The next morning, Gibbs stretched the kinks out of his back as he waited for the coffee to brew. He was getting too old to fall asleep under the boat. But with his broken radius there had been no question of DiNozzo crashing on the couch so Gibbs had easily overridden his senior field agent's slurred protests as he had half carried, half dragged the younger man to his bedroom. As soon as he had hit the mattress DiNozzo had been out like a light, so Gibbs had had to be content with slipping him out of his suit jacket, removing his shoes and fixing the sling a little more comfortably, before tossing a blanket over him and heading to the basement.

For once the repetitive scrape of sandpaper on wood had not been enough to soothe him. His mind kept racing, thinking of the various ways this might play out. Whatever way he looked at it, it was clear that Vance was fully prepared to sacrifice DiNozzo for the greater good. Gibbs was damned if he was going to let that happen. Tony deserved better. Tossing aside the sandpaper he uncapped the bourbon and splashed a little into a glass, welcoming the burn on his tongue and the warmth in his chest. After a moment, a small smile had played on his lips as he had realised exactly how to play this.

Adding hazelnut creamer and three spoonfuls of sugar to one of the mugs he carried it upstairs, his lips quirking in genuine amusement as he paused in the doorway. He knew Tony would throw a fit if he could see himself right now. His beloved designer shirt was crumpled and had popped a couple of its expensive pearl buttons where the younger man had tossed restlessly in his sleep. His chin was marked with stubble, and his hair stuck out in little tuffs at every angle.

Then he looked closer and his smile rapidly faded as he took in his senior field Agent's unnaturally pale complexion, and the bare glimpse of his torso, where his shirt had rucked up, exposing the he dark, mottled, bruises on his torso. Gibbs wished for nothing more than to be able to let the kid sleep in and go take care of this whole damned mess himself. But he knew that he couldn't and more importantly he knew DiNozzo wouldn't thank him for it.

There was nothing for it but to get this show on the road. Leaning over, to touch Tony's good shoulder, he was surprised when DiNozzo flinched away from the contact, even as his eyes snapped open.

"Got some bruising there?" Gibbs asked levelly.

"Boss," Tony's eyes darted from side to side as he tried to decide just how much leeway he had right now. "I don't suppose you would believe it was a reaction based on some childhood trauma?"

"It's been a long time since you flinched from my touch." Gibbs pointed out.

"Ah, but I was fast asleep," Tony railed, as he carefully, went to sit up, not bothering to hide his very obvious wince. "Maybe, I didn't know it was you."

"Your subconscious did," Gibbs advised him, as he passed DiNozzo the coffee and crossed over to fully open the drapes and take a closer look at his agent. "Otherwise, you would have been awake and alert before I crossed the threshold."

"OK," Tony looked up at him with a scowl, even as he massaged his shoulder with his free hand. "It hurts like hell. Are you happy now?"

"Delirious," Gibbs reached out and hooked a hand under his arm, drawing him up. "C'mon."

In Gibbs imagination, Tony stood stoically as his Boss, helped him to fix his arm so he could shower, and submitted quietly to having his bruises tended to and his meticulous grooming routine observed. In reality, DiNozzo, whined, winced, kept up a running commentary, and generally made an all round nuisance of himself, until Gibbs slapped his good hand away, hard, from one last tweak at his hair and fixed him with his best glare.

"Touch it again and I'll cut your fingers off. Breakfast. Now."

Breakfast was no better. Tony banged his spoon against the edge of the bowl, in some parody of music, he read aloud from the back of the box of Captain Crunch that Gibbs had found at the back of the cabinet, from the last time Tony had stayed over, he jiggled his left knee and quoted incessantly from movies where the side kick met some kind of grisly end. Gibbs figured it was unlikely that Mossad would feed him to the sharks like Felix Leiter in Live and Let Die but he figured he should address the real issue.

"You nervous, DiNozzo?"

"Me? Nervous?" Tony forced a laugh. "Not a bit of it."

Gibbs raised a brow.

"Scared witness, Boss," Tony willingly caved. "This could be the end of my life as we know it. Vance already hates me. Ziva isn't actually speaking to me, so I don't know if she hates me but I killed her boyfriend, so I'm guessing I'm off her Hanukah list. Abby cried and McGee was nice to me. Not sure which one of those I found more traumatic. And the Director of Mossad is personally waiting to hang me out to dry to save his own sorry ass."

"True enough," Gibbs agreed. "So what's your plan?"

"My plan?" Tony repeated.

"You do have a plan, right?" Gibbs enquired.

"A plan," Tony swallowed, and looked around, as if seeking an escape. "Of course, I have a plan. Why wouldn't I have a plan? And it's a real doozie."

"So?" Gibbs regarded him over the top of his coffee mug. "Let's hear it."

"Hear it?" Tony blinked. "You actually want to know it is, right now?" At Gibbs nod, he bit his lip, thinking rapidly. Gibbs hid his smile, as he saw the moment the younger man's eyes lit up. He could practically see the light bulb over his head as Tony stopped worrying and actually thought about the problem. "The plan is .. get Eli to admit that Rivkin was acting under his orders."

"That's a good plan," Gibbs approved, but not without a caveat. "You figure out how you're going to do that?"

Tony paused considering, pursing his lips together and pointing his finger, as various ideas occurred to him, only to shake his head and let his hand drop as he found its flaws. Gibbs simply waited him out. He had almost finished his coffee, when Tony suddenly straightened and a truly evil DiNozzo grin, spread with immense satisfaction across his features.

"You know," He cocked his head at Gibbs. "I can be very annoying."

Gibbs didn't even try to hide his proud smile. Right now Tony needed all the positive affirmation he could get. Looking at the newly discovered purpose in DiNozzo's step, as they headed out, Gibbs felt better than he had all week. If they played this right, then rather than ending his career, Tony might just get the chance to show Vance what he was really made of. Gibbs almost felt sorry for Eli David. The man had no idea what was in store for him.

It was past late by the time they finally arrived home from Tel Aviv, between the time difference, the two twelve hour flights in so many days, Gibbs wasn't even sure what day it was anymore. All he wanted, was a square meal, a hot shower, and to roll into bed. But he had something or rather someone else to take care of first. He knew he had a fight on his hands. The only way he had even been able to get DiNozzo to come home with him was to claim that he was too tired to make the detour to drop him at his apartment. And even then he had had to confiscate the younger man's cell phone and threaten dire retribution when Tony had tried to call himself a cab.

Leaving his own bag in the hallway, he put the bag of Chinese food on the kitchen table, hoping DiNozzo would succumb to his hunger and start picking through the boxes. He went straight to the coffee maker and turned it on, before pulling out a couple of beers. Ducky might not approve of mixing painkillers with alcohol but right now he would do anything to get his senior field agent to loosen up. He turned back to see DiNozzo still standing mutinously in the hallway his shoulders tense and defensive, fight or flight write large across his angry features. It wasn't that Gibbs didn't understand the sentiment. He just couldn't allow it.

"Food's getting cold." Gibbs went for matter of fact.

"I'm not hungry," Tony shook his head, as he turned his back, defiance radiating in every movement. "I'm gonna hit the rack."

"Anthony."

The soft spoken word was enough to stop the younger man in his tracks. Gibbs wasn't surprised that he didn't turn around. Nor that when he spoke his voice was laced with pain.

"What happened?"

Gibbs didn't pretend to mis-understand him. He had been proud of the way Tony had kept things together in Tel Aviv. It had reminded Gibbs of the way he was went he went undercover, focused; full of wit and dangerous charm. But Ziva's decision to stay behind had hit Tony hard. The younger man had kept his game face firmly in place all the way home and even once they had got back to NCIS to write up their reports. But as soon as they were alone in the car, Tony had turned his face to the window and watched the passing scenery in uncharacteristic silence.

Instead of answering his question, Gibbs made his way around him and offered two white tablets and glass of water.

"Take 'em."

Tony looked at the pills for a long moment, then shook his head softly and looked away, his jaw tense enough to crack a tooth. Gibbs felt a pang of sympathy as he recognised the emotions of guilt and regret the younger man was feeling. But he wasn't about to let DiNozzo punish himself for Ziva's choice by being needlessly in pain. Not on his watch.

"You gonna start disobeying my orders you better have a damned good reason."

"Boss." Tony, took a long, shuddering breath.

Gibbs held his gaze and for a moment he thought the kid was still going to defy him. But then Tony sighed and snatched the pills and glass from him, swallowing them down and slamming the glass back into his Boss' hand with a glare that made co-operation seem like an act of defiance. Gibbs simply ignored him, set about pulling out the cartons of Chinese and finding a fork. Taking his own place, he stuck the fork in a carton of noodles and pushed them towards DiNozzo.

"Eat. Or I'll kick your ass."

He knew he was being a bastard and part of him didn't much care if it got his senior field agent to take care of himself. When DiNozzo got like this gentleness just confused him. He needed firm and clear direction. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't offer a little solid support. As the younger man reluctantly took a seat6 and reached for one of the cartons he rewarded the choice with a few words of praise.

"That was a good job today with Eli."

Tony looked up, from where he was playing with his food, his eyes softening slightly in the face of Gibbs' obvious sincerity. He even went as far as actually putting a forkful of the noodles in his mouth.

"Thanks for running interference with Vance for me." Tony shifted a little awkwardly.

En route to Tel-Aviv Gibbs had sat silently by as Vance had repeatedly lectured his senior field agent about his responsibilities to the Agency and his expectations as Director as regards his conduct. He had made it quite clear that DiNozzo was to expect severe reprisals if he was anything other than 100% professional. Gibbs had pressed his lips together he had long since learnt that Tony was a far better agent, if he was allowed to have his head, most of the time.

"And you leave that attitude of your on the plane, are we clear, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Crystal, Director." Tony had replied, his tone crisp and respectful.

Gibbs had simply waited until Vance had gone up front to speak to the crew. Tony had tipped his head back and had his eyes closed. But Gibbs was familiar enough with his breathing patterns to know that he was faking sleep. As soon as Vance made himself scare he unclipped himself and plonked himself next to DiNozzo, watching as the younger man turned his head sideways and slid his eyes open, giving him a questioning look.

"You do what I trained you do," Gibbs had reminded him. "Let me worry about, Vance."

Tony had swallowed hard at the unequivocal endorsement. Recognising in his Boss' words both his faith in his as an agent and his support for him as a partner and a friend. Most people recognised that DiNozzo was like a loyal St Bernard, in following Gibbs' lead. And it was well known that the former Marine looked out for his people. But most would be surprised by the true depth of mutual respect, trust and affection, that existed between the two men.

"Thank you, Boss." Tony had nodded.

Gibbs had given him an encouraging jerk of his chin, in response, before pressing one of the white pills Ducky had found for them into DiNozzo's hand, curling his fingers around it, and giving the clenched fist a quick squeeze and a little pat of reassurance, before he let go. He knew that the small act of caring and the lingering warmth of that touch would help sustain Tony through what was to come. And in the event, DiNozzo had excelled himself, Eli David didn't even realise he was being played – until it was too late.

"Just making it so you could do your job." Gibbs shrugged now.

"The whole time I was baiting Director David, I kept wondering if you had had to pull your Sig to keep Vance in the other room," Tony laughed, hollowly. "You could have knocked me down with a feather when the guy came up to me afterwards and congratulated me on a job well done."

"You were right," Gibbs shrugged. "He was wrong."

"Yeah," Tony twirled his fork around, but didn't lift the noodles to his mouth, before he met Gibbs eyes. "And so was Ziva."

"She trusted Rivkin," Gibbs allowed. "She wasn't ready to hear the truth."

"So, what now?" Tony gave up all pretence at eating, and laid his fork down, as he let a little of his raw anguish show. "Think she'll ever come back to us, Boss?"

"I don't know," Gibbs answered honestly. "She needs time to get her head on straight."

"Is that what she told you?"

Gibbs pressed his lips together. He did not want to see the look his words would put on DiNozzo's face if he told them the bald, unvarnished, truth. The younger man was already blaming himself for what had happened. He didn't need any more guilt.

"It's complicated." He evaded.

Deciding to stall a little he got up and moved to fill up his coffee, in an attempt to collect his own thoughts and put some distance between them. But even as he stood with his back to DiNozzo the words, never his strong suit, were no easier to find, but he had never lied to his partner and he wasn't about to start now.

"Boss?" DiNozzo's voice pressed. "What did Ziva say?"

"She said, she was still not convinced that you had been entirely truthful about Rivkin's shooting. She was only prepared to return if one of you transferred to another team." Gibbs admitted.

"Wait a minute, she wanted to come home and you left her there?" " Tony's tone was incredulous as he latched onto Ziva's needs rather than his own position.. "Whatever happened to never leaving a man behind?"

"Damn it, DiNozzo, are you even listening to me?" Gibbs' own voice rose, giving vent to his own feelings of frustration . "She gave me a choice. It was either her or you."

Behind him he heard Tony suck in a sharp breath as the reality of those words hit. But he could not turn around. Could not bear to see the mixture of guilt and blame and remorse he knew DiNozzo was feeling. He wasn't feeling much better himself. But Ziva had made her choice. All Tony had done had been try to protect her.

"Look," He heard the chair scrape across the floor as Tony stood up. "It's not too late to sort this out. I'll go talk to Vance in the morning. I should have moved on long before now anyway. Ziva can just put in for some leave while the paperwork clears."

"What?" Gibbs demanded. He turned around to see Tony on his feet, with a look of resignation of his face that made Gibbs want to stride over there and shake him so hard his teeth rattled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It could even turn out to be a pretty good move," Tony gave a self-depreciating shrug. "Now that I'm the Director's poster boy for pissing off the leader's of other International Agencies, I might even get somewhere exotic."

Gibbs put down his coffee cup, pushed himself off the counter and crossed the kitchen, waiting until he was right in Tony's personal space before asking sotto voice.

"Is that what you want, Tony?"

DiNozzo dropped his eyes. He had never been able to lie to Gibbs worth a damn and, if he was honest with himself he had never really wanted to. They both knew that leaving was the last thing he would actually choose to do. And he could still feel his Boss' gaze boring into him, determined to have his answer.

"No, Boss, it's not what I want," He sighed, before he looked up. "But maybe, it's for the best."

Gibbs thought about all the things he could say. He could point out that Ziva had made her own choices. He could remind the younger man of what he had said six years earlier when he had told DiNozzo he was irreplaceable. He could play devil's advocate and argue that even if Tony transferred, there was no guarantee that Ziva would leave her family and her homeland to return to the States. But he didn't think any of those things were what the younger man needed to hear.

There was really only one option.

"No." He said simply.

"Boss?" Tony blinked, but in the depths of his green eyes, confusion warred with hope and Gibbs knew he had said the right thing.

"I only just got you back from being Agent Afloat, You think I'm going to let you go again that easily?" Gibbs pointed out as he crossed back to retrieve his coffee cup and put some distance between them in the emotionally charged atmosphere. What Tony needed was for this to seem normal, familiar. "Ziva made her choice, Tony. And I made mine."

Tony looked at him, his eyes dark and unreadable. His expression slightly haunted. But he straightened his shoulders as he felt the depth of Gibbs regard. The former Marine watched as Tony crossed the kitchen to stand beside him, poured himself a little more of the strong, dark coffee and took a decisive gulp. When he finally spoke his voice was clear and firm.

"I gave you my word, about Rivkin."

"I know," Gibbs agreed simply. "And your word has always been good enough for me."

Tony nodded, accepting that. They stood shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence for a few moments then Tony took another long swallow of the bitter coffee and almost gagged.

"God, Boss that stuff is truly horrible."

"It goes down better if you eat something." Gibbs pointed out, for once not bothering to hide his concern. He had made his choice after all, and DiNozzo needed to understand how easy that had been. His senior field agent had given him his word and that was always good enough for him.

Tony met his eyes and no other words were needed.

"Yes sir." He responded dutifully. Only to pause before the forkful of noodles actually hit his mouth. "Do you think she'll call if she needs us?"

"Maybe," Much as he wanted to lie Gibbs couldn't be anything but honest. "In the meantime, we still have a job to do. You ready for that?"

"Mostly," Tony admitted, even as his face twisted a little. "The rest I figure I can fake."