a/n - a couple of things this morning. First off, thank you to hostaqueen for her reminder to people. If a reader hates McGee, then why are they bothering to read my stories? Second, my apologies. I meant to post this yesterday, but I got sidetracked researching inheritance taxes in Pennsylvania. Just so that you know, when the direct descendant is over the age of 21, it's a tax rate of 4.5%. Children under the age of 21 and spouses do not pay anything. Siblings pay a rate of 12% and others pay a rate of 15%. Pennsylvania is only one of a handful of states that has an inheritance tax instead of an estate tax. Your lesson for the day. Now onto the story. A shorter chapter today, but that's where it needed to break.

"Hello, Jethro. I've come to pay my condolences."

Gibbs barely had the front door unlocked when Chuck Winslow opened it and walked in. "Chuck," Gibbs gave him a nod before moving back to the register to finish getting ready for the day.

Winslow wandered around, picking things up and putting them back down. "I must admit I was surprised when I heard you were running the store."

"It's the only store in town. Somebody needs to." Gibbs was keenly aware of where the other man was, but refused to look up at him, instead concentrating on counting out the cash for the day.

"That's what I came to talk to you about." Pleasantries over, Winslow stood in front of Gibbs. "I'd like to make an offer on the store, bring it under the Winslow umbrella."

"It's the last step in making this a real company town, right, Chuck?"

"I'm glad we see eye to eye. I'll have my lawyer write up an offer for you and drop it off later today or tomorrow. We can have this whole thing settled before the funeral. That's Sunday, right?"

Sunday funerals had been the tradition in Stillwater as long as Gibbs could remember. Probably because it was the only day Winslow Mining would allow all of their employees to miss. He thought about throwing a monkey wrench in the works by setting a different day, but the whole town was also assuming the same thing and already planning for it. "Yeah, Sunday."

"Good." Winslow picked up an apple from the pile and took a bite. Gibbs cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look and Winslow tossed a dollar on the counter as he walked out the door.

Picking up the wadded bill, Gibbs smoothed it out before placing it in the cash register. The store was the one place Winslow Mining had never been able to touch. Jackson had resisted every effort to accept a partnership or even a loan from his former employer.

He felt his father's presence in this place even more than in the home he'd grown up in. "Ah, hell, Dad, what did you expect me to do with the store? I wish you'd told me what you wanted." His phone rang at that moment, the timing causing him to blink, then chuckle at himself as he answered it. "Yeah, Gibbs."

Is there a printer there, maybe under the counter?

Gibbs automatically looked without questioning Tim as to why. "Yeah, there is. A pretty new one, even got a cable attached to it. That's to connect it to his laptop?"

Yep. See you in a minute.

"Wait. You sure you should walk over here? I can run back and get it."

No, that's okay. Besides, the delivery truck should be there any time.

Sure enough, a box van was coming down the main street toward the store. "Yeah, I think they're here.

Be there in a minute.

Distracted by his worry for Tim, Gibbs didn't react at first when the delivery driver handed him the invoice marked COD. It was only when the driver stood there, refusing to unload, that Gibbs read the amount, noting the pencil scribble through the usual payment method, making it almost impossible to read.

"Nothing personal, but the boss wants cash today instead of a check. The bank probably won't accept a check if the old man is dead."

Gibbs eyes narrowed at the crass statement, but he knew that technically the driver was right. Sighing, he walked into the storeroom and started to open the safe. Luckily, he hadn't made the bank deposit yet as the register didn't contain enough cash to cover it. Before he could open the safe he heard the bell on the back door, then Tim's voice, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Ah, you're here, good. Give me just a second to print up our copy of the paid invoice and then I'll check off everything you delivered."

Now that his mother's curtain was down, Gibbs was able to lean against the doorway and glare of the driver as he started to defend his actions.

"After the owner of the account dies, the bank can stop any payment on the account. We just..."

"Then it's a good thing the payment went through the day before Jackson passed, isn't it? That way we don't have to discuss your limited knowledge of banking practices." Tim had the laptop plugged into the printer and it was already churning out the needed page. "I've also verified with the bank that they funds were transferred. Would you like a printout of that, too?"

"No. Thwarted in his attempt, the driver went out to the truck and started unloading. Gibbs watched in amusement as Tim checked every carton, making the driver count every bottle of milk and open every carton of eggs to check for breakage. Once that was done and Tim mentioned calling the head office to discuss the breakdown in billing information, three cases of yogurt were added as a 'condolence gift' to the regular order.

Finally letting loose with the chuckle that had been building, Gibbs walked over and wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders as they watched the truck pull away. "That was amazing to watch, but what are we going to do with all that yogurt? I'm not sure anyone in Stillwater eats yogurt."

Tim was enjoying the sensation of Jethro's arm around him. "Everybody eats yogurt."

"I don't eat yogurt." Gibbs eyes widened as Tim got very still pressed up against him. "Tim?"

Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, Tim shifted enough to look him in the eye. "You know the deli on J Street that we get lunch from sometimes?"

"Yeah..." It was on their regular lunch rotation and Gibbs really liked the place, except for their coleslaw. It was way too sweet for his taste.

"And you don't like the coleslaw, so we always get you the fruit salad..."

"With the creamy strawberry dressing. Yeah, that's pretty good, what about it?" In the silence, Gibbs used his investigative skills. "That's yogurt?"

"And the really good soft-serve ice cream that Ellie brought back last week? That wasn't exactly ice cream."

"It wasn't?"

"Nope. That was frozen yogurt."

"Well, hell." Being fooled once was bad enough, but twice?

"And the dollop of what looks like sour cream on the lentil soup Tony brings back from the curry shop?"

Gibbs realized that the creamy swirl on his favorite soup from there was a little tangier than the sour cream he put on his baked potatoes. "That's yogurt, too?"

"Actually, it's tofu." Tim kept a straight face for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter and Gibbs could only imagine the expression on his own face.

"You brat." Shaking his head he laughed, too, until Tim started coughing. "Easy, you okay?"

"Yeah." Tim had to stop and cough again. "Totally worth it to see you laugh."

It felt good to laugh again with someone he loved and he laughed again as he pulled Tim close. "My brat." He felt Tim's arms tighten around him.

"Always."

Gibbs returned the squeeze and topped it off with a kiss. Life was too short to miss a moment and it started today.

The delivery was done so Gibbs put the sign on the door that stated 'back in twenty minutes' and steered Tim out of the building. Locking the door behind them, he pointed out the barber shop several doors down and across the street. "Come on, let's go get your x-ray."