As visits from Anthony DiNozzo, Senior went, Gibbs had to admit that this last one was pretty low-key, at least in the sense that the man had not been caught meddling in an investigation or found dead drunk by the LEO's with a corpse in his rental car's trunk.

In fact, to most who witnessed the 'reconciliation' between the DiNozzo father and son Christmas Eve, it would have seemed to end on a pretty high note for the two, with the schmaltz factor oozing up to the top of the scale.

Gibbs had watched the scene with skepticism, not knowing exactly what had happened between them, and deciding to withhold judgment until he had more intel on the situation. When they had broken up the party to head home for the night, Gibbs had kept an eye on his second, and seeing that caged animal look in the younger man's eyes, had pulled him off to the side of the room and informed him he had a last minute Christmas present he needed Tony's help with. His SFA seemed to sag with relief to have an excuse not to have to go back to his apartment with his father, and told the man he'd be back later but not to wait up for him. Senior had looked disappointed, but not broken up. Of all people, he knew there were plenty of ways to entertain yourself in D.C on Christmas Eve.

Back in Gibbs' basement, he had poured Tony a couple fingers of his 'good stuff', and Tony had readily accepted, his hand actually trembling a little as he took the glass from his boss. He didn't even bother denying it, or even making light of it, just chugged down the amber liquid and handed the jam jar back to Gibbs.

"Refill?" Gibbs queried.

"Nah, that's – actually, ya know what, that sounds good. Hit me again."

Gibbs wanted to indeed hit someone, but it wasn't his second or his bourbon holder.

"Won't be able to drive now, Tony." Gibbs warned as DiNozzo downed the smooth liquor.

"Yeah. Guess not." the younger man growled through the second helping, his throat husky with the burn of it. "Have ta call the old man an' – tell 'im he's gotta entertain himself."

"What happened tonight, DiNozzo? And give me the actual version, not the one you think I wanna hear."

"Ahh, well, I came home, ready to spend some quality time with the guy and I walked in on him and my neighbor."

"Jesus." Gibbs grated out between his teeth, his head turning away with the sheer disbelief of Tony's statement.

"You said you wanted the actual version of it, Boss."

"What'd ya do about it?"

"I screamed at 'im. Told 'im that was why I'd never let him know where I lived, that it was my sanctuary, and he'd just basically made it so I never wanna walk into my bedroom ever again."

"What'd he say?" Gibbs asked, pouring himself another helping of booze.

"Told me he 'was who he was, and he wasn't going to change."

Gibbs swallowed his second helping in one gulp, his jaw clenching shut for a few moments after.

"What'd ya say to that?"

"Told him get out. Shoulda seen the shocked look on his face."

"You don't actually feel guilty for telling him that, do ya, Tony?"

"No, Boss. Thought I would, but – had some time to think about it on the way back to the Yard."

"And what'd ya come up with, other than figuring you'd have to sleep here tonight instead of in your train wreck of a bed."

"I decided it sucked. What he said, sucked." Tony sighed, realizing the bourbon was getting to him big-time already, and that he would need to sit down, and soon, so he leaned back against the workbench.

"Ya know, that's such a freakin' cop out when people say that – I am what I am, I'm not gonna change.

I coulda said that when you met me, brought me back here. Coulda stayed just good enough for ya to keep me on yer team, but never improved myself, or learned anything from ya. Coulda kept you out, just made up my mind that you were my boss and not my friend or – coulda kept everybody here out, an' just done my mediocre best and left it at that. But I didn't. You know I didn't, no matter what anybody else thinks of my job performance."

"You were like a bat outta hell when you came here, thought Blackadder was gonna smother ya in yer sleep one night. Almost didn't have to in the end..."

"Always thought there was more to it than bad aim..." Tony smirked, but his mind didn't want to linger on that wretched case. "Anyways, I don't buy the 'can't change' schtick. Anybody can change if they want to, they've just got to have a good enough

reason to. Apparently I'm not a good enough reason for my father."

"DiNozzo.." Gibbs growled warningly.

"I'm just sayin' that – it doesn't matter who is in his life, Boss. He never changed for any of my step-moms, though some of them deserved worse from him. Not only that, he won't even adjust his thinking for me. I'm the one who's always had to adjust my thinking for him, that I was doing something wrong, and needed to stop or I wasn't a grateful son and needed to quit wanting too much...I can't do it anymore, Boss. I won't. My father is a one-way street, and I'm getting too old to keep trying to make him into even a two-way, much less a multi-lane highway.

"He's right, he never is going to change, cause he's too lazy and selfish to go to the bother. He wants to come visit me, that's fine, but he's not staying with me again, he stays at a hotel, and I'll meet him for dinner, or drinks, or whatever. But I won't have him back at my apartment. And I refuse to feel guilty any more for telling him like it is. He won't change, but I will, even if it's just to defend myself against him. If Abby and the rest of the team think I'm being unreasonable about it, they can invite him to stay with them while he's here. Might even cure them of their infatuation with him."

"Doubt that. He'll be on his best behavior for them, just like he is when he's at the Navy Yard."

Tony handed his emptied jam jar to his boss, who gave him a raised eyebrow in return.

"Don't wann any more, Boss, had plen'y." he slurred. "Need ta sit now. Watcha work. On whatever yer workin' on. That you wanted my help with. 'Cept I don't think you should have me helpin' ya now."

Gibbs gave his SFA a crooked smile and half-led, half pushed him over to a ratty arm chair he had dug out from the attic on his last foray there.

"Thanks, Boss. 'Preciate that. "

Gibbs patted Tony's arm, and looked down at him with concern.

"There's more ya need to say, isn't there, Tony?"

DiNozzo swallowed hard and looked at his fidgety hands.

"He talked about her."

"Her?" There was a pause while Gibbs thought, then it came to him. Her. Tony's mother. Great. No wonder the second helping of booze. "Oh. Her. What'd he say about her?" he asked half-heartedly, not really wanting to touch 'her' with a ten foot barge pole tonight.

"Said she was the love of his life, that it started going bad for him after she...you know...left."

'Left. That's how Tony described his mother dying, because he couldn't say the actual word 'died'.

Well, who was Gibbs to judge, he couldn't say it very easily about Shannon and Kelly, either. It had taken him years to even be able to look at their pictures, or say their names with out faltering over them.

"Which, I understand, but..not only does he use it for an excuse, he makes it all about him. That she was the love of his life, that he was the only one who...didn' wanna go on after she was gone, that couldn't understand how she could just – leave her eight year old son alone with him when she knew he hadn't been that interested in being a father to me before things got out of control...tha's what I hate most about his excuses. He thinks they're jus' fer him and that she wazzin' the love of my life, too..loved 'er a lot, Boss...sometimes she did things I didden understand, but...when she was – not – not in another ...when she wasn't – gone...she was the most loving mother you could ask for. Any sense of normalcy or safety I ever felt left with her. After that it was – like almos' drowning every day, barely keepin' my head above the surface...an' he went off an' jus' kept marryin' whatever rich bimbo crossed his path.

'Course he had an excuse fer that, too. I think 'm gonna go up ta bed, you mind, Boss?"

"Nope, thought I'd do the same thing, Tony. Besides, Santa won't come till yer asleep, remember?"

"Ha, yeah! Tha's right! Santa Clause is comin' ! Fergot! You leave me somethin' under the tree, Boss?"

"Won't know till ya get up in the morning, Tony." he admonished, guiding his SFA up the stairs to the kitchen. "You want anything to eat before ya head for bed?"

"Nahhh. Jus' pancakes and eggs in the mornin' like ya make when I drink a little too much."

"Okay, Tony. I can do that." he agreed amiably, pushing the younger man onto the stairs to the bedrooms. His second wasn't totally blitzed, he'd drank less than Gibbs, and was normally pretty good at holding his liquor, but Tony had virtually chuga-lugged the glasses his boss had poured for him, and done it on a stomach with nothing in it but some cider and popcorn. "Let's just git yer jammies on ya before ya fall into bed, we'll finish talkin' in the morning."

"Nah, finished now, Boss. Done talkin' 'bout 'im. He calls, tell 'im I got a better deal. Tell 'im a stinkin' signet ring doesn't make up fer 34 years of crap he dished out. I only wanted it cause it was my Grampa Silvio's. Liked my Grandpa Silvio. No bullshit with that man, jus' like you. He owned his own shit an' didn't need excuses."

"Must've skipped a generation then, Anthony. You could teach yer old man a thing or two about life. God knows you've taught me a few." Gibbs finished under his breath as he struggled to button Tony's pajama front before he collapsed sideways onto the bed. "Go ta sleep, I'll worry about yer father."

"Than's, Boss." He took a long, deep breath of his pillow and sighed. "Hung these out on the line, didden ya, Boss? Smell good. Like woodsmoke an'..."

Suddenly there was silence. Tony had finally wound down, run out of gas, needed his batteries recharged. He was always like that when he was at Gibbs' place. One minute he'd be babbling on, the next he would be snoring, like his plug had been suddenly yanked. Relaxation before sleep was still a foreign thing to DiNozzo. He was either working, talking or sleeping, sometimes two of them at a time. Gibbs had a feeling tonight would be one of the times when Tony would be talking in his sleep.

He pulled a blanket up over the sleeping man, and flicked off the lamp, leaving just the dim hallway light for illumination. It was all he needed, he knew how to get around the entire house in the black of night, and could get to his SFA in moments if he needed him. Nights like these Gibbs slept with one ear on the pillow and one on Tony's room. And nights like these, he wanted to go grab that worthless s.o.b. Senior and toss him into beltway traffic, but he knew Tony wouldn't thank him for it, even if he did appreciate the thought behind it. It was getting more and more difficult not to meddle in the fledgling relationship, but the way things were going, he wouldn't have to anyways, Senior would put paid to it himself by continuing to be such a purposely clueless jerk. Sometimes Gibbs felt like a world -class hypocrite, bashing Senior so readily for his incredible treatment of Tony, and then being a bastard to Tony himself. And sometimes he was right to feel that way, but Gibbs knew deep down that, unlike Senior, most of the time he had and still did make concerted efforts to be what his SFA needed, in a way that the damaged younger man could both accept and absorb without feeling patronized or smothered.

Tonight was one of those times. He would have Tony's six, even if it was to lie to the man's father about when he was coming back to his apartment, which would be as soon as Senior was no longer there.

Leave it to the idiot man to botch even something as special as Tony letting him into his inner sanctum, and by doing something so unforgivable as to make the normally unflappable DiNozzo finally lose his cool with the smug bastard. He felt badly things had turned out the way they had, but he was awfully proud of Tony for not taking his father's crap this time around. He'd have to make sure he told the kid in the morning, after Santa came.