A/N: So this is my first NCIS fic. It will be kind of AU, kind of OOC, and mucho slashy. Of the Leroy Jethro Gibbs/Anthony DiNozzo variety. But not for a long time. Sooo...enjoy!

EDIT: 18 June 2011 (spelling/grammar fix, sentence rearrangement)

Tony grinned widely as he took in the scenery of Stillwater. He still couldn't believe that he was here, in Gibbs's hometown. He didn't get much time to really let it soak in, though, since Ziva informed him that Gibbs was waiting on him.

He followed McGee's finger and entered the rustic store cautiously. Relaxing at the sight of a familiar-in-a-way face, he smiled again.

The old man at the counter raised an eyebrow, a half-grin flitting across his face. "Hello," the man said slowly, secretly amused.

Tony bounced up to the counter and held his hand up. "Hi, I'm-"

"DiNozzo!"

Whirling around, Tony blanked his face, not wanting Gibbs to see the joy on his face.

"Court order." Gibbs grunted.

Tony held out the sheet of paper in his hand and explained what it was for, all the while shifting his gaze from Jackson Gibbs to his son. "Ah...Winslow residence, Winslow Mining including employees, Nick Kingston...Emily Kingston...Chris...Kingston..."

Jackson spoke up from behind Tony, his voice incredulous. "You got a court order for a five year old?"

"Five and three-quarters," Gibbs corrected, reading over the order. "Have Abby set up here. We'll bring her evidence."

Jackson turned and reached for the Winchester that was hanging on the wall. However when Gibbs reached for it, he pulled it back. "Ah!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed while Tony watched the scene with a fond smile.

"Take Ziva and McGee to the mine; I got the residence," Gibbs ordered, walking off.

Tony stopped him before he could get out the door. "Well, we got a problem, Boss. Er...only one car." He held up his hand with a solitary finger sticking up to illustrate the problem.

Once more, Jackson butt in. "I got a car."

As Tony watched Gibbs and Jackson walk away together, he couldn't help but wonder why Gibbs never mentioned his dad when it was obvious he was so awesome.

-/-

Later that night, after the crime had been solved and Team Gibbs was all ready to head back to D.C., Jackson stopped them.

"Well, now, there ain't no use heading out tonight, is there?" he turned to his son. "It's late and you've all had a long day. You might as well stay here for the night."

Ziva stepped up, a little nervous but determined. "He has a point, Gibbs. McGee and I are still checked in at the motel and I am sure it would not be a problem for Abby to share my bed."

McGee nodded. "If you don't mind, Boss."

Flinching at the never-ending exclusion, Tony stood away from the group, eyes downcast, and stayed silent. Jackson looked at him sadly, then pasted a fake smile on his face.

"And Tony here can stay with me," he finished brightly. At his son's stare, he stopped and amended his statement. "If you choose not to leave tonight, Leroy."

Gibbs swept his eyes over the group and took in their pleading expressions, especially Abby's extreme puppy dog look. "All right," he sighed. "But we're leaving no later then 12:00 tomorrow, understand?"

A chorus of "Yes, Boss"s flooded his ears and he watched as Ziva, Abby, and McGee raced out the door. Gibbs then turned to Tony. "Looks like you wasted the trip up here, DiNozzo."

"Yeah," Tony's voice cracked as Gibbs turned to walk out. "Looks like."

The door shut behind the man and Tony turned to Jackson. "It was nice of you to offer, Jackson, really, but I'm sure there wouldn't be a problem with me bunking with McGee."

"No," Jackson said as he scrutinized Tony's half-defeated look. "Of course there isn't. That's why the offer was never put on the table. You always let them treat you like that, son?"

Opening his mouth, Tony realized that the honest answer to that question wasn't quite what he wanted to say. He sighed and sat at the table, putting his head in his hands.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Jackson, pulling out another chair and sitting down across from the younger man. "And Leroy too?"

"What about...uh..." Tony grinned slightly. "Leroy?"

Jackson laughed, "Betcha like not calling him 'Boss', don't you?"

Tony kept grinning, feeling a little safer, a little happier, around the older Gibbs than he had in a long time. "It is fun, but I never try to do it when we're in a Boss/DiNozzo situation."

Laughing again, Jackson's face got serious. "You know what I mean, Tony. Do you always let Leroy treat you like his pet? And I don't mean in the kinky kind of way."

Flushing darkly, Tony gaped at Jackson, who just raised his eyebrows. "Why, Jackson Gibbs, I'm shocked! Did you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I may be old, son, but I'm certainly not blind," Jackson growled playfully. "I can see how times are changing."

The silly grin that had slipped onto Tony's face dropped a little while the happiness in his eyes died. "Yeah," he said quietly, a wistful sadness lacing his words. "They are, aren't they?"

Jackson nodded shortly and watched as Tony shifted uneasily. "Hey now, this ain't an interrogation. You can relax."

"It's just...these chairs aren't that comfortable and the way you're sitting across from me makes it feel like it is. An interrogation, I mean."

"Well, come on," Jackson ordered, standing from his own chair. "Let's go to my place and get comfortable."

"There's that mouth again," Tony quipped lightly, enjoying the freedom he felt around the older Gibbs.

Jackson turned slowly from where he had his hand on the door. "Do you enjoy almost giving me a heart attack, boy?" he asked, shocked. "If I were a bit younger, I'd let you see just what this mouth can do."

And with that, he pushed his way out of the store, Tony following behind, laughing hysterically.

-/-

"So," Jackson began, setting a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of Tony.

Tony cracked open his heavy eyes and smiled in thanks, grabbing the cup and letting it simply warm his hands for a minute. He sighed, relaxing into the plush couch, and said, "So, what?"

Jackson settled in beside him with his own cup of cocoa. "What's your story?"

"What do you mean?"

Turning towards the boy fully, Jackson gave him an intense look that reminded Tony of the younger Gibbs.

So he sighed and let it all out. He told Jackson about his mother with her alcoholism and sailor suits, his father with his superiority complex and poverty, and how they both hated him enough to beat him and send him away. He talked about his terrible years at military school, and later college. His dreams of pro sports was briefly glossed over as he went into his years at Peoria, then Philadelphia, then Baltimore.

With a small, sad smile, he told Jackson about meeting the younger Gibbs for the first time. He talked about their two years as a two-man team and how much he had liked it that way. Then he touched on his time with the plague and how he had thought that was the end, but when Gibbs had ordered him not to die, he couldn't not obey.

A tissue box made its way into Tony's lap as he talked about Kate, their sibling rivalry, how he would always miss her, and how much he wished he had gotten the chance to tell her what she meant to him. He talked about McGee and how he always felt a little frightened around the Junior Agent because it constantly felt like he was trying to take Tony's job. Talking about Ziva brought up all the horrible memories of that stupid dinner party and Israel and how he couldn't trust her now, if he ever could. He barely touched on Abby and how they were close but he couldn't tell her anything really important because she would run and tell Gibbs.

Then he wound the conversation down to happier, more enjoyable memories, of which there were few. He told Jackson hilarious stories about his and Fornell's unexpected friendship, his slow nights with Jimmy Palmer, and the occasional game of chess with Ducky.

"...so even if it gets bad, I know that at least half of them are there for me," Tony finished, balling a tissue in his hand. He felt as if he could just cry for hours more, but there wasn't any tears left.

"Oh, Tony..." Jackson wrapped his arms around the lean younger man and brought him into a tight embrace. "I'm so proud of you. You've been through so much and still haven't given up."

"I can't," Tony croaked into Jackson's shoulder, his throat dry and raw from talking so much. "Gibbs...he won't let me."

Jackson pulled back and tipped Tony's head up so that they would be looking eye to eye. "I noticed you didn't talk about him much."

"There isn't much to say," Tony replied, looking away and trying to brush it off.

"While there might not be much to say, there's obviously something."

Tony fingered a small rip in the couch's upholstery. "Only one thing."

He shivered slightly and tried to steel himself. He had already told Jackson so much, why not tell him this last thing?

A strong, wrinkled hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You don't have to tell me, Tony. I already know."

Tony eyed Jackson warily, his body tense. "And?"

Jackson contemplated it seriously, running a finger over the rim of his long cold mug of cocoa. "I think Leroy must be blind and stupid not to see that you love him. I think that you would be good for him, but I'm not sure he's the best for you. You need someone who deserves you, Tony."

A sheen of tears appeared over Tony's eyes and he opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say. Thankfully, Jackson came to the rescue again.

"And," he said, standing and wincing as his knees popped. "I think it's way past your bed time. Up the stairs, second door on the left. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I'll just clean up down here before I head up there." He motioned to the half-empty mugs and the crumpled tissues that littered the couch.

Tony, deciding to just put the whole night behind him, smirked slyly and said, "Only if you were younger, Jack."

Jackson laughed heartily and swiped at him with his hand. "Away with you! We'll talk in the morning."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Tony reached the top before calling back down. "Oooh, I've never been very good at morning afters."

The laughter put such a happy smile on Tony's face that it stayed there all through the night.

-/-

The next morning, Tony bounced down the stairs energetically, feeling the effects of a restful night of sleep for the first time in a long time. As he reached the bottom, he was greeted with Jackson's smiling face and a white sweater.

"Here," Jackson said, helping Tony put on the sweater. "This will keep you warm through the chilly morning. Go ahead and keep it, just to have a little piece of me with you back in D.C."

Tony fingered the light, fluffy fabric and tried futilely to speak around the lump that appeared in his throat. "Th...thanks, Jack."

"No problem, son," Jackson said, smiling at him proudly.

And later that day, as the team drove away from the little glimpse of Gibbs's past, Tony couldn't bring himself to feel like he was really leaving. Especially when he looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the wave that he instinctively knew Jackson was sending for his benefit.

'Don't worry, Jack,' Tony thought as he remembered his last private conversation with Gibbs's dad. 'I won't forget to call when I get home.'

A/N: So didja like it? Please REVIEW and tell me if you did. It gives inspiration.

~S.