Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews. I know my strong feelings about certain characters have come through in this story, hope no one is offended.

Still Sunday

Tony spent most of the morning playing punching bag while Jeanne read a book and drank a fine chardonnay. After awhile, her father grew impatient with her and ordered the bodyguards to stop and clean the injured agent up.

"Jeanne," he said firmly, "that is quite enough. I'm sure that Monsieur DiNozzo has received your message and regrets his actions, is that not so, Tony?"

"Oh yeah," Tony mumbled, spitting out blood, "I regret everything."

Jeanne's eyes narrowed, "Everything, huh?"

"Now, now," Benoit moved between his daughter and Tony, "I said that is enough. Why don't you go and calm yourself down, that's a good girl." He kissed Jeanne on the temple and shooed her away gently.

Shaking his head, Benoit turned to Tony. "You really should not bait her like that, Tony," he said reproachfully, "you'll only make things worse for yourself."

Wincing as antiseptic was applied to his cuts, Tony shrugged. "I can never seem to take the easy road," he replied.

"I see," Benoit said thoughtfully, as he opened a bottle of fine brandy and poured two snifters, offering one to Tony.

"I thought you liked cognac," Tony said, accepting the snifter with a gracious nod.

"I like many things," Benoit replied. "Fine wine, fast cars, beautiful women. My people have done some research on you, Tony. I believe you and I share an enjoyment of life's little pleasures."

"If your people are good," Tony replied, "you'll know that I no longer have access to many of those 'little pleasures.'"

"Yes, I know," Benoit acknowledged. "Your father was disappointed in your choice of careers and cut you off." He shook his head in disapproval. "One should always support the younger generation in their pursuits in life. It is part of a parent's responsibility – to provide support and understanding, as well as guidance."

"You support your children unconditionally?" Tony asked, sipping the brandy appreciatively.

"In most ways, yes," Benoit replied. "My children and grandchildren are my legacy. All children are to be cherished and nurtured, they are the future."

Tony shook his head slightly and chuckled.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"I'm just surprised," Tony replied.

"Surprised?" Benoit responded. "In what way?"

"You're an arms dealer," Tony said. "You deal in death and destruction. You sell weapons to anyone who has the money. And yet, sitting here, sharing a drink, talking about children and the future, you seem almost," he paused, searching for a word that wouldn't insult his host.

"Normal?" Benoit supplied, helpfully.

"Like a loving father and grandfather, not a ruthless arms dealer," Tony corrected.

"The two are not mutually exclusive, Tony," Benoit said, chuckling. "And really, I think 'ruthless' is a rather harsh description. I am a businessman whose business happens to be weapons. Think of me as an independent dealer, a go-between, if you will, between the weapons manufacturers and their customers."

"Customers who are often terrorists and mercenaries," Tony added.

Benoit laughed. "Ah, to be young and idealistic again. The world is not so black and white, Tony," he said. "There are many shades of gray, many layers hidden beneath the surface you see."

"I know," Tony conceded. "There have been times when I felt that the bad guy we were after wasn't really all that bad. I guess I can't see the 'good' in dealing illegal weapons."

"Fair enough," Benoit replied. "I won't try to lure you to the dark side." He paused, "You're looking pale, have you had anything to eat today?"

"Pale?" laughed Tony. "I'm surprised you can see anything other than black and blue."

"True," Benoit stood. "Come, we'll sit by the pool and have brunch." He held his hand out to Tony, helping the younger man rise stiffly from his chair.

Benoit shook his head as Tony swayed slightly. "I must have a little talk with Jeanne," he said. "She has some tendencies that alarm me."

Tony looked at him in surprise. "That's a scary thought."

Benoit threw his head back and laughed. "I like you, Tony," he said, putting an arm around Tony's shoulder, leading him out to the patio. "Let us enjoy Adele's excellent cuisine."