Ten minutes after Tony left, Gibbs came strolling in to the bullpen. "Where's DiNozzo?" Ziva looked up, ready to do battle if necessary. "His father called…he is in town." Gibbs looked up at that. "Well, I guess that's enough to make Tony make a run for it. Is anything wrong?"

"Tony didn't really say, but I think he needed to see someone first before he saw his father." She looked at Gibbs significantly, providing no further explanation.

Gibbs looked at her, then nodded. "Make sure he is ok, Ziva."

"Always." She murmured.

This Vignette is based on an early spoiler in which it states that "Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. will resurface right around Christmas, in a holiday episode."

Vignette Two: "A Very DiNozzo Christmas- Part One"

Tony stood outside the Adams Hotel for a good ten minutes before he finally got the nerve to go inside. He walked up to the concierge desk.

"Yes sir, may I help you?"

"You can help me get out of here." Tony thought to himself. He looked at the young man standing behind the desk. "Yes, thank you. I am meeting Anthony DiNozzo here. He said he would meet me…"

"Junior!" Tony didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Standing ten paces away was his father. Inwardly, he was glad he was alone. But he still felt uneasy. Something was definitely going on.

Anthony, Sr. came up to his son and looked at him. "You look better than the last time I saw you. The dark circles under your eyes are gone. You look, almost at peace, except for the fact that you are here with me." Tony looked confused. Suddenly, his dad embraced him.

Tony awkwardly patted his shoulders. "Ok, Dad. That's enough. What is this about? You are really freaking me out."

Anthony, Sr. regarded his son for a few moments. "Let's go upstairs to my room. I'll explain everything once we are settled in."

"I'm not planning to spend the night, Dad." Tony snapped.

"Sorry, Jr., I was using the wrong terminology. Get comfortable? Sit in a chair? Is that better?" Tony felt a pang of embarrassment. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but on some level, he sensed his father was trying to have a serious conversation with him, and he wasn't helping by making snarky remarks.

Tony waved his arm forward. "Sorry, your call just, caught me off guard. After you." Together they entered the elevator. "How is Ziva? I miss seeing her." Sr. smiled at his son, as the elevator doors closed.

Once they were in his room, Tony wandered around aimlessly, picking up objects, and then just as quickly putting them down. His Father had gone into the bedroom. Suddenly, he reappeared, pulling a luggage cart.

On the cart was a large metal box that reminded Tony of a safety deposit box. The other box was almost as large, but clearly made out of a fine, expensive wood. An elegant lock was on the top, an intricate key already in place.

Tony rushed over to help his Dad when he realized he was trying to put them on the work table. Both boxes were rather heavy. Tony looked at his father, confused.

"Dad, what is all this?"

"It's your legacy, son."

Tony looked at his Dad, stunned. "Need a drink?" Tony shook his head silently.

"First of all," Anthony, Sr., began. "I take full responsibility for this. You should have been made aware, well, should have known about this, a long time ago. At first I wasn't able to deal with it. Then we went through that bad patch…"

Tony looked at his dad. "That bad patch. Do you mean the one that lasted twenty years?"

Anthony, Sr. had the grace to look abashed. "Yes, that would be the one. Anyway, then you had all sorts of weird things going on in your life."

"Wait a minute. Define 'weird'." Tony was getting annoyed.

"Ok, maybe weird wasn't the right term. Confused? Unsure of how your life should be going? And then, of' course, that horrendous act of terrorism against you and your co-workers."

Tony finally gave up trying to figure out where his Dad was going with all of this. "Ok, let me get this straight. You have something that belongs to me, but you never felt I was ready to get it or able to handle it until now. Is that an accurate summary?"

"That's why you're in the business you are in, Tony, and why you are so good at it. Yes, that pretty much sums it up. I'm not saying this is still not going to be difficult for you, but, well…it's time."

Anthony, Sr. sat down at the table, so Tony followed suit. Sr. opened the large metal box first and pulled out multiple documents, and handed them to Tony. At the top of the first document it stated: "The Estate of Margaret Paddington DiNozzo."

He scanned them briefly, but looked confused. "Dad, what am I looking at here?"

Anthony, Sr., sighed, and for a moment, and though he was sure he was mistaken, Tony thought he wiped his eyes. "Son, these are your inheritance documents…from your mother."

Tony and his Dad spent the next three hours going through the myriad of documents that his mother had compiled. She had significant stock holdings, she had property in England, and she had set up a trust fund for Tony when he had been born. As he had been her only child, all inheritance from her parents when they died that would have gone to her, went into his trust fund, as she had predeceased her parents.

Tony looked overwhelmed. "Dad, why didn't you give this to me when I became of age?" He didn't ask in anger, mostly out of curiosity.

"To be honest, and you probably won't believe this; but I was devastated when your mother died."

"Dad, why would you think that I wouldn't believe that?"

Sr. shrugged. "My behavior over the years has left a lot to be desired. I am never sure what you remember from before, all the craziness happened."

Tony nodded, indicting his father to continue. "Anyway, I just lost the love of my life, I had a small son. I went into denial. And that included talking to any lawyers. I had her things locked up in a safe deposit box, until I was ready to deal with it."

"The thing is I never was ready. Then, and I know you are going to find this hard to believe, but I actually forgot about it. This in retrospect is a very good thing. Otherwise, I probably would have spent every dime of this."

Tony frowned. "I thought it was left to me?"

His Dad cleared his throat. "You were, are, the legal heir. But as a minor, as your father I was the executor and holder of the estate until you became of age."

Tony accepted that. "What made you remember?" Tony asked.

"The original lawyer passed away and the firm notified me to ask me if I wanted to continue to let the firm handle things or take it to my own lawyer. I felt like I had been kicked in the gut." Tony quietly got up and poured his Dad a scotch. After thinking about it for about five seconds, he poured himself one as well.

"Thanks." His Dad looked up and smiled. "And the strange thing is it's almost like this was exactly the right time for this to happen."

Tony frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it Jr. If you got all this money at the age of 30, you would have bought a Ferrari and blown it all within one year. Things are different now, you are different.

"That's an understatement." Tony thought to himself. "So what do you think would be a responsible thing for me to buy now?" Tony was really curious what his Dad considered "responsible."

"Do you want the truth?"

Tony looked surprised. "Of' course I want the truth."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with buying yourself a car if you really need one, but I would spend it on something permanent."

"You want me to buy something permanent." Tony echoed. "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't know, maybe something permanent, like a home."

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "Uh, huh." His father replied. He pulled the large wooden box over. "There's more."

Tony was feeling lightheaded. "More?"

"This box contains all of your mother's jewelry, which is now yours. Many of the items in here are family heirlooms, handed down through her family." Anthony, Sr. pulled out several velvet boxes until he found the one he was looking for.

"For example…" He silently handed it to Tony, who took it hesitantly. "Open it." His father encouraged.

Taking a deep breath, Tony opened the small jeweler's box. What he saw inside took his breath away. Surrounded by satin, a large solitaire diamond in a platinum setting was nestled inside. On either side of the solitaire were emerald cut sapphires. The ring was exquisite, clearly very valuable, and custom made. Tony looked up at his dad. "Dad, did you…?"

"Give this to your mother? Yes, but I can make no claim to it. The ring belonged to her mother, and to her mother's mother before her. If we had had a daughter, she would have been given this ring. This ring is now yours to give to…" Tony looked up his father. "To give to the love of your life when you are ready to make that commitment."

Tony looked at the ring a few seconds longer, then carefully closed the box. "Here." His father shoved another box toward him. "This is a piece of family jewelry that I would like you to take now. Not that you don't get to take all of this now, but I think it would make a very lovely Christmas gift for a very lovely young lady."

"Dad." Tony warned. "Don't give me that, Tony. You know you are going to give her something."

Tony sighed and opened the second box. Inside was a set of pearl earrings, set on platinum posts with diamond accents. While Tony was sure that these earrings were not by any means inexpensive, they also weren't in the same category as the engagement ring. As much as he hated to admit it, his Dad was right. It was a perfect gift and Ziva would love them.

Sr. cleared his throat. "There is another gift I gave your mother and if it is alright with you, I would like to have it…to give as a Christmas gift for someone special to me."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "You want a piece of my mother's family jewelry to give to some…woman?" He had trouble keeping the disgust out of his voice.

"Easy, Anthony. First of all, that piece of jewelry is not part of your mother's family. I bought it for her. And while it really is no business of yours who I give it to, since the jewelry really belongs to you, I guess I can give you 'something' that may calm you down."

Tony looked at his Dad. "Well?"

Sr. flashed his charming smile. "I am not giving it as a Christmas gift to some new, or old, lady friend. It is for someone very special to me, and I think when you see who it is for, you will understand and I hope be pleased."

"And when exactly will I see who it is for?"

"When I decide, Tony. When I decide."

Tony sighed, not entirely happy, but aware he wasn't going to get anything more than that. "Can I at least see what it is you are talking about?"

Sr. slid a slightly larger velvet box toward his son. "I see you already had it pulled aside." Tony quipped. Taking the box, he carefully opened it. Inside was a bracelet. A pearl bracelet with diamond accents. It looked to be an exact match to…

"Yes, it matches the earring I just forced you to give to Ziva."

Tony ignored the "forced." "I thought you said this wasn't part of the family collection?"

"It isn't. Those earrings were given to your mother by her parents to wear at our wedding. They were her favorite. For our first anniversary, I had this bracelet made to match them. My Meg…she was my beautiful, precious pearl. This has a lot of good memories for me, Tony."

"Meg." Tony murmured. "I don't remember you calling Mom that."

Sr. chuckled. "It was my private nickname for her. Her parents were, well I guess the best way to say it is that they were straight laced and very, very correct. She was always referred to as 'Margaret' and you were 'Anthony.'" He took a deep breath.

"So Meg and Tony were only between the two of us when we were private, and that even meant when we were not in front of you. You were a little blabber-mouth when you were little. We had to be very careful what we said in front of you." Sr. was laughing at the memory.

Tony laughed too. "I have no memory of that either. Ok, Dad. Take it. Just let me know what you do with it, ok? It belonged to my mother. It matters to me who the next owner will be."

Sr. put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I can promise you that you will be the second person to know."

Tony's apartment

It was almost 10:30pm by the time Tony finally let himself into his apartment. He smiled when he realized Ziva was on his sofa, sitting up waiting for him.

As soon as he walked in, she came over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She had no idea if this meeting with his father had been good or bad, but felt she couldn't go wrong either way. Besides, she really liked having his arms around her.

Tony kissed her softly, and pressed his forehead against hers. "Everything ok?" She asked softly.

"Everything's…weird." Seeing her confused expression, he grabbed her hand and led her back to the sofa.

"Do you want something to drink?" Ziva stroked his cheek. "There is some wine."

"I had a scotch with my Dad but yeah, I think a drink would be a good idea." Ziva started to get up, but he put his hand on her leg. "I've been sitting for three hours; let me get this."

Ziva watched him as he retrieved two glasses from the cupboard, and then poured generous portions into each. Walking slowly back toward his...This stopped Tony. His what?

They never bothered to name what their relationship was. She was still certainly his friend, his best friend. His lover? Well, that was true as well, but sounded kind of tawdry. His girlfriend? That was also true, but sounded so high school.

His everything? Now that really sounded like the title of a really bad movie. Tony suddenly shivered. He knew exactly what Ziva was to him and it suddenly scared him to pieces, especially if she didn't feel the same.

"Hey, are you ok?" Ziva's voice brought him to the present. "Yeah, sorry. Brain is just a little on overload at the moment." He quickly closed the distance between them and sat back down on the sofa.

"For you." He handed her the glass. To her surprise, he held his up, as if giving a toast. "Tonight shed a lot of light on some things, and revealed some things I never knew. Here's to hoping, and I really mean hoping, that something very good will come from all of this."

They clinked glasses and took a sip of their wine. Ziva regarded him silently. "That was very cryptic. I know it is late. If you would like to talk about it some other time…"

Tony surprised her by grabbing her hand. "My father just gave me my inheritance from my mother."

Ziva's breath caught in her throat. "Oh, Tony. That must have been very difficult for you…and I imagine your father."

Tony took a generous swallow of his wine. "It's a lot to process. She left me quite a bit, a lot for me to still go through. Everything's in a safe deposit box at the hotel, but tomorrow I am going to have to go get it and take it to my lawyer. There's a lot of paper work that I don't quite understand."

Ziva nodded her understanding. "I told Gibbs your father called and insisted that you meet. So I am sure he will understand why you will find it necessary to need to stay home from work tomorrow."

Tony smiled, draped his arm across her shoulders and nuzzled her neck. "Do you think he will understand why you also need to stay home from work tomorrow?" Ziva laughed. "Well, I don't know about that, although he did tell me to make sure you were ok."

Tony sat up a little straighter. "He did? Do you think he's on to us?"

Ziva frowned. "Not at the time he said it, but now that you say it, I am not sure. If he is, he hasn't made any effort to keep us apart."

Tony considered that. "Well, I think we've done a pretty good job of keeping it out of the office." He eyed Ziva, his eyes soft and dreamy. "But we aren't at the office now, are we?"

"Mmmmm, no we are not." Ziva put her glass down and kissed Tony deeply. Tony followed suit and in less than five minutes they were in his bed, clothes abandoned on the floor, lost in each other.

This Christmas story has taken on a life of its own, so it is now in two parts. I think it is clear from the most recent episodes that Tony and his Dad are trying to figure out how to have a relationship, I am writing it to that effect. Thanks for the support and reviews. They are very much appreciated.