Gibbs sighed internally as he looked at DiNozzo, waiting for whatever cock-and-bull story his SFA was concocting to spill out so he could call him out on it and they could both move on to the truth, or at least a step in that direction.

He was used to dancing around the issue at hand with his SFA, and he had gotten to be very good at it over the years. He still remembered the look on Tony’s face when he had tackled Gibbs in Baltimore over nine years ago, triumph merging into surprise into cocky cop all within the span of a few seconds. Tony had looked and acted like the self-assured frat-boy-cum-cop that he wanted the world to see, but Gibbs had been there when he confronted his dirty partner, had seen the devastation on his face and realised in that moment the quality of the man standing in front of him looking so defeated and yet so determined.

It was in that moment that Gibbs knew he had to have Tony on his team. He had been seriously considering it - he already knew that Tony had investigative talent to spare - but it wasn’t until he saw the integrity carefully hidden in the core of DiNozzo that he made up his mind. Gibbs knew the man was hurting, but he also knew that he couldn’t just come out and offer him a job like a normal human being. It wasn’t his way, for one, and he also knew that Tony wouldn’t have believed him had he offered. For all his brash confidence that he broadcasted to the world, Tony was surprisingly insecure underneath it all.

When Gibbs said that he didn’t waste good, and Tony was good, he had meant it more than almost anything else he’d ever said in his entire life. That first headslap had been the unlikely pivot upon which both their lives had swung wildly into a new and uncharted direction. Somehow, Tony had wormed his way into Gibbs’ inner circle and had left enough of a crack in the door that Kate, McGee, and Ziva could follow. Had it not been for Tony, Gibbs doubted that he ever would have come to care for the agents that came after as much as he did.

Gibbs knew that his life was far richer for having met Tony, but he had quite a bit of difficulty expressing that fact to his SFA. The problem was that his default mode was still Second-B-is-for-Bastard; that switch had been flipped the day he identified his girls’ bodies. Perhaps even more of a problem was the fact that Tony truly didn’t know how to handle genuine kindness and affection. He could only take it if it came at him sideways and cloaked in gruffness or feigned unconcern. “Nice Gibbs” threw Tony off-course and made him worry; what that said about each of them was probably best left unexamined, at least for the moment.

Besides, right now Gibbs was too busy watching the Tony Train Wreck Show to be nice.

Part of Gibbs thought that it really wasn’t fair of him to do this to Tony. He knew that the last case they had worked had deeply disturbed the younger man, though he only had suspicions as to why. Tony on a normal day was a formidable foe, but an off-balance Tony was no match for Gibbs. A nicer person would have backed off and allowed the man to rebuild himself. Unfortunately for Tony, Gibbs was not known for his niceness, especially when his curiosity was piqued.

A curious Gibbs was a dangerous beast indeed.

Gibbs took another sip of his coffee as he listened to Tony’s explanation trail off, hiding a smirk in his drink as he heard Tony gulp. The silence that followed was profound.

Gibbs waited with the patience of the Marine sniper that was as much a part of him as his own heartbeat. People often thought him to be an impatient man, and they were often right. Gibbs didn’t have a very high tolerance level for nonsense, and he showed it with icy glares, headslaps, and deep, angry growls. However, when the situation called for it - and this one most certainly did - he could be as patient as Job himself.

When Tony finally broke, it was like the sweet, victorious thrill of a perfect headshot.

“I’ve camped in Shenandoah dozens of times, Boss.”

That quiet admission echoed between them like the distant boom of a supersonic round. Gibbs had certainly suspected that DiNozzo had more of the outdoorsman in him than he had let on, but this… this was big. Well, not big in the (hugely hypocritical, if Gibbs was going to be honest) way that “I’ve lost a wife and daughter and never told you” was big, but still.

Had anybody told him yesterday that his SFA was keeping a big secret from him, Gibbs would’ve been furious. He knew that there was a place for privacy; he himself was more reclusive than most. However, he expected his teammates to come to him with problems, to trust him - especially Tony.

Yet somehow, the anger didn’t come. Instead there was concern, even worry, and a sadness that didn’t quite have a name yet. The fact that Tony felt the need to hide this from him practically shouted that all was not well in his SFA’s psyche. There was something much deeper at work here than a secret love of camping.

Everyone thought that Abby was Gibbs’ favorite, and she was in a way. Gibbs knew he saw in her the daughter he had lost, knew that she was filling a void that had been eating away at him for close to a decade before they met. He knew he catered to her even at the expense of other teammates, especially McGee, and the twinge of guilt that went with that thought would need to be examined more closely at a later date.

But Tony… Tony was a whole different category altogether.

Gibbs had never concretely defined what Tony meant to him, not even in his own head. It was as if properly labeling their relationship would somehow make it all the more real, make him care too much, make it all the harder to handle every time Tony got hurt. And if Tony actually had the gall to die…

Gibbs couldn’t even begin to fathom it. Losing his girls had almost caused him to eat his gun. Losing Tony would probably make him finally pull the trigger. Kate’s death had been hard, very hard, but he had survived it both because he wasn’t as close to her as he was Tony and because Tony had needed him… and he had needed Tony.

There were days when the thought of needing anyone had him reaching for the nearest bottle of bourbon, but Gibbs knew, in his better moments, that being completely walled off from the rest of the human race was no way to live life. All things considered, he doubted that he could have picked a better individual than Anthony DiNozzo, Junior to have on his six both professionally and personally.

Of course, having one's six is a two-way street, and it didn't take a genius to realize that Tony needed Gibbs to back him up right now. Whatever was going on, Gibbs was determined to help his SFA.

Focus, Marine.

Gibbs mentally shook himself and turned more fully towards his partner, searching for the right words to draw Tony out.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Tony?” Gibbs asked mildly.

Great, now I sound like a twelve-year-old girl. Next I’ll be asking if he wants to join me in painting our nails and talking about our feelings.

“Yeah, Boss, I know. It’s just…”

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow at his SFA as he trailed off, still wondering what exactly was going on and how to handle the situation. Getting Tony to spill was like pulling teeth, and Gibbs wasn’t blind to the fact that he was asking his agent to do something that he himself was loathe to do on the best of days: talk about something that actually mattered.

Gibbs knew his reputation as a functional mute; it didn’t bother him because it was true. He had never been one to make with the yabba-yabba, unlike Tony who used it as both sword and shield. Where Tony preferred to bludgeon his opponent with an avalanche of sound, Gibbs liked to use silence as a wall to keep people out. Opposite approaches, to be sure, but they both worked.

They worked well together when they used their combined skills on other people, but trying their hand against each other was like Tony’s Unstoppable Force meeting Gibbs’ Immovable Object. Still, Gibbs hadn’t gotten to be the lead agent of the MCRT for nothing; he would win this battle of wills if it was the last thing he did.

“Boss, I promise to answer your questions, but can we please wait until we get there and set up for the night? This isn’t something I really want to discuss while driving.”

Gibbs knew a stalling tactic when he heard one, but Tony had a point. He had a feeling that this conversation was going to be both long and difficult. Might as well wait until they were both comfortable.

“OK, Tony. I’ll wait, but don’t think you’re getting out of this. And if you even think of trying to wiggle out of it, I’ll headslap you so hard your grandchildren will feel it. Deal?”

“Deal.”