Despite his tiredness Tony did not sleep well that night and it seemed he had only just dropped off to sleep when he was awoken by strange creakings and thumpings from somewhere in the apartment. It took him a moment or two to remember that he had a house guest and then he lay in bed wondering if he should investigate – did he really want to know what Jethro was up to? Tony realised, however, that the noise would probably disturb the occupier of the neighbouring apartment who seemed to have the hearing of a bat. Tony groaned and rolled out of bed before going to knock on Jethro's door,

"Jethro! You OK in there?"

There was the customary pause before he got a reply and he was about to knock again when he heard a breathless voice say,

"Yeah."

"OK," said Tony reluctantly, "Keep it down, will you. Mr Simpson next door to you gets tetchy if he's woken up."

A grunt echoed through the door and Tony decided to take that for assent. He turned to walk back to bed when a loud crash sounded. Tony rushed into the room to find Jethro lying on the floor with a disgusted look on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Tony.

Jethro shrugged.

"Why are you on the floor? Did you fall out of bed?"

"No," said Jethro in an offended tone.

"Then what happened?"

Jethro stared crossly at Tony but recognised that an answer was required, "I was doing decline push ups."

"What?"

"Decline push ups. You put your feet on the bed …"

"I know what they are," said Tony, "Why are you doing them? And why are you doing them at …" Tony looked at the bedside clock, "At 0600?"

"I need to get fit," said Jethro.

"Why?"

"To get into the Marines."

"At 0600?" whined Tony.

"It's when I get up at home," said Jethro.

"Did you hurt yourself?" asked Tony.

The reply was a contemptuous shrug.

"You know, you should put your feet on a stable platform to do those," said Tony. "The bed's not stable."

"It is soft," agreed Jethro.

Tony decided it was too early in the morning to get into a discussion about his own pampered way of life, "I need coffee," he groaned.

"I could go for some coffee," said Jethro hopefully.

"You allowed to have coffee?" asked Tony sceptically.

"Sure," said Jethro.

"You can have one cup," said Tony sternly. He detected the beginnings of a shoulder movement, "Take it or leave it," he added. "I'll put the coffee on. You can use the bathroom first." Tony strode out of the room before any more shrugs could manifest themselves. Jethro watched him go and then rubbed his bruised elbows with a grimace.

Tony made the coffee considerably weaker than usual and watched with fascination to see how his guest would react to the cream, sugar and hazelnut creamer he had put out. Somehow he wasn't surprised when Jethro started drinking without adding any embellishments.

"Let me guess," said Tony, "Marines take it black?"

This time he got a nod rather than a shrug.

"You sure you don't want some cream or sugar?" asked Tony suspecting that Jethro was stifling a grimace at the taste of the coffee. "I made it stronger than usual," he lied, "And it's a new blend – very bitter."

"Well," said Jethro, "In that case I might take some sugar … and some cream."

"Good idea," said Tony gravely. "Now, what do you want for breakfast?" He sensed the stare building, "Tell you what, I'm going to make some eggs and toast. If you don't want that there's cereal in the cabinet or you can have some oatmeal." Tony stared back at Jethro and there was the customary weighing of options,

"Scrambled?" he asked.

"Absolutely," said Tony, "I don't like them fried. They look like …"

"Eyes," said Jethro.

"Yeah, sort of staring up at you from the plate." Tony found himself humming a little tune as he went into the kitchen: he had bonded with the kid over eggs and, more importantly, his bluff over having oatmeal in his kitchen hadn't been called.

Tony considered himself one of the most sociable people on the planet but he drew the line at conversation over breakfast. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Jethro didn't want to make small talk either. They ate their food in something approaching an amicable silence but when the food was gone Tony realised decisions had to be made.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Can I use your laptop?" asked Jethro.

Tony blinked, somehow he hadn't pegged the kid for a being a computer enthusiast. "Sure," he said, "What do you want to do on it? Some game you play?"

The offended shrug had returned, "No," he said scornfully.

"You need to message some friends?" asked Tony hopefully.

The shrug tried to convey indifference to the thought of friends back home but, to Tony's eyes, there was something a little sad about it.

"Then what do you want to use the laptop for?" asked Tony. A horrible thought struck him but before he could tactfully inform Jethro that he would make sure that adult sites were blocked, Jethro replied,

"I want to look on the Marines' website," said Jethro.

"You do? Why?"

"to keep up-to-date," said Jethro earnestly. "They have all sorts of cool stuff on there. And they post a daily workout."

"I see," said Tony, "You know those workouts will be designed for serving Marines. You can't expect to do them." He received a stony glare for that remark. He looked out the window and saw that it was raining. "How about going to the Marine Corps Museum this morning?"

"Great!" said Jethro. "I mean, OK."

Tony grinned and then grimaced when he looked at the time. Look, it's 0700, it doesn't open till 0900. You do the washing up while I go get ready. I'll log you on to the laptop when I come out. You can do your research before we go."

Jethro nodded agreement and set to clearing up the kitchen with more enthusiasm than care for Tony's expensive dinnerware.

NCISNCIS

"So," said Tony as he and Jethro sat in the Devil Dog Diner eating lunch a few hours later, "Why a Marine?"

"Huh?" asked Jethro. He seemed to be in a daze from a morning soaking up the history of the Marine Corps and now he was looking at the pictures of Marines which adorned the walls of the diner.

"Why do you want to be a Marine?" repeated Tony.

"LJ," said Jethro.

"LJ?"

"Leroy Jethro Moore. I was named after him."

"And he was a Marine?"

"Yeah."

"And he made you want to be a Marine?" asked Tony.

"He didn't make me," said Jethro in a tone which suggested nobody could make him do anything.

"What then?" asked Tony. "Did he talk to you about being a Marine."

Jethro finished chewing a bite of his burger before dragging his eyes from the photos and replying, "He didn't talk much about it. Guess that's what made me want to know more."

Tony nodded, somehow this made sense for this odd boy. "So, what's the plan? College first?"

"No!"

"You not going to college? Guessing you don't want to be an officer then?"

There was no shrug just a scornful look, "I'm going to work for a living!"

"What?"

"Officers don't work," said Jethro.

"Who told you that?" asked Tony.

The shrug was the only answer.

"OK," said Tony, "So you'll go in straight after high school?" Jethro looked discontented. "You need a high school diploma," added Tony.

"I guess."

"No guessing about it," said Tony, "The Corps won't let you in without one."

"I know," said Jethro.

"What does your Dad think about it?"

"Nothing to do with him," said Jethro.

"It will be if you join at 17," said Tony, "You'll need his permission."

"He won't care."

"What does that mean? Of course he'll care! He's your father," said Tony.

For a moment Tony thought this was going to be another question that didn't get an answer but the boy put down his burger and said stonily, "He doesn't care. He cares about other people, not me."

"You know why he's gone to Canada," said Tony. "He's gone to help your Mom's cousin out."

"Yeah, always other people," said Jethro, "Not me and not my Mom." There was a wealth of bitterness in the words and Tony felt at a loss to know what to say. "Can we go?" asked Jethro. "I want to go to the Making Marines exhibit."

"Sure," said Tony hoping there were seats available for those visitors who were less focussed than people like Jethro.

Some hours later Tony dragged a reluctant Jethro away from the museum. The motivational talk from a Marine Corps recruiter along with the chance to put on a fully loaded pack and test his aim on a laser rifle range had, momentarily, at least stunned the boy into something like chattiness. "Did you see me?" he asked. "I aced the rifle range. They said I showed real talent. And I reckon I could have held that pack for a lot longer."

Tony smiled, "Yeah, you did good. You got your mug?"

Jethro grinned back, "Yes. Thanks for buying it for me," he clutched the bag containing a Marines mug a little tighter.

"You're welcome," said Tony suppressing an impulse to ruffle the kid's hair. Somehow he didn't think it would be a welcome gesture.

NCISNCIS

"Want to watch some football?" asked Tony when they got home. He looked towards the kitchen but decided that a day of museum visiting had worn him out too much to consider cooking. "We'll order some takeout."

"Can we watch baseball?" asked Jethro.

"Sure," said Tony. He threw the remote to Jethro, "Find something you want to watch." He rested his eyes for a moment and the next thing he was aware of was Jethro saying thank you to someone and the smell of cooked food wafting through the apartment. "What?" he said groggily.

"I ordered," said Jethro. "You were asleep."

Tony was about to deny this but a glance at his watch showed that somehow an hour had passed since they got home. "Huh," he said, "Where did you order from?"

"Julio's."

"They're my favourite," said Tony, "How'd you know?"

"The menu was pinned to your fridge with some others but that one was on top and it looked the most used."

"Huh," said Tony again. "What you order?"

"Pepperoni and onion pizza. And a soda."

"Oh," said Tony.

"And a pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese one for you," added Jethro.

"Ah," said Tony in a contented voice, "How …"

"I asked the guy at the other end what you usually had," said Jethro.

"Good job," said Tony. "And good observational skills too."

The shrug implied modesty but pleasure.

"You know," said Tony after a mouthful or two of pizza, "I could help with the getting fit gig."

Jethro didn't stop eating and just looked sceptical.

"Phys Ed major," said Tony, "I know about fitness regimes."

Jethro stared at him and there was a hint of a raised eyebrow. Tony realised that he was thinking that someone who had to crash after a day's sightseeing was probably not the best role model for fitness. With a sigh he remembered that he had insisted on using the elevator wherever possible when going around the museum and knew that his fitness credentials were lacking.

"There's a gym in the basement," Tony suggested.

"Huh," said Jethro. He looked a little embarrassed, "Not keen on basements."

"What? Why?"

The shrug was not unexpected.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Tony asked. He suspected that Jethro would suggest a return visit to the Marine Corps museum but instead his eyes travelled to his bedroom. "Fishing?" suggested Tony as he divined that Jethro was thinking about his fishing rod.

"Sure," said Gibbs casually although his eyes lit up. Then he added, "You fish?"

"Not for a while," admitted Tony. He paused before adding, "I used to go with my Dad. Sea fishing mostly. Good times." This statement did not draw any comment from Jethro. "You go fishing with your Dad?" he asked.

"Jackson doesn't have much time for fishing," said Jethro.

"Jackson? You call your Dad, Jackson?"

Tony thought that Jethro's shoulders must be amongst the fittest in DC the number of times he used them to shrug. "It's his name," said Jethro inarguably.

There was no denying this and Tony decided not to try. Perhaps a day out in the open fishing would soften the boy towards him.

"OK," said Tony. "We'll go to Mattawoman Creek. It's a good spot."

Jethro looked impressed, "What sort of fish do they have there?"

"Uh, ones with scales … and gills," said Tony inadequately.

The impressed look faded and Jethro turned back to the baseball game.

A couple of hours later Tony decided it was time for bed,

"Hey," he said, "Try not to get up so early tomorrow? Or at least, keep the noise down. I don't want the tenants' committee getting on to me."

Once again, Tony did not sleep well and only dozed off after several hours. He was pleasantly surprised when he did get up to find that Jethro's bedroom door was still closed but he was less pleased when he went into the bathroom to find that his razor showed signs of use. He sighed and went and knocked on the guest bedroom door, wondering if this was going to a ritual for each day of Jethro's stay.

"Yeah?" came the reluctant answer.

"You OK in there?" asked Tony.

"Sure."

Tony smiled to himself. He could remember a time when he tried shaving well before he needed to. He reassured himself that there had been no blood in the bathroom which suggested the kid hadn't hurt himself. "Making breakfast," he called through the door.

Fifteen minutes later, he was still waiting for Jethro to appear. He knocked on the door again, "Eggs are getting cold," he said.

Another ten minutes passed and the eggs had congealed on the cold, now soggy, toast. Tony was about to call again when the door opened and Jethro emerged.

"You cold?" asked Tony.

"No."

"Why the hat?"

Inevitably, Jethro shrugged as he tried to imply that it was perfectly normal to be wearing a baseball hat indoors.

"Take it off," ordered Tony.

Jethro glared at him but then, reluctantly took the hat off.

"Shi- ", began Tony as he gazed at Jethro's unevenly shorn head. He rapidly decided against making Jethro any fresh breakfast. "Guess our first visit today is the barber's," he announced. "I'm not going out with you looking like that."

There was a mixture of chagrin and relief on Jethro's face. Tony sighed as he realised there were still at least five days of Jethro's visit to go.