"He was never good at chess."

"Excuse me?"

Two days after the events at the hotel, Tony had gone down to Millie's café with Tali, hoping for a quiet afternoon snack but found that Philip Moss was paying another visit. He was sitting somewhat disconsolately gazing out to sea. Tony wrestled with his better self for a moment or two and then went down to sit with Philip, trying to take comfort in his having been supplied with a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream rather than a cup of valerian tea. Tony wondered what Millie would give him and it was then that Philip spoke. After Tony's query, Philip said,

"Preston, he was never good at chess."

"Oh," said Tony inadequately and then said, "Oh," this time in a slightly disappointed voice as Millie gave him a mug of tea and a graham cracker.

"Trust me," she said with a smile and a pat to the shoulder.

"Is that your daughter?" Philip asked Tony, he pointed to Tali who seemed to have a fit of the giggles.

"Yes, it is. Tali, say hello to Mr Moss."

Tali giggled even more as if this was the funniest thing he had ever said to her.

"Excuse me," said Tony to Philip as he bent down to look Tali in the face, "Now, Tali, don't be rude. It's not nice to laugh like that. You've been silly all day, so behave please." Tali's silliness had been one of the reasons Tony had abandoned a day's work to come down to the café.

Tali's eyes grew big – it was unusual for Tony to have to scold her, "Sorry, Dada," she whispered.

"That's OK, sweetheart. Now, say hello nicely."

"Hello," said Tali with unusual shyness.

"Hello," said Philip a little awkwardly.

"That's better," praised Tony, "Good girl."

Tali put her fingers over her mouth and was obviously longing to giggle again. Tony sighed but at that moment, Millie came out,

"Tali, why don't you come with me? I'll find you something to do."

Tony nodded gratefully and hoped that the something didn't involve anything with sugar as it seemed his daughter was already on a sugar rush of some sort. Tali took Millie's hand and walked with her into the café; as soon as they were through the door Tony heard a gale of giggles again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "She's not normally like that."

Philip waved away the apology.

"So," said Tony, "You were saying that your brother was never good at chess?"

"He learned the moves really quickly and could think up brilliant strategies …"

"But?"

Philip smiled, "But he never remembered that he was playing against opponents who could also think. He always thought they'd do exactly as he wanted and couldn't understand why they might avoid his traps and set ones for him!"

"And that's important, why? Did he want to be a chess grandmaster or something?" asked a puzzled Tony.

"No, but I think it's sort of a metaphor for his life. He always underestimated people. He underestimated you for one thing."

"Yeah?"

"When he had you surrender your gun and cell … well, I wondered if you might have another weapon as a backup but that didn't occur to him."

"And he underestimated you," suggested Tony.

"How so?"

"Well, he didn't notice that you didn't seem all that worried about being locked in that hidden space."

"To be fair, that's partly because I was in shock … but no, he didn't think that I might have a plan of my own. He was always competitive, wanted to be the best … sometimes I think he went into science because I liked it …"

"I sense another but."

"But … he was always in a hurry. Science takes application and patience. If you're doing research, you can't force the results, you mustn't be biased. Preston didn't really get that."

"The ends justify the means?"

"Something like that. You know, I am truly sorry for what he did to you …"

"Did you suspect that he was behind it?" asked Tony curiously, "Gibbs said you had suspicions."

Philip frowned, "I think suspicion is too strong a word. I guess I could imagine a scenario in which Preston might find it interesting to see if he could get a student to do it. He likes mind games … he likes feeling superior. I suppose I didn't want to examine those suspicions too closely."

"You paid for Jonnie Wilshaw to have a lawyer …"

"Yes. I wanted to make sure he was listened to, that everything was taken into account … but I hoped that it was just a case of my brother having been an overenthusiastic teacher. What will happen to Jonathan?"

Tony shook his head, "Not sure. Sure, it seems that he didn't actually create the means of infection, but he intended to, and he admits that he planted it at the hotel. In my book, he intended to do it – does the fact that he wasn't responsible for it working mean that he's not guilty at all?"

"No, you're right … he is guilty of something but surely the fact that he seems to have been manipulated into it must be some mitigation?"

"The District Attorney will make the decision," said Tony, "But I reckon Preston might get charged with something like misconduct in public office – he abused a position of trust by the way he treated Wilshaw."

Philip sighed, "I've asked for him to have a psychiatric evaluation."

"Your brother?"

"There must be something wrong with him to have made him behave like that …"

"Hmm," said Tony noncommittally as he took a sip of his tea.

"And I don't believe he would have ignited the kerosene …"

Tony took a bite of his cracker to avoid having to reply.

"I wonder what we did wrong …"

"Excuse me?"

"Preston never knew our father … perhaps he was spoiled …"

"You lost your father too," Tony pointed out.

"I guess. Preston was sort of a golden child – he had all the charm that I didn't! People wanted to please him … maybe that was the problem. Things fell into his lap."

"What was your uncle like?" asked Tony curiously, "You said you were close?"

"We were. We both loved the old barn and we used to explore it together, but I think, in other ways he was closer to Preston. And he could be impatient as well, wanted results …"

"Were you surprised to find out that he'd arranged the thefts?"

Philip frowned, "Yes … and no. Bit like finding out Preston was behind you being infected – it made sense once I was told. Uncle Phil was passionate about restoring the barn … guess he decided it didn't matter where he got the money from."

"What are you going to do now? Will the work go ahead on the barn and farmhouse?"

"The insurance company is thinking again about paying out now they knew it was someone connected to the hotel who was responsible for your illness. I'm hopeful they'll still pay something if I can make it clear I wasn't involved, and it looks as if the banks will go ahead with the loans."

"Yeah? You don't sound too sure."

"Oh, I'm reasonably sure but I won't be here."

"What? I thought you were excited about the work?"

"I was … I am … but I don't feel the same about the place after what happened there."

"You'll come to terms with it, it won't always feel like that."

"You're probably right but I'm going to Stanford, I'm going back to research and teaching. And I'll be near my Mom too."

"I thought you loved the barn?"

"Oh, I do but I love biochemistry more."

"Why did you leave in the first place then?"

"Preston was in a bad place after what happened at Princeton … and he was determined to come back home. And, of course, I understand the motivation now! But, at the time, I thought I should come back as well. And someone needed to take on the hotel and it wasn't going to be Preston's thing."

"And the woodcarving? That's a real interest?"

"Definitely, it's always been an interest. And it's a good distraction from my scientific research."

"What's going to happen to the hotel? You going to sell it?"

"No, we're going to hire a manager. Running a hotel isn't really my thing."

Tony nodded, impressed at how much Philip had done in the hope of supporting his brother.

"And what about the barn?"

Philip smiled, "Well, we hope that the city will take it on. We've offered it to them as a potential arts centre where local people can come and learn crafts and display their work."

"Does Preston have a say in that? You said that your Mom had handed the hotel over to both of you."

"She kept a one third interest and gave us each a one third stake. She and I agree about the future of the barn and we outvote Preston."

"I see. And you think the city will take it?"

"I hope so. And your Mr Gibbs seems interested as well. He said he was looking for a space to do some larger scale woodwork … and I think he'd be willing to teach some classes too."

"Huh."

"And I hope he'll still do some work on that fireplace. And repair some of the damage my brother caused."

Tony took another swallow of tea and came to a decision, "You know, I don't think you need to feel guilty about your brother. It wasn't your fault and lots of people go through hard times, but they don't end up turning to crime. Believe me, I spent a lot of my life bringing criminals to justice and I've learned that crooks aren't always – or even usually – mentally ill or disadvantaged. Sometimes people do things because that's the way they are … they're impatient or dissatisfied and they want what they can't have legally."

"Perhaps. But he's my brother and, whatever he's done, I can't abandon him."

"I figure he'll be in prison for a while," said Tony, "He's facing serious charges."

Philip managed a smile, "Perhaps he'll be one of those people that prison works for."

"Maybe. Just don't keep second guessing what you did. You have a life to lead as well, you know."

"Thank you. And once again, I'm sorry …"

"Hey, I got to spend a month in the Bay with my daughter. It wasn't all bad," said Tony dismissively if inaccurately.

Philip left soon afterwards, and his place was taken by a triumphant looking Tim.

"Guess what?" he said.

Tony was a little distracted by the sound of Tali still giggling inside the café, "Don't know … but you're turning into Abby."

"What?"

"The guessing games. She likes them too."

"Oh … but this is exciting. Go on, guess."

"It's been scientifically proven that picking sprinkles off donuts is good for your mental health?"

"I don't need it be scientifically proven. I already know it is."

"Huh, perhaps Philip Moss should have tried it on his brother."

"What?"

"Never mind, what's exciting, McQuiver?"

"Aren't you going to guess again?" asked Tim disappointedly.

"I don't know … Arthur came up trumps with the tile?"

"No … but I found some old water troughs at his place which would make great planters for the yard."

"Then why so jazzed?"

"I found a place online which will make a replacement tile to order. They might even be able to repair the chipped tile."

"And how much is this going to cost?"

"$100. Plus the cost of getting it in place."

"$100! For a tile!"

"Believe me, if it means I sleep at night, it'll be worth every cent!"

Tony shrugged. Somehow, he thought he'd pay that as well, "How's the case going? I'm surprised you've hung around so long."

Tim looked momentarily shifty, "When you are as tech savvy as me, you can leave your team without undue difficulty," he announced.

"Plus, Bishop is on vacation and your Probie is on a course at Quantico."

"Well …"

"And Wheels is still in Dubai …"

"You've been speaking to Abby!"

"Speaking in the loosest possible sense … I've managed to get an occasional word in edgeways … and while doing so, I have deduced that the squad room is empty of any MCRT members. And your house, complete with chipped tile bathroom, is also empty."

"OK, OK, so I hung around. But I've carried on working on that other cold case … which I reckon is going to stay in the chiller. And Colin and I have been working out how the Navy thefts pan out."

"The cases are solved but there's nobody to charge," said Tony firmly with his Raleigh PD hat on, "The assaults and imprisonments were on civilians. Nothing for NCIS to be interested in."

"Preston Moss perverted the course of justice," protested Tim, "He knew who carried out the robberies and didn't tell anyone. And he tried to take the proceeds for himself."

"Yeah, but I reckon our cases take priority. And don't forget he tried to kill me … and potentially infect a large number of Raleigh PD officers. No, admit it, McGrabbit – the case is ours."

Tim shrugged and didn't tell Tony that NCIS and the police department had already come to the same conclusion.

"What's going on?" asked Tony suddenly as he heard an even louder squeal of laughter from the café. He got up to investigate but was forestalled by Gibbs' arrival,

"Going somewhere, DiNozzo?"

"I was just going to see what Tali's up to. I don't know what's got into her today."

"My dear mother used to say that in windy weather I was always more apt to be skittish," announced Ducky as he made his own arrival.

"In that case, we must be due a hurricane," groused Tony, "She's been skittish all day."

"Relax, DiNozzo, Mrs Lacey will have it under control," said Gibbs waving him back to his seat.

"How's the shoulder, Gibbs? You've taken the sling off, I see," Tony added a little meanly with a look towards Ducky.

"It's fine," said Gibbs firmly.

"Jethro is allowed to remove the sling for an hour or so a day. He will be putting it back on later," said Ducky equally firmly.

"Philip Moss was here earlier. Said you were going to take up a place at the barn," said Tony abandoning the subject of the sling although he was looking forward to witnessing the upcoming battle.

In deference to his sore shoulder, Gibbs didn't give his customary shrug, "Thinking about it. Turns out I like teaching. 'Specially as all I need to do is demonstrate and they learn by watching and doing."

"Sounds about right," said Tim with a nod to Tony.

Tony's head turned towards the café again as he heard the sound of Tali jumping up and down.

"Tim," said Gibbs quickly, "I meant to ask you … about the house …"

Tony was distracted enough to abandon his investigation of the noise.

"The house?" quavered Tim.

"Yeah, you know. That thing with four walls and a roof."

"Oh … yes. Of course, I know what a house is. I just wondered what you wanted to say about it."

"You look worried, Tim? Everything all right?" asked Gibbs.

"Of course, what could be wrong?" gulped Tim.

"Nothing … I hope," said Gibbs grimly.

"Well …" said Tim.

"But I forgot to tell you … the bathroom …"

"We love the bathroom," said Tim earnestly.

A soft look dawned on Gibbs' face, "Shannon chose the tiles herself. I wasn't sure I liked them but … what's wrong?" Tim had emitted a groan – it was all worse, much worse than he had thought possible.

"Nothing, Boss … guess that wind is getting to me too."

"It's dead calm, Tim," said Gibbs.

"Oh, then maybe it was just talking about it? Or maybe I'm catching it from Tali."

Gibbs shook his head, it wasn't the first time he hadn't understood what made Tim tick, "Anyways, I wanted to tell you …"

"We'll take real good care of it," said Tim, wondering if they could use the kitchen sink for their ablutions in future and lock the bathroom door.

"I'm sure. No, I forgot to tell you … and it doesn't show on the inventory … but the day before I moved out, I dropped my coffee mug in the bathroom. Chipped one of the tiles."

Gibbs was accustomed to stunned silences when he made announcements, but he hadn't expected one this time.

"You chipped a tile? You chipped a tile?" demanded Tim eventually.

"Sure, it's not the end of the world," said Gibbs casually.

"It isn't?"

"Nope. And there's a box of leftover tiles in the basement somewhere. I know someone who does tiling, I'll get him to call you."

Tim sat stunned for about two seconds and then burst into a giggle much like those which had been afflicting Tali all day.

"Timothy? Are you quite well?" asked Ducky in concern, "I trust you have not been working too hard? Perhaps the sea air is over invigorating you? I have read cases where …"

"I'm fine, Ducky," Tim finally managed to say, "I'm fine. Better than I have been for a long time."

"Indeed, that is good news," said Ducky doubtfully, "But, with your permission – and indeed, without your permission – I will monitor your condition for the rest of the day.

Tim laughed again but there was less of an hysterical edge to it this time so Ducky's worries were ameliorated.

"Now?" came Tali's excited voice.

"Excuse me, guys," said Tony, "I really need to see what's going on.

"Sit down, Tony," said Gibbs, "You're about to find out."

At that moment, Tali emerged from the café carefully carrying a large cake with candles on it. She was closely followed by Mac, Millie and John Sutherland who were all keeping a watchful eye on her progress.

"I think I'll take it now," said Mac after Tali had managed a few steps, "It's very heavy and we don't want an accident, do we?" Tali frowned but her face cleared as Mac made haste to say, "And after you and Nana Lacey have spent so long frosting it … we don't want it spoiled, do we?" Tali nodded and allowed the cake to be removed from her grasp although she made sure to walk as close to Mac as possible.

"Happy birthday, Dada!" she shrieked when she was within a yard of her father.

Tony winced, he sometimes wondered if his hearing would survive Tali's childhood. "Thank you, Tali but … er … it's not my birthday."

"You were in hospital on your birthday," said Millie, "And Tali was disappointed you didn't have a party, so we promised we'd have one when you were better."

"And you better!" shouted Tali.

"Indoor voice," asked Tony.

"But we not indoors!" cried the logical Tali.

"Pretend we are," pleaded Tony, "We can all hear you. There's a lot of candles," said Tony a little gloomily, "I'm not that old, am I?"

"Tali wanted her birthday candles on the cake as well," explained John, "And Mac's. If that makes you feel better?"

Tony nodded gratefully.

"Blow them out!" said Tali, thankfully at a lower volume.

"You help me," said Tony who suspected that she would whether or not she was invited to.

The candles were duly blown out and Ducky refrained both from pointing out that it was an unhygienic process and from giving a potted history of candles on birthdays cakes. Millie took control of the cake cutting and soon everyone was paying slices of cake the reverence due any of Millie's creations. Tony suddenly realised why he'd only been given a cup of tea and a cracker; Millie had been leaving him room for one of her special meals.

"Presents!" said Tali as soon as she had finished her piece of cake.

It was a sign that Tali had grown up that she didn't insist on opening Tony's presents for him as she had on his previous birthday, but she watched with fascination as he opened the gifts from everyone.

"You knew!" he said accusingly to everyone sitting close to him.

This time, Gibbs did shrug … and then winced as he regretted the movement. Ducky's sharp gaze did not miss the gesture and Tony was pretty sure Gibbs would soon be wearing the hated sling again.

Tali was puzzled that none of her father's presents seemed to be toys but she was beginning to understand that grown-ups liked different things to her. She looked hopeful when Tony opened the gift from Tim and displayed a basketball.

"I looked up the guys you played with in the Final Four," he said, "Got them to sign it for you."

"Wow," gasped Tony, "That's great, Tim. Thank you. Tali, we don't play with this ball, understand?"

Tali nodded although this was yet another thing she didn't understand. As far as she was concerned, balls were for playing with.

"Thought you might like these," said John casually, as he passed a large flat package to Tony.

Tony opened it carefully and revealed a portfolio of sketches and watercolours of Tali, Tony and their little house.

"Sometimes, drawings are better than photographs," said John with a shrug worthy of Gibbs.

Tony looked at the drawings and couldn't help but agree; they were a wonderful record of Tali growing up. And, he also knew, that it was a valuable gift in material terms as John's work was highly sought after. "Thanks, John, they're great." Tali was more interested in the sketches than she was in Tony's other gifts and they leafed through them together.

"Thanks, everyone," said Tony, "For everything." He smiled as he looked around the table and realised that everything encompassed a huge amount of care and affection. "And you," he said turning to his daughter, "Was this why you were such a wriggly, giggly girl all day?"

Tali nodded, "It was a secret!"

"And you kept it very well," praised Tony, relieved that he didn't need to look up giggling daughters in his trusty Traumas, Triumphs and All Points Between – the Single Father's Guide to Bringing up Daughters byHugo Delacroix.

"Who's ready for sandwiches and more cake?" asked Millie.

The me was loud and unanimous. Tony smiled again, the troubles he sometimes experienced in Milsom Bay were more than outweighed by the good things which happened there …

AN: thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in this story. Milsom Bay belongs to me but the NCIS characters are returned to their creators with thanks.