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Eliot Spencer along with the rest of his team beamed down into the yard of Mike Franks’ home in Mexico. Trusting his men to follow their assignments, he paused just long enough to scan his surroundings to make sure there were no surprises. It had taken a couple months for everyone involved to be sure that there were no other opportunities to put Franks in jail. After exhausting everything they could however, it was agreed it would be a better idea to let Morrow go ahead with his backup plan. Once he was satisfied they were good, Eliot motioned Moss to enter the residence with Basu following behind him.
Having already been given the layout of the small house from Gibbs via Tom Morrow, it was easy work for his 3-man team, well used to such matters, to pick their way through the home and to the bedroom. Fortunately, as Gibbs assured Franks seemed to be passed out if the smell of booze was to be trusted, lying face down on his bed.
When Eliot was called into O’Neill’s office and saw Homeworld Director Tom Morrow in there, he’d immediately been worried. Eliot had gotten to know the Director pretty well during the weeks his team spent protecting Tony at Morrow’s guest house. So, he knew that the angry look on the older man’s face didn’t mean anything good. When he’d left the office, he wasn’t surprised at all to find out that he’d been right.
When the FBI completed their re-investigation into the man Franks had killed, it was determined that there was no way to be sure that if they took the case to court Franks would end up in jail. Because of that, those with more power than Eliot hadn’t been willing to risk the blemish it would put on NCIS and possibly cause other cases to come into question. Instead, Morrow advised that if he couldn’t put Mike Franks in prison, then he wanted to be sure that he was never a problem again.
Easing up to the side of Franks’ bed, Eliot paused and poked the former NCIS agent in the side of his face with the tip of his P-90. When the man jerked, Eliot had to resist giving him the same treatment that Franks had given Tony. Knowing that wouldn’t accomplish his mission though kept him from acting irrationally. “Don’t move or I swear I’ll save us all a lot of time and effort and just kill your stupid ass now,” Eliot growled. He knew very well that his teammates would be able to hear the anger in the husky timbre of his drawl.
“I don’t know who you are…” Franks started only to shut up when Moss poked him from the other side.
“Shut up old man,” Moss growled making Franks flinch as he turned his head to look. Eliot almost snorted when Basu just smirked at the asshole waving what appeared to be the biggest damned needle the man could find.
“No one gives a shit about your threats.”
“We certainly aren’t afraid of an asshole like you. We’ve seen what real bad guys are like. After the Marilyn Manson look-alike, you ain’t nothing.” Basu agreed, and Eliot poked Franks again to get his attention. Once the old man was looking at him again, Eliot made sure Franks had no question of why they were there.
“You fucked up old man. You played cowboy one too many times. Now, I’m gonna lay down the law for you, and you’re gonna follow my orders like a good little asshole, or you’ll regret it.”
“I ain’t afraid of you,” Franks sneered, and Eliot just smiled darkly, feeling the furthest thing from friendly in years.
“You should be. See, we ain’t a band of mercenaries. You’ve pissed off some very powerful people who would rather you just disappeared. Unfortunately, your granddaughter loves you, and they’d rather not deal with the fuss your daughter in law might raise if you disappeared. So, before risking it, they’re going to give you one chance to prove you’re not as stupid as your actions indicate.”
“You forgot my probie, asshole,” Franks sneered, and Eliot just lifted an eyebrow as Moss grunted his disbelief.
“Who the fuck do you think told us where to find you, jackass? Now, shut the fuck up and listen. We know all about the man you killed and got away with. Gibbs found his conscious and told us all about it. In return for not making you disappear, you’re going to stay your stupid ass in Mexico, and never contact either Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs or Special Agent Tony DiNozzo again.
“Should you either try to enter the US or attempt to contact either man or anyone they know again, you will literally disappear. You won’t die. We’ll just take you and put you in a place that will make you wish we’d killed you. Just in case you think you can sneak somewhere without knowing it, know that the organization we work for has people who work on nothing else but keeping track of people and better ways to do it.
“You’re done. You’re never hurting someone again just because they were doing their job. You’re never taking advantage of an emotionally compromised man again who just wanted to grieve the loss of his wife and daughter. You’re never taking the law into your own hands again and deciding when you’re gonna follow it and when you’re not. Trust me when I say that if you fuck with me, you will regret it for the remainder of your very incredibly painful life. I will make sure you live a hell of a long time just so I can make you suffer longer.”
Franks opened his mouth to smart off, but Eliot wasn’t interested and apparently, his teammates weren’t either. Before Franks could speak, Karun jabbed a needle in his ass smaller than the one he’d threatened him with earlier. This one was filled with a strong sedative, and before Franks was done slurring out the first sentence of his threat, he was out cold. After confirming he was out, Eliot signaled to Karun that it was ok to proceed and watched him pull the nightmare needle back out.
“They’re sure that this tracker can’t be extracted? What’s to prevent some doctor from finding it out in some medical exam or x-rays or some shit and just cutting it out.”
“This is a brand-new tracker developed just for assholes like Mike Franks,” Basu, who served as the team’s doctor when they were in the field, assured. “As soon as it’s implanted it immediately finds a muscle and begins to burrow in. Quickly it becomes one with the muscle and after only 24 hours it cannot be removed without cutting the entire muscle out. Once it’s in place, if someone should try to cut it out, the tracker releases a chemical that will quickly and painfully kill the person being tracked.
“Trust me, he will never get near Tony again, Eliot.”
“Better damned well not,” Eliot swore, and once Basu was done, he signaled his team to exit. Not an hour after they were back in their rooms trying to get some sleep before their mission the next day.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Tony was standing in the mostly quiet gate room watching the Stargate sitting at the top of the ramp. It had taken a couple months, even with the rapid healing of his shoulder area injury and ribs along with the healing of his lung problems from his plague run-in and healing the even older knee injury from college. Tony had a high standard for himself of field readiness and had taken up training with his partner Elijah Mundo and some of the other marines on base.
When he first left NCIS, Tony had wondered if he’d really ever find a place that he could just put down roots at and stay. A couple months later though he had to admit that there was something about the SGC that just felt different than any other place he’d been in. The people were generally more open-minded. After all, you couldn’t handle aliens if you hated people for the laundry list of reasons humans often used.
Elijah Mundo was almost a dream partner, often reminding him of the early days with Gibbs without some of the bullshit he’d overlooked even back then. Their new Forensics Analyst was also fitting in quite well not only with Tony and Elijah but the other scientists in the mountain. Then there was Eliot Spencer.
Eliot was… Well, some days Tony didn’t have words for what Eliot was becoming for him. There was a quietness and calmness about the man that Tony hadn’t understood how much he needed until he had it. There was also something refreshing about knowing he could discuss his father with someone who had their own parental issues and didn’t judge. While Gibbs and his father had been estranged for years, it was the way he just ignored the things Tony said more than anything else. With Eliot, there was a quiet assurance of sympathy and acceptance that Tony wasn’t used to.
So, things with Eliot were going wonderfully. It wasn’t like everything was peaches and cream. Despite trying to divorce himself from his worries over what happened at NCIS, Tony still had some lingering guilt over people like McGee and Abby wondering if he could have, should have done something to prevent what happened to them. Eliot and Elijah both kept telling him that they weren’t his problem. Unfortunately, old habits were hard to break.
Tony had always drawn his responsibilities deep within himself and tried to give everything within him to see they were fulfilled. It ate at him when that didn’t happen. He still saw his former partner Danny’s dirty dealings with the mob as a shortcoming he should have been able to prevent, and he doubted that he’d let go of his worry over Abby and McGee any quicker.
General O’Neill was a riot, and while they mostly got along, Tony knew that the numerous issues he and Mundo kept finding were driving the commander crazy. Daniel Jackson was completely awesome, and the kind of geek that Tony loved. When everything in the mountain got to be too much, Tony had taken to hiding in Jackson’s office letting him teach Tony more ancient. They’d found out that Tony not only had the ATA gene, but it was as strong as O’Neill’s which the General definitely loved.
Carter on the other hand seemed to hate Tony’s guts for some reason that he couldn’t uncover. Maybe there was a time when Tony would have obsessed over it, but after the way things ended for Team Gibbs, Tony was at least able to stop fretting about people who hated him. Apparently, Ziva was good for at least one thing in the end.
“You ready?” Tony heard and looked over to see Eliot Spencer standing next to him with an understanding smile on his face.
“Yeah, maybe a little nervous,” Tony admitted with a shrug as he turned his gaze back to the quiet Stargate. He’d sat up in the conference room and watched dozens of missions come and go since he’d arrived at the mountain and felt the same level of awe and excitement each time. Somehow though now that his turn had come, he felt the same familiar gameday nerves that once plagued him at Ohio State.
“Nothin’ to be nervous about,” Eliot assured as he bumped his shoulder into Tony’s. “We got y our back.”
As the room filled up and the chevrons eventually began to light up, Tony continued to take in the scene in front of him enjoying Eliot’s comfortable heat next to him. When it came time to step through, Tony couldn’t help but look to his right to see Eliot by his side. At that moment, he realized that no matter what happened after that, it was all gonna be ok from there on out.
Note: I write fanfiction for fun. It’s a hobby and a stress relief. I refuse to angst over my writing. What you see is what you get. Errors, plot holes, and all. Thank you for reading my story!