"I would like to see my son. I have informed you of that over and over again. I appreciate you're pretty low on the totem pole and probably not all that bright, but I'm really choosing my words carefully. Very low syllable count. I, Admiral McGee, wish to see my son, Timothy McGee. I am under the impression that he works here…and as depressing as that is, you mean to tell me you do not even know where he is?" The arrogance was spiralling off the crisply uniformed man in spades as he leant over the desk of a supremely unconcerned Leroy Jethro Gibbs. "Perhaps you could pick up the telephone and ring him? Do you think you could do that? Would that be something someone of your stature could manage without assistance?"

Gibbs slowly contemplated this, his head tilted to the side in concentration.

"How many digits are in a standard phone number? It's just…I get confused after six."

Pointed nostrils flared. "What is your problem? Is this how you treat every parent of your employees?" Gibbs' snort of derision was impressive by any man's standards as he stared with intense dislike up at the man in front of him. "Parent?" he echoed mockingly. "Is that what you call yourself? Got a little daddy of the year trophy wedged up your ass?" He sobered sarcastically. "That would explain the strut you came in here with. We have a medic here. Well, technically he's an M.E. but he's pretty well versed in pulling strange objects out of people's assholes. He's especially good at pulling things out of the assholes of assholes. So I guess you're in luck."

Admiral McGee gaped and opened his mouth in retort, but a ping cut them both off.

Tim's brow was furrowed in concentration as he searched rapidly through his cell phone. He had been ignoring his father's calls for weeks now. It was the first time in his entire life he'd ever done such a thing. But the Admiral's rebuff and lies about being too busy to see him the last time he was in town was the straw that broke the camel's back. He was done. He was done with desperately trying to prove himself to a man he'd disappointed since birth. He'd never been fast, strong or smart enough for his father. Even making it to MIT was greeted with a stonewall of disappointment and a blanket statement about how he was going to have to pay for his fancy studies all on his own.

So all in all, Tim was done.

And it felt good. It felt good to be the one in control for once. Not the one desperately seeking even the meanest shred of approval. Closing off his cell with a snap he worked through the leads he'd been following quickly in his head, ready to report to Gibbs. Turning into the bullpen he felt his gut ice over in panic at the sight that greeted him. Mouth falling agape, he stared in stunned silence at the two men staring back at him. One wore the sneer he was so accustomed to and one wore an uncharacteristic look of panic. Tim's stomach jolted further when he realised the panic wasn't being felt for Gibbs, it was being felt for him.

"What are you doing here?"

He blurted the words out before he could stop himself and the narrowing of the Admiral's eyes was not unexpected. "I am here," he answered stiffly, taking a step closer to his son, "to find out why my own flesh and blood believes himself too important to answer his father's calls for weeks on end." At the advancement towards Tim, Gibbs quickly stood and slipped from behind his desk and placed himself in three strides at his junior agent's side. A flash of gratitude shot through Tim though it was mingled with a touch of embarrassment. Did Gibbs think he couldn't hold his own? The movement did not go unnoticed by the Admiral and his sneer became even more pronounced.

"Well? Your father asked you a question. You would do well to answer it." The bull pen was completely empty save for the three men and in that moment Tim couldn't have been more grateful for the fact. "I've been busy," he answered, and a trace of nervousness was shrieking in his tone. "I was meaning to call you back; I've just not had the chance to get around to it."

The lie was obvious as night was to day and the three of them knew it.

Deciding to choose his words carefully, the Admiral contemplated his son quietly. "That's alright," he responded with an easiness that was so forced it was almost laughable. "What's such a small issue between father and son right?" He didn't wait for an answer as Tim's stomach flooded with nausea and Gibbs' eyes narrowed to painful slits. "I was hoping to do this somewhere more private, but I can see that your guard dog isn't going to let that happen." McGee baulked at the outright disrespect towards Gibbs and opened his mouth angrily, but felt to his surprise, a warm hand on his shoulder. "No matter, McGee. Let it go." The words were uttered out of the corner of his mouth and were low enough that only Tim could hear.

"But I have a proposition for you," the elder McGee continued as if there had been no interruption. "It's time to quit fooling around in a ridiculous institution like this son. You need to show more respect to the family name. There's a good position opening up in my command. You would need to go through some extensive training to get the…sissy out of you, but I'd soon see to it that you would be a man fit for duty under my command. You could really serve your country. And I mean really serve, not this administrative nonsense you're doing here. You could do something meaningful, something to be proud of. I've put your name down for it and I'm basically just here to help you wrap up things and get on the road. There are quarters with your name on it back at the base."

He smiled a calculating smile.

"So? Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Silence ripped through the bullpen like a hurricane on steroids. Gibbs, who'd seen and heard it all, couldn't believe his damn ears. Before he could even shake his head to aid comprehension, Tim had moved past the cusp of his unspoken protection and was landing himself directly in front of his father. There was something different about him. Something that had been turned on in the milliseconds following his father's arrogant speech. His back was rigid and he seemed taller as he radiated a near primal sense of indignation. Moving silkily, Gibbs moved forwards and stood just to the side. Close enough to intervene, far away enough to let Tim do…whatever he wanted to do.

"I will never operate under your command. Never."

Admiral McGee blinked in shock at the controlled rage that shimmered in his son's voice.

"You have bullied and berated me since I was old enough to talk. I was never the son you wanted. You wanted a mini you. Someone you could brag about, bring to the range now and again. Someone you could talk about over drinks with your buddies. Someone you could groom to be just like you. But here's the rub. I am nothing like you. Nothing at all. You are cruel and I am kind. You are selfish and I am not. You serve your country for your ego and I serve my country because it is my country. You are unhappy and alone and I am happy and surrounded. I will never be like you. I wasn't too busy to answer your calls. I just didn't want to. I've reached a point where…I don't need your approval anymore, I don't want it. I like who I am and I don't need to change that for anyone. So you need to leave because I am done trying to force a relationship with you that was soured before I turned five."

He took a deep breath, not taking in the gaping expression of both men around him.

"Go. Go and don't ever come back."

The colour drained from the Admiral's face and he spluttered involuntarily in the wake of his abrupt dismissal. His eyes flickered to the side where Gibbs had recovered quickly from his shock and was looking at McGee with an expression of rapt pride. This and this alone ignited a sense of jealous rage in the man and he reacted instinctively. Drawing his fist back he was as quick as lightning but Gibbs was quicker. The yelp of pain was loud in the empty room as he caught the fist just one inch from McGee's nose and twisted it painfully at an unnatural angle. "Try that again," he said quietly over the grunts of pain, "And I will snap this arm off and shove it so far up your ass you'll tickle your own damned tonsils." Throwing the arm down he felt not a moments regret as the Admiral cradled it pathetically. "I know you slap your people upside the head," he spat, "So don't come the holier than thou act with me."

Gibbs shook his head in disgust, but McGee beat him to it.

"There's a difference between discipline and abuse. It's too late for you to learn that lesson so why don't you just listen to me and go. Nobody wants you here." There was another stark silence as McGee stared at his father with complete and utter indifference to the pain his boss had just put him in. He had no regrets about what he'd said and he felt a cathartic release building within him, lightening him where he stood. The showdown was unexpected but it was a hell of a long time coming. "He's right," Gibbs echoed softly. "No one wants you here. So leave, we have important work to do."

Staring at his son's agreeing nod in disbelief Admiral McGee knew his child had changed forever.

And he couldn't handle it.

Taking a step closer, he opened his mouth to spew more vitriol, but a sharp hand caught him around the chest and thrust him backwards. "Tim," Gibbs said quietly, "Ducky's been slow on sending up his time of death. Do me a favour and go down to see what the holdup is." A sheen of indecision coloured McGee's face as he flicked his eyes between his father and boss, confused as to which was which but not confused at all. He looked away from the Admiral and into Gibbs' eyes which were unusually gentle. "Go on Tim. I'll be down in a minute." It was a life choice wrapped up in a menial choice and everyone there knew it. Tim nodded and ignoring his father, he jerked his head to Gibbs before making his way to and disappearing into the elevator.

Gibbs turned to the man he hated as much as DiNozzo senior and arched a brow.

"Thanks for dropping by but it really is time to go. Either through the front door or in a coma. I can arrange both."

Admiral McGee was beaten and he knew it. He had never expected Tim to react the way he had and in that ignorance lay the source of his own defeat. He was much too much a coward to search within himself for the cause of his son's anger. He settled for the much easier option of jealousy and looked at Gibbs with hatred shining in his eyes. "You've poisoned my own son against me. You son of a bitch. You took him from me and brainwashed him. Filling his mind with this, that and the other thing. Turning him soft. You're one hell of a waste of space. Well, you can have him. He's an embarrassment anyway. Always was. Could never do anything right. Useless. He can't even-"

The connection of Gibbs' fist to the Admiral's chin was the most natural feeling thing in the universe. As the man crumpled to the floor, he bent over him and hoisted his head from the ground by the scruff of his blood spattered shirt. The man was dazed and breathing heavily but his eyes were wide with fear as he stared up at the calmly enraged man. "Your son is one of the finest young men I have ever met. He is everything you raised him not to be. He raised himself to be who he is and that in and of itself is one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. You are going to stay away from him. Unless he contacts you, you are never going to bother him again."

He drew his fist back once more and planted it with a damning accuracy between the two eyes that were so like Tim's but contained none of his warmth. Over the grunt of pain and the surge of warm blood on his hands, Gibbs tightened his hold on the scruff of the man's neck. He could happily strange him, but Tim might want to reunite some day and he would not take that from him no matter how repulsive the option may be. He cleared his throat and stared down in disgust at the man who was so blessed that he couldn't even see it. "You keep away from him or you deal with me. And I tell you here and now, I will kill you before you hurt him again. Nod your thick skull if you understand the words that are coming out of my damned mouth." With the blood congealing on his face, Admiral McGee nodded sluggishly, aware that he'd finally met his match.

"Good," said Gibbs silkily, "Now leave. Your son has important work to do and he doesn't need you or the memory of you anywhere near him whilst he does it." Removing his hands, he stood and looked down in disgust at the panting, bloodied man. "You really have no idea, do you?" he asked softly, rhetorically. "How lucky you are to have a living, breathing son. How lucky you are to have someone like Tim as your son. And now it might be too late, you'll never know. And when you're lying on your death bed with all your fineries and accolades, you're going to wish you'd known. You're going to die wishing." He wiped the blood on his hands on the side of his pants as he moved out of the Admiral's eyeshot. Before the elevator doors opened up and swallowed him whole, he spoke in a low tone but it carried all the way over to where the crumpled man lay motionless.

"Leave. And don't ever come back unless and until you can be the father that boy deserves."

…

A/N: Random One-Shot.

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