Therapy, According to Gibbs

Summary: Part of my 'Lessons' series. Another tag to Nine Lives. Warning: discussion of spanking of adults. Don't like? Don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them.

A/N: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. This story contains references to the disciplinary spanking of adults. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.

FBI Agent Tobias Fornell headed towards Gibbs's basement, still not entirely sure what he was doing here. He had already – with Gibbs's help – deflected most of the heat from the Bureau. And Gibbs had already told him quite definitively that he should stop obsessing about the mistakes he made on this case, and move on. And he was right about that. It was impossible to have a career in law enforcement and not screw up the occasional case. Nobody could be perfect, and it was unreasonable to expect yourself to be. And dwelling on the past could be dangerous; you needed to have your mind in the game, and on the present. But knowing that Gibbs was right, knowing that he needed to put this behind him and move on, didn't mean that it felt right yet. So here he was, hoping to talk things over – again – with his old friend, and hoping that this time he could get his head screwed on straight so he could go to work in the morning and not get someone killed.

As expected, he soon found himself perched on a relatively sawdust-free sawhorse, sipping on bourbon from a Mason jar while Gibbs continued to work on his boat.

And, as expected, Gibbs didn't so much give him a pep talk, as tell him to get his head out of his ass.

It was only after a half-hour of watching Gibbs work, and listening to him outline in excruciating detail why he needed to put this case behind him, that anything unexpected happened.

Although, really, it wasn't so much 'unexpected' as it was shockingly unthinkable.

Because, really, how could he ever have imagined that those words would come out of his friend's mouth, directed at him? He'd known about Gibbs's discipline methods, or at least had a strong suspicion, after that workshop on interagency cooperation a few years back. But it hadn't occurred to him that Gibbs's approach to keeping DiNutso in line could be extended to him.

Gibbs had sighed, turning away from the boat and looking at him straight-faced while he asked, 'So? You gonna get past this yourself? Or did you come here because you need me to spank you for it?'

Fornell sputtered, needing several tries before he could choke out a vehement 'no'.

'Ok,' Gibbs replied with a shrug, as if there was actually a chance he might have agreed. 'Let me know if you change your mind.'

'You can't be serious!'

'Why not? It works.'

'But...'

'C'mon, Tobias! You know how it works. You pay for your screw-up, you stop feeling guilty, you move on, and nobody ends up getting shot because you can't see past your last mistake.'

'You sound like my priest. And I don't need a sore ass to do penance.'

'No, but it's faster. And a sore ass is better than a bullet in your brain.'

'And I suppose you let someone spank you when you screw up a case?'

'When I need it.' Gibbs said, shrugging again and turning back to his sanding.

Fornell stared at his friend in disbelief, mentally running through a list of candidates. Gibbs barely tolerated talking to the current Director of NCIS, and the last one wasn't much better; there's no way he'd accept actual punishment from either of them. Tom Morrow, maybe. It was probably some damn Marine thing, anyway. There certainly wasn't anyone who'd still be spanking the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And there was no way in hell that he was accepting a spanking from Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

'I'm not one of your agents,' he pointed out.

'Why do you think I'm giving you a choice?'

Fornell could hear the smile, even though he couldn't see his friend's face.

Shaking his head vehemently, and pointlessly, since Gibbs's back was still turned, he insisted, 'Jethro, I am not letting you spank me!'

'Ok. Offer's there if you need it.'

'Well, thanks, but no thanks,' he replied, hoping he was able to keep most of the disdain out of his voice. Damned stubborn Marine...