Okay, so I suppose I should not have started another story before finishing the first one, but please forgive me. I have every intention of going back to 'Everyday' after this one little story here. Right now, this is a one shot. I do plan on expanding upon it as soon as the other story is done. This just sort of hit me square in the face today, and I had to get it out of my system. I will concentrate on 'Everyday' after this, I promise all my faithful readers. I do though, hope you enjoy this, and depending on your response, it will be continued.

As is known the world over, I do not own NCIS...blah...blah...blah...don't sue.

This is goint to be wildley AU. I've had to move some ages around to fit my purposes. But I think what I've come up with is actually plausiable. Forgive me, it's the little Tony/Gibbs Father/Son lover in me.

Rating is most likely a K. Just a few bad words here and there. No real spoilers. I don't know what we are going to find out when Tony's dad finally makes his long awaited apperence, but despite my deepest fantasies, I don't think we will find out anything like this. Ah...if only I wrote for NCIS.

Tony sat at his desk staring down at the plain manila envelope that had been delivered to him that morning. It lay on top of the desk calendar that McGee had given to him last Christmas, saying it might help him with his tendency to double book his appointments.

Ha-ha, Probie. So he booked both a teeth cleaning and an eye examine for the same day and time what…Once?

Tony used the thing mostly for a doodle pad. It was filled with silly, badly drawn caricatures of his co-workers. Tim in tights and a cape with the words 'Super McGeek' written across it, Ziva in a cat suit wielding a large knife. Not Kate quality, but good enough to get a interested 'humph' from Gibbs before he delivered a swat to the back of Tony's head and told him to get back to work.

He was alone in the office. Even the cleaning crew had left for the night. Raul, the floor cleaner, had given him a strange look when he didn't so much as stir from his seat while the buffer was going. Tony had simply sat there, staring at a stupid envelope that should not cause the anxiety that was making his hands shake every time he tried to slit open the sealed flap. His letter opener kept slipping from his fingers, and at one point almost landed point first into the toe of his leather shoe. To save both his footwear and his toes, Tony thought it best if he put the sharp instrument safely out of the way.

For gods sake, it was just an envelope. It shouldn't cause so much fear. It was, in fact, simply the carrying case for what was the real reason for his nervousness. The papers inside of the paper. Papers he had been waiting on for 22 years of his life. He had fought for these. Making connections, currying favors, and generally kissing ass for most of his life to gain possession of them. They should not frighten him so much.

But, damn it, every time he reached for the thing he felt like he was going to hurl.

He looked at the return address written in a neat hand in the upper left hand corner.

Gregory A. Ellinson, Esq, Attorney at Law.

He'd known Greg for 10 years now, ever since he had seriously begun the search. He was an old timer, ready for retirement, but holding on for dear life. He considered Tony to be his surrogate grandson, and even had him over for family birthdays and the occasional holiday when Tony could manage to get away. He liked Greg, appreciated him for all the help he'd given him over the years. He had always been on Tony's side for this. He couldn't turn his back on all the hard work the old man had done. He'd finally delivered the papers Tony needed. The papers he'd wanted since he was 12 years old and his Father, in a fit of rage, blurted out the truth that had speared the young Tony like a sword.

And yet he still couldn't do it. Couldn't open the thing and look at the truth.

God, what a coward he was.

He stood and slipped on the warm leather coat he had bought to protect himself from the particularly cold weather that was starting to invade the Washington area. Ducky had drilled it into his head that he had to keep himself warm in such weather. Wear layers, wrap a scarf around his neck, get a hat…yadda yadda yadda. He'd heard it all before. Damn plague. There was a time in his life he could run outdoors in the middle of winter with nothing on but a tee shirt and jeans to get his mail, now he couldn't even open a window without protecting himself, lest he get a cough that would have Ducky dragging him to the hospital.

He picked up the manila envelope, his eyes glued to it as he walked to the elevator. He felt like a child. It was stupid to feel this way. He should just open it, read it, find out all the secrets that had been kept from him for all these years. But…what then? What if it only created more questions then it did answers? Tony didn't think he could stand more questions, more secrets. He'd had enough of both in the life to last forever.

He didn't really know exactly where he was heading as he made his way down to the parking garage and into his car. Didn't think about it as he headed out and drove right past the turn that would have taken him to his apartment. Didn't even know he was going there until he sat outside the house of Gibbs, engine running and fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

What the hell was he doing? He didn't want to bother Gibbs with this. It wasn't as though the man would care all that much. This was Tony's problem, and he should take care of it, not burden himself on another simply because he was too much a wuss to face up to it.

He was about to pull away when a tap on his window made him jump straight up. If he hadn't of been strapped down by the seat belt, he might have hit his head on the car roof. A twist of his head showed him Gibbs, standing outside of the passenger window, looking down at him with his customary blank face. He raised one hand, winding one finger around in the air. Tony, knowing what he wanted, pushed the button that made the passenger window go down. Gibbs leaned in, elbows resting on the edge of the door.

"Gonna sit out here all night, DiNozzo? It's cold. Don't want to get Ducky on your ass, do you?"

Tony just shook his head.

"Alright then. Get inside."

Gibbs turned around and walked up his front steps and into the house, leaving the door standing open for Tony to follow.

He slowly got out of the car, his fingertips holding the edge of the envelope as he slowly made his way into Gibbs's house. He was sure his Boss was confused about what he was doing here. Hell, Tony was confused about what he was doing here. It wasn't a conscious decision. His car just somehow ended up there. Like it drove itself. Tony didn't think that was possible, unless his car had suddenly turned into KITT. But then again, he hadn't heard his car talking to him lately, and if he did he would be certain he'd finally lost all his marbles.

"DiNozzo!" Tony heard his Boss shouting from inside the house, and realized he had been standing on the front stoop, not moving and staring blankly into outer space. God, maybe he really had lost it. It would explain a whole heck of a lot.

He entered the inner sanctum, as they all called Gibbs's living room, and found his Boss waiting for him on the couch. Tony blinked in surprise that for once Gibbs could not be found down in his basement building another boat. He still hadn't figured out how Gibbs had gotten the last one out of there. It had somehow ended up in the possession of Mike Franks, until Abby took a chain saw too it. He had forgotten to ask her how Gibbs took that news, cause the arrival of the envelope took away all of his attention.

Gibbs sat facing him, a bottle of something or other and two glasses resting on the coffee table before him.

"Sit down." Gibbs ordered.

Tony did as requested, plopping down on the sofa with a soft 'oomph'. The envelope in his lap stared back up at him like a cobra ready to strike. He looked from it, to the bottle sitting enticingly in front of him. God, he really could use a drink right now. Gibbs, in his weird mind reading way, opened the bottle and poured a shot into each glass, handing one to Tony. He sipped at his own drink as he looked at his senior field agent, who just watched the liquid swish around in the glass like he was fascinated by the amber color.

"It's liquor, DiNozzo, Not a piece of art."

Tony took a drink, "I wouldn't say that."

At least it seemed to have loosened his tongue. He took another sip, letting the alcohol warm him from inside out. He really did seem to have caught something of a chill. That was just great. Hopefully he'd be able to stave off the usual beginning of winter cold he seemed to always catch as soon as November hit. Yeah, fat chance of that.

"So," Gibbs said, studying his agent like he was a specimen in Abby's lab, "You going to talk?"

"About what?" He fingered the envelope , flicking the two metal tabs that held it closed. Why did they use those anymore? They still sealed the envelope with glue. What was the use of the tabs?

"About why you haven't taken your eyes off that thing all day. What's in there, DiNozzo?"

Tony sighed and turned it over to look at his name on the front again, written on top of the Navy Yard address. He didn't know why they had sent it to him there. Perhaps cause he was at work more then he ever was at home. Greg would have known that.

"My life." Was his answer. Gibbs's gaze narrowed at the words. His gut clenched, and he knew that the news held in that seemingly innocent envelope would be somehow life changing for Tony. Maybe for everyone.

"DiNozzo." He said, drawing Tony's eyes to meet his. "You feeling okay?"

"What?" Tony blinked. "Oh…oh no, Boss. Not that. I'm good. Not a plague thing."

"Oh. Okay. Good. Then what?"

"I…I'm …My life is in here, Boss. My real life. The life I never got, and I'm….I'm too much of a coward to open it."

"What in the hell are you talking about, DiNozzo." He felt like smacking his hand across the back of Tony's head, anything to break him out of this fog he seemed to be lost in. He'd been distracted all day, and it hadn't escaped Gibbs's notice. He always noticed everything about his agents. Tony had just not been Tony all that day. Even Ziva and McGee had taken notice of the change.

"These are my birth records, Boss." Tony finally said after taking a deep breath. "They've been closed for all this time. I've wanted them for as long as I can remember, and now that I've got them…I don't know what to do with them."

"Birth records?" Gibbs echoed, becoming more confused by the moment. Tony wasn't making any sense. "Why would your birth records be closed. You had to have your birth certificate copied when you joined NCIS."

"That was the altered one, Boss."

"Altered?" Gibbs wanted to throttle Tony now. Had one of his agents presented false documents to the government?

"Don't worry." Tony said, picking up on his Boss's thoughts as easily as he seemed to read Tony's. "They're legal. They always alter birth records after a closed adoption."

"Closed adoption?"

"You're beginning to sound like a parrot, Boss. You going to repeat everything I say?"

"DiNozzo, I swear, if you don't just come out with it, I will shoot you."

"Nice, Boss, kick a guy when he's down."

Gibbs sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Sometimes dealing with Tony was like trying to reel in a 50 pound Bass. The more he pulled, the more Tony tugged, until either the line would break or they'd both end up in the water. It was clear to him that his agent had come to him for a reason, but Gibbs was not about to fight for the information.

"Just tell me what you are talking about, DiNozzo. I'm not in the mood for riddles."

" I'm adopted." He said it like he was at a support group. 'Hello. My name is Tony. I'm adopted.'

"How long have you know that?" Gibbs said, hiding his surprise. He hadn't know that. So much for his investigative skills. In all the research he had done about the former Baltimore detective before he hired him, the fact that he was adopted hadn't been found.

"Since I was 12."

Twelve. The age at which he had been disowned by his so-called father, and shipped off to Rhode Island Military Academy. He'd know this since he was 12?

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Gibbs asked, poring another shot for Tony without asking. The younger man drank it down in one gulp.

"Not something that usually comes up in casual conversation. Besides, my father always treated it like some great big secret that no one could ever know about. He only told me because he was drunk at the time and I had just broken his crystal decanter."

*You worthless piece of crap!* He recalled his father yelling on that fateful day. *We should have left you to rot with your little slut of a birth mother!*

Not the words a trembling 12 year old holding his stinging red cheek is expecting to hear.

"Ah hell, Tony."

"Let's not get into that, Boss. Not the real point here." He waved the envelope in front of Gibbs's face. "I've been trying to get a hold of these since I was 18. Closed adoptions are difficult to work around. All records are sealed and nothing short of a act of God, or at least a court order, can get them released."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything? I could have helped you."

Tony shrugged. "I've been doing it on my own for so long, I just didn't think about it. Besides, I have a lawyer. He's been helping me for about 10 years. He finally came through."

"So, why haven't you opened it then, if you've been waiting so long?"

"Because apparently I'm something of a pussy who is afraid to face the truth. I've been Anthony DiNozzo my whole life. I don't know how to be anything else."

"A few papers aren't going to change who you are."

"It's just…" He turned the envelope over and over in his hands. "I'm scared too, Boss. What if what I find out is worse then what I know."

His head jerked forward with the force of the hand slamming against the back of his head. Tony snapped his eyes up to his Boss, his hand reaching back to touch the now sore spot left by the blow.

"Quit being stupid, DiNozzo. Now open the damn thing. That is an order."

He knew better then to ignore a direct order by Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He'd tried that in the past, and the consequences where never good. With shaking fingers, he pulled the tabs back and tore through the sealed flap. Several pages were pulled out, legal notarized copies of birth and adoption papers. Shuffling through them he saw his father's and mother's signatures on the certificate of adoption. A lawyers name appeared on the bottom, along with a signature from a K. T. Harrington. It was noted as the signature of the legal guardian. His, he supposed. The adoption decree was long, and filled with legal jargon that he couldn't and didn't want to make out. Again, on the last page he saw K.T. Harrington's signature, along with that of Michael and Vivian DiNozzo. All witnessed, notarized, and nice and legal.

The last paper among the pile held his attention. He stared at it the longest. Two black smudges that he recognized from all his years as a law officer as prints where on the bottom of the paper. Baby foot prints. HIS baby foot prints. He touched a hand to one of them. They were so small. He leaned back against the couch and read his real birth certificate.

"Well?" Gibbs asked after awhile.

Tony lowered the paper and rubbed at his suddenly tired eyes. It was a lot to take in, and he felt very rundown. "Well, I know that I've been observing my birthday on the wrong date all these years."

"What?" Gibbs gave a small laugh. He noticed that Tony said observing, not celebrating. In all the years he had know the kid, he'd never known Tony to celebrate his birthday.

"Yep." Tony said, his eyes on the paper once again. "In fact, I'm a year younger then I thought."

"You've got to kidding me?" He took the paper from Tony's limp hands and read it over .

Baby Boy Harrington…no name given…born March 17, 1974.

"I'll be damned." Gibbs said. "1974? You would have been what when you graduated high school? 16?"

"Guess so." Tony said, without too much emotion. He sounded drained, and Gibbs cast an eye over him. He looked tired, and his hands shook so much Gibbs was surprised he could hold onto the glass he now held to his lips. "My father must have put me into kindergarten when I was 4. Probably to get me away from him. Not too much of a surprise. He would have just had the altered birth certificate altered again to make me into a 5 year old."

Gibbs cursed the man he had never met once again. How Tony became the man he did after being raised by that son of a bitch, he would never know. "I suppose its all still legal?"

"If it wasn't, he could have found away around it. He's kind of good at stuff like that."

"Bucking the system?"

"Or just screwing with it. Whichever."

Tony reached for the certificate again, but not before Gibbs had thoroughly read the document. His eyes landed on the name of Tony's birth mother. The document was slipped from his suddenly weak fingers and he barely heard Tony when he started reading it out loud. It was only the name that made him snap back into reality.

"Emily Harrington. Guess that was her, huh Boss? Man, she was only 16. No wonder she didn't keep me. Her parents probably wouldn't let her. I wonder if K.T. Harrington is a relative. Her mom or dad?"

When he didn't receive a response from him, Tony raised his eyes to see his Boss rubbing a hand against his temple. "You okay, Boss."

"Fine, DiNozzo…Tony…just a headache. Too much too drink."

Tony frowned. "Since when? You've always been able to hold your liquor better then anyone."

"Not getting any younger." He said. "You going to stay or go. It's late, and I don't want Ducky on the warpath after me if I let you out into the cold again. Spare room is yours if you want it."

Tony did feel worn out. He couldn't face the drive home tonight. It wouldn't be the first time he'd crashed at Gibbs's place on the spur of the moment. He had a lot to take in tonight. It was easier to take in with Gibbs beside him then he thought it would have been alone. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Go on then. I'll clean up. See you in the morning."

Tony stood up stiffly. "Boss," He said, before moving down the hallway toward the bedrooms. "Thanks."

Gibbs just nodded. He watched as Tony moved away, papers in hand that had managed to do exactly what Gibbs had felt they would. Change Tony's life.

Change Gibbs's life.

Emily Harrington. He remembered that name. Oh yeah, did he remember that name.