Short epilogue to finish this one out. Thanks to all who followed, favorited, and reviewed! Not beta'd.
Once Tony had finally settled after his talk with Gibbs, he'd polished off two helpings of the home fries, a half dozen sausage patties, four slices of toast with butter and jam, and two cups of cocoa, then amused his boss by finishing last night's left-over pizza.
"That was great, Boss, thanks,feel like a new man now." Tony crowed, wiping his mouth and gathering up the dishes off the table. "I'll help you with the dishes and -"
"And then you'll help me with some bird feeders and houses."
"Boss.."
"So help me if you tell me you think they're gonna be crap!"
"I – no, Boss, not with you teaching me, but – can we not talk about my father while we're working on them, it kind of takes the fun out of it for me."
"Yeah. Okay, I got it. You're dad's off limits."
"And summer camp."
"And summer camp." Gibbs echoed.
"And anything even remotely pertaining to my crappy childhood."
"Alright, Tony, don't need to beat a dead horse." Gibbs warned, dumping dish soap into the running water. "Lots of other things to talk about, or not talk about. Maybe we can just stick to wood working and both of us will be happy. Let's let these soak for a while and come back to them later. Grab your cocoa, let's head down to the basement."
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Tony's stomach had started to growl a few hours into their work, and Gibbs checked his watch, only to find out they'd actually been working for almost five hours straight without realizing it.
"Sorry, Boss. Growing boy, you know."
Gibbs gave him a crooked grin, thinking how glad he was he didn't have to foot the younger man's grocery bill. Given the time and opportunity, Tony could shovel in a damn lot of food, but he also knew the kid burned calories just sitting at his desk fidgeting, so it wasn't surprising he was ready to eat again after all their labors. He wiped his hands on a shop rag, and threw it to Tony so he could do the same.
"Let the first coat dry, we can throw on a second one after lunch." he told his helper, and stood back to look at their work. Before him on the shop bench sat a row of sturdy bird feeders and bluebird houses, and Tony had done a good deal of the work under his boss's supervision.
"Great job, Tony." Gibbs said quietly, as he squeezed the back of his senior field agent's neck affectionately. "Not just saying that cause of what your father said about your other ones. You've got a real good eye for this stuff, I would have liked to see what you came up with in summer camp, bet it was damn good for a kid."
Tony put his head to his chest, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment at the praise, and Gibbs was expecting a foot to start scuffing the basement floor. But it didn't, and Tony crossed his arms, eyes still averted from his boss.
"Thank, Boss." he answered, barely audible. He pictured a scene in his mind's eye, of a hopeful, happy, green eyed little boy running to his dad to show him his latest project, only in his mind, his dad was Gibbs, and the man joyfully inspected his work, understanding just how much thought and soul had gone into making the piece.
He was quiet for so long that Gibbs gave him a little shake with the hand that was on the back of his neck.
"Hey – you okay, Tony?"
Tony cleared his throat, trying to find his voice again.
"Just – just thinking about how much I missed out on, Boss. Was wishing things had been different."
"Quit wasting your time going down that road, DiNozzo, it's a dead end that drops off into a black hole. All you have is right now, and right now, you're in my basement and you just showed me what you can do when someone takes the time to give you a little direction. Just like your instructors did at the military academy, and your coaches in college. You may have had a crappy childhood, but it got better, and you've gotta be thankful for that. Some kids go from crap childhood to crap adulthood without anyone taking the time to show them they've got something good to offer. We see them every day, on the news and in the interrogation room. And as long as you're on the right side of the table, you got nothing to whine about."
"Yeah. Guess you're right, Boss; most of the time I can remember that, but sometimes things remind me of stuff, and that sort of hurt doesn't get forgotten just 'cause you get older."
"I know, Tony, nothing short of total amnesia makes the hurt go away. And I know you don't dwell on it all the time, but when you do, just remember you can come here any time and hang out, even if there's nothing to build. I may not talk much, but I listen."
"Think you just used up your talk quota for the entire month, Boss. Never heard you say so much in one go."
"I can be chatty when I need to be, DiNozzo, you're not the only one who can yammer. Come on, let's go raid the freezer and see what we can come up with for lunch. Oh, and Tony...you plan on coming here often, better bring your own chow or you might be going home hungry, I don't do much grocery shopping."
"Yup, I noticed, Boss. I'll remember for next time. And Boss – thanks for this. I was sort of – well I was starting to go under for a while there...bums me out that kids treat me like an idiot."
"I know, Tony. The more you're around them, the better you'll get with them, just a fact of life. I was scared to death of taking care of Kelly until we'd had her for a while. No instruction book with babies like you get with a board game or microwave oven. You figure it out as you go, like everything else that comes without instructions."
"You figure me out yet, Boss?" Tony asked as he followed Gibbs up the stairs to the kitchen.
"Ohh, I'm workin' on it, DiNozzo. Got the instructions you came with, only they're written upside down and backwards and in hieroglyphs. But no one has ever accused me of giving up when the going got rough, so I imagine I'll eventually have some sort of grasp of what makes you tick."
"I think you've got more than just a grasp already, Boss." Tony admitted shyly. "Just want to tell you I appreciate the effort."
"Worth it, Tony." Gibbs replied, searching through the freezer for something edible. "Like I told you when I brought you to D.C, I don't waste good, wouldn't have gone to the bother if I didn't think you were. I was right, as usual." Gibbs deadpanned as he tossed a frozen package of ground beef out onto the counter. "Should be some onions in the pantry, think I've got some canned veggies in there too, see what you can find."
"Sure, Boss. I can make a quick soup if you want, go farther than just a burger."
Gibbs raised his eyebrows at the younger man, and a smile formed on his face.
"Sweet. Carpentry skills and a chef."
"And the best senior field agent you've ever had."
"Y-yuhp!" Gibbs agreed, grabbing a beer and leaning back against the counter to watch Tony happily set out to make the home made soup. Somewhere inside his grown-up special agent was a special 'real boy', and they would both find him, eventually.