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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1,919
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1/1
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Bottled

Summary:

Gibbs finds his destiny in a very special bottle.

Work Text:

Jethro Gibbs still didn’t know how it had happened. He had to be dead because this sort of thing didn’t happen to anyone he knew, and definitely not to him.

 

He fingered the card, amazed that he hadn’t crumpled it into a ball, even though he’d considered it. More than once.

 

Congratulations, Leroy J. Gibbs. You have been chosen to receive this ancient gift. As master of what is inside, you may exert complete control over its contents until you have no more need of it.

 

Congratulations again. You’re a very lucky man. Make all your fantasies come true.

 

Gibbs had Abby and McGee go over the card with every technique they knew, but the creamy and very expensive card stock had revealed very little. Nobody could even see the writing on it except him. He knew this was tied in to the Iraqi antiquities case they’d broken recently, but he hadn’t worked out how or what it all meant.

 

He didn’t believe in this mysterious crap, but he couldn’t get rid of the bottle without pissing a lot of people off, and he was on Director Morrow’s shit list anyway. So the bottle had sat on his desk for weeks, the deep green crystal catching the light and fascinating Gibbs, though he would never admit it to anyone. Every time Stan walked by his desk, he rolled his eyes, and Gibbs found himself feeling exactly the same way.

 

It was two weeks after the antiquities case had ended, and the bottle seemed to be a permanent fixture on his desk. They’d just wrapped another case and he was exhausted, but he had to get the reports completed before he’d head home for some quality time with bourbon and his boat.

 

Gibbs tossed his glasses on the desk, rubbing his hand over his itching and burning eyes. Too many late nights and too much squinting had exhausted him, causing a headache to form behind his right eye. As he reached for the glasses, his hand brushed over the bottle and it wobbled, falling off his desk. Gibbs lunged for it, dragging it back. It rolled to a stop on his desk, the stopper coming out with a plop.

 

When he’d been given it, Gibbs had examined the bottle as well as he could, studying it inside and out. There had been no contents, not even a liquid residue. Abby had run it through its paces, but hadn’t been able to find anything out about it. It was a bottle, nothing strange at all about it. Which was more than could be said about the card only he could read.

 

Gibbs stared at the surface of the bottle, noting how his fingerprints had smudged the green crystal. He pulled out a handkerchief, rubbing the smooth surface, cleaning off his fingerprints and then plopped the bottle back on his desk, turning his attention to the reports.

 

“How may I serve you, Master?”

 

Gibbs head snapped up and he pulled his weapon out, aiming it reflexively. A man stood at his desk, no NCIS visitor badge visible. He was wearing a simple white button down and a pair of jeans that looked painted on. There was no weapon…and Gibbs had scanned him for weapons. All over.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Gibbs growled, keeping his gun trained on the other man.

 

The man flicked his gaze to the bottle. “I…I’m Tony, Master.”

“How did you get in here? Show me your ID.”

 

“ID?” The man said, repeating the words slowly. “What does that mean, Master? I can get it…if that is your wish.”

 

“My...what?” Gibbs asked, feeling suddenly off balance. He watched, gun never wavering as the man shimmered and became transparent before he regained a solid state. This should have been impossible, and Gibbs wondered if it wasn’t his age or exhaustion causing him to imagine this. He wanted to reach a hand out and test the other man’s solidity, but he didn’t dare take both hands off his gun.

 

“Your wishes, Master. I am here to grant them.”

 

“Where the hell did you…” Gibbs couldn’t help the little involuntary glance he shot to the bottle. His head snapped up and he focused on the other man, mentally kicking himself. He knew that wavering in attention—even for a split second—could be deadly.

 

“Yes, Master. Permit me to demonstrate.”

 

Gibbs shrugged but didn’t lower his weapon. He watched as the man shimmered into what could only be described as mist, which flowed into the bottle as if it was liquid. Gibbs immediately stoppered the damned thing, trying to ignore the muffled cries from inside. He reasoned that the…thing—he refused to think of it by a label—had been in there for a while, that it could deal with staying in there a little longer. But why hadn’t he seen it? Why hadn’t Abby’s tests come up with anything?

 

Gibbs ruthlessly squelched the stab of unease he felt and the guilt running through him at the masculine cries. The thing was safer in the bottle, and so was Gibbs.

 

Moving to his computer, Gibbs awkwardly hammered out the word genie into the NCIS internal files area and started a search. This was something Stan or McGee did much better than him, but there was no way he was calling them in to help with such a crazy situation. This was something he had to handle his own way.

 

Gibbs entered three security codes before he was allowed to view the files he needed. The agents of NCIS had run across some strange things in their time and his security clearance level allowed him access to those hidden archives. He was one of only five people in the agency with such high clearances.

 

Gibbs read for thirty minutes solid before he picked up the bottle and tucked it carefully into his coat pocket. He was doing the rest of this at home. He unplugged his computer, knowing from experience that cleared the search trail, and then he stopped in the security office, “accidentally” dropping a magnet on a hard drive. The magnetic field was strong enough to wipe out the last hour of surveillance footage. Pretending to be a complete Luddite had its advantages. Nobody would think his mix-up had been anything but an accident. And that would serve him well, just as it had in the past.

 

Gibbs whistled some song he’d heard somewhere about genies rubbing the singer the right way, his body hardening as he remembered the look of the…of Tony. He had a sensual mouth, eyes the same color as the bottle, and those jeans had hugged every curve. And bulge. And there had been a hell of a lot of bulges. Gibbs hadn’t been involved with anyone for a long time—not since he and Stan had decided they worked better as co-workers than lovers—and this Tony…he was perfect.

 

Gibbs pulled in to his driveway and went into his house, locking the door behind him. He moved into the den, making sure the drapes were tightly closed before removing the stopper on the bottle. Nothing happened until he ran his hand across it a few times.

 

The mist appeared first, solidifying into the man who was now wearing skin-tight leather pants and a green shirt that perfectly matched the shade of the bottle—and the man’s eyes. Gibbs tried to act calm and cool, but there was no way he could hide his desire and lust, his aching hard cock and the naked need he knew had to be on his face.

 

“Master,” Tony replied, cooler now. “You have five wishes, are you ready to begin.

 

Gibbs nodded. He really only needed one wish and he’d composed it on the drive home. There was one wish he had to ask for, though he suspected he knew the answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

 

“Bring my wife and daughter back to life?” He asked in as a question, because it was far from a certain thing.

 

Tony’s expression softened, turning sympathetic. He crossed the room, touching their faces in a picture.

 

“Master, I know you researched us and have learned that isn’t possible. When we bring people back, their souls stay in the ever after. You would have their shells, but not their real spirits intact.  They will be inhabited with brand new spirits. No shared memories, no love between all of you. You would never be a family. However, I live to serve, so if you insist…”

 

Tony trailed off, and Gibbs just watched him. Having Shannon and Kelly only partially back would be its own sort of hell, and Gibbs dismissed Tony’s words with a firm shake of his head.

 

He sat deep in thought for hours, and Tony didn’t disturb him. It had to be clear to the genie that Gibbs was taking his wishes very seriously.

 

Finally, Gibbs spoke, certain of his path. “My father is still alive. I want an opportunity to see him and the opportunity for a second chance as father and son with him.”

 

Tony nodded, and Gibbs could see from the look in his eyes that he’d chosen well. “It will be done, Master.”

 

“I’d like Stan, Abby, and Ducky to find companionship and love. Can you make it so that the ones they’re meant to be with cross their paths soon?” Gibbs would have added McGee’s name, but he wanted to save one last wish for himself.

 

“That is very kind, Master. It will be done. You have one more wish. Use it wisely.”

 

 

Gibbs nodded, pulling in a deep breath. When he’d found the perfect words, he exhaled slowly. “I want you in fully human form to stay with me until my death, as my personal companion and my sex slave. As…my lover.”

 

Tony’s eyes widened and Gibbs wondered if he hadn’t miscalculated. The research said genies were bisexual by their very nature and it would be clear to tell if they were attracted to their master or mistress.

 

When Tony didn’t say anything, Gibbs felt compelled to break the silence. “That a problem?”


“N-no, Master,” Tony said, looking at Gibbs, the sheen of what could be tears visible in his eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?” Gibbs asked, stepping closer. The need to protect the younger man was welling up inside him and he brushed Tony’s hair back, a fingertip trailing over the wetness overflowing from Tony’s eyes and running down his cheeks.

 

“Nobody ever wanted to keep me,” Tony said, emphasizing the word keep, his voice shaking.

 

“I do,” Gibbs said. He didn’t know why he was taking this step; it was huge and so unlike him. But he knew deep down that this was the right thing for him—for them both. “You gonna grant me my wish, Tony?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Tony said softly, deliberately. Gibbs saw his form ripple and then Tony shook his head a few times, seeming to orient himself in some way Gibbs didn’t understand.

 

“You okay?” he asked quietly, hand coming up to squeeze the back of Tony’s neck. When Tony gave Gibbs a smile of gratitude and desire, lust and need, Gibbs’ heart swelled.

 

“Oh yeah. When do we get started?”

 

“No time like the present!”