Gibbs knocked awkwardly on the door, wondering if Tony would let him in. He had a key, as he did to Tim's apartment, but he didn't want to use it in these circumstances. He heard footsteps behind the closed door, but it was a long, agonising moment before Tony slid open the lock.

'I'm sorry, Tony.'

For all their bluntness, the words were sincere. And they needed to be said, before any other words would be possible between the two men. And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed to say them, in case Tony didn't give him a chance to say more.

The younger man stared at him, obviously surprised that Gibbs was apologising, his eyes dark with understandable anger. A deep sadness radiated from him almost palpably.

'Can I come in?'

Tony shot a pointed look at the burden Gibbs was carrying.

'You think you can just turn up with pizza and beer, and everything will be ok?'

'No. But I was hoping we could talk, maybe figure out a way to make it better. And that will probably take a while, so...'

Gibbs shrugged, the gesture made awkward by the boxes. For a moment he wasn't sure if Tony was going to slam the door in his face. And he wouldn't have blamed him, if he did. Then, finally, the younger man stepped back, wordlessly letting him pass. He waited while Tony locked the door, then followed him down the hall to the kitchen.

'I hope you don't mind if we just stand at the breakfast bar. My dining room chairs are a little hard,' Tony observed meaningfully. Gibbs didn't feel much inclined to sit down, either, but he merely nodded sheepishly.

He set the pizza on the counter and flipped open the lid, revealing Tony's favourite toppings – pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese – and watched Tony retrieve a bottle opener from a drawer and pop the top off of one of the bottles of beer before tossing it unceremoniously next to the six-pack. Gibbs opened a bottle for himself but, like Tony, left it untouched.

'I'm sorry.'

'You said that.'

'I meant it. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I'm sorry I didn't trust you.'

'Yeah, well, my father never believed me when I said I didn't do something he thought I did, either. I don't know why I expected you to be any different.'

Tony's voice held a bitterness Gibbs had never heard before, and his words cut him like a knife. For a long moment he didn't, couldn't, reply, feeling helpless as he watched the younger man turn his face away from him and take a drink, then study his bottle intently.

'Tony...'

'What? You want me to say I forgive you? Well, I don't! Screwing up evidence? Like that? How could you think I'd do something so... so... And blaming Jardine, if it really was my fault? C'mon, Gibbs! You should know me better than that! I thought you did know me better than that! So, no, I don't forgive you... how can I, when you so obviously don't trust me!'

'I do trust you, Tony. I trust you with my life, every day, in the field.'

'That's different, and you damn well know it. You might trust me as a cop, but you don't trust me. You didn't believe me when I told you that I didn't put that damn screensaver on my computer, until McGee admitted that it was him. You just assumed that I was responsible for that thing with the elevator, before you even knew what had really happened. And now... now you take the word of an germophobic whackjob that you've known for about two minutes, over me!'

Gibbs was stunned by the outburst. He hadn't realised that this had been building for so long, although, of course, the younger man was right. The knife in his gut twisted a little more, as he realised just how much he had failed Tony, and for how long.

'You're right. I should have believed you, and not just today. I guess I just...'

'You just what, Gibbs? Expect me to screw up? Think I'm just a frat-boy jock who can't be trusted?'

'I know that's not who you are, Tony. You pretend it is, but you don't fool me.'

'Well, apparently I do, because that's how you treat me.'

'No, Tony. I know that's not you. You think you'd still be on my team, if that were true? I come down on you so hard when you act that way, because I know how much better than that you really are.'

'Then why didn't you believe me?' Tony asked, the anger and bitterness from a moment ago melting into almost a whine.

'Because I'm an idiot.'

Tony snorted. Gibbs grinned wryly, relieved that his statement had managed to break at least some of the tension. Some of the anger melted visibly from Tony's shoulders; he looked more hurt than furious, now. Gibbs wasn't sure if that was progress. He took a drink from his beer, and felt encouraged when Tony mirrored the action.

'Seriously, Tony. I screwed up. I let you down. I know that. I can't change what happened. All I can do is tell you that, everything I've done, it was because I thought it was what was best for you. I was wrong. But I wasn't trying to hurt you.'

Another snort.

'News flash, Gibbs. That strap of yours? It freakin' hurts!'

Gibbs reached out his hand instinctively to deliver a headslap for the smartass comment, but let it fall awkwardly away without making contact. Even that mild reprimand seemed inappropriate, now.

'I know. I'm sorry about that, too.'

'So, is this where you let me take a strap to you, to make it even?'

'No, I don't think that would be a good experience for you to have, Tony.'

'Yeah, I figured as much...'

'That's why I had Ducky do it.'

'Of course you wouldn't... uh... whuh?'

'You heard me.'

'You... Ducky... seriously?'

'You wanna see the marks, DiNozzo?'

'No! That's ok...'

Tony played with his beer, obviously trying to wrap his head around the information.

'Why?'

'I screwed up.'

'Yeah, but...'

'And I needed it. I failed in a responsibility that I take very seriously. You trusted me, and I got it about as wrong as it was possible to. You think I don't feel guilty as hell about that?'

Tony looked at him, seemingly surprised by the idea that Gibbs had been so distressed about the day's events that he'd gone to such lengths in search of a remedy. They definitely still had a long way to go, but, for the first time, Gibbs thought there might be a chance of repairing his relationship with this man he thought of as a son.

Before Tony worked out how to respond, his stomach growled. Gibbs grinned, reaching for the pizza that had been neglected until now.

'What do you say we warm this thing up again?' he said, moving towards the oven.