Crowded Conditions

"Dad, you are not even listening to me!" Tony, leaning against the doorway to his father's bedroom, scowled as he crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted his body language to reflect his unhappiness and displeasure.

It did, and his father did not fail to notice.

Jethro Gibbs, in the process of tucking in his shirt as he finished dressing, stopped abruptly to regard his child.

He raised his eyebrows and replied warningly, "That sounds dangerously close to disrespect to me. Watch your tone of voice."

Throwing his head back dramatically, Tony countered with an attempt to have his dad appreciate his displeasure, "Ok, I'll watch my tone, but you aren't even paying attention to me! Listen, Dad, please."

There was no reply, and Tony watched in irritation as Jethro laced up his boots, then quickly combed his hair before flicking off the room's light and heading for the stairs.

Resigned, Tony followed, his feeling of injustice increasing with each step to the house's lower level.

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs glanced at the clock, then quickly started making their breakfast.

Tony stayed silent, setting the table before he went to locate his school bookbag and station it by the front door. The schoolbus would make it to the residence within the half hour, so there was not much time left to converse.

Once his dad had actually plated their food and the two had begun to eat, Tony reignited the conversation, determined to sway his father's decision that he stay with friends and family while his dad left for an NCIS assignment in Asia.

"Listen, please, ok?" Tony reached across and tapped his father on the arm.

"I have been listening," Gibbs replied, loading his fork with scrambled eggs while he glanced at the headlines of the morning paper.

Tony scowled and swallowed a gulp of milk. "You will be gone two weeks, and I am fifteen now. I am old enough to not have babysitters anymore. Dad, remember that I am in high school now, and am mature. You don't need for me to stay with the Mallards or for Grandpa to come from Stillwater. There is absolutely no reason why I can't stay home alone. You can call and check on me, and I can check in with them instead. Also, you know Abuela always checks on me regularly, so that's another reason to not have to concern yourself with me."

Gibbs regarded him above his glasses.

Tony flashed him a beautiful smile, confident that he could change his father's mind.

Jethro sat back in his chair and took a swallow of coffee, then shook his head slowly from side to side. He steeled himself to resist his son's blatant charm and begging and responded firmly.

"Anthony, my answer is no. It is no now, and it will be no later. You are not mature enough to be left to your own devices for that period of time."

"What? Are you kidding? What are you talking about? I am too mature. Look at me- I'm almost all grown!" Tony leaned across and frowned. "Dad, I am mature. Look, you measured me the other day and we are the same height now, and I'm still growing. Plus, in a couple of years I will leave for college, where you will not be around to watch over me. You've got to let me have some practice runs before you push me out on my own."

Gibbs regarded him skeptically, then licked his lips before he answered reasonably. "Son, if you were mature enough for me to treat as an adult, I would not have had to spank you just a few weeks back, now would I? However, I did, so no, you are not ready to be on your own by a long shot."

The fact that his father's observation was correct angered Tony and he threw himself against the back of the chair and sucked in his breath in annoyance. That particular incident had occurred when they were in Mexico and Jethro had discovered Tony and his buddy Miguel had sneaked off to a nightclub. Recalling the consequence made him cringe, remembering both the physical pain of the punishment and the embarrassment of his dad delivering the punishment to his naked bottom.

Yes, his father had spanked him, and he could not deny the fact. He couldn't think of anything to say to refute the observation, so sat and pouted instead. He would simply start back with his argument that evening, and eventually would wear down his father's resolve.

Gibbs stood up and stretched, then began clearing the table. "Hurry up and get the dishes loaded. It is late, and you need to get your teeth brushed and you out to the bus stop."

Tony rose with as much displeasure as he could display, determined to saturate his dad with his unhappiness. His chair clattered at the force of his jumping to his feet and he made his tone of voice drip sarcasm. "I know to brush my teeth, Dad, and what I have to do to get to school. I'm not stupid."

That observation appeared to backfire on him.

His dad turned around immediately and ordered him sharply, "Come here to me at once!"

Realizing his error and knowing better than to disobey his dad, Tony hurriedly positioned himself in front of his father. "Yes sir?"

Jethro took a deep breath, then tilted his son's chin and spoke softly, "If you don't want your butt spanked, make sure that any traces of attitude are gone before I get home from work this evening, and that your displeasure does not transfer to school today. Am I clear?"

Tony nodded affirmatively and stepped back, though he once again pushed his lip into a pout.

Jethro directed sharply, "Verbal answer, Anthony-"

"I got it, Daddy," Tony responded, his voice carefully devoid of attitude.

"Good," Gibbs kissed the top of his child's head and pointed Tony towards the stairs.

In ten minutes the two left the house together.

Special Agent Gibbs spent his lunch time a few hours later sitting on a park bench, staring into the brilliance of a Washington afternoon, his thoughts centered upon his son.

No matter what the boy thought, he did sympathize with Tony, and remembered how he himself had felt at fifteen, wanting to be viewed as an adult, rather than as a child.

However, Tony was not his father. Though they did share some familial traits, his son proved happy go lucky- a charismatic personality who approached life as he would a dessert table. Maturity wise, he had gained a bit more responsibility in the past year, but certainly had a track record that proved him impetuous, rather than cautious.

Consequently, when the NCIS Director had informed Gibbs that he would need to make arrangements to leave the country for an assignment in Russia that would span a couple of weeks, Jethro had lined up sitters at once. Though Ducky and Mrs. Mallard lived nearby, he felt reluctant to have them care for Tony the entire time. Both were closer to elderly now, rather than to middle age.

Tony, on the opposite extreme, functioned as a ball of energy.

Despite Jethro's good intentions, the Mallards took offense that their young Anthony would not stay ensconced in the bedroom he had claimed at their residence since babyhood. He had slept there numerous nights, and they considered him their personal charge.

Meanwhile Jackson Gibbs, Tony's paternal grandfather, announced he would immediately close the store he ran in Pennsylvania for the duration and would travel to Washington for the extended stay. He practically reveled in the opportunity to spend two weeks with his only grandchild.

Gibbs rubbed the bridge of his nose and regarded a scattering of pigeons creeping towards him, confidently prepared to beg for sandwich crumbs. He complied and scattered the remains of his meal, then smiled as they cooed and pranced while they ate.

Life had been so much easier when Tony's abuela lived in D.C. Then there was no question or confusion over his son's care, and Tony accepted without a second thought that his grandmother would keep him. Now, however, she lived permanently in Mexico, having moved there year round once her baby began high school.

Tony spent vacations and summers with her.

He accepted her directives as he did his dad's. The two of them wielded the greatest influence with the teen.

Gibbs had spent nearly an hour on the phone a couple of nights before dissuading her from coming to D. C. to supervise her baby. Reluctantly she agreed to let others have an opportunity, but not before she insisted that she speak to her bambino each and every night of the time in question.

Gibbs watched as a dog bounded towards him, scattering the pigeons. Deep in thought, he tapped his cardboard coffee cup with his finger.

Tony wanted the chance to stay home alone, all by himself while his father went on assignment. Gibbs had dismissed the request out of hand. Had that really been a fair response, though? How would Tony get to practice maturity without opportunities to do so? He had tried to make a point that very morning, and his father had ignored him.

Now, however, he admitted to himself that Tony had shown a bit of maturity as of late. The past weeks he had completed chores without reminders, stayed out of trouble, and brought home acceptable marks from school.

Truthfully, though, he did not trust him enough to leave him overnight, much less several overnights in a row. Tony operated as a free spirit, living in the moment.

Jethro stood up, then stretched and gathered his trash. Tony would just have to handle his disappointment.

Nevertheless, he pulled out his cell and rang his father, rocking in place as he dialed.

Jackson Gibbs answered on the third ring.

"Well, this is a surprise, Son. You usually don't call me more than once a week, but I just spoke to you Saturday."

Gibbs felt a twinge of guilt stab him. He knew he should call and visit more often than he did.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and began walking back towards NCIS headquarters, his stride sure and purposeful.

"Sorry, Dad, you're right. I should be a better correspondent, or better communicator."

Jackson chuckled and spoke soberly. "I did not mean to reprimand you. I meant to let you know that I enjoy talking to you, Leroy."

"I feel the same." Gibbs watched as a young mother wheeled a stroller across the park's lush green grass.

Jack prodded, "What do you have on your mind, Son?"

"Dad, Tony wants desperately to stay home alone while I go overseas, to prove his maturity. Of course, having him unsupervised for even an afternoon terrifies me. He savors the moment much too much to trust him on his own devices for any period of time."

Gibbs paused and Jackson, hundreds of miles away, knew exactly the expression which would be on his son's face.

Never one to add words when a few would suffice, he concluded his point. "So, Tony thinks I just refuse to let him grow up." Gibbs rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

Jackson cleared his throat. "What do you think, Son?"

The agent slowed his pace so that he could finish the conversation before he made it back to the NCIS building.

"I think that I just blistered his bottom not that long ago, and that by no stretch of the imagination do I consider him adult enough to leave for any length of time."

Jackson pondered his response. "Yet you question your decision."

Jethro paused reflectively and kicked at a loose piece of concrete on the sidewalk in front of NCIS.

"That's the gist of it, Dad," he admitted. "Would you have let me stay home alone if the same circumstance had appeared?"

On the other end of the line, the senior Gibbs shook his head in exasperation. "Leroy, it is not fair to compare Tony to you, and I know you realize that. Your maturity at his age doesn't really matter here. What matters is what you really know in your heart."

"You mean, in my gut?"

"So to speak. Why don't you turn this opportunity around to your advantage?" Jackson spoke in that tone of voice that always suggested his son should discern exactly what he meant.

"Ok, help me here. I can't read your mind, Dad, about where any of this screams opportunity. What should I strategize?"

"You want him behaving while you're gone, and you also want him supervised. At the same time, compounding that is the honest fact that you know it is time you started allowing him little freedoms."

The agent stopped walking. "I'm listening." Gibbs waved at a co worker making his way through the agency's front doors.

"Well, I'm finished. You figure out the answer by yourself."

"Dad, I hate it when you do that to me!" Gibbs rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Call me when you know the definite date you need me to arrive. I've got to go now, Son. Bye." Jethro heard Jackson click down the receiver.

"Well, bye then, I guess," Gibbs muttered, snapping the phone shut.