Whistling out of sheer boredom, Tony rocked back and forth on his chair. The bull pen was irrepressibly boring when it only held a single occupant. His green eyes swivelled to Tim's empty desk, and he huffed indignantly. Probie always got to go his damned tech fest, Vance just loved him and trusted him with the Agency purse strings. Abby too.

They were probably having a whale of time, while he was stock doing case review. Huffing some more, his gaze fell upon Gibbs' desk, which was also, glaringly empty. He'd been shut away in MTAC all damned day, doing god knows what. Some things, even as SFA, he wasn't privy to. He didn't mind that, it was understandable, it was still however….irritating.

Irritating in the way, that he was the only one being forced to sift through mountain upon mountain of paper debris. His breath billowed from him as he sighed heavily. Chewing a pen with more ire than it could possibly deserve, he fished out his cell and grinned when he saw the cause of its vibration. Carrie, was positively one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met. They'd been chatting and flirting for about a week now, and his charms apparently seemed to have paid off.

She was free, tonight.

His grin widened further.

Looking up as Gibbs suddenly emerged from MTAC, and bounded down the stairs, he decided to hedge his bets. Glancing down at the towers of paperwork, he wished he'd made more headway. It would have helped his cause. Plastering on his most winning smile, he cleared his throat and made eye contact with his boss as he rummaged around his filing cabinet for something.

Clearly, this was a flying visit.

"Uhh…boss?" Tony began, with just the right amount of innocence, "can I ask you for a favour?"

Scanning the report in his hand, grateful for the two second break away from Leon and all the irritation that came with him, Gibbs nodded tersely. "You can ask, DiNozzo, but be warned…I'm not in a favourable mood." Rolling his eyes at the paper in his hands, he threw it aside, and began rooting through the file drawer he held open once more.

Groaning inwardly, Tony cursed. He was hoping for a favourable Gibbs.

"Right," he replied jauntily, "I get that, but…uhh, with Tim and Abby away today, and Ziva getting her arms qualification re-cert today.." he paused, to laugh internally at the idea of a scowling Ziva being forced to comply with the five yearly evaluation of fitness to carry, before continuing. "Well, with them all gone, and you in MTAC, and with no active cases….I was uhm…"

Scowling at the report in his hand, Gibbs directed a portion of the expression in Tony's direction. "Spit it out, DiNozzo, unless you're asking me out on a date, in which case, keep it in." Rolling his eyes at the reprimand come joke, Tony swallowed. "Right, well…I was just wondering if I could uhm, take an early dart, today?"

Gibbs looked up, locked his gaze on the still momentous heap of paperwork on Tony's desk and raised a brow. "That lot finished?" he asked tersely, turning once again to sort through his own files. Glancing guiltily down at the stacks, the younger man cleared his throat shiftily. "Well…no, not exactly finished, per se…" he mumbled, "but…"

"But nothing," Gibbs interrupted, having found the paperwork he needed and sweeping across the bull pen, landing in front of his second's desk. "You can go, when it's done, and not before then." His eyes quickly appraised the amount of work done, and he held up a hand to stop the onslaught of complaints. "If you really wanted an early finish Tony, you would have actually gotten through some of it, at least before asking. What have I told you about negotiating?."

With that, he made to sweep from the communal area but the miserable expression on the kids face drew him back and he sighed. "Get through half of them," he conceded gruffly, "and then get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Waiting until he was turned away from the young man, before smiling softly at the beaming expression on his face, he reluctantly bounced back up the stairs to MTAC. As the door shut behind him, Tony returned to his work with a fervour, already looking forward to the movie he was going to bring Carrie to see.

She'd love it.

Working as fast as he possibly could, he was amazed at the speed at which the tower he'd chosen dwindled. Three or so hours later, and as the hunger pains began to kick in, he signed off on his last report with a flourish. Glancing at the time, he saw it was only four thirty pm. Grinning from ear to ear, he stood up and shrugged into his suit jacket.

For a brief moment, as he stacked the completed files neatly back into their archive boxes, he considered heading up to MTAC to tell Gibbs he was done. His brow furrowed for a moment, before deciding against it. It was safe to assume, that the never bother Gibbs in interrogation rule, applied to MTAC as well.

Plus, Vance was like an infected weasel today.

Best to steer well clear.

Whistling a jaunty tune as he made to stride happily from the bull pen, his eyes caught something in their peripheral vision. He felt his eyebrows raise at the still ajar filing drawer. Gibbs was anal about many things, but he was especially anal about never, ever leaving his filing cabinet unlocked. Ever, without exception.

His front door, yes.

His filing cabinet, no.

Striding across to close it shut, upon which it would lock automatically, Tony glanced down habitually and was stopped in his tracks. There was a file in the drawer, with his name on the tag. He chewed his lip, curiosity beginning to rise like floodwater inside him. None of them had ever seen any file Gibbs held on them, though logically, they knew he must have one.

The glaring "DiNozzo, A," tag shone up at him as he continued to wrestle with himself. It was his file, so what was the harm in having a little peek? It wasn't as if he were nosing into someone else's file, it was his. There was nothing, there could be nothing in there that he didn't already know, so what would be the harm?

Shifting from one foot to the other, as he contemplated, he stole a gaze around the office space. It was completely, and utterly empty. No one would know. If the security cameras were ever reviewed, of which the chances were minute, it would just look like he was checking a file. He chewed his lip once more, came to a split second decision, and pulled his file from the assortment it resided amongst.

Resting it down on top of the rest them, he flipped it open to a small stack of paper. Flicking through it quickly, he smiled at his yearbook photo from OSU. God, he was good looking. Most of the collection, was pretty mundane. Work history, educational history, commendations in the field.

The usual jacket of a law enforcement official.

About to throw it back into the cabinet, having decided it was suitably mundane and disinteresting, a scrap of paper caught his eye. Instead of being filled with type print, it was filled with Gibbs' unmistakable handwriting. There had clearly been a date on the piece, but Tony's eyes skimmed past it as it had become smudged, and the lure of a full page of the boss-man's writing was too much. Running a hand through his hair, he settled in for the read, his eyes running rapidly over the bold text that was squeezed into a pre-printed template form.

Performance Review of: DiNozzo, Anthony, Special Agent.

Compiled by: Gibbs, Leroy Jethro, Special Agent.

Relationship to Employee: Supervisory Agent.

General Comment Section: This agent shows a complete disregard for a basic chain of command. Questioning of orders, is a common occurrence. The agent also lacks an appropriate professional manner, and an ability to treat teammates with due respect and deference, particularly female and probationary teammates. Crime scene etiquette also presents a challenge for this agent, and tangents coupled with inappropriate comments are commonplace. His interactions with the public can be considered unprofessional, and unbecoming of a federal agent. With regards to ability, this agent is average. Leadership potential appears to be negligible, not that any ambition for professional improvement has ever been shown. It is my general opinion that this agent should not operate in the field, nor should he hold a position of such responsibility as Senior Field Agent. It is also my opinion that should this agent continue in a field based capacity, his lack of natural ability and an unwillingness to follow orders, will eventually result in an injury to either himself, or a teammate. It is my recommendation that this agent be reassigned to a desk based capacity, or any other available clerical role, with immediate effect.

Signed, in declaration of factuality (at time of print): Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Special Agent.

For a moment, his heart forgot to beat. It literally, didn't have the sensibility to pump blood throughout his interconnection of veins, in that moment. Feeling light headed and devishly queasy, Tony eventually managed to, with trembling fingers, place the form back where he'd found it. With equally shaking hands, he somehow managed to press the file back into its original location, snapping the drawer shut with a bang.

He wanted to throw up.

Scratch that, he needed to throw up.

Stumbling from the bull pen, he somehow managed to make his way out of the building and into the parking lot. Sliding into his car, without consciously registering he was doing so, he gripped the steering wheel so tight the whites of his knuckles were dangerously close to the surface of his skin. The sick, seeping feeling of the most venomous betrayal spread throughout him, as he sat, stationary.

The words that were inked into that form, were now branded into his mind. As if he had some class of eidetic memory, he found himself mouthing the sentences into thin air. The more he mouthed, the more the waves in his stomach crashed against each other. Starting his car, without knowing why, or where he was going, he soon found himself edging out of the Navy Yard.

It was perhaps a combination of his familiarly with his commute, and his natural driving ability, that kept him safe from collision. Because, he didn't really see the road, he didn't really see anything. Only that form, and those words. Stalling at a red light, without really registering it, his cell in his pants pocket shrilled.

Fishing it out, out of habit more than anything, he glanced at the caller ID. Seeing Harry's name was a surprise, his frat brother usually only called if he were in town. Answering, without knowing why, he held the phone tightly to his ear and gave an even tighter "hello." The bright voice that filled the other end, made his teeth clench, when usually his eyes would bounce. The invitation for a drinking blow out with a who's who of their old college crowd was about to be resolutely turned down, with explanations of work in the morning.

Work…

Where he was apparently going to become a secretary, which, was probably what today had been all about. Training him for his new role. Betrayal seemed to transition with a river flow force to raw anger as he held the phone to his ear. His voice rang out, in a good interpretation of his usual breezy demeanour, as he swallowed the decline in his throat.

"Sure man, that sounds great," he agreed, "where are you all at?"

The voice hesitated for just a second. "We're at Frank's place, it's a good bit out. But c'mon DiNozzo, I know you probably have work in the morning, but can't you just pull a sick day? Just this once man, you know you want to!"

Hearing his frat brother's cheer in the background, Tony found himself nodding.

"Yeah, you're right," he answered quietly, "I sure as hell want to."

The cheering was to be expected. Hanging up on his friend, and changing the direction of his car, Tony loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

Unprofessional huh?

He'd show that hypocritical bastard just how unprofessional he could really be.

….

TBC

….