Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

Spoilers: 11.06 Oil and Water; borrowed a quote or two from 8.22 Baltimore.

A/N: The basic idea for this one actually came to me before the credits even rolled on this episode, but due to real life, the words didn't come until late Sunday night.

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Gibbs had no idea how long he'd been immersed in working on his latest project in his basement when he heard the front door open and then softly close. Smoothing plane held loosely in his hand, he straightened from his work and tilted his head to listen, trying to determine the identity of his late-night visitor.

He became concerned when he didn't immediately recognize the odd, shuffling tread above him. Gibbs set the plane down and keeping his eye on the entrance to the basement, he stepped backward until his hip hit his workbench. Reaching underneath, he laid a hand on the weapon he'd long ago hidden under it and waited to see if his visitor would turn out to be a friend or foe.

Just before his visitor would have become visible in the doorway, the off-sounding footsteps stopped. Then after a long, tense moment, they started up again, but judging from the sound, they were heading away from his basement door. He stayed where he was, intently listening and matching the path of the footsteps to the floor plan of his house. The irregular footfalls went from his kitchen to his living room before going silent.

The longer he thought about it, the more he was convinced that whoever was in his house, their strange gait could be explained away if it was a limp. Logic dictated that was why the visitor hadn't bothered to come down into the basement; they were waiting for him to come up. His gut was telling him his unknown visitor was a friend, so he took his hand off his hidden handgun.

In case his gut was wrong, Gibbs cautiously made his way up the stairs, but heard no noises beyond his feet on the stairs. Opening the door leading into his living room from his kitchen, he finally laid eyes on his unexpected visitor.

"I admit I was a little slow on the uptake, but I finally got there in the end," a voice called out.

"Thought you might," Gibbs replied, stepping further into the room.

He surveyed the room before him. DiNozzo was sitting on his couch, trying to look perfectly relaxed, as if he didn't have a care in the world. The effect was spoiled by his senior agent's stiff posture and next words.

"By the way, thanks for throwing me under the bus. I thought we established a long time ago that I don't like getting played."

Gibbs half expected for the younger man's next words to be: Having said that… Well played. Instead, an angry silence fell over the room, each of them waiting for the other to break it.

Having been distracted by Tony's words when he had entered the room, he had momentarily forgotten about the limp he thought his unknown-at-the-time visitor probably had. That idea suddenly came back to the forefront of his mind as they continued to hold each other's gaze. Unfortunately, where he was standing in the room meant that DiNozzo's lower legs and feet were hidden by his coffee table; he couldn't tell exactly what, if anything, was wrong. However, the fact that his agent had yet to get up from the couch was decent evidence towards the conclusion that Tony had somehow gotten himself hurt. Adding in DiNozzo's choice of conversation topics and the annoyed tone of voice, Gibbs could only come up with one conclusion.

Apparently, he was a little slow on the uptake as well.

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt," he admitted, breaking the tense silence.

Tony threw his arms up into the air in frustration. "Well, if you didn't mean it, then it must be okay," the younger man obnoxiously replied, his voice oozing sarcasm.

Using his arms for leverage, DiNozzo unsteadily stood up from the couch, his face momentarily grimacing in pain before clearing to an almost blank slate. From the way his agent was standing, it seemed that it had been Tony's left leg had been injured in some way.

Pointing a finger at him, Tony continued, "I seriously should have known. The nature of the prank on Abby. Pointing out that I had still been in the office when you left." The younger man shook his head before pointing at himself. "I finally did something my esteemed colleagues failed to do or even think of – I got proof. I'm considering framing one of the stills from the security footage of our floor." He mimicked hanging a frame on the nearest living room wall.

When he finished, there was a mischievous gleam in the man's eye as he asked, "Just curious, how much did that industrial-sized roll of plastic set you back, Boss?"

Gibbs couldn't help but smirk at DiNozzo's words, but he had to admit he was proud of his senior agent, and maybe just a little disappointed with the rest of his team. McGee, not to mention Abby, could have just as easily have had proof of who the prankster was, but instead everyone automatically blamed Tony. Granted, in the past, the younger man had pulled many a prank, but in the end, they had all made an assumption as to who was guilty.

But it was him who had really and truly messed up by breaking his own rule number one: Never screw over your partner. In weighing down Tony's backpack, Gibbs had been trying to cure his team of their assumption, but evidently that attempt had backfired and his agent had been injured.

"Did Agent Borin come by to report on the success of your latest prank?" He must have had a questioning look on his face because Tony pointed at his nose and said, "Abigail Borin might be a tough-as-nails Marine and Coast Guard agent, but she definitely loves her jasmine perfume."

"She was here on a completely unrelated matter."

After a moment, Tony asked, "Did you offer her a place on the team?"

Gibbs really shouldn't have been surprised by his friend and senior agent anymore, but occasionally he could still be caught off guard. He remained silent, hoping his expression wasn't giving anything away.

The look he was given and the fact that his agent continued speaking as if Gibbs had actually answered the question in the positive, quickly confirmed that DiNozzo wasn't fooled by the lack of answer.

"Not that I don't think Agent Borin isn't a highly-capable investigator, but I just don't think you two could work together long term on the same team. If she ever wants to make a change, I can't quite see her being happy here. I think she'd like it better down south…perhaps in New Orleans."

Suddenly Tony's expression changed as if he had figured something out. "She knew that it was you, didn't she? It's probably some old Marine prank. Am I right?"

"Yep." Gibbs knew it was useless to deny the truth.

"Figures. The others were plagued by relatively harmless pranks, but I end up face-planting on the carpet and spraining my ankle because of the one you pulled on me."

Since he had already broken one rule today, Gibbs decided it wouldn't hurt to break another.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I was just…" Gibbs trailed off unable to properly articulate what he had been trying to do.

But DiNozzo got it, just as he knew his friend would. "Yeah, I know. We all miss her, Boss," Tony grinned. "But there have got to be less painful ways of lightening up the mood, don't you think?"

Gibbs matched DiNozzo's grin with one of his own.

He followed along as Tony started limping towards the front door. "I've got to get home so I can elevate the joint and take something for the pain. My ankle is definitely not a happy camper!"

"Should you be really driving?"

Tony shrugged before continuing towards the door. "Probably not, but I did okay on the way over here."

"You didn't go see Ducky?"

"Seriously?" DiNozzo incredulously said, turning back to face him. "You think by now that I don't know a sprained ankle when I get one?"

"You're going to see him tomorrow, got it?" he ordered with a tone that didn't invite any arguments to the contrary.

DiNozzo raised a hand to wave him off as he resumed his limping. "Yeah, yeah. I got it, Boss. You realize that I'm going to be on desk duty for a couple of days, don't cha?"

"And you realize that you're staying here tonight, don't cha?" He asked mimicking Tony's phrasing.

"Gibbs, I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself," Tony said as he rolled his eyes.

"It's the least I could do," he countered, adding a glare to get his point across.

"Fine," his friend said, frustration heavy in his voice.

Tony turned towards the staircase. "I'm going start heading up." With a white-knuckle grip on the banister, DiNozzo began a careful ascent of the stairs. After a couple of stair steps, he stopped, turned slightly, and said, "Goodnight, Gibbs."

Then he sprinted up the stairs.

At the top he cheekily promised, "Don't worry Boss; I won't let the others know you were the prankster or that I managed to get you back."

Gibbs answered that remark the only way he could – with a glare that would normally make someone spontaneously combust. With a slightly worried look on his face, Tony headed down the hall. A moment later, Gibbs heard the guest bedroom door quietly close.

It took him all of two seconds to lose his composure and begin quietly laughing.

Well played, Tony.

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The end.

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A/N: Fun fact: I was originally going to make this an angsty story and have Tony's injury be real. To be honest, I'm happy that comedy won out in the end. I needed a laugh.

Beta awesomeness by ncismom; remaining mistakes are my fault.

Thanks for reading!