The sleek little convertible pulled up next to the NCIS truck, both overlooking a rocky hill down to a lush green field. There was a path carefully marked down the hill--steep, but doable. Certainly something a trained Marine could handle without a problem. Only one Marine had somehow gone from the top to the bottom without aid of the path. And since Gibbs hadn't learned anything recently about humans suddenly learning to fly, it meant they had a dead Marine and a problem to solve.

He turned to Anna, brushing back a curl from her forehead. "Thanks for the ride." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Anytime." Anna smiled. "Go do your stuff, Jethro. Call me if you need a ride after."

"I will." He smiled and slid out of the car, walking briskly over to the crime scene. Behind him, he heard the purr of the engine as she pulled away.

"What've we got?" he asked, joining his team. Kate was already snapping pictures; Tony was..."And where the hell is DiNozzo?"

"Walking the perimeter." Kate crouched down next to the body, camera clicking. "Ducky's getting the gurney down here."

"Where are the local LEOs?" Gibbs pulled on a pair of gloves and dug his notepad out of his pocket.

She pointed with one hand to a nearby tree. "Over there. They think it looks accidental."

"What do you think?" He crouched down on the other side of the body, studying it carefully.

"If this is accidental I'll eat my badge. You don't get injuries like this unless you're fighting back hard." Kate leaned in to snap more pictures of the scratches and bruises on the victim's hands and arms. "He was trying to defend himself."

"Yeah." Gibbs stood up again and looked at the small group of people standing by the oak tree. "I'll go see what our local friends have for us."

The local police detective was more than happy to hand over the case. "He's one of yours, not one of ours. Although if you ask me--"

"I didn't," Gibbs said shortly. "How many homicides did you work last year?"

The detective blinked. "Three."

"Yeah." Gibbs flipped his notepad closed. "You just came across your fourth."

Detective Whatshisname blinked and looked about to say something, but Gibbs ignored him and turned back, crossing the grass to where Ducky now knelt. "Time of death, Duck?" he asked.

"Ah, Jethro. Lovely morning, isn't it? Not so much for our young friend here, but still." Ducky smiled placidly. "Although from the liver temp and rigor of the body, I'd say he didn't get to enjoy the morning at all. I'd estimate time of death at around ten to twelve hours ago--I can be more specific once I get him home."

"Cause?"

"Blunt force trauma to the back of the head." Ducky tilted the corpse's head gently, pointing out the caved-in skull. "You can move him now."

"I've got an ID," Kate said, picking up his wallet. "Petty Officer Jeremy Carter. Thirty-two. Twenty bucks in his wallet, all credit cards and other stuff still there. Cell phone, too. I'll give it to McGee and see what he can pull from it." She headed off for the truck.

"Where the hell is DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked in exasperation. "Doesn't take *that* long to walk a damn perimeter."

"Sorry, Boss," Tony said, startling him. "I was up there." He pointed to the top of the hill. "Thought I'd see if I could find anything, since there isn't anything around here. No footprints, no evidence, just our dead Marine."

"And?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shrugged. "Found a candy wrapper. And some wood slivers that could be from the trees. But it rained last night, so any footprints got washed away, and there's nothing on the concrete to indicate a struggle. The railing's pretty worn."

"Print it anyway." Gibbs expected some kind of argument or even complaint from Tony--printing the railing was a long, tedious job, after all--but DiNozzo just shrugged again and headed up the path to get what he needed.

By the time Tony finished with the railing along the path, Kate and McGee had gotten some information off Carter's cell phone. "Last phone call he made was last night, around six-thirty," Kate said. "Looks like he was calling his roommate--number's listed in his phone as 'Marc' and his roommate is named Marc Bradford."

"Where's the roommate now?"

"Norfolk. He's on a field training exercise--incommunicado until tonight."

"Make him communicado," Gibbs said brusquely. "Once DiNozzo's done, we can head back."

Tony jogged up the path. "Not too many prints--lot of smudges, but not much else. No blood--I checked every inch of the railing after I printed it. If he hit his head, it wasn't on this thing."

"Didn't think it was," Kate said wryly. "He'd have had to be bent over pretty far."

"Stranger things have happened, Kate." Tony's voice was more clipped than usual and Gibbs noticed that it made her frown. "We ready to go?"

Tony was uncharacteristically silent the entire drive back. "I'll take this stuff down to Abby," he said, getting the evidence bags out of the truck. He was gone before Gibbs even had a chance to say boo.

"What the hell is with him?" Kate asked, looking after him.

"Worry about it later. We've got a job to do." Gibbs pushed his own concern to the back of his mind--if Tony had finally decided to be serious and buckle down, the last thing he was going to do was upset that particular apple cart.

He told himself he didn't miss Tony's cheerful banter or even the sarcastic sniping with Kate that whole afternoon.

"He shouldn't have been anywhere near that park," Kate said, pacing. "His apartment was fifteen miles in the opposite direction."

"He got off at six. Ducky's estimating time of death between nine and ten. What was he doing for those three hours?" Gibbs asked.

"Eating dinner." Tony picked up a piece of paper. "There's a receipt in his wallet for dinner at La Trattoria, which *is* between his place and the park. Time on it was eight thirty-seven."

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Go talk to the manager, show his picture. See if he remembers anything."

"On it." Tony holstered his gun and left.

Kate shook her head. "Something is not right with DiNozzo," she insisted.

"He's doing the job, which is more than I can say for some of you," Gibbs said pointedly. "Where's the roommate or Carter's CO?"

The roommate turned out to be completely out of reach until the next day--he was on some field training exercise and no one knew where he was exactly, nor could they reach the team. Carter's direct CO was on leave in Florida and they couldn't get him back until tomorrow either. And Carter's parents and sister lived in Maine and--like everyone else--were getting in tomorrow. Abby was still working on forensics and had already warned Gibbs that she'd need at least twelve hours to run some of the tests. "I can set them up to run overnight, but I won't have results for you until tomorrow. Not if you want me to be thorough."

"I want answers," Gibbs told her. "How soon for those?"

"Eight hours minimum. Sorry, best I can do." Abby shrugged.

Gibbs nodded. "Thanks."

"Mm-hmm." Abby was already pulling on gloves as he went back upstairs.

Tony was sitting at his desk, quiet and looking like death warmed over. Kate was glancing at him, alternating between worried and upset. Gibbs sighed inwardly. Something was off and he just didn't have the time or the patience to deal with it.

"Manager at the restaurant remembers Carter," Tony said lifelessly. "He came in with a friend, they had dinner, left around quarter to nine. They didn't seem to be arguing. That's all he remembers."

Gibbs looked at the clock; it was just before six. "All right," he said, tossing out his coffee cup. "Let's call it a day. Back here at oh-eight hundred."

Kate grabbed her bag and was gone almost before he was done speaking. Normally he'd have bugged her about that, but his attention was caught by DiNozzo, who was moving almost like he'd aged fifty years overnight. There was nothing of his usual bounce as he picked up his bag and slung it on over his shoulder and the normal grace in his step was just...gone.

"You coming down with something, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, hitting the button for the elevator.

Tony just shrugged. "'M fine," he said dully. "Long day."

It hadn't been a long day, not as their days generally went. Gibbs looked at him critically, wondering what the hell was wrong.

"I'm *fine*, Gibbs," Tony said waspishly, catching his look. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going home now." He brushed past Gibbs on his way to his car, moving angrily. Gibbs almost followed him, but Anna pulled up and he dismissed it.

"Something wrong?" she asked as he got in.

He kissed her on the cheek absently. "I'm not sure."

"Always fun." She smiled and pulled away from the curb, hands relaxed on the wheel. "So where are you taking me for dinner tonight?"

The evening with Anna was fun, as always. They had a companionable dinner, shared tiramisu for dessert, and ended up back at her place. And when it was over, as always, he kissed her goodbye and got dressed.

"One of these nights, Jethro, I'm going to get you to stay with me." She propped herself up on an elbow, yawning. "Would it be the worst thing in the world?"

"Women like to make love in their own beds. Men like to sleep in theirs." He pulled on his shirt and leaned down to kiss her again. "Besides, if you saw me without my coffee in the morning you'd hate me."

"Good point." She stretched and settled back down into the bed. "You want me to pick you up tomorrow night?"

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Don't know when we'll be getting out. With luck we'll crack this thing."

"Okay." Anna smiled and blew him a kiss. "Sleep well, Jethro."

"You too." He left quietly, the door automatically locking behind him.

***
Things weren't any better the next day. Tony had gone from silent to sullen, snapping at anyone dumb enough to cross him. And unfortunately for the office, Kate hadn't read the warning signs. "Someone not getting enough sleep?" she'd asked sweetly. "You might try warm milk. I've heard it works wonders."

"Maybe some of us are somehow *bothered* by the fact that this kid is dead for no good reason," Tony snapped at her. "Didn't figure you for the callous type--have you forgotten Evan Hayes already?"

Kate paled and sucked in a breath, but Gibbs cleared his throat before she could bite back. "Enough!" he barked. "DiNozzo, you are *out* of line. Go talk to Abby and cool off. Kate--drop it."

She shot him one hurt look and slammed her desk drawer shut before turning back to her computer. After a minute, McGee poked his head up from behind his computer, looking like a mouse who'd just caught scent of one giant tomcat. Kate glared at him and he ducked back down instantly, clearly deciding hiding was the better part of valor.

Gibbs wondered what he'd done to deserve a team of cranky adolescents.

Tony's attitude seemed to have affected Abby as well. When Gibbs went down to get her report on the forensics, she was clipped and brusque when she spoke. "Blood's all his. Some skin under his nails, looks discolored. Working on that now, give me another two hours or so. I think it's some kind of ink, but I can't be sure yet. Dirt on the clothes is consistent with where you found him. None of those prints turned up a hint in any database you gave me, and most of them were too smudged even for me to salvage. But no murder weapon, nothing else to go on, that's all I'm going to get for you until you give me something else."

There was no cheerful spiel, no extended story about the technology she'd used or any new program she'd come across to help her. Just the data. "You all right, Abs?" Gibbs asked cautiously. One grumpy team member was enough; two and he was going to need a shot of bourbon to make it through the day.

"I'm fine." She closed a cabinet with a little more care than usual. "Don't you have a case to solve or something?"

"That's my line." He said it lightly, trying to make her smile.

"Sorry." Abby spun on one heel and turned back to her computer. Gibbs watched her for a moment before giving up and going to find Cranky, Grumpy, and Timid.

It was odd; Gibbs had never realized how much Tony's usual cheerful attitude affected the rest of the team until it was gone. He didn't think he could blame everything on DiNozzo, but he didn't believe in coincidence. Question was, why was Tony acting like this?

Gibbs didn't think it was a girlfriend. For one thing, Tony hadn't been bragging about the latest woman in his life for a while. For another, women were like lined-up dominoes where DiNozzo was concerned--they fell for him one after another and Tony was always more than happy to pick them up. And while Gibbs had to admit he saw Tony's appeal, that just wasn't something he let himself think about.

Family, maybe. But Tony was pretty much estranged from his blood relatives. His mother was dead, he'd freely admitted he spoke to his father about once a year, no siblings, and he'd never mentioned any uncles or aunts that Gibbs knew about. Hell, he was listed as Tony's emergency contact.

So what the hell was it?

It was a puzzle he didn't have time to solve at the moment. "Kate, McGee. Go talk to Carter's CO and the roommate--search the apartment. DiNozzo, you're with me. Time to go talk to the family." He ignored the startled looks he got at the division; nine times out of ten Kate went with him to talk to the family members. It had nothing to do with ability and everything to do with gender - grieving parents or spouses tended to relate better to a woman. But as Abby would say, something was hinky with Tony and Gibbs didn't want him biting McGee's head off.

Tony was silent in the car on the way to the hotel where Carter's parents were staying. "Not sure I'm the best choice for this, Boss," he muttered in the elevator.

"You've done it before." Gibbs wasn't sure Tony was the best choice either, but it was either that or inflict him on McGee all afternoon. And Gibbs really didn't want to deal with the paperwork that would ensue if McGee had a nervous breakdown.

Carter's parents were sitting on the bed, leaning toward each other as much for support as from the sagging mattress. His mother had a crumpled tissue in her hands and kept rubbing her eyes, trying and failing not to cry. His father looked like he'd aged twenty years overnight; it was a look Gibbs was all too familiar with. "What happened?" his mother asked, plucking at the tissue.

Gibbs hated this part, but before he could say anything, Tony spoke up. "Your son was killed. We think someone murdered him," he said quietly, his voice as compassionate as Gibbs had ever heard it.

"Why? He was a good boy--he didn't hurt anyone! He just--" Carter's mother dissolved into sobs, hiding her head in her husband's shoulder.

The husband hugged her, rocking her gently. Tony left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water. He knelt in front of Mrs. Carter, resting one hand on her wrist. "We don't know why yet," he said, giving her the glass. "We're going to find out, but we need your help."

"We hadn't seen Jeremy in months," his father said. "I don't know what we can tell you."

"Had you spoken to him recently?" Gibbs asked. "Had he said anything about a new girlfriend, maybe? Something going on with his job?"

Mr. Carter shook his head. "No. Jeremy keeps--" He swallowed. "He kept to himself, a lot. He called home a couple times a month, but...he never said much."

Gibbs wasn't surprised; parents rarely knew much in these types of cases unless they were the killers.

"You'll find him?" Mrs. Carter asked Tony, voice trembling. "You'll find the man who did this to my baby?"

Tony nodded. "We will."

She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. "My daughter's plane is arriving soon," she said, looking at her husband. "We should--"

Gibbs nodded. "If you think of anything he said, even if it didn't seem important--please, call us." He gave the husband a card.

"We will."

Tony slumped against the seat as they drove back to the office, looking out the window moodily. "You did good in there," Gibbs said after a bit.

"Next time, Boss? Bring Kate." Tony folded his arms over his chest.

"I make the decisions on who does what, DiNozzo," Gibbs reminded him.

"She's better at this than me." Tony stared out the window the rest of the way back.

Kate and McGee were already back at the office by the time they arrived. "Carter's CO was in Florida on leave for the past week," Kate said immediately. "He doesn't know anything. As far as he's concerned, Carter was a good Marine and a decent guy, if quiet."

"What about the roommate?"

"Seemed pretty shaken, but..." Kate shook her head. "Something's off. His hands and arms were pretty banged up. Could be from the field exercise he was on yesterday."

"Can we prove his whereabouts for the time of the murder?" Gibbs asked.

"He says he was home watching TV."

"Sounds like we have a suspect."

"We may have more than that," Abby said, walking in. "I was able to identify the discoloration from the skin under Carter's nails. It's tattoo ink--dark blue. Anyone you know have a scratched up tat?"

Kate and McGee looked at each other. "The roommate," McGee said. "He has something on his left arm. We couldn't see what, because it was bandaged."

"Go pick him up," Gibbs ordered.

It turned out to be easy. Bradford folded within five minutes. All Gibbs did was bring Abby in for a DNA sample and he broke. "I wanted to leave the Corps," he said, staring down at his hands. "Jer didn't, but--" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"

"What happened?" Gibbs asked evenly.

"We used to go to the park. Just to hang out. He called me and we met for dinner and came over here." Marc picked at his bandage absently. "My term's up in six months. Jer had already signed on for another three years. I wanted him to leave--we were talking about traveling, maybe, or going back to school. Neither of us ever made it to college. And we just..." Marc swallowed. "We started arguing. And we were fighting before we knew it and I pushed him and he just...fell." He swallowed again. "He hit his head on a rock on the way down."

That matched Ducky's analysis--he'd said that the damage to Carter's skull was likely the result of something like a rock. Gibbs kept his face impassive. Bradford might not be a cold-blooded killer, but he'd still taken a man's life.

"I loved him," Marc said dully. "He was like my brother. And I killed him." He shook his head. "I'll plead guilty to whatever charges there are. I don't care."

Gibbs left him sitting in the room and went to Kate and Tony. "Thoughts?" he asked.

Kate nodded. "It fits. Ducky said a lot of the injuries were consistent with him falling down the path. And the injuries on Bradford's arms are as much defensive as offensive. Carter gave as good as he got. One wrong push and we'd have two dead bodies--or a change in murderers."

"Yeah." Gibbs sighed. "That's what I thought too. Tony, read him his rights and book him."

Tony left the room silently.

Finishing up the reports took less time than usual. Tony got his done in record time and tossed it on Gibbs' desk, clearly waiting for Gibbs to skim it and toss it back to him. It was the way things generally worked, after all. And true to form, Gibbs picked up the report, skimming through it at first. Then he frowned and read it more carefully. Tony had gotten his report done fast, but it was thorough. Accurate, detailed, and nothing left out. He'd even run it through the spellchecker. "Good work, DiNozzo," he said, looking up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Tony just shrugged and left.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with him?" Kate demanded once the elevator doors had closed. "It's like we're dealing with some--some--robot!" She glared at the elevator. "Something is not right there."

"You gonna ask him and find out?" Gibbs asked wryly.

"After today? Not a chance." Kate huffed in exasperation and picked up her bag. "I'm going home."

Gibbs stayed late, going over the reports before finally signing off on them and sending them up to the director. He didn't get home until ten and thought briefly about sleep before nuking some food and heading down to the boat. Too much on his mind to allow him to sleep; maybe the wood would help him sort some of it out.

As he'd hoped, the rhythmic motion of the sanding block helped settle his mind, if it didn't completely erase the concern. Tony was an adult, he reminded himself. He could handle himself. Whatever was going on with him--it wasn't Gibbs' job to worry about him on a personal level. And if a small part of him wished it was, he squashed that down ruthlessly. Tony was his subordinate. Nothing more.

He fell asleep under the boat and woke up with a stiff neck, a foul taste in his mouth, and a desperate need for coffee. A shower took care of the first two and the technological miracle that was his coffeemaker took care of the third. Now he just had to get to work and deal with his team. With any luck, Tony would have worked through whatever was bothering him.

Luck didn't seem to be on his side. With no hot cases to work on, they were all catching up on paperwork--something guaranteed to bring out the devil in Tony on a *good* day.

This was not a good day.

What bothered Gibbs wasn't the way Tony couldn't seem to sit still, or the way he was constantly tapping his pen or his fingers against his desk, or the exasperated looks Kate kept giving him. He was used to that.

He *wasn't* used to Tony glaring back, any more than he was used to the ferocity with which Tony was stabbing keys on his computer. "We go through enough IT stuff as it is," Kate said acerbically. "You really want to break that too?"

Tony completely ignored her, which wasn't like him.

"Great. Now he's deaf *and* pissy," Kate muttered.

"I can hear you just fine," Tony said evenly. "And if you said anything worth responding to, I'd answer. Forgive me if I'm not in the mood to deal with shrews today."

Kate glared at him. "Sorry if I'm not always smiling like one of your usual bimbos," she snapped.

"At least they know when to keep quiet," Tony said under his breath.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked without looking up.

Tony hit something on his keyboard with enough force to make McGee jump. "Yeah," he near-growled.

"Knock it off. I don't know what the hell your problem is, I don't *want* to know, but keep it out of here."

"Fine." Tony stood up, grabbing his gun and his keys. "I'm gone."

"The hell you are!" Gibbs pushed his chair back and stood. "Sit your ass back down, DiNozzo."

For a long, tense moment, Gibbs wasn't sure Tony was going to listen to him. But he didn't back down and after about thirty seconds, Tony dropped into his chair. Hard.

"Are you *trying* to get fired?" Kate muttered.

"No, Kate, I leave that to you." Tony gave her a cold smile. "You call it resigning, but face facts--it was a pre-emptive strike. Wasn't it."

Gibbs was *not* in the mood for this. "DiNozzo. Outside. Now." He stood, glaring at Tony until DiNozzo scowled and headed out the door.

"You listen to me and you listen good," Gibbs said once they were outside. "Either you lose the attitude or you lose the job. I don't know what bug crawled up your ass and died, but I do *not* have the time or the inclination to deal with it. Work out your issues on your own damn time. Not mine."

"Right. Sorry. I must have missed the memo that said you're the only one allowed to be a bastard around here." Tony smiled brightly. "I'll be sure to go take my happy pills now."

"I meant it, DiNozzo. Lose the attitude or lose the job."

"Fine."

Gibbs hadn't been sure what he'd expected Tony to do, but it hadn't been this. He blinked, completely caught off-guard as Tony shoved his gun and his badge into Gibbs' hands. He barely managed to wrap his fingers around them before they fell.

"I'm gone. You'll have my official resignation tomorrow." With that, Tony spun on one heel and took off.

Gibbs looked down at the items in his hands and cursed under his breath. Now what the hell was he going to do?

"Do we have to hide the body?" Kate asked when he came back inside.

"I told him to take the day and get his head screwed on straight. We'll call him if we need him." Gibbs put Tony's gun and badge in his desk drawer and closed it so the sight of them wouldn't nag him all afternoon. And so much for his plans with Anna that night--he was going to find out what was wrong with Tony, no matter what it took.

An hour crawled by, then another, and around three Gibbs gave up. "Kate, you're in charge," he said, getting his things and Tony's. "Something comes up, call me. Otherwise, I'll see you Monday." He didn't give her a chance to respond before he left.

Tony's door was locked; Gibbs knocked and didn't get a response. He sighed and debated the wisdom of letting himself in for about ten seconds before digging out his key and opening the door. At least he had Tony's main weapon, although he didn't fool himself that Tony didn't have a backup piece. Cop instincts almost equaled Marine instincts in terms of paranoia. "Tony?" he called, moving inside cautiously. "You here, DiNozzo?"

Silence greeted him. Gibbs sighed and checked the rooms out of habit, even though he was sure Tony wasn't there. And sure enough, there was no DiNozzo to be found. Gibbs sat down on the couch, figuring Tony had to come home sooner or later.

About fifteen minutes later, Tony walked in, wearing running gear and looking like he'd just been through the wringer. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, going to get a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off and drank thirstily. "I told you, you'll get my resignation letter tomorrow."

"I'm not accepting your damn resignation, DiNozzo." Gibbs stood up. "You want to tell me what's going on with you or what?"

"No." Tony capped the bottle and set it down next to his keys. "And you don't really have a choice, Gibbs. How are you going to stop me?"

Gibbs bit back his initial response and crossed to Tony. "I'm not going to let you throw away your career because of--whatever the hell's going on with you," he told DiNozzo. "You want a day to cool down? Fine, it's the weekend. Take two, if you want. But you *will* be back at work on Monday."

"Didn't you hear me the first time, Gibbs? I quit. I'm done. I don't need to stay at NCIS. Fornell would probably love to get his hands on me, and even if he doesn't, I'm sure I could find another police department willing to take me on."

"You'd hate working for the Bureau," Gibbs pointed out. "And can you really see yourself going back to local law enforcement?"

"I don't fucking care!" Tony exploded. "Goddamnit, Gibbs, would you fucking let it drop? I. Quit."

"I'm not accepting it."

"You don't have a choice. I'll take it to Morrow if I have to, but I quit!"

"I'm not letting you do this," Gibbs warned him.

Tony made a sound somewhere between a scream and a growl. "What are you going to do, Gibbs? Tie me up and drag me into work? You might be a Marine, but I'm not exactly a lightweight here."

"Tony, would you just tell me what the hell is *wrong* here?" Gibbs demanded.

"Drop it, Gibbs. Just drop it."

"No." Instinctively, he braced himself, thinking Tony might hit him. He'd never seen Tony get physically violent with someone before, but he'd never seen Tony this out of control before, either. And he didn't want to hurt DiNozzo if he didn't have to.

Tony stared at him for a long moment. Then he moved--but it wasn't to hit Gibbs. He grabbed Gibbs' shoulders and kissed him, hard.

Holy shit. Of everything--and then Gibbs stopped thinking about it, because Tony's mouth was hot and demanding and his hands had found their way into Gibbs' hair, cradling his head. Gibbs realized vaguely that his own hands were on Tony's face, pulling him closer, trying to crawl into the kiss.

Someone moaned and Gibbs had no idea who. God--he'd never imagined, never even allowed himself to think--and then as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Tony pulled away, stumbling. He stared at Gibbs blankly for a moment before grabbing his keys and running out the door.

Well. *That* explained a lot.

He waited about five minutes before accepting the fact that Tony wasn't going to come back while he was there. So he left. It was Tony's place, after all, and Gibbs didn't want to drive him out of it any more than he already had.

He drove home on auto-pilot, mind coming up with and rejecting various scenarios. There was no denying that Tony had wanted him--probably still did. That kiss had been hotter than the last night he'd spent with Anna, which was an entirely different matter. Right now he had to think about Tony, and what this all meant.

Problem was, he wasn't entirely sure. *Something* had freaked Tony out, badly enough that he'd fled from his own apartment. And Tony didn't run. Given fight or flight, Tony would choose fight every time. He just didn't back down, even when he should have known better.

Had Tony been fighting an attraction to him this whole time? It would explain the attitude, at least. And it would explain why he'd finally snapped when Gibbs had pushed him a little too far. But the look on his face hadn't been embarrassment, or even shame at being caught. He'd been scared--enough to run.

Gibbs went inside the house and poured himself a drink, tossing it back in one gulp. He unholstered his gun and put it away, realizing belatedly that he still had Tony's weapon and his badge.

Damnit. He'd have to go over there tomorrow to give it back. If he was lucky, Tony wouldn't shoot him with it.

The evening passed in a haze of sawdust and mindless labor. He didn't want to think, didn't want to *let* himself think about what any of this meant. And maybe it was running, but he just couldn't care. It was going to be hard enough to see Tony tomorrow. God only knew what would happen then.

He fell into bed around eleven, physically worn out from working on the boat and mentally exhausted from *not* thinking about the day. He'd just started to drift off when the phone rang. "Someone better be dead," he muttered into the receiver.

"That depends," Anna said back. "You might be, if you don't tell me what happened tonight." Her voice was warm and teasing, and Gibbs realized belatedly that he'd never called her to cancel. "Catch a case, Jethro?"

"Not exactly." Gibbs sighed and rolled over on his back. "I'm sorry, Anna. I--"

"Forgot," she finished. "Not like it hasn't happened before." He heard the smile in her voice and said a silent thanks. "You can make it up to me Sunday."

"What's Sunday?" he asked warily.

Anna laughed. "Nothing. I thought we might have brunch."

"That would be nice," he admitted, hiding a yawn.

"Did I wake you? It's only eleven. I thought you'd still be up working on the boat."

"Long day. You didn't wake me, exactly." Gibbs tucked the phone under his ear and stretched, rubbing a hand over his face. "What time and where on Sunday?"

"I'll pick you up around eleven, how's that?"

He laughed. "You and that car. You're worse than me and the boat."

"At least I can take the car out of the garage," she teased. "Get some sleep, Jethro. I'll pick you up on Sunday."

"Sleep well yourself." He hung up the phone and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow.

Morning came all too soon and he gave serious thought to just pulling the curtains shut and staying in bed, but years of discipline wouldn't let him. With a groan, he got up and stumbled to the shower. Hot water, then coffee. *Then* he could think about dealing with Tony.

It took two cups of coffee and about ten minutes of wavering before Gibbs told himself to suck it up and picked up Tony's gun and his badge and left.

He knocked on Tony's door and listened, hearing the sound of someone moving. A moment later the door opened and a very bleary-eyed Tony stood there staring at him, dressed in a faded BPD T-shirt and blue boxers. Gibbs waited, saying nothing, until Tony sighed and moved aside to let him in.

"I'm not accepting your resignation." Gibbs put Tony's gun down next to his keys, followed by his badge. "I'll see you Monday."

Tony ran his hands through his hair. "Why?"

"I need you on my team," Gibbs said simply. "You're too good an agent to lose."

"Gibbs--" Tony shook his head. "I kissed you!"

"I know." Gibbs managed a wry smile. "Trust me, DiNozzo, I noticed."

"And you're not--" Tony gestured. "You're okay with that?"

"Depends on why you did it."

"I don't know!" Tony shook his head, pacing. "I don't--" He stopped, looking at Gibbs. "You're okay with the fact that *I* kissed you? Because I'm not. I'm *really* not, Gibbs."

"Why?"

"Because you're--you're you. And you're my boss. And you're a man!"

"Which one of those bothers you the most, Tony?" Gibbs asked carefully. Pieces were beginning to fall into place now.

Tony looked at him incredulously. "You have to ask that?"

"Yeah, I do." Gibbs tilted his head to the side. "I doubt it's that I'm your boss, since you theoretically quit. So either you're upset because you kissed *me*, or you're upset because you kissed a man. And given the way you reacted after Voss..." He trailed off. "Straight doesn't mean what it did forty-eight hours ago, does it?"

Tony bit his lip, letting out a deep breath. He looked down at the floor and sighed again. "No." He shook his head and looked back at Gibbs. "Ever have a moment where your entire worldview changes and you've got no fucking clue how to deal with it?"

"Yeah." Gibbs nodded. "The time I came home to find my first wife in bed with some petty officer and realized I was more jealous of *her* than I was angry at *him*."

He hadn't thought it was possible for Tony's eyes to get any wider. "You mean--you--" Tony stopped, fumbling for words. "I--you--you're--"

Gibbs just nodded.

"Christ." Tony looked up at the ceiling. "Still doesn't explain why you didn't rip my head off."

"Figured I'd let you work through it first." Gibbs took a seat on Tony's couch. "Why'd you do it, Tony?"

"Blow up? Or kiss you?"

"How about both?"

Tony sighed and dropped onto the couch at the other end, slouching against the cushions. "I don't know, Gibbs. I don't--something snapped. That's the best I can tell you. And I don't know why."

Gibbs looked at him, considering. "All right. I'll let you pass on the office thing from yesterday. Kate thinks I sent you home for the day to cool down anyway. But you need to figure out what you want, Tony. You need to decide what happened and why."

"Not like it matters," Tony said, closing his eyes.

"Why?"

"Gibbs, I *work* for you. And even if I decide that I might, possibly, in some very strange universe, want--" Tony shook his head. "I can't even say it. Christ. Even *if* all that wasn't a problem, and that's a huge if--it's you. And me. And you've made it abundantly clear what you think of me."

"Yeah." Gibbs reached over and touched Tony's wrist, noticing that Tony jumped a little at his touch. "I think you're a damned good agent. But you've never asked me what I think of you on a personal level."

"You've made enough cracks about my life that I don't think I need to," Tony pointed out.

"I make cracks about Abby's life too. Can't do it with Kate--she gets too pissy too easily, and McGee needs to grow a pair first." Gibbs cuffed Tony lightly. "Figure out what you want, Tony. Then come ask me what I think."

"You don't ask for much, do you," Tony muttered.

"Take the weekend, Tony. Think about it. I'll see you Monday morning." Gibbs stood, looking down at Tony. "I'm not going to fire you and I'm not going to accept your resignation. Deal with it."

Tony sighed. "Yeah. See you Monday, Boss."

Well. That had gone better than he'd anticipated. Gibbs had to admit he hadn't figured Tony for the type to panic at realizing he wasn't entirely straight, but he also hadn't figured Tony *thought* of himself that way. He'd honestly thought the womanizing was played up a bit, designed to make people see what they wanted.

Apparently, he'd been wrong and DiNozzo really *was* that much of a ladies' man. Gibbs shook his head and started the car, amused at his own blindness. He'd wanted to see something that wasn't there and he'd looked at the evidence with an idea already in place. Good thing Tony wasn't a suspect.

He stopped for coffee on the way home and was turning to leave when he caught sight of a redheaded woman talking with some friends. She laughed, rich and full, and Gibbs smiled a little, reminded of Anna.

Shit. What the *hell* was he going to tell her?