Author's note: Next chapter, a little longer, Tony's POV. Thank you for your reviews, they are inspiring.

Have fun.

Chapter 6:

The day passed with a lot of probie work and a rather frosty exchange with Kate and McGee, who were still mad about the pranks of the day before. Fair enough.

When Gibbs sent them home Tony froze, causing Gibbs to obviously lose his patience. He called him an idiot, again. But, given the last few days he couldn't really blame him. He ordered him to go home and threatened him about staying at NCIS over night. There was no choice, once again, he had to leave.

The moment the elevator doors slid shut, leaving him alone and out of sight of others, he started to curse loudly. He cursed Kate for being smug, he cursed the Probie for being so incredibly green and he cursed Gibbs for his damn self-righteousness.

It felt really good to let it out. He had been silently beating himself up all day. His thoughts were captivated in a struggle of guilt, self-hatred and self-pity. These battling thoughts provided for an incredibly exhausting day which made him irritable and unreasonable.

In the solitude of the elevator he could be as unreasonable as he liked. So for a change he just turned all his pent up emotions into outward aggression. He had verbal abuse for all of his friends; even Ducky and Abby got their fair share.

The elevator was like a secret hideaway. Nothing that was said or done in the elevator left the elevator.

He flipped the emergency stop button, stopping the cart in between two floors.

He had given way to his feelings towards himself by turning on his friends. Now, here you are acting like an honorable person, he thought bitterly.

Even though no one would ever know, but him, it had been wrong. He'd been acting like a brat.

He was spending a major part of his time acting childish, or better, tried to be as child-like, with the connotations of a light-hearted, free-spirited, fun loving person, as possible. To own a bit of the special type of care-free innocence that a child possessed, was his most ardent, yet unattainable desire.

But even more commanding and driving in his life was the need to be one of the good guys. He was aware that he wasn't blessed with the best disposition for this. It was just impossible for him to become someone dominated by selfishness, greed and anger. He could not and would not become an aggressive, violent, abusing monster. His self depended on that, so he had to fight it with every breath he had.

Standing in an elevator, cursing people who had not done anything wrong, was definitely not part of fighting his aggressive and abusive urges. Way to go, DiNozzo!

Once he had calmed down, guilt and self hatred began to take a vice like hold again.

He was vaguely aware that he was caught up in a vicious circle. Gibbs was right; he needed to adjust his attitude. The problem was, right now he just didn't have the means to do so.

Being in the small elevator cabin soothed him somewhat. He'd always liked small, confined, dark spaces. When he was little, he had spent quite a lot of time in his closet.

For a moment he dwelled on the idea of just staying in the elevator for the night, Gibbs had probably blocked it for a longer period, using it as an office. But he had been unequivocally kicked out and he really wasn't aiming to lose his job.

He turned the switch again and continued to the parking lot, considering once again his options; he got into his car and drove off.

For a couple of hours he just drove around town, without destination, just to pass time and keep his thoughts from wandering around.

But he was tired, the day had been exhausting. If he continued to drive he risked not only his own life and his beloved car, but, could become a hazard to others.

He ended up parking in front of his apartment building. He would have to sleep in the car. Once again, he was blessed by his special, personal luck, as the weather had again worsened and the temperatures had dropped. Now it was actually freezing outside.

He had a blanket for emergencies and some clothes in his trunk and he pulled on a couple of shirts, jackets and a pullover over each other.

He tried to sleep in the driver's seat of his mustang. Without much success. He loved that car, but as it was a vintage model, it proved now to be not as super practical as he had originally thought. It was not possible to recline the back rest of the seat to actually find a comfortable lying position. When he tried to rest his legs on the passenger's seat the clutch was in the way.

He vaguely remembered a time in his teenage years, when his sexuality started to blossom, when the constricted space of a car had not bothered him at all. Well, he had become a fucked up old man after all.

To make things even worse his hands and feet were getting really cold. He searched his trunk again and came up with two pairs of socks. One he pulled as a second over his feet, the other one he used as substitute gloves.

Now he tried the back seat. He could lie down here, but it was far from comfortable. His back would kill him tomorrow. Finally, he was able to get some rest and fell asleep.

It felt like only seconds after finally closing his eyes that he was startled awake by the ring of his cell. What had he thought choosing such an annoying ring tone?

"DiNozzo?!" he answered sleepily and confused, trying to get his bearings and wondering why the hell he was sleeping in the backseat of his car.

"We've got a tip. Picking you up now."

Gibbs! Oh, for Christ sake, couldn't the man have a normal conversation over the phone like anybody else? Had it always to be that military bark? Just a "Hello" once in a while would be enough.

So it would be one of those nights! Then suddenly, it hit him. He was sleeping in his car and his boss was on his way to pick him up. Oh no!

"What? No! I…"

"DiNozzo, I swear if you are not home right now… I'm just pulling in your street. You're home, right?"

"I'm home, sort 'a. But Boss…"

"I'm here. Be down stat, or I'm coming to get you!"

The call was cut off abruptly. It had been one of those special Gibbs conversations of sate-your-business-in-ten-words-or-less. He'd had no time to come up with a cover story, not time to even panic; he already heard the screeching tires and saw the ridiculously speeding car coming towards him.

Seconds later, he'd had just enough time to voice his dominant thought once to himself, oh shit! Then Gibbs was standing in front of him.

Tony swiftly considered the possibility that Gibbs would not notice that something was different, that he was sleeping in his car. That he would just let it slide. He had to give credit to himself for the fantasies he could come up with. Obviously Gibbs knew what he was looking at. Shit had hit the fan now.

Tony had been in trouble for the last few days, trouble he had no means to handle himself at all. Surely, he wished that someone knew and someone might care enough to help. But his problems were not that important, not that severe, not worth mentioning.

DiNozzos did not ask for help.

An ugly black cloud of guilt and self-consciousness formed in his chest. He'd finally proved it to Gibbs just how weak he was, how pathetic. Displayed in full glorious view on the backseat of his car.

So this is how it feels to lose the respect of the man you admire most, he reflected.

Gibbs opened the car door and barked: "DiNozzo!"

Tony hurried to get out of the backseat; he lost the socks and some of his warm clothing and grabbed his gear. How incredibly embarrassing.

"Boss!" His voice was a little higher than normal and his cheeks had flushed a deep shade of red. He avoided looking into the eyes of the older man. Not wanting to see pity or judgment.

"DiNozzo! What the hell is going on?"

Tony did not know how to respond. His bosses' voice was laced with anger and impatience, but he could also hear a hint of concern. Maybe, he heard it, because he wished so badly for it to be there. Concern, would mean someone, Gibbs, cared. Big, fat delusions you're nurturing there, DiNozzo, he scolded himself.

He would not deliberately add to his indignity, by whining about his predicament. You can't run around bothering people with your personal problems.

"It's fine!" he answered. Gibbs was dangerously silent and the atmosphere turned even more awkward.

"Don't we have to get going?" Tony went over to Gibbs car, trying to escape. Gibbs did not say another word to him. He was feeling utterly miserable.

Author's note: The next update will probably not be before tuesday, because I had a little too much fun last night at a party and tomorrow start my intern year.

Please, be patient and review in the meantime.