The creeping awkwardness spread like toxic smog. Any casual bystander would never believe the silence that soaked into the walls of the Director's office surrounded men who had already shared a lifetime. There was no eye contact, each occupant staring religiously ahead, jaws taut and rigid. It was Gibbs who eventually broke the sickly silence. His voice was low, and infused with an overwhelming dose of lingering contempt. He turned his back on his emancipated protégée, thrust his hands into his pockets and spoke directly to the expansive windows. His words were the first to be spoken between the two in four months.

"Didn't take you long to come running back then."

Tony stared silently as he drank in the opening words of the inevitable meeting. He had known deep down that the joint investigation would be viewed in this manner by Gibbs. When in truth, it was the last thing he wanted to do and NCIS was definitely the last place he wanted to be. But the job was the job, and he wasn't about to have his teams' right to the case trampled on because of personal…differences. "I'm not back," he replied simply, keeping his tone deliberately aloof, "But this case is as much ours as it is yours. I'm just making sure that my team-"

Gibbs' snort of disdain cut him short, as he continued to speak to the windows at large.

"Your team?" he echoed, shaking his head in a twisted amusement, "I've heard it all now."

Tony paused and digested. He waited for the tidal wave of anger he had experienced in the basement those four months ago to rise at the mocking words. But it didn't. He felt nothing. There was something oddly liberating about his lack of response as he pressed on . "I'm just making sure that my team are as involved as we have the right to be. You are free to handle the navy leads in the case of course, but the Vice leads remain ours. Any resulting collars from a Vice lead and legwork, are also ours."

Gibbs slowly turned at his former second's comments and finally looked him in the eye. His blue gaze burned with scorn. Tony returned the stare with a glacial indifference that had Jenny still been present in the office where they stood, it would have brought a tear to her eye. "That's what you've become, is it?" the elder of the two murmured dangerously, "A bean counter? A glory hunter?" He shook his head. "Four months out of this place and you've already turned into every other ladder climber in this hellhole of a city." He grunted lowly in his throat with contempt before shrugging to himself. "Least you're not a reflection on me anymore. Small mercies and all that."

Tony raised a brow, but consciously avoided the bait.

"I'm glad you've found the concept of mercy in your life, Agent Gibbs," he murmured, "Now, my team are at on scene at the moment. I've held them off until I got the green light from Vance, but I'm going to join them now and conduct our own investigation. If we find anything of relevance forensically, I'll be sure and send it to Abby. It'll just be faster that way, for both teams. I will do my best to ensure that we have a little contact as possible, but the job still has to come first." He hesitated for just a moment, before offering a cursory and dismissing nod of his head. Starting towards the door, he was stopped in his tracks as he neared the handle.

"No."

Closing his eyes briefly and wearily, Tony pivoted on the spot and raised a brow in Gibbs' direction.

"No?"

Jaw clenched tightly, Gibbs nodded. "No," he repeated. "I can't stop this joke of a joint investigation, but I'll be damned if you and your ah…dream team, are going to use NCIS resources. You use your own lab, and your own people. Abby is off limits. So are Ducky and Palmer. You want something done, then you get it done yourself."

He paused to arch a condescending brow. "Shouldn't be hard, seeing as you're so independent now and all. And by the by, you might have started this investigation, but a dead body trumps your international prostitution ring. Not that you've even proved one exists to my satisfaction. So joint investigation or not, this is my lead. You will stay out of my damned way and work with what I give you, when I give it to you. Do you think you can follow all that, or should I write it down?"

The indifference Tony had clung to was rapidly beginning to fade as Gibbs' words were straining to batter the walls of his defence. He felt his own teeth come together painfully as the patronising tone washed over him with a cold splash. "I don't think you understand, Agent Gibbs," he ground out lowly, "I do not work for you anymore. Therefore, I do not take orders from you anymore. You however, continue to take orders from Director Vance, and I think he made it quite clear what those were. Do you think you can follow that, or should I draw you some kind of picture?"

Gibbs took one step closer, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I let you walk out of my house on two unbroken legs the last time you spoke to me like that. Keep in mind that I might not be in such a generous mood today."

Tony took one step closer, his hackles instantly rising, no matter how hard he tried to contain them.

"The days of me swallowing your little threats and your snide comments are over," he hissed, "You understand me? They're over. I will lead my team on this case in my own way, and you yours. The idea of being within a hundred feet of you makes my stomach turn, but for the sake of the case, I'll do it. If you cannot do the same, then maybe… take a little holiday. Drink a little bourbon, build a little boat. By the time you stumble back here, the case will be done and I'll be gone. Everyone wins."

He felt a savage spark of pleasure as he saw his words hit home. His head was beginning to swim with the sudden surge of chemicals seeping from his brain. This was not how he intended the inevitable meeting after the basement showdown going. He had planned on remaining indifferent and aloof. He had scripted himself as being the professional of the two. But Gibbs' words had gotten under his skin like a ravenous tick. His disparaging comments about his team had triggered a dormant rage in him. A rage he still carried for Gibbs that he had briefly, and in hindsight foolishly, thought he was clear of.

"You think you can lead a team?" the elder of the two scoffed, breaking into his thoughts. "You really think you can be an agent in charge?" He smirked with such arrogance that Tony felt his fists twitch longingly at his waist. "News flash, Agent DiNozzo…overgrown frat boys from Ohio State? They generally don't get very far in this game. Do yourself a favour and don't get your hopes up for any big promotions. Whatever Mickey Mouse team you got over at Vice, that's it for you. That's as high as you go. A glorified narcotics detective." He shot a look of such ridicule at his former second that the walls seemed to vibrate with projectile mirth. "So don't you come in here and talk to me about how I lead my team."

The red mist was descending over Tony's eyes.

"You think you lead your team?" he spat, "You think you've ever lead your team? Let me tell you something Agent Gibbs, you don't have a team. You have a group of people who you threaten, put down and trample on with your last century shoes until they submit. You mistake respect for fear and tyranny for leadership." He smiled a cold smile. "How are things going with McGee by the way? Have you broken him in yet? You got him just how you want him? You don't want to wait too long you know, otherwise he might just get to see a glimpse of his own worth. And then he'll run a hundred fucking miles away from this place. And you."

He let out a humourless laugh, his eyes never leaving Gibbs'.

"You still a betting man?"

He chuckled eerily once more at the elder man's obvious confusion.

"What am I saying? Of course you are. Drinking and gambling are the same pleasure centres in the brain, right? Well, let's have a little flutter, Agent Gibbs. I wager you a hundred dollars that this time next year, you'll be all alone in your bullpen. Hell, I'll be generous and give you a year and a half. Bishop's still got some sweetness in her, you'll need time to drive that out of her, and drive her away."

He paused for a moment, before shrugging slightly. "Anyhow, time is ticking and whether you want to admit it or not, we do have a case." He threw his head towards the door. "Unless you have any more last words, I'll be on my way. I don't know how you do things around here now, maybe you're too fragile…but if not, I guess I'll see you at the scene." He managed to cross the office entirely and rest his hand on the door handle before Gibbs spoke again. There was a definite tinge of something indecipherable in the older man's voice. It wasn't anger or contempt, it wasn't indifference or loathing. It was more like…sadness.

"Make sure you have your ID ready to show the team. You walked out on them too. They might not remember what you look like, after nearly half a year with not a word."

Tony turned once more, but this time there was no anger in his tone when he spoke.

"Walked out on?" he echoed slowly. "I didn't walk out on anyone, Agent Gibbs. I was the one who was walked out on. By you. You walked out on me, not the other way around. As for the team…they shouldn't have any trouble in recognising me. I've been having lunch with Tim, Abbs and Bishop…Ducky and Palmer too. Every week without fail."

He opened the door and stepped into the oddly bright hallway, and looked back for a final time. Gibbs was wearing a completely incomprehensible look as Tony closed the door on both him and his closing words.

"Didn't you know?"

…..

A/N: Gentle reminder, there's an ending in mind for this. It's not going to be a constant row between the two, but I think Tony deserves his chance to vent.

Thoughts?

Till next time.

_Inks

….