A/N: I wrote this on the train home from college. It's a three part Tony/Gibbs Slash fic so if that's not your thing don't read, although it's nothing particularly overt. It's also a songfic, but don't judge it until you read it and if you really don't like it hit the review button and tell me why. On that train of thought, this is my first NCIS fic so there may be some ooc traits, again if there are, press the review button and I will endeavour to correct them. Anyways, R&R and enjoy Rhea

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. This is the property of Donald P. Bellisario and co. Neither do I own the song What Do You Want from Me, that's owned byPink Floyd

1. What Do You Want From Me?

As you look around this room tonight, settle in your seat and dim the lights

Tony glared at Gibbs across the room. Furious that they were having this argument again. He was getting more and more frustrated as it went on, because for someone so fucking quiet most of the time, Jethro could sure as hell shout the house down when he wanted to.

As his partner paused for breath Tony jumped in, "It's all right for you, you don't have to think about these things. All you do is hide away in the basement and build your stupid boat while I sit up here and try not to think about what I'd do if something happened to you.

Do you want my blood, do you want my tears? What do you want?
Should I sing until I can't sing any more?
Play these strings until my fingers are raw?

I don't know what I to do. I don't know whether to leave you to you and ignore everything or sit down and try to work it out. But every time we fucking try we end up yelling at each other and I'm tired of it. I never know what you're thinking; never know what you're feeling. It's not like you ever give me a heads-up. No you don't fucking bother I just walk around on eggshells hoping for the best, hoping that you're not going to snap at me if I move in the wrong way."

You're so hard to please, what do you want from me?

He paused breathing deeply and when Gibbs just looked at him he went on in a tired voice, "You're so god-damned hard to please, I never know what I'm supposed to do. You don't talk to me, you don't listen to me. And there's only one thing I want to know now, what do you want, Jethro? What do you want from me?"


Do you think that I know something you don't know?

Gibbs didn't have the answers. That annoyed him more than the fact they were having the exact same argument as a week ago. Tony had started this so now he was going to put actions to the name; the second b was for bastard after all.

He glared at his lover and asked in a dangerously low voice, "Do you think I have the answers? Think that I know everything?"

Tony sometimes either didn't read the warning signs or chose to ignore them, so he replied, "I don't think you have them Jethro, I expect you to have them."

If I don't promise you the answers would you go?

"Well I don't have your answers Tony. I don't fucking know what I want from you. But are you going to leave now you don't know? Going to run off because I can't answer your stupid fucking question?" Gibbs roared back.

Should I stand out in the rain?
Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you?

" I can't waste time pondering the answers to stupid questions because I have a job to do. Sometimes I have to act before I think. Sometimes I have to. There's someone out there who needs me to protect them and if I die doing it I'll die a happy man."

I'm not the one you need, what do you want from me?

"I have to make sure everyone makes it out okay and sometimes it means putting their safety before mine. You've done it before today and you'll do it again. So what are you going to do? What am I supposed to do?"

There was a long, tense pause between the two me before Gibbs finally spoke again in a weary tone, "You know what Tony. Fine. I'm not the one you need. You need someone with answers and I'm not that. I don't even know the fucking questions most of the time so go."

Tony scowled and snatched his jacket from the hook as he headed towards the front door. Just before he left, he muttered loud enough for Gibbs to hear, "At least I'm clear about what I want from you."

Tony left, slamming the door behind him.


You can have anything you want.
You can drift, you can dream, even walk on water,
anything you want.

Sat behind the wheel of his car, driving god knows where, Tony scowled down at the road.

He's a stupid old bastard. He knows I'd do anything for him, I'd give anything for him and yet he treats me like dirt. Doesn't tell me anything, doesn't explain anything, leaves me out here in the cold to flounder about what the fuck I'm supposed to do. Now I know why he's got three living ex-wives.

Why the hell did he think I'd leave him? I'll piss off for a couple of days, sure, but I can't leave him. I'm not strong enough to stay away that long. I need him, he's everything I want. That's the simple truth. It's the stupidly complicated parts that are wedged between us.


You can own everything you see
Sell your soul for complete control,
Is that really what you need?

I'd do anything for him. I won't tell him that, it'd sound fucking stupid if it came from me, I try, but every time I try the words fail, catch in my throat and I don't bother. I've stopped trying recently.

He's had my six all these years, does he really think it's meant fuck all to me? I'm a bastard to live with. Fuck I'm a self-proclaimed bastard. Everyone knows it. I don't talk, but I figured after all these years he'd just get it.

I figured that Tony would just know.

You can lose yourself this night
See inside there is nothing to hide
Turn and face the light

It's easy to walk away from things and see how they might have worked out differently, Tony. Hindsight makes it easy to think about what you should have said. But it doesn't mean that it ever gets said, it just means you know what you should have said.

It's easy to lose a whole night thinking about the things you don't understand; thinking about the people you don't understand….


And all that night Tony and Gibbs sat in different parts of the city, thinking the same thing: What do you want from me?