Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the writers, producers, et al of the television show 'NCIS'. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, internet persona, or other being, living or dead, is completely coincidental and unintentional unless otherwise noted.

A/N: This is AU, obviously. I've noticed a severe lack in Tony/Jimmy stories out there, and so had to write this little nugget to help fill the deficit. A little bit about the timeline – I'm going with the original airdates of the episodes as a rough guideline as to when things 'really' took place, save for episodes which are multiple parts. The opening scene takes place just after 'Bounce'. The following scene is just after 'End Game', and can be considered the point where the tale really runs AU from the series.

I don't plan to have much in the way of casefile threads; this is primarily a (insert melodramatic shudder here) romance. I know, I know, I'm not that great at romance, but the bunny wouldn't go away, so it was either write a romance or stab my brain with a Q-tip, and I like music too much to hurt my poor, defenseless ears in order to kill my brain for this.

When it Rains

Sunday, February 22, 2009
Tony's Apartment

Stardust – yeah, Tony knew it wasn't her real name, but didn't give a damn – arched her back, making her perky breasts stand out sharply from her chest as she rode him. Tony's hands caressed the offering, his eyes enjoying the contrast in their skin-tones, before sliding down to rest on her hips. Pale blue, three-thousand thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets puddled around the pair on the queen-sized bed, a row of candles on the white oak headboard making their sweaty bodies glisten.

She bounced harder, tossing her head back, exposing her throat. Growling, Tony seized the opportunity to reverse their positions, the force of which had the headboard knocking against the wall hard enough that his eighty-six year-old neighbor knocked back and shouted, "Keep it down in there!"

One more detail that Tony just couldn't give a damn about.

He poured his frustrations with Gibbs and the whole Domino fiasco into his current activity, included his anger with Vance over being sent off afloating, and no small measure of his own guilt at being partially responsible for getting Jenny killed to begin with – regardless of the fact that he'd learned the hard way to stay out of her personal vendettas. Even as Stardust mewed and gasped and clutched at him, he worked harder, trying to rid himself of the self-loathing he had for putting an innocent man in prison for three years, for falling for his undercover mark, for using Jeanne, for contracting the fucking plague, for having had the bad taste to break his leg in college, even for having brought his current bedmate home with him from the club and… Well, for everything bad or even marginally questionable since a very drunk Anthony D. DiNozzo, Senior had, in grief of his own, blamed an eight year-old Junior for not knowing Alice DiNozzo was too drunk to be driving.

For her part, Stardust didn't know nor care what drove the handsome man with the piercing green eyes. All she knew was that she didn't want him to stop… Oh, yeah. Just like thatShe might just leave him her real name and her cell number, after all. HarderHarder

But when she awoke hours later, blissfully content and pleasantly sore, he wasn't there. Just a note on his bedside table that read 'I had to go to work. Help yourself to a shower. Make sure you lock the door when you leave.'

Sighing, she decided not to leave him her real information. She would have, if he'd bothered to tell the contents of the note to her in person. Even so, she made a point to memorize the address on her way home. Who knew? Maybe she'd wind up changing her mind about giving him her name and cell phone number and come back later. He really was a fantastic lay.

A/N2: The title of this story is from the expression 'When it rains, it pours', which is another of those sayings that I'm sure give both Cote de Pablo and Ziva David brain-spasms in trying to figure out. The title actually hit me when I drove past the Morton Salt processing center in Utah a few weeks ago. Odd where we get our inspiration, isn't it?

And in case you missed the update to my bio, I've not been home since July 24th. I went through a two-week class and got my CDL (Commercial Driver's License) - Class A, which means I drive the big trucks - and now am an honest-to-god trucker. I get paid to drive around the country, and in the last two months, the only states I've not visited yet are New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, and Florida (excluding Alaska, because I'm not certified for driving in Canada, and Hawaii for obvious reasons). My favorite state thus far is still Texas, though Washington comes a close second. My least-favorite states are a tie between California and Oregon. Seriously, CaliOrego? 55 MPH for trucks? WTF? Anyway, this means that updates to ALL my fics will be, by necessity, far more sporadic than they've been in the past, at least until I get upgraded from 'apprentice' to full trucker with the company and receive a raise and so can afford mobile wireless.

Edit 11/12/2012: Fixed some lost spaces in the italicized text.