'Dammit, Kate! What the hell did you say to him this time?'

Gibbs was aware that Tony was still within earshot but it had been a long, emotional day and he'd had enough of Kate sniping at Tony and displaying what amounted to complete indifference over the loss of one of their own. They were meant to be a team, supporting each other through the bad times not constantly at odds with each other, and if he didn't do something to put an end to it soon there would be no team.

That wasn't to say that over the years he hadn't done his own share of DiNozzo-baiting. In the beginning it was to keep the young and often over-enthusiastic ex-cop in line, tame his wild streak. The NCIS was a federal agency with its roots set firmly in the discipline of both the Navy and the Marine Corps, and further removed from the haphazard rules of a police department it would be hard to get. When it came to DiNozzo, Gibbs had developed the skill of riding him just hard enough to keep him on track – most of the time – without stifling his innate skills as an investigator. It was a fine line he was walking, a lighter touch than he had used during his days as a DI, heavier than he had used with most of the agents who had come and gone over the years. A balancing act that could change from moment to moment, but so far the technique had proved successful. From being an asset to the team in the early days, Tony had gone on to become its driving force and one of the best agents it had ever been his privilege to work with.

Not that he would ever tell him that to his face of course.

'I – I don't know what you mean, Gibbs,' she said, but while her mouth said one thing, her eyes... Her eyes told him she knew exactly what she had done. And why.

'Don't play games with me, Agent Todd.' A decibel or two higher, the warning note clear. Despite the muted lighting he knew she would be blushing, caught in the lie.

Face neutral, she shrugged. 'I was just – teasing him.' She tried a smile, but it missed the mark by a mile. 'Just – looking for a little payback.' The loaded glance she aimed towards the closing elevator doors made Gibbs' blood boil, but when she added flippantly: 'Guess he's not as good as he thought he was', the former Marine almost lost it.

Throughout the trials of three failed marriages, the arguments, the betrayals, the physical abuse, he had never allowed his anger to slip beyond his control. He was close to it now. For the first time he actually found himself regretting having brought her onto the team. She was good at her job, one of the best profilers he had ever worked with, but right at that moment the negatives far outweighed the positives.

'Payback?' The word tasted like vomit on his tongue. 'You think it's okay to turn this whole thing around, that you can take what Voss did and – and use it to humiliate DiNozzo?'

She paled visibly and tried to move away but he stared her down, pinning her to the spot. 'He... he knows it was just a joke...'

'Yeah? Well from where I was standing I didn't see him laughing.'

'Gibbs –'Abby spoke from behind him, the note of pleading in her voice cutting a swathe through his anger. He cut her off with a flip of his hand, not wanting to let go of the feeling just yet. Had he been the only one to see the look on Tony's face just before he walked out? Or was he the only one who really cared?

'Go home, Abs.'

'But –'

'Go home.' With a silent order to Kate that warned her not to even think of moving until he had finished with her, he turned around, and in that tiny movement his whole attitude changed. The lift of his lips into something approaching a smile, the slight thawing of the ice in his eyes, marked the difference between his relationship with Abby and his feelings towards Kate at that moment. One thing he knew for certain, Abby would never do to Tony what Kate had done and for that reason he would not show his anger to her.

The Goth beauty was sitting in McGee's lap, her head down, her hands clasped demurely on her knees. He knew the posture: it was the body language she used to convey her own embarrassment, her discomfort with something she knew she should not have witnessed. He deepened the smile and added a measure of reassurance as he gripped her shoulders and forced her to look at him.

'McGee will take care of you.'

'You're not going to fire Kate, are you?'

He hesitated because, just for a moment, he had considered it. He knew that it if came to a choice between losing Tony and losing Kate, there would be no choice.

'No, I'm not going to fire her, Abs,' he promised, adding silently 'Not this time'.

'But what about Tony?'

'He'll be fine.' A statement of certainty. Tony would be okay because Gibbs would make sure of it, before he went anywhere near his own bed that night.

He opened his mouth to tell her again that she should go when he realised that what he had thought was her usual nervous gesticulating, brought out by the tension of the moment and one too many Caf-Pows, was actually her signing to him. Quickly, he caught her hands in his, firing a wary glance from her to McGee. This was dangerous territory. Abby had known about his feelings for Tony almost as long as they had existed, but McGee did not. The last thing Gibbs wanted was for speculation about them to spread through the Norfolk office.

'Okay,' he said, bringing her attention back to him. 'Again – and slowly this time.'

'Gibbs -- !' she wailed, frustrated.

'Abby.' He sighed. 'Look, it's late, I'm tired, and I'm out of practice, okay, so..?'

She nodded and her hands began to move again, more slowly this time, the actions precise. {{I said, Tony needs you. He's hurt, Gibbs, and he thinks he let you down}}.

{{Tony didn't let me down...}}

{{But he thinks he did. He needs you to tell him...}} She paused, clearly waiting for an answer. {{Promise me you'll go see him.}} When he stayed silent she signed again, her own growing anger in the sharpness of her hand movements. {{If you love him...}}

'I will...' he promised aloud, needing to shut her up before the rest of them caught on.

'Tonight, Gibbs.'

'Okay! Geez, Abs...' Indulgent laughter bubbled in his words. Had they been alone in her lab he probably would have hugged her, but this was neither the place nor the time, so he settled for tugging on one of her pigtails instead. 'Go. Home.'

She stood up, tugging on McGee's hand to bring him with her as she moved away from the desk, but just as Gibbs was about to return his attention to Kate, she halted, causing McGee to stumble into her. Ignoring him, she turned back to Gibbs and, with the same determination that she showed during an investigation, quickly signed: {{He really cares about you, Gibbs}}.

Had Tony told her that, or was she just taking a good guess? He had no idea and he was too damn tired to try to work it out. For now, all he could do was nod a brief acknowledgement and meet her stare with as much dignity as he could.

'I know, Abby. I know.'

'Then do something about it,' she said. {{Before you lose him.}}

'Okay!'

'Promise, Gibbs.'

He loved her dearly, in some ways she was the daughter he had lost all those years ago, but there were moments when she pushed his patience beyond its limits. 'I promise, okay!'

Yet the frustration in his voice, and her smug answering grin, somehow eased the tension between them, and this time he did kiss her – just a peck on the cheek – before he whispered: 'Thanks, Abs,' in her ear.

He shooed her away then, but as McGee made to follow he caught the young agent by the arm and, in his most intimidating voice, said 'Take her home, McGee. Stay with her.'

'I will, sir – I mean Boss...'

'Anything happens to her, you'll answer to me. Got it?'

'A-absolutely, sir.' The deer-in-the-headlights look McGee shot him confirmed to Gibbs that the message had been heard and understood.

This time she did leave. He watched her walk to the elevator and step aboard; watched until the doors closed, whisking her away to collect her things from her lab. Only when he was sure she had gone did he turn to look at Kate.

'That was for Abby's benefit, not yours,' he told her coldly, and this time she had the grace to flinch from his tone. 'So tell me, Agent Todd, what's going on with you and DiNozzo?'

She cleared her throat and fixed her gaze on the knot of his tie. 'I told you, I was just –'

'Jerking his chain. I got that. What I want to know is – why?'

'Does it matter?' she demanded. 'Tony's a big boy, Gibbs. He doesn't need you to fight his battles for him.'

Gibbs' eyes grew round, brows arching at her candour. 'Is that what you think I'm doing?'

Her answering 'Isn't it?' smacked of insubordination, but he let it slide.

He shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. It really was all just a sick game to her. 'What the hell did the Secret Service do to you, Kate?'

'I don't understand...'

'You've got the makings of a good agent, but there's times I think you don't have a compassionate bone in your body. The White House forget to give you your emotions back when you quit?' He took a pace closer to her, blue gaze locked with brown. 'Maybe to you Chris Pacci was just the guy at the next desk, but he and Tony were best friends on and off the job. So tell me Kate – how would you feel if you found out you just kissed the bastard who killed your best friend? Who sliced out his guts and dumped them on the floor of an elevator?'

By the time he finished speaking there were tears in her eyes. He knew he had been hard on her, but there were some things you never joke about, and the death of a friend came top of the list.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'Yeah? Well it's not me you need to apologise to.'

As quickly as it had built, his anger began to subside. He was glad to let it go, but the backwash took with it the last of his resilience. Pacci had been his friend too and for far longer, and he knew he would never forget what he had seen in that elevator. Nobody deserved to die like that.

Slumping down on the corner of McGee's desk, he scrubbed his hands over his face, wondering if the day would ever end and allow him to go home. Kate had a tissue in her hand and was carefully wiping away the smudges of mascara. He felt suddenly sorry for her, but the problems between her and Tony had been building for too long and he had known something would have to give eventually.

'I know what he can be like,' he said softly, 'How good he is at getting people all wound up and then just – standing back and watching the spring pop. Hell, he's been doing it to me for three years, and he still gets me sometimes!' He laughed then, imagining Tony's wide, white smile. God, what he wouldn't give to be with him right then.

She answered with a small smile. 'He's really good at that, playing games with people.'

'But it works when he needs it to. He's the best damn investigator I know.'

'Better than you?' she ventured, and this time he laughed openly.

'Hell yes! And when he gets his chance he'll be the best director this service ever had.' He meant it, too. In five years, ten at most, Tony would be running the place. Of course, Gibbs himself would be long retired by then.

'The thing is, Kate, if you're going to play Tony's game you need to learn his rules. Before you both get hurt.'

She looked at him, long and hard, and he waited for her to work it out. She was an intelligent woman after all: surely she would get it. Eventually.

'Have you?' she asked at last, leaning against the edge of his desk and folding her arms.

'Have I what?'

'Learned Tony's rules.'

As if it was that simple. He shrugged, letting his gaze slide away from hers, the last of his tension ebbing away. 'Go home, Kate. Get some sleep.'

'You're not going to answer me, are you?'

A smirk. 'Nope.' If he made it too easy for her she would never appreciate the lesson. Anyhow, as good a profiler as she was, he doubted even she would be able to connect all the dots when it came to Anthony DiNozzo, not until she could see behind the public persona and know the real man. Gibbs could, but he had been studying Tony for three years so he had a head start. Kate, on the other hand, had been too sheltered, too cosseted in her upbringing. She could study Tony for a lifetime and never understand him.

'You still here?'

The question caught her attention and she moved quickly to gather her things. 'No, I'm gone. I'll see you on Monday, Gibbs.'

'Bright and early,' he agreed. 'Have a good weekend, Kate, and – think about what I said.'

Storm over, they were back on an even keel, at least for the time being. He knew the incident was far from over, that the issue of Voss and that kiss would raise its ugly head the next time Tony did something to piss Kate off, but until then he would let it go.

Right now there were other things to take care of, and top of that list was Tony.

Powering down his computer, he stowed Pacci's possessions under his desk, pulled on his overcoat and retrieved his ID and Sig from his desk. He was in the elevator and heading down when it occurred to him he had no idea where Tony might be. It was a good half hour since DiNozzo had quit the office and at the time he had been mad as hell. That and the bang on the head during the bar fight meant he was unlikely to be in a fit condition to drive. If he was sensible, he would have called a cab – but when did the word 'sensible' ever apply to Anthony DiNozzo? No, he was more likely to try driving himself home and end up in a ditch, or wrapped around a tree.

He was about to step off the elevator on the ground floor when something, some sixth sense, held him back, and he punched the button again, heading on down to Autopsy. It was no surprise to find Ducky waiting outside the sliding doors, overcoat on and his trademark hat clasped in his hand.

'Ah Jethro!' the ME greeted. 'I was beginning to think you were going to let me down.'

'Let you down, Duck?'

'When young Anthony appeared I knew you wouldn't be far behind.'

'He's here?' Gibbs gaze turned towards the darkened room, searching out the familiar figure.

'Yes. He arrived as I was about to leave.'

'What did he want?'

For a moment Ducky hesitated, following the direction of Gibbs' gaze. 'He... asked to see Christopher. He seemed rather – agitated. Needless to say, I was reluctant to leave him on his own.'

Gibbs took a step towards the door. In an odd way it made sense that Tony would turn up here. 'He had a confrontation with Kate.'

Ducky sighed. 'Oh dear... Knowing the sibling rivalry between those two, I assume it was somewhat - unpleasant?'

'Oh yeah.' Reluctantly, he dragged his gaze away from the room and focussed on Ducky. 'You think he'll be okay, Ducky?'

'Tony?' A nod. 'This is the first time he's lost someone close since Peoria but... yes, given time he'll work through it. He's a very resilient young man.'

Gibbs gave a little disparaging grunt. 'Given what he went through as a kid, he had to be,' he said bitterly. Not that he knew the finer details, but Tony had let enough hints drop over the years to confirm that his childhood had been far from happy.

'Very true.' Smoothing the brim of his hat, Ducky set it neatly on his head. 'Would you like me to stay?'

A shake of Gibbs' head as he reached to give the ME's shoulder a squeeze. 'I'll see you Monday, Duck.'

Ducky nodded and moved towards the elevator, punching the button. As he stepped on board Gibbs called softly 'Hey Ducky...'

'Yes, Jethro?'

'Thanks.'

Silence folded in around him. Squaring his shoulders, Gibbs slipped through the sliding doors, into the shadows.

The main lights were off, but there was a soft glow from the far end of the room, where the chilled compartments storing the bodies were located. One of the doors was open, the table pulled part way out. Gibbs didn't need to be told that the corpse beneath the turned-back sheet belonged to Special Agent Christopher Pacci.

Treading softly, Gibbs approached, taking a moment to assess the situation. Tony was leaning up against the wall to the left of the door. His eyes were closed – Gibbs wondered if he was praying – and he had one arm wrapped across his chest. The other arm trailed low, hand resting beside the pallid shoulder of their dead friend. Ducky had said that Tony was very agitated when he arrived, but all Gibbs could sense now was an overwhelming peace, as if this was exactly where Tony needed to be.

'Hey Boss.' The greeting was soft, his voice calm in the silence of the tiled room.

'Tony. You okay?'

A smile; not the harsh, insincere smile he often used, but one that was warm and genuine, wrapping around Gibbs' senses like a lover's embrace. 'Yeah. Ducky tell you I was here?'

'He was worried about you.' He looked from Tony's face to the dead man. 'I thought you went home.'

'I was going to – even got as far as the parking lot - but you were right. Soon as I got in the car I knew I was no good to drive, so I came up here to say 'goodbye' to Chris instead. Never got the chance before.'

There was no suggestion of censure in his voice, yet Gibbs immediately felt guilty. With the investigation and the stakeout, taking Kate with him to the memorial service had been the quickest option. It had never occurred to him to send her to the apartment and let Tony go with him to honour Pacci.

'That was my fault,' he confessed. 'I didn't think...'

Tony shook his head. 'It's okay, Boss. Chris understands.' He smiled, patting the cold flesh under his hand. 'Anyhow, if I went to the memorial I would have missed the chance to connect with Voss. Couldn't risk the trail going cold again.'

'You're probably right. On the other hand, you wouldn't have been put at risk. Voss could have killed you, Tony, you ever think of that?'

'I try not to.' The green gaze lowered to settle on Pacci's face. 'Why is it always the good guys who get taken down?'

Gibbs had asked himself that question, every time an agent died in the line of duty. 'Not always. It just – hurts more.' He heard the roughness in his own voice and coughed slightly to clear it, grateful when Tony let it pass unremarked.

Reaching out, he picked up the edge of the sheet and drew it carefully back into place. Tony watched him, nodding, and slid the drawer home, closing and latching the door.

A gentle slap on the young man's shoulder. 'C'mon, DiNozzo. Let's go home.'

They fell into step as they made their way to the parking lot, shoulders bumping lightly as they walked. It felt good to have Tony there beside him, where he belonged. As much as he liked the others, as close as he was to Ducky and Abby, it was Tony he felt closest to. Tony might make jokes about how unreachable Gibbs could be, but in reality nobody understood him the way Tony did.

'Just gotta grab my stuff, Boss,' Tony announced, veering off towards his usual bay, grabbing his overnight bag from the trunk of the car and taking time to double check that it was securely locked.

'Quit fussing, DiNozzo,' Gibbs complained good-naturedly.

'Not fussing, Boss, just being thorough.' He swung the bag over his shoulder. 'Ready?'

'No, DiNozzo, I'm just standing here to admire the scenery.' As he hoped, the retort came out with a sharp edge of sarcasm, yet it won him a chuckle and a speculative look from Tony. Then again, Tony could be considered 'scenery' of a sort.

Turning sharply, he began to walk towards his own vehicle, smiling to himself. He knew the moment Tony fell back into step with him, knew also that there was a similar smile on his companion's face. At that moment in time it was all they needed.

As he drove towards the exit, Gibbs felt Tony's eyes settle on him once more, a mixture of uncertainly and concern in the verdant depths. 'I hear you spoke to Kate,' was all Tony said.

Gibbs grunted noncommittally. It was inevitable that Tony would find out eventually, but he had not expected it to be quite so soon. 'Who told you? Abby?'

'McGee, actually. By the way, what the hell did you do to him?'

'What d'you mean?'

'He came running off the elevator like the hounds of hell were after him. Looked so scared, for a minute there I thought he was gonna piss his pants.'

Gibbs shrugged. 'Just told him to take Abby home and look after her.'

Tony winced. 'Okay, I get it now. I take it he does know you're not her father?'

Gibbs answered with a grunt. Maybe Abby was not his own flesh and blood, but he had known her, and her family, long enough to have a vested interest in her safety.

They had driven another block before Tony cleared his throat and said 'You do know you didn't need to... talk to Kate about what happened?'

'If you're about to tell me you can fight your own battles, I already got that from her.'

'I can imagine.' A flash of white in the shadows as Tony grinned. 'But... she is right.'

'I agree: most of the time you can, and most of the time I'd let you.' He eased the car in a smooth slalom around a slow moving truck with Department of Sanitation stencilled on the side.

Tony allowed his body to roll with the motion, leaning briefly into Gibbs personal space as the car swerved back into lane. 'So, why not tonight?' he asked.

A full half minute passed as Gibbs searched for an answer. Under normal circumstances he would not have intervened, leaving the two of them to work things out in their own way, but tonight his gut had warned him that Tony was in no condition, physically or emotionally, to cover his own ass, fight Kate at her own game.

'Since the day we met, even before you joined my team, I knew I could trust you. Whether it was needed or not, I always knew you had my back. I don't know what got to Kate so much – maybe something about the he-she stuff clashed with her upbringing. Whatever set her off, I knew you needed someone on your six tonight and I - wanted it to be me.'

After a long silence, Tony prompted: 'Care to tell me why? Not that I don't appreciate it,' he added quickly.

Gibbs knew that Tony would immediately see through any lie, and at the end of the day it was no big deal really. 'Because I think it's something Chris would have wanted me to do and... 'His voice dropped, became thick with emotions he had held in check all day. '...because I let him down.'

'It wasn't your fault he died, Boss.' Tony pointed out, an exasperated sigh threading his voice.

Gibbs remained silent, knowing that much was true. Even if he had taken time out from chasing Curtain there was no guarantee Pacci would have been safe. The whole thing with Voss was a cold case and there was no reason to think anyone was at risk. According to the files, Voss was long dead, end of story.

He expected more questions, well aware of the man's unstoppable curiosity, but none came. Tony simply nodded acceptance and dug into his pocket for his cell phone.

'Okay, since you came to my rescue, and now you're driving me home – for which I'm grateful by the way – least I can do is offer you dinner.' He waved the phone in Gibbs' line of sight.

All Gibbs' instincts cautioned him to respond with a polite 'thanks, but no thanks', that he was sailing too close to breaking Rule Twelve, but he was hungry, he was tired and, above all, he did not want to give up Tony's company just yet.

'What did you have in mind?' he asked. 'Not pizza...'

Tony let out a small chuckle. 'Contrary to what everyone thinks, I don't exist on pizza and Chinese food. Anymore than you survive on intravenous caffeine.'

'You sure about that?' he teased.

'I know, Boss. So I was thinking – Lucia's?'

Gibbs suddenly became interested. 'Isn't that a little expensive?'

'My treat,' Tony offered.

The thought of the kind of home-cooked Italian food that was a speciality of Lucia's had Gibbs' taste buds tingling. 'They still do that sauce I had last time? The one with the clams?'

'Vongole? Yeah.'

'And some of that bread...'

'With olives?' That earned him one of Gibbs' 'what kind of dumb question is that?' looks and he laughed. 'What am I thinking - of course with olives. We better stop and pick up some beer, or do you want wine?'

'Wine is okay.' More than okay, he added to himself. Tony had what the experts referred to as an 'educated palate' when it came to wine and always had several good quality bottles to hand. Sharing one would give him a perfect excuse to crash on Tony's oversized couch and maybe, if he was lucky, spend a lazy Saturday morning in his company.

He listened while Tony placed the order, requesting Ragu di Tonno for himself and adding a couple of salads. He spoke in fluent Italian, and the rich, melodious tone of his voice, punctuated by occasional ripples of laughter, made Gibbs grip on the steering wheel grow tighter as the words stroked over his senses. It was almost an anticlimax when he flipped the phone closed and reverted to English.

'It'll take about thirty minutes, so Lucia promised to put on a pot of coffee especially for you.'

Gibbs grunted in anticipation of a cup or two of some of the best coffee in that part of town and settled back into the drive. He could feel Tony watching him, could sense the insatiable curiosity rolling off him in waves, and after a moment or two he challenged: 'Something on your mind, DiNozzo?'

'Just curious, Boss...' He could hear the shrug in Tony's voice.

'About?'

'Why you didn't go to Pacci's wake.'

It was not the question Gibbs had expected and at first he was at a loss how to respond. Most of the other agents were going and Director Morrow had agreed to stop by briefly, but word had quickly spread that Gibbs had taken Voss down and he had already found himself subjected to a barrage of backslaps and handshakes and words of congratulation. He did not feel comfortable being congratulated for killing someone, even a bastard like Voss. If he went to the wake there was a good chance more of the same would happen and the whole thing would be turned into a circus, with him as the ringmaster.

'Because they should be focussing on Chris, not on Voss.'

Tony nodded slowly, understanding. 'Good point.'

'How 'bout you?'

A sigh greeted the question. 'Too tired, too sore.... Too angry.'

'Angry? At who?'

'Myself mostly. I should have seen through her, but I didn't. She fooled me, Boss. How could I let that happen?'

An angry sound rumbled in Gibbs' throat: he hated it when Tony allowed himself to be ruled by his insecurities, when all the little negative aspects of his life thus far coalesced into one major blow to his self esteem.

'Dammit, Tony! Voss had us all fooled. If Abby hadn't cross-checked the DNA we might never have known and Voss would have gotten away with another murder.'

He eased the sedan into the right turn that brought them onto the street where the restaurant was located, and slowed to a halt outside the brightly-lit building. Cutting the engine, he shifted around in his seat until he could look at Tony full-on. Cautiously, he raised a hand to rest on Tony's shoulder.

'Make you a deal, Tony... I'll stop obsessing about Chris' death if you'll stop feeling guilty about Amanda Reed.'

He waited, watching for Tony's reaction, relieved when he heard the small chuckle that bubbled in his throat and the equally soft 'Deal'.

It would have been enough, he could have lived with Tony's acceptance and nothing more, but just as he was about to withdraw his hand Tony turned his head, smiling, and Gibbs found his fingers trapped in the angle of shoulder and neck. Without stopping to think, he turned his wrist and stroked his fingers lightly over the soft flesh just above the collar of Tony's shirt and Tony, in response, leaned into the touch, his end-of-day stubble rasping Gibbs' skin. It sent a shock of desire through the older man, making his own skin tingle, stealing his breath and his reason. He whispered 'Tony –', the sound barely audible above the pounding of his heart and the roar of blood in his ears. By the time he felt Tony's fingertip touch his lips, compelling him to silence, Gibbs was ready to fly apart.

'Later.' It sounded like an order and Gibbs took it as such, delaying separation only long enough to brush his thumb once along the angle of Tony's jaw before drawing away and opening the door.

As they walked into the restaurant, shoulder to shoulder, Gibbs' mind was in turmoil. What the hell just happened? he wondered. Under normal circumstances physical contact between them was minimal, a pat on the back or a swat to the head, both always delivered by Gibbs. Tony rarely, if ever, touched him – something Gibbs had always regretted. Suddenly the boundaries had shifted. He had touched Tony – nothing new in that – but this time Tony had responded. This time it had all been so much more intimate than ever before, and Tony's whispered 'Later' had been – what? An invitation? Or a promise? Only time would tell.

In the lobby of the restaurant was a small seating area reserved for those awaiting a table or a take-out order. Tony motioned Gibbs to a small sofa and they sat, side by side, to await their meal. Less than a minute later a door opened and a small, round woman appeared, carrying a pot of freshly brewed coffee and two cups, which she set down on the table.

'Antonio!' she greeted, leaning down to wrap Tony's head and most of the upper part of his body in a huge embrace. 'Why have you stayed away so long?'

'Good evening, Mama Lucia,' Tony greeted, voice muffled against her ample bosom.

'Let me look at you...' Releasing him, she now held him off at arms' length. 'You look tired.'

'It's been a long week.'

'You work too hard. Look at you – you're so pale, and when did you last eat?'

To Gibbs' amusement, Tony tried his best to protest, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. Damn, but the guy could look sweet when he was flustered.

But suddenly the stream of Italian anger was turned his way and Gibbs, tough Marine that he was, actually flinched. 'Why do you make him work so hard? Look at him! He is fading away.'

'Mama, Mama!' Tony laughed, rising to his feet and reaching down to hug her. 'I'm fine, I promise.' To Gibbs he explained 'She thinks you're overworking me.'

Gibbs snorted. 'Like that'll ever happen.'

'You take care of this boy, Agent Jethro,' Lucia warned him sternly, and Gibbs stared her down, wide-eyed at her familiarity. To date he had only visited the restaurant on two occasions and conversation between him and Lucia had been minimal. Maybe Tony had said something to her.

'I will ma'am,' he told her, noticing Tony's shy smile out of the corner of his eye. 'You have my word.'

She seemed satisfied, nodding at him as she reached an arm around Tony once more. 'And you, Beautiful Boy – It's time you find someone and settle down. All the times you come in here alone. It is not good for you. You tell him, Agent Jethro.'

Gibbs raised his hands in a 'leave me out of this' gesture, but as he looked across at Tony the breath caught in his throat at the open and honest expression of hope in the green eyes. It was a plea he could not ignore, and suddenly found he didn't want to ignore it.

'It's never good to be alone, Mama Lucia.' The words were directed to the woman but his gaze never relinquished its hold on Tony's. 'And I'm sure Tony knows that when he's ready to settle down, all he has to do is say the word and I'll be there... to – advise him.'

He saw the shadow of astonishment that crossed Tony's face, heard the tiny gasp of – what? Shock? Delight? Whatever it might be, Gibbs promised himself that he would find out before the night was over.

Satisfied that her favourite patron would be safe in Gibbs care, even if she had no idea what form that care might take, Lucia waddled off to the kitchen.

'Gibbs?' Tony ventured when they were once more alone, but Gibbs shook his head.

'Not here.'

Tony ignored him. 'You can't say something like that and expect me not to be – curious.'

'I don't.' Gibbs grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. It was hot and strong, exactly the way he liked it. 'I know you're curious and you deserve answers, but this is not the time or the place for that conversation. Trust me.'

'I always do,' Tony responded. 'But do you mean that, or are you just saying it to shut me up?' The shock that the harsh words caused must have shown on Gibbs' face because in the next moment Tony was leaning towards him, hands outstretched in a gesture of apology. 'Shit, Boss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...'

'Yeah, you did.' He kept his tone even, his gaze steady. Part of him knew he should be angry but how many times in the past had he given Tony the brush-off? Small wonder he had come to expect it. 'Guess I deserved it this time.'

A door opened and a waiter approached, carrying their order. Gibbs moved to pull out his wallet but Tony waved it aside and said something to the waiter in Italian, to which the man nodded.

'What was that about?' Gibbs asked as they walked back to the car.

'Not what you think.' Tony countered lightly. 'I eat there at least once a week, sometimes more. Mama lets me run up a tab and pay at the end of the month. She knows I'm good for it.'

'I'm sure she does.' He unlocked the door and settled behind the wheel. 'Looked to me like she was getting ready to adopt you.'

Tony eased himself into the passenger seat and set the bag of food on the floor, between his feet. 'After what I went through with my own family, I sometimes wish she would.'

There was nothing he could say to that. The few things Tony had let slip over the years, allied to the information Gibbs had gathered as part of his own background check before Tony joined NCIS pointed to a difficult, loveless childhood and it came as no surprise that someone as outgoing and loving as Anthony DiNozzo would be open to such a suggestion.

The drive from the restaurant to Tony's apartment took less than five minutes and they made it in silence. Gibbs was running on autopilot after the comments Tony had made, lost in thoughts of the young man at his side. Never had the need to admit his feelings been greater, yet never had he been more afraid of the consequences. Imagining telling Tony how much he loved him had always been easy because until that moment he was certain it was never going to happen. Now? He shook his head. That one look from Tony, the need Gibbs had seen in his eyes, had turned everything upside-down. Now there was a very real possibility that his feelings were reciprocated and suddenly he was out of his depth, unsure how he should respond – or even if he should.

He was still racking up the numerous possibilities when he realised they had reached their destination. His habit, on those few occasions when he had visited Tony at home, was to park in one of the bays in front of the house but tonight, without thinking, he hung a left and slipped the sedan into one of the visitor bays in the basement parking area. It was something he only ever did on those rare nights when he needed to stay over – like the time Tony had a concussion and Gibbs had volunteered himself for night watch. He was no fool, he knew the significance of his actions and could tell by the hastily shielded smirk that Tony knew it too, but it was too late to change things now.

As he watched Tony exit the car, then reach back in to collect the food, Gibbs knew one thing was certain: nothing about this evening was going to be straightforward.