The next morning, Gibbs woke Tony up at six. "Shower's all yours," he said, poking his head in the door. Tony groaned and snuggled further under the blankets. "Come on. Time to get up."

"Boss, come on. It's not like I have anywhere to go," Tony moaned sleepily.

"You don't get to sleep the day away when you're grounded, Tony. Get up. Breakfast is in fifteen," Gibbs said then bounced down the stairs. As much as he'd hated hearing those words when he was younger, it was actually kind of fun to say them.

Tony arrived in the kitchen right on time. He was showered, but definitely not awake. Gibbs wordlessly handed him a coffee cup and a plate of toast. Tony took both and flopped into a chair with the plate and the empty cup.

"It might help if you put something in that," Gibbs said, trying not to smile.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Gibbs was lost in the paper. Tony was still more asleep than awake. Just for the fun of it, Gibbs put his coffee cup down on the table harder than was really necessary. As expected, Tony jumped and Gibbs laughed.

"Not funny, Boss," Tony mumbled.

Gibbs grinned and shrugged. "Was to me." He stood up and brought his plate and cup to the sink. "I cooked. You're on KP."

"Cooked? You made toast and put a box of cereal on the table," Tony retorted.

"I made coffee too." Gibbs walked toward the door and picked up his keys off the table next to it.

"Wait, Boss!" Tony called. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"You have an essay to write."

"That's not going to take me all day."

Gibbs walked back into the kitchen. "Ten pages? Long hand? It'll take you most of the day."

"What?!" Tony exclaimed, suddenly fully awake.

"Spelling and neatness count," Gibbs added, then turned and walked out of the room. "Have a good day," he called. "Call if you need anything." And with that, he was gone.

Tony stared into his coffee cup. "Ten pages…" he fussed. Rolling his eyes, he got up and dropped his dishes into the sink. He started to walk out of the kitchen, then turned back. If he didn't do the dishes now, they wouldn't get done. He washed, dried and put them away quickly. Before he headed up to the office, he had another thought. He reached into the freezer, extricated two steaks and deposited them in the sink. There was no way he was going to make that mistake again.

Three hours and four pages later, Tony leaned back in the office chair and stretched. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with his legs in the air. "Ow," he said, rubbing the back of his head. He groaned. "This sucks!" he said out loud. Flexing his sore right hand, he studied the ceiling. There was nothing interesting up there, but his eyes needed to focus on something a little further away than the pad of paper he'd been staring at for far too long.

Suddenly, he had a thought. He pushed himself off the floor and righted the chair before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open and dialed Gibbs.

"Gibbs."

"Hey Boss!"

"I'm a little busy here. What is it Tony?"

"Oh, um, I was just wondering…can I go…"

"No."

"But Boss, you don't even know what I was going to ask."

"What part of 'you're grounded' do you not understand?"

He let out a deflated sigh. "I guess none of it. Sorry I bothered you."

Tony heard Gibbs hesitate. "I'll see you tonight," he said gently and then hung up.

He flipped his phone closed, looked at the desk with disgust then decided to go looking for a snack. A break was very much needed right now.

An hour later, Tony made his way back up to the office, having run out of ways to stall, and starting to realize that he still had six more pages to come up with before Gibbs got home in a few hours.

Four and a half pages of rambling later, he heard the front door open and close. "Tony?" Gibbs called.

"Up here," he called back. His heart was pounding as he wrote furiously, trying to fill the last page and a half before Gibbs made it up the stairs. Naturally, he failed.

"You're still working on that?" Gibbs asked, looking over Tony's shoulder. He reached over and picked up the pad while Tony continued to try to write on it. "Time's up, Tony," he said with a grin as he flipped back to the first page. He settled into the stuffed chair in the corner and started reading. Tony watched nervously. A page flipped. Gibbs' eyes darted back and forth on the page. A page flipped. More reading. A page flipped. Gibbs shook his head and dropped the pad into his lap. "Well," he said, "the first two pages were ok."

"Boss, I tried. I swear. But ten pages? Really?" Tony whined.

Gibbs grinned. "It kept you busy all day," he shrugged. Tony glared at him, and he laughed. "Go get changed. We'll go for that run you wanted earlier today." He hoisted himself out of the chair and headed to his room to change, leaving Tony sitting with his mouth hanging open.

After showers and a steak and potatoes dinner, Gibbs and Tony settled into the living room, a fire in the fireplace, an old movie on TV and a newspaper.

"I bet you're ready to go back to work tomorrow," Gibbs said quietly after a while.

"Oh yeah," Tony answered emphatically.

"We're ready to have you back," Gibbs said, with a kind smile.

Tony looked over at him and grinned shyly for a moment. Then he jumped up from the couch. "Want some ice cream?"

Gibbs joined him in the kitchen. He pulled open a drawer to take out the ice cream scoop. A small grin spread across his face. His fingers lingered almost fondly on the handle of an old wooden spoon. "Tony." Tony looked at him, down at the drawer then back up at his boss. "Just so you know," he said, still smiling a little, "this spoon has never been used for cooking."