First Offence

Summary: Gibbs responds to Tim's actions in Capitol Offence – spoiler alert! Warning: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.

A/N: This is not part of my main series of discipline stories and bears no relationship whatsoever to the plot arc developed there. I'm not abandoning that story line, but this plot bunny was particularly insistent...

Warning: This story contains the spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.

Tim paced around the conference room that he'd been ordered not to leave. Gibbs had looked particularly grim when he'd told him to come wait for him here, and Tim was more than a little nervous, not least because he didn't have the faintest idea what was going on.

The door opened quietly, and Tim turned, facing his boss across the large table in the centre of the room. Gibbs shut the door, and, to Tim's surprise, locked it.

There was a long moment of silence before Gibbs finally spoke.

'Stealing, Tim?'

'That's what this is about? The cupcake? C'mon, Boss, I know Abby's mad at me, but you're not seriously...'

'You are a federal agent, McGee! Are you actually telling me that you don't know that stealing, and trying to cover it up, and lying about it, is wrong? Not to mention the waste of the resources of this Agency, while Abby was trying to track you down!'

'Yes. I mean, no. I mean... It was just a cupcake!'

'I don't care what it was, McGee! That argument doesn't work when it's a kid caught swiping a candy-bar, and it's not gonna work for you. You don't steal. End of story.'

'Ok, I'm sorry. I'll buy her a new cupcake. Alright?'

'I don't think you have any idea just how much trouble you're in... how much trouble you could have been in right now.'


'I really wish I didn't have to do this, Tim.'

'You're going to fire me?!'

'No, but I am going to give you a damn good spanking.'

'What?! Boss... you're not serious!'

'Do I look like I'm kidding, son?'

'But... you can't...'

Tim backed up as far as he could go, staring at his boss in absolute shock.

'Since you acted like a kid, I thought I'd treat you like one... Unless you'd prefer to be treated like an adult caught stealing in a federal agency?'

'No way... I'm not going to let you...'

Gibbs cut him off abruptly.

'And I'm not going to lose you, Tim. Not when I just got you back.'

Tim froze, stunned by the surprisingly frank comment from his normally emotionless boss.

'Come here.'

The reality of the situation suddenly sank in as Gibbs beckoned him across the room and pointed at the table. He clearly expected Tim to actually bend over and let him spank him. He didn't move. He couldn't move. This couldn't actually be happening.

'NOW, Timothy!'

Gibbs's 'Marine' voice, combined with the use of his full name, had him scurrying across the room before he even realised what his feet were doing. It was sheer instinct to obey this man, and in that moment he realised that there was also no real question about accepting his discipline, either. Reluctantly, he leaned over and grabbed onto the sides of the table.

He almost fled when he heard Gibbs remove his belt and fold it in half.

But before the thought was even fully formed, he felt an unbelievable lightening-bolt of pain that made his breath catch in his throat.

He ground his teeth together and tried to focus on the grain of the wood in front of his face, but the next lash drew a soft moan.

He had never imagined that a spanking could hurt this much. A third wave of pain tore through him.

He blinked hard against the tears that threatened to spill down his face, unsure if it was the pain of Gibbs's belt across his ass, or the unbelievable fact that his boss was actually whipping him, that drew them.

The fourth stroke had him fairly convinced it was the pain.

But he knew there was something else as well. If he ever needed proof of the remarkable dynamic the team had, this was it. Gibbs was punishing him like a father would his son, for behaving childishly, for swiping a dessert from the woman he thought of as a daughter. He'd laughed at Tony's antics in the Seahawk's comm room, talking about him like a younger brother, calling Gibbs 'Dad'... and now here he was, not quite turned over 'dad's' lap, but close enough.

He groaned through another lash, feeling like his ass was on fire and certain that he'd never sit down again. He choked back a sob, trying desperately to catch his breath.

The sixth stroke landed across the tender backs of his thighs, drawing a genuine cry of sheer pain and surprise.

And, suddenly, he felt strong hands on his shoulders pulling him upright. As he struggled to control his hitched sobs, Gibbs patted him softly on the back and handed him a handful of tissues.

'I meant it, Tim. I'm not losing you. And if that means dealing with you off the record, so we don't give Director Vance another excuse to break up the team again, then that's what I'm going to do.'

Tim managed to nod dumbly.

'So I'd suggest you use that brilliant brain of yours and try to keep your butt out of trouble.'

Another nod, more determined this time.

'Alright. Get back to work.'

Tim stopped at the men's room and splashed some water on his face, trying to erase the red, tear-streaked evidence of his punishment. Still, he was walking awkwardly when he returned to his desk, and he couldn't help wincing and squirming in a futile effort to make sitting less painful.

'Are you alright, McGee? Perhaps you should have Ducky examine you. Perhaps there was something in that drainage ditch that you are allergic to, yes?'

'Uh, it's ok, Ziva. I'm fine.'

'Are you sure? Because you seem...'

'He doesn't look itchy, Ziva. He looks... actually, he looks like a kid who just got taken out to the woodshed.'

'I do not understand. How would cutting firewood make him...'

'No, no, no! I knew you were reverting. Taken to the woodshed, Ziva. As in spanked.'

'What does a shed have to do...'

'Because you take the kid who's gonna...'

'Guys! I'm right here, you know?'

'Lighten up, Probie. It's not as if... NO!'

'Yeah. For the cupcake.'

'Jeez. And I though the head-slaps were ba... Thank you, Boss. Getting back to work now.'