A/N: Needed a little break from work and life in general and this is the result of that. Don't know if it's any good as I just wrote it this morning, but I guess I'll see if you like it :) Happy Holidays :)

Disclaimer: Nothing, as usual, belongs to me.

As simple as this

"I'm quitting."

Gibbs' head whipped around from where he had been focused on the piece of wood in front of him to look at the younger man who was just descending the stairs into his basement.

"Run that by me again?" he said just barely managing not to choke on the words.

"I'm quitting."

"Why?"

Gibbs stared at Tony who was now coming to a stop at his workbench, eyeing the jars of nails as if he was pondering which one to empty in order to have a drink. Gibbs subtly shook his head, trying to remember when he had last had that particular nightmare. But oddly enough, this felt real – too real.

"It's time," Tony just answered, shrugging his shoulders, still not quite looking at him.

He reached out his hand, but didn't get one of the jars. He just adjusted the lights Gibbs had hung up to bring in at least a bit of Christmas cheer. Gibbs was still staring at him in disbelief. Nothing had indicated that such a life-changing decision was to be made. Tony had acted just like always, maybe a bit toned down, but he'd been in those kinds of funk before. Gibbs had guessed that it had to do with Ziva's departure but he'd been sure that they would pull through. Tony had even seemed to like Bishop well enough that Gibbs had considered to make her a permanent fixture on their team. So, what had happened all of a sudden? Gibbs knew that he was still staring and knew that he should probably say something, but he came up completely empty. He blinked a couple of times and then was brought out of the over-revving of his brain by the topic of his thoughts himself.

"You're not going to say anything?" Tony asked, now actually emptying the nails onto the work bench and reaching into a drawer where he knew Gibbs kept the good stuff.

"You can't just quit," Gibbs finally replied, gripping the wood behind him with so much force that for a split of a second he thought he'd break it.

"Oh, I think I can. It's time, Gibbs. I've been your second for thirteen years. Don't you think it's time to move on?" Tony answered calmly, his glance fixed on the amber liquid in his jar.

"I…," Gibbs began, but had no idea whatsoever what he actually wanted to say. "I didn't think you were not satisfied with the team."

Tony let out a bark of a laugh as he shook his head and finally downed the drink in one long gulp, pulling a face when the liquor burned down his throat.

"I love the team, Gibbs. Hell, I like Bishop, too. I know you're thinking about bringing her on board."

"So, what's the problem?" Gibbs checked back, feeling his stomach start to get queasy.

"You."

Gibbs looked at the other man, who was finally meeting his eyes now. He knew he could be a bastard sometimes, but he had had no idea he could be the reason for Tony leaving.

"Me?" he pressed out, hating himself because he sounded so quiet, so broken all of a sudden.

He hadn't wanted this to happen – ever. He had always thought that once he retired, Tony would take over. He had wanted the younger man to be a permanent fixture even after he retired. And maybe, maybe, he'd have the guts to finally say the words, too, then.

"Yeah, you," Tony said rather coldly, though his eyes were shimmering ever so slightly and Gibbs was almost sure that he was on the verge of tears.

"Why?"

"I just can't do it anymore. I love the team and the job is my life, but I can't stand you bullshitting me every single time you talk to me. I can't do it anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Gibbs asked, feeling an iron fist clutch his stomach. "How am I bullshitting you?"

"Every goddamn time you open your mouth, Gibbs," Tony said, shaking his head in mock amusement. "I don't even think you do it on purpose, but you do it, Gibbs, you do."

"How?" Gibbs pressed out, leaning back against his wood work, running a hand over his face. "When?"

Tony stared at him for a moment longer before he leaned back against the work bench, once again shaking his head. Gibbs wasn't entirely sure if he was actually able to breathe right now. It was like someone had hit him with a hammer over the head. He was feeling dazed and still had no idea what the hell was going on. He waited Tony out, though. Knowing that even when the younger man was mad, he'd talk eventually – and Gibbs wouldn't let him go like that anyway.

"Remember," Tony finally started over. "When you told me you trusted me anytime?"

Gibbs drew back his head, letting out a breath before training his eyes back on Tony, who was now directly looking at him again.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied quietly. "Meant it."

"No," Tony shook his head, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. "You didn't. You say you do… you say you trust me and then turn around and talk to everyone about the important things, but not to me. How is that trusting me?"

Gibbs felt his heart beat heavily in his chest as he made a step or two forward in order to get closer to the younger man, but stopped dead when he saw him shake his head.

"What are you talking about?" Gibbs asked, his voice on the verge of breaking again and this time he didn't even try to hide it anymore.

Tony let out a bark of a laugh and downed another jar of bourbon.

"Come on, Gibbs, don't play dumb now. Remember when your dad wanted your help?"

Gibbs nodded mutely, feeling like he had been dipped into ice cold water, knowing what was coming. If Tony only knew…

"You asked McGee for the other guy's address, Boss, and I kind of get it, he's the techie and all. But then I ask you if I could help you and you say no. It's not bad, Gibbs, but it seemed like you talked to everyone about it, but me. You didn't talk to me, who knows a thing or two about difficult fathers. I know your old man is getting… well, old, Gibbs, and I know you're a very private person. But you talked to everyone else. Why not me? Why didn't you let me drive the guy? Or hell, talk to him? Why? If you trust me anytime, why don't you trust me with your dad? Hell, why don't you trust me with anything that's only vaguely important to you?"

"Tony," Gibbs started, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "It's not like that."

"Not like that?" Tony interrupted him, his voice rising. "Not like that? It's always like that, Gibbs. You don't let me get close. I'm not asking to hold your hand when you have a bad day, but a little bit of trust, a little bit of… something… would be nice. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep trusting you with my life, when all you do is push me away. Why, Gibbs, why do you always do that?"

Gibbs blinked a couple of times, trying to form a coherent sentence. He knew he had to act now or Tony would be lost forever. The hard thing, though, was how to say the words without actually saying the words. He knew he needed Tony to be there, knew he had pushed him away without even meaning to. It was just too dangerous to let him get too close.

"Tony," he finally started, now finally taking the steps towards the other man before coming to a stop right in front of him. "I'm not pushing you away. I didn't lie. I do trust you and with my life at that. I'm just…"

"Do as I say not as I do?" Tony interrupted him again, shaking his head.

"No," Gibbs replied vehemently, "I… trust you too much. I couldn't let you take care of my dad because…" Gibbs trailed off, trying to find the rights words. "I needed someone who didn't know what was going on. I needed someone who can't see the things I see. I asked McGee to help me because I knew he wouldn't ask. Wouldn't ask how I was dealing with it, how I was. You, Tony," Gibbs' stare was finally met by the green eyes belonging to Tony. "You would've asked me. And I'm not sure what I would have answered."

"How does it matter?" Tony asked, the anger from before apparently having vanished into thin air.

"It does," Gibbs shrugged. "I…"

"You what, Gibbs?" Tony said, shaking his head again. "I know you don't talk a hell of a lot, but don't you think this is kind of important?"

"It is," the older man answered slowly, but determined. "That's why it's so… hard. I'm not good at this, damnit."

"Just tell me why you wouldn't let me help with your dad?" Tony replied calmly and a tiny bit annoyed.

Gibbs, seeing his hopes of a normal – for him – conversation dash away, finally took a deep breath and then answered, knowing that Tony would walk away if he didn't. "Because he would've talked."

"Yeah, Gibbs," Tony said, letting out a laugh. "People tend to do that in conversations."

"He means I would have talked about him," a voice from the top of the stairs answered for him.

Gibbs let his head fall forwards, letting out a sigh. He hadn't expected his father to be there so early. He took a deep breath and was about to say something - anything. Deep down, he was glad that his dad had showed up when he did, saving him from the conversation with Tony. As he looked up again, though, he saw that particular hope fade away because Tony was looking at the older Gibbs with a speculative expression.

"What do you mean, Jack?"

Jackson, still standing at the top of the stairs, his hand clutching the railing rather tightly, sent a short glare at his son which Gibbs tried to return with full force. But apparently he failed miserably as the older man just chuckled before he turned ever so slightly to look at Tony again.

"I mean that he was probably afraid of me blabbing or something. I can't tell you what I'm supposed to blab, but you know him. It can't be a secret that my kid cares about you a lot. And as he's a stupid-head, he always pushes these people away. Can't say I blame him, he's had bad luck with those three ex-wives, but because he's a stupid-head he still doubts his place with you."

Gibbs turned around again in order to be able to look at Tony, who was currently all but gaping at Jackson, his mouth hanging open. Gibbs couldn't say he blamed him. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell his dad he was crazy, but he simply couldn't. Jack had been right. Maybe he didn't exactly doubt his place with Tony, but he did wonder sometimes what Tony saw in him. Was it just the boss, mentor, friend, father figure? He simply didn't know, but he was quite sure that he didn't want to know, either, because then he would just know that Tony didn't see him that way.

"You sure you're feeling alright, Jack?" Tony asked now and Gibbs only just held back a bark of laugh at the sheer incomprehension on the younger man's face.

"I'm perfect, Tony," Jackson grinned. "Just helping you boys along a bit. Anyway," he let out a loud sigh. "I'll be in the living room. Need to sit down for a moment. You boys talk, alright?"

Gibbs was still staring up the stairs as the door to the basement had already closed behind his father. He went over the conversation again, trying to decipher everything that Tony could have read into his father's words. He hadn't exactly said it and Gibbs knew that he couldn't have anyway because he didn't know, either. But maybe his dad understood him better than he had always thought.

"Gibbs?" he was roused from his musing by Tony, whose voice had turned quiet all of a sudden.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs finally turned around again and was then momentarily blown away by the shimmer in the younger man's eyes.

"Is it true? What Jack just said?"

"Every word," Gibbs couldn't help but admit as he stared into the other man's eyes.

"Then… the reason you're always so… distant is… that you care… about me?"

Gibbs nodded, ducking his head. "Yeah, guess so."

"Why?" Tony asked and Gibbs couldn't help but look at him again because his tone of voice had changed once again – this time into a soft whisper.

"Don't know. But I'm not bullshitting you, Tony. I do trust you. I just don't want people to know that I trust you… too much. I'm afr…. I'm mean, it's none of their business."

"You're afraid they'd know."

"Guess so," Gibbs said again, feeling rather queasy inside all of a sudden because Tony was looking at him differently than before and he had no idea what to do with it.

"And by people you mean me."

Gibbs just nodded, knowing that he was unmasked all of a sudden. He expected Tony to get angry at him, calling him up on his bullshit, but he was taken by surprise when Tony just started to smile at him, his eyes smiling along with his lips. Gibbs furrowed his brow as he continued to look at the younger man before he realized that Tony had understood.

"Tony," he started, but was cut off by the other man, who chose this exact moment to reach out his hand to take Gibbs' for a short moment, squeezing it tenderly.

"Shhh," he said as if for added measure. "You don't have to say anything. Not now, not today. It's Christmas, Jethro, and your dad's upstairs. We – you and me – are going to go upstairs, decorate that living room of yours and make conversation with your dad. You will not throw me out when you go to bed and you will not ever not tell me something important like this again. Do we understand each other?"

"Tony," Gibbs started again, but Tony just shook his head, so he fell silent.

He was feeling oddly happy inside even though he didn't even know what Tony was thinking or what Tony was planning to do. He had no idea how to handle it, he had no control over this situation and he hated it – and yet, at the same time he couldn't have been more excited about it. So, he just sagged his shoulders and nodded mutely.

"Good boy," Tony just grinned, and Gibbs had no idea where his confidence had suddenly come from. "Now, come on. Let's get upstairs and keep Santa Clause up there some company. We can talk later."

Gibbs just nodded again and watched Tony get into action. He watched him take a step before he grabbed for his right arm, holding him in place for a second before pulling him closer ever so slightly. Tony just smiled at him again, so warmly that Gibbs actually felt something inside of him get warmer, too. Then, without really thinking of what he was doing, he pulled Tony even closer and softly kissed him. Tony responded easily. The kiss was over just as suddenly as it had started, but it was enough for the moment to know that they actually were on the same page. Tony grinned at him once more before he turned around and all but ran up the stairs.

When he arrived at the top, he turned around, the smile still on his face.

"You coming?"

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, feeling a smile build on his face. "I'll follow you."

And he was sure that Tony knew he would. Because he trusted the younger man. It was as simple as that.