Author's Note: This is another pre-series, alternate 'when Tony met Jethro' kind of story. Senior is a meanie head and so is Danny (Tony's former partner Danny), although he doesn't really officially make an appearance until part two of the story. Speaking of part two…

I put this together a bit differently than my other fics. Instead of doing a sequel (which I never seem to get around to) this one is just split into two parts. Part one is complete and can be read as a whole story that will (hopefully) leave you satisfied at the end. Part two is a continuation of the story. It's been started and will be posted as a new chapter in this story (instead of an entirely new story) but there will be a little bit of a delay in posting it. I'd like to get it going so I can give you guys regular updates rather than leaving you hanging for long periods of time between each chapter.

Thank you for enduring all the yabba yabba. Now for the story!

Cheating Death

Part I

Chapter One: Happily Never After

Tony's heart jumped to his throat the instant he felt it. It was a feeling that both thrilled and terrified at the same time and in that moment Tony was thriving off of it. He had absolutely no control over the car speeding down the snowy roads and he loved it.

He let up on the gas as the backend fishtailed and instinctively eased the wheel first left and then right to get it straightened out and moving forward again. His adrenaline fueled hoot of excitement was interrupted by the GPS unit on his dash.

"Recalculating," the computerized voice announced.

"You've spent the entire trip recalculating," Tony muttered, wishing he knew how to silence the piece of equipment. Some day he would work for an agency that had equipment that actually worked without irritating him.

Well, he might if his father ever left him alone.

And if he lived through the night.

Both were unlikely.

Fishtailing his way up the side of a mountain in a blizzard, alone, chasing down a serial killer probably didn't bode well for him but none of that mattered much as Tony eased the gas pedal down more, pushing the car harder in hopes of closing the gap between him and Bobby Carter.

The joyride continued as Tony headed further up the mountain, slipping and sliding as he got closer and closer to the blinking red tracking dot on the computer screen in the passenger seat. He revved the engine when needed and eased off the gas just in time to stop himself from sliding off the road and down the embankment, all the time keeping a close eye on the GPS unit. It wasn't until he eased around a corner almost halfway up the mountain and found himself face to face with the fire engine red pickup truck that Tony realized just how inaccurate his GPS unit was.

"Shit!" he shrieked, wondering when and why Carter had turned around and was now heading down the mountain.

Before he had time to react, the barrel of a long gun came out of the truck's driver side window and the blast of a shot was ringing in Tony's ears. His chest burned as the bullet made contact just below his clavicle but the Kevlar he'd had the foresight to put on took away the penetrating sting. Another shot sailed over him as he ducked for cover and then Tony heard the clicking sound that told him the gun was jammed.

His relief was short lived when he heard the sound of the pickup's engine angrily roaring to life. Moments later his entire body jerked forward as Carter rammed the car he was in and started pushing him backwards. Tony pulled out his service pistol with one hand and fired rapidly at Carter while frantically pumping the brake and desperately trying to keep the Buick on the road but with all the twists and turns and the threat of his head being blown off if he sat up straight, it wasn't long before he lost the battle.

His stomach dropped as the car slid off the road and barreled, out of control, down the embankment that had provided so much thrill for him only moments ago. Despite the thick snow, the car picked up speed until it came to an abrupt halt at the base of a large pine tree.

"Shit," Tony slurred as the world around him began to fade. His last thought before he slumped lifelessly over the steering wheel, was that he was going to die all alone on the side of that mountain and his body wouldn't be found until the spring thaw. Bobby Carter had just claimed another victim.

Warmth. That was the first thing Tony noticed. He was strangely warm. He would've bet his bank account—as meager as that was—that death was a cold, uncomfortable experience. He'd been right about the discomfort. He felt like he'd been run over by a tank but the warmth was nice surprise and, he was guessing, eased some of the discomfort.

Tony opened his eyes and realized he wasn't dead after all. He was on a couch in what appeared to be a small cabin, in front of a roaring fire that smelled a little too much like the country for him. The heavy fleece blanket covering him added to his warmth and comfort and he smiled inwardly at the thought of someone caring enough to tuck him in. That was something he'd never experienced before.

He continued casually glancing around the room until his eyes landed on those of a tall, well-built man, sitting in a chair nearby with curious blue eyes peeking over the book he was reading. Panic set in and had Tony pushing the blanket off and jumping to his feet, ready to protect himself if need be.

It took him all of two seconds to realize that was a mistake. Not only was he dizzy, the dull aches in his body were now throbbing angrily.

The curious eyes never left him but an endearing smirk now accompanied them. Just as Tony was starting to get upset about the man's nonchalance, he realized what had caused the smirk. An embarrassingly high pitched shriek was followed by him frantically grabbing for the blanket and recovering himself.

"Why am I naked?!" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep his cool.

"'cause I took your clothes off of ya," the stranger replied casually.

"Well that's not creepy or anything," Tony snarked.

"They were soaking wet," the stranger explained.

"You coulda started with that," Tony countered, attempting to relax once again. The stranger's explanation made waking up in his birthday suit a little less creepy. There was something about this guy's calm demeanor and the no nonsense personality he seemed to have that really caught Tony's attention. He quickly decided he either really liked him or really hated him. He wasn't sure which yet but it wouldn't take him long to figure it out. He was good at reading people.

It wouldn't take long.

Bobby Carter.

He was there on a mission.

"Uh, as much as I'd love to stay and chat, I really gotta get going," Tony said, his eyes darting all over the room. "Are my clothes around here somewhere?"

The stranger remained calm despite Tony's growing anxiety. He didn't move from his chair but only closed his book and put it aside. "I don't know if you noticed, but we're in the middle of a blizzard and you parked your car in a giant ass pine tree."

Sassy. Tony liked sassy in manageable amounts. Apparently he really liked this guy, although in reality he'd figured that out long ago. He'd just been denying it and he would continue denying it because feelings and emotions, admiration and his dick always, always, always got him in trouble. He subconsciously grunted at the revelation.

"That would explain why I feel like I got hit by a semi."

"Do you remember anything?"

Tony knitted his eyebrows as he tried to clear out the cobwebs in his brain. "I was chasing this guy," he explained. "Things didn't go so well when I caught up with him." He paused when he realized normal don't chase other people up the side of a mountain in a blizzard. "I'm a cop."

"Baltimore PD," the stranger said. He'd found Tony's badge and creds after the Kevlar vest he'd found under the man's clothes had piqued his interest. "Anthony DiNozzo Junior. Baltimore patrol cop. You're a long way from home."

Tony narrowed his eyes, not liking that this man knew so much about him when he knew nothing about the man. He also didn't like the questions the man was asking but that was only because he knew he shouldn't have been out there doing what he was doing.

"You know so much about me but I don't know anything about you," Tony said, hoping to put a lid on the stranger's curiosity. "And I go by Tony, by the way."

"Jethro Gibbs, NCIS," the man introduced.

"NCI-what?"

"I'm a federal agent. Tell me this, Tony," Jethro said. He stood and walked across the small living room, sitting on the coffee table right in front of Tony before bringing the conversation back around to his original question. "Why's a patrol cop from Baltimore chasing a fugitive all the way out here?"

Tony laughed uncomfortably, quickly formulating an answer that wasn't the whole truth but wasn't a lie either. "I guess I'm just an overachiever," he replied.

Jethro looked at him skeptically, waiting for him to elaborate but he never did. "Your partner, your superiors know where you are?"

"Not exactly."

"Is it safe to say this is an unauthorized assignment?"

Tony smiled sheepishly in response.

Jethro gave an approving nod of his head. Apparently Tony was the kind of cop who did what needed to be done, consequences be damned and Jethro admired that in a person.

Tony reached for the itch on his forehead but to his surprise, Jethro grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"Let's not open that cut up again," Jethro said.

Tony looked slightly panicked for a moment before reaching up and gently touching the itchy spot on his head to find it caked in dried blood.

Jethro carefully removed the blanket from Tony's left shoulder and gently prodded the nasty bruise forming just below his clavicle. "You took quite the beating."

"Actually I took a bullet."

Jethro ran his fingers across the bone, making sure it was intact before picking up the Kevlar lying on the floor at the end of the couch. "Lucky you were wearing this," he said, fingering the bullet still lodged in the vest.

"I think it protected my ribs from the steering wheel too," Tony replied. "The airbags in my—uh the car, my car, they um, they didn't go off."

"Your car, huh?" Jethro asked casually, his hand finding Tony's ribcage. He let his large fingers wrap around the side of Tony's chest, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the man to make sure everything was in place.

"I—I mighta borrowed it from the impound lot."

"Borrowed?" Jethro raised one eyebrow in amusement and Tony relaxed and smiled back at the man.

"Okay, so I stole the car from impound," he finally admitted.

"Ballsy," Jethro said approvingly as he put a little more pressure on Tony's rib cage. "Don't hold your breath, Tony."

"Didn't know I was," Tony replied, sitting a little taller. The warmth of Jethro's hand and feeling of caring human contact outweighed the pain from the pressure Jethro was using to check and see if he'd broken any ribs.

"Just breathe normal. I don't want you gettin' pneumonia."

"Are they broken?" Tony asked.

"Just a little bruised," Jethro answered confidently, after inspecting the other side of Tony's chest as carefully as he did the first side. He briefly examined the area on Tony's bicep where a bullet had grazed him before winking at Tony and chucking him under the chin. "I'm gonna grab the super glue."

Tony's eyes widened and he winced and even whimpered a little as Jethro removed his hand, taking with it the warmth and electricity the contact had brought. "Super glue?"

"Gotta take care of that cut on your forehead," Jethro called from the other room.

Tony's eyes were still bugging out of his head when Jethro returned. The man reclaimed his seat on the coffee table, right in front of Tony and wrung the washcloth out in the large bowl of warm water he'd brought with him.

"What'd you hit your forehead on?" Jethro asked, dabbing at the dried blood on Tony's forehead.

"I dunno," Tony answered. "The windshield, maybe? Steering wheel? The pine tree? It happened really fast."

"You're not much help," Jethro kidded, carefully prodding around the small cut that had caused quite a bit of bleeding to make sure there weren't any foreign objects in it.

Tony sat awkwardly, trying not to stare at the other man whose face was incredibly close to his.

"Is it safe to assume you're skating on thin ice with Baltimore PD?" Jethro asked casually as he continued cleaning the blood from Tony's face.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You stole a car. You're way outside your jurisdiction. You have no backup and I'm guessing you didn't tell your superior where you were headed. You're either arrogant enough to think you can take down this guy you're chasing on your own, take the credit and use it to get yourself a promotion or you know they wouldn't approve of this mission. You don't strike me as the arrogant type, Tony."

"It's complicated," Tony replied quietly, hoping Jethro would just drop it. He really didn't want to make a big deal out of it and the last thing he wanted to do was confess he had a vindictive father who had outed him to his coworkers in spite and that the same people he'd known and worked with for the last couple years all of a sudden wanted nothing to do with him. Judging by Jethro's military haircut and the USMC blanket covering his own naked body, his reception would be just as icy if Jethro found out his secret.

"Alright," Jethro said. "Let's get that cut on your head glued up." He would work on unraveling the mystery that was Anthony DiNozzo Jr. later.

"No offense but do you know what you're doing?"

There was a hint of an amused smile on Jethro's face. "I'm all ya got."

"Good point," Tony replied.

"Lean back, rest your head on the back of the couch."

Tony recovered himself with the blanket in hopes that Jethro wouldn't figure out his little secret on his own and before he knew what was happening, Jethro was standing over him with his legs on either side of Tony's, leaning in close with his face practically in Tony's again so he could inspect the cut.

"This might sting a little," Jethro said.

Tony inhaled deeply, breathing in the words Jethro had spoken so close to his face but not really processing them. The smell of coffee on the man's breath and his close proximity was much more intriguing than what he was actually saying. He fought the urge to panic when Jethro framed his face with his forearms to hold him steady while squeezing some superglue around the edge of the cut.

"Oww!" Tony squealed, struggling against the strong arms holding him in place.

"Relax," Jethro reminded him, making quick work of gluing the cut closed. "I'm almost done." He ripped open the package of steri-strips with his teeth and secured a handful of them over the cut to hold it closed before releasing Tony's head and inspecting his work.

"You coulda warned me," Tony grumbled reaching for his forehead.

"I did," Jethro countered, intercepting Tony's hand before he could start poking at the freshly glued cut. "You were just too busy thinkin' about your dick to hear me."

Tony's eyes grew wide as he scrambled for a response to the accusation. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the smirk on Jethro's face.

"How ya doin'?" Jethro asked, saving Tony from having to respond. "Warming up?"

"Oh yeah," Tony answered, "nice and toasty." He tugged the blanket up just enough to reveal his feet and wiggled his toes.

Jethro grinned at the sight before reaching out and squeezing Tony's knee in a way that had an anything but innocent effect on the man and then standing and heading off. "Go ahead and hop in the shower," he called over his shoulder pointing towards a closed door as he walked off. "I'll put some of my sweats on the vanity for you."

Mind whirring and heart practically beating out of his chest, Tony carefully eased himself up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. "Thanks," he called.

"Try to keep that cut on your head dry. And don't poke at it!"

Tony reached out in the quiet stillness of the night, resting his hand against the cool sheet covering the empty spot in the bed next to him. The tiny ache that that had been his ever present companion for years was growing and spreading across his chest. Maybe it was the cozy cabin tucked away in the picturesque snowy mountains or the fact that, at that point, he'd most likely lost everything.

Again.

Or it could've been—in fact, it probably was—the handsome hero, dark and mysterious, who'd rescued him, taken him in, stripped him naked without a second thought and cared for him as if he really... well, cared.

Whatever it was, it reminded Tony of the loneliness he'd been running from for so long; of his desire to find his happily ever after despite knowing that would never happen, couldn't happen. He didn't even believe in happily ever after anymore. Happily ever after was a crock of shit. What he wanted only ever happened in fairy tales and real life was no fairy tale.

The truth was, he'd spent many hours in the dark of night questioning himself but the questions were getting deeper and keeping him up longer each night. All he really wanted was some peace.

He blindly reached for his cell phone in the dark and discovered it was still very early in the morning. A quiet sigh revealed his discontent as he very carefully turned onto his side, propped himself up against an overstuffed pillow and closed his eyes, even though he doubted sleep would come again. It was going to be a long night but all he had to do was make it through and then he could find a way off the mountain and away from Jethro and all the thoughts, feelings and emotions the man was causing.