Some time in the not too distant future…

"I'm asking for your help, Junior."

"I told you not to call me that!" Tony snapped.

Senior closed the distance between them, eyes blazing, and Tony's breath caught in his throat. Despite all his training, all his weapons and hand-to-hand proficiency, Tony felt himself step back—straight into the parking garage wall.

He saw his father's hand go up, knew what was coming, but didn't close his eyes—he wouldn't, for the same reason Will Hunting picked the wrench. His eyes locked onto his father's, strong, defiant, emotionless; it was all he could do while sweat dripped down his spine and his hands refused to move up to protect himself.

Both DiNozzos froze when they heard someone clear their throat. Someone who was not Senior.

Tony risked a glance over Senior's shoulder to see Gibbs leaning against the elevator bank, arms crossed over his chest.

His father's hand dropped to his side in a second. "Gibbs!"

"Boss…"

"Don't stop on my account," Gibbs said loosely. Only Tony, from years of working with the man, could see the tension in his body. "I'd love to arrest you for assaulting a federal agent."

"I believe there's been a misunderstanding—" Senior began.

"No." Gibbs shoved off the wall, shaking his head as he stepped closer. "No, I don't think there is."

"Boss," Tony tried, cursing the weak and unsteady beat to his voice, but was silenced by a sharp look from Gibbs.

"McGee needs you in the bullpen."

"Boss."

"Now!"

Tony didn't want to leave, for reasons he couldn't explain, but Gibbs fixed him with a look that could strip the paint off walls. Words suddenly stuck in his throat, he ducked his head and walked past Gibbs, who waited until Tony had disappeared in the elevator to turn back to Senior.

"Gibbs!" Senior was cut off by the lead agent approaching so quickly, it was Senior who now ended up with his back against the wall.

Gibbs didn't stop there though, leaning in until they were practically nose-to-nose. "You lay so much as one finger on him again, I'll break your whole hand." He smiled then, all teeth, tilting his head as if this was amusing. "Or I'll shoot ya. Save Tony the trouble."

"I'm afraid you don't understand," Senior blustered, but Gibbs was easily able to see through the cracks in his masks. The one Tony hid much better.

He grinned, watched Senior's eyes widen slightly in response. "You tried that already. I didn't believe you."

Lesser men would have caved. Senior just straightened his spine and hardened his glare. "Junior doesn't respect authority. Doesn't care for the needs of his family. And sometimes he needs to be reminded of who raised him."

"As he tells it, it was various nannies and boarding school RAs."

"He lied to you."

Gibbs shook his head. "It's the most honest I've ever seen him."

A brief frown flashed across Senior's face, gone as quick as it had appeared. The look in his eye had changed though, a new undercurrent of frantic, almost desperate energy. It was the look Gibbs sought in interrogations and interviews, a perfect snapshot of the moment the suspect realized how trapped they truly were. Sure enough, Senior shoved at Gibbs, trying to create some distance between them, but Gibbs dug in his heels, not moving at inch.

One more attempt and Senior stopped, pulled in a long breath, then said in a surprisingly level tone, "I believe we're at an impasse then, Gibbs."

"Not really. You will stay away from my agent until you're ready to be there for him, and for him only. No hidden agenda, no asking for money. When you're ready to reconnect for Tony's sake, give me a call—" Gibbs pulled his card from his wallet and shoved it into Senior's chest. "—and I'll consider it."

He tapped Senior on the side of the face none-too-gently, earning himself another flinch. Gibbs would be lying if he said he didn't feel some small sense of satisfaction based on that look alone, but it was a drop in the bucket compared to the rage he felt at all Tony had alluded he'd gone through as a kid.

With great reserve, Gibbs stepped back and straightened out Senior's lapels. "In the meantime," he continued, his voice deadly smooth, "if I see one bruise on your son that he can't explain, I will find you, and since I'm sure you're well-connected enough to know my history, you can guess what I'll do to you."

He smiled again, gesturing for the parking garage exit. "I trust you can see your way out?"

Senior swallowed hard but did as he was instructed—rather quickly, Gibbs noted with a small sense of pleasure. He waited until Senior had disappeared from the garage before heading back up to the third floor, where he wasn't at all surprised to find Tony pacing frantically by the elevator doors.

"He is alive, right?" Tony asked, trailing behind Gibbs on his way to his desk.

"He is."

"Like, clinging to life, choking on his own blood, or—"

"I barely touched him."

"Given your heavily redacted jacket, that doesn't really reassure me here, boss."

Gibbs looked up from the folder he'd been sorting to make eye contact with Tony. "He's alive, Tony. Walked out of the garage all on his own."

It didn't escape his notice how Tony looked relieved, which prompted Gibbs to lift his eyebrow in silent question.

"He's not worth it," Tony said after a minute.

"It would have been worth it. To me."

One corner of Tony's mouth pulled to the side before he smiled shyly. "I appreciate that, boss. Thanks."

He moved back toward his desk, a much welcome spring returned to his step.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony whirled around. "Yes, boss."

"Check in with Ducky, then go home."

"But my report…"

"It'll keep 'til Monday."

Tony blinked. "I don't need special treatment, boss."

"I know you don't. But it's been a long week and the report will keep."

Tony still looked shocked but he nodded. "Okay, boss. You coming?"

"I'll be down in a few."

He had to make a call to security first to make sure Senior had cleared the premises. If not, he had no doubt Ducky could spin enough yarns to keep Tony distracted until his father—even thinking the word elicited a scowl from Gibbs—was long gone.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" he called as Tony reached the elevator.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Got an extra steak in my fridge. You interested?"

Even without his glasses, Gibbs saw a myriad of emotions flick over Tony's face before his SFA nodded. "Steaks would be great, boss... As long as they fall under the 'no special treatment' category."

"They do."

"Then that sounds great."

"1900. You can bring the beer."

Tony grinned. "On it, boss."

Gibbs matched his expression, then as the elevator doors closed, he lifted his phone to call down to first Ducky then security.


And that's all she wrote!

Thanks again for all your wonderful support for this fic! I'd love to know what you thought on the way out!