Tony reacted entirely on instinct, his hand moving automatically to his empty hip where his gun, tucked away in his desk upstairs, would usually be. He was halfway to the stairwell when Abby's frantic shouting stopped him. Turning, he saw that Tim was equally startled by the unexpected shriek. Abby, however, apparently didn't think there was anything to worry about, and he looked expectantly at her, waiting for an explanation.

Before she could do more than open her mouth, a second, louder scream pierced the silence of the lab. Abby hadn't even been there long enough to turn her usual music on before Tim and Tony had arrived, pleading with her to give them some results before a crankier-than-usual Gibbs decided he needed to find them something 'useful' to do while they waited. But, apparently, she knew what was going on, despite just arriving, and he gestured impatiently for her to fill them in. Beside him, Tim shifted uneasily, glancing over his shoulder towards the stairwell, clearly concerned.

'It's just Palmer being punished. You know, for yesterday...'

Tony blinked in surprise, just as a third wail could be heard. They'd left Gibbs upstairs, and he didn't think that Palmer even got spanked when he screwed up.

'Gibbs is...?' he began, a sceptical eyebrow betraying his doubts.

'No. Ducky insisted on taking care of it himself.'

'That's Ducky?' Tim squawked, clearly shocked by the idea that the mild-mannered gentleman was spanking his assistant.

A fourth anguished cry, this one understood, made him wince. He didn't like to say anything; after all, he wasn't particularly quiet himself when Gibbs took the strap to him, and the probie had even puked before his first spanking. But, jeez... Autopsy wasn't even on the same floor as them!

'Ow!'

The yelp was closer this time, and he turned to find Tim rubbing his shoulder.

'What?'

'Don't you make that face!'

'But...'

'I'd like to see you be any quieter if you were being caned!'

Palmer's fifth shout of pain was almost drowned out by Tony's and Tim's exclamations.

'Ducky has a cane?' Tim choked.

'Well, he does now. He asked me last night where he could buy one...'

Tim looked innocently confused. Tony shuddered, not wanting the mental image of Ducky in a sex shop, browsing the BDSM aisle, looking for a cane to use on the autopsy gremlin.

A sixth yell, even louder, unbelievably, than the others, apparently signalled the end to the conversation. Abby spun in place and reached for the remote that controlled her music.

'Well, that's over,' she declared, scrolling through her playlist and choosing a (relatively) subdued track.

'How do you...'

'Ducky's British.'

'And?'

'Tony! British. Schoolboy. Cane. Six of the best. You're the movie buff! Keep up!'

Tony rubbed at his shoulder, suspecting he'd have a bruise where Abby had punched him. He'd been carefully trying not to think of the caning scenes he'd seen in movies. And he was very glad not to have been in Palmer's place himself.

'You don't think he'd...' he began, not entirely sure he wanted the answer to the half-asked question.

'Use it on you?' Abby helpfully filled in, making the blood visibly drain from Tim's face. 'I don't really see Ducky not just turning you over to Gibbs...'

He exchanged a wary look with Tim.

'No, I meant would he... ummm... you know... let Gibbs borrow...'

Tim croaked, staring at him with undisguised horror.

He was mildly annoyed when Abby started to giggle.

'Oh, I think you're safe,' she said. 'It's not really that common, here, is it? I don't think it would even occur to Gibbs to use a cane!'