Chapter 12:

To say Tony was tense, would be like stating that Antarctica was a little chilly or that Mt. Everest was only a little hill.

He followed Gibbs reluctantly, but seemed to be ready to run any second. The ride in the elevator down to the garage had been awkward but the drive in the car was a downright catastrophe.

Gibbs even noticed a sheen of cold sweat on Tony's forehead. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that the younger man was terrified.

But this was his Senior Field Agent. A federal agent, the same agent who called himself, Very Special Agent DiNozzo. The man he had seen giving witty comments, while facing the barrel of a gun, pointed at him by a serial killer. A man he liked to call friend, which was, considering his history of scaring off agents and his impatience with probies, quite remarkable.

So why would he be afraid?

Gibbs had decided that the question of overnight stay wasn't worth another stuttered and nervous discussion and had just decided to take Tony home with him.

He was determined to ignore Tony's obvious incapacity to ask for help and just give it anyway.

Once they had arrived at his house, he got out of his car and headed for the door. He only realized that he wasn't followed by DiNozzo, who remained seated in the car, half way up the stairs.

"DiNozzo! Quit the nonsense and get your sorry ass out here!" He barked. Hiding in the car? This was getting ridiculous.

Tony got out of the car, but stopped, standing between the open car door and the car, somewhat shielded from Gibbs.

"Boss?" he asked wearily.

"What is it, DiNozzo?" He really wished he could understand what was causing his Senior Field Agent to behave so irrationally and strange since this had started. Normally, he was a fairly sensible man.

"Ummm… Where are we?"

Gibbs shot him a funny look. "Well, that's my house. What do you think?"

"Your! House!? This is where you live?" He stared, somewhat bewildered up at the two story family home, freshly painted and neatly maintained, with the nice garden, where he could make out a Hollywood swing standing.

"Your home?" Was that fear Gibbs could hear in the question of the younger man? Anyway, finally Tony dropped his gaze, in what seemed to be quiet defeat and followed him inside.

Once inside Gibbs went through the motions of getting home after a long workday; stowing away his gear, hanging up his jacket, switching on the lights in the living room and kitchen, turning on the radio, and making some coffee. When the coffee machine was filled and running, he turned and realized that DiNozzo had again stopped behind him.

He was standing in the doorway from the hall to the living room. His posture was stiff, his gaze lowered to his shoes. It seemed that he tried to be as small or inconspicuous a man his size and stature could be, he didn't even dare to look around.

"DiNozzo, what are you doing?" The gaze of the younger man stayed focused on the floor and he refused to answer.

Gibbs sighed silently, what was he going to do? He had no idea, what was going on in the head of the other. He was good at reading people and even though DiNozzo was a master in masking his feelings and thoughts and had his deflections developed to a form of art, Gibbs prided himself, that he saw behind the silly frat boy image he'd created and seemingly perfected around others. But tonight he was failing.

"DiNozzo," this time it was more a bark than before, "Ya waiting for something?"

Did he see a flinch there? What the hell?

Then Tony's gaze came up, meeting his eyes with a detached look. There was a shift in his position from tensed to overly leisure. A cocky smile started to shine on his face. His voice was smug now, seemingly aimed to provoke the older man.

It was a great act, but Gibbs saw it for what it was, nothing more than a well practiced, self-assured act.

"So boss, this is all really pottery barn homey, and I'm sure you chose to bring me here for means of privacy. But can we just get it over with?"

"Get what over with?"

"Well, you know, I was never one to put a dressing down on the long bank."

Gibbs just stared at him, trying to figure out what he was talking about in the first place, a shadow of doubt and insecurity crept over the younger man's face. He was easily leaning against the doorframe, his posture aimed to portray how relaxed he was. But he failed to cover up his real emotions fully.

"What?" Gibbs voice was soft once again, as the realization was dawning on him of what Tony was expecting from him.

With a played hurt expression, that betrayed the terror he felt, Tony said: "Oh, come on Gibbs, I can take it. I actually appreciate that you didn't do it in front of everyone back at the office. I screwed up and I probably deserve all your yelling and ass-kicking and it's only reasonable to fire me now."

He looked around himself, considering how far Gibbs would take it. He had searched the privacy of his home for this. Even though Gibbs had left the corps over ten years ago, he hadn't lost his strength or skills. Tony was in for a hell of a ride.

"Okay, bo… Gibbs! I can take the punishment!"

Gibbs' stomach turned upon realizing Tony thought he had taken him here to punish him. He was actually expecting a beating and thought he would be fired.

Gibbs was cultivating his reputation to be a hard-ass-ex-marine. He'd told them that the second b stood for bastard.

But he would never raise his hand against a coworker, a team member, a partner, a friend, for god's sake! A head slap or two when they got off track, but never with a malicious intent behind it. Never.

He was hurt that Tony would think he would do something like that.

What affected him most was that DiNozzo, expecting punishment, had followed him anyway, was ready to accept whatever he would do to him. That was a cause for deep concern.

Hot fury rose up in him, not directed against Tony, but against whoever had installed it into the young man to think that it was okay to punish him, that he was a screw up who deserved a beating.

Quietly he said. "Oh Tony."

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