Gibbs pushed the last slice towards Tony and reached for another beer. They were finally making some progress. The idea that Gibbs could feel so guilty about the day's events that he'd willingly endured a whipping had seemed to surprise Tony. Gibbs reflected sadly that he had probably never had anyone care enough about him to care about getting it right with him. They'd talked more than he had expected, the conversation lubricated somewhat by the alcohol. And as they'd talked, Tony's anger had slowly evaporated. He was still visibly upset, but his eyes were no longer burning with a dark and bitter fury, and he was no longer looking at him with the same painfully-evident level of distrust and betrayal.
The problem was, that in moving past the anger that had allowed him to vent his frustration with uncharacteristic openness, he had become increasingly quiet, almost brooding. Gibbs knew from experience that a quiet, withdrawn Tony was not a good sign.
So he was encouraged when Tony hesitantly started to ask a question.
'Uh... Gibbs?'
'Yeah?'
'That thing you said earlier... about never doing anything that you didn't think was for my own good.... Did you mean that?'
'Wouldn't have said it, if I didn't mean it, Tony.'
There was a moment of silence as Tony nibbled thoughtfully.
'Why?'
'Because I think you need someone to come down on you like a ton of bricks, to keep you from getting yourself killed, or doing something that would cost you your job.... Just like I needed someone to do that for me.' Tony's eyes widened in surprise, but Gibbs pressed on. 'I don't think I'd still be here if I didn't have people who cared enough to rein me in. I've been trying to provide the same guidance for you.'
'But... why do you care?'
As always, the younger man's insecurities tore at his heart.
'You're the closest thing I'll ever have to a son, Tony, you and Tim. You know that, don't you?'
Even with Ducky's admonitions still ringing in his ears, Gibbs knew he would never say as much to Tony if he weren't drinking, but right now, he didn't care.
'I thought... once... but... you've got Tim, so...'
Gibbs interrupted him, hoping that levity was the right approach to jarring him out of the funk he seemed to be heading towards.
'You know you sound like a toddler who's jealous of the new baby, right?'
Tony gaped at him.
'You don't think I care about both of you, Tony?'
'I don't know why you'd want to. Tim's every parent's dream... he's smart, he's successful, he's a published author, for fuck's sake! I'm just...'
Gibbs cut him off, recognising the spiral into morose self-pity that was looming.
'And you're what I always imagined my son would be like. Dammit, Tony, I look at you, it's like looking in a mirror sometimes!'
Tony just stared at him for a long moment.
'But... then... why...'
Tony turned his face away, leaving the question unasked.
'Why what, Tony?' Gibbs prompted.
'If you still care... then... why did you...'
'Monumentally screw up?'
'Uh... yeah...'
Gibbs sighed. Tony was older than average to be learning that fathers are not infallible. Of course, he'd learned that lesson far too young. But he seemed to still think that loving, good parents were somehow, magically, perfect. He'd seen the reaction before, on cases, when Tony had been deeply disturbed by the mistakes of judgement people who clearly doted on their kids still managed to make.
'Tony, I never claimed to be perfect. I made mistakes with Kelly. Making mistakes with you doesn't mean I don't care. It means I'm human.'
He gave the younger man a few moments of silence to process the information.
'You made mistakes with Kelly?'
'Yeah.'
'Ummm....'
Gibbs smiled gently, recognising the curiosity behind the unasked question.
'I was over-protective, wouldn't let her go to a birthday party she had her heart set on. And I insisted that she was too young for summer camp, when her best friend was going. I didn't let her have a dog. I...'
'Ok! I get the picture!'
Another moment passed in silence.
'My father... he never cared when he got it wrong, when he beat me for something I hadn't done. One of the housekeepers had a thing for cognac... he noticed that his bottle wasn't as full as it should have been... I don't know why he thought a ten-year-old would even want it...'
'I'm sorry, Tony. I'm sorry you didn't have the father you deserved.'
'Anyway, I figured out pretty quickly that he didn't give a damn what I did, as long as it didn't interfere in his life. And then he didn't care if I was really the cause of the interference or not... I was as good a person as any, to blame. That's all he wanted. Someone to blame. Someone he could make pay for it. Someone he could hurt. So I learned to take it, without giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt me.'
Gibbs felt like cold water had been poured down his spine, as he realised the reason why Tony hadn't cried out when he'd whipped him. In his mind, it had been just another unfair punishment at his father's hands. He scrubbed at his face with his hands and took a breath, trying to work out what to say. Before he could formulate the words, however, Tony had moved on. Or, rather, back.
'You really don't like Tim better?'
Gibbs sighed.
'Tony...'
'But... you use your old paddle on Tim, the one you had to make for your father...'
Gibbs struggled to keep up with the conversation. He could tell that Tony was genuinely upset, but the apparent reason for his distress was just too bizarre.
'You're jealous about what paddle I use?'
'It's not about the paddle, it's about why you use it! It's the one that you were planning on using on your own child! Tim gets treated like he's good enough to be your flesh and blood, and I get...'
'You got to be treated the way I was by my father, and to do something that I would have had Kelly do when she was older. How is that not treating you like my son?'
'But...'
'Tim's left-handed, Tony. Asking him to use my tools to make anything would be cruel and humiliating. And not having a paddle I can use with him would mean punishing him too severely for the things I'd use it for, or letting them go, and neither of those options seemed like a good idea.'
'Oh.'
'Yeah. "Oh." Jeez, Tony, you two really are like a couple of siblings, sometimes. First Tim is worried that I didn't have him make his own paddle because I couldn't be bothered to teach him how, now you think it means I like him better... what's next? Fighting over who gets to sit next to me in the truck?'
Watching Tony's face suddenly fall, Gibbs knew he'd said the wrong thing. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out what.
'What is it?' he asked gently.
'You... hug... Tim.'
Gibbs stared at him in shock, dumbfounded by the sense of betrayal that he heard behind the quiet words.
'How...'
'April Fool's Day. When you brought us all back to your place to be spanked. I saw you. You hugged Abby – you always hug Abby, everyone hugs Abby. And you hugged Tim. I'm the only one you don't...'
'Tony, the one time I did hug you, you made it pretty damn clear that it wasn't welcome!'
'Yeah, but...'
He broke off, chewing on his lip. He seemed conflicted about his own objection – not really comfortable with the idea of being hugged, but not happy about being the only one left out, either.
'I don't know if I want you to hug me, but I don't want you to hug Tim and not me... I guess I can't say I don't want you to hug either of us, huh?'
Gibbs shook his head, unable to help the grin. It was such a typical reaction for Tony and, he hoped, a good sign that 'normal' might, eventually, be possible, that they might be able to put today behind them.
'Uh, Boss?'
Gibbs felt a rush of ridiculous pleasure. Tony had been calling him 'Gibbs' all evening. Despite its apparently greater formality, hearing 'Boss' again further reassured him that the easy camaraderie he enjoyed with his second-in-command hadn't been permanently lost.
'Is there going to be a next time? I mean...'
Gibbs sighed. That was the $64,000 question. Should he... could he... continue dealing with Tony in his usual unconventional way, after this? Could Tony trust him enough to accept that kind of discipline from him? And could he trust himself enough to impose it?
'That's up to you, Tony. If you need things to be on the record for a while...'
'No, Boss. I... I don't want anything to... I think it would feel like you...'
'Hey, it's ok, Tony. I'm not giving up on you. But if you're not comfortable with me...'
'No, it's ok. I trust you, Boss.'
Gibbs nodded, smiling to himself about how much they managed to communicate even though neither one of them was very good at actually saying the words.
'But... uh... I don't suppose I could bank today as a credit? You know, against the next time I...'
Gibbs shook his head, still grinning.
'Nope. I'm sorry, Tony, but I don't think it's a good idea to have you out in the field, knowing you can screw around and use your 'get out of jail free' card. You're liable to get us all killed, that way.'
'C'mon, Gibbs... I...'
'No, Tony.'
The younger man sighed dramatically.
'I had to ask.'
Gibbs grinned again, shaking his head fondly at the melodramatic antics. The two men drank in silence for a moment. Suddenly Tony blurted out, 'Ok, I've got to know... why the hell did Jardine set me up?!'
The sudden shift in the conversation surprised him a bit, but he decided not to comment on it. Instead, he answered the question.
'I called her on the way over here...'
'And?'
'She forgot to give the memory card to Abby, and didn't want to go back because she was afraid she'd be hugged again.'
'Oh, for fuck's sake!'
'...and she decided to cover her own ass by leaving it on your desk and denying all knowledge of it...'
'Why me?' Tony asked, clearly put out and a little petulant.
'I think she figured that way the evidence wouldn't actually get lost, and she somehow decided that what you told her about me dealing with things off the record meant that I'd just send you down to the gym for a while...'
'For what? Hundreds of push-ups like in boot camp?'
'Something like that...'
There was a long pause while Tony took a drink and picked at the label on his bottle.
'So, what are you going to do to her?'
'Well, she's never working on my team again, that's for sure. And as soon as the Director gets back, I'm recommending that she be transferred to another office. The farther away, the better. Preferably someplace dirty...'
Tony laughed briefly, but quickly became serious again.
'Are you going to spank her?'
'No. That's for people I want to deal with off the record, give them a second chance without putting a black mark in their file. But she didn't give a damn about protecting her team mates this morning, so I'm not feeling real inclined to protect her. I want this on her record.'
It was an answer he'd given in similar circumstances before, about various men under his command whom he'd chosen not to deal with 'informally'. But, as he was speaking, he realised that it wasn't the full story, not anymore. The dynamic with Tony, and Tim and Abby, too, had shifted; it was no longer simply an alternative means of dealing with his subordinates, but, rather, something much more personal that he shared with his 'kids'. He could see himself still spanking a Marine under his command, as he'd unhesitatingly decided to do during his recent stint as an instructor at Quantico. And, he supposed, he would spank Palmer again if necessary, although the idea of the ME's assistant doing anything to warrant it was vaguely ludicrous. But without any real personal connection or the bonds of the Corps between them, he couldn't imagine dealing with Jardine that way, even if she hadn't made it more unlikely by blaming Tony for her actions.
'Oh. I thought... I thought maybe... never mind.'
'You were hoping I'd let you watch?'
Tony's grin told him that he wasn't entirely opposed to that idea.
'No. I... uh... I was afraid you'd want me to... uh... do it.'
'Well, if you want...'
'No! That what... that's not really something I...'
He seemed agitated, and Gibbs spoke quickly to reassure him.
'That's fine, Tony. I wasn't going to suggest it.'
There was a bit of a pause before Gibbs continued.
'I take it that that isn't going to be part of your leadership style, when you get your own team?'
'I don't know. Maybe. I think it might be different if I'm leading a team where I've always been the leader, you know?'
Gibbs nodded, understanding.
'But I just don't see myself doing that, when it's someone I've worked with and not been in charge. Like when you were in Mexico... I mean, McGee never came close to screwing up enough for it to be an issue, but I don't think I could have spanked him. And I don't think he ever would have let me.'
Gibbs smiled, imagining the likely reaction from Tim if Tony tried to spank him. Tony was right; there was too much sibling rivalry between the two, for that to work out well.
'But, when I think about what you said, about it being a way to protect people from official consequences, and I wonder if I should do it, for their sake. But it's just...'
He trailed off, clearly uncertain and questioning his own instincts.
'It's ok, Tony. You're right. It is different, when you're commanding people you aren't used to seeing as friends... as equals. But if you do end up taking over someday, before Tim's ready for his own team, I think you two are going to have to talk about this.'
Tony nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes were still conflicted.
'But you don't have to worry about that tonight, Tony. And I'll take care of Jardine.'
'Ok,' he agreed, nodding more convincingly this time.
They talked easily for a while longer. Finally, realising it was getting late, Gibbs called for a taxi to take him home, having left his car at the Navy Yard when he decided to bring beer along with the pizza. Then Tony walked him to the door, murmuring a quiet 'G'night, Boss.'
'Good night, son,' Gibbs replied. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that it would be a while before things were entirely back to normal between them, and not wanting to overstep the bounds of what Tony would be comfortable with yet. At the same time, his fatherly instincts were demanding that he do what he could to address Tony's insecurities. Instinct finally winning out over logic, he pulled the younger man into his arms.
