"Go drop your stuff off in your room." Tony headed upstairs; Gibbs, downstairs.

On his way to the basement, Tony glanced at the coffee table. The paddle was still there. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

Gibbs watched Tony walk down the stairs and settle on his customary step. He caught the slight wince and silently kicked himself for being so impulsive. He ran his hand across the board he'd been working on earlier. "You are suspended for two days."

"I know," Tony said, hanging his head.

"It goes without saying that for those two days, you will not leave this house for any reason without permission." Tony nodded. "It also goes without saying that you will not turn on the TV while you are here."

"But Boss, what am I supposed to do all day?" Before he'd even finished the question, he suspected he knew the answer. The look he got from Gibbs confirmed it. "Forget I said that," he said quietly. He was going to spend the next two days serving as free labor for Gibbs.

"Go get ready for bed."

"It's not even 9:30!"

Gibbs shot Tony a look, only partly able to believe that he was arguing with him after what had happened less than twenty-four hours earlier. With a petulant huff, Tony went upstairs, and Gibbs made a decision.

Ten minutes later, he put down his tools, made a brief stop in the kitchen then headed up to the guest room. He knocked softly on the door and pushed it open. Tony was stretched out on the bed, clearly pouting.

Tony immediately searched Gibbs' hands, but he wasn't holding the paddle. Instead, he saw a mean-looking wooden spoon. He deflated visibly. "Boss…"

Gibbs shook his head, silencing Tony's whine. "I let the director discipline you for the rules you broke and for what happened to the car. But this is personal," he said, gesturing with the spoon. "You disobeyed me after I specifically told you that we would search the warehouse in the morning once we had a warrant. And you did it because you were trying to impress me all the while knowing that the best way to impress me is to do what I tell you to do. Right?" Tony opened his mouth to protest. "Right?" Gibbs asked a bit more forcefully.

"Right," Tony admitted reluctantly.

Gibbs stared at Tony for a moment, waiting. But Tony didn't budge. "Tony," he said warningly. Tony still didn't move. It always amazed Gibbs how quickly Tony slipped into little kid mode when he was exhausted, especially when he was also in trouble. And since Tony hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours, his imitation of a stubborn little boy was spot on.

Deciding they would be there all night otherwise, Gibbs took a hold of Tony's arm and pulled him off the bed, and turned him around. "Pants down," he ordered. Instead of obeying, Tony turned around to face him. In one swift motion, Gibbs turned him around again, pulled down his pants and boxers and bent him over the bed with his arm pinned behind him. "You know it will always be worse if you fight me," he growled.

Before he brought the spoon down he glanced at Tony's backside. As expected there was a small bruise on his left cheek. He silently yelled at himself again and then delivered a long, stinging spanking, being careful not to hit the bruised area.

Tony could not believe how much the spoon hurt, but unlike the paddle earlier, it was a superficial pain. It stung and it burned, and it brought tears to his eyes quickly. But there wasn't the deeper ache that the paddle always produced. And it went on forever. For a while, Tony struggled against the strong arm holding him in place, but after a while, exhaustion and resignation took over and he dropped his chest to the bed, burying his face in his free arm.

It was exactly the reaction Gibbs had been waiting for. The wooden spoon continued on its mission a little longer before Gibbs decided Tony had had enough. He placed the spoon on the dresser behind him and released Tony's arm, leaving his own hand resting gently on his back.

"I'm sorry," Tony cried into the bedspread. "I'm sorry."

"I know…it's ok…shhh…" Gibbs whispered as he gently squeezed Tony's shoulder.

After a few minutes, Gibbs stepped away and allowed Tony to stand up and pull his pants up. To his surprise, Tony sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. Gibbs sat down next to him and put his hand back on his back, rubbing it gently as Tony dissolved into sobs again. Gibbs looked at him in alarm. He'd never reacted this way to a spanking before. And this was by no means the worst he'd ever given him.

"Tony?" he ventured, unsure of what he should do. "What is it?" Tony shook his head as he tried to calm himself down. A few minutes later, Gibbs tried again. "What's wrong?"

Tony took a shaky breath and sat up. "I'm just tired," he said. He stood up and turned away. "I want to go to bed."

"Ok," Gibbs said, still very concerned. He stood up and walked to the door. "Good night, Tony." He closed the door, went downstairs, dropped himself onto the couch and leaned back, looking at the ceiling. What was that all about? Lost in his thoughts, the next thing he knew, he was waking up. His neck was stiff and sore. It took him a few seconds to figure out why he was on the couch, but then it all came back to him.

He slowly climbed the steps, stopping outside the guest room door. Very quietly, he turned the knob and pushed it open. Tony was curled up on his side with his back to the door, fast asleep. Tiptoeing into the room, Gibbs settled gently on the bed and looked at Tony in the dim light from the window. Tony stirred, opened his eyes and rolled over onto his back, squinting up at Gibbs.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 2."

Tony closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Gibbs asked.

"I disappointed you," he said sleepily. "I disappointed myself."

Gibbs smiled slightly. Now it made sense. He put his hand gently on the side of Tony's head. "Go back to sleep," he whispered. Tony nodded and rolled over on his side again. Gibbs stayed for just a moment listening to Tony breathe before he got up and went to bed.

* * * * *

Tony opened his eyes and looked around the room as he got his bearings. He rolled over and checked the clock. 10:30! He panicked and sat up quickly. A note on the table next to the bed caught his eye.

Tony,

I let you sleep as long as you needed to. Give me a call when you get up so I know you're still alive. This should keep you busy until I get home tonight:

Tony skimmed the list of chores Gibbs had left for him and grinned. It was a nice mixture of physical labor (mow the lawn), tedious tasks that were obviously punishment (clean the grout in the shower) and an essay outlining all the ways he had helped solve the two cases he had felt so sure he'd failed at, among other things.

But it was the bottom of the page that caught his eye and made him smile.

P.S. Rule #18