Author's Note: Hey Guys, sorry its been so long between updates but writer's block really kicked my ass with this chapter but I got there in the end at least, so consider this my Christmas gift to you all. Hopefully my muse will be kinder to me with the next chapter. Again I'd like to thank everyone who has read and left reviews it really makes all the hard work worth while. I'll let you get on with reading the next chapter then shall I.
Happy Holidays Everyone!
Chapter Eleven
Tony groaned as he reluctantly drifted into consciousness. He rolled onto his back, and tiredly scrubbed a hand over his face, keeping his eyes firmly closed. A few seconds later they snapped open, however, when he heard a small, disgruntled grumble and then a moment later he felt Megan snuggle up against his side, wrapping her little arms around his much larger one as if it were a teddy bear. Tony lifted his head off the pillow and glanced down, a lazy smile curling his lips when he saw her tousled little head peeking out of the covers. Then he frowned when he realized he was lying on something soft and lumpy. He shifted to one side, using his free hand to grab whatever it was from under him.
"Oops, sorry, Cubby," he whispered, giving the slightly squashed looking teddy bear an apologetic sort of expression. "Hey," he said after a pause, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "No nightmares." His gaze settled back on Megan and a soft, pleased grin spread slowly across his face.
He propped himself up on his elbow, doing his best not to disturb Megan, and glanced at his alarm clock which told him it was a little after eight. Yawning, he carded a hand through his hair causing it to stand to attention. In an Indiana Jones style move, he replaced his right arm – which Megan was clinging so tightly to – with her Cubby bear, and then quietly slipped out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. After answering the call of nature, he shaved off his morning stubble and then padded barefoot down the hall to his kitchen. He scratched his chin as he pondered what to have for breakfast; thinking it might be a nice change of pace to have something other than sugarcoated cereal. It wasn't often that he had the time or the energy to cook something from scratch first thing in the morning, so he thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of it while he had the chance. Problem was he didn't really know what Megan liked to eat for breakfast besides Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops and blueberry pancakes. After a few minutes of deliberation he decided he couldn't go wrong with some crispy bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. With a determined nod he set to work.
A short while later, Megan – no doubt roused by the smell of bacon – wandered into the kitchen, sleepy and rumpled looking, with Cubby dangling from one hand while the other rubbed sleep from her eyes. Tony flashed a smile in greeting and was surprised when she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, leaning heavily against him. He went very still and stared down at her with wide eyes for a few seconds before slowly relaxing. He dropped a hand onto her head, stroking his fingers through her hair and smiling when he heard her exhale a huge yawn. Megan was still clinging to him when he began loading food onto two plates and refused to let go when he tried to leave the kitchen, forcing him to make his way awkwardly towards the couch, dragging her along by his leg. She didn't release him until he set the plates on the coffee table at which point she detached herself, kneeled down next to the table and snagged one of the plates. Grinning to himself, Tony perched on the edge of the couch and grabbed the remaining plate. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, searching through the channels until he found some cartoons; switching on the closed captions when he did.
One thing was for sure, Megan was certainly enjoying the breakfast Tony had prepared for her; he'd never seen someone so small pack away so much food in so short a time. Definitely inherited my appetite, he thought in amusement. It was as Tony was setting his own (empty) plate down on the coffee table that he heard a noise at the door. Without thinking, he reached for his sidearm; realizing too late that it was locked safely away in the top drawer of his nightstand. Before he had a chance to grab a makeshift weapon, the door opened and in stepped a grey-haired woman carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies who jumped in surprise when she set eyes on him. Tony sagged in relief.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed the woman, clutching at her chest in a dramatic fashion. "You scared me, Tony! What's wrong? You've not been shot again, have you?"
"Sorry, Dorothy, I should have called you – no, I've not been shot – not this time anyway." He gave an awkward laugh. "I'm just taking some time off work because . . . um, well . . . it's kinda complicated …"
Dorothy was, for all intent and purposes, Tony's 'maid'. Although perhaps 'cleaning lady' was a more accurate term. She also happened to be one of his neighbors; she lived on the first floor with her two cats Gladys and Alonzo and at a spritely sixty-eight used the money Tony gave her to help supplement her social security check. So every Friday morning she would drop by to run the vacuum around, dust, and clean the bathroom. Since Tony rarely spent much time at home other than to sleep and occasionally eat she really didn't have that much to do but she needed the extra income and Tony liked knowing he was helping her out.
"What's all this?" Dorothy asked, glancing about at all the boxes littering the living room floor. "You're not moving are you?"
Tony smiled, amused by the concern and disappointment he heard in Dorothy's voice. As a retired journalist Dorothy had put career ahead of her personal life and therefore had never found the right man to settle down with meaning she had no family to speak of, so Tony had become something of a surrogate son to her; he knew if he ever did decide to move that he would be sorely missed by the old woman.
"Relax, Dorothy, I'm not going anywhere," he assured her with a bright smile. "Actually someone's moving in –"
"Oh, Tony, you didn't tell me you were seeing someone!" Dorothy interrupted enthusiastically. "I'm so happy for you. Who is it? Oh I know it's that nice, chirpy girl with the pigtails, isn't it? Allie?"
"I think you mean Abby, but she's my friend – just a friend – and I'm not seeing anyone at the moment . . . but the person moving in is female but she's not – I mean – you see it's . . . well it's rather …" Tony broke off with a sigh, seeing the puzzled look on Dorothy's face. He stood up, took a deep breath and lifted Megan – who up until now had been shielded behind his body and the couch – into his arms where Dorothy could see her.
Dorothy gasped in surprise. "She's not –?"
"Yeah," Tony cut in. "This is Megan, my daughter."
The old woman just gaped at them, looking completely stunned. Megan stared at Dorothy for a moment with a somewhat baffled expression on her face before turning to Tony and giving him a look that seemed to ask 'where'd she come from?' Without really realizing what he was doing, Tony nodded towards the front door which Megan seemed to take as an acceptable answer, since she turned her head away to watch the TV over his shoulder. Dorothy's mouth opened and closed several times as she stared at the pair of them in astonishment.
"H-how did this happen?" she stammered at last. "I mean – I know how it happened – but when? Who…?" Her voice tailed off in confusion.
"Like I said it's a long story, one I'd rather not get into . . . the point is she's here for good now," Tony explained. Although Tony and Dorothy were good friends, he didn't feel comfortable enough with her to share the full details of Megan's sudden appearance in his life.
Dorothy nodded her understanding then a wide, brilliant smile spread across her face. "This is wonderful, Tony, I'm so happy for you."
"Thanks," replied Tony with an awkward smile.
Dorothy made her way to the kitchen, set the bucket of cleaning supplies on the counter and then crossed the living room to stand next to Tony. She raised her hand and gently touched Megan on the arm, gaining the little girl's attention once more.
"Forgive me for asking but is she deaf?" she asked hesitantly.
Tony stared at her in astonishment. "How –?"
"I may not be an expert on children, Tony, but I've lived long enough to know small children tend to be little chatterboxes and this little one hasn't uttered a single word since I stepped through that door," she explained before Tony had a chance to complete his sentence.
Tony dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unconsciously drawing Megan closer to his body. He glanced up, however, when he felt Dorothy lightly touch his arm. A warm, affectionate smile spread across her face and she gave his arm a little squeeze.
"She's a beautiful child, Tony, you should be very proud."
Tony returned her smile with a shy one of his own. "Well, she's a DiNozzo, what do you expect?" he said jokingly, causing the older woman to laugh.
Remembering what he'd learned yesterday, Tony took this opportunity to introduce Dorothy to Megan, spelling out the old woman's name. Megan looked from Tony to Dorothy and back again, she then gave Dorothy a small, shy smile before burying her face against Tony's shoulder.
"I should get changed," said Tony, as he suddenly and embarrassedly became conscious of the fact he was standing there in a t-shirt and his boxers.
"Yes, Tony, you really should. I have work to do and you are in the way," Dorothy replied cheekily. "Off you go," she added, making a shooing gesture with her hands.
Tony smirked. "Yes, ma'am," he said in his best John Wayne impression, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat.
Dorothy rolled her eyes at his antics and shook her head in amusement. Tony made his way towards one of the cardboard boxes that contained Megan's clothes. Setting her down, he took the box into his arms and then led the way to his bedroom; glancing once over his shoulder to be sure Megan was following him. Today, Megan's outfit consisted of a cream, bohemian style blouse with small dusky orange flowers printed around the collar, a pair of cropped, lilac cotton pants and – after ripping off the socks Tony had picked out – a pair of lime green Crocs which Megan had fetched out of the box containing her shoes. Tony threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans that had tears in both knees. Realizing that he was rapidly running out of clothes to wear, Tony decided to bite the bullet and get some laundry done. Emptying the contents of the hamper into a laundry basket, Tony made his way into the living room, searching for Megan; who was once again perched on his coffee table watching cartoons. Balancing the basket on his hip he approached her, tapping her gently on the head to get her attention. She glanced up at him and Tony stuck out his free hand, silently indicating that she take it. Megan stared at his hand, then at his face, then at the TV and then back at his face. Tony arched an eyebrow expectantly and wiggled his fingers. Megan pouted and glowered at his hand as if it was a piece of broccoli he was forcing her to eat. For a moment Tony thought she might disobey him, but then he heard her huff a little disgruntled sigh and then she was standing and wrapping her hand around his middle and index fingers.
"I'll be down in the laundry room, Dot," he explained, heading toward the front door.
Dorothy glanced up from where she was wiping down the counter in the kitchen. "Alright, Hun," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "And how many times have I told you not to call me 'Dot'?" she asked grumpily.
Tony chuckled, releasing Megan's hand so he could open the door. "Sorry, I forgot you don't like that," he said in an innocent tone that wasn't fooling anyone. "Won't happen again . . . Dotty."
He hastily ducked through the doorway, a bubble of laughter erupting from his mouth, when Dorothy growled in annoyance and threw a scouring sponge at him.
Tony really hated the apartment's laundry room in fact he generally tried to avoid it; preferring the Laundromat instead, but considering he had Megan with him he figured it would just be easier to use the apartment's facilities. The laundry room was all the way down in the basement; it was dark and dank and smelled horribly of mildew. The machines were constantly on the fritz and had a bad reputation for chewing up clothes or swallowing them up completely. It's better than nothing, I guess, Tony thought morosely as he and Megan descended the stairs. After picking out a machine that worked, Tony loaded the clothes into it, added some detergent, slotted in some quarters and hit the start button. As the machine began its cycle Tony leaned his hip against one of the dryers and folded his arms across his chest. He watched as Megan pressed her hands against the vibrating washing machine and then began to laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Tony tipped his head to one side, the hint of a smile hovering around his mouth as he studied the little girl before him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what she found so fascinating about the washing machine.
After a few minutes Megan got bored with the washing machine, she wandered over to Tony and latched herself onto his leg. Tony's lips twitched as he stared down at the three-year-old.
"This gonna be a new thing from now on? You clinging to my leg like a little koala bear?" he asked in amusement, tweaking her nose affectionately.
In response Megan gave him a big toothy grin. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Megan changed positions so that she was now sitting on Tony's foot with both her arms and legs wrapped around Tony's calf. Laughing, Tony took that as his cue. Pushing himself away from the dryer he began to shuffle-walk around the room, dragging Megan along by his foot. Megan laughed and squealed in delight and Tony couldn't help but join in with her mirth. They were having so much fun that they didn't notice at first that they'd been joined by a third person; that was until that person cleared their throat indignantly. Tony froze and glanced up, coming face to face with one of his neighbors who he knew by sight but not by name; she was a middle-aged woman who lived on one of the floors above Tony, she had a long, haughty face, grey, bulging eyes and long brown hair scrunched back into a bun. She was staring at Tony and Megan as if they were something she'd just scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
"Oh, sorry about all the noise," he said easily, attempting to disarm her with one of his best DiNozzo smiles.
Apparently she was immune. "Incase you hadn't noticed, this isn't a playground," she replied sternly.
"Of course not, I mean it'd be a pretty boring one if it was there isn't even a slide or . . . a sandpit …" he trailed off as the woman continued to glare at him. "Sorry . . . we'll just . . . get out of your way," he added, reaching down and helping Megan to stand. He lifted her into his arms and retreated to the dryer once again.
The woman stalked over to one of the washing machines, her sensible heels click-clacking on the concrete floor. Tony sat Megan on the dryer, pulling a funny face and nodding in the woman's direction.
'I-C-E—Q-U-E-E-N,' he spelled, causing Megan to giggle.
Once the woman had loaded her laundry into the machine and got it going, she took out a collapsible stool – which she'd been carrying under her arm – set it on the floor, perched her sizable backside upon it and then took out a book which had been concealed in her laundry basket. She eyed them balefully for a few more minutes before turning her attention to her book. It's probably some frumpy romance novel, Tony thought scathingly, more than a little peeved off with the old hag's behavior. He glanced round when he felt Megan tug on his t-shirt. She signed something to him and he furrowed his brow in confusion to show he didn't understand.
'B-O-R-E-D,' Megan spelled out, giving him an imploring look.
Tony nodded, glancing around the room; searching for inspiration. Unfortunately, they'd forgotten poor Cubby back in the apartment and there really wasn't much of anything down here to keep a child occupied. He chewed his lower lip and drummed his fingers against the dryer, trying to think of a game they could play. A few minutes later he snapped his fingers, face lighting up, as an idea struck him.
He pointed at Megan. 'You S-I-G-N,' he half signed, half spelled, and then pointed at himself. 'Me G-U-E-S-S – S-I-G-N.'
Megan smiled and made the universal sign for OK. Tony smiled in return, pleased he had thought up a game that would keep Megan entertained and also educate him about sign language at the same time. Megan chewed on her bottom lip, and kicked her legs – heels crashing noisily against the metal dryer – as she thought up her first sign. A moment later she brought her arms up and folded them across her chest in a vampire-like fashion, scratching her shoulders with her fingers, and then closing her hands into fists, making a squeezing motion as if she was hugging something to her.
'H-U-G?' Tony guessed with a large confident smile splitting his face. Maybe this signing isn't as difficult as I thought it would be.
Megan grinned cheekily and shook her head. Tony frowned in confusion; he'd been so sure that his answer had been right. Without prompting, Megan repeated the sign. Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth as he tried to figure out what else the sign could mean. Megan took this moment to stand up on the dryer and Tony grabbed her by the wrist to make sure she didn't fall. After a slight wobble, Megan made claws with her hands and bared her little white teeth in a snarl; apparently she was trying to give Tony a clue.
'M-O-N-S-T-E-R?' he asked uncertainly.
Megan giggled and shook her head again. Damn, thought Tony, what the hell is it? Megan repeated the sign then repeated the snarling, clawed . . . thing, this time adding Mickey Mouse ears with her hands. What the? Why is Mickey Mouse snarling at me? Oh wait, maybe it's supposed to be Mighty Mouse . . . no wait, that doesn't make any sense! Why the hell would there be a sign for Mighty Mouse? Wait, maybe it isn't a mouse at all maybe it's supposed to be a . . . oh I got it!
'B-E-A-R?' he asked. Megan smiled, and made the hugging gesture again. A bear I can hug? Ooooh! 'T-E-D-D-Y – B-E-A-R?'
'Yes,' signed Megan, giving him a huge, happy grin. Tony felt a matching grin spread across his mouth as he repeated the correct sign for teddy bear.
Megan remained standing and began the next sign, patting her right leg with her right hand and then snapping her fingers. Tony took a few minutes before answering.
'L-E-G?'
'No,' replied Megan.
Tony rubbed his chin as he considered what the snapping fingers could mean. 'D-A-N-C-I-N-G?' Another giggle and another no. 'J-A-Z-Z?' he asked again, already doubting his answer. That just earned him a look of confusion. Okay, definitely not jazz then. Megan took pity on him and gave him another clue . . . at least that's what he assumed she was doing when she suddenly stuck out her tongue and began to silently pant.
'P-A-N-T-S?' he asked hesitantly. Megan gave him a look that clearly questioned his intelligence and Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the expression. C'mon, DiNozzo, think, he berated himself. He arched his eyebrows when Megan chose that moment to do an adorable butt wiggle. Alright now I'm really confused. Megan was staring at him expectantly as if the butt wiggle was the most obvious clue she could have given him, unfortunately Tony could only offer her a blank expression. Megan gave a little sigh and shook her head, her shoulders drooping slightly, no doubt cursing her luck for having such a stupid father; at least that's what Tony imagined must be going through her little head. She sat back down, and for a moment Tony was afraid she'd lost interest in the game, but then to his surprise Megan removed one of her lime green crocs from her foot and then, in an impressive display of flexibility, proceeded to rub her ear with her bare foot.
"Dog!" he cried out loud, earning himself an annoyed glare from his grumpy hag of a neighbor. "I mean," he whispered. 'D-O-G?'
'Yes,' replied Megan, rewarding him with another huge smile and a thumbs up.
They continued like that for the duration it took to wash and dry the laundry, all the while ignoring the impatient huffing and puffing sounds coming from Tony's neighbor and the irritated glares she kept shooting in their direction. By the time they were heading upstairs Tony had learned a lot more signs although he wasn't entirely certain when in the near future he would need to know how to say dog, flower, apple, ball, sunglasses, Christmas, and paint; which was just a few of the random things Megan had signed and then acted out for him. Despite the perhaps less than helpful signs now added to his vocabulary, Tony couldn't help the flutters of contentment and happiness he was feeling simply from spending time with Megan. It's crazy to think that less than a week ago just the idea of becoming a father would have sent me running for the hills – yet here I am; enjoying this, enjoying Megan, enjoying being a . . . dad. A small smile hovered around Tony's mouth as he turned this thought over in his mind.
"There you are, I was just about the send out a search party," Dorothy said by way of greeting, as Tony and Megan stepped into the apartment. She was in the living room wrapping up the electrical cord of the vacuum cleaner. Tony knew from experience that Dorothy always left cleaning the living room to last which meant she was almost finished for the day.
"Sorry, Dorothy, but you know how slow those machines are," Tony explained. "Let me just stick this lot away and I'll get your money."
"Alright, Hun," Dorothy called after him as he made his way toward the bedroom, Megan tagging along behind him.
Setting the laundry basket down on his bed, he turned, scooped Megan into his arms and went in search of his wallet; locating it a few minutes later on top of his dresser. "Here you go, Dorothy," he said a few minutes later, handing the money to Dorothy. "Thanks for everything, the place looks great."
"That's what you always say," she replied with an amused smile.
"That's 'cause it's always true," he said, giving her his famous megawatt smile.
"Charm will get you nowhere, Tony," she chided lightheartedly.
"My experience so far would suggest otherwise," he retorted cheekily, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, earning himself a light swat to the chest.
Dorothy smiled up at him affectionately, her eyes darting between him and the little girl in his arms. "I think this is a wonderful thing that has happened, Tony," she stated softly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "I believe you'll make an excellent father."
Taken aback by this unexpected vote of confidence, Tony could merely nod and smile in response.
"Well," Dorothy chirped briskly, clapping her hands together and startling Tony slightly. "That's enough soppiness for one day, I think. I had better be going I've got grocery shopping to do."
Tony grinned and ducked his head. "Yeah . . . right. I'll see you next week then, Dorothy."
"See you next week, Hun," said Dorothy, patting him on the shoulder. Smiling at Megan she reached up, swept some hair out of the little girl's eyes, she then turned, collected her things, called out one final goodbye, and left.
Tony stood there for a few moments, bouncing Megan in his arms. "So . . . now what should we do?"
Gibbs stepped off the elevator and strolled leisurely towards Abby's lab, sipping from his coffee cup. The team still hadn't caught a case yet and were spending another morning stuck behind their desks going through cold case files, but for a change Gibbs didn't really mind; he was hoping to get away early so he could keep his promise to Tony and help make a start fixing up a bedroom for Megan. The sooner that kid had a permanent place to call her own the better he would feel. Gibbs was certain that having her own room would reassure Megan that her father wasn't about to abandon her like her mother had. He flinched slightly when he stepped into the lab and a screeching wail, coming from Abby's stereo, pierced his eardrums. God! How can she stand that garbage?
"Abby!" he barked irritably, raising his voice to be heard over the 'noise' – for he refused to regard it as music.
Abby glanced up from where she was sitting at her desk. "Hey, Gibbs!" she called out cheerfully, picking up her little remote and pointing it at the stereo; a few moments later the 'noise' was lowered to a more acceptable volume.
"Hi, Abs," he replied, his tone still retaining a smidge of grumpiness. "Brought ya something," he added, lifting the Caf-Pow he held in his other hand and waving it enticingly.
"Oh! You spoil me, Gibbs!" she chirped, flashing him a wide grin.
"I can always take it back if you don't wa–"
"NO! Gimme, gimme!" cried Abby, bolting out of her chair and clomping towards him as fast as her platform boots would allow. Gibbs chuckled as she snatched it out of his hand and took a loud, slurping sip from the straw. "Aaah!" she said when she was done. "Nothing like the first sip of a fresh Caf-Pow." Gibbs smirked and shook his head in amusement. "Ooh!" said Abby a moment later, seizing him by the arm – almost knocking his coffee to the floor – and dragging him to her computer. "I have to show you something! Wait to you see, it's so sweet! C'mon, c'mon!"
Switching his coffee to his other hand, Gibbs allowed himself to be towed into Abby's office. Once there the Goth dropped into her chair, set her Caf-Pow to one side, and began to type furiously at her keyboard. Setting his coffee cup on the desk next to Abby's drink, Gibbs leaned over the back of her chair so he had a better view of the computer screen.
"Look! Tony sent it to me," she explained, as an image popped up on the screen.
Gibbs blinked in surprise then a slow smile crept onto his face. The image was of Megan, she stood in the centre of the frame, a row of trees behind her, bathed in dappled sunlight, one of the beams of light was shining directly behind her head creating a gorgeous halo effect, and her little face was fixated on the delicate butterfly that was perched on her finger. It was a beautiful photograph and Gibbs couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his senior field agent; Tony hadn't been a father a week yet and already he was capturing memories of his newly found daughter.
"Isn't it awesome?" Abby asked enthusiastically. "I had no idea Tony could take such good photographs."
"You saying he takes lousy crime scene photos?" Gibbs asked teasingly.
"Noooo!" Abby protested, drawing out the word. "That's not what I – there's nothing wrong with – it's not – that's completely different!" she finished with a growl as Gibbs began to chuckle. "How is Tony anyway?" she asked, once Gibbs had settled down.
Gibbs smirked. "Experienced his first tantrum last night."
"Oooh, ouch," said Abby, wincing in sympathy. "How bad?"
"Well I had to stop one of his neighbors from busting down the door, and Tony looked close to tears himself."
"Yeesh," said Abby with a grimace. "So did you step in and show him how it's done, Bossman?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Something like that."
"So are you gonna check on Tony again tonight?"
"If we don't get a case I'm gonna help him set up a bedroom for Megan," explained Gibbs.
"Ooh! Ooh!" Abby chirped excitedly, bouncing in her seat. "Can I come, Gibbs? Pleeeeaassse! I haven't seen Tony in days!"
Gibbs smiled at her antics. "Sure, Abs."
"Yes!" cried Abby, punching the air. "I can tell Tony about all the great ideas I have for Megan's birthday party!"
"Birthday party?" asked Gibbs, arching an eyebrow.
"We have to have a party, Gibbs, this is Megan's first birthday with her new family; we need to make it as special as we possibly can!"
Gibbs sighed but held his tongue; he wasn't sure how Tony would react when he discovered he was having a birthday party whether he liked it or not, and knowing Abby it was bound to be a big, extravagant affair.
"I wonder if I could get my brother to come down with my niece at such short notice," Abby pondered, talking more to herself than Gibbs.
Aww hell, thought Gibbs, what have we got ourselves into?
Tony was having a great day. After Dorothy had left, Megan had gotten out her sketchpad and started drawing. Tony had watched her for about ten minutes and then decided to join in. Drawing had never been one of his strongpoints and Megan found his attempts to imitate her own fine works of art hysterical. After several stick figures, a cat that looked more like a snowman, something that vaguely resembled a dog, and a clumsily drawn flower, Megan got bored with their little art contest and went in search of something else to occupy her time. Tony had attempted to learn some more sign language, but fifteen minutes after opening his ASL dictionary there was a loud crash and Tony leaped off the couch to find a box of toys knocked to the ground – its contents strewn about the floor – and Megan rooting about in the box which had been under it, which was filled with fancy-dress clothes. From that box, Megan had pulled out a Harry Potter school robe, a pretend pair of round, black glasses, and a Harry Potter style toy wand. Tony couldn't help but laugh when Megan put on the robe and glasses and then waved the wand in his direction. She looked positively adorable swamped in that big wizard's robe, and with those glasses slipping down her nose. Rummaging through the box himself, Tony discovered another toy wand and a blue, pointy wizard's hat with silver moons and stars on it. He and Megan had then proceeded to take part in a mostly silent magic duel. After a particularly fancy twist of the wrist from Megan, Tony had clutched at his chest and dropped to the floor, a few seconds later the three-year-old had pounced on him and the two of them had engaged in some gentle roughhousing. By the time they finally settled down, Tony was gasping for air and his stomach muscles were cramping up from laughing so hard. Since it was just it was a little after noon, Tony had left Megan to play and gone to make them both some sandwiches for lunch. After that they'd settled down on the couch to watch a few movies.
Which was where they were at present, Megan – still in costume – was curled up at Tony's side, hugging Cubby to her chest and sucking on her thumb, and Tony had his feet propped up on the coffee table and his arms stretched across the back of the couch. They were slowly making their way through the DVDs Tony had purchased the previous day, so far they had watched Lady and the Tramp, Aladdin, Mary Poppins, and The Fox and the Hound. The movie they were currently watching, Monsters Inc, was one Tony had never seen before and he was surprised to find that he really enjoyed it. He had been worried that Megan might find the movie frightening because of the monsters, but except for flinching a few times at the beginning Megan seemed rather unfazed by it all, and she'd certainly laughed enough times to reassure him that she was enjoying the movie too. The sound of his cell phone suddenly going off caused Tony to jump in surprise which in turn caused Megan to flinch in alarm. Patting her reassuringly on the head, Tony leaned forward and snatched the cell phone off the coffee table. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
"DiNozzo," he said.
"Hi, honey, how's dinner coming along?" crooned an annoyingly familiar voice. Tony sighed irritably and slumped back against the couch. "You haven't even started yet, have you?" Steve said accusingly. Tony frowned but remained silent. "I slave away all night long writing up a consent document for you and you can't even prepare dinner for your dear, old friend?"
"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Tony said grumpily, hiding his amusement.
"Ouch, Tony, that . . . that really hurts," Steve said sarcastically. "Why don't you make it up to me by making dinner?" he added cheerfully.
Tony sighed again. "What do you want?" he asked wearily. He heard Steve chuckle triumphantly, and knew without having to see it that he was wearing that annoying smug grin of his. "Oh wait, lemme guess; lasagna right?"
"Got it in one, bro. And don't try and fob me off with some of that frozen crap, 'cause I'll know! I want the good, homemade stuff!"
"Hmm . . . I'm wondering if I should warn Lucy that this is the kind of treatment she should be expecting once you two finally get hitched," said Tony, causing his friend to laugh hysterically. Tony glared at his cell phone, waiting for Steve to settle down.
"Oh, Tony!" Steve eventually choked out, still laughing. "Don't get me wrong, I love Lucy to death, but the woman can't cook to save her life!"
"Stevo! Why didn't you say? I had no idea that you had decided to become a househusband," said Tony, smirking when the laugher came to an abrupt end. "I'm proud of yah, bro, this is very forward-thinking of you – I mean, if women can go out and have a career why can't men stay at home and play house? You go man!"
"Funny," said Steve, sounding anything but amused. "Very funny."
Tony chuckled in response. "So, when are you heading over?"
"I've got a few things I need to wrap up here, then I'll head home and change, then I'll swing by your place, so an hour, hour and a half tops."
"Guess I better get started then, huh?"
"Yeah, guess you better," Steve retorted, the smugness back in his voice.
"Alright then, I'll see you later."
"Bye, honey!" Steve replied mockingly, laughing when Tony made a sound of disgust.
Tony hung up the phone and glanced sideways at Megan, who was still engrossed with the movie. "Your uncle Steve is insane!" he told her matter-of-factly, before getting to his feet and heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
A short while later Tony glanced over his shoulder when he heard a key turn in the front door and in stepped Gibbs, dressed in an old Marine corps sweatshirt, baggy jeans and work boots, carrying with him what appeared to be an old tool bag.
"Hey, boss," he called out, getting a grunt and a nod in response.
"Everything go okay today?" Gibbs asked casually, setting his bag down on the floor next to the door, and glancing around the room.
"Yep," said Tony, with just a hint of smugness. "We had a great day."
Gibbs nodded. "Where's Megan?"
"On the couch watching TV," explained Tony.
Gibbs smirked, and crept towards the couch. Tony watched as the older agent leaned over the back of the couch, reached out a hand – and presumably tapped Megan on the head – before he hastily ducked down behind it for cover. Megan's little face suddenly appeared, as she leaned over the armrest and looked around, her eyes finally settling on Tony who was still in the kitchen. Tony shot her a wide grin, and Megan's brow furrowed in confusion before she leaned back and disappeared from view. Gibbs slowly stood up, tapped her again and quickly ducked down. Tony turned away just as Megan's suspicious little face popped out again. He could feel her eyes upon him for several minutes until she finally settled back down to watch her movie. Gibbs was outright grinning now as he slowly rose to his feet; this time however, Megan was ready for him. Gibbs' head had just appeared over the top of the sofa cushions when all of a sudden Megan popped up like a jack-in-the-box and smacked him smartly on the top of his head. Gibbs made a sound that could only be described as a yelp of surprise, which was quickly followed by a bark of laughter as he rose smoothly to his full height, picked Megan up, slung her over his shoulder and began to tickle her mercilessly. Tony, whose mouth had fallen open in shock, gaped at the pair of them for a few minutes until he felt his lips twitch and then he too was grinning and chuckling quietly to himself. He watched as Megan dangled from Gibbs' shoulder, laughing hysterically as the older man continued tickle her sides. After a few more minutes, Gibbs ran a soothing hand over Megan's back, rearranged her so he was now holding her in his arms, with her little legs wrapped around his ribcage, and then carried her towards the kitchen.
"Whatcha cooking?" Gibbs asked, leaning against the counter.
"Lasagna, boss," answered Tony, turning back to said dish.
"DiNozzo, why is she wearing glasses?" Gibbs asked in confusion, apparently just noticing them.
"They're not real, boss, we were just playing dress up today," Tony explained distractedly.
As Tony's back was turned, he didn't see Gibbs raise an eyebrow at him but he did hear the amusement in his boss' voice when he said: "We?"
Tony froze, feeling his face flush. Shoot!
Gibbs chuckled. "And what exactly did you dress up as?"
"Uh . . . nothing, boss," said Tony, studiously avoiding his leader's gaze.
"Really?" Gibbs said in a suspiciously light tone of voice, one that Tony didn't trust for an instant. He turned just in time to see Gibbs sitting Megan on top of the counter and then begin to sign to her. Tony gulped. Oh no! He wouldn't! Gibbs glanced up with a smirk on his lips. He would! "A wizard, Tony?" he asked incredulously. Aaaaagh! "I didn't realize you and McGee had so much in common," he continued teasingly, his smirk transforming into his famous half-smile.
"Hey! I resent that! And for your information I only wore the hat," he defended himself. "And I only did that because I was playing with Megs, there's nothing wrong with that is there?"
Gibbs' face registered surprise at first – which sort of confused Tony – then his eyes crinkled at the corners as one of those rare and magnificent grins lit up his face and he shook his head slightly. "Nope, nothing wrong with that at all, Tony," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
After that Tony focused on finishing up dinner while Gibbs occupied Megan. Not long after he had stuck the lasagna in the oven, there was a loud knock at the door closely followed by a call of: "Honey! I'm home!" Tony sighed, and rolled his eyes heavenward. Gibbs, who was stretched out on the floor by the couch playing with Megan and her toys, glanced up and frowned at the door.
"Who the hell is that?" he asked suspiciously.
"Don't worry, boss, it's just my Frat brother Steve," Tony assured him, making his way toward the door. A huge, boyish grin greeted him as he pulled it open. Steve had clearly been home already since he wore a blue checked shirt – which was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows – over a white T-shirt, a pair of blue denim jeans, and sneakers. His blonde hair was still damp, presumably from a hasty shower. In his hand he carried a large brown envelope.
"Is he here yet?" Steve asked in a loud stage whisper. An evil smirk twisted Tony's lips, and he nodded, stepping aside to let his friend enter. Steve practically hopped across the threshold in his eagerness to meet with Tony's formidable boss. "Here you go," he said, shoving the envelope into Tony's chest. "Take a look at that and tell me if there's anything you want me to change."
"Thanks," said Tony, biting back a grin of anticipation.
Steve's eyes scanned the room and settled upon the silver-haired man sitting on the floor next to little Megan. Aha, he thought triumphantly. The man stared back at him with a cool and assessing gaze. Not in the least bit perturbed by the man's standoffish expression, Steve pulled on his most charming smile and made a beeline towards the man.
"Hi!" he said emphatically, sticking out his hand. "I'm Steven Adler, and you must be Leroy Jethro second-B-for-bastard Gibbs, a.k.a Tony's boss."
Gibbs stared at Steve's hand, then slowly raised his eyes to the younger man's face but otherwise didn't respond or move to shake his hand.
Steve's smile faltered for a moment as he awkwardly dropped his arm by his side. Behind him, Tony choked back a laugh as he watched his friend receive the standard 'Gibbs-greeting'. Recovering himself, Steve plowed on with his attempt to engage the ex-marine in conversation.
"So, uh . . . Tony tells me you used to be a marine," he said. Stony silence answered him. Tony winced, thinking to himself, 'once a marine always a marine'. "You must have some pretty interesting war stories, huh?" Oh it's like watching a train-wreck, thought Tony suppressing another grin. Gibbs just continued to stare at Steve blankly. Steve, clearly uncomfortable now, cleared his throat and absently scratched his chin. "Did you really build a boat in your basement?" he tried again, genuinely curious since he was still convinced Tony had made that one up. Gibbs' only response was to arch one eyebrow slightly. Tony was now huddled by the door, silently quaking with laughter. "Ah . . . how 'bout I tell you a little 'bout myself?" Steve continued stubbornly, determined to get an actual response from this damned man. "Well I . . . uh I met Tony back in college and . . . um . . . I'm a lawyer by trade …" he trailed off when Gibbs' gaze seemed to harden and his eyebrows contracted into a small frown. Behind them, Tony snorted and made a sound suspiciously like a giggle, hastily retreating to the kitchen when Steve threw a glare in his direction.
Steve turned back to Gibbs and sighed, conceding defeat. He turned his attention to Megan, who had a small plastic horse clutched in one hand, and had been watching the exchange with interest. He gave her a wide smile, which she returned shyly, and tweaked her playfully on the nose.
"Hey, Tony," he called over his shoulder. "Is it alright if I pick her up?"
"She look like a dog to you?" growled Gibbs suddenly, startling Steve.
"Uh . . . n-no," he stammered nervously, quailing slightly under the intensity of the glare he was now receiving. "Um . . . I'm just gonna," he muttered vaguely, waving in the direction of the kitchen and all but running towards it.
Tony met him with an infuriatingly smug grin. Steve could have punched him! He glanced warily over his shoulder, almost collapsing in relief when he saw that Gibbs had turned his attention back to the three-year-old girl by his side. His head whipped back round to his friend; an incredulous expression written across his face.
"Holy crap!" he hissed. "You weren't kidding about that guy! And you put up with him every day! Willingly! Were you dropped on your head as an infant?"
Tony seemed to consider the question a moment. "It's possible," he said mildly with a little smirk on his lips.
"Certainly would explain a lot, DiNozzo."
Steve nearly jumped a foot in the air and squeaked – actually squeaked – in alarm, spinning around on the spot and coming face to face with the steely eyed ex-marine who was now casually leaning his elbows on the counter. He was more than a little disconcerted to see the small smirk curling the corner of Gibbs' mouth. Oh please, tell me he didn't hear what I just said!
"What's in the envelope, Tony?" Gibbs asked, not taking his eyes off Steve.
There was laughter in Tony's voice when he answered. "It's a consent document, boss, so I can get full custody of Megan; that way her mother can't try to take her back," he explained.
Gibbs' eyes finally shifted away from Steve and settled upon Tony, a look of approval washing over his features. "That's good thinking, Tony."
"Well actually it was my …" The words died on Steve's lips when the icy blue eyes came to rest upon him again.
Tony chuckled. "Thanks, boss," he said, patting Steve sympathetically on the back. "Keep an eye on dinner for me, Stevo, so I can look at this," he instructed, waving the envelope in his hand.
"You bet yah!" Steve replied gratefully, breaking eye contact from the stern ex-marine with a sense of relief.
Tony pulled the document out of the envelope and settled against the counter across from Gibbs. He read through it twice, finding no problems with it, before handing it to Gibbs who had been hovering over him impatiently to see it for himself. All three men glanced up when there was a sudden knock at the door. Tony frowned in confusion; his two guests were already here and he wasn't expecting anyone else so who could it possibly be. Hmm, only one way to find out I suppose, he thought, making his way toward the door. He'd barely gotten the door open when there was a startling cry of "TONY!" and then a familiar red and black clad figure leapt into his arms, he instinctively caught the whirlwind that was Abby with a grunt. Unfortunately, the force of her impact knocked him off balance and before he could so much as flail his arms in order to right it, he felt himself plummeting backwards toward the ground. He got out a strangled cry of "ABBY!" just moments before they hit the floor with an almighty thud which knocked all the air out of his lungs. He lay sprawled out on his back for several moments, dazed and dizzy, with Abby's weight pressing down upon him, staring up at the ceiling and struggling to get his breath back; no mean feat.
"Oops," said Abby guiltily.
"Abs, could you please refrain from trying to break my senior field agent?" Gibbs requested sarcastically.
"Sorry, Tony," Abby mumbled, pulling back so she could look him in the face and blushing crimson. "I've just missed you."
"S'okay," he choked out breathlessly. He winced as Abby moved to push herself off of him and his back gave a little twinge of pain. Aw crap, he thought miserably, not again. As Abby stood up Gibbs' face appeared upside down in his line of vision.
"You alright?" he asked gruffly.
"Define alright," replied Tony jokingly with a little groan, earning himself that infamous half-smile.
"C'mon," Gibbs grunted, stepping around Tony and holding out his hand. Tony sighed and grasped hold of the calloused fingers, letting the older man pull him to his feet. He swayed for a moment, feeling his head spin and throb from where he'd hit it, then let out a squeaky yelp as Abby enveloped him in another crushing bear hug. Gibbs kept a steadying hand on his back to stop him falling over again.
"We've really missed you at the office, Tony! Its sooo boring without you there," Abby gushed.
"Let him breathe, Abs," Gibbs chided gently.
"Oh sorry," she responded meekly, loosening her grip but not releasing the Italian just yet.
Tony rolled his eyes but stood there patiently, unable to return the hug since Abby had his arms pinned at his sides, he knew from experience that it was best to just let her get it out of her system otherwise her head just might explode; and he certainly didn't want that, for one thing it would be extremely messy.
"Uh . . . excuse me," Steve's voice suddenly called out from the kitchen. Gibbs, Tony and Abby all turned to look at him. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on? Like who you are?" he asked, directing the second question to Abby.
Tony grinned at the confused expression on his friend's face. "Steve, this is the lovely Miss Abigail Sciuto, Abs, this is my fraternity brother Steve Adler."
Abby released Tony from her embrace and bounced towards the kitchen, sticking out her hand when she got within reach of the young lawyer. Somewhat warily, Steve accepted the rather exuberant handshake the Goth bestowed upon him.
"Hi, I work with Tony at NCIS, I'm a fo–"
"Forensic scientist," Steve interrupted, realization dawning on his face. "Yeah, Tony's mentioned you . . . however, he never told me how interesting and attractive you are," he finished, pulling that charming grin onto his handsome features.
Tony rolled his eyes again. Oh, here we go! Abby beamed at Steve, and then threw a mock glare in Tony's direction.
"Did he now?" she asked teasingly, narrowing her eyes at Tony who just grinned unrepentantly in response. She turned back to Steve, a gleam in her light green eyes. "Well I've heard all about you," she said smugly.
"Have you now?" he asked, raking his eyes over her figure appreciatively and reminding himself he was already spoken for.
"Mmmhmm," said Abby, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. "Is it true you have a tattoo on your pelvis right above your naughty bits?"
A surprised snort of laughter left Tony's mouth as all the color drained from Steve's face and the smile slipped off his lips. After a few minutes of stunned silence, Steve's mouth began to flap open and closed but no words came out. He swung round and fixed Tony with an accusing glare.
Tony held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, don't look at me! I didn't even know you had a tattoo, never mind down there!"
"Then how –?" Steve began, frowning at Abby in confusion.
"Abby's very resourceful," Gibbs explained with a smirk.
Abby gave Steve a mysterious smile, leaving him standing there as she all but skipped towards Megan to give one of her special 'Abby-greetings'. Steve watched her go; feeling bemused, and then turned an incredulous expression on to his friend.
"You have some very . . . odd friends at NCIS, Tony," he said at length.
"You have noooo idea," Tony returned, smirking unabashedly. "So . . . just what is your tattoo of exactly?" he asked curiously.
Steve groaned. He was never going to hear the end of this!