Author's Note: Thank you to Alex_DN for this wonderful plot bunny that she gave to me! Thanks also to Gotgoats, my wonderful beta! Today is Thanksgiving in the US—for anyone out there celebrating today: be safe and enjoy. Now on with the story. Hugs! Headbanger
Disclaimer: Not mine (in this case not even the idea hahahaha)…
Spoilers: 9.10 Sins Of The Father

Always Gibbs
By Headbanger_Rockstar

Tony thought there might never have be a more awkward meal in his life than the one he would be sitting down to eat with Gibbs and his father. In all of his life, he could never remember his father ever making Thanksgiving Dinner. Hell, he couldn't remember his father making a peanut butter sandwich. But after he was released from custody of NCIS, just before his custody had been transferred to the FBI, he'd somehow ended up at Gibbs' house, which was where Tony found him. Making dinner. For the three of them.

His father had invited him to assist in dressing the turkey for roasting, but Tony had no idea how to help or what to do. The closest he'd come to making the famous turkey dinner, was ordering the "thanksgiving pizza" from Romani's down the block from his apartment. He didn't know how to prepare a turkey, or make stuffing, or sweet potatoes, or…any of the other wonderful smelling dishes that his father was preparing.

Finally admitting defeat in the kitchen, Tony mumbled something about going home. He'd come back tomorrow and spend the day with Gibbs and…and he'd be surprised if his dad actually stuck around.

Gibbs called that evening to ask him where he'd gone, and Tony offered some lame excuse about being really tired and assured Gibbs that he'd be there the following day.

"I'm gonna hold you to that Tony," Gibbs said. "My kitchen looks like a warzone—you'd better show up to eat."

Tony laughed and promised Gibbs that he'd be there and that he'd bring the beer. He had no hope that his father would still be there. None whatsoever.

xxx

The next day, Tony found himself back in the living room at Gibbs' house. His father was not only still there, but was so caught up in the preparation of the meal that he barely acknowledged it when Tony told him after only a few minutes that he was going to get out of the way. Gibbs had disappeared, Tony figured, to give him some time with his dad. Tony sank onto the couch and put his face in his hands. Last night he'd gotten drunk enough to be able to forget the case, at least for the evening. But now it all came rushing back and Tony had no distractions to help him avoid it. His father had nearly been charged with murder. Had been found behind the wheel of a car. Parked at the river. Passed out drunk. With a dead body in the trunk. Jesus.

Tony's mother had been killed in a drunk driving accident.

Tony's hands moved from his face up through his hair, where they laced around the back of his neck. But now that was all over. Tony had found the clue, the lead, the missing piece of the puzzle that saved his father from spending the rest of his life in a federal prison. They'd looked up the pictures. Tony let out a shaking breath. His father would have never survived being in prison. Thinking of how close he'd come…how they almost hadn't found the security tape in time…an image of Senior being carted off to prison, begging Tony to save him, to help him, filled his mind, and it caused Tony to gag.

He stood, racing down the hall to the bathroom where he dropped to his knees, gagging and sobbing, retching pitifully into the toilet.

A hand rested gently on the back of his neck and somewhere up beside him he could hear water running. A cool cloth replaced the hand on his neck…the hand sliding down to his shoulder blades where it rubbed back and forth between them gently. When he was finished, the cloth was wiped gently over his face. Tony's eyes were closed in shame; he couldn't believe how weak he was.

"Shhhh it's alright Tony, easy," a voice whispered. He was pulled into a comforting embrace that smelled nothing like the expensive cologne his father wore. No this was Gibbs. Gibbs offering the comfort. Gibbs being there to help him pick up the pieces. And Tony realized that if his father had been carted away, never to be seen again, that Gibbs would have been there for that as well. Offering comfort. Helping him pick up the pieces. It was always Gibbs.

"S-Sorry Boss," Tony mumbled, gently pulling away, his face burning with embarrassment.

A gentle tap on the back of his head told him not to apologize. Gibbs wiped his face again. "You ok?"

"Yeah…yeah. Just too much. Too much thinking. I-I'm ok now."

Gibbs watched him with that unwavering sniper gaze for a long moment before he nodded. "Wanna help me sand in the basement?"

Tony realized Gibbs was wearing the soft, well worn jeans and warm hoodie that he usually wore around the house—perfect for working in the basement. He glanced down at the nice jeans and button down shirt he was wearing and thought maybe he was over dressed. Then he remembered holidays from childhood's past when he would have been wearing a starched stiff suit and tie for dinner with warnings from his parents not to soil his clothes.

"You've got sweats upstairs from the last time you stayed over," Gibbs told him gently, ruffling his hair. "If you don't want to mess up your clothes you can go change and come help me."

Tony nodded and moved up the stairs, quickly changing as instructed and then racing back down to join Gibbs. He stopped short when he realized Gibbs was in the kitchen with Senior.

"Remember that talk we had the other night," Gibbs was saying. "Please remember what I told you."

Tony's eyes widened. Gibbs never said please. Ever.

"I remember," Tony's father said. "I cancelled my trip in order to stay here. That should count for something."

He'd cancelled his…Tony's eyes widened. Then Gibbs started talking again.

"It's a start. This is important to Tony. He was really worried about you with this case. You realize he put his job on the line to get the clue that saved you."

Senior sounded uncomfortable. "He put his job…why would he do that?"

"Yes he did. He disobeyed direct orders from Director Vance in order to help you. He thought of something none of us had thought of. And…I'll admit we were all pretty busy because we were an agent down…we weren't listening to his theories—he wasn't supposed to be working on this case—he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near it. But he defied that and he did it to save your ass."

"What were Director Vance's orders?"

"That he wasn't supposed to go near you or this case. Vance tried to get him to take a couple of personal days, but he wouldn't do it. He couldn't let it go."

"I had no idea," Senior said softly. "I…I don't understand…why would he do that?"

"Because you're his father. Because he actually gives a damn about you. Because he wants your approval. There's a thousand reasons. Take your pick."

Tony used that moment to step into the kitchen. He couldn't listen to anymore and he knew the conversation would end once he made his presence known. He quickly took in the firm stare from Gibbs, the uneasy shifting gaze from Senior and Tony felt his still-tender stomach flip once again.

"Everything ok?" He glanced between these two men, wondering how he was going to survive this holiday. Suddenly the thanksgiving pizza and beer alone at his apartment sounded like a good idea.

"Yep," Gibbs said. He turned and headed for the basement.

Tony looked at his dad who smiled. "I um. I'm glad you're here," Tony said softly. He smiled shyly, not knowing how the man would react.

Senior's smile only widened. "I'm glad I'm here too," he said quietly. "Go on," Senior indicated with his head in the direction Gibbs had gone. "Go help him with…whatever it is he does down there."

Tony smiled and nodded. He quickly poured up a cup of black coffee and headed for the basement. Gibbs was already seated at his workbench. Tony set the coffee down and smiled at Gibbs.

"Whatcha making Boss?"

Gibbs was hard at work, sanding and rubbing on a small wooden creation.

"Toys for the children," he said. Every year Gibbs made a whole pile of toys and donated them to either the hospital or the children's home. "Here," Gibbs held out a toy. "Start sanding that one." Tony picked up a piece of the fine sandpaper and began rubbing the toy carefully, moving with the grain of the wood.

They worked in silence, and neither of them noticed as two hours passed. Finally the door to the basement opened and Senior's head appeared at the top of the stairs. "Lunch is ready," he said, watching the two in the basement work so flawlessly together. Some small part of Senior wished he could be that comfortable with Tony, but he knew that likely it would never happen.

Gibbs stood up and headed up the stairs. He looked back at Tony who was dragging his feet. "You comin' DiNozzo?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah Boss…I'm coming."

Gibbs smiled. He knew how uncomfortable Tony was with this whole situation…he knew the younger man was uneasy because he didn't know what to expect. In truth, Gibbs was equally uneasy. He vowed he'd kill Senior if Tony ended up hurt in any way from this.

Gibbs glanced at the kitchen as they walked through and grimaced.

That vow included food poisoning.

xxx

Dinner was surprisingly tasty, the meat was tender and well seasoned, moist and perfectly cooked. The dishes that Senior had prepared to go along with the bird were equally well done. The three men sat and ate in near silence. Tony had no idea what to talk about and Senior and Gibbs…well they didn't have a lot in common.

There was small talk exchanged, compliments on the food, discussions of the case, relief expressed from both of the DiNozzo men that the case had turned out the way it had.

When the meal was over, and leftovers were boxed up and dessert was finished, the three men retired to the living room with cups of coffee. They agreed that later they would work together on the dishes and restoring order to the kitchen. They chatted a bit, but it wasn't long before the turkey coma set in and Tony found himself getting very sleepy. He was warm and comfortable here at Gibbs' house, and his belly was filled with the wonderful food his father had prepared. The two older men watched as Tony dozed off, exhausted from the past few days' events.

"Is he alright," Senior asked softly.

Gibbs carefully shifted Tony so he was lying on the couch with his head on a pillow and pulled a blanket up over his shoulders. Tony blinked his eyes open for a moment, staring blearily at Gibbs.

"It's alright Tony," he said softly. "Take a nap."

Tony nodded and his eyes fell shut again. Gibbs took a moment to run his hand lightly over Tony's hair.

"He's alright Senior," Gibbs said softly. "I'm gonna go to the basement so he can rest some. You gonna sit here?"

"Yeah I'll sit here with him for a bit," Senior said. He held up his cup of coffee in toast, and Gibbs raised his in return before disappearing down the hall to the basement door.

xxx

Senior glanced at his watch. It was late afternoon, and Tony had slept the whole afternoon without even moving on the couch. It was obvious to Senior that Tony was comfortable here, with Gibbs, at his home. It made him feel good to know that his son was so cared for by this gruff man. He hadn't seen Gibbs since he'd disappeared down the stairs hours earlier.

The old man stood and walked almost silently up the stairs. He quietly gathered his things—his very few belongings, since he hadn't planned on a long trip—and then headed back down the stairs. He glanced around, making sure Gibbs wasn't going to jump out of a doorway at him, and then headed for the front door. He spared his son one last glance.

Tony was still sound asleep on the couch, one hand tucked up under his head, the other resting on his forearm, hiding his mouth. The image floored Senior and memories of nights from decades ago filled his memory. Tony always laid like that when he was asleep—had done it since he was a very small child.

Shaking his head, kicking himself for being such a coward, Senior picked up his small bag and walked to the door. The house arrest anklet was gone, and there was nothing holding him here. Well. Almost nothing. But he had a plane to catch and he knew Tony would understand. He'd heard from Prince Ibn Alwaan the night before. A new business prospect was in the works, and Senior wanted to be first in line to sign on.

Senior walked out of Gibbs' house, closing the door quietly behind him, and left without looking back. From the hallway, Gibbs watched him go. It made him sad because he knew it would hurt Tony again when he woke up. Sighing, he quickly refilled his coffee cup and headed to the living room.

He wanted to be there when his boy woke up.

xxx

Gibbs blinked and opened his eyes. He realized it was dark outside and ran a hand over his face wondering what time it was. He pushed the blanket down and looked around. It was the same blanket that he'd covered Tony with that afternoon, and Tony was gone from the couch. Gibbs stood up and folded it carefully. He looked around for his coffee cup, but couldn't find it, so he headed for the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

The kitchen was spotless. All of the dishes were washed and put away. The counters were wiped down, as well as the refrigerator and stove handles. A fresh pot of coffee sat waiting for him, and in the middle of the clean kitchen stood Tony, wringing out the mop, having just cleaned the floor.

"Tony? What are ya doing?" Gibbs looked at the clock. "It's late."

"I know," Tony said softly. "But when I woke up I remembered that we hadn't done the dishes…and that my father…" he trailed off sadly.

"He left this afternoon," Gibbs said softly. "I had just come up from the basement and saw him leave with all of his stuff."

Tony nodded. "Right. Well I couldn't just leave this big mess for you to clean up by yourself…and once I got started…well it went faster than I expected it to," he shrugged. "Figured it was the least I could do for you after this week," Tony said softly.

Gibbs stepped over and took the mop out of Tony's hands. He put his hands gently on Tony's shoulders and smiled at him. "We do what we have to do for family," Gibbs said softly. "You know me benching you had nothing to do with trust, right? I had to. It's procedure."

Tony nodded. "I know," he said softly. "I just…I was so scared I was gonna lose him forever y'know? And I mean…I know you did what you had to do, and I know why you did it…but I just…"

Gibbs pulled Tony in for a gentle hug. "It's alright now," he said softly. He let Tony shudder his fear and anger and stress out and rubbed his hands up and down the young man's back soothingly.

"Did he say where he was going?"

Gibbs shook his head. "He doesn't know I saw him." Tony had an odd look on his face. "You ok?"

Tony nodded. He'd had the holiday he'd always dreamed of—him with his family, eating a festive meal together, everyone getting along even. It had been almost more than he could have hoped for. And then his dad pulled a runner again, packing up and jumping ship while no one was looking. It made the day slightly less bright but somehow…somehow it was alright. Because he was here, and he knew tonight he'd go help Gibbs work on the toys for the kids some more, and he knew that tomorrow they'd watch a game on tv and drink beer and eat turkey sandwich leftovers.

Gibbs would whack him over the back of the head when he needed it, praise him when he needed it, support him when he needed it. Coming from his father it would seem fake or forced, but not with Gibbs. In Tony's world, where there was comfort, support, guidance, advice, friendship, example…love…Tony smiled. It was always Gibbs. Always.

The End!