Looking dubiously yet sullenly at the littered workbench, Tony arched a brow.

"You can't be serious, Boss. This is not the nineteen fifties…not anymore."

Silently shifting the selected assortment of tools into strategic piles of beginning, middle and end, Gibbs didn't reply right away. When everything was just so-so, he straightened up with his arms folding across his chest and levelled his second in command with a firm, but calm glare. "Tony. This is going to happen, one way or the other. It can either happen with you possessing the ability to sit or it can happen with you possessing the inability to sit. The choice is yours but the outcome will be the same. You need some time to cool off, lose the attitude and really think about what you did. I can tell you think that you don't deserve to be punished, but you do. So, here's an opportunity to have a little quiet time that's productive to boot. You're going to make this paddle and then after we discuss your behaviour in detail, I'm going to use it to tan your behind from here to Montreal. That's the end of the matter. Now, are we clear?"

Tony's eyes flashed with indignant anger in response.

"This is so fucking unfair."

The headslap was swift and it was severe. Speaking just loudly enough to be heard over the strangled squawk of pain, Gibbs took a dangerously close step towards his protégé. "If you ever use that sort of language towards me again, this little woodworking project is going to seem like the most thoughtful Christmas present you've ever received. Is that understood?" Grimacing both from the pain in his skull and the instant regret he felt about losing his cool, Tony nodded with the first trace of remorse he had shown all evening. "Yes Boss. Won't happen again." Swapping repentance for plaintiveness in a heartbeat, he didn't stop there. "But this is unfair. I didn't do anything wrong. I really didn't. I don't understand why you're so angry and trust me; I'm pretty much the authority on what makes you angry. I saved the case. You know I did. I know you didn't authorise an undercover operation, but what I did barely even qualifies as one. I just used my initative, like you taught me. I saw an opening and I took it and if I hadn't, we never would have got that confession and the case would have been thrown out tomorrow morning. You know it and I know it."

Gibbs shook his head, his exasperation levels rising like a melting reactor.

"Tony. I am not talking about this now. You are going to do what I've shown you to do and then we are going to talk about it. Now, do you have any questions about how to make it? You know which tools you're using and for what?" Staring with wide and angry eyes, Tony shook his head. "You already have a damned paddle; you've used it on me enough times so why do I have to make one? This is so stupid." Pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, Gibbs sighed. "I asked you if you had any questions about what you're doing, and that's all I want to hear from you right now. If you don't, then you get to work and I'll be down in about an hour to check on how you're doing. If you do, then ask me now so I can show you again. I am going to be far from impressed if you cut yourself because you're using a tool you're unsure of and were too pigheaded to ask me." He tilted his head to the side with a meaningful stare. "So, do you? Have any questions?"

Tony glared mutinously.

"Yeah, I got one. Do you derive actual pleasure from torturing me?"

The second headslap was just as swift and just as severe. "Get to work and get to work now," Gibbs growled. "I want to see progress when I come back down here and the consequences won't be pretty if I don't." He picked up the large chunk of heavy wood and pressed it carefully into Tony's hands. "Make your markings like I showed you and take care with the measurements. I want this paddle large enough to roast your butt but not so big so as to actually hurt you. Is that clear?" Fair eyebrows ascended with such speed that it almost stirred motion sickness in Gibbs as Tony spluttered in confused indignation. "What do you mean, not so big so as to actually hurt me? News flash Gibbs, I've been actually hurt every single time you've taken the damned paddle that you already have to my ass."

Shaking his head in tired anger, Gibbs knew he had to walk away. For both their sakes.

"Just do as you're told, Tony. For once, just do as you're damned well told." His mutterings were in parting instruction. Striding to the steps, he took them two at a time until he closed the door on the basement with such relief he felt almost guilty. Crossing to the fridge, he resisted the ice cold beer with more effort than it had taken in a long time. Instead, he pulled out some eggs and set about throwing together one of those damned omelettes Tony liked for dinner. Be in more trouble than he could quantify he may be, he still had to feed the kid. He worked in silence for several minutes, his head whirring. He expected to feel self doubt creep up on him, as it often did, about how he was dealing with Tony and his latest escapade. But it didn't come. It wasn't a frequent occurrence that he took a leaf out of his father's book when it came to disciplining one of his troops, but this was an exception. He remembered with uncomfortable sharpness the lesson he had learned from being forced to make the very paddle he would be punished with. It had been horrendous, but very effective.

His lips twitched slightly in remembering how uncannily similar his reaction had been to Tony's.

Though, to the kid's credit, he had taken the easier option of retaining his ability to sit before the paddle was made. Throwing the egg mixture into the pan on a low heat, he pottered around the kitchen for a while, before setting the table and dishing up dinner. Cooking wasn't his forte and the sorry plate reflected that, but it was edible. It had been just half an hour, but Tony should have had his markings done or nearly done, so he decided to check in a little early. Jogging down the steps in his patented red Corps hoodie and jeans he blinked in confusion when he arrived into an apparently empty basement. The wood block to be worked with was completely unmarked and lay unaltered on the workbench. Gibbs swallowed and rationalised that there were no operational windows in his basement and Tony wasn't quite as rebellious to smash his way out. Looking around the room more carefully, he felt a tongue of anger lick his gut as he spied his truculent looking second in command, sitting slumped in a corner, resolutely playing a game on his cell. Looking up at Gibbs with a very uncharacteristic rebelliousness, he shook his head with pursed lips.

"I'm not doing it, Boss. I don't care what you do to me, I was right and I am not doing it."

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A/N: Random Two/Three-Shot.

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