It was late and he should have been home, grinding away the tension of the week with long, sure strokes of sandpaper against wood, a mug of bourbon never more than an arms-length away.

But there was paperwork to do, and since his current team consisted of only himself and DiNozzo, he figured he should spend his anxious energy getting a head start on it so they wouldn't be buried come Monday.

He smiled a bit, remembering the shock on Tony's face when he had declined the former cop's offer to stay and help. Gibbs knew he had made the right decision when Tony had nodded his goodbye—over an hour later—and Gibbs had seen the haunted quality to his green eyes.

It had been there, subtly of course because Gibbs was learning that his new agent rarely showed anything real, for a few days now, and Gibbs figured it wasn't too soft of him to give the kid a break after a hellish month. A month that had started with a suicide, a murder, dragged a bit through the middle with some drug busts and ended with them pulling a four-year-old's body from a Marine's backyard that afternoon. The staff sergeant's wife had confessed immediately, her eyes shining brightly with whatever madness had led her to kill her own child.

Yeah, it had been a hell of a month.

Even the routine notification to a father of his eighteen-year-old son's death in a training accident at Parris Island hadn't been routine. Leaving the man's city apartment, Tony had spotted a carjacking in process and taken off after the suspect like a man possessed. When Gibbs drove up after following the nearly mile-long chase, he had had to pull a furious DiNozzo off the bleeding suspect.

Gibbs figured the guy had resisted.

He didn't ask.

Because Gibbs also figured any man who would toss a pregnant woman out of a car and make to drive away with her screaming toddler in the backseat deserved a little rough justice.

Even if his agent had broken a finger … subduing … him.

The stark whiteness of the tape securing that finger to its tanned neighbor wasn't what made Gibbs stop short as he returned from a coffee run on this late Friday night—it was that DiNozzo was even back here at all.

I did tell him to go home, right?

Tony didn't seem to hear the ding of the elevator signaling Gibbs' arrival, and the lead agent used the opportunity to study his new partner in a moment of total unguardedness.

DiNozzo was slumped sideways in his chair, his long legs propped up on the corner of his desk as he stared out of the large windows of the squad room. The young agent didn't speak or move, and Gibbs crept close enough to see the swelling and greenish-purple bruising giving away the damage to his finger that DiNozzo had mostly ignored. Gibbs thought back to Tony's embarrassment at Ducky's fussing and realized Tony hadn't mentioned it since, even though he had been the one schlepping all the equipment as they went about their heartbreaking task that afternoon.

Kid woulda made a good Marine, Gibbs thought. Except that an elephant could sneak up on him.

"Hey, Gibbs," Tony said softly, making Gibbs grin and mentally eat his words. "Thought you'd left for the night," he added, a bit guiltily.

"Thought I told you to go home," Gibbs returned, moving around and getting a good look at Tony's haunted eyes, twin pools of pain amid an otherwise cheerful countenance.

"I figured I could get started on this paperwork so we won't be buried come Monday," Tony said, watching Gibbs study him. Something changed subtly in his expression and he pasted on a mock-pout. "And my date cancelled last-minute so…"

Nice try, DiNozzo, Gibbs thought, unnerved that Tony had spoken almost his exact thoughts. He just nodded and moved to his own desk to get started again. He divided his attention between the reports and his agent, who had swung his legs off the desk and was staring at his computer screen. Gibbs would have bet his monthly alimony costs that the screen was as blank as his young partner's eyes, but he didn't say anything.

He wondered which of their recent cases was bothering the agent, but he didn't ask. Knowing Tony's mouth, he would probably start talking sooner rather than later.

Turns out it was later, much later—like two hours later—and Gibbs was glad. He was ready to go home, but damned if he would leave first, even though DiNozzo had been alternately typing awkwardly around his broken finger and staring blankly out of the large windows into the hazy, humid summer night.

"Can I ask you something?" Tony finally said, fiddling with his phone cord and not really looking at his boss.

"You just did," Gibbs replied, watching Tony look up suddenly, as if startled.

DiNozzo smiled tightly before turning back to his monitor. "Never mind."

Gibbs turned back to his own work, wondering why being such a bastard came so easily to him. The kid obviously had something weighing on his mind. Would it really be so bad to ask him what it was and let him talk it out? Gibbs knew that beneath all the showboating and false bravado, he had found the real deal in DiNozzo. It would be a shame to lose all that potential to burn-out—or his own stubborn gruffness.

Gibbs shut down his computer and moved across the room, leaning on the empty desk opposite Tony's. Should probably find another one, he thought. So I can stop running him so ragged, he added silently, noting the darkness under his agent's eyes. Gibbs snuck a glance at his watch, wondering if DiNozzo was going to ignore him.

"It's just after midnight, Gibbs," Tony said, not looking up from the file on his desk. "You don't have to stay."

Gibbs bit down on a smile at that. He summoned patience usually reserved for Abby and asked, "So what's on your mind, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked up, confused for a moment before lifting a shoulder with a slight tightening around his mouth that made Gibbs kick himself for not checking the agent for injuries he couldn't see along with the damaged finger he could see. He had noticed DiNozzo moving a bit more slowly than usual earlier, but at the time, he had chalked it up to exhaustion—or being in no hurry to photograph a child's dead body in such excruciating detail.

"It was nothing," Tony said, going back to the file. He continued when Gibbs' shadow stayed across his desk. "Don't worry about it, Gibbs. It's late. Go home."

"You giving the orders now?" Gibbs asked, more sharply than he had intended. He reached again for that elusive patience. "What were you going to ask me?"

Gibbs watched Tony remove the glasses he knew the kid didn't need and rub a careful hand over his face. He was about to give up when Tony finally spoke, his voice quiet and contemplative.

"Do you ever think it's odd to work for an agency that investigates crimes committed by people who are supposed to be protecting the country?"

Gibbs blinked. This certainly wasn't what he was expecting. He figured that's what he got for trying to anticipate Tony in the first place. "We investigate crimes against them, too," he said, trying not to think about the Marine struggling to hold it together as a stone-faced Tony had cuffed his wife for the murder of their son.

Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah. Good point," he said, turning off the computer and standing so carefully Gibbs almost dragged him downstairs and called Ducky. "I'm gonna go now," he said, almost sounding as if he was asking for permission. As if it wasn't after midnight on a Saturday morning.

Yeah, definitely need to keep this one, Gibbs thought, nodding and watching Tony juggle his keys, wallet and phone in one hand while grabbing his jacket with the other.

Just do it, Jethro.

"You wanna have a drink?"

Tony stopped in his tracks, and Gibbs realized he had seen the agent look less wary facing down armed suspects. Gibbs watched him mentally scramble for a moment, thinking he was probably wondering if this was a test of some sort.

"It's just a drink, Tony," he said, watching Tony wince and knowing it was not from the keys dangling from his damaged hand but from Gibbs' rare use of his first name. "Not asking you to marry me."

Tony grinned uneasily. "Okay," he finally agreed. "Meet you at …?"

"My basement."

Tony just looked confused. "Never heard of it," he said, not sure if he was joking—or if Gibbs was.

"As in the bottom floor of my house?" Gibbs offered, punching the elevator button and watching Tony try not to squirm.

"What's wrong with a bar?" Tony asked, making Gibbs wonder if it was being in his boss's home that was bothering him or if it was the lack of neutral ground.

"What's wrong with my basement?" Gibbs returned, trying not to smile at the chagrin on Tony's face.

"Nothing, I—"

"Relax, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, letting the smile out of its cage. "Just don't see the point in spending good money on something I've got a perfectly good bottle of at home."

Tony nodded, still looking wary.

Gibbs gave him the address and they parted ways. As Gibbs settled behind the wheel, he wondered how long—and how much alcohol—it would take to figure out which case had DiNozzo so unsettled. As he drove, he mentally reviewed his agent's personnel file. There were no suicides of close family members, only his mother's accidental death, so he figured that was out. Gibbs doubted it was any of the drug cases, considering Tony had worked narcotics in Baltimore. Tony hadn't mentioned his injuries from the carjacker, much less the case, so that probably wasn't it. The young recruit's death was tragic, but it too had been accidental and nonviolent.

Of course, the mother murdering her child was horrifying enough without having any personal connection, but Gibbs had seen the haunted pain in DiNozzo's eyes days ago, before they even knew they would be spending the morning digging a child from his own sandbox.

In short, Gibbs had no idea what was bothering his agent, but he knew he had to find out.

A/N: This will likely be only a few chapters long. I know, shame on me for posting before it's finished! Anyone want to take a crack at which case is causing Tony's unrest?