A/N: All publicly recognisable characters and settings belong to Someone In America. Anything verifiable belongs to Whoever, Whatever, or Wherever verifies them. Everything else belongs to me.

CREEEAAAAK! Please, no, don't wake up, Boss.

Squeak! I hope that was a mouse.

Screek! That one moved.

Tony exhaled heavily and wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his Armani trousers. Phew, he had made it to the cobbled garden path in one piece, but he felt like he had taken his life into his hands in getting there. The rickety steps and the moonless night coupled together to make an extremely hazardous exit.

He listened carefully for any indication of movement inside the house. The Boss had finally fallen asleep after being awake for nearly 48 hours solving a marathon case and preventing the deaths of four innocent people. The whole team had reconvened at Gibb's house for a debrief and takeout party. Ducky, Jimmy, McGee and Bishop had not stayed long, but Abby had stayed to help Tony and Gibbs clean up the pizza boxes and plastic containers, and other assorted detritus. Tony had stayed even longer, keeping his friend company until Gibbs had fallen asleep in front of the glowing embers of the fire in the living room. Tony had covered him with a warm blanket, turned out the lights, and left. Now that Gibbs was asleep, Tony did not want to wake him. After about a minute, there was no noise and Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned and considered the source of the peril behind him, the wooden steps leading up into Gibbs' kitchen. There was no way you are going to be able to sell this house for anywhere near a decent price, Boss, he thought. The moment they see that they'll run a million miles. Not to mention the palaver if someone falls and breaks an ankle. He fished out his flashlight and, in its dim light, he inspected the unsteady structure. I could do this, he thought as he mentally took note of the size and look of the material needed and the finished construction. Or at least most of it anyway.

Lost in thought, he hopped into his car and made his way to a nearby 24-hour Home Depot store. Mercifully it was late at night and there was not much traffic on the road, so Tony's lack of concentration did not result in anything more than a scratched bumper on his own car when he scraped a barrier as he was turning a corner.

Finding the carpark almost abandoned, Tony parked close to the entrance and ran in. In the practically empty warehouse-like building, he was able to find an attendant almost straight away, and they worked together to quickly get everything he needed, aided by the painted woodchip he'd broken off the side of Gibbs' stairs. The helpful staff member also threw in some extra advice in regards to health and safety.

"Tony! What are you doing here? Have you got any idea of the time?" Tony looked up from where he was setting up to start cutting planks of wood and grinned at the NCIS Auto Workshop employee.

"Hi, Simon! Surprise for the Boss. I almost got killed by his steps tonight, so I thought I would build him some more," he explained, exaggerating a little for effect and sympathy.

"Are you sure you should be handling power tools at this time of night? I could do that part for you," Simon offered.

Tony contemplated the offer. He really wanted to do it all himself, but since he had decided to include NCIS, there was insurance and liability to consider if anything went wrong.

"Okay, thanks," he reluctantly acquiesced.

As Simon finished cutting out each shape, Tony picked up a piece of sandpaper and starting sanding.

"Tony!" Simon admonished. "That's what this is for." He picked up the electric sander.

"I know. But Boss does it all by hand, so I will too," Tony informed him, and continued his task.

Simon shrugged his shoulders and started in on the next plank.

In short order, the small flight of steps was built (mostly by Simon, partly by Tony) and painted a light navy blue (totally by Tony, not at all by Simon).

"What now?" Simon enquired.

"How long will it take to dry?" Tony yawned.

Simon looked at his watch. "It'll be ready for transport at about 8am."

"Seven?" Tony argued.

Simon raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Are you trying to negotiate with a coat of paint?" he chuckled.

Tony smirked. "See you at seven!" he called as he went out to his car, crawled into the back seat and fell asleep.

"What on earth is going on?" Gibbs grumbled. "If someone is trying to break in, they are making a hell of a noise doing it! Not to mention, it is broad daylight." He checked his watch. 8:18am. After the epic investigation they had just wound up, his team would all be still asleep. He yawned. Heck, he should still be asleep. He put down his tools and jogged up the basement steps to investigate the banging and thunking that he could hear outside, but definitely on his property. He flung open the door to confront the would-be intruders.

"DiNozzo! What ARE you doing?" he yelled. There were broken wooden slats everywhere, the grass was littered with chipped paint, and there was a container of spilled nails by Tony's knee.

"Good morning, Boss!" he greeted cheerily. "I'm dismantling your steps."

"I can see that," growled Gibbs, with folded arms. "You do realise I can't get out of my house now?"

Tony scrutinised his mentor's face, and took note of the bags under Gibb's eyes and the hard set of his jaw. "Looks like you could do with a few days enforced house arrest," he remarked. "But since I can't do that, come back in half an hour." He shooed the older man back into the house, and was surprised when Gibbs not only went, but actually left him alone for exactly 30 minutes.

"Where did you find those?" He gazed at the newly erected blue steps, perfectly fitted in place of the old ones.

Tony ignored the question. "Look, Boss! You can sell your house now! Six steps, all safe!" He ran up and down them twice and was ecstatic when none of them moved an inch. So he ran up them to stand by the older man.

Six? That doesn't sound right, Gibbs thought. As he watched the young man, he counted. "Five, DiNozzo, five. If you can't even count, you definitely need food and sleep. Come on." He clapped his hand on Tony's shoulder, but Tony pulled away.

"One, two, three, four, five, SIX!" he chanted as landed on the ground.

Gibbs chuckled. "That last isn't a step, Tony. It's the ground!"

Tony turned around and planted both his feet on the fifth step. He then slowly moved until both his feet were planted on the ground. "So what would you call that?" he challenged.

"A step," Gibbs groaned.

Tony beamed. "One, two, three, four, five, SIX!" he repeated.

As they entered the house, Gibbs thought of something. "DiNozzo, why am I selling my house?"