Tony turned the water up as hot as he dared and let it wash over him. He knew it wouldn't be enough to obliterate his thoughts, but it at least it eased the tension in his muscles. Normally, when he felt like this, he would go to the office. He could lose himself in the work. It grounded him and made him feel more real. Like he was contributing something. Like he mattered.

That just wasn't an option right now.

For all his boasting to McGee, Tony knew exactly how far he could push his boss. Sometimes he deliberately over stepped the mark, just to check the boundaries were still there. But Gibbs had told him he wasn't to set foot in the office until he said so, and if he disobeyed him on this Tony knew – injured or not - Gibbs really would kick his ass.

Turning off the water he stepped out and wrapped the towel around his waist, before wandering into the spare room and searching fruitlessly through the good pants and thin designer knitwear Kate had picked out for a pair of sweats, or one of the old, well worn sweatshirts, he kept in the bottom of his closet. Gibbs kept his house a little cooler than Tony usually liked and when he was injured his blood always seemed to run a little thinner.

"Damn."

The small defeat seemed more important than it should and he sank onto the floor, feeling the tears burn behind his eyes. Pinching his nose he wasn't sure whom he was angrier with, his father for casting his shadow over one of the best evenings he'd had in a long time. Or himself for letting the man still get to him after all this time.

He shivered.

"I swear, DiNozzo," Gibbs exasperation was laced with concern. "Are you trying to catch pneumonia?"

Striding forward through the door, he rifled efficiently through the holdall, snorted his opinion of Kate's packing and disappeared, only to reappear with a thick towelling dressing gown in a deep blue and an almost embarrassed look on his face. Tony didn't try to hide his surprise as he automatically checked out the label.

"Designer?" He raised a brow. "You been holding out on me, Boss?"

"Not a word, DiNozzo."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony assured him, as he shrugged gratefully into its soft warmth. It was only slightly smaller than he usually wore, which would have made it fairly large on Gibbs. "Which ex?"

"Third," Gibbs admitted. "Damn thing cost almost a month's salary. I couldn't bring myself to throw it out."

Tony sat at the kitchen counter and wrapped his hands around the large ceramic mug of coffee, letting its warmth seep into his soul as he tried not to look at the box in the corner.

"There's creamer in the refrigerator." Gibbs surprised him.

"You bought me creamer, Boss?"

"No, Abby brought you creamer. I just paid for it," Gibbs fixed him with a knowing look. "So, are you going to open it?"

"Just as soon as you go collect an award."

Gibbs took another sip of his coffee, feeling it trickle warm and rich down his throat, watching the complete lack of emotion on his senior field agent's face. Noting the dark circles and the red-rimmed eyes, he cursed inwardly. Tony had enough to deal with right now he didn't need this as well.

"Its almost," Tony hesitated. "Nothing would be better."

"I know."

He did. It was why he had been divorced so many times. After Shannon died he had tried to recapture that same magic. But it had never been the same and nothing was better than empty, hollow, love. Instead, he had made himself another family, unconventional to say the least, but more of a family for that.

"At the Hospital," Tony swallowed. "Did you mean that?"

"You ever know me to say anything I didn't mean, DiNozzo?"

"Well, you said 'I do' to wife number three and we all know how well that turned out." Tony said flippantly, uncomfortable with the intense look in his Boss' eyes. "And then there was that time .."

The swat to his head was a lot harder than usual and he yelped in pain and surprise, fixing his Boss with a wounded look. "What was that for?"

"For being such a dammed idiot," Gibbs growled. "If Abby was injured, or Ducky decided to retire, do you really think I would turn my back on them without a second thought?"

"No, of course not!"

"So, what makes you so different?"

"Didn't think I was in the same league." Tony said softly.

The words cut through Gibbs like a knife. He knew that he wasn't as demonstrative with Tony as he was with Abby. And he wasn't as patient with him as he was with the verbose Englishman. But he had always assumed that Tony understood that he was special. He knew Kate was mystified by the way he appeared to indulge Tony's childish antics at work, never going past a word or a look in reprimand. He'd got used to the way that Morrow, always brought him extra coffee whenever Tony had to go undercover. He knew that other teams often used Tony to communicate with him, knowing that he afforded him far more leeway than he would ever grant to any of them. Did the younger man really think that their relationship was nothing more than a supervisor's concern for an employee?

Apparently so.

"Go the bed, DiNozzo." He ordered sharply, taking his coffee and heading for the basement.

"Ducky, I swear, I don't know what I said," Tony ran a hand through his hair was he paced, keeping his voice low so his Boss wouldn't hear over the furious sounds of sanding in the basement. "One minute he was fine and the next, .. you remember that case where the little boy fell out of the moving car ..?"

"That bad?" He could hear Ducky's frown come through the phone line. "Tell me again, Anthony. What did you discuss?"

"I told you .. creamer .. that dammed box .. family .. you and Abs .. yada yada."

"What was the last thing you said to him? The exact words."

"I said, I didn't think I was in the same league." Tony shrugged.

There was an uncharacteristic silence as the MD processed those words. When his reply came it was coloured with certain reluctance, as if he felt that he was in some part betraying a confidence.

"I'm afraid you have rather hurt Jethro's feelings."

"Me?" Tony stared at the phone in disbelief. "What did I do?"

"Its not your fault," Ducky soothed. "The good Lord knows, Jethro isn't one to share his feelings easily. You need to be able to read between the lines, and whilst you may be a very accomplished investigator, I rather fear that your own dear parents did not adequately equip you for that particular challenge."

"Ducky, you've lost me."

"Which rather proves my point," Ducky mused. "Don't fret dear boy, all you need to do is take the bull by the horns and talk to him."

"Now?" Tony winced, hearing the sharp, angry sounds that echoed up from the basement.

"It never does to let these things fester."

"Alright," Tony straightened his shoulders. He had survived being knifed, shot at, tortured and almost drowned. And those were just in the last few months. He could do this. "Um, Duck? What do I say?"

"I always find in these kind of cases, that the truth is the most beneficial. You trust him with your life, do him the honour of trusting him with your feelings."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Duck."

"Whatever you may think, he cares a great deal for you. You could not have wounded him so, otherwise. Go and talk to him."

Tony braced himself as he descended the stairs to the basement. At least the harsh, angry sounds had stopped, to be replaced with a soothing, almost hypnotic sweep of cloth over wood.

"Um, I thought you might want a refill?"

Gibbs had his back to him, his body shielding whatever it was he was working on, as he intermittently reached over and dipped his cloth into a tub of wax, applying it in small, loving, circles.

"I'll just leave it here." He put the cup down.

Nothing. Tony closed his eyes briefly. His head hurt and his arm ached, his eyes felt scratchy and dry and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week. This was a bad idea. Perhaps, things would be easier in the morning. Maybe, they could just pretend nothing ever happened.

"I thought I told you to get some rest?"

Tony took the words as the invitation they were meant as and came further into the room.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Talking to Ducky will do that for you." Gibbs agreed.

Tony winced slightly, but Gibbs didn't sound mad. He hadn't told him to get the hell out. And he was talking.

"What are you working on?"

Gibbs gave him a look over his shoulder that clearly said he knew Tony was avoiding the subject. But, nonetheless, he stepped aside and let him see the solid wood side table he had been polishing.

"Been working on it for a year now, on and off," Gibbs was talking. "Took a bit longer than I thought to source the wood. Then I had to work out the design. It would have been finished before now. But we've just caught cases back to back lately and then you landed up in the Hospital. And the wax needs time to soak into the wood between coats."

"Can't rush quality." Tony agreed.

He wandered across and leafed through the papers strewn across the workbench. The plans were meticulously drawn up, every detail and measurement clearly thought out. In the notebook, Gibbs thoughts on the work in progress, from choices of wood, to styles of joints and the benefits of the various different types of wax, were neatly documented, every page a testament to the hours of work and care that Gibbs had invested in this project.

"So, what do you think?"

"It'll look great in your living room."

In answer, Gibbs gave him an expressionless look, before walking over and picking up a DVD that from its title could only belong to Abby. Walking easily back to the table, Gibbs slipped the DVD into one of the cubbies in its the side. It fit perfectly.

Gibbs didn't own any DVDs.

Assessing now, Tony walked slowly around the piece, considering it from every angle. The top was made out of one single piece of wood, the grain running through it in a rainbow of honey colours. Each leg was shaped and carved to add interest without going over board. Each little cubby had been meticulously finished inside and out, held together with tiny hand carved dovetailed joints. Not a nail or spot or glue to be seen. He felt his lips curve in a soft smile as his fingers traced the delicate lines of the vegetation growing up one of the legs.

"Poison ivy, Boss?"

"And don't you forget it." Gibbs tone was gruff but his eyes were twinkling.

"It's .." Tony swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. "It's amazing."

"You haven't got a damn thing you care about in that fancy apartment of yours that you can't pack up and put in a suitcase. Its about time you had something more permanent in your life."

"About that, Boss?" Tony had the strength to do this now. "Can we talk?"