Title: Outside Perspective

Characters: Tim, Tony, Jethro the Dog and Admiral McGee

Genre: Romance, Drama, Slash.

Rating: FR15

Pairings: Established McNozzo

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Episode Tag: Devil's Triangle

Challenge: Boy's Wrapped in Plot

Summary: Tim and Tony's peaceful afternoon is interrupted when they get an unexpected visitor after the Armed Forces football game.

The game was still going strong, it seemed like none of the spectators in the stands had heard the gunshots from above the VIP box. Tim McGee weaved through people of all ages, waiting in lines for vendors or restrooms, as he made his way back to the main gate. He met the security officers Gibbs had called halfway there and, after flashing his badge, directed them towards the box.

It would be easier to wheel the two bodies down several flights of stairs then it would be to bring them through a large crowd of people. The security officers would clear the VIP entrance for them to exit from there.

At the main gate he waved his badge again and was allowed through. The MCRT's truck was parked close, in the emergency vehicle parking. The agency sedan Gibbs and Fornell had followed in was parked beside it. Tim pulled the truck keys from his pocket and quickly unlocked the back door. He climbed inside, peeling off his overcoat and shoving it through the small window into the front seat. Grabbing his backpack he pulled out his standard issue black NCIS jacket.

As he shrugged it on he climbed back outside the truck. He visually scanned the parking lot, watching for the NCIS Medical Examiner's van. Ducky and Jimmy had left the Navy Yard a short time after the team. Hopefully Jimmy hadn't gotten lost on the way to the stadium and he and Ducky would be getting there soon.

While he waited Tim gathered the team's backpacks and made sure the evidence kits were well stocked. Anything to keep his mind off what was happening in the stadium behind him. What could have happened.

Even before Gibbs had asked he had been wondering who the distinguished visitors were. The second he and Tony exited the tunnel into the stands his eyes had been drawn to the box. In the distance he could see the Officers but he'd been to far away to pick out any distinguishing features.

Couldn't see if he was with them.

Tim couldn't imagine the Admiral missing it though, the Navy was playing after all. But when he pulled up the VIP list and saw Admiral Theodore McGee listed he had been shocked still. It was only Tony's firm and supporting grip on his shoulder that brought him back to himself and moving.

His father was here. For the first time in seven years Tim was knowingly in the same building. And if Gibbs had been any slower Admiral Theodore McGee, Tim's father, and everyone else in that box would be dead by now.

Tim collapsed against the trucks bumper, his head in his hands. Was it really just last month that he had spoken to his father? It seemed so unbelievable now, as if that night had been a dream. Even before they had stopped speaking seven years ago Tim and the Admiral hadn't spoken civilly to one another.

Every weekend since Tim had hovered over his phone, fighting to work up the courage to call again. Or, miracle of miracles, answer the phone if his father called him first.

The first few times Tony caught him hovering over his phone the older man had joked and pulled his lover's attention to other activities. After the fourth weekend in a row Tony had offered to dial the number for him.

The sound of Ducky's van approaching pulled Tim from his thoughts. As Jimmy pulled up beside the truck Tim stepped into his line of sight, motioning for him to pull closer and stay in the cab. After they were pulled up close Tim grabbed his and Tony's backpacks, circling to open the sliding side door of the van. Tossing the packs inside he leaned forward to speak as the Medical Examiner and his assistant turned towards him.

"The bodies are up behind the VIP box. Gibbs wants to bring 'em down through the VIP entrance instead of wheeling them through all the people in the tunnel."

"That is a wise idea Timothy," called Ducky. "We wouldn't want to cause a panic," he turned back round in his seat. "I remember attending a rugby game in my youth. Some hooligan set fire to the visitor stands and the panicking people resembled a herd of stampeded cattle as they fled."

Tim slipped out, returning to the truck. Slinging Ziva's pack over a shoulder he grabbed three heavy evidence kits. Sitting the kits on the ground he closed the van and, after checking that he had the keys, locked it. Grabbing the kits he got back into the van, sliding the door shut behind him. He leaned against the back of the driver's seat, giving Jimmy detailed instructions to the VIP parking lot and sat back against the closed door.

In the cab Duck continued his story, every now and then Jimmy would chime in with a question. Leaning his head back against the cool metal wall of the van Tim took a few deep relaxing breaths.

He had to stay calm. He couldn't allow himself to get worked up over this. The Admiral was fine, Gibbs and Fornell had stopped Pearce and his partner. The virus wasn't released, his father was fine he repeated to himself. Tim sighed and opened his eyes. Leaning forward he corrected the younger man just as he was about to take a wrong turn.

"Your other left Jimmy."

He had to pull himself together. Couldn't show Gibbs that this case was affecting him, that anything was wrong. The danger was past. Everything was fine.

-NCIS-

Climbing the stairs didn't end up being necessary. The VIP parking lot was conveniently equipped with a VIP elevator. With the space taken up by two gurney's Tim let Ducky and Jimmy ride up first. Waiting with the packs and evidence kits at his side as he watched the elevators display as the car descended back to the parking lot.

When the shiny double doors slid open the car was empty. Tim stuck a leg inside, to trip the sensor and keep the doors from closing as he transferred his load into the car. When everything was loaded he stepped inside, allowing the doors to close behind him as he pressed the button for the VIP box.

He wasn't expecting the ambush the second the elevator arrived.

A sea of crisp pressed uniforms surged forward like an oncoming tide. Medals flashed as angry men called for his attention all at once.

"What is NCIS doing…"

"I heard gunshots, I know a firefight when I hear one!"

"I demand an explanation!"

"Why had NCIS cut off access above the VIP box?"

Tim resisted the urge to punch the button for another level. Slowly he slung the three backpacks onto his shoulders and picked up the evidence kits. The officers didn't move an inch as he stepped off the elevator.

"I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee. Yes, there was a situation but NCIS has it under control. If you'll excuse me, that's all I'm at liberty to discuss right now."

Tim tried to slide around the group. But they weren't ready to allow him escape yet.

"Now listen here young man…"

"…top military brass…"

"…Higher clearance than you I'd wager!"

"Did he say his name was McGee?"

Then a sound heard above the others.

"Timothy? What's going on?"

He almost dropped the evidence kits in shock.

Officers stepped back out of the way as a tall, lean man in an Admiral's uniform stepped forward. Theodore McGee hadn't changed much in the seven years he had been out of his son's life. A few more wrinkles on his sun weathered face, a bit more salt and pepper in his dark brown hair. An almost identical pair met Tim's wide green eyes as they took in the state of his son after seven years.

"Dad…"

It had been one thing to wonder over his father's attendance, another to know that he could have died. But seeing the Admiral, standing tall and back straight, Tim couldn't help mentally super imposing an image of the man dead. Bleeding from every orifice like the men in autopsy. Shaking his head to banish the image Tim cleared his throat as he stepped forward.

"Admiral. NCIS will release a statement later, but for now I need to get to the crime scene."

Tim readjusted his grip, drawing the Admirals attention to the load he carried. The older man's eyes narrowed.

"Eight years working there and NCIS still has you schlepping bags? What was the point of getting a Masters degree if this was what you wanted to do with your life?"

Instantly Tim felt the old arguments rising in his throat. After all this time the Admiral still considered his job worthless. His career choice unsatisfactory!

Tim clamped his jaw shut, cutting off the practiced retort before it could pass his lips. He shouldered past his father, heading for the stairs that would give him access to the crime scene.

"I am an NCIS Special Agent on the Major Case Response Team. NCIS will release a statement about the situation later. I suggest everyone return to the game."

He broke through the crowd of uniforms and sent up a silent prayer that he reach the stairs unhindered. Just as he reached the foot of the stairs a hand reached out, snagging his elbow in a bruising grip. Tim was pulled back so fast he almost lost his balance as well as his grip on the evidence kits. The hand turned him to face Theodore McGee's fierce scowl.

"Don't you walk away while I'm talking to you young man! We deserve answers now!"

Tim was drawing breath to respond, most likely in some fashion he would later regret, when a familiar voice and loud footsteps echoed down the stairwell.

"Hey McGenius! What's taking so long? I think the Bossman and Fornell are going to blow a gasket if you don't explain what Abby's going on about."

Tony came quickly down the stairs and Tim couldn't remember a time he had been happier to see him. Tony had also shed his overcoat, exposing his gun and badge for everyone to see. His face was bright when he saw Tim but when he caught sight of the Admirals tight grip on Tim's elbow his eyes hardened. Tony prowled forward, sizing the other man up as his fingers twitched towards his Sig.

His sea green eyes shone with recognition as they lit upon the Admiral's face. A smile forced itself onto his lips as his body appeared to relax. But Tim could still see the tension in his shoulders.

"Special Agent McGee, you are needed topside. Abby's trying to instruct Gibbs how to disconnect the canister. She asked for you but Gibbs wants that thing gone ASAP. Fornell's holding him back for now but who knows how long that will last." Tony's grin became sharp, staring pointedly at the hand on Tim's arm. "You better hurry. You're more likely to disconnect it safely and save us all a bloody and painful death."

The Admiral released Tim immediately. Gratitude shining on his face Tim brushed against Tony as he passed him. The other man's scent, his cologne and the deeper musk that could only be described as Tony, relaxed him further as he trotted up the stairs.

"Like Special Agent McGee was saying; there was a situation but NCIS is on top of it. We've got everything under control. Please return to your ball game. Our statement will be released later."

-NCIS-

"And so the bartender looks back at us and says, "If you boys can disappear before the cops get here the next round'll be on me.""

Tim smiled faintly and managed a weak chuckle. Tony's wide grin didn't falter. Reaching across the bed, over the German Shepherd happily sprawled between them, he poked his lover's cheek.

"Come on, laugh! You know you wanna. The mental image of young Anthony DiNozzo scrambling through a pack of frat boys in drag to be the first out the back door even made Gibbs smile!"

Tim reached up, taking Tony's finger in a loose grip. The older man's grin faltered slightly but he didn't pull away. Tim sighed, stretching his long pajama covered legs down the king sized bed as his head fell back against the headboard. Scooting closer, disturbing the sleeping canine, Tony stretched out his fingers interlocking them with Tim's and lightly squeezing. Tim smiled.

"It's a great story Tony and I appreciate you trying to distract me. To cheer me up." His grip on Tony tightened. "But my dad is on some politician's hit list. I have no idea who it was, how to narrow it down any." Closing his eyes he sighed. "I don't know what to do. Vance specifically told me that he would deal with it. But I feel like I need to tell him. I need to warn him."

When his eyes opened again Tony sat up and shoved Jethro out of the way. Grumbling the dog moved and Tony pulled Tim tightly against his chest. His bright green eyes were distraught and confused. Rubbing his back in gentle circles Tony rested his chin on top of Tim's head.

"If Vance said he'd take care of it then it's been taken care off. When that man sets out to do something, it gets done." He paused a moment, drawing on an appropriate memory. "Remember the Christmas decorations? I don't think those things had seen the light of day since before Morrow was in office."

Tim laughed his breath warming Tony's bare chest.

"Gibbs would've been perfectly happy to put up that ratty looking tinsel. Remember? The next morning it was all replaced with new shiny stuff. I heard from the night-shift that his whole family came in to hang it."

Again Tim laughed, supplying one of his own memories of that Christmas.

"The Director was still working on the stairs when I got in that morning, I asked if he needed any help. He was chewing on that toothpick and told me that he wanted it done right so he was going to do it himself."

Tony laughed. Tightening his grip he rolled just enough that Tim was pulled on top of him. He laughed as Tony's fingers danced over his ticklish sides. Tony's grin widened as Tim struck back, long fingers searching for Tony's ticklish feet, distraction successful.

Tickling quickly developed into wrestling. Wrestling just as quickly developed into caressing and breathless kisses. Jethro sighed from the edge of the bed before trotting out of the room as he decided he wouldn't be allowed back up for some time.

Twisting their legs together Tony rolled again, this time coming out on top. Tim's skin was flushed beautifully and warm as he trailed his fingers across it. Leaning forward he kissed his way up Tim's neck, pausing to nip lightly at the curve of his jaw. Tim moaned, eyelids fluttering closed over eyes with pupils blown wide.

"I thought we were going to watch a movie tonight."

Tony shivered, Tim's voice had taken on a husky tone that drove him nuts.

"Well, we can't start the movie without the pizza. Soon as the pizzaman get's here I'll probably leave you alone. No promises though."

The doorbell rang at that precise moment. Tony sighed.

"Speak of the devil and he will appear."

Tim nodded, his lips brushing against the soft skin behind Tony's ear.

"You should probably go get that," he whispered.

Tony made to roll away but Tim's arms kept him in place.

"Well I would but it looks like someone doesn't want me to leave."

Tim sighed, leaning away as he released Tony. Tony bounced off the bed still grinning. At the front door Jethro was barking menacingly, he always seemed to take offense to the presence of the pizzaman. The bell rang a second time. Tony brushed a kiss against Tim's forehead.

"Go ahead and put Shrek in the DVD player. I'll be back with the pizza and the beer."

Tony grabbed his wallet from his pants pocket on his way out of the bedroom. He didn't bother grabbing a shirt, the pizza place always sent the same guy to deliver to them, it wasn't anything the guy hadn't seen before.

The apartment that Tim lived in now was larger than his old one. There was a second bedroom that he used to store his computers and other hardware. That left the living room free for a large sofa. Somehow he had gained a second bookshelf and enough books to fill it, Tony didn't seem to realize that half the bookshelf was filled with his movies. The bookshelves acted as a barrier to separate the writing nook from the rest of the living room.

The bell rang again and Tony moved a little quicker, pulling money out of his wallet as he walked.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming. Hold your horses." Jethro was still at the door, head and tail low as he barked and growled alternatively at the man on the other side. "Back up McMutt. I don't know what your problem is, the dude always smells like pizza. You think that'd be a good thing since I know how you feel about pizza."

Tony pulled the door open, still counting out bills.

"Hey, twenty-five even right…"

He looked up and allowed himself to trail off.

Admiral Theodore McGee stared at him blankly for a moment. The man was still in uniform, his cap held in his hands. Tony would have normally made a joke. If he hadn't been standing in this man's son's doorway in his boxers and nothing else he would have.

He froze, mouth open, gaping like a fish. This was a new situation. Plenty of times he had been in this same situation with men's daughters. This was the first with a man's son. The Admiral coughed quietly and Tony brought himself back to his senses.

"Um, hi. Can I help you?"

Admiral McGee didn't look scandalized, Tony thought. That was a plus.

"Yes, I was looking for Timothy. I got his address from the office. Is he here?"

"I'm here dad."

Tim came quietly out of the bedroom, pulling a shirt on over his head as he walked. As relieved as he was to see him Tony wished he could make a quick exit. He stepped back out of the doorway, holding it open.

"Why don't you come in?" After the elder McGee was inside Tony closed the door. For a moment there was silence. Tony could feel it grating on his nerves. "Why don't I just go and…get dressed."

He ducked back into the bedroom, grabbing up his jeans and searching frantically for his shirt.

"I hadn't meant to catch him with his pants down."

The older man seemed amused. Tony sighed. Amused was good. Amused was less likely to turn into homicidal rage.

When he reentered the living room both McGee's were standing awkwardly in front of the sofa. Jethro stalked around the Admiral, sniffing everywhere he could reach with his nose. His ears remained flat and his tail was still.

"Why don't I take Jethro out for a walk? That okay Tim?"

Tim shot him a quick look that was a mixture of fear and gratitude. Tony stayed for a moment, unsure if Tim wanted him to leave or not. Seeing his indecision Tim smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds good Tony. We'll watch that movie when you get back."

Tony nodded, glad to have the out. He walked to the door, quickly sliding his feet into his shoes and calling for the dog. Jethro came reluctantly, glancing back at the stranger and curling his lip in warning. Tony grabbed the leash from the wall and the dog brightened considerably, his ears rose and his tail began to wag. Tony sighed, thankful that he wouldn't be pulling a reluctant eighty-pound dog out of the apartment.

"Come on Mutt. Let's give these two some room to talk."

When the door closed behind them Tony paused. He stared at the wood as worry gnawed at his gut. The Admiral had seemed different tonight than he had earlier. Hopefully they wouldn't come home to a screaming match. Jethro tugged on the leash and Tony left the door behind.

"Your Daddy will be fine Jethro. Believe me, you're worrying over nothing. He'll be fine."

He glanced back at the apartment one last time and the dog almost pulled him down the stairs.

-NCIS-

The silence remained for an agonizing moment after the door had closed behind Tony. Tim fought the urge to run to it and call Tony back. He was an adult, he didn't need someone on his six just to talk to his father. So long as the Admiral remained civil so could Tim. The Admiral sighed wearily and collapsed onto the far end of the couch.

"So, you two work together? I saw him at the stadium."

Tim slowly sat on the other side. He didn't know how his father felt about work relationships. Let alone work relationships between two men.

"Uh, yeah. That was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Tony's Senior Field Agent for the MCRT."

The Admiral nodded as he looked around the room. Tim realized for the first time that his father had never been to his apartment. Hadn't been to either of his DC apartments, nor his accommodations at Norfolk. He watched as green eyes, so similar to his own, gazed over his belongings. The shelves and the writing nook behind them were glanced over quickly. The pictures hanging on the walls were lingered on.

Standing the Admiral stepped around the coffee table and made his way to one of Tim's favorite photo's. It had been taken three years ago, when the team had spent Thanksgiving with Ducky. He hadn't been aware of the camera Ducky had set up until the older man had brought the prints taken to work with him. Tim's favorite was the toast, with everyone, even Gibbs, smiling as they clinked their glasses together.

The Admiral studied the photo long enough for Tim to begin to shift nervously in his seat. As if sensing his son's discomfort Theodore moved onto the next photo. The picture Sarah had taken shortly after he had adopted Jethro. The one Tony claimed might be illegal in some states.

"I didn't know that you'd gotten a dog."

Tim nodded, even thought the other man's back was to him.

"Yeah, I adopted him a few years ago. Jethro was a Marine drug sniffer."

The Admiral turned an eyebrow raised.

"Isn't your bosses name Jethro?"

Tim flushed.

"I didn't name him! Jethro's name was Butch and Abby thought he looked more like a Jethro than a Butch. By the time I got him he'd decided he liked being Jethro too and wouldn't answer to anything else."

The Admiral nodded. Again silence reigned. Tim stilled his nervous fidgeting. After a moment he asked,

"Do you want a beer? Something to drink?"

He rose to disappear into the kitchen but the Admiral stepped forward shaking his head.

"No, no I'm fine. Tim. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I should never have acted that way seven years ago or even before that." Tim froze, shocked eyes wide. The Admiral never apologized to anyone other than his mother and his wife. "We're different people you and I. I should respect that, I know. But it's so hard sometimes."

Theodore McGee sat back down heavily, dropping his cap onto the coffee table. Tim sat back down as well. He opened his mouth but no reply came out. Theodore didn't seem to notice. He sat forward, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

"My father and I were two pea's in a pod. I didn't know the right way to raise a boy with your interests. I thought the Navy would keep you straight, like it did for me. I should have noticed I didn't have to worry. By the time other kids your age were getting into trouble you were keeping Sarah out of electric sockets and writing programs on your computer."

Tim swallowed, relaxing in his seat.

"When I was a kid I wanted nothing more than to get over the sea sickness. I wanted you to be proud of me."

Theodore nodded.

"I know, I've never seen a kid try to hard. It always seemed like the more I pushed you the better you got." Again he sighed. "I should have realized you didn't need to be pushed. That if I'd praised you instead…" He trailed off.

Again they sat in silence, but this time it was comfortable. Tim relaxed watching his father closely for the first time in years. Very little about his appearance had changed but the man seemed more tired now. After a brief glance at the door Theodore turned back to his son.

"When I saw you today I was worried. Everyone had heard the shots, when we tried to find out what had happened security stonewalled us. That medical examiner and the gurneys meant there were bodies. When we found out it was NCIS on the scene I was terrified. I couldn't stop imagining you shot just when I was getting my act together." He cut off his words as Tim began to laugh. "What's so funny about me worrying about you?"

Tim's eyes watered and he swiped at them quickly.

"Because, the whole time I was in that stadium, I was worrying about you!"

Theodore chuckled, scooting over the couch until his shoulder brushed his sons.

"Guess we're a little more alike than we both thought huh?"

Tim nodded as the laughter subsided. Theodore was watching the door again a calculating look on his face.

"You're mother's been slipping phamplet's into my briefcase for years." When Tim raised an eyebrow he recited. "'My Son is a Homosexual and I Still Love Him, My Gay Son and Me, and several other variations of the same thing."

Tim's eyes rolled.

"I've told her hundreds of times. I'm not gay!" Theodore arched his eyebrow, glancing back at the door. Tim's eyes narrowed. "Bisexual isn't gay. There've been girls, women."

Theodore nodded.

"I know, I remember that girl at MIT you wanted to impress. The one in the fencing class. But every time I told your mother about the girls I'd remember you and Jeffrey Buchanan." Tim pale skin turn the shade of a beetroot and he quickly looked away. "At the time I was able to convince myself you two were just practicing for wrestling, even though Jeffrey wasn't on the team. Was even less likely to be on team than you were."

Tim nodded, the tips of his ears a bright shade of pink, as he remembered what his father had interrupted. If the man had been a few moments later, after Tim had figured the best way to undo someone else's buttons, there would have been no way he could have passed it off as wrestling.

"Do you remember Captain Stevens?" Tim looked up, curious about the change of subject. Theodore was staring at the Thanksgiving picture again. Tim nodded, Captain Ryan Stevens had served on several ships with his father throughout the years. He and his wife had often joined them for barbecues at Alameda.

"Ryan and his wife separated after he retired. Very amicable about it, split their belongings and funds right down the middle." Brows furrowed he turned to his son. "He's living in Annapolis with a man now."

Tim's eyes widened. Ryan and his wife had always seemed to get along so well!

"Apparently his wife moved in with a woman down in Florida. When he came out I couldn't understand why he didn't tell me. I know Don't Ask Don't Tell was still in act then, but we were best friends. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't tell me." Theodore swallowed. "He thought that I would push him away like I did you."

Another silence reigned. Tim almost stood to put on a jazz record when his father spoke again.

"So that guy, DiNozzo. He's a good guy right? Not…troubling you or anything is he?"

Tim laughed.

"Tony's family's Italian. He flirts with every beautiful woman he sees. That gets a little troubling at times but if he hasn't left me yet, I figure he isn't going too." Theodore nodded.

"Are you two out at work?"

Tim shook his head.

"We don't hide it but we keep it out of the office. No one but Ziva, our other partner, has noticed yet." After a moments thought he redacted the statement. "No one that we know of anyway, besides Ziva. Our boss always seems to know things but he hasn't said anything yet."

"Your boss, you think he'll give you trouble over it?"

"Over both of us being guys you mean? I don't think that will bother him. It's rule twelve I'm worried about."

Theodore looked confused.

"Our boss has a list of rules. For example rule two is always wear gloves at a crime scene. Rule nine is never go anywhere without a knife. Rule twelve is never date a co-worker."

Theodore chuckled.

"Had some problems with that in the past has he?"

Tim nodded.

"I'm sure he's broken it more than once though, so I'm not too terribly worried."

The door banged open loudly and the click of toenails on hardwood entered the apartment. Jethro entered the room at a trot. A brown eye glanced between the two men sitting on the sofa. Deciding there was nothing for him to worry about the dog padded into the bedroom and, from the sound of it, jumped onto the bed to wallow in the covers.

The scent of pizza preceded Tony as he cautiously poked his head into the room. Seeing father and son sitting side by side on the sofa he eased himself into the living room, pizza box in hand.

"How was your walk Tony?"

Tim eye'd the older man mischievously. They had already gone on an exhausting, to everyone but the dog, run when they got home from work. Tony looked dead tired now.

"Oh it was fun. Jethro saw a deer in the park and took off in pursuit. I was chatting with a very nice lady, giving her directions to that sub shop on the corner, dog pulls me off my feet and halfway across the park before he realized he was pulling dead weight."

Tony dropped the pizza box on the table, he had it open and a slice in his mouth only a moment later. He chewed happily, his eyes closed in appreciation, before he realized both McGee's were watching him with matching looks of amusement. He swallowed and turned the box towards the couch.

"Pizza?"

Theodore shook his head, grabbing his cap as he stood.

"No, I've really got to get going. I came here from speaking with Director Vance and the SecNav, I need to get home and fill Stephanie in on the situation." He awkwardly held his hand out to his son. Tim paused only a moment before he took it. "I just wanted to see you and…clear the air before I went home."

The handshake was awkward, especially with Tony watching. Theodore held his hand for so long that, for a moment, Tim thought his father would try to hug him. Dropping his hand Theodore reached into his pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to Tim.

"My cell number is written on the back. You can call me anytime if someone's giving you two trouble…Or if you want to talk." Tim smiled and Theodore smiled back.

"Thanks Dad."

After a quick salute to both men Admiral Theodore McGee turned and walked briskly from the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him. Tony and Tim remained standing, staring at the door for several moments before Tim flopped back on the couch.

"Well, that could have gone a lot worse."

He was grinning, a wide grin that no doubt made him look like a ridiculous fool, but he could stop grinning. Tony crossed the coffee table flopping on the couch beside Tim as he finished his slice of pizza.

"Yep. I think that went pretty well."

"You weren't even here for it."

"Well, when I got back neither of you were dead. I'd call that going pretty well."

The living room echoed as Tim whacked the back of Tony's head. But the sound was mostly covered by his laughter.