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NCIS Agent Jethro Gibbs entered his kitchen through the back door, and grinned as his senses picked up on the state of his household. First, he took in the sight of a roasted chicken ready to be carved, cooling on the granite counter. Simmering on the stove were vegetables that he didn't bother to investigate as he moved further towards the table, his attention attracted to something on the kitchen floor.

Inspecting further, he noted a line of little boy clothes plus a pair of tiny tennis shoes covered completely in wet mud, making a trail towards the laundry room.

Listening carefully, he caught his son Tony's voice coming from the upstairs bathroom, intertwined with the replies of his housekeeper, Maria.

It didn't take long to guess that Tony, a very active little five year old, had found the last mudpuddles which hadn't yet dried from the early afternoon shower, and had landed in each and every one.

Maria had obviously stripped him down in the kitchen when he got home, and then hauled him bodily upstairs to be bathed.

Jethro cut the heat off of the vegetables and then carefully carried the jeans, underwear, sweatshirt, and shoes into the laundry room. The apparel was so covered in muck that he briefly contemplated trashing all of it.

He regarded the mess with a critical eye. Obviously, the wisest choice would be to send everything through a pre-wash before the actual wash- Tony hadn't left one inch of his clothing mud free.

Gibbs checked the jean pockets thoroughly and pulled out Tony's latest treasures- a couple of rocks, one Hershey candy silver bell, a quarter, and a broken black crayon. Setting them aside with a smile, he started the load of clothes and headed towards the bathroom, hanging his jacket over a living room chair.

He could hear Tony's sputtering protests before he made it to the second floor.

"Abuela, por favor- we already washed my hair. Ya me lavé el pelo esta semana! I am squeaky clean now all over. I don't want to wash my hair anymore!"

When Maria failed to stop he wailed dramatically, "You are going to scrub all of me down the drain!"

Jethro winced in sympathy as he entered the bathroom. Tony was standing up in the bathtub, head thrown back and clutching a washcloth to cover his eyes, as Maria poured a pitcher of water over his shampooed head.

"Tony, quédate quieto. Estoy casi terminado. If you stay still I will finish faster. The mud is almost gone." Maria finished rinsing and took over wiping the excess water from his face. "Now, bambino, you are clean."

"No, I'm not a bambino any more, remember I'm in school now, Abuela." Spying his father, Tony's face broke into his trademark spectacular smile. "Daddy, save me! Abuela is trying to scrub my skin off!"

Gibbs laughed and gave Maria a pat as she moved away from the tub to let him greet his son. Maria handed him a clean towel and Gibbs grabbed Tony and wrapped him quickly, tickling him as he did so.

Maria smiled and began the bathroom clean up, but ordered as they passed, "Put him in his pajamas, Agent Gibbs. He does not need more clothes."

Gibbs nodded and carried Tony the rest of the way to the boy's bedroom. Pretending that he was going to throw him on the bed, he swung him teasingly and then dropped him to the bed from a safe distance. Tony laughed and rolled to the middle of the bed, discarding the towel.

Rummaging in the bureau for pajamas, Gibbs grabbed a blanket sleeper adorned with cars and trains and Tony's lip immediately began to creep out to a pout.

"Daddy, no! I am too big to wear baby pajamas. Those are for wee lads. I don't want to wear that. I'm not a wee lad anymore!"

Gibbs noted the use of Scots vocabulary and the Mallard influence before he answered firmly, "You don't get a choice here. It's going to be very cold tonight, and these are the warmest."

Tony backed towards the headboard and shook his head in the negative.

"One..." Gibbs countered, holding up his forefinger. He reached for Tony.

Tony scowled but moved further back.

"Two..." Gibbs responded, then added, "You know that if I get to three, you are going to get a spanking, remember?" He stared meaningfully and Tony met his gaze, green eyes assessing his father's blue ones.

Gibbs thought he could actually see the moment Tony decided that the pajamas weren't worth a spanking.

He walked to the middle of the bed and sat down, pulling on the underwear his father handed him, then shot up to jump up and down on the bed as his father caught him to put him in one leg, then the other, then both arms of the dreaded pajamas.

Finally zipped, Gibbs brushed Tony's sweet smelling hair quickly, swatted him softly on the bottom, and told him to head down to supper.

Tony took off running, and Jethro heard him fall to the floor on the landing so he could coast down the stairs on his tummy, then heard the thump and laugh when he hit bottom.