Gibbs stayed most of the next day, sitting opposite Tony while they watched college football games. He wasn't surprised by the sheer volume of statistics his agent rattled off during those games or that Tony flipped among several channels, never settling on one for more than a few minutes. Normally, Gibbs would have been annoyed, but he was too busy thinking about the previous night's revelations—and DiNozzo's complete ignoring of them today.

It was like the conversation had never happened.

Gibbs knew Tony was good at pretending—it was what made him so good undercover—but he had expected something today after last night's painful admissions.

He was also distracted by Tony's near-constant restless shifting, because he knew the injured shoulder was to blame—knew he was to blame. But he didn't mention it—either the damaged shoulder or Tony's sickening excuse for a childhood—because he knew it would take both time and patience to even begin breaching the walls DiNozzo had spent a lifetime building. And while patience wasn't always Gibbs' strong suit, he knew the end result would be worth the long haul. He was a man who built boats by hand, after all.

So Gibbs watched more football games in one day than he had in several previous seasons, nodded in appreciation at all the right impressive statistics and paid for the pizza over Tony's protests. After dinner, Gibbs watched his agent gradually grow more restless instead of succumbing to the sleepiness Gibbs had figured would come. Honestly, Gibbs had expected the painkillers to knock him on his ass despite his enthusiasm for the games.

"You got a hot date?" Gibbs asked after yet another glance at the clock.

Tony's eyes snapped forward like a schoolboy caught looking up his teacher's skirt. "You gonna punch me if I say yes?"

Gibbs frowned. "Why the hell would I punch you for having a hot date?" He felt the icy grip of dread that Tony might actually be afraid of him, but then he shook it off at the young man's grin.

"Because it's with Abby."

Gibbs raised a silver eyebrow and said, "You and Abby—"

"Are just friends," Tony cut in. "Her friend's band is playing a club in the District so I told her I'd go with her."

Blue eyes strayed to the sling protecting Tony's injured arm. "You think that's such a good idea?"

Tony looked confused for a moment before giving a one-sided shrug. "I don't think it's a place she should be going alone."

"Abby can take care of herself," Gibbs said, surprising his agent, who had obviously expected his boss to be more protective of the young scientist.

"You don't think she's too trusting?" Tony asked.

"I know the kinds of places she likes," Gibbs said, amused. "You don't think I haven't taught her how to protect herself?"

Tony grinned. "Yeah. All right." The smile faded. "So you don't mind if we go?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "I'm not your father, DiNozzo."

He stopped, realizing what he had said—and its relation to the previous night's conversation.

But Tony just said, "Thank hell for that, right?" He turned up the grin to a near-blinding setting. "Then you'd have to lecture me on not drinking too much, not driving after drinking too much, being safe when I find a hot little—"

Gibbs held up a hand. "I get it, DiNozzo," he interrupted. "I think I'm actually glad Abby is going with you."

"See?" Tony said, standing and stretching with another glance at the clock. "You do worry about her. Awwwww. And you trust me to take care of her."

With eyes on Tony's back as he disappeared down the hall to get ready for his big night, Gibbs gave a bemused little sigh. "I meant maybe she could take care of you."

Abby straightened her skirt and raised her black-lace-gloved hand to knock on the door to Tony's apartment, only to have it swing inward before her knuckles even brushed the wood.

"Bossman!" she squeaked happily.

And then she really looked at him.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, stepping into the apartment and watching her boss as he shut the door behind her. "Is Tony okay?"

"He's … all right," Gibbs said, giving Abby the distinct impression that Tony had been doing a lot of insisting that he was "fine."

The Goth really looked at Gibbs. "Are you all right?" she asked, feeling the warmth of pleasure curl through her entire being at the pride in his eyes at her perception. "What happened?"

Gibbs flicked a glance down the hall. "Nothing."

Abby just gave him a look that said "not good enough." Or at least she hoped that's what it said. Meaningful looks were really more Gibbs' forte. Finally, she just asked, "What's wrong?"

Gibbs frowned. "I feel…"

Abby grinned. "It's okay, Gibbs. I won't tell anyone you had a feeling."

The glare was half-hearted at best. "Feel bad for hurting him."

Abby rolled her eyes at the forced admission. "Well, yeah. You care about him. It's Saturday night and you're here instead of with your boat or some sexy redhead so that's pretty obvious anyway." She smiled. "He knows you didn't mean to do it, Gibbs."

The agent shrugged.

Abby's eyes narrowed. "Did you two talk? I mean, it's hard to believe you've been hanging out for almost twenty-four hours and neither of you said a single word. But did you actually have a talk?"

Looking uncomfortable, Gibbs just nodded.

Abby shook her head, exasperated yet amused. "And?"

"We talked about—"

"Abby Normal!" Tony shouted from down the hall.

"Tooooonnnnnyyyyyyy!" Abby shouted back, taking off and launching herself at him but stopping at the last minute. A blush crept across her pale cheeks. She held her fingers up, centimeters apart. "Oops. I came this close to totaling you. My bad."

Tony just grinned, stepping back to inspect the scientist's short plaid skirt and bright neon-green skull T-shirt. He studied the heavy black platform combat boots and raised an eyebrow. "You twist an ankle and I'm not going to be able to carry you home."

Her eyes scanned over him, ignoring the sling and taking in his black button-down shirt and dark pants. "You going Goth on me, Tony?" she asked, reaching up to lay a hand on his neck. "We could put a big ol' spider web right about here."

"Do it and I'll take it off with sandpaper," Gibbs said, reminding them of his presence.

"You're no fun sometimes, Gibbs," Abby said, fake pouting. It was hard because she was still practically grinning from ear to ear. "But tonight. Tonight is going to be amazing! Unforgettable, even! Dancing and music and people. It's going to be so much fun."

"Not too much fun, okay, Abbs?" Gibbs said, shooting a glance at his senior agent, who had come to stand beside his boss and his date for the night.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Okay. Not too much drinking," she said, turning to Tony. "And no drinking for you. Not while you're on painkillers."

Tony shrugged. "Consider me your very own personal designated driver," he said. He gave Abby a mock-stern look. "And no booing the opener because they suck."

"And no moshing for you," Abby said.

"And no picking fights with posers," Tony returned.

They grinned and both said, "And no hooking up without using—"

"Get out of here, will ya?" Gibbs said, giving them simultaneous headslaps.

Abby squealed in delight even as Tony gave Gibbs the eye—and Abby couldn't tell if it was from having to share his headslap or something else until he spoke.

"You kicking me out of my own home, Boss?" he asked. And for just a second, Abby couldn't tell if he was actually offended.

Gibbs just smiled and headed for the door. "I'm kicking me out, too, DiNozzo." He called back over his shoulder, "Don't get into too much trouble, you two."