Tony winced as the seemingly never ending verbal barrage that formed his well earned reprimand fell around his ears. The rebuke seemed to echo mockingly in the tight confines of his boss's office, or as mere mortals would describe it, the main elevator. He absentmindedly made to reach up and rub the searing sting from his head whilst looking as contrite as possible, but faltered and dropped his hand limply by his side as Special Agent Gibbs's eyes flashed a clear warning to his wayward senior agent.

Closing the already sparse distance between the two men, Gibbs reached out once more and issued another smart rapt across the back of the younger man's head. Predictably, the chastised Tony hissed and made to back away from his angry boss into the furthest corner of his metal confines. Putting a firm hand on his shoulder, the older agent effectively prevented his recalcitrant agent from squirming away, speaking quietly but menacingly, causing Tony to flinch further.

"This is your one and only warning DiNozzo. If you don't drop the smart ass attitude and back chat, you and I are going to have a serious discussion. You are the senior agent on this team, and I will not have you setting this wise guy example for McGee and David, and flouting my authority in the process. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you this last week, but you better god damn knock it off before I knock it out of you. Now, did you catch everything I just said, or do I need to repeat myself?"

Watching as the now subdued Tony shook his head meaningfully in the negative, and dropped his gaze in sheepish chagrin, the anger Gibbs felt with his most taxing, but rewarding, agent melted slightly. This attitude wasn't like Tony, sure he was lippy on his best days, but always in a jovial, class clown way. Not this sarcastic, scathing and disrespectful way. Instinctively knowing something was up with his agent, he dropped the hard assed gunny tone and placing a gentle finger under the kids chin, tipped his head up to level eye contact between them.

"Is there something bothering you Tony?" he asked simply but softly, silently castigating himself for his pretty hopeless skill level with the whole feelings arena. When Tony merely looked at him in confusion, he sighed somewhat. "This behaviour isn't like you" he explained in answer to the unspoken question.

Tony snorted in response, "isn't like me? Don't you keep telling me that I'm the reason for your early onset retirement plan boss?"

Very softly Gibbs extended his arm once more and tapped the younger agents head in gentle affection, not reprimand. "Yes, you are" he agreed smiling somewhat, "but no, this behaviour isn't like you. It's off character." Studying his usually bubbly agents somewhat sunken face, the former marine took a deep breath before stating quietly "you know if there's something wrong, you know outside of the job, you can tell me. It doesn't make you weak DiNozzo."

Tony's gaze raked the surprisingly open features of his usually closed off boss and opened his mouth hesitantly, before to Gibbs's frustration, his eyes clouded over with some unidentifiable emotion and he clamped the potentially behaviour explaining mouth tightly shut. Shaking his head and plastering on his trademark DiNozzo smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he held his hands up in a self deprecating gesture.

"No boss, I'm fine. I was just… out of line, it won't happen again" he explained in appeasing conviction, so much so that anyone who didn't know the man well would believe. To Gibbs's trained ear however it sounded forced, and unwillingly insincere. Sighing in frustration, he knew better than to try and force information from Tony, the more he pushed the more he would clam up. Nodding his head to the kid's weak explanation, he unblocked the emergency stop button of the elevator bringing it to life again as he so often did after an impromptu meeting in the makeshift office.

"Ok DiNozzo, just know the offers there. In the meantime, any more smartass lip or disobedience is highly inadvisable; don't make me make do something that I don't want to do but that I will, got it?"

Shaking his head obediently, but without seeming like he was really there, Tony mumbled "got it boss" and lapsed again into another uncharacteristically silent bout of thought as the elevator trundled back to their bullpen haunt.

After the intervention meeting of sorts, the week slipped by lazily and under Gibbs's watchful eye Tony was on his best behaviour. This was to the older agent's relief, but also to his concern. Tony was the model agent, but he wasn't Tony. He was polite, but guarded. Obedient, but absentminded. Watching the younger man work diligently at his desk when usually he would be attempting to goof off due to the cold cases the team were stuck on, caused Gibbs far more worry than he cared to admit.

His frustrations and attempts to come up with an idea to make the solemn Tony tell him what was bothering him were interrupted by an urgent call. Listening in rapt attention, Gibbs sighed in relief at the fact they had a new case. Standing immediately and reaching for his gun, he strode from the pen, barking over his shoulder at his team to grab their gear and move their asses.

It was as the team waited at the particularly grizzly crime scene for the arrival of Dr Mallard and his trusted puppy protégée Palmer, that the issue of Tony's previous attitude reared it's Gibbs enraging head once more. A squabble had broken out amongst Tony and Tim, which was admittedly far from unusual. Ziva had long since rolled her eyes at the juvenile pairing and had moved away to examine trees for potential gunshot fragments and was therefore out of the line of vision and audio when Tony decided to side step, stepping over the line, and instead flung himself over the line.

Unfortunately for Tony, Gibbs had retained a perfect line of vision on his two boys and both saw and heard first hand as the older agent pushed the junior one hard, against a nearby oak tree and raise his fist to strike. DiNozzo only had a few milliseconds to savour his outrageous pinning and verbal accosting of the stuttering McGee, before he felt a piercing and forceful yanking of his upper arm, pulling him away from the shocked probationary agent.

Gibbs retained his crab like hold on his now quiet senior agent ran his practiced eyes over his junior agent searching for any signs of injury. Satisfied that there were none, he calmly ordered McGee to join Ziva in searching the foliage some distance away which McGee did instantly, nearly tripping over his feet in haste.

"Boss – I…"

"Not one word out of your mouth DiNozzo, not one."

Tony snapped his mouth shut as his boss began to drag him unceremoniously towards the parked NCIS van. Yanking open the passenger side, the volatile agent thrust the younger man in and slammed the door shut. Stopping only to inform the freshly arrived Ducky and Palmer that they would have to drive McGee and David back when they completed the crime scene work, Gibbs hopped in the van and roared it into life.

Palmer stared after the rapidly retreating van in evident confusion.

"Dr, do you think Tony has taken ill?" he asked in genuine concern of his own mentor, alarmed by Gibbs's abrupt tone and Tony's paled complexion.

Ducky, having had much more experience of the dynamics of the two departed men chuckled softly in response.

"No, not ill Mr Palmer. Though I daresay his physical condition may well be on the edge of significant soft tissue deterioration."

Palmer nodded in what he hoped was a sage manner, not having a mere sniff of a clue as to what the rather eccentric doctor was actually saying but knowing that there were certain aspects of the extended team he had been thrust into that he would never understand.

Tony felt the air in the cab of the squealing van to be in scarce supply as he gulped it down his windpipe, all the while shooting furtively appraising glances at his resolutely silent and seething supervising agent. He had long since decided firmly against speaking, knowing that the time for words had taken up firm residence on the proverbial sailing ship. Instead he settled for mentally chastising himself. He couldn't even believe his own actions in physically touching another agent in anger, an agent under his own command at that. An agent who, though he'd never admit it, was his friend.

He closed his eyes in desperation at his own stupidity and wondered who in the hell would employ him now. He knew that Gibbs couldn't deal with this in their usual….manner. He was positively sure he'd gone far too far this time; Gibbs would have no choice but to report the incident to the director who would quite rightly insist on his immediate transfer out of the NCIS and into, presumably, the vast expanse of unemployment that waited with open arms and curled lips for the law enforcement agent who attacked his own. As the van swerved dangerously into the naval crime base he winced as a short, loaded order made its way from the previously muted driver.

"Out. Conference Room Four. Now."

As Tony obediently did as he was told, the van sped away once more, presumably being returned in a less than ideal condition. Entering the federal building wearily under the weight of his own foolishness, the saddened and guilty agent made his way quickly towards and into the Gibbs commandeered conference room that was housed in a separate wing of the building that only janitorial staff visited briefly each day. As he plopped himself down miserably in the nearest available chair, he couldn't help but think about the first time, many years ago now, that Gibbs had dragged him to the isolated, sound proofed and observation window/camera devoid room. His face flushed at the memory of his first meeting with the older man's belt.

Glancing around the room he realised with chagrin that he'd actually miss it when he was gone. Not because of the various and many corrections he'd received in it, he snorted, god no. The comfort his boss never failed to give him afterwards, however, yes. He cringed somewhat as he realised he'd received more hugs and words of reassurance from his supervising agent in this room down through the years, than he ever had from his own father from the day he was born.

As the thought of his father infiltrated his mind, he closed his eyes and tried to force it back out. His god damn "father" was the cause of this he thought in fury. If he hadn't come stumbling back into his life, after years of sporadic at best contact, none of this would have happened. Every time his borderline estranged father reached out to him, it would eventually end in tears. This time, it was the scathing criticism of DiNozzo Senior of his son's career choice and promotion progression that ignited a particularly vicious row. Tony squeezed his eyes tighter shut as he remembered the loaded words his father had spoken of his achievements, or according to him, lack thereof. He was suddenly jerked out his reverie as the conference room door snapped open suddenly, and a grim looking Gibbs stormed in.

Seeing his hard headed agent slumped in a chair and staring quietly at the floor, he clicked his fingers and indicated to a spot on the floor, right in front of him.

"Front and centre right now DiNozzo. Move it."

Tony obediently moved into the familiar position, except this time he wasn't sure what for. Usually Gibbs would take time in reaming him before warming his rump. This time, it seemed redundant seeing as he was out of NCIS in a matter of working days.

Taking a deep breath he looked into the eyes of his more-than-just-a-boss boss and felt an intense pang of misery when he thought about how much he would miss him. Steadying himself, he asked the one set of questions that mattered most to him in the moment, intentionally doing so before Gibbs could say anything.

"Can I please apologise to McGee before I go? Do you think he'll see me? Do you think the director would allow it?"

It wasn't often that the seasoned Jethro Gibbs struggled for words, but this was an exception.

Staring at the clearly pained agent for a few seconds, he eventually managed a not so impressive "huh?"

Staring at Gibbs in frustration, Tony fought to keep from throwing his hands up in the air in angst.

"Do you think Tim will talk to me before I go? Please bo…Gibbs, I need to apologise to him."

The dawning of realisation was beginning to cross the older man's face, but he needed clarification.

"Go? Go where DiNozzo?" he inquired, with a certain…something to his tone.

Is he being deliberately dense thought Tony, in the beginnings of irritation.

"I mean before I get fired" he eventually explained quietly, dropping his gaze to the floor once again. Although he knew it was going to happen, saying the words out loud made it terrifyingly true. Biting his lip to keep it from trembling, he waited nervously for Gibbs's response. He didn't anticipate that his response would be non verbal. Feeling the familiar searing pain at the back of his hand, he automatically reached up to rub it furiously.

Watching the surprised Tony yelp at the well delivered head slap and massage his stubbornly thick skull, Gibbs suppressed the urge to reach out again and smack him into next week. He settled for grasping the clueless kid by the shoulder and leaning further into his personal space that ever ought to be necessary. Tony predictably grimaced as he was pinned into his boss's grasp with nowhere to turn. Looking his reprobate agent straight in the eye, he ground out in true to form pissed off Gibbs style.

"You think I told the director about this DiNozzo?"

One look at the pooled sadness in the younger mans eyes told him all he needed to know, even without the affirmative jerk of the head Tony meekly offered in response. Sighing in frustration at the kids still obvious insecurities, he quickly turned the now silent agent to the side and quickly landed a volley of firm and deliberate swats across his backside. Tightening his grip in response to the squawking attempts to break free the surprised man was making, he added another rapid succession of resounding swats on the vulnerable rear.

Releasing his hold on the now quietened younger man, he watched in silence as Tony's hands flew back to rub the sting from his backside and protect it from further attack. When Tony's eyes eventually met his he answered the unspoken question they contained.

"You should god damn well know by now that I would never permit you to be fired, not even when you deserve to be. That's what that was for" he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As murderously furious as he was with his senior agent and as well practiced he was at playing the tough gunny boss, even Gibbs had to fight to suppress a smirk at the look of staggering relief, tinged with surprise that covered Tony's face in response.

"Really?."

Peering up at his boss, Tony suddenly looked every part like an unsure little boy.

"Yes, really DiNozzo" Gibbs replied quietly. The fact that Tony still had such a hard time believing that he, or indeed anyone, would go above and beyond to protect him at all times still tore at his heart.

Pushing away these feelings, he willed himself to return to the present moment. Although he would never willingly let the kid be fired, there was no way on god's green earth his latest screw up was going to go without notable consequence. Feeling his face take on its firmest disposition, he once more pinned Tony down with a glare and spoke in a consciously forced level tone.

"Now, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on with you and why the hell you thought it was perfectly ok to push, yell at, and attempt to strike a fellow agent?"

The relief that had flooded through Tony like a burst dam now gave way to trepidation. If he wasn't going to get fired, he was now seriously in for it in other ways. Distinctly unpleasant ways. Clearing his throat nervously, he decided in the split second that he stared at his glowering boss just to come clean about what had caused his attitude to nosedive, taking his normally bouncy personality along with it.

"I..I've had a bad week or two boss. My father….you know how we don't really….well, you know. He turned up at my apartment a week or so ago, as he does every couple of years and we pretty much got into it. I really let it get to me, and I dealt with it…well I guess I dealt with it like a child. At the crime scene, McGee and I were disagreeing about whether or not the petty officer could have committed suicide and it turned into a disagreement. McGee said something that…well, that reminded me of something my father said and I guess I lost my cool a bit. That's no excuse for what I did however and I'm sorry boss"

Dropping his eyes from his boss's, Tony gazed at the floor miserably.

Gibbs for his part could have kicked himself as he listened to his agent's explanation. It was a testament as to how irritated he was with himself that he didn't launch into his usual dressing down giving that ensued when he felt his people were making excuses for their behaviour. Now that Tony had explained what was ailing him, it was glaringly obvious and he should have seen it. The only thing that made his agent act in the way he had been behaving was his extremely flawed father.

The older agent felt his jaw tighten when he thought of DiNozzo Senior, more particularly what he would like to do to DiNozzo Senior. He breezed in and out of Tony's life when it suited, why it suited and then left without a backwards glance and he had to watch the turmoil DiNozzo Junior would go through before eventually pulling himself together, until the next visit that is.

Sighing he strode forward and tried not to grimace as he saw Tony wince, clearly expecting a Gibbs slap. Tilting the young man's head up from the floor with a gentle finger, he leant into his personal space once again, this time in a much more reassuring than reprimanding manner.

"Whatever he said to you Tony, you need to know that it means nothing. He may well be your father, but he doesn't know you. He doesn't know the exceptional young man that you are, and one day he'll realise that and regret it. Until then, don't you ever let him tear you down like this again. You're who you are in spite of him, not because of him. You got that?"

Tony looked agape at his usually emotionally stunted boss's display of candid openness. Nodding his head dumbly, he felt a rush of affection for the older man.

Stepping back from the younger mans personal space once more, Gibbs also nodded, his gruff manner returning as a matter of course, unused to giving such a long speech about anything non work related. Sighing in reluctance, he realised that no matter what the provocation for his agents actions there was no still no way he could let it slide without consequence.

As if reading the older man's mind, Tony gave a slight jerk of his head and slipped out of his NCIS field work jacket. Draping it over the chair he just arose from, he walked more determinedly than he felt to the nearby mahogany desk planted squarely in the middle of the room. With the air of someone who had been there many times before, he quickly placed his palms downwards on the shiny surface and bent over it.

He bit his lip to keep it from trembling as he heard his supervising agent move into position behind him. He bit down on it harder when he heard the tell tale sound of his boss unbuckling his belt, and the whooshing sound of the heavy leather being pulled quickly through the belt loops. As the warm hand came down on the small of his back, both restraining him and comforting him, he closed his eyes in anticipation of the familiar fire that was about to be lit across his backside.

As he placed his hand on the small of his agents back, Gibbs closed his eyes in reluctance. He never relished having to take any of his people in hand, but when the person was Tony, and the reason why he had acted the way he had was laid out before him, it made what he had to do a whole lot harder. Steeling himself he reminded himself sternly that Tony's behaviour was still entirely unacceptable and that McGee could have been seriously injured had he not intervened in time.

Raising the belt high, the older agent brought the first of what would be many strokes down hard across both cheeks of his upturned agent's backside. As he always did, Tony yelped loudly at the first searing blow and bucked sharply under Gibbs's strong hand. Applying more pressure to steady the younger man, the belt came down quickly once more, landing expertly underneath its predecessor.

Gibbs soon settled in a time practiced rhythm, bringing down each stroke of the belt in rapid succession, allowing just enough time in between for the sting to reach its peak, but not enough to allow any kind of an appreciable respite.

Tony soon began whimpering and squirming slightly as the heat began to rise across his rear. Gibbs was meticulous in his discipline methods, bringing the belt down heavily across every square inch of the exposed posterior. Another whimper of lament escaped Tony's lips as his squirming was put to an abrupt end by a well placed warning swat across his sit spots and increased pressure on the restraining hand placed on his back. As Gibbs began another cycle of deliberate swats at the top of his already furiously stinging backside, the first of many tears sprang up in his eyes.

A few moments later the embryonic tears had grown up, moved out, taken out a mortgage and become full on howling. Tony had completely abandoned all pretences at a stoic and gallant acceptance of his punishment, and was categorically sobbing into his arms as his silent boss continued to rain down stroke after stroke on his previously perfectly pale and unassuming rear. As a fresh progression of swats began anew, the loud sobs and promises of perfect behaviour from now till death do us part gave way to silent racking sobs, that radiated through the otherwise now limp and still body that lay slumped across the desk.

Biting down on his lip against the feelings of guilt that racked his own body, Gibbs began to draw Tony's punishment to a close, to his own extreme relief. Tipping the kid forward slightly by increasing the pressure on his back for the last time, he reluctantly applied one last volley of well placed and unyielding strokes on the already well chastised sit spots of his senior agent. At the conclusion of the last swat, he dropped the belt from his hand immediately and the hand that previously housed it went instinctively to the small of his quietly sobbing agents back.

Leaning over to be closer to the still sobbing Tony, he began to mutter words of reassurance to the boy, all the while rubbing consistently comforting circles on his back. He stayed in that position with his agent for several minutes, talking to him in a soft, gentle and very un-Gibbs voice, keeping his hand loosely on his back.

When Tony's crying had whittled out into gentle snuffling and sniffling, Gibbs stepped back to give him some space to compose himself and stand up at his own pace. Snatching his belt off the floor, he quickly threaded through his pants loops, not wanting Tony to see it as any more than another mere article of clothing when he stood up.

A few moments later Tony had comported himself enough to stand up and wipe his hand across his wet eyes. His normally pristine hair that caused him so much vain pleasure, was loose around his eyes and hung limply over his forehead. His face was flushed and he winced as he moved away from the desk, the fabric of his trousers rubbing mercilessly against his presumably enflamed backside. Peering up through the unusual curtain of hair that framed his eyes at his boss, he looked sheepishly rueful.

Casting an appraising eye over his senior agent for a moment, Gibbs did not speak, he merely opened his arms widely and raised an eyebrow at his now puppy dog look-a-like reprobate. The traditional goofy grin that spread across the kids face was not unprecedented and it caused the older man to snort somewhat affectionately as the younger man fell into his outstretched arms for their now ritualised post-spanking, "slate is wiped clean" hug.

Pulling the silly kid into him tightly, Gibbs took the opportunity to whisper into his ear "do not even think about making me do this again for a long time DiNozzo, it's not exactly picnics and roses for me either, got it?"

As the young agent pulled away from him and nodded his head in rueful chagrin, Gibbs reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately "that's my boy."

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had been absent from the investigation for well over two hours at this stage. Sighing, he assessed the pros and cons of sending Tony home for the day to recover or keeping him with him.

He decided against sending the boy home. Tony always liked to be, and needed to be close to him after any kind discipline session he had earned himself. Gibbs would only admit to himself, and even that was at a push, that he too liked keeping the kid close by after tanning his backside, his deep seated paternal feelings for the recalcitrant agent manifesting itself in a desire to watch over him until he was back to his bouncy class clown self.

"Ok DiNozzo, you take a few moments and get yourself together, but then I need you back up in the bull pen ready to work and to apologise to McGee, is that clear?"

"Yes boss" came the automatic reply, but as Gibbs took in the demeanour of his now seemingly lost in thought agent, he frowned in concern.

"What is it Tony?" he asked gently, always mindful of any changing emotions the kid may experience after a chat where the main conversationalist was his belt.

The agents face flushed and he looked away in obvious embarrassment, "nothing boss" he answered unconvincingly.

"Tony?" Gibbs's voice had taken on an edge of anxiety. "What is it? What are you thinking? Come on, talk to me."

The still silent agents gaze found the floor, and his face flushed a deeper shade of ruby red.

Clearing his throat he eventually managed to stutter out an answer, albeit shamefacedly.

"I was just..thinking. Well, I was just wondering..what it would be like if I actually was your boy" he eventually offered in mumbled mortification, clearly referencing his boss's term of affection as he had ruffled his hair moments previously.

Closing the space between them in two strides, Gibbs reached up and gently slapped the back of the embarrassed Tony's head.

"There is no 'if' DiNozzo. There has never, ever been an if."