AN: Thanks to all who have read! This piece starts with the last scene of Unaimed Arrow, told through Gibbs' eyes, and goes from there. I mean, they have to start talking eventually, right?

A huge thanks to gibbsandtonysbabe for beta! ((( ))) She knows what I'm up against. ;-)

I own nothing and no one. All hail the source.

Mild spoilers for Heartland, S4, end of S7 and Baltimore.

Feedback welcome.

Unwritten Rule

"DiNozzo!"

"Here, Boss!"

"Stop what you're doing. D.C. Metro found Burger Boy. McGee is sending the coordinates to your dash."

"That's great boss, I'm on it. Are we sure it's him?"

"We're sure, it's over. Go get your man."

Gibbs almost dropped the phone. He'd meant to say pick him up. He shook his head. Apparently his gut was still sneaking around behind his back where DiNozzo was concerned.

He'd had only case-related contact with his SFA during the search for Crawford, and with Tony mostly out of the office Gibbs had prowled the bullpen for traces of his state of mind.

Tony's seeming normality wasn't normal. The morning of their confessions and argument it had been a kindness, but it had been too long since Tony had let him see what he was thinking. He'd come close to snooping in the man's desk.

With nothing to do but wait, Gibbs threw himself into his chair, pressed a button or two for appearance's sake and let his mind wander, certain where it would go. His gut was on some kind of secret mission. The case was torturing him with memories of Shannon and Kelly - the bad, bloody ones - but the real agenda was Tony. He could barely remember when he had last seen his Senior Agent in such tight focus, razor-sharp and suspended. He could hardly believe their relationship was hanging by a thread.

After years of denial and fence-sitting the issues were still there, his accustomed tools having been ineffective in the end. He hadn't been able to drown his feelings in alcohol or sand them away as he had his marriages.

Boats, bourbon, basement, bullshit.

He had been left with his walls and they hadn't been Tony-proof either. DiNozzo had seeped through the cracks like smoke. He just never let up. It was the way he was, and when Tony had let up Gibbs had suddenly and surprisingly surrendered.

Being a bastard, he had fired that surrender at Tony like a weapon before he knew what he was doing. If Tony left now Gibbs knew it meant that his moment of clarity had come too late.

This line of thinking, fatalistic even by his own standards, was broken by the buzz of his desk phone. Gibbs welcomed the intrusion - it was booking. Crawford was in the building and Tony was on his way up.

The familiar ding sounded and DiNozzo swept into the bullpen with a smile and a swagger, meeting every pair of eyes in the room as he waved a large paper bag out in front of him.

"Did somebody order a cheeseburger?"

Cheers rang out as the he made his entrance.

"Tony!"

"You did it!"

"No, probies and probettes, we did it!"

Gibbs took his expected place in the moment, coming to stand in front of his desk and catching the Director's eye before yanking a firm nod and addressing the whole office.

"That's good work, people."

Vance nodded his approval from on high then turned away. Gibbs would recap the case with him later but for now he was watching Tony. At the very least some tension had drained away from the younger man. Gibbs opened the files he needed for his interrogation of Crawford, files he had memorized by now, and took a moment to observe the agents under his charge. Tony was being congratulated by the other teams, Tim was already typing, and Ziva was smiling to herself.

They were all good agents, good people. They were chatting and eating cheeseburgers and typing and Gibbs was damn proud of them. Soon Abby would call, then Ducky, and Gibbs would collect updated forensics for the interrogation. Everyone had agreed that Vance would observe - the younger agents were being sent home after days of pounding the pavement. Tony appeared to be finishing his report by the time the expected calls came, and Gibbs left the bullpen without disturbing him.

Taking his place in the elevator, he was absently watching the doors slide together when a familiar-looking blur came wheeling through the crack at the last second and skidded to an unbalanced stop just inches from his face.

"Oh, hey, boss!"

Gibbs had a stockpile of comments for this situation. He'd always been amused at Tony's tendency to make breathless mayhem of the space around him.

"Glad you could make it, DiNozzo."

"Yeah, me too."

Tony blushed as he repositioned himself at a polite distance and Gibbs wasn't sure what to think. He opened his mouth and closed it again as DiNozzo found his feet and stood facing him.

It would be a short ride if Tony didn't hit the switch and for some reason Gibbs flashed on the image of Agent David smiling at no one in particular. He shifted his own feet and took a chance.

"What's the deal with Zi-va?"

To Gibbs' surprise Tony displayed nothing but calm at the loaded question.

"She's a friend, boss."

Gibbs didn't react but he saw Tony breathe in and then the younger man was looking directly into his eyes. He spoke in a soft tone that managed to cut straight through the charged air inside the elevator.

"More than I thought. More than I ever knew."

Gibbs froze, certain Tony was no longer talking about Ziva. He held Tony's gaze and watched the younger man's eyes widen, his brows pushing upward in confirmation.

I'll be damned.

Gibbs felt a thaw spread across his chest and shoulders the instant after he felt the zing hit his gut. The beginnings of a smile short-circuited, probably for the better, but he blinked and said the only thing he could think of as the bell dinged and the doors opened, summoning him to the remainder of the evening's duty.

"Seems to be some of that going around, Tony."

Home at last, Gibbs stared at the hinged box in his hands without opening it. It was time to talk with Tony, he knew that, but he didn't have a rule to cover this situation other than Rule Five, and he had pretty much blown that one. His rules weren't perfect any more than he was, but they helped keep the chaos at bay, both his own and the kind created by the Stanley Alan Crawfords of the world who sliced young women to ribbons for what amounted to no reason at all.

Crawford, a.k.a Cheeseburger, hadn't stood a chance with him in interrogation. Forensics had him dead-to-rights, and as far as Gibbs was concerned his confession had been a foregone conclusion and NCIS but a stop on his road to Federal prison. Had his victim not been the wife of a Marine, Gibbs would have had no contact with the case or its aftermath.

Now he was holding the box labelled Gibbs' Rules and wondering what Shannon would think of the turn his life was taking. He honestly didn't know what lay in store, but Tony had opened a door this evening and Gibbs was damn sure going to walk through it.

It's about time.

He smiled.

"It's crazy, Shannon..."

No Jethro, it's Tony.

She hadn't known Tony but that little bit of nonsense didn't bother Gibbs at all. She had never really left him and when he consulted his rules he knew he was turning to Shannon. He had her to thank for the Rules in the first place even if he'd eventually broken them all except the one about dating a lumberjack. That one was safe. Some others might have to change, starting with Rule Twelve: Never Date A Co-worker. He had concocted that one in his bitterness over Jenny and had applied it pretty selectively if truth be told, mostly trying to keep a certain Anthony DiNozzo securely in his orbit.

He could change his own damn rules, he'd done it before. The last time a situation of his own making had blown up in his face the result had been Rule 51: Sometimes You're Wrong. He shook his head, abashed at his ego. The world had needed a rule stating that Leroy Jethro Gibbs could be wrong - sometimes?

Maybe the world hadn't, but he had. He'd needed the other rules he'd added too, like the Forties for life-or-death emergencies and the last one he had ever discussed with Mike Franks - the Unwritten Rule, the one about the things you do for family.

He closed the box, barely noticing that he'd opened it and was sifting through its contents. He had expected this to be a dead end but he was wrong. Old habits died hard, and being a creature of habit who needed at least a modicum of order in his life, Gibbs brightened at the realization that he really did want a new rule. It had to be a good one, one that didn't make him feel like an arrogant ass, one he wouldn't even consider writing down.

He knew what it was before he completed the thought. It was the right one and it would excuse nothing, cover everything. It was Gibbs' New Unwritten Rule and it was very simple.

Don't hurt Tony.

Tony's car in was not in the parking lot of his building, at least not anywhere Gibbs could see it. It was 2300, still early enough for the younger man to be getting a beer. He figured Tony would be too tired for a big night out, if he even did that anymore, but it didn't matter. He was here to talk to him, not stake him out, so he headed up.

In the carpeted hallway, Gibbs found the correct door and tried the knob. He didn't bother knocking. Tony never knocked on his door, and the idea seemed foolish, too tentative for what he had in mind. Tony was either at home or he wasn't, and Gibbs had a key. He'd never used it, but it fit - he was doing it.

He let himself in and stopped in his tracks, resisting the urge to check the number on the door. This was Tony's apartment? Leaving the door open, he stepped inside and began looking around, completely forgetting himself in the process. There was no sign of Tony - the man obviously wasn't here - but that wasn't it. Other than one poster, an array of DVD's immaculately shelved, and a baby grand piano, there really was no sign of Tony.

Almost twelve years in the same place and DiNozzo's home didn't look as if anyone lived in it. It could have been a photograph - gleaming, uncluttered, pristine. Gibbs knew Tony had taste, that he had matured, that cops often cultivated their personal spaces to be clean and bloodless, but... He turned in a slow circle, trying to understand the untouched elegance that was suddenly breaking his heart.

Lights on meant Tony probably wasn't out for long, so Gibbs did some quick, efficient snooping. Every wall he could see was whiter than snow, the magazines on the living room table were centered and spread in a perfect fan. There wasn't a mote of dust anywhere. The kitchen was all brushed nickel and black marble, beautiful and unused.

That left one room that mattered. It was a dirty, rotten thing to do, but Gibbs took a breath and opened the door to Tony's bedroom, only to have his blood run cold.

Nothing. Nothing on the walls, a single bed for crap's sake, and nothing on the floor - not a coat, cap, or backpack. It was just a space, as if everything that was really Tony were hidden away, out of sight...

In the closet.

It made sense, and one loud thought filled Gibbs' brain.

This is my fault.

He turned away and closed the door.

He'd made mistakes but had still thought himself Tony's staunchest ally, assigning the role of villain to Tony's father. How many times had he taken Senior to task for not loving his son, for thinking of no one but himself and not seeing Tony for the man he was?

For all the times Tony had waltzed into his living room, kitchen, or basement, Gibbs must have taken him for granted too. He was Tony and he did Tony things, just as Gibbs did Gibbs things. Christ, had he really been that stupid?

He heard Tony walking in the door and returned to the front door's sight-line, not wanting to start things off with a loaded gun in his face. Tony was twirling his keys uselessly in one hand and had a six-pack in the other. His expression was a curious mixture, having found his door open and Gibbs standing there looking stricken. Of all things, Tony was trying not to laugh. Gibbs just stared, trying to reconcile the smiling man in front of him with the sterility of his surroundings.

Tony dropped his keys next to the fishbowl that sat on a counter beneath his movies. He put the beer on the nearest available surface. He slouched out of his coat, tossing it over the end of the couch, and turned back to Gibbs with an even broader smile.

"Gibbs!"

He hissed it in a stage-whisper.

"I have a maid!"

Gibbs blinked, dipped his head, and gave a short laugh. He either hadn't known or had forgotten. Relieved, he smiled back at a now-laughing Tony, and the wheel turned. Gibbs was looking at a young detective, remembering a cold day in Baltimore.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Thank God, DiNozzo. I was about to look for pods under the..."

Ah shit.

"Gibbs, you didn't..."

What could he say?

"I did Tony, I..."

"You made a movie reference!"

Gibbs sighed at Tony's good grace. DiNozzo was no fool - this was a good start but it had gone on long enough.

The younger man motioned him to a black leather chair and took his own place near the end of the adjacent couch, nudging the coffee table away from their legs and cracking two beers in the process. He handed a beer to Gibbs then angled around to face him, taking a drink before leaning slightly forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands relaxed between them.

Gibbs relaxed and took a couple of idle sips, conforming to an old and familiar pattern. One of them would speak when ready, and this time it was Tony.

"You following me again?"

It was another recollection and Gibbs allowed himself a smile.

"Technically, no. I did get here first."

Tony huffed and shook his head, taking a sip of his beer.

"I thought this might be coming."

Gibbs drank and Tony continued.

"This mean we're going to talk?"

"If you want to."

"I'm not throwing you out."

"Like you could?"

"Don't tempt me."

It was as good an opening as any and Gibbs took it.

"Yeah, about that.."

"No."

Tony waved a hand and set his beer firmly on the coffee table.

"Let me start this time Gibbs. That morning...what did you mean when you said you'd been waiting for me?"

Gibbs took a deep breath.

"It was an excuse."

"So you've been biting it back. For how long? Do you hear what you're saying? You decided not to love me. Tell me the truth."

"I decided not to love you."

"Even though you did!"

"Yes."

"That's not exactly encouraging, Gibbs."

"I know Tony. I'm not proud of it."

"Who would be?"

"Don't tell me you don't get it."

"I don't!"

Despite his best intentions Gibbs was beginning to feel defensive.

"We all make choices."

"Yeah, that's really important to you, isn't it? You're lucky I'm still around! What the hell is wrong with you, Gibbs?"

"I didn't want to dictate your life, Tony. I was already your boss!"

"You did worse by not telling me, Gibbs, I hope you know that!"

The younger man was right, but Gibbs was determined to keep going until everything was out. He wasn't going to put words in Tony's mouth, nor were they going to agree to disagree.

"You never said anything."

"I thought it was obvious."

Gibbs felt like an asshole but he said it anyway, fortifying himself with another sip.

"Rule Number Eight."

Never take anything for granted.

Tony barked out a laugh.

"That's crap, it was obvious!"

"DiNozzo, what was obvious was that you were acting like a poster child for V.D.!"

"No way! Safety first!"

"Why'd you keep quiet?"

Tony became somber.

"I dunno. Maybe I thought it was up to you."

Gibbs looked at him from under his brows, turning the tables on him just a little.

"Could that have been an excuse?"

"Maybe. All I know is that I couldn't take the chance, Gibbs. If I'd been wrong..."

"You were offered your own team. You stayed even though you were pissed."

There was a pause.

"I couldn't be anywhere you weren't."

Gibbs felt guilty, seeing the younger man swallow as he spoke. Tony's decision had been far from easy. He said his next words as gently as he could.

"Did that make sense to you? That you didn't want to be where I wasn't?"

Tony sighed.

"Yeah. It did. It always did, even when I was feeling sorry for myself."

"Ah, DiNozzo. Don't...you're about the least self-pitying person I know."

"Less than you?"

"Way less."

Tony blinked curiously at that.

"You don't act like it."

"That's 'cause there's a choice, Tony. You choose the way you act, mostly. How you feel, not so much."

"And that makes sense to you?"

"Does now."

It did, and it had taken more than eleven years. Gibbs could tell by his face what Tony was thinking - would either of them be able to handle it. Gibbs believed they would, but right now it was awful. He saw the sheen in Tony's eyes through the sting in his own and then Tony was speaking in a voice that was small, too small.

"I knew."

"Tony, it's ok..."

"No, Gibbs, it's not! I mean I knew, I really knew, from day one. I knew what I wanted. I should have said something years ago. Gibbs, I am so sorry..."

"DiNozzo, don't!"

It was no surprise that after the anger Tony would take responsibility.

"I know, sign of weakness."

"NO! No, Tony it's not! It's not a sign of weakness, it's just wrong. Most of this is my fault. It was like you said - day one."

Tony raised his eyebrows in silent question. Gibbs said it again - because he wasn't letting DiNozzo take the blame and because it was true.

"Day one, Tony."

Gibbs was breathing hard and the younger man was holding his breath. For better or worse, it was done.

Tony was the first to recover.

"So what's the bottom line? We both knew and we both held out."

Gibbs grabbed on to the lifeline.

"Sounds like we're even."

"Forgive each other."

"Yeah. Completely."

Gibbs said it with conviction, as if forgiving each other would be the hard part.

"And ourselves. Don't forget that, don't you dare forget that, Tony."

Tony looked up and Gibbs knew it was time to be finished with all the words.

He stood and drew Tony to his feet, bringing the two of them firmly together, embracing the younger man with an arm around his waist and one hand behind his head, kissing his lips with tenderness and intent. It wasn't a passionate first kiss, probably not what either of them had imagined, but it was real and it held all that Gibbs could put into it, everything he wanted Tony to know and everything he needed in return. When Tony began kissing back, the remaining words in Gibbs' mind flew far, far away.

When they finally pulled back and stared at each other, when they could see through the tears neither was willing to wipe away, Gibbs thought Tony looked dazed, happy, sleepy. Gibbs figured he looked the same - it was one o'clock in the morning.

He didn't want to do it, but he had to go home. Tony wouldn't want him sleeping on the couch like a visitor after what they had just gone through, and Gibbs didn't want that either. Hell, he had his own couch, and Tony's room - Tony's room was a subject for another day - like tomorrow.

He gave Tony an apologetic look. The younger man grinned and nodded - they were on the same page.

He brushed his knuckles across the familiar cheek.

"See ya tomorrow, Tony."

"I get it. Sleep. But I want you to remember something, Gibbs."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and was halfway into a sloppy smile when Tony struck, capturing his face in both hands, locking onto his lips and kissing him with abandon. This time their tongues caressed, soft, velvety and wet. Tony tasted a little like beer and it was more than a little fantastic. It lasted until they were both out of breath.

"That's in case you were thinking about not coming back!"

"Didn't I just say I'll see you tomorrow?"

Tony's eyes sparkled.

"It's already today!"

"Then today, DiNozzo... I'll see you today."

Technically, it was today.

It was a good day. It was a good beginning.