AN – So, I really wasn't going to write this. But then CD57 suggested it would be nice to have some Tony looking after Gibbs time – and I kinda liked that idea and I wanted to address the concerns that Gibbs was being too hard on McGee, plus I had a day off today, so consider this a bonus chapter. But now I have to go to work so final chapter either Wednesday or probably Thursday.

And for terra fea1 'dying in harness' just dying on the job, so Tony would be stepping into dead men's shoes as their team lead, in this case after Gibbs demise, not something I think he he would be keen to happen anytime soon – I didn't think it was just an English expression but maybe I'm wrong about that.

"You know," Tony spoke conversationally, as he leant against the wall the following morning, watching as Gibbs signed his discharge papers. "We could always go to my place. I have that big leather couch, and the plasma TV with every sports channel you can think of. And my new raindrop shower would be great for your shoulder. It has a massage facility."

"Not allowed to get the stitches wet, remember?" Gibbs didn't even spare him a glance, as he returned the forms to a smiling nurse.

"Not allowed to work on the boat either," Tony reminded him. "Complete rest the Doctor said at least until you have given that shoulder a chance to heal up some. That means no woodworking, no running, no hand-to-hand combat, no cleaning things within an inch of their lives or any of the other fun things you like to do. You heard the man I'm under strict orders to bring you straight back here if you try pushing things."

"I heard," Gibbs agreed, putting the last of his few personal effects into the small holdall on the bed and zipping it up. "Loud and clear."

"So, my place?" Tony asked, without much hope.

"Nope," Gibbs didn't disappoint. "You pack a bag like I told you to?"

"Yes sir." Tony sighed his defeat all too aware that his own actions already proved that he had figured he was fighting a loosing battle all along.

That got him a grin. "Smart move."

Reaching over with his good arm to pick up the bag, Gibbs wasn't entirely surprised when Tony was suddenly beside him, his warm brown hand closing possessively under the handles. The two men engaged in a staring contest for a few moments, Gibbs' feeling a spark of pride and affection, when Tony refused to back down. With a quirk of a smile he acceded to the younger man's wishes and let go, allowing DiNozzo to carry the bag for him.

He drew the line at wheelchair through, pretending not to notice when Tony shortened his long stride to his more careful pace as he tried not to jar his shoulder any more than was necessary. Listening with only half an ear to his chatter as they made their way to the parking lot Gibbs reflected on the sweats, zip up hooded fleece, and slip on deck shoes, DiNozzo had brought to the Hospital. All clothes that he had been able to easily manage one-handed and avoid the awkwardness of needing help to get dressed. That level of thoughtfulness spoke volumes. As did the careful way the younger man drove then through the familiar streets to his residence.

"So, what are we going to do for the next two days?" Tony asked, as he jogged back down the stairs, having deposited their bags in their respective rooms, and finding Gibbs in the kitchen, going through the motions of brewing a fresh pot of coffee. "Besides stare at the walls."

Gibbs gave him a look, even as he reached into the refrigerator for the coffee beans. He wasn't surprised to see that someone had been around and cleared out the out of date foodstuffs and done some grocery shopping. From the eclectic mix of his and DiNozzo's favourites, plus a few things he had never even see before, he figured it was probably Abby.

"You could try reading," He suggested with a straight face. "You might even like it."

"For two days?" Tony countered, as he moved around Gibbs and started pulling out onions, tomatoes and a large pan, which he set on the counter. They both knew he read widely enough. He made a reproving face as he plucked the bag of coffee beans out of Gibbs hands and directed him with a look to one of the chairs tucked under the kitchen table. "I'll do that. You are supposed to be resting."

"I can still make my own damned coffee." Gibbs protested.

"Not if you want me to make Lasagne." Tony informed him cheerfully.

Gibbs hesitated only a moment, before he sank into the chair. DiNozzo's Lasagne was a thing of legend, made from scratch, from entirely fresh ingredients it was a true labour of love, which he saved for special occasions and very special people. Gibbs wasn't going to pass that up. He watched for a moment as Tony fixed his coffee just as he liked it and set it to brew.

"You make the pasta already?" He asked.

"Came over before to mix and roll the dough," Tony agreed. "It's drying in the pantry to make the sheets easier to handle."

"Someday you'll have to show me how to do that."

"Really?" Tony raised his eyebrows. Gibbs was a good cook but his recipes tended to be of the meat and gravy variety. Making pasta from scratch was fiddly and time consuming. "Wouldn't have thought it was exactly your kind of thing."

"I like to eat it." Gibbs shrugged his good shoulder.

"That's true," Tony gave him a quick, bright grin. It was rare that he got to teach the ex-marine anything and he always felt uniquely privileged when Gibbs allowed it. "I still have some flour left over. But not this weekend, you really need two good hands to do it right."

"Then it looks like this weekend is as good a time as any to have that talk you keep on putting off," Gibbs decided blandly. "Seeing as there is nothing better to do."

"McGee," Tony realised, torn between irritation at how deftly Gibbs had manoeuvred him into a corner and admiration that the man knew him so well. Sinking down into the chair opposite his Boss, he ran a hand through his hair before looking to his friend, mentor and surrogate father for guidance. "I don't know what to say to him. So, our little Probie is all grown up and wants a chance to prove himself that's not exactly a crime."

"Do you think he's ready?"

"I think he thinks he's ready," Tony countered. "And I've spent the last few years encouraging him to grow a back bone and stand his ground when someone challenges him. Sometimes, I feel like I've created a monster. But I can hardly complain when he starts to use my own tactics against me."

"It's a question of judgment," Gibbs pointed out. "And balance. You might act like a first class ass sometimes but you know when to pull your head in and focus on the task in hand."

"Gee Boss, you say the nicest things." Tony grinned at him.

"McGee's always been ambitious," Gibbs continued. "But in the past his arrogance has been cut down by his inexperience. It's difficult to get too much above yourself when reality keeps bringing you back to earth with a kick up the ass."

"Except, now he doesn't make as many mistakes as he used to, not to mention the new Director has been stroking his ego with all that geek speak," Tony agreed. "We both know I can't compete with that. Boss, McGee's got all that IQ, he will always have the drop on me when it comes to the brain stuff."

"Cleverer doesn't always mean smarter, Tony," Gibbs reminded his protégé. "And right now, McGee is in danger of becoming a lose cannon."

Tony's expression sobered as he realised the full seriousness of the situation. This wasn't just about the sibling rivalry between the two men. If McGee made a rash call or disregarded an order because he didn't respect Tony's judgment then he risked getting himself or someone else killed. The IA enquiry that followed a screw up of that magnitude would make that whole cop shooting episode look like a Sunday school picnic. DiNozzo hadn't invested all that time and energy in his Probie to see him throw away his career or maybe even his life in a fit of pique.

"I know," He dropped his head onto the table, covering it with his hands, so that his next words came out muffled against the smooth wood. "I'll talk to him."

Gibbs regarded him for a moment, tipping his head on one side as he waited patiently for his second to regain his equilibrium. DiNozzo was right to think it wouldn't be easy, but it was necessary and he had no doubt that Tony was up it. Even so, when the younger man began bouncing his head none too gently off the table in his frustration he figured it was time for a spot of tough love.

"You want me to talk to him?" He challenged.

That brought DiNozzo's head up sharply, his eyes wide with eager hope as he considered the offer. He even went as far as opening his mouth to accept. But something in Gibbs' expression as their gazes locked across the table made the words die in his throat. Summoning his resolve, he shook his head, knowing that he was making the right choice.

"No, you're still on sick leave, this is my team, my lead, my problem, I'll deal with it."

"Good," Gibbs nodded his approval, before looking longingly over Tony's shoulder at the coffee pot. Just sometimes he wished his tastes didn't run to it being quite so strong. Days like this it took too damned long to brew. DiNozzo's chair scraped across the floor, the sound loud in sudden silence, as he got to his feet and filled a glass with water, placing it and two white pills wordlessly in front of him.

"I put your bag in your room," He offered, his eyes focusing on the lines of pain and exhaustion around Gibbs eyes. "You could go up and .. unpack. I'll bring you up your coffee when it's ready."

Gibbs stared at the pain medication for a moment, before scooping them up in his hand and throwing them back, crunching them between his teeth as he pointedly ignored the glass of water. Maybe a lie down wouldn't be such a bad idea. Although, he was grateful that DiNozzo had the plain good sense not to make it sound like he needed a nap.

"Maybe I will." He allowed.

Steeling himself he rose carefully to his feet and made his way across the lounge room. He felt slightly lightheaded and his shoulder throbbed with each step. It seemed to take an age to get to the bottom of the stairs. When he put his foot on the first riser, he felt DiNozzo's arm wrap around his waist, leaning in a little to let him put his good arm around the younger man's shoulder, as he took most of his weight. Nothing more was said, as they made their way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Head?" Tony asked.

"Bed," Gibbs responded tiredly, letting himself be supported as Tony pulled back the covers and lowered him down onto the mattress. He tolerated DiNozzo's hovering as he toed off his deck shoes and swung his own legs around, leaning back into the pillows as he yanked the covers back up. Once he was comfortably settled he looked up and scowled at his continuing presence. "You waiting on something?"

"Not me, Boss." Tony assured him, as he turned and headed towards the door.

Gibbs paused, as an idea hit him. McGee was a proud and stubborn young man. Gibbs admired him for that. And he hoped that his conversation with the junior Agent had given him some food for thought about his present capabilities. But the fact remained that if he and DiNozzo couldn't settle this he might lose one or both of them, one way or another, and he wasn't prepared to let that happen.

"DiNozzo."

He watched as Tony turned on his heel, his expression open and receptive, ready and willing to do whatever it was the ex-marine wanted or needed. It made Gibbs chest constrict a little to see it and he had to swallow hard before he was sure his voice would come out even.

"McGee."

"Calling him now, Boss," Tony nodded. "Although, I still don't know what I'm going to tell him."

"Then don't tell him," Gibbs smiled dangerously. "Show him."