Tony felt the creek in the stairs of Gibbs basement. There was a familiarity in all of this. How many times had he walked down these stairs with a heavy heart. How many times had the job threatened to break him.

"Been expectin' you," Gibbs said, looking up from his work bench. Sawdust caught in his hair, and pencil tucked behind his ear. He looked so Gibbs' like, exactly how Tony would describe him to an uninitiated stranger.

Tony nodded. Not surprised. Gibbs always knew everything.

"Guess this conversation has been brewing for a while," Tony said, as he continued to walked toward the bottom on the stairs. "There's been lots of moving parts."

One foot in front of the other. No backing out now, he thought.

"Been waitin' for you," Gibbs drawled, offering a beer can in Tony's direction.

This had been a long time coming.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he took the beer, and opened it. Not taking a sip just yet.

"Don't really see you down here anymore," Gibbs replied.

"I have someone else to talk to now," Tony said softly.

He smiled at the thought of Ziva. Ziva who he could talk to about almost everything. How he hoped to talk to her forever.

"It's good when that happens," came Gibbs' reply. His voice fading out, as memories overcame him.

"Besides, it's different now," Tony said softly.

"Different," Gibbs echoed.

"Yeah," Tony said. "Things have been different for a while."

Since they had come back from Israel. Since Ziva left. Since things got better with his Dad.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly, when things had changed between him and Gibbs, but it there was no doubt that things had changed.

"'Spose they have," Gibbs said. His voice gruff but heavy.

They simply didn't talk anymore. Not like they used too.

"Besides, you've always been Ziva's more than mine," Tony whispered. "Especially now, she's kinda lacking in the relative department. She needs your more."

So was Gibbs with his recent upgrade to fully-fledged orphan. He needed her. They just got each other.

"I'm here for both of ya," Gibbs replied. "Equally."

But differently.

"I'm not really here about that," Tony murmured.

"Yeah," Gibbs said, filling the silence.

"I meant to talk about the Fletc thing earlier," Tony said, as he took a long sip of beer. "We just had a lot going on these past couple of weeks."

The sadness of the past couple of weeks, seeped into his tone. He could still remember that awful car journey home from the hospital, Ziva sniffing and her eyes red raw. Him gripping the steering wheel, and the silence that sat between them.

"How's Ziver?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded. Used to this question. He had been back at work for nearly a week, and had told everyone important about what had happened. He could still feel Abby's warm hug, that held on for too long. Even Vance, having heard through the grapevine, had expressed condolences in the elevator. Jimmy too had wrapped him a bear hug. Jimmy had offered him so many nice words, and said that he would understand if Tony and Ziva skipped Jimmy and Breena's baby shower, which was not for a couple of months.

"She's getting there," Tony said softly.

Most of the physical symptoms were gone or at least manageable. Of course, they both knew, that even though the physical bleeding was over. The emotional pain wore on. The emotional pain was stubborn, clinging on, until it destroyed you.

"How you doing?" Gibbs asked, taking another swill of beer.

The honest answer depended on the time of day. It could be good, bad, or downright ugly.

"Getting there," Tony replied.

How many had times had he had this conversation over the last four days. How's Ziva doing? one of their friends would ask, as they digested the news. Getting there. Then quiet from their friend. How are you doing? more quiet this time from him. I'm getting there.

"You two looking after each other?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded before answering. Reflecting for a moment.

"We've always had each other's backs," Tony replied.

He had held her when she cried, waiting until the sun had set and the room was dark, before letting the tears fall. She had let him talk, even when he stopped making sense. They both promised they weren't blaming the other person, mostly because each was too busy blaming themself.

"I know," Gibbs said.

"I didn't come here to talk about that," Tony said softly. "Its good to talk about it, though."

He came here to talk about the impending second interview for the Flet-c position. It was one week away. He was trying to keep his nerves under control. Ziva was helping him, by running through possible interview questions.

"Already wrote your recommendation," Gibbs declared, "It was a good one too."

The recommendation letter request had come while Tony was on personal leave. Tony had always suspected Gibbs had known Tony was looking outside but they had never managed to talk about it. Gibbs had sent Tony an email, which surprised Tony for Gibbs use of technology, saying the recommendation was written. That one line, despite having a positive message, had stung, as he read it. The email felt so impersonal.

"Thank you," Tony said.

Thank you was too small a sentiment. He wanted to say more. How could he express his gratitude. They'd shared so much over these past years.

"You're one of the best I got," came Gibbs reply before Tony could say anything else.

"I should've told you earlier," Tony admitted. "I wanted too. Just didn't really know how to explain it."

Gibbs nodded, but only slightly.

"You've been thinking about this for a while," Gibbs said in that typical Gibbs' inflection. Not quite a question. Not quite a statement.

"Yeah," Tony replied, letting out a heavy breath.

"Always thought you and Ziva would do it together," Gibbs muttered.

Tony scoffed.

"We'd have messed that up," he replied. "She'd probably have killed me in my sleep."

He and Ziva had talked about it once. Talking about how the pressure of them both leaving NCIS together would have destroyed their relationship. Both of them needed to go on the journey together. Otherwise it would have ended in tears.

"That's how it works in your movies," Gibbs muttered.

Hero and heroine running off into the sunset for a happy ever after, sounded like just the ticket. Tony knew however, that real life was never so easy.

"This isn't one of my movies," Tony replied. Sometimes he wished life was a movie, but sometimes in the little moments, like when he had his arms around Ziva as they woke up, he was glad it wasn't. Movies never had such small and tender moments.

"I get it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly.

Gibbs had had a family once, too. A wife and daughter. Red hair clogged his drains. Princess tea parties filled his afternoons, but that was all gone now.

"You do?" Tony asked.

"Ziver asked me that same question," Gibbs declared. "Remember, that time I went to Mexico."

Tony knew this. He and Ziva shared so much. They had spent so many long nights talking about this move, and the future. They wanted to grab it with hands and hearts open.

"Yeah," Tony said softly, "But, my leaving isn't like her leaving."

She had to get out of the fire, before she got burnt. It was not just the job, it was the weight of everything that had come before. Everyone who had been lost.

"It ain't?" came Gibbs' question.

Gibbs could always see right through his crap.

"I thought the job was what I always wanted," Tony started, letting out a sigh. "To be like James Bond, have it all be about fast cars and fast women."

Gibbs scoffed. That was never the reality of the job.

"I thought that the job would be all the mattered," Tony continued. "I made sacrifices for the job, but the job doesn't give back does it?"

Gibbs nodded.

"That's why you have a life outside of it," Gibbs said.

It was Tony's turn to scoff. What life did his boss have, beyond the job? His boat. His bourbon. His boats. The loss of what mattered most, had led him to job, and he was content to stand under the weight of it. To let it collapse on him.

"Never could do that," Tony said with a sigh. "Never could fill the two cups equally."

Gibbs nodded, remembering the conversation from a few Christmases ago. Tony years deep into his mid-life crazy.

"It's hard to find balance," Gibbs uttered, honestly. Not that he'd ever tried.

"Ziva never asked me to do this," Tony started. "I know people are gonna think that. They're gonna think that because she left, that she made me leave, but it's not."

"I know," Gibbs replied.

"She always said she would support me," Tony whispered. "She understands the job and the sacrifices, better than most."

History repeated itself. Ziva had moved from her father's role, to her mothers. They wanted to rewrite the story.

"I know," Gibbs repeated.

"But I don't want that," Tony said. "When I was on the Seahawk, there was this guy who would record himself reading stories to his kid, used to get some of his bunk mates to help out with the voices. I even helped a couple of times. I knew what he was trying to do, trying to be in two places at once, but he really wanted to be reading those stories to his kid."

"You gotta do what you gotta do," Gibbs said heartbreak slipping into his voice. He knew the pain of being so far away. Of missing so much.

"I know," Tony continued. "I wish I could be one of those people who juggle all the balls and make it work, like McFutureDirector and Delilah will be, if the stork comes calling for them."

Gibbs took a long sip of beer, finishing the can. Letting DiNozzo speak.

"I've been thinking about all of this for a while, maybe even before Ziva and I got together. Long before the miscarriage," Tony continued. His voice cracking as he said miscarriage. Those wounds were still so fresh "I want to be there like my Dad never was, and do all the boring stuff. I wanna come home at the same time every day and ask Ziva about her day, and hopefully down the line we can fight about whose turn it is to do bathtime. I want all of the day-to-day stuff, that I always wanted as a kid."

Gibbs nodded. Tony painted a nice picture, even if his vision of domestic bliss was to try and counter his childhood.

"Ziva's got a whole 'nother career in the pipeline," Tony continued, smiling as he spoke of Ziva. "There's no way she'd be able to go as far as she wants with, if I stayed an Agent. I don't want to stand in her way. I want to put her first. I don't think anyone's ever put her first."

Gibbs swallowed thickly. Knowing Tony was speaking the truth.

"Think the same goes for you," Gibbs muttered.

Tony felt his heart seize. How transparent he was.

"I've spent the last twenty-five years filing one cup," Tony said softly. "The other one's nearly empty, don't want it to run out."

Gibbs nodded.

"Fletc will be lucky to have you," Gibbs said. "You're one of my smartest."

Tony scoffed. He was never the brains of the operation.

"Haven't got it yet," Tony said.

He'd been told, that the second interview was basically a tick-box. Vance was already talking about filling his seat. Tony had started discretely chucking things out, from his desk drawers. He'd found Ziva's Hebrew copy of GSM tucked into his own collection and had brought it home to show her. It now lived under the bed, behind her seldom-worn heels and that extra yoga mat they'd discovered when he officially moved in.

"You'll get it," Gibbs replied.

"I was the wild card," Tony uttered. "Even the wild-card, will run out lucky strikes eventually."

"I mean it DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "You were a good agent."

"Best hang up the spurs, while I'm still a good agent," Tony muttered.

Gibbs only coughed in response.

"I can't imagine me and you running down perps with matching grey hair." Tony continued. "I'm getting to old for this gig. Outrunning a perp might give me a heart attack."

"What you tryna say?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm not a lifer like you," Tony replied, flashing his trademark grin. "You'll outlive us all, boss. You're immortal."

"You hung around for a while," Gibbs muttered, holding up his empty beer can. "Done some good."

Lots of good.

"You aren't pissed I'm leaving to go play househusband in the suburbs," Tony declared, looking out into the distance. "You don't teach those rules for nothing."

Except maybe Rule 12, Tony thought darkly, but decided not to verbalise.

"You ain't gonna be sitting on your butt," Gibbs replied. "And those rules aren't jus' for the job, they're for life. You can teach them to the new agents coming through."

Tony smiled at the thought of bright eyed Probies, with their questions. He buzzed at the thought of telling stories of crazy cases, and watching his new agents grow. He hadn't been this excited about work for a while.

"Ziva said, you told her the same thing," Tony murmured.

"I did," Gibbs replied. "You're a good agent, and good man, Tony."

He felt his throat close, and took a stabilizing breath. So many people tried to tell him that, but he was so afraid to believe them.

"I try to be," Tony whispered.

All he could do was try. One foot in front of the other.

"Gonna miss working with you boss," Tony declared. "I mean that."

They had over a decade of memories. Cases solved, and bad guys thrown in jail. Agents lost, and conspiracies far beyond their pay grades. Good times and bad. Mostly good though, and Tony would always remember the good.

"Yeah," Gibbs said softly. "Me too."

"We've had a good run," Tony declared. "We've probably got a couple more good ones in us, before the New Year."

Gibbs rested his empty beer can on the bench, and opened his arms. Tony stepped into the hug. Warm arms around him. A slap on the back, because that's how real men hug. Regardless, Tony could feel the love. So much love.

A feeling of peace washed over him. Excitement bubbled in his gut. The future looked bright.

A/N: I don't own a thing.

Part of my delay in this, is trying to write this scene. Back when I planned this fic (back in November, yikes!) this was supposed to be a super important chapter, but with all the other storylines that have sprung from this, it feels less important in the scheme of things.

Next chapter will revisit the miscarriage. Chapter after that will feature Senior.

Thanks to all the readers, and the reviews.