The Boy Next Door
Gibbs jogged down the stairs while adroitly tying the knot of his necktie. Grabbing his sport coat from the banister knob, he slid his arms into the sleeves and stopped briefly to regard his appearance in the foyer mirror.
Shaking his head as he adjusted the tie's knot, he tried to pinpoint how many weeks had passed since he had dressed so nicely.
He made a couple of adjustments to his navy blue jacket and brushed a thread of lint off of his khaki slacks.
Finally satisfied, he veered into the living room where his son, seventeen year old Tony, sprawled watching television.
"Hey," he called out, noting that Tony evidently managed to watch the screen with a scowl firmly in place.
Gibbs pursed his lips. He could take credit for that pout.
Ignoring the lack of response, Jethro crossed to the side table and snatched the media's remote, then aimed it at the television screen and muted the television's volume.
That elicited a reaction.
Tony sputtered in annoyance, "Thanks, Dad, I was right in the middle of watching that and you just interrupted!"
"Hmmm…" Gibbs regarded him, no evidence of apology in his voice. "Ok, now as I told you a little bit ago, I should get home around midnight. Jenny and I are just going to dinner and a movie."
"Wow, sounds riveting," Tony responded with as much sarcasm as he could thread between the words. He already knew that Jethro had a date with his former teammate, an attractive redhead with whom Jethro shared a history.
Gibbs chose to ignore the sarcasm for the moment. Crossing over to the sofa he leaned over the back and tousled his son's hair. "Make sure that your bedtime arrives before I return. I want you in your bed, not staying up all night. It worries me that you might not have slept enough the past few nights."
"What is it you think I can do all night, anyway, Dad? You refuse to let me leave the house, and according to you, the phone is off limits;" Tony demanded, not bothering to hide his anger. "You grounded me, remember?"
Gibbs moved around the couch. "That I did, because you had a bad progress report from school."
"So, what point are you trying to make right now?" Tony snapped, flinging his head back against the sofa's back.
"I made it." Gibbs narrowed his eyes and sharpened his tone. "However, if your attitude does not improve instantly, you will face more than just house confinement. I believe I addressed your disposition last night and promised you additional consequences if you did not check your tone and smart mouth. Am I clear?"
Though still very annoyed, Tony managed to quickly transform his expression. Having grown up with Gibbs as a father, he knew pushing his daddy's buttons any more would backfire on him. He had years of experience tempering his own responses.
"Yes sir," he replied simply.
"Yes sir, what?" Jethro prodded, keeping his gaze fixed on his son.
"Yes sir, I understand and I will take care of my attitude." Tony regarded his father's response to see if his words had satisfied the man.
Obviously, they did, or else his dad was in too good a mood to stop and deal with Tony further.
He motioned to the set. "Ok, I will see you asleep later tonight when I get home."
Gibbs turned and left the house with that promise. It surprised him that he anticipated his upcoming date with so much excitement. This actually comprised the third time he and Jen had scheduled time together in the past month.
She came to town every so often, and they picked up their relationship where they left it after each get together. No ties existed, and that pleased Gibbs. Jen seemed to appreciate the no strings attached times, as well.
He glanced back at the house while he backed the car down the driveway.
Tony had already managed to sulk forty eight hours, the exact time after his parent had lowered the boom and reminded him, quite eloquently, that c's were unacceptable. Tony had racked up four of them this grading period, as evidenced by the progress report, and Gibbs had promptly yanked his freedom to roam out from under him.
It had not been pretty for the teen, and he had responded with ill grace.
Gibbs sighed as he steered the car. Tony possessed a playful, sociable personality, and had allowed it to drive his school work the past few weeks, forcing his father to respond with a heavy hand. Jethro refused to accept grades lower than b's from his teen, who would gleefully shortchange academics to inflate his extra curricular time, or to hone his social skills.
Knowing his father followed through consistently with punishment if Tony's marks slipped, the child usually managed to keep all classes at B or A levels.
This time he had gambled too much, thinking that he could pull through right before the progress reports printed. However, his late efforts had failed, which accounted for the fact that his social, extra curricular life now had temporarily ceased to exist.
Jethro rubbed his chin as he idled at a stoplight. His role as a father exhausted him far more than his position as an NCIS agent.
He would consider himself a happy man when he had evidence that his happy go lucky son could actually act maturely outside of his father's periphery.
Back home, Tony's mood had failed to improve. Piled on the sofa he felt sorry for himself, assuring himself that he ranked as the victim in his current situation. No one else's parent acted so ridiculous about grades, especially grades that were interim grades and not even the final ones of the semester!
Now his fun suffered, and his social life lay in ruins.
When he had kids he would never treat them so unfairly over stupid, ridiculous, progress report grades!
Narrowing his eyes, he pushed himself off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen. Yanking open both the refrigerator door and the freezer door, he stood contemplating the contents while the hairs on his arms sprang up from the blast of cold air.
Nothing on the shelves or doors appealed to him at the moment, and he slammed both doors.
His eyes lit on the kitchen phone and he momentarily contemplated reaching out a hand and grabbing the receiver. How would his dad even know if he called anyone, anyway? Phone restriction just existed as yet another example of how his father overreacted at a couple of grades. However, common sense prevailed and he physically backed away from the temptation. He already had enough trouble on his shoulders without inviting extra.
Running his hands through his hair he jogged lightly towards the front door. It would be sheer Heaven to go for a nice long jog, to pound against the concrete for half an hour and allay his physical confinement.
Tony drummed his fingers against the metal strip of the door frame while he mused. Would his dad know if he disobeyed by leaving the house?
Perhaps one of the neighbors would see him, and inadvertently mention that little fact.
Tony wrinkled his nose and weighed the options. He knew he could not risk it.
His dad practiced no tolerance when it came to punishments or disobedience.
All this grounding ruined his life already, and provoking his father to add to it, like losing the television or suffering from a spanking, would just compound his misery.
Nevertheless, he cracked open the door to at least sniff the invigorating night air.
The cool, fresh night air greeted him and he inhaled happily,
Something caught his eye from across the street, and he swung open the door wider and focused.
A thin trail of smoke snaked from a front window of one of the houses across the street, about midway down the block.
Tony moved down until he reached the walkway, then crossed onto the grass of his front lawn for a better view.
Definitely, something inside that home burned, and it had nothing to do with a chimney!