Storge (familiar love)

Gibbs still wasn't entirely sure when he basically became a parent to this rag-tag team of adults and, to be honest, he had stopped trying to figure it out. It tended to waste time and induce headaches. Something these people were incredibly adept at doing. Neither of which he was a fan of. That's what he was and that was okay with him. He had come to accept it over the years. Become protective of them bit by bit as they became his. Because they were his. Without a doubt. Especially since their actual parents were either dangerous or a bunch of morons. And, in some cases, both (Eli David).

Of course, Gibbs wasn't exactly the type of man to think much about his feelings and was even less likely to talk about them. Actually, he never talked about them but that was beside the point. But even for someone who didn't analyse his feelings too closely, even he knew that he was deeply fond of this family of his. And his, they were his family. They were his kids. They could be nothing else. That's what he thought of them and that was that. He was a man of few thoughts and he didn't like to overcomplicate things when you didn't have to. So, he didn't. They were his family; they were crazy and he looked out for them and reigned them in when he absolutely had to and that was that. There was no point in overanalysing it, it was what it was. It made sense anyway, there was nothing complicated about it. There were no deep thoughts involved or anything like that.

Tony somehow managed to be the stereotypical firstborn and middle child all at once. The responsible one (yes, the man was responsible), the one Gibbs turned to first, the one who either kept the others in line or led them in something utterly ridiculous. There was no middle ground with Tony. And then, of course, he was the obnoxious one, the loud one, the jokester, the one that always wanted to be seen and heard. Lile je was afraid of being glossed over and left out. He was pushy, he was loud and, in a way, he was needy. He appeared to be completely different from what Gibbs was like as a person.

Tony was the one who he had blatantly chosen. Plucked him right off the Police force and brought him to NCIS himself. Gibbs saw something in the young man that could be honed and be extremely useful. And he had been proved right, just like he had expected. What he hadn't expected was this protectiveness that had grown as the relationship between the two of them grew. And it was a stronger feeling than the normal urge to protect your partner or teammate.

Maybe it was because Tony was always eager to please. Wanting guidance. Needing guidance. But also used to being independent. Used to being by himself. And he wasn't by himself anymore. He needed to be reassured of that every now and then.

"Boss! Boss!" Tony called over as he returned. "Tell McGee that I'm right!"

"You aren't right!" McGee said indignantly.

"Ziva agrees with me."

"I am not involved in this," the dark-haired woman said, returning her attention firmly to her screen.

"But you did agree with me!"

"I did no such thing."

"Which means you think he's wrong!" McGee said.

"I am not getting involved." She repeated and then looked at Gibbs. "I was not here when they were going through this."

Both young men turned to him with almost identical indignant looks on their faces.

"Boss!"

Gibbs took one glance at the big screen and shook his head.

"DiNozzo's right."

"Ha! I told you!"

Gibbs caught the grateful look that Tony had quickly shot his way before becoming insufferably smug. There was that need for someone to be on his side. Even though he was right, he still wanted Gibbs to back him up. Sometimes he just needed someone to have his back. And Gibbs was happy to give that to him.

His relationship to McGee was different to that of his with Tony. Of course, it was, McGee was McGee and Tony was Tony. You couldn't get two people who were less alike in some ways and very alike in others. Gibbs supposed that that was just how brothers worked. Because that's what McGee and Tony were. Brothers. McGee was the younger one. Of course, he was the younger one. The less confident one that Gibbs tried to build up over the years (and was succeeding, McGee was so much better than he was a few years ago). The one that looked up to his older brother even though he would vehemently deny it if ever asked. But Gibbs knew. Gibbs knew everything. And saw everything. Which meant that he knew that McGee needed to prove himself. But not to him. To Tony.

"McGee, what sort of trouble was he getting himself into?"

That's all it took for the younger man to dive to his desk and start pulling things up. He did so with such alacrity that Tony couldn't hide how impressed he was. Something that cheered McGee right up.

Then there was Abby. The one he was close to first. Of course, he had chosen Tony to be on his team, the first one that was his and not inherited from Mike, but it was Abby he had become close to first. Who he would readily admit that he loved. Because Abby was just that sort of person. She worked her way into your heart and stayed there, refusing to move. And she made sure you loved her back. Oh boy, did she. Not that Gibbs minded. She was just the sort of person who could unlock his carefully shielded heart to let everyone else in. Something he was very grateful for. He was always grateful for Abby.

"Caf-POW? I haven't got the results back yet?"

He thrust the drink at her anyway and she beamed as she took it. Immediately slurping away. He shook his head fondly at her as she took a deep breath to tell him about something.

Ziva was the one who was most like him. The quiet one. Watchful. On edge. Distrustful of people in general. Dealt with far too much loss than the average person. The youngest in age yet the oldest in experience. The most protective of the four. The one willing to charge if she even got a whiff of any of them being in any sort of danger. No matter what happened to her. He didn't realise how terrifying that sort of personality could be until he met Ziva. How often his heart went in his mouth until he figured out how to manage her best. How to read her. Until She learned how to read him. To leak on him.

The two of them, they didn't need many words to get across what they meant. How they felt. Something Gibbs was kind of grateful for after Tony and Abby, who were both so very, very verbal.

A nod. A half smile. A touch to the arm. A pointed cough. That's all they really needed. Most of the time. He knew when she needed a quite word. Or a well done. Or to be pulled back and chided. He knew how to balance things with her and got the privilege of seeing her blossom on return in ways he suspected she didn't realise she had.

Yep, he leaned back in his chair and took a swig of coffee. This was his family.