Knowing Gibbs

By SherryGabs

Rated: K+

Summary: Tony thinks he knows Gibbs so well. Little does he know the Bossman still has some surprises in him.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: Don't need to own the characters. My imagination has enough fun just borrowing them.

Not beta'd. Any and all mistakes and overabundant use of commas are mine.

NOTE: Got the idea for this story after watching an episode I recorded recently. Don't remember which one, and now I wish I hadn't deleted it after watching so I could get the title. Anyhoos, there was a scene where McGee asks Tony how much money he made and Tony just grinned and rubbed his fingers together making it seem like he made a lot more than the lowly probie. Well, anyway, in this story, Tony gets a lesson in humility. Hope you like.

ooooOOOOoooo

Tony hummed happily to himself as he walked off the elevator and into the squadroom of NCIS. Strutting into the cubicled section of four desks known as the "bullpen" for Team Gibbs, he tossed his backpack into the corner of his cubicle and leaned on the front of his desk.

Still smiling he eyed his two coworkers who, as usual, managed to get there on time and before him. "Soooo, Zeeeva and McGoo… how was your weekend?"

Tim eyed him, wondering why Tony even cared. "I completed three new chapters to my second book."

Tony just yawned. "Yeah, like that's exciting. What about you, Officer Daaavid."

"I read a novel, cleaned my apartment from top to bottom and cooked a week's worth of meals for my sick, elderly neighbor." Ziva didn't even bother to look up from her paperwork to answer him.

"Well, aren't you little Miss Goody-two-shoes," Tony gave her a mock sneer.

She looked up at him with a hint of disapproval. "At least I make good use of my time. When was the last time you did a good deed for a neighbor?"

Tony raised a finger and opened his mouth to give her a good example. After several seconds, he closed his mouth and frowned. "I don't even know any of my neighbors. Why would I do anything for them?"

Ziva rolled her eyes and went back to her work.

"You guys want to know how I spent my weekend?" Tony's grin was back, promising a tale including a female or two and wrinkled sheets.

"Nope." Tim had worked with Tony long enough to know he wanted to be spared the gory details.

"I'd rather jam this pencil through both my eardrums," Ziva answered with conviction.

"Ouch!" Tony cringed. "Ah, come on! It was great! I even bought this new suit for the occasion." He spread his arms and circled to show off his new designer suit. "It's Versace! Italian made. I had to look extra good for the best restaurant in the DC area and a gorgeous blond hanging on my arm."

Ziva and Tim just groaned and chose to ignore him. Agent Gibbs, also known as "Boss" had just rounded the corner towards his desk when he saw Tony do his twirl and brag about his clothes.

He set his ever-present coffee cup down on his desk and glared at Tony. "If you're done with your pirouette, DiNozzo, take your ballet shoes off and GET TO WORK!"

Tony smoothed his tie and looked embarrassed. "Sure thing, Boss." He took his seat and noticed the smirks on his co-workers' faces. "None of you have an appreciation for the finer things in life."

"Sure we do, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, turning his computer on. "We just don't feel the need to prove that we're capable of it or the need to shove it in everyone else's faces."

Tony knew he should keep his mouth shut, but couldn't help himself. "Well, not all of us can only afford to shop at Walmart."

This earned him an angry glare from all three. Gibbs got up and stood in front of Tony's desk, his arms crossed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tony swallowed nervously and dug himself in deeper. "Well, all those alimony payments, house in a middle-class DC suburb—that has to cost. What you spend on materials for building boats. It's perfectly understandable your need to budget."

Both Tim and Ziva's eyes grew wide and they looked at each other, not believing what Tony was saying. Did he have a death wish? They leaned forward not wanting to miss anything.

Gibbs put his hands down on Tony's desk and leaned forward, a disarming smile on his face. "What makes you think I'm paying alimony to anyone?"

"Well," Tony cleared his throat of the lump formed there. "Of course you would be. It's how divorce works. Just ask my father, he's been married and divorced four times."

"Good thing I'm not in his position," Gibbs said, leaning even further in. "For your information, Agent DiNozzo, my first ex-wife made more money than I did. The judge didn't grant alimony. I did pay it to ex number two for a few years, but that stopped when she married Fornell. Ex-wife number three never asked for alimony. She was more than happy just to be rid of me."

"Oh," was all Tony could say.

"And furthermore… my house was paid off years ago. My truck was paid off years ago. I have zero credit card debt. Bet you can't say that." Waiting for Tony's response and not getting one from the frowning agent, he went on. "That expensive apartment you have, the pricey sports car you drive, all those designer clothes and fancy restaurants. I know how much your paycheck is—which, by the way, is much less than mine. You have to be in debt up to your eyeballs."

Tony paled and felt nauseous at the look of satisfaction on Gibbs' face, knowing he was right in his deductions. "Well, it is the American way. Gotta keep the economy going," he chuckled sickly.

"Uh-huh," Gibbs stood up again. "And I have retirement to look forward to. I want it to be a long and comfortable one. Pension and social security will only go so far. You need to keep things like that in mind and plan ahead, DiNozzo. You are not a kid anymore and you need to think about your future."

Knowing by the look of concentration on Tony's face Gibbs knew he got his point across and went back to his desk to claim his coffee cup and headed towards the elevator to go down to autopsy.

Tony was still reeling at the words "you're not a kid anymore". Well, I'm not exactly ready for a nursing home yet! But glancing at the year on his calendar forced him to realize he was much closer to middle-age than college-age. He groaned audibly in despair.

Ziva got up and walked over a huge smile on her face. "What's the matter, Tony?" She sounded like she was talking to a child. "Did Gibbs hit the screw on the top?"

Tony looked confused, then fixed her idiom. "That's nail on the head. And it's none of your business!" He finished with a scowl.

He had to listen to Ziva and McGee laugh at his expense. "What? You saying you're not in any debt, Ziva?"

"I do have a car loan, which will be paid off next year. But I do not have credit card debt."

"I know you do, McGeek. You named off a dozen of them when you had your identity stolen." Tony turned on Tim.

"That's true," Tim said wisely and with a smile. "But I don't use all of them and I never charge any more than I can pay off each month. I also have an IRA, 401K, credit union savings—"

"All right! I get the picture. Geez!"

"And I happen to love Walmart," Tim added with a grin as he went back to work.

"As do I," Ziva pinched Tony's cheek lightly. "Maybe you should give them a try. You think any of us care what you wear? We're not impressed by labels."

"Hah!" Tony scoffed at her as she went back to her desk. "That'll be the day."

He angrily flicked on his computer to begin work. He had no idea Gibbs was as well off as he was. He always figured being meager with possessions was a sign of practical poverty! The man had no computer, no huge stereo, no cable, an ancient television. But from the sounds of it, he could easily afford these things if he wanted them; but he chose not to. What the hell is with that?

The little voice inside him had to admit, though. He was going to be nowhere near ready for retirement if he didn't change some of his ways. And on top of all that…

What am I supposed to pick on Gibbs about now!

The End