SERE Me

Tony woke up and stretched, his fingers instinctively curling around the smooth column on his poster bed, but instead he knocked over an empty glass on the shelf in Gibbs' headboard and rapped his knuckles on the hard wood.

Crap.

He turned his head away from the bright lamp on the nightstand as he sat up, hands smoothing his wrinkled clothes. He'd been redressing and obviously nodded off when he sat down to put on his shoes. Tony rolled his neck to get rid of the kink burning behind his ear. He yawned and reached for his shoes again —

5:35

Tony blinked at the red numbers glaring at him from Gibbs’ alarm clock.

Shit.

He was supposed to have left six hours ago when Gibbs went back down to work on the boat for a while and of course Gibbs just assumed Tony left and fell asleep downstairs himself. Tony scowled at the clock. He understood the reasons why he shouldn’t spend the night, but it was still annoying and inconvenient on the best nights, let alone when he’d been drugged and dumped in a sewer the night before.

Tony was just pulling his shoes on when he heard the stairs creak as Gibbs came up from the basement. He was too tired to handle Gibbs without his coffee so Tony froze, suddenly feeling as if he was trapped in the Alpha Phi Sorority House after curfew again.

He’d climbed through Tammy Winslow’s second story window just to get a hand under her skirt before campus security chased him out. Tony smiled at the memory, his aching muscles twitching as adrenaline moved through his system. Gibbs may be a Marine, but Tony could actually teach the SERE instructors a thing or two about evasion and escape!

Tony’s mind was moving seconds ahead of Gibbs as he flicked off the lamp. He saw spots behind his eyes, holding his breath as he listened. Gibbs predictably veered down the hall to the kitchen and Tony waited until he heard the faucet running when Gibbs filled the coffee pot. The water covered the sound of his bare footsteps as he tucked his shoes under his arm and crept down the hall.

He peeked into the kitchen. Gibbs was still standing at the sink, tired and stiff, washing out his favorite mug. Tony waited for the right moment, when Gibbs turned another twenty degrees and reached for the hand towel, before crossing the kitchen doorway and ducking into the living room. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light from the street lamp outside and spotted his jacket on the back of the sofa. He skimmed his fingers across the table top and grabbed his glasses and his—

Where were his keys?

Tony dropped to his knees and searched the floor, sweeping his arm under the sofa and chair. He lifted the sofa cushions and found a handful of change. Tony slipped the coins in his pocket and moved behind the overstuffed chair to think for a moment and listen for Gibbs. He’d left the kitchen.

He was—where—in the bathroom?

Tony crawled behind the sofa, inching closer to the door.

Yes. He heard Gibbs piss and flush the toilet. Then the shower started. Tony waited a few minutes, listening to the water fall until he heard it change, the spray hitting skin instead of the hollow tub.

His keys must be in the bedroom, he thought. He put them in his pants pocket instead of his coat pocket.

Tony snuck back down the hall, glancing nervously into the bathroom as he passed. He hesitated when he noticed the shower curtain wasn’t closed all the way and he could see Gibbs standing under the spray. He was facing Tony with his eyes closed and Tony briefly indulged the idea of getting in with him.

Right. Facing a pissed off Gibbs with only one cup of coffee so far.

Tony’s survival instinct kicked in and he forced himself to resist.

He decided he had to risk turning on the bedroom light so he could search faster, but the keys weren’t on the floor. He checked under the bed and in the sheets.

Nothing.

Then he spotted his keys on the nightstand.

He snatched them up and dashed to the front door, yanking it open and then jerking back. He stumbled a few feet when the door didn’t budge and juggled his shoes in his other hand. One landed with a thud on the rug and Tony shook the other one at the obstinate door.

Gibbs never locked his door!— Until they started fucking.

Tony glanced over his shoulder and slipped his shoes on as the shower continued. He deftly flipped the lock and stepped outside. Relocking the door, he didn’t want Gibbs to find it unlocked, Tony shut the door behind him and hugged the side of the house. He needed to stay in the shadows as he glanced around the block, wary of paper delivery boys or early morning joggers, but the street was empty and he relaxed a fraction.

He even added a triumphant and giddy little kick to his step as he bounced down the sidewalk, but he only went a few feet toward the car before he remembered his keys hadn’t been on the nightstand when he woke up.

Tony frowned, slowly turning back to the house.

Gibbs.

Knew.

Shower--

Fuck!

Tony threw his damn keys at the locked door.

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