Gibbs glared at the phone as it sat on the coffee table, even gave it his best intimidating stare, yet it simply sat there and refused to ring. He'd broken murderers with less, intimidated terrorists … but the phone lay inanimate and silent. Deciding he needed to focus on something else, his attention wandered back to ESPN and he spent a few moments dully wondering when the soccer game had turned into a golf match. The droning play-by-play of the shots probably explained why Tony had his nose pressed to Gibbs' outer thigh and was softly snoring, though. He wasn't quite sure when that had happened either; he remembered some halfhearted attempts to distract him from his vigil but Tony had obviously given up, and when he'd laid his head in Gibbs' lap, Gibbs had stroked fingers through the light brown hair, separating the strands.

One of his exes -- he wasn't even sure which one anymore, the trio of them combining into a kind of single, red-haired, spousal nightmare – had accused him of such singlemindedness while on a case that he'd forget she existed.

He laid a hand on Tony's head, softly, so as not to wake him.

In his current singlemindedness he'd done the same thing – been so concerned about protecting Tony that he'd ignored him. Not just tonight. The last few days as well. He contemplated this a few moments before giving Tony's shoulder a gentle shake.

"Hey, Tony."

He leaned forward trying to see the sleepy eyes blink open and got back an unintelligible, "Mmm?"

When he brushed his lips against Tony's temple he got a more contented hum.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

Tony rolled his head up and peered suspiciously at him. "You sure you're finished watchin' the phone?"

"Rather watch you," replied Gibbs.

"I don't ring either," observed Tony rubbing a hand over his sleepy eyes, looking for all the world like a much larger version of a tired Sam.

"But I can make you purr," said Gibbs.

Tony huffed out a short laugh then conceded, "Yeah, you can."

"Come on," Gibbs pushed Tony upright.

"We gonna see if I can purr?" asked Tony, his sweet tone marred by the wicked grin and the low throaty growl that followed.

Gibbs grinned back and was just leaning in toward him when the phone finally rang shrilly. Tony's smile dissolved and he leaned back against the sofa with a sigh while

Gibbs scooped up the phone.

Tony squinted, trying to make out the expression on Gibbs' face, as listening to the one-sided conversation only netted him a handful of "yeses" and a "we understand." Gibbs' "thank you" though was quietly heartfelt and Tony straightened, "She agreed?"

"She agreed," said Gibbs with a deep breath, running a palm over his open mouth.

Concerned, Tony rubbed a hand along Gibbs' back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I –" Gibbs simply fell silent.

Tony put his other hand over Gibbs' clenched fist and found it was trembling. "Hey," he said softly, working his fingers into the clenched ones.

"I might have mentioned before that I don't lose well," admitted Gibbs, smiling wanly.

"You didn't lose," noted Tony.

Gibbs frowned in the table's direction "Took that phone a long time to ring."

Tony's free hand moving up to cup Gibbs' head and he planted a kiss on the silver hair. "I've learned never to doubt you, Gibbs."

"Never?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, I don't think you should be left alone with an innocent PDA, but apart from that I'm fully convinced there's nothing you can't do."

Shifting, Gibbs took Tony in his arms. "You're a bad liar, Agent DiNozzo."

"My non-work talents may lie elsewhere," offered Tony, leaning into the cradle of Gibbs' arms, giving a tender nibble to his neck.

Abby worried her lower lip between white incisors and stared at the empty desk with her hands balled on her hips.

"Where's bossman?"

"Took a day off," replied Tony, preparing to pop his headphones on.

Abby turned and watched as his fingers skimmed them, settling the earpieces into place, Tony's gaze not quite on either the monitor, the headphones held in his hands, or her.

Bad day, she knowingly translated from the way he was using his hands to replace his gaze.

When her hand settled warmly on his shoulder, he smiled up at her. "I'm okay. Vision was a little shot this morning."

"Gibbs know?" she asked.

"Abby …" The warning was low and soft, but pointed enough for her to pat him conciliatorily.

"Going," she made it as far as the front of the desk. "This is me going."

"This is you not going very quickly," observed Tony, but the retort was softened with a grin.

"'Kay," she muttered, "I'm leaving you alone."

She looked back over her shoulder and, satisfied that she'd go undetected, slipped into McGee's space at Tony's old desk. She crouched down beside a startled McGee, grinning up at him when a rather … anticipatory light shone from his eyes.

"It's not what you think."

McGee's full lips pursed. "Damn."

It earned him a swat on the thigh.

"Keep an eye on Tony, would ya?"

McGee frowned in the direction of his colleague.

"The vision thing is a little rough this morning and Gibbs isn't here."

"I got his back," confirmed McGee.

"Good," Abby grinned again. "You get his back and, tonight, I'll get your … front."

McGee sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I hate it when you do this, you know?"

Abby swatted him again. "No, you don't."

Gibbs knew wood – knew the strength of white oak, the durability of teak, the dense resistance of greenheart and the hardness of ironwood. And, as he sat in the gracefully appointed lobby and rubbed his hand over the inlay of the small table in front of him, his fingers glided above the light, close grain of the holly and the dark, mahogany-like Brazilwood.

"You admire antiques."

Gibbs looked up sharply. Albert DiNozzo was shorter than his son and Gibbs suspected, if he rose, that even he might have an inch or so on him. He was also stockier than Tony, even before MS stole pounds Tony didn't need to lose.

"I admire good craftsmanship," returned Gibbs, smoothing a final touch over the lacquered grain. "A job well done."

"So you're Special Agent Gibbs."

It wasn't a question and Gibbs stood up, equaling their heights, not about to accept the coming interrogation sitting down.

"Perhaps we should take this conversation into my office," Al DiNozzo raised a hand toward the open door of his sanctum.

Like the waiting area, the office was scaled to impress. Big enough to hold the government-issue cubicles of Gibbs' entire staff, it held, instead, a massive cherry desk that was swept clean except for the obligatory leather desk accessories. Across the wall were scattered photos of Tony's father with various politicians and richly framed award certificates. Al DiNozzo sat in the high-backed leather chair behind the desk and gestured toward the pair of brocade covered seats in front of it.

"Please sit down, Special Agent Gibbs. May I call you Jethro?"

"Sure," Gibbs acquiesced, settling in the offered seat.

"You must know that everything I do, I do only with my son's best interests at heart."

Gibbs merely studied him.

"Anthony has never known what's good for him." Al DiNozzo gestured around the spacious quarters. "I built this. Well not the company, as such, but what the company became. Built it for my family."

"And Tony wasn't sufficiently grateful," concluded Gibbs. "So you disinherited him."

"The decision was Anthony's. I gave him an opportunity at the finest education. He attended the finest prep schools. I could have gotten him into Yale or Oxford. Into the Sorbonne. Instead, he took a football scholarship, worked construction in the summer to make ends meet." Tony's father clasped his hands together on the desktop and leaned forward. "My offer still holds: a master's degree from Kellogg or Wharton with a vice-president's slot when he's done. Anthony is aware that he'd be welcomed back into the fold."

"You hired Price," stated Gibbs plainly, wanting to get to the point.

"I did," acknowledged Al DiNozzo.

"You have no right to take Tony's son."

"I have every right. My son is clearly profligate. I can more than easily provide the child with a more," Tony's father paused, making his point clear, "…normal upbringing. The child's mother has a right to choose."

Gibbs ignored the jibe regarding their relationship. "The child's father also has rights."

"We'll let the courts decide," Al DiNozzo concluded, shuffling some papers, not looking back up.

Gibbs realized he'd been dismissed and he rose smoothly, his fact-finding trip clearly over and the facts just as he'd suspected they would be.

"Perhaps we'll meet again, Special Agent Gibbs," was called out as he reached the door and he looked back over his shoulder at the man who'd inadvertently blessed him with the greatest gift of his life … Tony.

"I'm sure we will Mr. DiNozzo," he replied. "I'm sure we will."

(tbc)

Sorry this took a while. Holidays, RL, work ... I'm behind in everything. Thanks to C and Aly for reading the rough stuff. Any mistakes are all mine. Thanks for the feedback that I haven't gotten around to thanking anybody for. blush I promise to reform after New Years. Really. It's on my resolution list. Happy Holidays!