"…In a hundred and forty year-old cast iron sarcophagus."

Gibbs paused. That was different.

"Dressed as a Union soldier?"

McGee nodded, "Basically, yes."

Hmm…well, he hated to ask it, knowing that Tony's relationship with his father was far from pleasant, but he would be at a significant advantage for this case because of it.

Not to mention, the kid obviously needed a wake-up call if he was still trying to impress Ziva.

His guilt disappeared pretty quickly after that thought.

He threw the keys to his previously-newest agent. "Gas the truck, McGee."

The young agent nodded dutifully, "Yes, Boss."

Gibbs grit his teeth and didn't hesitate. "DiNozzo!"

Tony, who had been standing by the window looking something over, wheeled around immediately, "Yeah Boss!"

Gibbs phrased his words carefully, not wanting to surprise Tony too much. "Got a murder in your area of expertise."

Tony, oddly enough, did not look surprised, or even moderately confused. He instead adopted a look of expectancy that Gibbs had seen him wear around him only once or twice. The last of which being the day he told that punk who had been a suspect in the bulldog case that he was a Mormon.

And to make Tony's behavior even stranger, he did not turn to Gibbs, but to Ziva.

"This happens a lot, me being a Senior Field Agent," Tony bragged.

"I'm sure it does," Ziva replied evenly. So she was still trying to make friends. Gibbs wondered how long that would last.

Gibbs also wondered how long Ziva would be a distraction to Tony. And how long he would feel intimidated by her. Probably a while, if history had anything to say. Tony had taken an exceptionally long time to get over Agent Cassidy, who was the only other woman Gibbs could remember him needing to impress so much.

But Ziva was not Agent Cassidy, and so long as she was on this team, Tony would need to work with her. And work with her well. So there was no harm in popping his ego a little bit.

Tony turned to him, finally. "So what do we got, Boss? Homicide?"

"No."

Tony's smile faltered a little, "Gang-related?"

Gibbs stood. "No."

Tony was as close to frowning as Tony ever came. "Defenestration?"

How, exactly, was that an area of expertise? Then again, Tony would probably be exceptionally good at it if the situation ever required it. "No." Maybe he should have phrased this differently, considering the volatile relationship Tony had with his father. "Civil War."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment, and Gibbs could see him visibly restrain himself from glaring. Yeah, he probably should have phrased that better.

"I can hardly wait," Gibbs could tell Tony was having trouble retaining his lighthearted mood. "It's my favorite subject," He choked out.

"You really think that the FBI would arrest a man, and leave his kid in a park, DiNozzo?" He turned toward his agent, honestly curious as to why Tony would even suggest it.

The man didn't even look perturbed by the prospect. "Maybe the commander took a walk." Tony's eyes, while still sharp, seemed to lose focus. "My father left me in the Maui Hilton once for two days. Didn't even realize I was missing until he got the room service bill."

Gibbs had heard that story before, but was surprised that Tony was reiterating it so publicly. Ziva and McGee were literally right behind them, and he knew that Ziva was listening.

Except last time he heard it, Tony had barely been able to talk about it. Now, he was throwing it out for everyone to hear.

It was a good thing, Gibbs decided.

If Tony could speak about things like this…if he was starting to trust the team more…then he really was healing.

Gibbs smiled at the prospect.

"Sad." Ziva proclaimed, "But enlightening."

Gibbs wanted to smile again.

He knew that Ziva wasn't referring to his more…annoying tendencies. Ziva was a spy, trained to collect information. She was also trained to read people like a book. It was probably why she intimidated Tony so much. She was one of the only people who had the ability to see through all of his crap to the real DiNozzo. That was also the reason Tony had been so irritated when McGee had given Ziva his life story. But that Ziva actually considered such information to be enlightening…It meant she was actually seeing 'the real Tony,' which was odd, considering he himself had once been the only person able to do so.

McGee, now that he thought about it, seemed to understand Tony pretty well too. For all the crap that Tony put the poor man through, it was amazing that Tim had stayed. Luckily, McGee had seemed to realize that Tony was simply trying to see if he could hack it by being as annoying as possible.

Looking back though, between him scaring the living daylight out of the man every time he spoke (though that had at least gone away somewhat since McGee had grown used to it), and Tony's pranks, it was a wonder that the poor man hadn't had a nervous breakdown. No wonder he gravitated toward the girls so much. Kate and Abby, at least, hadn't hazed him in quite the same way.

And Kate, much as he missed her, and much as he would never really be able to find fault with her, had had a very difficult time reading Tony. He remembered being disappointed that she couldn't see past the masks he threw up so much. It wasn't until the end, when Tony had the freaking plague, that she had started to see his true character.

Ziva, it would seem, did not have the same problem.

Maybe this whole liaison thing would work out after all.

"…and don't worry, Tony, the chances of even one of your teeth matching are, like, 100,000 to one."

Tony looked far more relaxed at that statement, not that he had been particularly worried before. Gibbs thought it a good indication for his innocence that he wasn't nervous even when he turned out to be the number one suspect in the case.

Not that he had ever really suspected Tony. There was no doubt in his mind that Tony was innocent.

Time to put this stupid theory out to pasture.

"Do it, Abby."

The forensic scientist nodded and went to work. Soon, Gibbs saw each one of Tony's digital teeth line up with the bite mark on the victim's leg.

Wait…what?

Because there was no way Tony did this. Easily sidetracked and sometimes annoyingly energetic, yes. A killer? Not a chance. Gibbs would know. He would feel it in his gut. And if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Tony was, at the root of it all, a good man. Once, he had even thought he would make a good marine. That was about the highest honor Gibbs could grant anyone.

And the look on Tony's face-confusion, disbelief, sudden concern-only made him more certain.

And more afraid.

Thinking about it, there were a lot of people that Tony could have out to get him.

He had been a cop for six years before NCIS. Professionally, every successful case Tony had was a potential opening for an enemy. And that wasn't even accounting for his personal life.

If DiNozzo really called women baggy bunnies, then this list was probably about two miles long.

"They're right, DiNozzo. Ten years, four different forces."

Tony frowned, "But that's a lot of names and people to remember, Boss."

Gibbs ignored him, "Ziva, take the women. McGee, you take the men. I'll pull case files of the ones DiNozzo put away who are on the list." His team scattered as they received their assignments, and he bent over Tony's half-completed list.

"But wait a minute, you never do anything," Tony whined, sounding half surprised, half confused. Gibbs head-slapped him out of reflex, "Because you're…such a good delegator." Knew there was a reason he kept the guy around. Did Tony really think it so surprising that he would be personally invested in his case? In his protection?

Apparently so.

That bothered him.

Just then, the elevator dinged, and Fornell stepped out.

"Uh-oh," Abby said.

He understood. Really, he did. Fornell had a job to do, and the case needed to be solved.

It didn't make it any easier.

Thank God that he had managed to make sure Fornell was the one who received the case. Otherwise he wasn't sure he could just hand DiNozzo over like this.

"Tony," He started, "Fornell is going to question you."

Tony started to stand. "You mean interrogate me." Tony's voice had a hard edge to it that was unusual for him.

"Question," he corrected, then because he knew that Tony would be needing a little direction right about now, he whispered, "Draw it out."

Tony stood back and gave the lightest of nods.

And as he walked away, Gibbs made sure to return it.

In another life, Tony would have made an excellent lawyer.

That's what Gibbs decided to take away from this particular incident. That, and Tony did not do well with stress.

His display at the prison was…disturbing.

Not to mention…if he hated sailors so much thanks to his mother, why the hell had he joined NCIS?

Yeah, Gibbs was starting to realize that Tony's 'deep-seeded psychological issues' were a lot deeper than he had previously thought. Openly announcing neglect at crime scenes was just the tip of the iceberg.

But after a while, his agent seemed to calm down some. "I'm not getting out of this one, am I boss?"

Tony sounded so…dejected. So unlike himself. Gibbs did the only thing he knew would snap him out of it.

He didn't say anything, just raised his finger and signaled for Tony to come over to him.

His agent complied, eyes still slightly crazed from his outburst.

Gibbs head-slapped him.

Tony saw it coming. He knew that his agent had. But he stood there and took it, just like Gibbs knew he would.

"Thank you, Boss." Tony whispered. Gibbs smiled. For whatever reason, Tony had come to take the oft-come head-slaps to mean that Gibbs was still willing to keep him around. Still willing to work on his very, very deep issues.

Gibbs nodded, and tapped Tony's chin before leaving.

He had to get DiNozzo out of there. Man really would go crazy in prison.

"I don't suppose you want this?" DiNozzo flipped the case open to reveal his newly awarded medal.

He glanced at it, not overly impressed. It was a hunk of metal. What, was it supposed to remind him of his past actions when he was old and gray?

Picturing DiNozzo's reaction to that particular statement, he told his mental version of DiNozzo to shut the hell up.

But as he thought about it…how did DiNozzo end up with the medal anyways? It almost would have made more sense for Ducky to collect it for him, or better yet, for Jen to hold it for him.

But considering that DiNozzo had it…Tony must have collected it at the conference. He had probably made his way up to the platform from the very back of the room (which was probably intentional. Tony did have a tendency toward overtly dramatic gestures) and accepting the award for him. He was sure that Tony had done it in typical DiNozzo fashion-kid had probably had a speech prepared or something-and, ironically, no one else would have thought it odd. At all.

Which meant that everyone would be under the impression that he and Tony were somehow closer than he and his other subordinates.

It made sense in some ways. Tony was his SFA. He had been on 'Team Gibbs' (or so Abby had dubbed them) longer than anyone else to date-he had actually just passed the five year mark, beating Stan by a few months now. And unlike Stan, Tony showed no signs of growing tired of Gibbs at this point. In fact, Tony steadily seemed more and more at home here. More comfortable. He had even started to wear more casual clothes to work again, something he hadn't done since Kate's death.

It meant the kid was healing.

Gibbs looked back at the medal he was supposed to want. He didn't see the point.

Something in his gaze must have told Tony as much, because he nodded and said, "I'll get rid of it."

Gibbs smiled a little, glad that Tony's strange ability to understand exactly what he was saying without needing words was still functioning after the stress of the last few weeks. Last few months, really. He wondered, not for the first time, where that came from-Tony's Gibbs ESPN, that is. No one, not even his oldest friend, Ducky, or his mentor, Mike Franks, read him quite so clearly as Tony did.

He decided it didn't matter a whole lot.

"Go home DiNozzo. It's late. Get some sleep."

Tony nodded and spread his palms out on his armrests. "Yeah, I'm just finishing up a couple things."

Gibbs looked at him for another second. That sounded…evasive, somehow. If he found out later that Tony had pulled an unnecessary all-nighter again, he was going to head-slap the agent into next week.

But he did trust Tony to take care of himself, at least a little, so Gibbs didn't push it. "Your flowers are dead."

Tony grimaced and nodded, and Gibbs suddenly had a mental image of Abby gifting Tony with the flower bouquet. No wonder DiNozzo had kept it. He couldn't deny Abby anything.

He didn't say anything more, simply walked away. But before he got onto the elevator he glanced back at his subordinate just in time to see him drop the gray box into his desk drawer. And was that…a key? Had DiNozzo just locked his medal in his desk safe?

He was…surprised to say the least. Those safes were meant to hold their firearms while at the office. No one on his team actually used them to that purpose, as their side arms were always on them. McGee put his wallet inside, Ziva put extra ammo and weaponry in hers, and until today, Gibbs had thought Tony did the same.

That DiNozzo would think to keep something that was so meaningless to Gibbs in a safe was…surprising. And odd. It also made him wonder where his other medals were, and then he realized that he was probably looking the answer in the face.

He wondered why.

Maybe…maybe it was because…in their own way…the medals were memories. Blown out of proportion, maybe. What he considered undeserved praise, yes. But they were memories. Solid, visual reminders of memories. And DiNozzo was all about the visual stuff.

But there was almost more to it than that.

It was like…DiNozzo was saving his memories for him.

Nah.

He ignored the feeling in his gut that said his hunch was correct, and that he might need something to remind him one day.

And he didn't even acknowledge the feeling that maybe DiNozzo's gut was telling him the same.

"Boss that's the wrong direction according to the GPS fix." McGee warned.

Gibbs shook his head, "Not according to DiNozzo, he said follow the money."

And he'd trust Tony over technology any day.

McGee didn't look pacified, but he didn't argue either.

Gibbs didn't care either way.

He was going to die.

It was not, by any means, a new revelation. He had contemplated his own death many times before, and usually with about this level of calm. So what if he died? He wasn't going to leave anybody behind, and someone had to make sure their captive actually diffused the bomb, as she said she would.

But looking over his shoulder, he saw Tony and Ziva still standing there.

And they didn't seem too intent on moving, which meant that they were going to die too.

Well that was just unacceptable.

"Get a clear distance away from here," Gibbs ordered.

Tony looked like he had to refrain from scoffing. "I don't care how hard you whack me, Boss. I'm not going anywhere."

Ziva, obviously feeling braver due to Tony's statement, piped in too. "Nor am I."

Gibbs nearly growled in frustration. Of all the times to prove their loyalty, Tony and Ziva chose now? When they're all about to die? What was dying with him supposed to prove?

Then he thought about that statement a little more and felt somewhat ashamed of himself.

Tony had never had anything stable. Not once in his entire life. The longest he'd held onto one place before his job at NCIS was college, and Gibbs had a feeling he'd only made it because there were those oh-so-distracting frat parties every weekend that took his mind off of it. Tony wasn't used to stable. But now that he had it, Gibbs realized that he had latched onto it with all he had.

And apparently, Gibbs was a big enough part in his life now that Tony was willing to die for him.

Not that this loyalty surprised Gibbs very much. He had known from the very beginning that Tony was, inexplicably loyal to those who earned it.

Ziva, though she had different reasons for needing the NCIS lifestyle, also valued loyalty. She shot her brother for not having it, after all. And on this particular matter, she seemed to be emulating Tony.

It…awed him…somewhat, that there were people willing to lay down their lives for him.

Funny that the very quality that had caught his eye in the first place might very well get Tony and his partner killed.

So there was only one real response in this situation.

"If we survive this, you're both fired."

As he watched the poor, broken family leave, Gibbs realized that there was only one more thing that could be done that day.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was about to say.

"Tony…Ziva…what happened back there with the bomb, I want you both to know-"

"You don't have to say it, Boss," Tony interrupted, "We know how you feel about us." The man said confidently, and for once with an air of seriousness that he rarely held. Gibbs gave him something of an incredulous look. DiNozzo might know, due to his strange, uncannily perceptive insight into what Gibbs was thinking at all times, but he seriously doubted that the rest of the team did.

"Gibbs we're a team," Ziva added, "It's what we do."

Gibbs looked between his two subordinates incredulously. Once upon a time, no one had been able to tell what he was thinking. Now he had not only Tony doing it, but Ziva as well (though he suspected that Ziva did so more through reading what Tony was thinking).

He wasn't entirely sure he liked it.

But there was no going back now.

He liked his team. He liked the dynamic that they all shared. And he liked how well they worked together. Even if it wasn't permanent (Ziva was a liaison officer, after all. She would go back to Mossad one day), he liked that there was…something more to this team.

Damn it. He was becoming sentimental. Maybe DiNozzo was right about him getting old.

But above all…he felt…touched. In a way he hadn't really felt since Shannon and Kelly…like…family…

He shook himself. More like touched in the head.

Even so, his team currently felt more like family than subordinates. It was strange and…good at the same time. But that only made him want to protect them more.

So there was really only one response to this whole ordeal. One that would (hopefully) prevent the future endangerment of his team.

"I was going to say, If either one of you two wing-nuts ever disobey a direct order again I'll kill you myself."

He walked away, and didn't have to look back to know that Ziva and McGee currently wore utterly baffled expressions, and Tony was grinning like a madman.

His suspicions were only confirmed when he heard Tony laughing lightly behind him. And he really wasn't surprised when Tony said, "That's our boss."

Uncanny insight indeed.

He raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of Tony's favored reading material. That definitely wasn't pertinent to the case.

Tony jumped up when he heard Gibbs's voice. "Hey Boss, I was just about to call you."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Of course he was. That's why he was reading GSM. Again. "What a coincidence. I'm just about to put my boot up your-"

Tony cut him off. Which was annoying, but Tony almost always had a good reason for it. "Got a lead. Found an electric bill in one of the boxes. An industrial space in Anacostia three miles from the strip club where the Mercedes was stolen."

Gibbs looked over the paper his agent had just handed him, and had the sinking feeling that he wouldn't have noticed this if he had been the one looking. Not that this was surprising. Tony was almost unnaturally observant, which caused intense curiosity, which led to one of the best investigative minds Gibbs had ever worked with. But why did Tony feel the need to act so…silly and stupid all the time? Earlier today he had been competing with McGee over credit. Tony was good at this job. Why didn't he show that all of the time if he wanted recognition?

Gibbs frowned as he thought of that. Now that he thought about it, Tony had been acting far less juvenile lately. Not that he wasn't childish or anything (Hadn't he just stated that he was still competing with McGee over credit?). But it was just…mellower. And it seemed forced. The last six months had been hard. Ziva was still adjusting to America, and was dealing (though probably not very healthily) with Ari's death and her part in it. The rest of them were still struggling with Kate's death, and all of the consequences that had resulted from it. Tony had still been in rehab for four months, and Gibbs was trying to make sure his agents didn't get thrown in jail. Not to mention the multiple close calls they had all experienced. It was quite possible that Tony was hurting more than he let on.

But that would have to wait for now. He had a body to find, and some weird voodoo guy to track down.

"Ziva," Gibbs barked, "McGee. Go check it out."

The two junior agents scrambled up from their heaps of paper to get to the elevator.

Tony, on the other hand, walked over to his desk, looking a little unsure of what he was supposed to be doing now. True to form, Tony seemed to take Gibbs's last orders into consideration and reached for the boxes again.

Gibbs frowned. Ziva was right. That lawyer lady (rule #13, never, ever involve lawyers) had probably already cleared out any useful information concerning this case, even after telling her some of what was going on. They had been lucky Tony was so observant, or they wouldn't have caught the lead. But he seriously doubted that they would be able to find anything else. Plus, having Tony sit around the office with nothing to do was bound to get on his nerves in about two seconds.

And the other reason…Tony was more like Gibbs than he would ever, ever admit. And if Tony really was trying to keep up the 'good-natured jokester' act, then that would be easier to do if his brain was taken up by the case. At least, if you were Tony and put almost zero effort into a persona, it was. And the best way to do that was to make Tony get into the field.

Resigning himself to attempting to figure out the agent later, Gibbs called for him.

"Tony," The man in question looked up, a smile forming on his lips, and Gibbs realized that the man already knew what Gibbs was going to tell him to do. "Go on," he sighed, pretending to be slightly exasperated, "supervise."

Tony grinned and fled.

He found Tony playing basketball.

In all honesty, he had stopped questioning Tony's methods a long time ago. They were always effective, however odd they seemed.

When Tony fell flat on his back (foul, by the way), Gibbs could see that the younger man had twisted his ankle and he would have winced in sympathy, had he felt the need. He had seen his agent run around full tilt after being shot. Multiple times. He could handle a twisted ankle.

All the same, it was probably best that he stop DiNozzo now, before he got up and tried to play again.

He walked over to his fallen agent and bent down to give the appearance of looming over the man. In actuality, he did this very little, seeing as Tony was taller than him. This provided a nice opportunity.

"Are you having fun, DiNozzo?" He asked sardonically.

"Ah," Tony groaned, "All done interviewing Danforth's CO?"

Gibbs frowned at the deflection. And the level tone that Tony had used when he had been wincing just a moment ago. "You done interviewing his platoon?" he could ignore Tony's ankle as long as it wasn't going to be a problem.

"Nothing builds a report like a good game of ball!" Tony said half cheerfully and half painfully, as he set himself on the task of standing while he spoke.

Well he stood fine. As soon as he tried to take a step though, he yelped in pain and started to fall.

Gibbs caught him before he dropped two inches.

Tony tensed and stood for a moment. Gibbs knew why.

He hated being touched.

It was something that he had discovered early on. Tony didn't like pats on the back, punches to the shoulder. He barely even tolerated it when he passed off reports or paperwork and their fingers touched for an instant. Gibbs had thought it was ironic that this man, who constantly bragged of his sex-life, had such an issue with non-romantic human contact. Gibbs would never call himself a touchy person-he left that job to Abby, thank you-but DiNozzo seemed to have an honest fear of it.

Gibbs let go of his shoulders as soon as the other man was balanced, and grabbed him by the elbow instead.

Tony did tolerate human contact-but only from people he trusted implicitly, or when he had no other choice. Gibbs decided not to ruminate too much on which situation was proving itself true at the moment.

When they got to the picnic bench, Gibbs let Tony sit and the man complied. As soon as a man came forward to wrap Tony's ankle, the SFA started giving him the SITREP. Gibbs paced in the background in order to burn a little energy.

The info was, as always, ridiculously detailed. Gibbs really wanted to know how Tony could get such great information while seemingly goofing off. It really was an incredible contradiction.

He also wanted to know exactly how bad Tony's ankle was.

Earlier it really hadn't seemed to bother him so much. Now he was wincing every five seconds and yelping like a drowned cat. Which meant earlier it had hurt like an SOB and now it wasn't bothering him so much.

Finally, the medic was finished, as well as the debriefing. "Put an icepack on that," The slightly disgruntled medic ordered, "Fifteen on-"

"Fifteen off. I know the drill." Snapped DiNozzo. He always did get a bit rude around anyone connected to the medical field. All except Ducky, anyway.

"Oh, it's real swollen, I don't think I'm going to be able to walk on this thing Boss-"

Deciding that this really was a cry for attention, Gibbs yanked him to his feet before letting go.

DiNozzo simply switched gears. "Ha! Look at that!" realizing that Tony was a little bit injured after all, and that no, he would not let him fall on his face, Gibbs threw one of his agents arms over his head. "Look, it's a miracle." He said somewhat guiltily. Gibbs was just glad he wasn't complaining about being touched again. He was lucky the first time, but now Tony seemed to have expected it. He didn't tense up at all and actually leaned into him a little.

Gibbs knew the amount of trust Tony had to have in a person before he let them in like that.

"Yeah," he said, mostly to ward off the emotion, but he also wanted Tony to realize that that trust was returned, at least a little. "Loyal as a St. Bernard."

Tony returned the "yeah," sentiment, looking briefly uncomfortable before his face relaxed. "Always wanted to get one of those till I found out they didn't come with that barrel of whiskey around their neck."

Gibbs smiled a little, translating the brief conversation in his head.

I trust you, you know.

Same to you.

Cody walked over to the window again.

It wasn't that he had some ridiculously rosy view of the world. Gibbs actually wasn't sure if they could get Cody out of the classroom with the other kids. But something wasn't right here. This kid…he only seemed to be getting more and more agitated, which shouldn't happen once he had control over the situation. Which he did. With the bomb.

So why was Gibbs so positive that Cody couldn't die?

He wasn't sure. It was a gut thing.

Cody flipped the blinds open, a perfectly decent amount of space for any sniper to get a bullet through. Gibbs froze.

At this moment, Tony was being told that there was a clear shot. That he could end this…

Gibbs wasn't entirely sure what he would do.

Tony had great instincts. It was one of the things that had drawn Gibbs toward him in the first place. But he wasn't used to relying solely on them. Tony was much more inclined toward following the rules, except when it went against his morals. And this situation was nothing new to Tony. History stated that Tony would do it, if deemed necessary.

But then again, if Tony's gut wasn't screaming right now, then Gibbs would eat his badge.

Fifteen seconds.

Come on…don't do it…

Thirty seconds.

Cody backed away from the window and moved on.

Gibbs stifled a sigh of relief.

Good work, Tony.

"DiNozzo! Where the hell have you been?"

There wasn't any real malice in the words, or even any kind of warning. Tony seemed to realize it too.

DiNozzo had been doing this a lot lately. He would go off tracking down his own leads, then when he finally showed up, he blew the case wide open. But he wouldn't tell anyone when he left, or where he was going. He'd just be gone, and would show up some time later. It was getting to be a little bit annoying. Then again, this was DiNozzo, and not a junior agent, so Gibbs would see what he had to say before getting angry about it.

At the moment, Tony seemed both relaxed and confident-good signs. It meant that he found something.

"I come bearing gifts!" Tony proclaimed, Three white boxes in his hands, "Spent the night at Rock Creek Park, and I found these when they drained the pond." He opened up the boxes after setting them on his superior's desk.

Ziva expressed her appreciation for them, especially the last one "Whoa! That's a big one…"

Gibbs glanced at the guns, but was more interested in Tony's process. Part of the reason he had hired Tony was his refusal to be intimidated, and his independence. Lately, both of those traits had been making an appearance more often than usual. He glanced at the man, who was still standing proudly in front of his desk.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and walked around the side of the desk. "Are you expecting an 'Atta boy'?"

Tony pouted. "Well it would be nice…"

The guy had just spent an entire night in a cold park, waiting to retrieve the probable murder weapons. Asking his boss to say 'good job' probably wasn't too much to ask.

Gibbs brought his hand up to Tony's head. The man flinched on reflex, long used to Gibbs's head slaps. With a grin, Gibbs started stroking the back of Tony's head instead.

"Atta boy," he drawled. Tony looked moderately confused, and all sorts of uncomfortable.

"I was just doing my job, Boss." He said somewhat warily.

"I know that." Gibbs snapped before walking away. But he didn't get far before he caught the smile on Tony's face. It wasn't his fake, megawatt grin that he used to charm people (mostly women). It was Tony's real smile, which was much softer, and less…shmoozy than his other one.

Gibbs grinned. Tony might be becoming more independent, and more self-sustaining, but the kid would always desire attention.

Then again, maybe it was time he thought about recommending Tony for a Team Leader position. The kid held the record for lasting as Gibbs's agent (five and a half years), plus six years as a cop before that. He himself had had less experience when he became team leader.

Gibbs grinned even wider as he realized how frustrating it would be to have Tony as a team leader. He would disappear all the time, not telling his team where he was going, and the poor subordinates would have an endless stream of movie references that wouldn't be cut off by any merciful superior. Those poor agents wouldn't know what hit them.

He was also pretty sure that DiNozzo's solve rate would be about as high as his own.

One thing was for sure. Tony was quickly becoming more of an equal to Gibbs than a subordinate.

And…he was glad for it.

He was done.

There wasn't much more of this he could take. The constant anger, the guilt…he couldn't handle it. Not anymore. Maybe that other version of him could, but that other version of him knew what it meant to be an NCIS agent, knew fifteen more years of pain, of sacrifice…he didn't. And he couldn't do this.

Besides, Franks had obviously helped him pick up and continue with life after the last time. Who's to say he couldn't now?

He went to his desk, acutely aware of the Director watching from the staircase. Like she was silently begging him to reconsider.

As far as he was concerned, there was nothing else to consider.

He opened the drawer that he sort of remembered putting his gun in, only to find it empty.

He felt Tony's eyes snap onto him, and the younger man stood.

"Oh, uh…I got it Boss." He held up his gun and badge so Gibbs could see. He stared. "I got it from the medics when…" The younger man trailed off, seeming to realize that Gibbs didn't need any specifics from the incident.

He reached out and took the gun and badge from his SFA's hand. "Appreciate it," he said quietly. Tony didn't walk away, seeming to realize that he had more to say.

There's one word that constantly came to mind when he thought of Tony.

Trust.

He had trusted this man implicitly, as much as he now trusted Franks.

He would do well.

He stepped around the desk, towards the younger man. He just looked at him expectantly, seeming to know that there was something he wanted to say.

This wouldn't be easy. Not for any of them.

But he had no qualms about this.

Tony, from what he had seen, and from what he could remember, was a good agent. He was smart, and well-trained, and at this point, a better investigator than he himself was. Tony would do well, he was sure of it.

"You'll do."

A small light of understanding entered Tony's eyes before shock took over.

He handed the gun and badge over.

They weren't his anymore.

He laid a hand on Tony's shoulder, and made it official. "It's your team now."

And if he was any kind of boss, Tony would know exactly what that meant, and would know exactly how much responsibility it was to be looking after other's lives constantly. He would know. He might make mistakes, but Tony would still know.

Gibbs had a feeling that Tony did know.

Behind the shock that he saw…there was a certain understanding that had nothing to do with the immediate situation. He could see that Tony knew why he had to do this, why he had to leave. Maybe no real agreement was there, but Tony seemed to know why, and that was enough.

All through his goodbyes, he could feel their eyes on his back. Could feel their confusion, their denial. And at the same time, he knew they understood.

And as he left, there was only one thing he could think to say.

"Semper Fi."

If he was any kind of Marine, they would know what that meant too.

Wheww! that was a long one, folks. There was a lot of stuff for Tony and Gibbs's relationship in this season, but most of it happened seperately, and apart from Gibbs, and like I said, I want to try and keep it in Gibbs's point of view. So we missed out on a lot as far as this fic goes.

Tony grows a lot more independent throughought this season. He took over for Gibbs like six times, and that was the reason I included the sceen from Iced. I really wanted to address the changes in Tony, and that was the best time I could think of to do it.

Oh, for those of you who might be wondering, I'm not Kate's biggest fan. In fact, I harbor an intense dislike of her. But I absolutely adore Ziva, and I'm a Tiva fan, so that might show up a little bit in this. But I'll do my best to keep it strictly a Gibbs/Tony friendship/father-son type fic. Cuz they do have a more paternal relationship going there, especially as the series progresses.

And one other thing. In light of knowledge I already had of the series, I noticed a lot of forshadowing that was being used here concerning Gibbs and his memory loss. Not least of which was the moment where Tony stored the medals away (that was utter genius, by the way). I did take a little artistic liberty on that, because obviously in the episode, it's not stated that Gibbs notices Tony saving his medal in his desk. But because he's Gibbs, it stands to reason that he knows anyway.

So here are the episodes (in order).

Silver War

Honor Code

Frame Up

Frame Up

Frame Up

Model Behavior

Boxed In

Light Sleeper

Light Sleeper

Head Case

Family Secrets

Bait

Iced

Hiatus 2