Neal yawned as he pored over his allocated files, at the tiny desk he and Peter were sharing during their stay. He shielded his eyes against the offensively orange walls, and felt the familiar shudder run through him as he surveyed them. Orange was a terrible colour, he thought forlornly. Especially that cheap neon pain they had clearly opted for. Chewing his lip he quickly ran through a list of cost friendly, eye friendly alternatives. Just as he was wondering about the merits of a subtle sky blue, Peter's glare from Gibbs' desk caught him full in the face and he dropped his head.

At his usual desk, Tony's eyes dripped with tiredness. Last night's escapades, and…cleansing of same, had taken them into the early hours and he was now suffering for it. On all ends. Particularly his rear end. Sighing down at his allocated paper trail, he thought longingly of bed. Though, if he knew Gibbs, and he did…he had a dark suspicion he was going to be kept late. It always seemed to occur, that in the immediate aftermath of any…misunderstanding, the boss suddenly went paperwork crazy and found legitimate reasons to keep him working late.

Looking at his boss, and Neal's boss, he frowned. Their earlier animosity, which had operated as a huge cause of amusement for he and Neal, seemed to be dissipating. In fact…as he craned his neck and squinted his eyes, he could have sworn he saw Gibbs smile at Peter. Tony didn't know why, but the fact that there appeared to be a budding friendship between those two, didn't sit well with him. Taking one furtive glance at Neal, who had also spied the smile, he could instantly tell his new friend was of the same opinion.

Catching Tony's look, Neal raised a brow and pursed his lips. He didn't know why, but the fact that there appeared to be a budding friendship between those two, didn't sit well with him. Returning Tony's furtive glance, he could instantly tell his new friend was of the same opinion. Looking down once more, rather hastily at Peter's repeated warning gaze, Neal frowned some more. He was still reeling from the fact that it appeared Gibbs had sp…uhh, punished Tony in the same manner Peter, in all his caveman ways, endorsed with him.

He would have thought that the man, if he were going to give his friend hell, would do it with either a formal write up or something like a hundred laps around the Navy Yard. Pursing his lips, Neal could just see enforced exercise as something the horrible man would think appropriate. He just couldn't understand how Tony spoke so highly of him. It was clear he idolised the guy. Now, he, Neal….was much more sophisticated than that. He liked Peter, sure. Well ok, he really liked Peter…well, maybe he really, really liked Peter, but he didn't idolise him or anything.

Tony was clearly desperate for that primate Gibbs' approval at all turns. He lit up when he got a rare nugget of praise from the man, and quite clearly admitted that he was more than just a boss to him. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Neal pulled at his collar. His insistences that he was nothing like Tony when it came to their bosses was beginning to wear thin with himself. If he was honest, and he always tried to be honest with himself, he saw a lot of his own behaviour mirrored in Tony's.

He did try and please Peter, and not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He…well, he did light up when Peter praised him, and he did feel like hell when the man was angry with him. And not because he was his boss either, it was because…he genuinely liked the man. Respected him, and looked up to him. Chewing on his lip, Neal sighed and sent his eyes up to heaven. Maybe, just maybe, he begrudgingly thought, he was a lot more like Tony with Gibbs, when it came to he and Peter than he cared to admit.

Damned Gibbs.

Doodling on the margins of his page, Tony snuck another look at Neal and felt surprise well up inside him once more. He just couldn't believe that Peter had sp…uhh, punished him in the same way Gibbs, in all his Marine splendour, endorsed with him. He apparently, had an entirely incorrect view of the man. He, if he was honest, had thought him very nice but a bit of a pushover when it came to Neal.

If he were a gambling man, he would have guessed that Neal's punishment would have consisted of a stern talking to over milk and cookies. He could just see Peter straining to be firm, and Neal flashing that toothy smile that nearly rivalled his own, seeing the older man relenting and patting him on the head. Looking over at the handler, who was heavily engrossed in conversation with Gibbs, he shook his head slowly.

Guess he'd been totally off mark on that one.

He couldn't really understand why Neal was so attached to the guy. He was nice and all, but he was sort of accountant-ish. Not exactly a charismatic leading type of fella. Yet, it was quite obvious that Neal practically loved the guy. Now, he, Tony…he was much more manly about such things. He liked Gibbs, of course he did, but he didn't idolise him or anything. He didn't….well; he didn't care that much about his boss.

The air was suddenly a bit stuffy as Tony ran a hand through his unusually limp hair. Something about Neal's relationship with Peter seemed to trigger a sort of self analysis of he and Gibbs' relationship. He, if he was honest with himself, and he did always try and be honest with himself…saw a lot more of himself in Neal's behaviour than he cared to admit. He did like to please Gibbs, and just because his earthly life depended on it, but because…he genuinely wanted to make him proud. Genuinely revelled in those rare "atta boy's," that the boss-man handed out. Sighing, he realised that the similarities in Neal's and Peter's relationship were altogether too glaring too ignore.

Damned Peter.

Both Neal and Tony's inner thoughts were jolted, as the familiar, to Tony anyway, "grab your gear," order was barked. Scrambling up, both men found their rhythm, with Neal ghosting to Peter's side, and Tony grabbing his go bag. "Dead body, twenty minutes out," Gibbs informed the party that now included Ziva and Tim as they all entered the elevator. Neal, still could not understand how observing a tangentially related case to their own, was going to help solve their investigation. But…Peter wasn't budging, so another trip to hellacious gore-ville it was.

He shuddered.

He didn't do crime scenes, unless they were theft or heist scenes. He didn't do blood and guts, unless they were expertly and digitally mastered on a big screen. The life of these Navy….people, in his esteemed opinion, was altogether too ghastly a career. Humming slightly under his breath, as he liked to do, he rolled his eyes when Peter shot him an irritated glance, but desisted. Seeing out of the corner of his eye Tony's barely concealed laughter, he scowled heavily.

Being the last two to exist the lift, he jostled his new found friend more than was strictly necessary and muttered "what so funny?" His scowl deepened when Tony chuckled deeply and replied with a teasing, but gentle, "didn't realise your old fella was such a fearsome beast is all." Before Neal could offer an outraged denial of same, Tony suddenly stopped laughing as more barking filled the air.

"DiNozzo! Didn't I tell you to gas this damned truck the last time we took it out? Where is he?! DiNozzo!"

It was Neal's turn to smirk as the ashen quality spread over Tony's face and the horrified "damn it," escaped his lips. "Better run DiNozzo," Neal teased, also gently, "your fearsome beast is calling…" Scowling in direct reflection of Neal's previous expression, Tony muttered a miserable "bite me, Caffrey," before speeding up in the direction of his boss' shrieks. Neal's amusement slipped away when he heard the tell tale sound of the now familiar headslap reverberating around the car lot and Tony's quiet "my bad boss."

Damned Gibbs.

Clambering into the back, beside a head rubbing Tony, Neal flashed him a sympathetic look. Ziva and McGee were engrossed in conversation, and Gibbs and Peter sat up front. "You ok?" he asked quietly, and received a rueful grin in response. "Just another day at the office," Tony murmured quietly. Grinning slightly, Neal nodded and with the tiredness both he and his companion felt, the short trip was a silent one. Darting out some minutes later, Neal groaned when he spied the tarp covered body in the middle of the cleared and sectioned off grass area.

All this violence, it made him feel ill.

But Tony appeared to be completely unaffected, and not wanting to appear effeminate, he quickly conned his own facial muscles into impassiveness. Following Peter into the relatively secluded area, he held his breath as the tarp was removed and the bloodied victim was revealed. Quickly averting his gaze, he scanned the surrounding scene. Tony instantly set to work photographing, aided by McGee, whilst Ziva sketched.

Suddenly, the light shone through her dark hair and Neal's initial attraction to her grew all of a sudden. When she turned to get a better view, her strong jaw and tanned skin drew her to him even further. She was stunning, but, she was also terrifying. Neal had never met a woman like her. One that looked angelically beautiful, but would and could snap one's neck in a heartbeat. He just didn't know what to make of her, as he seemed to irritate her. He felt the familiar sense of wounding encase him. He'd never met a woman that didn't take to him.

And that wasn't bragging, or being big headed.

It was just…true.

He was usually flawlessly suave, drawing women to him in their droves, and perhaps that was why he didn't notice. But, he was staring, at her. Just standing, and just staring. Glancing up from taking notes, Gibbs caught the gawping that was being directed his youngest and felt his teeth grind in his skull. With Peter right by his side, he inhaled deeply. "Burke," he muttered, as pleasantly as he physically could, "despite what I think on the matter, if you don't get your boy to stop gawking at my girl, she's going to rip his heart out and stuff it where it should not be stuffed."

Startled, Peter also looked up from his note taking and felt his jaw slacken slightly at the very un Neal-ish behaviour he was observing. Neal didn't gawk, hell; Neal didn't even blink in a way that didn't become him. Racking his brains quickly, he knew he had never seen the kid act this way about a girl. Smiling slightly at the cuteness of it, he nodded briefly and strolled over to his protégée. "Come help me note the signature of the killer please Neal," he muttered quietly, and bit his lips at the jump that careered out of the kid.

Moving behind the elder man, Neal came to his senses and averted his gaze from the body. "What does this have to do with an armed robber Peter?" he hissed quietly. Rolling his eyes at the tone, Peter nudged his reluctant assistant on with an equally quiet "methodology and you know it. Now, stop whining before I give you something to whine about." Pursing his lips as he walked, Neal scowled. "Well, that's original," he muttered under his breath, before wincing at the look that was shot his way.

Softening after a jot, knowing that bodies made the kid uncomfortable, Peter sighed. "C'mon bud, faster we get this done, and learn all we can, the faster we can go home. Ok?" Not being able to refute the merits of that argument, Neal nodded slightly and took in a deep breath. Twenty or so minutes later and he had noted the various, grizzly things that required noting, and managed to keep his breakfast in his gut.

He really, really wasn't for this manual crime scene.

It was dreadful.

With the arrival of Dr Mallard, the scene began to break up some as the NCIS agents conducted their final sweep, and began reloading the van. Tim and Ziva were busying themselves with carefully poring over their collected data, earning a silent glance of approval from Gibbs, as he turned to search for Tony. At the same time, Peter finished up with, well; more escaped from the very chatty ME, and looked up in search of Neal.

Both mens sighs were loud, and simultaneous.

Gibbs's sigh was more familiar in cause to him, than Peter's was. Neal…was freakishly particular about his clothes, and his hair…and hell, everything about himself. So to see him playfully scuffling with Tony was something of a start. At least, he hoped it was playful scuffling. Either way, it was wildly inappropriate and his temper was rising. One look at the man beside him and he knew he wasn't alone in his exasperation.

His "Neal!" was slightly drowned out by Gibbs' rather ferociously bellowed "DiNozzo!" but both younger men stilled instantly regardless. Guilty looks were exchanged as they released each other and began the sheepish walk back to the van. Peter shook his head slowly, and grabbed Neal's arm as he passed, as Gibbs dealt out the head slap that even the visitors could see coming. Using Tony's yelp and muttered "my bad boss," as cover, Peter spoke quietly and directly into the kid's ear.

"I might not whack your head Neal, but you push me one bit further today and we're going to have a repeat of last night. Am I clear?" The kid flushed as he muttered fervently under his breath, grateful they were both marginally out of sight and out of hearing of the rest of them. Closing the door behind him, Peter thought wistfully of home, and El…and Satchmo. He was planning on learning as much as possible over the next day or so, and then getting the hell out of dodge.

The ride back was uneventful, and soon all were disembarked and engaging in their respective post scene run downs. Hours passed fluidly, and soon a pretty wearied Gibbs called out to his team to call it a day. Upon seeing Neal's hopeful glance in his direction upon hearing same, Peter gave the boy a tired affirmative smile. Soon, the chattering brood were making their way towards the elevator and to Peter's small relief; Neal seemed to be taking to Tim.

They were chatting animatedly and laughing happily. Beside him, he could see a similar look of relief on Gibbs' face. Tony and Neal…they were just too alike for their antics to end well. Tim on the other hand, seemed a sensible kid, and Peter was still hoping he'd rub off on his ward. When they reached the lot, Tim and Ziva said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Tony made his way towards his own car, before realising Gibbs' was in the garage again. "You need a ride boss?" he asked politely, jingling his keys in his hand.

Neal, who was waiting patiently by Peter's side discreetly rolled his eyes at the man and mouthed "suck up," over Gibbs' shoulder. Scowling, Tony waited for an answer. "No, you're ok DiNozzo," Gibbs murmured, before to the respective horror of the two younger men, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Burke and I are going to grab a drink, so I'll catch a cab later."

Neal's felt his jaw slacken.

The idea of Peter, alone and defenceless…partially vulnerable through alcohol consumption with that man was horrifying. Blinking, he instantly took in the equally discontented expression on Tony's face. "Uhh…uhh boss, are you uhm…sure?"

Gibbs blinked.

"Yes, Tony, I'm sure," he drawled, "unless you want to check my ID? I assure you, I'm over twenty one. It's just all the grey you four have put in my hair that makes me look old." Peter's chuckle instantly grated on Tony's nerves as he sighed slightly, before looking at Neal with a pointed gaze.

Neal instantly read the look and turned to the man beside him.

"Peter…are you sure you don't want to uhm…go and grab some dinner at that….that place…"

Peter blinked.

"Yes, Neal, I'm sure," he answered slowly, "now, you should be getting back to the hotel because I want today's findings ready for complete review tomorrow and yours still aren't digitised. Your laptop is in there somewhere." Gibbs' approving, sanctimonious nod instantly ground Neal's gears as he sighed.

"How come you get to go out and drink and I have to work?" he grumbled, and was grateful of the approving little noise that Tony made in his throat, before it died there at Gibbs' quailing look. "Because, Neal," Peter replied patiently, "I think you had plenty of fun last night, unless…you want me to go through it all again with you?"

Neal's scowl sent a nearby pigeon fleeing mid peck.

"C'mon, I'll give you a lift Caffrey," Tony muttered, knowing this conversation wasn't going anywhere good. Seemingly coming to the same conclusion, Neal huffed and puffed one last time about double standards, before sweeping off with Tony, the two heads close together in deep conversation at the two older men watched them leave in slight bemusement.

"Any idea what that was about?" Gibbs asked quietly, as he walked towards Peter's car, receiving a snort in answer. Sliding into the driver's seat, Agent Burke let out a soft chuckle. "I think Neal is worried you might rub off on me," he laughed, "he thinks you're a little bit terrifying." Gibbs' proud smile made the slightly younger man laugh all the more as he edged out of the Navy Yard.

An hour or so later, and settling into their second beers, each man was surprised to find themselves liking the guy beside him all the more. Snorting some time later, into his now sixth beer, Peter shook his head in askance horror.

"Why'd you keep marrying them?" he choked. Throwing his eyes up to heaven, and throwing down some more beer, Gibbs' "hell if I know," made the New Yorker laugh all the more. "No long string of Mrs Burke's back home then?" Gibbs teased slightly, fiddling with the beer mat in front of him. The agent in him instantly caught the slightly glazed look that came over his drinking mate's eyes. "No," Peter answered softly, "there's only El. She's…" he blushed and looked down for a moment, "she's the one for me. Always has been."

Nodding slowly, and ordering their seventh drinks, Gibbs ran a hand over his face suddenly feeling a bit sombre. "Yeah…I get that," he murmured, "Shannon…well, she was my El." An instant wave of intense sympathy welled up in Peter as he imagined the unimaginable loss Jethro must have suffered. Before he could think of something tactful to say, his phone suddenly shrieked in his pocket. Grateful for the interruption, he fished it out of his pocket before sighing.

"Peter, while you have been out getting drunk in a strange city, I've been doing what we came here to do. Report is on the table as you walk in. I hope El wouldn't disapprove of anything you're currently doing. Keep it clean."

Raising a brow, Gibbs tilted his head.

"Let me guess…Caffrey?" he quipped, grateful for the levity. He didn't need to go all nostalgic on someone he barely knew. He figured his seventh beer, should probably be his last. Rolling his eyes, Peter nodded and pocketed the phone. "Uh huh, complaining that I'm out and he's basically being treated like a downtrodden slave."

Gibbs chuckled.

"That boy of yours Burke," he laughed, shaking his head slightly, "you got your hands full there, I don't envy you." Swigging on his own beer, Peter felt his own brows ascend. "Oh right, because your lad is a smooth sailing breeze, right?" he countered, a teasing grin on his face. Picking at the label on his bottle, Gibbs smirked somewhat.

"You got me there Burke, you got me there…."

Peter smiled slightly as he took in the deflection. "You know, I may not be a NCIS special agent, but I am an agent, and a good one. You can't fool me, you 'd do anything for that kid." As Gibbs looked up at him with a growl in his throat, Peter's grin grew wider. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong?" he demanded with a chuckle.

Sighing in defeat, Gibbs shrugged his shoulders awkwardly and threw down some more beer. "He's a good kid," he admitted quietly, "been on my six for a long time. I guess…he's grown on me, you could say." At Peter's victorious laughter, he scowled heavily. "Aw shut up Burke, you think I'm blind? It's obvious that boy of yours is more than just an informant."

Peter, who was more emotionally well rounded than a gruff Jethro, shrugged easily. "He's a good kid as well," he replied quietly, "he's come on in leaps and bounds." At this, Gibbs choked on his beer. "I'd hate to see where he started from then," he chuckled, before backtracking under Peter's ferocious stare.

"Alright, alright," he conceded quietly, "I guess…we were both a little too quick to judge each other's…erm, protégées?" Being able to get on board with that, Peter smiled his part in the semi, sort of there, apology of sorts. "Guess we were," he murmured, "that's not saying there isn't times when I'm legally very close to the brink of murder with my fella."

Barking out a laugh, Gibbs nodded in rueful agreement.

"Tell me about it, Burke, tell me about it….you just try having four, that have that effect on you."

Peter shuddered.

"I'd rather take my early retirement," he countered, "just trying to keep Neal in line takes about everything I got." Beside him, Gibbs nodded slowly. "So I saw when the poor kid tried to sit down today."

The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Just like yours had the same difficulty?" Peter quipped back, to be answered with an easy shrug.

"Whatever works, I know what words with my lot. But…I gotta say, I was surprised at your…erm, methods."

Agent Burke raised a brow.

"Why? Because I don't whack mine upside the head?"

Gibbs snorted, before turning slightly sombre.

"You just thought I was a soft touch who let Neal run riot, right?" Peter surmised for him wryly, being rewarded by a slight flush across his new friend's face. "Maybe," Gibbs muttered, before shrugging his shoulders slightly, "I don't do apologies, but I admit I got that one wrong."

Peter smiled slightly.

"That's ok," he answered sincerely, "most people do."

Gibbs laughed slightly, running a hand through his hair.

"You're not bad Burke," he said quietly, glugging down some more beer as Peter rolled his eyes at the sort of compliment.

"Thanks," he grinned sarcastically, "I guess you'll do as well. For the time being."

Gibbs grinned, accepting the sort of compliment. Before he could utter another word, his cell shrieked in his pocket and he fumbled around for it. Peter noted it took the guy a long time to extract whatever message caused the interruption, and sat patiently.

Therefore the groan that caught his ears took him partially by surprise. Turning, and raising a brow he eyed the slightly older man for a moment.

"Tony?"

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and nodded jerkily.

"Tony."

…..

TBC

…..