony didn’t have any illusions about being able to break out of this place. He went where directed and hoped that when he got put in the same cell with Gibbs that the man didn’t headslap him hard enough to shake his brain loose.