Wow! Getting better at updating! Thank you all for the reviews, alerts, hits, and condolences. I appreciate it. Hope you like this!

And so it begins...

"Checkmate"

Tony took a swig of his beer. In the dim lighting of the Scottish bar, he sat on a barstool, looking down at his favorite picture. The bartender came over to him, wiping his hands.

"That your boy?" He asked in a thick Scottish accent.

"Huh?" Tony looked up at him. "Oh, yeah. That's my son."

"Cute kid. He looks a lot like you. What are you doing here instead of being with him?"

Tony's eyes drifted down back to the photo. "His mom."

"Ah." The bartender nodded. "One of those. Never understood them."

"It's complicated. You see," Tony pocketed the photo, lifting the beer and sipping some. "She didn't even tell me that she was pregnant until a few months ago. She's extremely pissed off at me, so she decides to take it out on my family. We've had a few near-death experiences by her hand. I want my son, but she told me that I'd never get to see him."

The bartender looked surprised. "Well, I don't know much, but I'd say fight for custody. Prove that he's yours and spend as much time as you can with him. You never know when they disappear from your life."

Tony smirked. "You sound just like my boss."

The bartender chuckled, turning his attention to a new arrival. "Can I help you?"

"No thanks. His boss is just here to get him." The arrival answered.

Tony immediately sobered up. "Hey, Boss."

Gibbs slid into the stool beside him just as the bartender moved on. "He's right, you know. Spend as much time as you can with them."

"I know, Boss." Tony said dejectedly. Slumping his shoulders, he sighed. "I should just fight back instead of running away." A whack on the back of his head was the answer Gibbs gave him. Tony winced. "Thanks, Boss."

Gibbs smirked. "You're welcome." He grew serious. "Now. Let's get planning." With that, Gibbs took a hold of Tony and threw down enough money to cover for him. They walked out of the bar.

Jeanne tapped her band-aid covered pointer finger impatiently on a small pile of file folders. Glaring at Ryan before her, she could nearly bore holes in the man's head. Before her was a dead rose encased in a red long, rectangle box with pretty wrapping. Laying inside were a small envelope and a small vile full of a clear liquid.

"What company dropped this off?" she asked, venom thick in her voice.

Ryan looked down, frantically fumbling through the papers in his portfolio. "Jerry's Flowers on West Street." He answered, pulling out the necessary paper and sliding it in her line of sight. "I've already sent people to get the information that I know you'll want."

She flashed him a smile. "Thank you, Ryan." She reached for the envelope, opening it and pulling out the little letter.

Jeanne,

You're pissed at me. I get it, but that doesn't mean you have to come after my family. That's a bunch of bullshit! You also know it wasn't my fault how your father died. The person to blame died a long time, so there should be justice there.

Explain to me why, after nearly five years, you're getting your revenge. We have a son? Why the hell didn't you get a hold of me sooner! You know where I work! You sure as hell can't keep me from him!

This game you're playing will only end in disaster. Trust me, Jeanne. But...if you insist...better get prepared. You aren't going to like what'll come to you.

Sincerely,

Tony

P.S. Checkmate!

P.S.S. The rose that I'm sure you've nicked your finger on is coated with a venom, but, unlike you, I've given you the antidote. See, Jeanne, I'm a nice guy and won't stoop to your level. Our son'll know that his old man isn't who his mother portrayed. See you soon.