Disclaimer: DPB and Don McGill are responsible for NCIS, it belongs to them. I on the other hand just stumble around trying to write a decent story every once in a while. No profit being made here, so move along.

Authors Note: This is the story that was supposed to be Chapter Thirteen. But as usual my muse decided otherwise. They both take place on the same evening. I really liked the conversation Gibbs and Mike had in his basement. Their relationship shone thru very brightly. Also, honeydust9251 pointed out that it could be unlucky to stop at Chap. 13. Not that I believe in that or anything (as he throws salt over his left shoulder). Hope you enjoy it.

Spoilers: Spider and the Fly, I guess. Also, you may want to read the chapter "Enemies and Friends" in "El Viejo", it gives a background to this story.

Mike: "Do what you have to for family."

Gibbs: "What rule is that?"

Mike: "The unspoken one."

Charlie's Bar, Present Day

Mike Franks was waiting for Gibbs.

Sorta like '96.

And it was. Same bar, same drink (Jameson, water back), no smoking though (damn El Norte). This time he was waiting for his Probie to come back from taking Abby Sciuto, forensic tech home. Last time he'd been waiting to tell Gibbs he was retiring. The alleged reason was Franks' disenchantment at being ignored about the Khobar Towers bombing. The real reason was Gibbs was eligible to lead a new MCRT. But there was a problem. He was Franks' partner. The head of the Selection Board, the Assistant Director of Operations, hated Franks. So the ADO would use Franks "unorthodox methods" to torpedo Gibbs' shot at the team. The simple solution was Mike would retire, clearing the way for Gibbs. Of course if Mike told Gibbs he was retiring so Gibbs could have his shot, Jethro would do the right thing and pass on the promotion. So Franks did the only thing he could under the circumstances, and something the Probie would never expect, Mike lied to Gibbs.

But, after catching two bullets in a four month span, Mike was feeling like one of those Roman tribunes during his triumph, with the slave whispering in his ear "thou art mortal". So when the Probie got back, Mike was going to fess up.

"MICHAEL!"

His name being called sharply snapped Franks out of his reverie. He looked up into the concerned green eyes of the evening bartender, Seamus Dolan.

"Where were you boyo? I've been talkin' to ya for these past five minutes."

"Sorry Dolan. Was wool gatherin' I guess."

"Well then ya should be able to knit a sweater by now. I was askin' if you think Gibbs will be back."

"Yeah. He went to take Abby home. He'll be back."

Dolan nodded.

"All right. Anything I can get ya?"

"Nah, Seamus, I'm good."

Dolan nodded again and moved down the bar to serve other customers.

Mike sipped his Jameson, the whiskey leaving a pleasant warm feeling.

Wish I could have a smoke.

After talking to Gibbs in his basement, Mike decided that his Probie would be okay with Franks deceiving him back in '96.

I guess we'll find out.

Ten minutes later Gibbs pushed through the double doors of the bar and reclaimed the stool next to Mike.

"Didja get her home okay Probie?"

Gibbs chuckled.

"Yeah Boss. After three Zombies she was feelin' no pain. The hardest part was getting those boots she wears off her feet. She was no help."

Mike smiled.

"She's gonna be feelin' it in the morning, that's for sure."

Seamus Dolan returned and raised an eyebrow at Gibbs.

"Jim Beam Black Label, Seamus."

Dolan moved off to get the drink. Mike shifted on his stool.

No time like the present.

"Remember when we were talking in your basement and you said you thought I was dead?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Well, when I was laid up down there in La Paz, I had plenty of time to think. There's something I want to get off my chest."

"What Mike?"

"When I retired back in '96 it wasn't because of the Khobar Towers bombing."

Gibbs looked puzzled.

"It wasn't? But on the plane ride to DC you were ranting and raving about 'the knuckleheads inside the Beltway'."

Mike smiled.

"Yeah, I said that. Meant it too. But the real reason I 'pulled the pin' was so you'd get the job you have now."

"What!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. Listen Gibbs, we were partners, gonna be for a long time. But Morrow was coming in, in '97. He wanted to start a new MCRT with expanded responsibilities. To head that new team, they wanted you."

"But…"

Mike raised his hand.

"Lemme finish. The Director called me in for a little heart to heart. He thought you'd be perfect for Team Leader for the new team. One problem. Me. The Selection Board was headed by my good buddy, the ADO. That s.o.b woulda hung me around your neck like an albatross. So since you already knew I was pissed, the Director and I got some rumors started and the rest is history."

Gibbs looked a little stunned.

"So you left the agency so I could take the new MCRT?"

Mike nodded.

"Uh huh. Look, I'd taught you everything you needed to know. You were ready to go out on your own. Hell, you needed to go out on your own. So now ya know. I figured I owed it to ya to give you the straight skinny."

"Shit, Mike you didn't have to do it. I…"

"You'd done the right thing and stood by me, screwing yourself in the process. And don't try an' tell me otherwise."
Dolan brought two fresh drinks, studiously ignoring both men. Drinks were sipped and Gibbs sighed.

"The unspoken rule."

Mike nodded.

"At that time you were the closest thing I had to family. You deserved the shot. I made sure you got it."

Gibbs shook his head.

"Christ, Mike. I…"

"Don't say anything Jethro, I know. Part of the reason I told you this now is, you're gonna be in my spot one day soon. I figure it may make your decision easier if you knew what I did."

Gibbs nodded.

"DiNozzo."

"Exactly. I've seen you around him. You care about him as much as I care about you. Don't worry the boy'll be able to hold his own."

Gibbs nodded.

"Yes he will. Not quite yet though. I've still got a few things I can show him."

Franks laughed.

"Amen to that."

Jethro downed his drink.

"So what time is your flight tomorrow?"

Franks drained his Jameson.

"1300 outta Dulles. What time is your Dad headin' back to Stillwater?"

"I figured he and I could take you to the airport and leave from there."

Mike smiled and nodded.

"Good choice Probie."

A/N: So, my second tag for the season opener. The season looks pretty good so far. Hope the writers keep it up. Do a guy a favor and leave a review. Especially you lurkers out there. C'mon you know you want to. Just click on the blue button at the bottom. Oh yeah, one more thing; J-E-T-S! Jets! Jets! Jets!