Conclusion. Filler for the end of "Frame Up" plus tag.

I've had some extra time on my hands this week, so I wanted to go ahead and get this story completed. Going forward, I will probably be able to keep up with one or maybe two updates per week.

"Psyche – Part IV"

Tony stopped rather abruptly as his eyes were assaulted by the late afternoon sun. After two days of being locked up in a dark FBI holding cell, his body could hardly be expected to adjust immediately to being a part of the outside world again.

The man he had been walking with eventually caught on and stopped as well, turning around and waiting for his companion to indicate a readiness to proceed. "So how does it feel to be a free man, Tony?"

How do I feel? Tired was the first word that sprang to mind. Physically tired, mentally tired. Utterly drained emotionally. "Feels good, Probie," he finally mustered rather unconvincingly. Trying to cover, he started walking again, completely passing up McGee before slowing his pace again once he realized he had no idea where the other man had parked the car.

"You must be hungry. Bet a pizza would hit the spot right now." McGee certainly hoped that to be the case, since there were several pizzas waiting for them back in the squad room. Tony's demeanor had him momentarily second-guessing the little "welcome home" party they had hastily planned when it became clear that Tony would soon be cleared.

"Mmmm. Yeah." The words fit the situation, but there was no meaning behind them. The Senior Field Agent's mind had completely wandered. He knew he should be more excited but he felt numb.

Agent McGee kept attempting to make nervous conversation with his partner all the way back to the Navy Yard. It was clear that Tony wasn't really listening to him, but the other man was making a great effort at being polite, which unnerved the young agent even more.

As he parked the car, Tim made one last attempt at small talk. "So, I guess I'll be adding 'Cool Hand Luke' to the list of movies I need to see."

"Yeah, you should do that, McGee," Tony mumbled as he was opening the car door.

No doubt about it, Tony was acting strangely. But it was too late to back out now. Ziva was calling him, likely to find out how far away they were so she could get everyone gathered around Tony's desk. "Hey, Tony, hold up a second….Hello?"

"McGee! You were supposed to call and inform me as to where you were. Are you almost here?" the Israeli demanded.

"Uh, yes. Sorry about that. You should go ahead with….that thing we talked about…." No, that didn't sound at all suspicious. I am so awful at surprises. Why did they pick me for this? Great, now Tony knows something's up.

"There a problem McGee?" Agent DiNozzo inquired knowingly. They're up to something. Guess I better put on my happy face.

"N-no? Why would you ask me that?" Tim muttered too quickly.

Now the Senior Field Agent was studying him carefully over the roof of the car. "I don't know. You know, you look kind of tired there." It was true. Now that the older man had gotten a good look at him, his friend had angry, dark circles under his eyes.

"Oh, that?" Relief washed over him. Maybe he hadn't given away the surprise after all. "W-well, I haven't had much sleep. Nobody has. We've been working two days straight trying to clear you."

That had not yet even occurred to Tony. He'd been so out of it the past two days, he hadn't really thought about the strain the team must have been under. No doubt Gibbs had required them to work those all-nighters. "Sorry, Probie. Guess you must be as anxious to get home as I am."

Agent McGee appeared puzzled. "I don't know about that. I mean, I wasn't the one accused of murder."

Tony's gaze intensified. "You ever wonder if maybe I was guilty?"

Now the junior agent was really thrown. Frowning, he haltingly insisted, "Noooo, Tony. I can't say I did."

DiNozzo plastered on one of those obviously fake smiles that even Tim McGee could see right through. "Oh, c'mon, Probie. You must've wondered for just a second. It's okay to admit it."

What is he trying to trick me into saying? And why? He'd been as honest as he knew how to be. He never truly thought that Tony could be their killer. For some reason, the older man was trying to coax him into saying he'd suspected him. Probably to find some way to use it against me later. "No way, DiNozzo. Not falling for it, whatever it is you're trying to do."

His coworker looked either oddly relieved or oddly disappointed. He wished he could interpret the other man's varied expressions more accurately, but Anthony DiNozzo was almost as tough a nut to crack sometimes as Agent Gibbs.

Anxious to end this particular conversation, and afraid that if he waited any longer a certain ninja would start planning a creative demise for him potentially involving a stapler or a pair of scissors, McGee hastily beckoned, "C'mon, Tony, let's go. I'd like to get home some time tonight."

Tony had managed to behave so normally upon entering the squad room and discovering his impromptu surprise party, that their previous slightly strange conversation was quickly forgotten by McGee. If their exonerated team member was just a little too happy, too loud, too boisterous in celebration, it went unnoticed by all but one.

Of course, the guest of honor was still a master of disguise. In spite of all the little things still niggling at his brain, not the least of which was a nagging suspicion that George Stewart didn't strike him as a smart enough guy to have been the one to pull this whole thing off, Agent DiNozzo lived up to his party animal, carefree, frat boy reputation. If Ziva hinted at flirting with him, he flirted back with gusto. If everyone around him laughed, he made certain to be the loudest.

McGee was none the wiser until the moment they'd caught Chip bound with duct tape on the floor of Abby's lab. When Gibbs had made his mad dash from the squad room to the lab, Tony had darted after him, gun drawn, before Tim had even had time to process what was happening. The SFA's ability to read their boss' mind was uncanny, but if he'd analyzed the situation further, Timmy would have most certainly drawn the conclusion that his counterpart's gut had already been on high alert all evening, and that had subsequently heightened his reflexes to an even sharper degree than usual.

They'd been momentarily stunned by Abby's victory over the cunning, smarmy little lab rat. But soon, Gibbs reverted back to Federal Agent mode. "DiNozzo…" he instructed with a nod. No further direction was necessary. Tony would have the pleasure of taking his nemesis into custody after all.

Agent DiNozzo calmly walked over to where Chip was sprawled out on the floor, gun still at the ready. "Get up," he ordered flatly. Still bound, Sterling wiggled and contorted himself, grunting through a strip of duct tape the entire time, until he finally found himself in an upright position. The very second he found his feet, the Senior Field Agent had him by the arm. Carefully reholstering his weapon, Tony not-so-gently ripped the tape from Chip's face.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Tony growled dangerously, his face within inches of his prisoner's. Then just as roughly he removed the tape from the other man's wrists. Wisely, the erstwhile lab tech remained silent this time.

Suddenly, the agent had him pushed roughly against the desk. "Charles Sterling, you're under arrest…"

"You know I almost had you. If this freak had just let things be…"

His tirade was interrupted, perhaps by the hand that roughly jerked him around to place him face-to-face with one majorly pissed off Anthony DiNozzo, but more than likely by the other hand, the one he now realized was the foreign object that was currently around his throat.

"Tony!" Agent Gibbs barked. Chip hadn't figured out how the Lead Agent had traversed the space between them so efficiently, but for once felt grateful for the silver-haired man's presence. More softly, the team's leader directed, "Let go. I'll take it from here."

There was only a split-second pause, which felt like an eternity to Charles Sterling, but was barely noticeable to the rest of the room's occupants. But the hand loosened at last, and Agent Gibbs took over, finished cuffing him, and read him his rights without further incident. "McGee, with me," the Lead Agent called as he led the arrestee out of the room.

The aforementioned agent had been alternating his gaze between a still shaken Abby and their Senior Field Agent with a white hot rage still burning in his eyes. In hindsight, perhaps he should have warned their leader that Tony possibly was not in the best frame of mind to carry out the arrest. Just a few hours earlier, he recalled being rather grateful for the bars that had been preventing himself from being throttled by the other man. "Prison changes a man…"

"McGee! You deaf?" Gibbs barked impatiently.

The young man jumped to action immediately upon being prompted a second time. Having to be asked a third time to do something by Leroy Jethro Gibbs….well he'd never waited that long before, but he was reasonably certain that might involve his no longer being a Federal Agent by the next morning.

Tony took a few deep breaths to calm himself as his boss exited the room with his partner and their prisoner. "You ok, Abs?"

She simply nodded.

He felt awful about making such a scene in front of his friend. "I'll help you get the lab cleaned up," he offered remorsefully.

"That won't be necessary, Agent DiNozzo." He wasn't sure at what point Director Shepard had arrived on the scene, or how much she had seen. "Ziva and I will see to it that the lab gets cleaned up properly. You should go home." Ziva caught his eye briefly and silently nodded her agreement.

No mention of being suspended or anything. At least that was a good sign.

"She's right, Tony," Abby chimed in, less shaken this time. "You really should go home." With a surprisingly gentle hug, by Abby's standards, and a very chaste kiss on the cheek, she whispered, "Welcome back. Sorry it took us so long."

"Not your fault, Abs. I heard you were mostly responsible for getting me out of this. Thanks."

"Always. Now go! Go home!"

He went. But not home. If anything was clear, it was the fact that his head still wasn't screwed on quite right, and there would be no rest until it was fixed. Or at least back to being only as screwed up as it had been before this whole ordeal had started.

And, he realized with some vexation, that was a task he simply couldn't accomplish by himself.

Gibbs was slightly startled to find Tony seated mostly in the dark behind his desk in the now otherwise abandoned squad room. He'd fully expected to see the other man again before the day was over, but the visit he'd anticipated was later – likely a trip to his basement. If Tony had waited here for him to return, he must really need to talk. Or, perhaps the younger man was simply beginning not to care if his teammates knew of his occasional personal pow wows with their boss. Nah. That's doubtful.

"Am I in trouble?" his Senior Field Agent asked carefully.

"For that scene with Chip?" Gibbs spat out the name contemptuously. "Nah. Anything comes of it, I'll take responsibility. But I don't foresee Mr. Sterling generating a whole lot of sympathy."

"I could've killed him." It was stated as an observation, but the Lead Agent detected the slightest hint of a question mark behind it.

"You wouldn't have taken it that far. Didn't even leave a mark as it is."

DiNozzo processed the information carefully. He could've sworn he'd been choking the life out of the other man. Was he having a hard time differentiating his hallucinations from reality now? "How can you know what might've happened if you hadn't been there?" he challenged.

The older man considered his response carefully. "Jeffrey White."

Tony waited for more, but nothing came. "Gibbs…." he prompted. Still nothing. "Okay, I know you don't really like to talk, but I'm a little sleep deprived here, and I'm gonna need you to maybe go slightly over your daily allotment of words just this one time, 'cause I'm not really following you. I killed Jeffrey White, in case you've forgotten."

The Lead Agent allowed himself an affectionate smirk. "Yeah. You let him have a piece of your neck first, though. If it'd been me, he wouldn't have gotten that far."

"You think I waited too long?"

That hadn't been what he'd meant. Leave it to Tony to assume it to be a criticism. "No. I think you gave him every opportunity to live before you did what you had to do. You had no other choice. Even then it still bothered you."

Truth be told, Jethro Gibbs knew it was one of the differences between himself and DiNozzo. Tony's sense of right and wrong, and his capacity for empathy was, perhaps, even more firmly developed than his own. It was why he believed so strongly in the younger man's potential. And why, if it sometimes seemed he was harder on his Senior Field Agent than the rest of his team, it was because he did expect more of him.

"I was so angry."

"Angry's not against the law. Not even against the rules. Hell, it's not even against my rules."

This elicited a ghost of a smile from the troubled man. He supposed it was lucky for Gibbs that getting angry wasn't against any agency policies.

"I know. I just don't like feeling so out-of-control. You ever scare yourself, Boss?"

Tony didn't know even the half of it. Gibbs felt a stab of fear of his own as he wondered at the younger man's reaction should he ever learn the true depths of rage his mentor was capable of, and the actions it had already driven him to. Only Mike Franks had been able to prevent him from completely destroying himself. "That's what you've got us for, Tony."

"Didn't you ever doubt? Just a little bit?" his agent asked uncertainly.

"Nope."

His subordinate's first instinct was to chalk it up to an attempt to reassure him, but something about Gibbs' tone left no room for questioning. Tony couldn't imagine what he'd done to earn that degree of faith from a man he so respected.

"Thanks for believing in me, Boss. And for making the rest of the team work so hard to clear me. I never thought I'd be grateful that you were such a…." Oops. Had he almost said "slavedriver" out loud? He needed sleep, and very soon.

The Lead Agent mercifully chose to ignore the slip. "Didn't make anybody do anything. They volunteered."

It pulled at his heartstrings that the other man appeared so skeptical. "I know Abby believed in me. But, I mean, I'm sure the others must've wondered."

"Didn't seem that way to me, DiNozzo. Even Officer David was convinced it was a setup."

Ziva had seemed happier, or at least more relieved, to see him than he'd expected. Though for the life of him, he couldn't guess why she cared. She'd generally treated him with contempt or disdain. When she wasn't ridiculing him, that is. "Huh."

Gibbs figured he'd have to give his second some time to chew on that information. "Yeah, they might even like you a little bit, DiNozzo," the older man teased.

This resulted in a genuine grin, if not a full-fledged smile. "Well, what's not to like, right?" he shot back cheekily.

"Go home. Shut off the alarm. I might not even yell at you for being late tomorrow."

"I am tired, Boss," the younger agent admitted, but without moving. "Uh, just one more little thing…"

His boss simply raised his eyebrows in inquiry.

"I might've said some stuff when you came to visit me."

Agent Gibbs had figured this topic would come up eventually. "About your mother," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Among other things, yeah. Can we just forget that happened?"

Tony had tried that tactic before. "Forget? No. But I won't bring it up again unless you wanna talk about it."

Well that's something anyway. "Thanks, Boss. Guess I'll head out then."

"By the way," Gibbs attempted to add casually. "I put us on rotation for the holiday next week. Need you to let me know if you've got plans so I can tell the Director to take you off the list."

Thanksgiving. He'd forgotten all about the upcoming holiday. Well, he supposed he'd have chickened out of inviting himself to Gibbs' house for the day anyway. "Nope,no plans."

His answer pleased the older man, even if his tone of voice brought to mind a sad memory. Pacci's death. Kate telling him she had to make a call to cancel her plans for the evening. And Tony sadly informing him that he had no one to call. "Good. Pick up some beer ."

"Beer? I doubt the Director would approve, even on a holiday, Boss."

"Beer's for after work. I'll get the steaks."

"Right," Tony answered suspiciously. It's like he read my mind. How does he do that?

"Good." The younger man had stood to leave, but now was seemingly frozen in place,looking at him with a puzzled expression. "Go home, DiNozzo. Before you fall over."

The first genuine smile in several days graced the younger man's features. "I'm on it, Boss."