"Maybe the murderer took the weapon with him," said McGee, poking through the debris they had left behind. The two of them were back at Lieutenant Walker's apartment, searching the living room.

"Maybe," replied Tony, crawling around on the floor, looking under the sofa and entertainment center.

McGee straightened up and looked at Tony. "Then what do we expect to find?"

"Another Eiffel Tower statue, or something shaped like that," Tony said irritably. " I don't know, just keep looking."

Tony stood up in the middle of the room and looked around thoughtfully. He stared at the bloodstains on the carpet, trying to discern a pattern. His eyes narrowed as he followed the blood to the sliding door. The door was closed, and he was pretty sure it had been closed when they first got to the murder scene. There was blood on the balcony, though, and no blood on the handles, inside or out. Tony slid open the glass door and went outside, looking around. He saw a blood stain on the railing. Careful not to smudge the blood, he leaned over the railing and looked down. There was some dense underbrush directly underneath.

"McGee," Tony called out, "go outside and see if you can find anything in the bushes down there."

"Right, Boss."

"Abby," Tony called, striding into the lab. He handed her an evidence bag with a small statue in it.

"You found it!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Yeah, it was outside the building. The killer must have tossed it off the balcony," Tony said. "The officers who found the body closed the sliding glass door so we didn't see the blood on the balcony. Rookie mistake." Tony shook his head ruefully.

"I'm going to need you to match the blood on that thing," he said, "and see if you can get any prints from it. Please."

Abby grinned. "Will do," she said. "Good job, Tony. You should talk to Gibbs about this."

"Gibbs is in Mexico, Abs," Tony said.

"No, he isn't," she replied. "He's back, I went to see him."

Surprised, Tony asked, "When did he get back?"

Abby shrugged. "I don't know, a few days ago I think."

"Oh," Tony said, faintly.

"You should go see him, he looks good," she urged.

"Maybe later, I have to question Porter. I'll need those results before I do, Abs."

"It'll take awhile, you should go see Gibbs while I'm running the tests."

Tony smiled, uncertain. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll just stop by."

Tony stood at the back door to Gibbs' house, uncertain of what to do next. What was he thinking, just coming over the minute he heard the man had returned from Mexico? It wasn't as if Gibbs had called and said he was back. He hadn't asked Tony to come by for a visit, or meet him for coffee. Hell, as far as Tony knew he was nothing more than an ex-teammate, his former subordinate and successor.

"In or out, DiNozzo," Gibbs' familiar voice bellowed from inside. "Make up your mind."

Chuckling, Tony shook his head and opened the door, walking into the kitchen with a grin on face.

"Welcome back, Boss," he said.

"I'm not your boss anymore, DiNozzo," replied Gibbs. The older man looked relaxed. His hair was slightly longer and he sported a healthy tan. He poured a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot and motioned for Tony to help himself.

It was Gibbs who broke the awkward silence. "It's good to see you, Tony," he said, a genuine smile on his face. "You look good."

Tony smiled. "Good to see you, too, B...Gibbs. You look well rested."

Gibbs snorted. "Yeah, having nothing to do but fish and stare at the ocean does that to you."

"Bored you to death?"

"You got it."

Gibbs went to the basement door and started down the stairs, pausing to give Tony a 'Come on' look. The younger man dutifully followed.

Tony sat down on the stairs, eyes sweeping the familiar basement. He'd never been there in the daytime; the light coming through the small windows wasn't enough to brighten the entire space. Dust floated in the rays of sunlight, giving the room a dreamlike, smoky feel.

Gibbs was standing at the workbench, pulling down the tools he was going to use.

"Have you figured out how you're going to get this thing out of here when you're finished with it?" asked Tony.

"When the time comes I'll have it all worked out," Gibbs replied.

"You've only got about three feet of wallspace that's above ground," said Tony, thoughtfully. "You could dig a ramp in your backyard and knock out part of the foundation.

"You'd have to be careful, though," he continued. "You'd have to reinforce the wall, put in some load-bearing supports so the side of the house doesn't come crashing down."

Gibbs stopped what he was doing and turned to face the younger man. "You ever work in construction?" he asked.

Tony grinned. "Only for a summer. You didn't think I would ever do any manual labor, did you?"

"You constantly surprise me, DiNozzo," replied Gibbs, picking up the sander from the bench and heading to the skeletal form of the boat. Tony wondered if Gibbs had taken it apart, and started over again, it seemed less finished than the last time he was down here. He sat watching Gibbs sand, enjoying the easy air of camaraderie that had returned between the two men.

"Did you find what you were looking for in Mexico?" Tony asked suddenly.

Gibbs looked over at him briefly, then continued sanding. "I don't know what I was looking for. I did a lot of thinking, a lot of drinking..."

"A lot of fishing," interrupted Tony.

Gibbs laughed and nodded. "I never want to see another fish unless it's broiled and sitting on a plate."

Tony laughed. After a moment he asked, "What did all that navel gazing tell you?"

Gibbs paused and looked down for a moment. He turned and faced the younger man. "Never run away from your problems," he said seriously.

Tony nodded. "You coming back?" he asked softly.

"I am back," Gibbs replied, returning to his sanding, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"I mean to NCIS." Tony's eyes were trained on the mug of cold coffee clasped in his hands. "We could sure use you, Boss."

"I'm sure you're doing fine."

Shaking his head, Tony pushed himself up and wandered over to the workbench, idly picking up tools. "We've got a real weird one. We have a victim and a weapon, a possible suspect, massive amounts of blood and DNA that doesn't match the victim. To make matters worse, the vic is a Rear Admiral's son, so brass is all over us to get this one solved."

Gibbs nodded. "I heard."

Tony looked surprised. "You heard?"

"Ziva told me about the case."

"Ziva was here?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Earlier," replied Gibbs. "She came by, we talked for a little while, then she left."

"About the case?"

Gibbs nodded. "Among other things, yeah."

"Oh." Tony looked uncertain. "Abby said she saw you too."

"The other night."

"I see."

"DiNozzo, they showed up uninvited, just like you. There wasn't any welcome back party that you didn't know about. They were spur of the moment visits, don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm not making a big deal," protested Tony.

"Well you've got that hurt puppy dog look on your face, like there's a conspiracy to keep you out of the fun. There isn't."

"I don't look like a puppy," Tony muttered under his breath. He stood there sullenly playing with a tool. Holding it up, he asked, "What the hell is this?"

"It's a circular ship's plane, you use it when you're working with convex or concave surfaces."

"Like a ship's hull?"

"Yup."

Gibbs continued to sand, giving the younger man a chance to gather his thoughts. Finally, Tony spoke up.

"Ziva doesn't think I'm doing a very good job of leading the team under pressure," he said softly.

Gibbs put the sander down and faced Tony. "What do you think?"

Tony sighed. "I used to think I was a good investigator, and that I could be a good leader. We were doing fine until this case come up. We keep running into brick walls."

"Look," Gibbs said, with just a bit of an edge, "I walked away fast and tossed you the team. And I'm sorry for not giving you more warning, but I didn't do it lightly. You're capable. Hell, you're highly capable. You care about the job and you care about the people. That's all I ever did." Gibbs took a few steps toward Tony, until they were eye-to-eye. "You can do this job. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not Ziva, not the Director, not yourself. Understand?"

Tony's response was instantaneous, "Gotcha, Boss."

"And stop calling me Boss."

There was silence for a moment. "Thanks, Gibbs," he said softly, a crooked smile slowly emerging. "I guess I needed to hear something like that." His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly.

"Want to order a pizza?" he asked hopefully. "Let me pick your brain? I'll buy."

Gibbs laughed. "If you're buying, sure."

... to be continued