"I don't want to hear another word. I'm done listening to your piss poor excuses, DiNozzo."

Tony somehow managed to both scowl and ooze the fakest contrition he had ever produced at the same time. He felt McGee's sympathetic eyes boring to the small of his back as he stood rigidly in front of Gibbs' desk receiving the mother of all dressing downs. Ziva, who was less understanding of the actions that had landed him in the hot seat than his pet Elf Lord, pursed her lips in silent approval of Gibbs' verbal assault. Tony made a mental note to ramp up his harassment of her in the coming weeks.

"Boss, I'm not making excuses. I'm trying to explain why-"

"Why you felt you had the right to disobey my direct orders," Gibbs interjected hotly. "I appreciate you ain't MENSA material DiNozzo but you're no fool. You know full well there is never an excuse good enough to justify blatant insubordination. I told you I was done listening to your grade school excuses and I meant it. We're too busy to take a sabbatical to the Conference Room right now so get your ass back to work and you will meet me at my house this evening to finish this… discussion."

Tony gulped.

McGee sighed in second hand misery.

Ziva may as well have plastered "do the crime, do the time" across her forehead.

"Boss, c'mon," the beleaguered looking SiC pleaded. "I have a date tonight! With Melanie."

"The only date you got tonight DiNozzo is taking place in my basement and I promise you that you ain't gonna want Melanie anywhere near it" Gibbs growled menacingly. "Now get your ass back to your desk now. If I were you, I would be making full use of my ability to sit freely rather than standing here yakking and making things worse for yourself. Move it. Now!"

Spluttering in indignation, Tony spun on his heel and did as he was bid with all the grace of a steroid using elephant. Throwing himself into his desk chair, he mutinously clacked away at his keyboard. He stubbornly and sulkily ignored the grinding of Gibbs' teeth and the warning glares of molten proportions that were being shot at him. He was also too incensed by the indignity and unfairness of it all to pay any heed to McGee's silent pleas to straighten himself out. Not even the thoughts of the impending paddling or strapping he had obviously bought himself could curtail his open rebellion as he aggressively shuffled paperwork around his desk. Gibbs, to his credit, resisted the urge to march over to his right-hand man and shake the stupid out of him. Instead, he stormed from the bull pen in search of coffee and a breather.

"Tony," McGee groaned. "Do you have some kind of a death wish? You push him any further and he will find the time to drag your ass to the Conference Room and you'll end up getting it again at his place this evening anyway. Why make it worse?"

"Because it's so unfair," Tony exploded, gesticulating wildly at his JFA. "What did I do that so criminal, huh? Look out for my team? Last time I checked, that was a pretty central part of the job description. If I hadn't taken that perp down, Gibbs would likely be minus a shoulder right now and what thanks do I get, Probie? Huh? None. That's what. Anyone in their right mind would be on bended knee thanking me for saving their ass. But not the Boss, oh no. All he cares about is tanning my ass for watching his six. I swear to God, Probie. Mark my words. When I have my own team, I am never gonna be like the Boss. My people will actually be rewarded for having the guts to do what needs to be done even if that means not following every single protocol a bunch of suits came up with!"

Ziva cleared her throat delicately.

"Tony. You could have been killed. That is why he is so angry. Surely you see that?"

Tony, who had quite forgotten she was in the room, rolled his eyes at her naivety.

"Oh please," he drawled. "Don't be dense, Ziva. He's pissed because I challenged his authority. That's all. It doesn't matter that it was to save his damned ass. He's like a race horse. Blinkered. There's no point in even trying to explain to him that he would have done the same if Mike Franks was about to be shot. Hell, he probably has done the exact same thing and has the audacity to give me hell for it. It's so…"

What it was, they never knew. Gibbs came sweeping back in from the elevators and with him came an equally sweeping silence. Knowing full well he had just interrupted a classic DiNozzo rant about how much a jackass he was, the put-upon Team Lead threw himself back down at his desk with a sigh and thought wistfully of his Mexican cantina. His safe space. The rest of the day passed in tense silence with each Agent working their assigned leads diligently. Tony even forgot he was consumed with the rage of injustice as he delved deeper and deeper into the paper trail he was following. Darkness crept across the windows steadily before Gibbs eventually called it a day.

"Aright. That's enough for now. Regroup and start afresh tomorrow.. Dismissed."

McGee and Ziva got to their feet quicky, each dreaming of a hot shower and an equally hot meal. Tim paused long enough to shoot Tony a look that conveyed his sympathies and his plea not to do anything stupid. Ziva's parting glance was more acerbic but she softened when she saw the deflated torso of her teammate and friend and murmured a soft goodnight to him before following Tim out of the bullpen. Stifling a groan, Tony knew that to delay would only result in hardship dragged himself to his feet and packed up his desk. Gibbs stood with a stretch and scrubbed a hand across his aching eyes before eying his SiC with a small sigh. It was going to be a long night.

"You want to catch a ride with me or drive yourself, DiNozzo?"

Tony didn't look up.

"Whatever you say. You're the Boss."

Gritting his teeth, Gibbs grabbed his keys and cell phone from his desk and strode across the room.

"Drop the lip right now. You're in more than enough trouble as it is."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs groaned internally. Tony was usually quick to accept his follies when they occurred and the corresponding consequences but when he didn't… he really dug in. Rubbing a hand through his snowy white hair, the older Agent considered his words carefully.

"C'mon Tony, don't make this harder than it has to be. You're better than that."

Brown eyes flashed with annoyance as Tony looked up at his more-than-just-a-boss.

"All I did was save you from a bullet. I watched your six. That's my job… and you're giving me hell for it. You expect me to be cool with that, Boss? Would you have been cool with it if it was the other way around and it was Mike Franks's ass you saved from a bullet?"

Gibbs shook his head sadly.

"You nearly got your head blown off to save me from a simple through-and-through shoulder wound, Tony and you disobeyed me to do it. I can get by with a sore shoulder for a while… I can't really get by with you in a coffin."

Tony thawed slightly at that.

"I get that. But Boss-"

"Tony. I said I was done listening to excuses and I meant it. Grab your stuff and let's go. Words ain't getting through to you but I bet I can find something that will. Double time, move it."

Glaring, Tony threw his wallet into his pocket as Gibbs stalked towards the elevator ahead of him. A sudden wave of reckless abandon washed over him and an idea popped into his mind. It was an idea that he had had before but had never had the balls or dishonour to act on. This time was different and, as if on autopilot, he reached into the second drawer in his desk and quickly slipped something from it into his pocket. Following Gibbs into the elevator with his heart hammering, he slumped against the wall as it hurtled to the car lot. The drive to Gibbs' place was silent as hell. When they entered the house which was as familiar to Tony as his own apartment, he cut Gibbs off before he could open his mouth.

"Can I use the restroom before… whatever you're going to do."

"Sure," said Gibbs quietly. "Go ahead and come down to the basement when you're done."

Not answering, Tony spun on his heel and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the upstairs bathroom. Hardly daring to believe what he was about to do, he fished the small tube out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment. Snapping to a decision, he quickly unfastened his jeans and dropped them to his knees alongside his shorts. Biting his lip, he smeared a healthy dollop of the clear, thick liquid that he squeezed from the tube across his butt. It was mercifully without fragrance and dried quickly. He remembered that it took five minutes to kick in and slowly redressed and washed up carefully before heading downstairs.

Gibbs was examining his latest boat frame when he entered the basement.

"She'll be ready in about seven months," he murmured to Tony, rubbing his hand along the grain.

Tony didn't answer but rather, started mutinously at the sawdust strewn floor.

"Silent treatment, Tony? Really?"

"Condemned man has a right to his last words. Makes sense he also has the right to no words, Boss."

Feeling a headache begin to nip at his temples, Gibbs shook his head.

"I'm not disappointed in you often, Tony, but when I am… I really am. You're letting yourself down right now, not to mention you're letting me down along with the team. I have explained to you exactly why you're in trouble but you've decided you don't want to listen. That's fine, that's your choice. If you don't want to listen to what I have to say, that's fine. You can go right ahead and drop your jeans and shorts to your knees and bend over the bench. You just talked your way out of any warm-up."

Without a word of retort or complaint, Tony turned to the horribly familiar bench to the left of him Gibbs had cleared it off the usual clutter that adorned it, like an executioner sharpening their axe. Making short work of it, Tony again lowered his jeans and shorts to his knees and bent over the bench, holding onto the sides tightly, his face turned away from Gibbs who moved to stand silently behind him. He expected to hear the sounds of the paddle that hung on the near wall being removed but instead he heard the unmistakable sounds of Gibbs unfastening the thick leather belt he wore and removing it from his pants.

Gibbs knew damned well he hated the belt a hell of a lot more than the paddle.

Gritting his teeth, Tony waited to see if his act of defiance was going to pay dividends. He felt the familiar warmth of Gibbs' hand on the small of his back as the man held him in position. He heard the cut of the wind as the belt was raised high and brought swiftly down to land squarely across his prone backside with a deafening crack. A thick, vibrant stripe of red bloomed across his behind which would usually be accompanied by a delayed hiss and strangled squawk of pain from its recipient… but not this time. Although logically Tony knew the thick leather had delivered a searing swipe across his butt, he didn't feel a thing. Not even a tickle. A slow smile, hidden from Gibbs, spread across his face.

Victory was his.

…

A/N: Random Two-Shot. Second and last chapter will be up soon. Just something that popped into my head... a sulky, devious Tony! Maybe Gibbs won't find out? Who knows!

All other stories will be updated shortly.

Inks x

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