A/N: I had a lot of questions about Tony's role in this story and in Nuka's life, so I figured I'd throw a little bit of Tony into this chapter. Hope everyone likes it.

Nuka woke up to the sun shining into his bedroom. He stretched his arms out over his head and looked around the room. His room, not someone's guest room or a mattress under Daddy's bed but a room all for Nuka. He hugged the thought to himself.

He could hear Gibbs moving around downstairs. Nuka thought that it was probably very early in the morning still. They'd gone to bed early last night—earlier than Nuka had ever gone to bed when he lived with Daddy—and for the first time in a long time Nuka had slept through the night. He felt good, really good.

He got up and made his bed, and then he fished through his drawers for some clean clothes. He found himself a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that was mostly not stained, and he carried them with him down the hall to the bathroom. It didn't take him long to wash up and get ready—Daddy had always given him a limited amount of time when he was a kid, and Nuka was used to getting ready in a hurry. When he was done, Nuka stowed his pajamas and went to the top of the stairs.

He wondered if the rule about not putting weight on his leg still applied. Honestly, Nuka thought that it was a bit silly—he'd had way worse injuries than that in his lifetime and nobody had made a fuss over it. His leg barely even hurt any more. Still, Nuka felt like he'd been pretty lucky staying out of trouble with Gibbs the night before, and he wasn't about to take his chances on their first full day together, especially when he'd already perfected a way of going down the stairs on his own. Sighing, Nuka sat down and slid down the stairs the way he had the night before.

He wandered into the kitchen. Gibbs was there, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper. Nuka bit his lip and hovered in the doorway, not knowing what he should do. Daddy always got upset if Nuka interrupted when he was reading the paper. Normally, Nuka wouldn't have needed to—he was okay with making his own breakfast—but he didn't know where any of Gibbs's things were. He hesitated a moment more and then stepped fully into the kitchen. He wandered over to one side and hopped up on the counter to check the cupboard above it.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs asked from behind his paper.

Nuka's stomach felt like it was twisting all over the place. "Looking for a bowl. For cereal."

"We don't have any cereal," Gibbs said.

Nuka frowned, his hand still on the cupboard. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to have now. Sometimes at home, Nuka cooked breakfast on the stove, but he only ever did that when Daddy told him to. Otherwise, he might accidentally use up ingredients that Daddy needed.

"Hop down," Gibbs said, folding his paper and setting it aside. "I'm going to make us breakfast. I was just waiting for you to get up so that I could ask if you preferred eggs or pancakes."

"Oh," Nuka said, sliding gently off of the counter.

"And so?"

Nuka gave Gibbs a wide berth as he went to sit at the table. "What?"

"Do you prefer eggs or pancakes?"

Nuka started to shrug—he ate anything; he'd never been allowed to be picky at home—but then he remembered the conversation he and Gibbs had the night before about Nuka communicating. He sighed and murmured, "I like eggs if they're over easy or pancakes if they have chocolate chips in them."

Gibbs thought about that a moment and then nodded. "Eggs it is." He got out a frying pan and turned on the stove. Nuka watched carefully in case he had to cook next time.

"So," Gibbs said, cracking an egg into the frying pan. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"I don't care," Nuka whispered. It had been hard enough choosing between eggs and pancakes; how was he supposed to choose when he didn't even know what the options were?

"Well, your uncle doesn't tend to be too picky, either, as long as someone else is cooking," Gibbs said. "But he's not a big fan of casseroles. He likes meat. So, let's see. We had steak last night. Do you want chicken tonight or pork?"

"Chicken," Nuka whispered. "My uncle… Do you mean Uncle Tony?"

"Yes," Gibbs said. "Why, is he hiding any other siblings that I don't know about?"

Nuka shrugged. He bit his lower lip and whispered, "Am I going back to Uncle Tony's?"

Gibbs turned and eyed Nuka for a moment. He sighed and shook his head, "No, Nuka. You're staying with me. We talked about that yesterday. Your uncle is coming over tonight to have dinner with us."

"Oh." Nuka watched as Gibbs slid eggs onto a plate and set them on the table. At a look from Gibbs, Nuka started to eat. He didn't know what to think about Uncle Tony coming to dinner that night. He knew that Uncle Tony wasn't Daddy—the social worker had said that, and Uncle Tony had said that, and Uncle Tony had never hurt Nuka. But that didn't mean that Nuka liked the man. He looked a lot like Daddy, which made Nuka itchy, and besides, he gave Nuka away. So why did Nuka have to keep seeing him? He watched Gibbs through his lashes: Gibbs had made himself a plate of eggs and was sitting across from Nuka, eating contentedly. Nuka chewed his lower lip for a moment and then dared whisper, "I like it when you and I eat together, just the two of us."

Gibbs looked at Nuka full-on then. His eyes were soft, almost as if he felt bad, but what he said was, "You and I are going to have lots of meals just the two of us, Nuka. But your Uncle Tony is part of our family, and sometimes it's good for our whole family to eat together. It keeps us close. Now hurry up and eat your breakfast, and then we can go downstairs and start working on making that toy box."

"Yes, sir," Nuka choked out. Gibbs's lips pursed together, but he didn't say anything.

"There's silverware in that drawer," Gibbs said, pointing with the butt of his spatula. "And napkins are in the panty. Can you set the table, please?"

Nuka nodded. Gibbs had already set plates, cups, and placemats in a pile on the counter. Nuka carefully went about setting the table for three. He still didn't understand why Uncle Tony had to be here. Gibbs said Uncle Tony was part of their family, but that didn't make sense to Nuka. Gibbs was Uncle Tony's boss—they weren't related. And yeah, he was Nuka's uncle, but Nuka didn't care about that, so why should Gibbs?

He had just finished setting the table when he heard Uncle Tony's car pull into the driveway. Nuka tensed, his eyes darting towards the door. He heard Uncle Tony's footsteps on the stairs, and every muscle in his body pulled tight. He could barely breathe. The door opened, and Uncle Tony came in looking just like Daddy. Gibbs turned and smiled and the two men hugged, and it was all Nuka could do not to sick up on the spot.

And then the men turned towards Nuka. Nuka could feel both of their eyes on him: Tony's assessing and Gibbs's expectant.

"Come say hello to you uncle," Gibbs said gently.

Nuka couldn't open his mouth, much less say anything. He stared ahead, blankly, his heart drumming in his chest.

"Nuka," Gibbs said a bit more firmly.

"Boss, it's okay," Uncle Tony said.

Nuka saw Gibbs's eyes flash angrily. He could barely breathe. Gibbs shot Uncle Tony a look, and then turned back to Nuka. "Nuka, say hello to your uncle."

But Nuka couldn't hear. He saw Gibbs take a step towards him, and he panicked. A strangled, "No!" ripped from his throat and he turned and ran away from both of them, up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him and sat against it, his breathing heavy.

"Wow," Tony breathed back in the kitchen. "Good to know I'm not the only one who makes him react like that." When Gibbs didn't reply, Tony said, "Are you mad?"

"Yes," Gibbs ground out. "I'm mad."

"Well, don't be too hard on him," Tony said. "I mean, he's just a kid, and he was clearly scared to death."

"I'm not bad at him," Gibbs snarled. "I'm mad at you."

"Me? What did I—"

"If you ever undermine my authority like that in front of him again, you will wind up spending a month sorting cold cases, do you understand?" Gibbs spat.

"I wasn't trying to undermine your authority," Tony said. "Honest, Boss. I just didn't think there needed to be a big scene about whether or not he said hi to me. I mean, he clearly doesn't like me."

"I don't like Mondays, but unfortunately, they come around once in a while," Gibbs said. "I don't care how much he doesn't like you, he's perfectly capable of saying hello. I wasn't asking him to hug you—I wasn't even asking him to shake your hand. He is capable of being polite, and if I am to raise this boy, then he will be, and I won't have anyone butting their noses in. Not even you, Tony."

Tony was pale. He sighed and nodded once. "Yes, Boss. I understand."

"Good," Gibbs said. "Now watch the chicken while I go up and speak to him."