Side by side they sat.

Three abreast.

They, on one side of the shining mahogany conference table, grouped.

He, on the other, alone.

A harsh reticence filled the room, nowhere near peaceable enough to constitute mere quietude. A large cheap clock ticked loudly on the wall. They, the trio that is, all wore matching expressions of angry disdain, with a healthy dash of superiority based boredom. He, for his part, looked simply contemplative. Drumming his fingers lightly on the table he cared not for the six eyes that singed his skin, waiting for his deliberations to come to their end. Staring out the window, his brow creased under the weight of his thought process before he finally came to a decision, immediately desisting with his finger drumming.

"No."

Short, sweet and to the point. Everything he was famed for. Unfolding his legs and stretching, he stood from the table with an unapologetic shrug at the matching expressions of disbelieving rage. "I gave you my word that I would think about. I even did all that thinking right in front of you. But the answer is no. And as none of you have any official or legal business here, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." His nostrils flared, betraying for the first time the anger that bubbled just below the surface. "And I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist you leave now."

It was the Admiral who reacted first, as he knew it would be.

"Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"

Gibbs tilted his head to the side with a dangerous spark blooming in his eyes.

"I don't think you'd really appreciate the answer to that question, John."

Shock coloured an otherwise impassive face as an admittedly strong jaw fell downwards in amazement. The man rose to face Gibbs, his own eyes darkening with rage. "You would do well to address me with the requisite respect and rank of a man of my stature and service. It is Admiral McGee to you. We are never going to be on a first name basis. It may have escaped the notice of someone with your level of intelligence, but an Admiral of the U.S. Navy would generally have the ear of the Secretary of the U.S. Navy."

Gibbs moved not an inch back as he raised a brow.

"I'm not being funny, John, but you better give SecNav his ear back. He'll be looking for it."

A gust of air tickled Admiral McGee's tonsils as he gaped gormlessly at the man in front of him, feeling the equally shocked gazes of Anthony DiNozzo Senior and Director Eli David boring into his right and left-hand side. Breathing deeply for a moment, he struggled to comport himself. No one spoke to him like this. Absolutely no one. No exceptions. Toying with his pristine lapels as he always did when flabbergasted, on the rare occasions he was so, he narrowed his gaze at a supremely unconcerned Gibbs. "You are a disgrace," he intoned quietly. "You ought not to be in the service of the U.S. Navy and I intend to personally see to it, that you are removed from your position as quickly as humanly possible. I will be on the phone to the Secretary the moment I leave here."

Gibbs blinked innocently.

"Reckon he won't be able to hear you, John. You've gone and taken his ear off after all."

So stunned was he by the continued impertinence, that the Admiral simply couldn't think of anything else to say. Sitting back down in his chair with confusion burning freely, he shook his head in bewilderment. Taking up the mantle, Eli David suddenly stood and filled the room with his imposing presence. A more learned and mannerly man than Admiral McGee, but decidedly more dangerous, he chose his words carefully. "Agent Gibbs. I appreciate that you seem to be labouring under a myriad of misconceptions here. And you are loyal and protective. I can see that, I appreciate that. But at the same time and by the same stroke, we are in a superior position to you in this matter. It may be an age-old adage, but it still rings true. The simple fact of the matter is that blood remains thicker than water and you would do well to, as a representative of nurture, step aside and allow nature to take its precedence."

Cocking his head to the side as if he were hard of hearing, Gibbs frowned.

"I honestly have no idea what you just said."

Eli resisted the urge to rip the man's throat out by offering a cruel smile. "I see. Let me ahh, dumb it down for you then, shall I? Myself, the Admiral and…well, this other man here, want answers. We demand answers. You have those answers and you will therefore give us those infernal answers." He licked his lips delicately. "Do you have any idea what I just said, now?" As if taking the question under serious consideration, Gibbs pondered for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope. I'm afraid I don't. Now, if we could just go back to what I was saying. You remember? When I was speaking? Yeah. If we could back there, that'd be great because I distinctly remember asking you three to leave and not issuing an invitation to play musical chairs. So, not to be a pain, but I was wondering if you could do that? Yanno, leave?"

It was Anthony DiNozzo Senior's turn to stand as Eli flopped back down in contempt.

"Listen here, Gibbs. I know my boy thinks the sun shines right out of your keister, but I have business to conduct with him. These two gentlemen have their own reasons for requiring access. The point of the matter is the same regardless of the reasoning. We want to know where they are and we want to know now. You can either tell us yourself or we will go over your head and make life very difficult for you. You've already heard that the Admiral here has your job in his sights, why make things even worse for yourself? Don't be a fool. Think of your livelihood."

Gibbs stared with a terrifying coldness. But it was nothing compared to the glacial tone of his voice.

"Perhaps if you had thought a little less of your livelihood and a little more of your son, you would know where he is right now."

Senior glared with a venom. Before he could prevent it, before he could regain the commercial composure he worked so hard to cultivate, his fist was slamming down on the table. "Now see here Gibbs, I don't require post-dated parenting advice from a childless relic like you. My son had the best of everything growing up. The finest nannies, the most prestigious schools. He wanted for nothing. You understand? He wanted for nothing."

Gibbs shook his head in disagreement, not angrily, but sadly.

"He wanted a father."

Speechless and deflated, Senior dropped back down in his chair, reassembling the stony line-up of three once more. Scratching his head, Gibbs pointed to the door. "You people need to leave. I am not telling you, John, where Tim is. I am not telling you, Eli, where Ziva is. I am not telling you, asshole, where Tony is. Do you three understand that? I am telling you nothing. They are away, they are on vacation if you like. You tried to contact them before they left and they didn't want to reciprocate. They asked me not to pass on their details or whereabouts should any of you come knocking. As fortune would have it, you came knocking all together and all at once to save me repeating myself. Your sons and your daughter do not want to see or hear from you, and so I will not give you the answers you're looking for. All I can and will do, is show you the damned door."

Three sets of eyes exploded with similarly raw emotion.

"Nonsense," Eli snarled, "Ziva knows that when I come knocking, she answers. She is Mossad, regardless of the ridiculous badge she now wears. I am her father. You are nothing more than an employer. I trump you in every conceivable aspect with regards my daughter. I am her flesh and her blood. You, a mere caretaker. That is something you should understand."

Gibbs pursed his lips tightly.

"I understand that if you had been the one to actually take care of your daughter, you would know where she is. But you've never taken care of her, have you? She was nothing more than a tool on your belt since the day she was born. And you have used her ever since. But guess what, Eli? That shit ends now, here, today. She is not a tool on your belt anymore. She is one of my people. And I don't care if she's got Type A blood and I got Type B. I would give my life for her and not hesitate. I would do anything for her. And that and that alone is why I could leave here now and go to her, and you cannot. Maybe that is something that you should understand."

Whatever colour remained in Director David's face, vanished.

Admiral McGee took up the mantle, but he was shot down before he got a gust of wind in his sails.

"As for you, John, nothing Tim has ever done has been good enough for you, has it? The kid is a bona fide genius. He's a published author, he spends his free time helping vulnerable kids. He's brave and loyal, funny and kind. But you don't care, do you? Because he doesn't wear the same uniform that you do, he doesn't care about the family name like you do. When your daughter was accused of murder, did she come running to you? Did she hell. She went to her big brother because he's the only one who would give a damn. What does that tell you? What kind of father does that make you? So you can sit there with your puffed-up chest and your shiny uniform all day long, but I ain't gonna tell you where he is. As far as I'm concerned, the further away he gets from you the better."

As the Admiral's pallor turned ashen, DiNozzo Senior let out a short snarl.

"Now you listen here, Gibbs, you-"

"No. You can listen for a change. Your son was dying. I mean he was on death's door. And he didn't call you. He didn't even mention you. You weren't even in his dying contemplations. He was riddled with the plague, barely able to breathe and not once did he mention his father. You are his only living, and I use this term loosely, parent, and he didn't want you at his deathbed. You warehoused him in boarding school after boarding school whilst your whored your way around Europe. Then, when that didn't work out, you stuck him in a military school that allowed such a system of abuse, a kid recently killed herself there. You threw money at him like he was some sort of underperforming portfolio. You ignored him when his mother died, you abandoned him when he needed you the most. So you do not sit there, you know-nothing asshole and tell me that I need to listen to you. I've had your son rack in my house when the shit in his head gets too dark, too much to take that he can't bear to be alone. I've watched him go through heartbreak after heartbreak cos' he doesn't know how to trust people. And that's down to you. That is on you."

He took a deep breath, his hammering heart twinging under the pressure.

He looked to the shocked room at large.

"All of that is on all of you. You all failed your kids. In different ways. And sure, maybe I wasn't the best father in the world to my daughter. But I loved her. And she knew it. I made sure she knew it. I was by her side when she needed me, I held her at night when she cried because there were monsters under her bed. I wiped away the tears when she came home with a D on her report card, because that crap doesn't matter when your child is healthy and happy. I taught her to ride a bike, to build a tree swing, to mend her doll's arm. I was her father. Not her drill sergeant, not her owner and not her business partner. You people had perfectly healthy children and you took them and screwed them the hell up. You, Senior, treated your son like a burden, something to be stored away and forgotten about. You, John, treated your son like an extension of yourself that would never be good enough. You, Eli, treated your daughter like a weapon in a war no child should have to fight. And now it's all come full circle to bite you in the ass and I sure as hell ain't helping you make it right. Not unless and until it is what they want. Right now, it's not what they want and therefore it's not what you're gonna get."

He moved away from the table then, seized by the sudden urge to get far away from the despicable trio.

"Unless they come and ask me to let you know where they are, I will never tell you. You keep digging and pushing, you cause them any discomfort or unease and I will end you. I don't care if you're the Director of an intelligence agency, an Admiral in the U.S. army or a businessman with little to no business sense. I will end you. I don't care if blood is thicker than water cos' I care about them in a way that you should have, and didn't. Maybe it's too late for you, maybe it's not. But for now…you're done. You're done here. You can sit there all day long if you like, but I'm outta here. You can report me to whomever you like, whenever you like and I will not give a shit. That's my final answer and my final word and I don't care whether you like it or not."

He strode to the door, opened it and stood in the light bathed frame for a final moment.

With a parting comment, he was gone, snapping the door shut quietly behind him.

"Blood might be thicker than water, but nurture will always win out over nature, fellas."

…

A/N: Random One-Shot.

Guys, I've started up a Facebook page for my FanFiction/FictionPress accounts. It's basically to post updates there and what not and a few other bits. It's under: Inks-Inc-FanFiction-319732901806241/ or if you type in "Inks Inc – Fanfiction" you'll get it as well. Feel free to message me there as well as here!

Credit for the Social Media idea goes to Mindless Creations! If you guys haven't read her stuff, you should, it's awesome!

Inks x

….