As soon as they arrived back at NCIS Gibbs saw to it that their two suspects were escorted to interrogation. It wouldn't do them any harm to cool their heels for a while. His priority was his Agent, DiNozzo might claim that he was 'fine' but he had been unusually quiet during the ride back to headquarters and his complexion was unnaturally pale.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs collected the Italian with a jerk of his head, as he headed towards the elevator. "With me."
"Gibbs we don't have to do this," Tony visibly tried to rally, straightening his shoulders as he tried to look well, even as he followed his lead onto the elevator. "I'm fine."
"You want me to take you straight to Bethesda?" The ex-Marine challenged as he pressed the button to take them to autopsy.
"I'm just saying it's not necessary. I've had worse than this playing basketball, with girls. Thin women have really pointy elbows. A little ice and a couple of pain pills and I'll be good to go."
"Then you won't mind Ducky checking you out." Gibbs countered.
"Anyone ever tell you what a bastard you are?" Tony asked without heat, as he conceded defeat.
"All the time," Gibbs agreed, with a tight grin. "What do you think the second 'B' is for?"
He watched impassively as the elderly MD calmly checked out the swelling around Tony's eye and wrapped the puffy ankle. Gibbs didn't know whether to be pleased or concerned when the Italian's self diagnosis turned out to be correct. The hand wasn't broken but there was no way DiNozzo could fire his weapon until the swelling went down and some flexibility returned.
"Desk duty?" Tony looked at the MD in shock.
"Mandatory, I'm afraid my dear boy," Mallard was unmoved by his consternation. "At least, until you can re-qualify on the range you're not eligible for field duty."
"So, I can push a pen, but not fire a Sig Saur?" Tony mocked bitterly. "Where's the logic in that?"
"To the best of my knowledge no-one has ever got anyone killed because their hand writing was illegible," Mallard observed. "The same can hardly be said if your aim is off."
"Suck it up, DiNozzo," Gibbs intervened as he saw the younger man open his mouth to argue further. "Until Ducky clears you, you don't get to leave your desk unless it's to use the head or to get me coffee. Are we clear?"
Tony scowled. He hated desk duty. But the resolute expression on the ex-marine's face persuaded him that further argument would not only be fruitless, but possibly dangerous to his continued well-being and future career prospects. Besides, part of him figured he probably deserved to be punished, for letting Harris get the upper hand. He knew better.
"Yes sir." He acknowledged miserably.
As they rode back up to the bullpen Gibbs could feel DiNozzo sneaking sideways glances at the ex-marine, as if trying to gauge his mood. The ex-marine knew he had surprised the Italian by not being more pissed at the scene but his willingness to side with the MD over confining him to a desk seemed to have un-settled the younger man.
As he exited the elevator and settled himself behind his desk he could feel Tony's eyes following him. Pulling a manila file towards him, he was aware of the way the younger man was shifting uncomfortably in his own seat. A few moments more and DiNozzo surged to his feet and strode across the room, becoming more hesitant as he came to stand in front of the desk. Gibbs looked up coolly, as if nothing was amiss.
"Something I can do for you?"
"I'm sorry, Gibbs," Tony blurted his apology. "I should never have let Harris get the drop on me the way he did. It was a rookie mistake. I never meant to leave you an Agent down."
"You think you could take me in a fight, Tony?" Gibbs raised a brow.
"Is that a trick question?" the younger man asked warily.
"You work for the Navy now," Gibbs reminded him. "About time you learned the difference between surrender and being overpowered by a superior force. Harris is a Marine, you don't have the kind of combat training he does."
Tony took a moment to process that. He knew Gibbs had high standards but it was a comfort to realise he didn't expect the impossible. For once in his life Tony didn't feel like a complete disappointment. Taking a deep breath he took his courage in both hands. Gibbs might be even more pissed at him for asking but it was worth a shot.
"Working for the Navy I'm guessing Harris won't be my only run in with the Corps."
"Probably not."
"So, you were a Marine, could you teach me? I mean, once Ducky clears me. I don't need to know all the Vulcan death grip stuff. I know that's a brotherhood kind of thing, just enough to stop getting spread across the sidewalk."
Gibbs looked up at him, his eyes narrowing with a new respect. From time to time he had subjected his people to hand to hand combat training either as a sanction, to try and toughen them up for the field, or simply to make a point. But he had never had an Agent actually step up and ask to endure one of the gruelling sessions before. Unfortunately, his silence went on too long, letting DiNozzo leap to the wrong conclusion.
"Tell you what, forget I said anything, you've got more important things to do," He was already turning away but not before Gibbs had seen the flash of disappointment in his eyes. "It was a bad idea anyway. My father always said teaching me anything was a waste of his time."
"DiNozzo!"
Gibbs waited until the younger man had turned around, his eyes dark and wary. Not for the first time he wondered what kind of childhood the younger man had had. His most precious memories were of teaching Kelly, to ride her bike, go horseback riding, working on the boat. How could any father think that passing on his knowledge to his own flesh and blood was a waste of time?
"You ever done any boxing?" He smiled.
For the next couple of hours everything went smoothly. Determined to stay in Gibbs' good books DiNozzo busied himself with phone calls and paper trails, doing his damndest to plough through the routine and boring paperwork, with only intermittent whining. Gibbs didn't expect it to last. A mind as bright and intuitive as DiNozzo's would quickly get bored.
"What's that?" Tony eyed the stack of files Gibbs dropped on his desk warily.
"Cold cases." Gibbs shrugged. "See what you can find."
He didn't miss the way that DiNozzo's eyes lit up, like a kid who had just been given a bag of candy, ruthlessly shoving aside the busy work and letting himself be drawn into the web of murder, witnesses and intrigue. Two hours later he was still totally absorbed his lips moving silently as he read over witness statements.
And as the time passed and Robert's goading cut a little too close to the bone or the Italian got so restless that he could barely sit still Gibbs showed some mercy and sent him out to fetch coffee, escort a prisoner, or help out in interrogation. He wanted to teach him a lesson, not break his spirit. It was almost the end of the day when his phone rang.
"Grab your gear, we've got a dead marine," Gibbs announced. "Not you, DiNozzo."
"Oh come on, Gibbs," Tony tried, already on his feet, his weapon in his hand. "I promise I'll be careful. You're not really going to leave me behind. You need me."
Gibbs couldn't deny that he would miss the Italian's insight. Roberts was a solid law enforcement officer. Her experience, as a FBI agent, had been a natural foil to Burley's political background and Gibbs military knowledge. Still, the ex-marine thought she had begun to rest on her laurels a little too much lately. It was good to see DiNozzo snapping at her heels. Still, he wasn't about to let the kid out into the field when he was injured. That kind of thinking might get himself or someone else killed.
"Amazing as it may seem, DiNozzo we were solving cases long before you came along. We'll manage just fine without you."
He meant it to be reassuring. He knew the Italian was beating himself up over leaving him a man short. He didn't see the look of shocked hurt that passed over DiNozzo's face as he watched his retreating back. But when he walked back into the bullpen three hours later his eyes went straight to the conspicuously empty desk.
"DiNozzo, where the hell are you?" He snapped into his cell.
The twenty minutes that it took to drive to the Italian's crime scene did nothing to diminish his fury. As he exited the Agency issue sedan Gibbs mouth set in a thin line as DiNozzo detached himself from a small group of local LEO's and double timed it over.
"What kept you?" DiNozzo grinned brightly at Roberts. "I already took photos, lasered and sketched, and interviewed the sole witness," DiNozzo nodded in the direction of a small, thin, man, before directing his attention to Gibbs. "It looks like a straight forward suicide, or as straightforward as these things ever are."
"Dawn," Gibbs saw the MD's truck pull up. "Go help, Ducky."
"Help him do what exactly?" Roberts queried.
"Whatever he needs." Gibbs snapped with cold fury.
She took the hint and quickly left, casting a semi-sympathetic look at DiNozzo as she went. The Italian eyed the ex-marine warily, as if realising he was in trouble, but not sure exactly why. Stepping up into his personal space, Gibbs spoke quietly.
"You forget you were riding a desk, DiNozzo?"
"C'mon, Boss. All the other teams were tied up. There was no-one else. You really want me to leave this guy hanging whilst I shuffle paperclips?" He winced. "Bad choice of words."
"DiNozzo."
"Look Gibbs," Tony was uncompromising, giving no quarter. "When we've finished here you can take me down to the gym and kick my ass if you want. But in the mean time we have a dead petty officer and a family waiting for answers."
"Are you done?" Gibbs said dangerously mildly.
He watched as the Italian looked away, his eyes hooded and dark with pain as he considered whether or not to try and push his luck, and finally deciding that he couldn't possibly make things any worse he sighed heavily.
"My Mom died when I was ten," He managed. "She was missing for two days before they found her body. I think those were the longest forty-eight hours of my life. I didn't want the Petty Officer's family to keep wondering any longer than they had to."
"Yeah, I know, and that is the only reason I don't fire your ass right now," Gibbs surprised him. Gibbs had little time for Agents who put proceedures over poeple. He'd bent more than a rule or two in his time to get the job done. But that didn't mean he'd stand by and let his team take foolish risks. "You're still off the case. Go back to Headquarters and wait for me there."
"But Gibbs .."
"Do you want me to fire you?" Gibbs demanded harshly.
"No sir," Tony retorted in as insolate a tone as Gibbs had ever heard him use. "I'll be a good little Agent and go sit on my ass rather than doing the job that you hired me to do."
Gibbs sighed as he watched the younger man turn on his heel, anger and frustration evident in every lien of his body. Truth be told he thought the Italian was too close to this one and he had no intention of making him go through the hell of speaking to the family. Still, things would go a hell of a lot easier if DiNozzo would just follow his lead.
"Maybe, I need to get him a leash." He muttered.