"Tell me, Tony. What was the first dumbest thing you ever did?"

Gibbs knew he was being wrong-headed, even a bit unethical, but that had never stopped him before, and he had to know. What if his second, and the closest thing he'd more than likely ever hope to have as a son, thought his first dumbest thing he'd ever done was to follow Gibbs home from Baltimore while in the throes of shock and pain over finding out his best partner was on the take? Maybe Tony had regretted it immediately, once he found what his lot was going to be with such a surly boss, but felt stuck now that he'd burned yet another bridge and worked so hard to complete his FLETC training.

And now DiNozzo was under the influence again, spaced out just a tiny bit on a pain killer Ducky had recommended and swore wouldn't have an adverse affect on the younger agent. Gibbs had brought him to his place and parked him on the couch, plying him with hot herbal tea and some stale cookies, hoping to lull him to sleep. DiNozzo was sporting a black eye and split lip, both swollen and closed with stitches, along with a broken wrist plastered in brilliant blue. All courtesy of an irate husband, but in all fairness, a husband who was a suspect and met Tony at the door with a copper skillet.

"Like in a movie, Boss." Tony told him for what Gibbs thought might be the twentieth time. "Open the door and BAM! , a Three Stooges moment er somethin'.." The last reference had been a Hope and Crosby Road picture, and before that, the Pink Panther's 'Shot in the Dark'. Only it was a lot funnier in the movies, Gibbs wanted to scream at him, but didn't. He just held the icepack to DiNozzo's cheek and smiled benignly.

"Yeah, Tony, like a movie. And you didn't answer my question. What was the first dumbest thing you ever did?"

"Wha - what makes you ask that, Boss? Is this a truth 'er dare thing, cause I didn't think we were havin' a slumber party..."

"Last week, when you and Ziva were drivin' that car at the airport, you know, the one with the -"

"Oh yeah! Yeah yeah yeah, Bernie! I said I did somethin' dumb?"

"You said drivin' that car from the floor was the second dumbest thing you'd ever done. So what was the first?"

DiNozzo's face went suddenly blank, and anyone else would have thought he was trying to remember something, but Gibbs knew it was just the opposite. His SFA was trying to forget. Now he wished he'd never asked. He could tell by the new pasty shade of Tony's face that it was bad, even worse than getting saddled with a bastard of a boss.

"It's okay, Tony." he back-peddled. "Not important, here, drink your tea before it gets cold, I put some honey in it for ya."

But DiNozzo seemed to not even hear him, staring off into the dining room, or maybe into another dimension.

"I was home from boarding school. Easter break." Tony started talking, still not looking at Gibbs. "He'd been drinking. Lots. I think I was...nine, maybe ten..we were in the library and...he wanted another Scotch..told me to get it for 'im. I was thinking maybe...now, that it'd been a year er two er whatever...that 'e wouldn't be doin' that anymore...thought maybe we could...have one holiday where we..didn't scream at each other, where 'e..didden get plastered and...tell me what 'e really thought of me, tell me I was a...anyways, he asked me to get 'im another Scotch, an' it was like his...fourth er fifth one an'...I jus' said, 'No. I'm not gittin' it for ya, Dad.'

"And what'd he say to ya, Tony?" Gibbs asked quietly, almost reverently, knowing he was hearing a revelation from his agent that had probably never gone past DiNozzo's lips.

"Didden say...anything, jus'...backhanded me so hard I...flew back into the bookcase an'...cracked my head open on one a' the shelves...saw double fer two days...one a' the housekeepers found me an'...took me to the e.r. Got..lessee, five - six stitches? Never said no to 'im agin till...I was big enough ta smack 'im back. Then I didden care anymore...I went off to college, an' he went off to...where ever it was 'e went off to to find his wives...he doesn't drink as much anymore, but...he made up for it back then. Like it was gonna bring 'er back, er...make her go away...couldn't jus - deal with it and move on.."

"Not as easy as ya think, DiNozzo." and as soon as the chide was out of his mouth, Gibbs knew he had stuck his foot in it for the second time that afternoon.

"Hmmm..." was all DiNozzo had to say, his face going blank again and his eyes glinting like polished emeralds. As if it had been easy for him, for an eight year old, to lose his beloved mother, no matter how oddly she had dressed him or behaved at times. She was his mommy for God sakes, and he was a little boy, and he'd missed her,craved to have her back again in the most desperate of ways.

And instead he had gotten a raving drunk for a father in her place. And somehow that was okay with adults, even now, that his father was excused his unforgivable actions because he had lost his wife. It had never made sense to Tony, it still didn't, to hear people make excuses for his father, to enable that sort of behavior - the poor widower, left to cope with a young and precocious son. And now Gibbs was joining the chorus.

"Didn't mean it like that, Tony. Just meant that...grief does strange things to people, makes them do things they..." Gibbs let the sentence trail off to nowhere. After all, he really didn't know what he was saying anymore, this one question snowballing into something way more serious than he could have ever imagined. He had expected some idiot story from DiNozzo, like, 'I was in college and jumped off the student union into a pool filled with jello', or 'I was working in Peoria and chased a suspect through a formal church wedding' sort of thing. Not, 'I told my father 'no' and he knocked me into outer space.'

"Ya know what, I'm talkin' outta my ass, Tony. There was no excuse for your father to behave that way, you were grieving too, and managed to get through it without gettin' drunk all the time. Least I hope ya didn't."

DiNozzo at least snorted a little at the last statement, but his face was still cold and emotionless, with none of the animation the pain reliever had brought on only minutes ago.

"Wasn't anybody there fer me, Boss, like it only mattered that she was his wife an'...not my mom. She...she had her share of problems, but...when she was there, when she wasn't in her other place, she...was wonderful.
She jus'..got so she was gone more and more, to her other place...I think she...knew my dad was...not bein' faithful, an'...she never expected that from him, thought it was...a forever kinda thing...doesn' matter now, it's long gone in the past...no changin' it...but tha' doesn't make it okay, ya know? Tha' doesn' make 'im any less wrong 'er, any less of a jerk..."

"No, Anthony, it doesn't." Gibbs concurred with conviction. "I... I'm sorry I asked you, now, Tony. Thought maybe you were regretting following me home from Baltimore and that was your first dumbest thing you'd ever done.

"Honestly, Boss, there've been times...but I wouldn't do anything differently than what I did back then...been the best boss I've ever had."

"Hell, Tony, that's not saying a whole lot..."

"Nah..there's a lot more ta bein' a boss than...givin' orders and tryin' not ta step on toes...ya gave me some purpose an' direction...an'...you know...other stuff." He sighed tiredly, and nestled back down into the couch cushions. "My face hurts, I think I'm gonna jus'...close my eyes.. er, eye...an'...rest fer a bit.."

"You do that, DiNozzo, I'll make some soup for dinner, unless ya wanna tangle with pizza with that lip."

"Nah, soup is good, Boss. Ya know, maybe stickin' myself through that doorway was the second dumbest thing I've ever done.."

"Well, I doubt it'll be the last, so make a list..."

Tony smiled a little, the stitches pulling and making him wince.

"Long list already, Boss. Don't regret any of them..except maybe opening that SWAK envelope...an' gettin' dragged away into the sewer, an'..."

"Zip it, DiNozzo. I'll let ya know when dinner's ready."

"Zippin' it, Boss. Can ya make toasted cheese along with the soup?"

"I'll see if I've got some that's not blue."

Gibbs grabbed the ancient afghan off the back of the sofa and draped it casually over his second, earning another crooked smile.

"Thanks, Boss...an' doan tell anyone what I tol' ya, jist between me an' you..."

"Yeah, Tony, I won't tell anyone." he assured the younger man as he left the room. "Just gonna hunt the bastard down and knock him around a little in the ring..." he muttered under his breath.

"You say somethin', Boss?"

"Nope! Go ta sleep, Anthony. I'll wake ya for dinner."

"Okay..." Tony rolled onto his side and took a deep breath into the pillow. "Like this couch, Boss. Ugly as sin, but...comfy..an' smells like you. An' home. Not like my old home, but, you know..home."

"Yeah, Tony. I know."

Gibbs finished his trip to the kitchen, and quietly went about emptying some cans of soup into a pan on the stove and searching hopefully for some non-mouldy cheese. It was difficult not to slam things around in the frame of mind he was in, but he couldn't wake his second, or let him know how his childhood revelation had affected him. Instead he decided to concentrate on Tony's last revelation to him - that his couch smelled like Gibbs, and that made it smell like home. Maybe he couldn't have been there for his SFA in his younger years, but he was here for him now, and he was beginning to realize he was actually making some sort of difference in the young man's life, which kind of stunned him into silence all on its own. There was no way to undo what had happened to the younger man, any more than DiNozzo could change what had happened to Gibb's beloved first wife and daughter. But perhaps they could soften each other's harsh edges their painful histories had left them with.