As soon as the words were out of his mouth Tony knew he should take then back. They both knew he would never want to endanger Gibbs' career like that. The guidelines for NCIS Agents using appropriate force were clearly laid out. And they didn't include unprovoked assaults, even on a person of interest in an ongoing investigation. Except, DiNozzo couldn't bring himself to say he didn't mean it. More than anyone Tony knew how easily Gibbs could circumvent the rules when he wanted to. Sands, Matthews and Brooker, all cam e to mind, the former Marine could intimidate without leaving a mark, or an evidence trail, which meant his Boss had deliberately chosen not to have his six over this.

And that hurt more than his father's indifference.

"Ever since everything went to hell in a hand basket in Baltimore," He reminded his Boss. "You've always had my six. But now when I need you to step up you come over all Mr Congeniality."

"Wanted to deck him." Gibbs admitted quietly.

Tony's head came around sharply at the soft admission, his eyes searching Gibbs' expression and finding nothing but sincerity. Holding his Boss' gaze, he waited, silently telegraphing his need for further clarification.

"Figured I was doing you a favour, making nice," Gibbs shrugged apologetically. He had almost lost it, straight off the bat when them man had introduced himself as the 'real' Tony DiNozzo, then nearly slapped him silly when he tried giving him the run-around. "The man's still your father. Wasn't about to forget that."

Tony blinked and something tight inside of him uncoiled slightly as he realised that the former marine had only been trying to do the honourable thing. Meeting Gibbs' gaze his expression softened slightly as his eyes offered his understanding of what his Boss had been trying to do.

"Sometimes I think we're related in name only," Tony admitted ruefully. "I mean, he looks like me, perhaps even sounds a lot like me, but we've always been poles apart on the things that really matter."

"You' ve always called him, Dad," Gibbs observed mildly. "Didn't figure things could be so bad between you."

"That's what kids are supposed to call their fathers, isn't it? I didn't want to be different," Tony dredged up a thin smile. "At school, I'd see the other fathers come and pick their kids up for the vacations and there would always be something a hug, an arm around the shoulders, or a tousle of the hair, as they talked about school and what they were going to do over the holidays. My Dad usually sent the housekeeper or the gardener to collect me. Sometimes, it seemed like the only way I could get his undivided attention was to act out."

Gibbs clenched his jaw as he thought of the bereaved child, almost doubly orphaned, by his absentee father. Left to watch other kids play happy families, desperate for the same love and affection in his own life. No wonder his senior field Agent's sense of self-worth was so closely linked to his need for attention. His father had a lot to answer for and Gibbs knew he hadn't been much better since DiNozzo Snr had arrived in town. He should have been in DiNozzo's face, demanding to know what was going on with him, not leaving him to flounder.

"You know, when I was a kid. I always hoped that if I was smarter, or funnier, or just better company he might actually want to spend time with me, rather than chasing the latest business deal or rich divorcee," Tony shook his head ruefully. "How dumb is that?"

"You're not a kid anymore," Gibbs pointed out. "You want his attention, ask for it."

"It's that simple?" Tony raised a brow.

"If you want it to be," Gibbs allowed. "I hear the rooftop grill at the Adams House does a great rib eye."

"And we have a case." Tony reminded him.

"As soon as the Prince finishes his check flight he'll be out of our hair," Gibbs shrugged. "You'll have the time."

"I always do, he's the one that always cancels," Tony sighed. "Maybe, I'd have better luck with him if I wore a dress and a pair of heels."

Gibbs heard the yearning under the blasé tone. DiNozzo wanted a closer relationship with his father. As much as he didn't want to want it, he still did. Gibbs could understand that. As old as he was he still wanted his father in his life.

"You do have good legs." He observed dryly.

That got him a bark of laughter and more importantly a loosening of the younger man's shoulders and something of a return to DiNozzo's usual equilibrium, as the younger man made an effort to straighten up, tugged his suit jacket back into place, achieving something close to normality.

"Ask him." Gibbs nudged, not exactly an order but a clear expectation.

"Boss .." Tony began, only to be cut off as Gibbs' phone demanded attention.

"That'll be Ziva," The team lead briefly checked the caller ID. "Need to transport the Prince for his check ride."

Tony nodded silently. Not expecting anything more as they turned their attention back to the case, when his Boss paused and offered him a small half smile of encouragement, tapping him lightly under the chin, before leaving it was a welcome reminder that he wasn't alone in this. As he stood alone in the break room, he reached up and touched the spot, still warm from Gibbs fingers, as if seeking reassurance and a soft, fond smile spread across his face. He should have know that Gibbs wouldn't leave him hanging.

Even so, he wasn't prepared for what his Boss actually did.

Mindful of his promise to Gibbs, not to let his father out of his sight, Tony had no choice but to bite his tongue and settle himself into McGee's desk when he returned from the break room to find that his father had made himself at home and was using the phone in his workspace.

"Junior, can you get me into this thing?" His father waved at his computer once he ended his call.

"Don't you think you've sent enough e-mails for one day?"

"That depends," His father fixed him with a knowing glance. "Do you want me to fix that problem with the bank for you or not?"

"This isn't a Cyber Cafe, Dad," Tony protested. "There's all sorts of secret, Navy stuff on there."

"And I'm presuming that all those programmes are protected by their own passwords. I'm not going to try to open any files. I just need to access the internet. Unless, you really do think I'm some kind of International Terrorist?"

"No, of course not." Tony admitted defeat, coming over and tapping in the password to unlock his monitor. "Just the Internet. And just a few minutes. I've got a lot of work to do."

Almost thirty minutes later he was beginning to feel decidedly twitchy. If he didn't have anything for Gibbs when the man returned with Ziva from dropping Prince Sayif for his check ride, he would look like a dweeb. As things turned out the problem of ejecting his father from his desk was taken out of his hands when the man's business was finally concluded and he decided to leave. Catching Gibbs look, Tony was pleased with his quick thinking in offering "Very Special Probationary Agent" Ziva David as a tour guide, right up until the point when Gibbs interceeded.

"I'm flashing back, boarding school, headmaster wants to speak to my Dad."

Those meetings had never boded well for Tony. At least, this time he was sure that his Boss had his best interests at heart. Whatever passed between him and his father, he trusted Gibbs to do right by him. The man might not be the most verbose or elegant speaker in the word and he certainly wouldn't win any prizes for ass-kissing on the hill. But he knew how to get his message across. Even so, he couldn't help but wonder what they might be saying about him. Trying to take his mind off it by focusing on his work, he had barely opened a file when his father came striding back into the bullpen.

"Junior, call me a cab, I'm going back to the Hotel."

"Dad?"

Tony's head came up sharply at his father's abrupt return, only minutes after his departure with Gibbs. Craning his neck slightly, he cast a worried look at Ziva when he realised his Boss was no-where in sight. Swiftly, looking his father over, he couldn't see any evidence of a fight, but something had stripped away the genial countenance DiNozzo Snr had been sporting around his NCIS colleagues. Half-rising from his seat, he wondered what Gibbs could possibly have said to make the man that pissed.

"Don't bother, I'll do it myself."

Impatient, his father reached over and picked up his desk phone, punching in the number for an outside line, before pulling the card for a local cab company from his pocket. His mind already working overtime, Tony desperately tried to think of a reason to keep his father in the building, he swiftly moved around his desk, 'accidently' catching his foot in the phone cord and pulling the whole thing onto the floor.

"Junior!"

"I got it, I got it," Tony assured him, bending down to pick up the apparatus and making a big deal of checking it over as he frantically tried to delay. "I don't think it's broken."

"Will you just give me that?"

Tony hesitated, only to be saved by the bell as the elevator dinged, and Abby emerged carrying a couple of manila folders. As she headed in their direction, she immediately caught DiNozzo Snr's attention.

"Are you here to see me?" He flirted.

"Actually," Tony swiftly cut in. "She is. Seeing as your tour with Special Agent Gibbs was obviously cut short, Abby has volunteered to be your own personal guide to everything NCIS."

"I have?" Abby blinked, then quickly played along. "Of course, I have."

"I like the idea of that," DiNozzo Snr smiled. "You're certainly a lot better looking than Agent Gibbs."

"Except," Abby bit her lip. "I just have to go up and show these test results to the Director. It won't take a minute. Why don't you get Tony here to take you to my lab and I'll meet you down there. We can start the tour from there?"

"Well?" His father looked at him. "Lead the way, Junior."

In the elevator, the two men stood silently side by side, neither speaking as the car made the short journey down to Abby's lab. As they emerged, DiNozzo Snr occupied a few moments looking at the art on the walls and the various pieces of machinery. Behind him, Tony simply lent against the wall and waited.

"So, don't you want to know what Agent Gibbs and I talked about during his little tour?" His father asked, without turning.

"Well unless you've taken up boat building since we last met, I'm assuming it was about me," Tony shrugged. "It's not like the two of you have a whole lot else in common."

"He said you were the best young Agent he's ever worked with."

Tony was glad that his father still had his back to him, so he didn't see the surprise that rippled across his face. He knew it would be misunderstood. He wasn't surprised that Gibbs felt that way. If he had ever had any doubts Gibbs had proved it ten times over when he fought to have him recalled from the Seahawk. But he was slightly astonished that his Boss had simply come out and said it. Schooling his expression, he couldn't resist the opportunity.

"I know." He said simply.

As he'd expected, his quiet confidence was enough to make his father turn to look at him, raising a slightly mocking brow.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I'm good at my job," Tony allowed. "Gibbs wouldn't have kept me around otherwise."

DiNozzo Snr turned away again and made a big show of looking at one of Abby's pictures, bending a little and leaning closer as if focusing on a specific detail, as he carefully weighed his next words.

"What happened to his daughter?"

"He spoke to you about Kelly?" From this angle, DiNozzo could see the way his son stiffened at his words as if shot, his face draining of all colour, before flushing an awkward crimson. Then he spoke softly, almost as if talking to himself. "He doesn't usually talk about her."

"Kelly, huh? That's a pretty name," DiNozzo Snr continued smoothly, as if he hadn't noticed the shocked reaction. "How old was she when she died?"

Tony pressed his lips together. Even to offer up that small piece of information seemed like a betrayal of Gibbs most personal and most painful confidences. He couldn't help recalling all the times Gibbs had answered stranger's questions about whether or not he had children with a simple 'no'. But his Boss had obviously mentioned his little girl to try and show his father what he was missing out on with his living, breathing, son. Feeling awed and slightly humbled by the lengths his Boss was prepared to go to, to have his six Tony knew that he had no choice but to reciprocate that courage in putting himself - and his own long feelings - on the line.

"She was eight." He spoke quietly.

His father looked up, obviously startled that the little girl had died so young. As their eyes met, Tony spoke once again.

"The same age I was when Mum died."

The words hung between them in a silence filled with meaning. Tony's English mother had always encouraged him to use the traditional British "Mum" or "Mummy" with her. She always said it was because it was what she was used to from her own childhood. It had been a special thing between them. When talking to other people Tony had always referred to her as 'my mother' but within the family tradition had always held strong.

"Junior," His father sighed.

"Look Dad," Tony pressed on, determined to honour Gibbs' courage with a little of his own. "We're busy with the case right now. But as soon as he finishes his check flight Sayif won't be our problem any more. Let's get together over dinner and really catch up. My treat."

He waited, realising that he had already braced himself for rejection, was wondering what the excuse would be this time, was so focused on all the other times his father had broken arrangements, promises and reneged on countless father/son activities that he barely heard the unexpected answer.

"I'd like that, Junior," His father agreed. "How about the Rooftop Grill at the Adams House? I haven't made it up there yet this time and their Rib-Eye is the best in town."