I shove the memory of McGee lying in his hospital bed to the back of my mind as I stride toward the cabin they've given my team as a cross between a command post and barracks. I didn't want to leave him, but the doctor told me that, with the meds they've given him, he won't wake up until the morning at the earliest, and when I checked in with Ducky, there was still a missing child to find. Turns out that the little girl was found safe while I was on my way back here. So, I'll head back to the hospital and be there when Tim comes 'round. He shouldn't wake up alone.

I just have one thing to take care of first.

I know why Ducky insisted on me going to the hospital in the first place. The couple of stings I got grabbing McGee weren't serious enough to need more than basic first-aid. And that crap about the risk of hypothermia, and the water being polluted, was... crap.

But it was a good excuse to go with McGee, and make sure that he was gonna be alright. Ducky knows me well enough to know how concerned I was about him, and how much my instincts were telling me to go with him. I'm pretty sure that Tim hasn't figured out yet that I feel as strongly about him as I do about Tony, but Ducky definitely has.

But my old friend also knows how strongly I feel a sense of duty, of obligation to finish the job before allowing more personal concerns to control my actions. Especially when it's something like a missing child. He knew there was no way I'd get into that helicopter, however much I wanted to, unless he pulled rank as the medical officer on-site and ordered me to get my so-called injuries seen to.

And it looks like Tim's going to be fine. They want to keep him overnight to make sure that the what-ever-it-was they gave him to what's-it the venom has done whatever it was supposed to... yeah, Ducky's gonna be pissed that I didn't exactly absorb what that doctor was trying to tell me... and they gave him some pretty strong stuff to get him to sleep and let his body start to heal itself... that much I understood.

But he wasn't actually stung as often as we'd feared. The damn yellowjackets weren't able to do too much damage before I got him into the lake, where I knew they wouldn't follow. They swarmed around above us for a few minutes, but I managed to hold McGee underwater long enough for them to lose interest and leave. I don't think Tim understood why I had him in the water, though, and he damn near broke my hand fighting with me at one point. I'm going to have to have a little chat with him sometime about basic wilderness survival.

And Ducky was definitely trying to get me away from Tony for a couple of hours, when he packed me into the chopper with Tim. Of course I wouldn't actually punish him while I was still so angry – and I was enough in control for that not to be a concern – but I probably would have said something I'd regret later.

Oh, I know he didn't expect anything like that to happen, and he certainly didn't mean for Tim to be seriously hurt. But that's most of the problem with Tony; he doesn't consider the possible consequences of his actions before he does something idiotic. I've told him off more times than I can count for tormenting Tim, and I've spanked him for a couple of stunts that have gone too far.

And he has been acting more responsibly lately. Which is a good thing, because I've been reluctant to punish him while Jenny's got him working on that op that I'm not supposed to know didn't end with that fiasco in Quebec, in case not being able to sit down without wincing blows his cover. And I know he's got a girlfriend he's actually serious about for the first time in his life; I've been letting the little things slide to spare him the embarrassment of having to explain a reddened backside.

But he's definitely in for a whipping now. Even if he didn't expect the yellowjackets, he was still trying to shove his team mate into poison ivy. And he sure as hell knows that I'm not going to ignore something like that.

I push open the door. Tony jumps to his feet. He's obviously been sitting on his bunk, waiting for me. From the look on his face, he knows what's gonna happen next.

'Is McGee alright, Boss?'

I bite back the 'no thanks to you'. Tony doesn't react well to a heavy-handed guilt trip, especially once he's admitted that he screwed up. What he needs now is reassurance that the consequences of his actions aren't going to be as terrible as he's been thinking they would be, followed by the punishment he's expecting. I know how hard it is having to wait for a spanking; that's why I want to deal with him before I head back to the hospital. And he needs to know that I'm not giving up on him.

'He will be. They're keeping him overnight, but they say he'll be fine.'

'Good. Uh... Boss... I'm really sorry... I didn't know...'

'I know. But you know better than to mess with McGee like that even if there isn't a wasps' nest involved.'

'I know... I shouldn'ta...'

Tony trails off, and I know he's embarrassed about putting his actions into words. I give him a hard look, waiting until he stops shuffling his feet and raises his eyes to meet mine.

'C'mon.'

I motion him towards the room's only table; there's not really anywhere else to put him. Tony visibly swallows and looks at me with a determined expression, looking more frightened than he usually is before a spanking.

'You want me to go cut a switch, Boss?'

The question catches me completely off guard. I'm suddenly furious, and saddened, that he thinks I would do that to him, that I would break my promise to him not to use a switch on him again. He should know me better than that. Even without the unusual relationship between us, the fact that no Marine would treat a team member like that should be enough for him. It can only be his screwed-up childhood that makes him unable to really believe that I meant it when I said I wouldn't force him to endure a punishment that he found traumatic.

And then it occurs to me that his question also reveals how much he actually does trust me, how completely he accepts my authority. He's willing to accept a switching from me, despite the painful memories it evokes and despite the severe physical pain involved. He's petrified by the prospect, but there's no doubt in my mind that he'd obey without hesitation if I ordered him to cut a switch.

'Why the hell would you think that, DiNozzo?'

'Well, the last time I almost killed McGee, you... uh...'

'I remember that, Tony. I also remember you coming to me and asking me not to do that again. And I remember telling you that I wouldn't.'

'Uh, yeah, but...'

'So why on Earth would you think that something's changed since that conversation?'

'Because I really screwed up this time?'

He says that like it's obvious.

'Yes, you did. And I'm going to whip you for it. But I didn't tell you that I wouldn't take a switch to you unless you did something worse than usual. I said I wouldn't use a switch. Period. That hasn't changed, Tony. And it won't change. That's not how this works. Not with me. I thought you knew that.'

He looks at me sheepishly, not answering.

'C'mon. Get over here.'

He moves towards the table, still looking nervous. Actually, he still looks terrified. More than he should, really. What the hell is going on with him tonight?

I grab my hold-all from the floor beneath my bed and detach the leather shoulder strap at both ends. I double it over, holding both metal clips firmly in my hand.

Tony seems to relax a bit and bends over, holding on tightly to the table.

I take a good look at him, trying to figure out what's got him so spooked and whether he needs me to put this on hold, or find some other way of dealing with him. He seems apprehensive, which is reasonable enough, but he's definitely calmer now. I still don't know what the problem was, but I'm confident that he's ready to do this.

And stopping now is just gonna make him start freaking out about me not caring enough about him to discipline him.

Not for the first time, I wish I could have just five minutes alone with the man who did such a spectacular job of screwing with my senior field agent's head.

I position my left hand between his shoulder blades, letting him know that I don't expect him to stay in position on his own. This is going to be a hard whipping, and holding him down is far kinder than making him find the willpower to just stay put.

I bring the strap down hard on his ass, just above the thighs where it hurts like hell and where he'll feel it most when he sits down. Tony twitches and grunts. I direct the next lash at the same spot. And the next. I hate watching him struggling to cope with pain that I've caused him, but I know it's the best way to deal with his misbehaviour. Tony needs to be able to forgive himself, and for that he has to believe that I've punished him enough wipe the slate clean.

I continue raining hard strokes down on him, still focusing my attention on a small area of particularly sensitive flesh that I know must be beet-red and throbbing by now. He's sobbing into his crossed arms, reacting to his own emotions as much as to the exceptionally severe spanking I'm giving him. I give him a final two lashes then keep my hand on his back until he's caught his breath.

'I'm not giving up on you, Tony. It'll be a lot easier for you if you stop asking me to prove it.'

He nods, and sniffles a bit. I toss him a pack of tissues, and turn back to my bunk and replace the strap on my bag.

'I'm heading back to the hospital. You want to come?'

I can see that he's torn.

'McGee's probably going to sleep through the night; they've got him pretty doped up.'

He nods again, and turns towards his own bed. He tells me that he'll talk to McGee once he wakes up, and that he should probably get some sleep since I'm going to be up all night. He doesn't actually say that he is relieved by the excuse not to spend the night on a hard hospital chair, but I know that's more of a practical concern for him at the moment than the need for at least one member of the team to be rested and functional in the morning. That's ok; I know he's really hurting.

I nod in return, and head for the door, glancing back over my shoulder to see him stretching out face-down. I pause for a moment, my hand on the handle, before leaving one 'son' to check on another.