Survival Italian for this Chapter:

Capo: Boss

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Ottimo: Excellent

Inglesi: English

Va bene: Alright

Nonno: Grandfather

Buonanotte: Good night.

Thanks to all for reviewing! For those of you have some more of the intimate details surrounding Long Island culture I hope I live up to expectations!

Special thanks to Trekde for providing insight on the Italian.

(Gibbs)

The wake went well except for the minor upset with Peter DiNozzo being a no show. I want to be happy for Tony, I really do, but I just can't imagine this ending well.

It has however been interesting to see Tony with his guard down a bit. He always tries too hard to please me that he looses a bit of himself in the process. Seeing him laughing with his cousins and talking with his grandfather gave me the opportunity to get a different glimpse into his soul. I can't tell if he realizes it but his accent has completely remerged along with other Italian mannerisms that I had assumed were buried; wild hand gesticulations, him making hands into flattened "o's", and then kissing them is another side that I never truly seen. Plus the laughing. I haven't heard DiNozzo laugh that loudly, that heartily in a very long time. It was genuine.

I have a greater glimpse into who he is, and who he must have been as a teenager. I have no doubt that he was difficult. Growing up with that much money and no parent to govern him, he must have been impossible. Hell he's impossible now, I can only imagine what kind of havoc he must have wrecked as a teenager.

I've never considered strongly the ethnicity of the people I work with. It doesn't matter as long as they can get the job done. However, seeing him interact with his very loud family I now better understand where it is he is coming from and why he reacts so strongly to things that he does. And I also understand why he is an incredible undercover agent. He's charming and confident, and he can pull off almost everything because of it.

That's why he's valuable. You can't teach cockiness to new recruits, it's something you are born with. You can't give someone a pair of balls. You can't teach heart to people. You have it, or you don't.

And its heart that is condemning him like it has done in the past. His spirit is too strong to be willed by others, that's why he left his home and culture and to an extent, his identity behind him to follow his dreams. He defied his father, his family and all of whatever the hell this is to do what he wanted, to do what he believed to be right. And it will be his heart that will condemn him if helps his family if they approach him.

I know right now after watching him hug and cry with his family that he will be loyal to them, and that he will back them and defend them. And honestly, that I cannot fault him for, nor do I expect him to turn his back on them. But that, that is why the FBI are so strongly interested in him.

And not that I wanted his family to kick him out on his ass, or that I wanted him to completely forget Italian, but unfortunately for him this makes a greater risk and potential target to the FBI. He fits in too damn well. Of course it's not really fitting in, this is who he really is.

And so now? Now I'm planting microphones on him so I'll be with him all night just in case. I'm not letting him get into trouble because of his loyalty to his family. I should have seen this coming, it just took one phone call from them to get him back on the Island.

He so damn desperate to be included again that his judgment is impaired. I know DiNozzo and I know that deep down he's like me and believes that if he's doing the right thing, than to hell with the rules. Or maybe he happened to pick that up from me.

I've never tagged one of my team mates, I've certainly never deceived one as great as I'm about to, but it's for his own good, and that's the only justification I need. Tony will understand and excuse my planting a recording device on his phone. It has a great reception and I figure that the phone will always be on his person.

He has been in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes now. What the hell could he possibly be doing? After sharing hotel rooms before with him I soon became familiar with the extraordinary amount of time he requires to present himself for the day, but this is ridiculous.

Ten dollars says he's doing his hair. It's always the damn hair.

And speaking of hair? I will kill him. He walks out of the hotel bathroom dressed well, and considering the circumstances I'm biting my tongue, but if we were in Washington I would slap him and tell him that he should know better than to dress like a thug.

Because honestly? That's what he looks like. And more honestly? That's what his family looks like. The younger men dressed like a bunch of punks, and the women like trash, well expensive trash. Half of the women are wearing horrifically inappropriate clothing, with fake nails, burnt dyed hair, and the entire Macy's make up center. And truth to be told, they look scary. I know that I have Marine training but look at some of these women might actually be able to put up some semblance of a respectful fight. The other half however are striking. They remind me of DiNozzo. The cheeky grin, glittering eyes, and wit in each of them is analogous to DiNozzo's. I am dying to see which ones are closest to Tony's lineage. Two of the woman are sitting are sharply dressed in black dresses and have their hair tousled a bit. This half of the women seemed to have retained their natural dark hair color instead of the fake blonde preference.

But the other half? Just looking at them I want to walk up to them and show them how ladies should dress. And if I see one more coach bag so help me God. If my daughter Kelly ever dressed like one of those girls I would have died.

Well, except Mary. Mary was dressed quite conservatively, and was quite quiet. My heart went out to her. No one deserves to be raped, and that Broome girl had no right to torment her afterwards. And really, after looking at her, I would bet that she probably didn't even know originally what her brothers had planned and now she was just caught up in it all

"You're not going to say anything", he asks me mischievously.

The bastard knows that his attire isn't acceptable to my standards.

"DiNozzo", I say, "Pull your pants up." His damn boxers are showing, and today's color apparently is blood red, and it appears to be silk. Wonderful, because I need to know these things.

"Can't capo", he tells me, "Mi dispiace, but I have to."

"You have to?"

Damn kid seems so happy too. He's killing me because I can't imagine this ending without heartbreak.

"Yup capo", he tells me, "But I have to. Part of the code."

I reexamine him. Perhaps I'm being too closed minded.

Baggy pants, check. Two huge diamond studded earings, check. Large chain necklace, check. Black wife beater, check. Sneakers with electric green lacing, of course. And then my personal favorite, his hair gelled back. I thought I had broken him of that habit damn it.

When DiNozzo first started for working for me he stumbled about the first month in culture shock. I finally took pity on him when I learned that he went home early one day because he had overheard some vicious gossip from other fellow agents. When I confronted him about his actions he told me that I would have his resignation on my desk the next day.

I had heard the rumors and I suspected that he had as well, he was observant, and I expected nothing less, but I hadn't realized how petty and cruel they had become, or how hard he taken them to heart.

Tony I learned that day is quite sensitive.

I took the rest of the day off and sat down with him and had a real heart to heart. He admitted that he had overreacted and that he was overwhelmed being in a new place without any friends, which for him, was a new development.

He then proceeded to tell me about his father, his family, and his frustrations at being so out of place, all the time. He had never worked in a federal agency before, and the office culture was different from that of a bullpen. Plus, he was a Yankee, and an Italian one at that. He couldn't figure out why he was such a target, because he was a good guy.

I was brutally honest with him. Everyone wants to work with me because its an automatic career booster; my team has always been assigned the toughest and most complicated cases. I told him that no one understood why I had picked him because he seemed like a buffoon. I showed him how to style his hair, and advised him to wear his very Catholic saint medals under his shirt instead. I told him that most of these people didn't come from money like he did, and although he didn't flaunt he made no attempts to hide it. I then I hit him and told him I expected him to not rise to the bait of petty gossip and that everything else would fall into place. I also then expected him to make up the work he had missed.

And now, all that hard work has been thrown out the window. He does not stand before me as a professional. He looks like a guido playboy. No, absolutely not.

"Where did you even get all this", I settle for asking.

"Carmine hooked me up."

"Yeah I'm sure", I say before I can stop myself.

He looks a tad hurt, "He's not so bad."

"You look like someone I would arrest", I say.

Apparently that's a good thing because he's smiling again.

"Ottimo!" He exclaims happily, "I didn't want to scream cop."

"Trust me", I say barely tolerating the Italian, "You don't scream cop."

Which is why he is always my number one for undercover work, the kid is a chameleon.

He pumps his fist, grabs his hotel key and phone and checks out.

I grab his face with one hand and bring it right to mine.

"You are a federal agent", I tell him dangerously, "You understand? You are a representative of this team's success, and the agency's."

He laughs in my face.

"Just want to get a few drinks in me, and capo, go dancing!"

His eyes are sparkling and I realize this is a lost cause. I can give him a night I suppose. I let his face go.

"Behave yourself."

Before I know I have DiNozzo hugging the life out of me. He in like holds my face, only with both hands and gently, and then kisses me on the forehead.

I will kill him.

"Don't wait up capo", he tells me happily.

"DiNozzo", I say, "I speak English. Got it?"

"Inglesi, si si capo", he says laughing and then dashes out before I can smack him.

I sigh, I hope to God that for both our sakes whatever he does won't embarrass him, or me because I'm going to be the one hearing it.

Three hours into my surveillance, I almost about give up. He is beyond drunk, and has been dancing all night, and there has been nothing of relation to the current case at hand. Maybe the FBI is wrong because there has been no mention of anything other than chugging and grinding. There has also been a lot of eating and DiNozzo telling everyone how horrific the Italian food is in Washington. Apparently the prince only can New York food, and is now trying to make up for the amount of years he did not eat in his beloved state. If I could, I would slap him.

Maybe I just will when he gets in. I don't need to give him a reason, I'm the boss, excuse me, capo.

And also? If I ever hear the words "Italian Stallion" again in my life I will kill someone. And that someone? That someone would be DiNozzo.

I chuckle despite myself and realize that I do truly love him. He is like the son I never had. He is the closest thing I have to a personal life which is why this is hitting me that much harder. This is going to blow up, I give it a week.

The DiNozzo show, as entertaining as it has been seems to move to the bedroom, or what I later discern to be a bathroom. Keep it classy Tony.

I call it quits for the next hour as he goes through what seems to be multiple women at the same time. I also hear a male voice somewhere in the picture, but I let that go. I let all of it go and realize how beyond intrusive this is.

A bit later I hear DiNozzo despite his drunken state questioning the presence of some questionable people at the party. As the conversation continues I realize he's talking about the undercover agents in place. I immediately go to my phone to call him to come back to the hotel, but his cousins brush off his concerns and attempt to silence him with more alcohol. DiNozzo protests and tells Carmine to hide his shit and stop being so obvious. He sounds disappointed that his cousin is dealing, but I have greater concerns. As much as I knew that his response would be to protect his cousin, somewhere deep down I really wanted him to pull out handcuffs and arrest him. I know how the cards are going to fall when this all goes to hell, and I have an itch that I won't be able to stop it.

It's around three when DiNozzo finally asks to be driven home. My ears perk up at the first sign of a confrontation.

"Stay with me man", says a smoker's voice who I identify as Dom.

"No", says DiNozzo a bit drunkenly, "Gibbs man, I have to, you know, go back."

"Tony give me a fucking break."

"What", Tony asks.

"It's just this whole thing with your boss, man he shouldn't even be here, this is family."

"Well he's my family", Tony replies honestly, "He's like my dad. I love him man. I love you too you know." If there was any doubt he was drunk before, I now have extreme confirmation.

"He's a fucking WASP", Dom cries, "He's your fucking boss, how you going to say that he's family?'

Tony misses a beat but then quickly responds.

"Why does this bother you so much?"

"Because", Dom cries, "I never see you and now you want to go spend the little time we have with your boss. It's ridiculous, and now you going to say he's like your father? You have a father Tony, you going to forget all he's done for you?"

I hear the two car doors shut and realize that Dom is driving, or he better be for Tony's sake. I will not tolerate druken driving.

"I didn't forget", Tony says quietly, "But man, I also didn't forget some of the shit he put me through you know?"

"Oh cry me a fucking river. My heart bleeds for you."

"He used to beat me Dom", Tony says deadpan. "Like with a lot of shit."

"They all used to beat us", Dom cries back, "That's just how it was. You don't turn your back."

"I didn't", Tony replies earnestly, "But it was different. You had Connie, Monica, and your mom, and your grandma all living in the house. You had people, I didn't. I didn't have anyone to go to; it was just me and him. And Dom, it wasn't my fault. You know he blamed me for my mom's death."

"Let me get out my violin."

"Dom", Tony tries again, and I can hear the desperation in his voice, "I was infected with the fucking plague, I was on my deathbed, and no one even called. My boss was the one with me the entire time, not my father, not my family, not you."

"Yeah", Dom screams and I hear beeping in the background, "You son of a bitch, you were dying and you know how we had to find out, by the fucking television you asswipe. You should have called!"

"I should have called", Tony cries incredulously, "I was too busy dying!"

"Oh shove it" Dom screams back, "Your precious boss think to call us? What do they not honor the whole next of kin thing down in the south?"

His speech is full of hate and hurt, and as much as I dislike Dominic Leone, because I find him to be truly repulsive, I have to give him credit for at least broaching some of these issues with DiNozzo.

"Gibbs is my next of kin."

There is silence and I hear what I presume to be Dom shoving Tony into the window. It's vague in my memory but I'm pretty sure that Dominic Leone used to be Tony's next of kin.

"I hate him", Dom finally says.

"That's okay", Tony says, "You don't have to like him, and I don't have to like to pretend that there is not something going on."

Well shit.

"What are you talking about", Dom says.

"Something is up", Tony replies casually, "Something. I don't know what it is, but I know it's something."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Va bene" I hear Tony sigh. "You have my number."

"You leaving tomorrow?"

"I think I was supposed to, but nonno wants to talk to me. I think it's about my dad. He's sick isn't he?"

Well this isn't what I was expecting. Apparently Dominic also wasn't expecting this because he's silent on the other end.

"Babe", he says affectionately, "You got to talk to the man, not my place you know?"

"S'alright", Tony slurs, "I know. But can you tell me what the hell Carmine has gotten into?"

There is silence.

"Why you think there's a problem with Carmine?"

"There were cops at that party Dom", Tony says, "And they took a keen interest on him."

"Tony", Dom says, "You're drunk. You seeing things man."

"Dom", Tony starts, "Whatever, just forget it. He's got to watch his ass."

Dom in return turns on some music instead. I recognize the song as Frank Sinatra's "My Way". How appropriate. The two listen for a while longer in silence until the last "my way" where they both sing it and hold the note out laughing. I hear the car coming to a stop and the radio is turned off.

"Just stay a bit longer" I hear Dominic saying, "I miss you man."

"You could always visit me you know. I really love dancing man."

I guess that never occurred to Dominic Leone because he seems to jump on the idea.

"I'm welcome?"

"Duh", I hear Tony say, "Dude, you're family."

I hear someone rummaging around, banging, and then DiNozzo saying "yes please". I realize the two are smoking. Great. DiNozzo is going to smell wonderfully upon his return.

My phone goes off, and read the text message.

Fornell:

De Luca's personal computer has video of Meagan tied up and crying hysterically.

I need a drink, badly.

I hear another phone go off and start searching until I realize that it's either Dom's or Tony's.

"Yeah man" I hear Dom talking, "Yeah he's still here. Why you ask?"

A pause.

"No fuck that man, we're going to bed. Talk to him tomorrow. You'll see him at the funeral. Talk then."

A longer pause.

"How fucking important could it possibly be?"

A quick pause.

"So, the hell you need Tony for?"

"I'll talk to him", I hear Tony saying.

"You don't even know who the fuck it is", Dom responds back agitated.

"Who is it", Tony asks.

"Fucking Jamie, he's freaking out about something with Carmine."

"He wants me", and I can't help but wince at the too eager question.

"Hey", I hear Dom yelling, "You, you shut up. You see me talking on the phone, this does not involve you."

"But he wants me", Tony whines.

"Here take your medicine", Dom responds and I hear drinking.

"Dom, Dom, Dom, Dom"

"Shut the fuck up", I hear Dom scream, "What is wrong with you? Look Jamie, I have to go, go to bed and sleep it off, you are fine, Carmine is fine, everything is just peachy."

I hear a phone shut, and what I presume to be Tony getting punched again.

"Hey", DiNozzo says, "Where are my pants?"

"Now why would I know that", Dom asks.

"I don't know, it's just something that I feel you should have let me know before we got this far."

"We are not going back."

"I have no pants!"

"I'm sorry you said you get a gun at your job right?"

"Shut up, I'm very competent."

"Get out."

"There is snow on the ground!"

"Tony", I hear him breathing deeply, "Get out."

"I need pants!"

"No, no you don't. It's like five feet from the car."

"I represent success! Success needs pants!"

Well at least I know he listens to me.

"No seriously, what is wrong with you?"

"Pantless!"

"I swear I'm going to kill you, with my bare fucking hands. I'm going to kill you."

"Pants!"

"Fine!"

I hear more rummaging.

"Here, wear these."

"Those are not mine."

Ooh, that sounded like three punches.

The phone rings again.

"Jamie what" Dom bellows.

Another pause.

"He's where?"

Silence.

"What the fuck for?"

Another pause.

"Ah he's a fucking jack ass."

I hear DiNozzo screaming, "Hi Jamie!"

"Look Jamie, you know the drill, hell he knows the drill too, tell him to lawyer up, tell him to say nothing."

Shit, what the hell?

"They're releasing him, well that's good no? They must not have any shit, or it's all, fuck what's the word, circum something."

"Circumcised", Tony offers.

"Yeah circumcised", Dom replies, "Wait no, fuck no, you friggin idiot, circumstantial."

"Look Jamie, Jamie, calm down, just listen to me, they don't have nothing. If it was serious they wouldn't let him go."

A quick pause.

"Yeah maybe Tony can do something, but not right now man, he's wasted. I'll come over in a bit okay, I'm dropping the retard off now."

I go to grab my phone to call Fornell, but as I open to call him I get a text message.

Fornell:

Arrested Carmine on drug charges, letting him go with a trail. BTW your boy was spotted hanging out with him at the same party.

Wonderful, fucking A.

Tomorrow is going to be a delight. I pack up my equipment, and pretend to go to bed.

I hear banging on the door and drunken laughing followed by a body collapsing.

"Gibbs", screams Tony.

Oh he better not be thinking that I am going to put up with this.

I open the door and find Tony on his ass staring up at me. He is wearing a different shirt, that is buttoned in the wrong spots, different pants that are unzipped, and there is a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Hi", he exclaims.

I bend down and help him up. He doesn't seem to realize that we are moving and just keeps on talking. I sit him down on his bed and begin to take off his shoes. It's just faster if I do it myself.

I take the cigarette out of his mouth and throw it out.

"Gibbs, Gibbs", he tells me excitedly, "I went dancing!"

Okay so apparently Tony loves dancing. Really really loves dancing. Why he never goes back at home is beyond me, but he truly loves it. The entire night he was pushing to hurrying up to get to the dance floor.

"Have fun", I ask. I already know the answer.

He throws his back on the bed.

"Oh man", he says happily, "So much fun. I love dancing Gibbs."

I haven't seen him this relaxed and at ease in such a long time, I just hope that they aren't using him, I really do.

"Well cowboy", I say, "We have to be at the church by ten, let's see how much you love it tomorrow."

"No Gibbs", he corrects me, "I love it at anytime."

I roll my eyes. This is pointless. His shoes and socks are removed and by this point he takes my lead and disrobes himself. I help him with the buttons and give him some sweats to sleep in.

"Psst Gibbs", he tells me, "Buonanotte."

"Good night Tony", I respond. And for the first time in a long time I go to bed with a smile on my face.

I turn the lights off and pray that tomorrow won't be horrific.

Tony wakes up at five, stumbles out of bed, straight to the bathroom and pukes.

I get up and meet in there after five minutes or so.

"Hey boss", he says weakly arms wrapped around the toilet.

"Still worth it", I ask him.

He looks up at me smiling, "Oh hell yeah."

Before I can say another word he pukes again.

"You should have fuckin seen this broad", he says.

"Which one", I say absentmindedly ignoring the profanity.

"What", he asks.

Thankfully I'm saved as goes another round with the toilet.

"Boss", he says his voice straining, "We went dancing."

Again with the damn dancing.

"Take a shower DiNozzo", I tell him gruffly, "I'm going back to bed."

"Sir, yes sir."

Smartass.