Hey everyone, here's my obligatory Tony kidfic. I know I just did a Tony and Gibbs meet story, but this one has been bouncing around in my head for a while now, and I finally had the time to sit and write it so I thought I might as well. There's no time like the present.
Please tell me what you think!
~Renee

Gibbs sighed, his breath leading the way down the empty street, as he gazed up at the sky. It had been years since he had been in his hometown of Stillwater, but he could still imagine the way stars reached across the heavens, filling every inch of the ink black sky and the song of the crickets in his backyard. It was a bit different in Washington, here the stars were more likely to be a helicopters and the crickets were replaced with sirens.

He quickened his pace, both to warm himself up on the chilly October night and to burn the restless energy bursting through him. The case of the murdered marine on leave had hit a stand still earlier that afternoon, and it was driving him nuts. He told his team go over the evidence again, double check, then triple check. McGee, knowing that Gibbs expected them to start from scratch and look at everything from a new angle, had sighed but Kate only rolled her eyes and pushed the younger man towards the pile of files.

Gibbs smiled thinking about his team. They weren't exactly the most impressive set of people, but when push came to shove, they knew how to get things done. He knew the two would go over the evidence with a fine tooth comb, they were good agents and if something was missing, they would find it.

He glanced down at his watch and rubbed the back of his neck.

One in the morning.

Hopefully his agents turned in a couple hours ago and were getting some rest because it was obvious he wasn't getting any.

After tossing and turning for over a hour, he finally decided to go for walk, try to settle his mind and gut. Sure walking around D.C. after midnight wasn't the safest of plans, but anyone who would try to bother him would have their hands full.

He spotted a park out of the corner of his eye and began to wander in that direction, going over the case again in his head.

A Marine, Terry Henderson had been found in his hotel room, three rounds to the chest. It looked like someone had walked in the room and then simply shot him with a small caliber bullet. The gun must have had a silencer, because no one in the adjourning rooms had heard a thing. The hotel's security cameras had been under repair during the murder so there was no eyes on who was even on the floor at that time, though there was sign that someone had entered the adjourning rooms several times during the course of Henderson's demise. No gun, fingerprints, or DNA had been recovered. No apparent motive. Henderson had been stateside for nearly six months and wasn't supposed to be deployed for a while longer. No enemies, no problems with family or friends. Not married, no side employment, no evidence of criminal activity. Everyone in the side rooms had alibis and witnesses, one was a conference call to Japan the entire time, and other room was busy enjoying their honeymoon and had been in and out all day, and not a one of them had a single reason to kill the Marine. It looked like someone had basically walked in, shot the man, and walked out, leaving no evidence and no idea where they should turn.

Gibbs muttered under his breath and pushed his hands through his hair, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky.

Okay, clear your head. Start from scratch. Think-

"Peter Da-da-Davison. He was always my mom's fa-fa-favorite. I like David Te-Te-Tennant best. You would like them b-b-both Jim, Peter had a piece of celery pinned to his jacket and David was funny, but s-sad."

Gibbs jerked his head up and began looking around himself. His eyes widened at the sight sitting less than six feet from him, illuminated by the lights shining on the sidewalk trailing around the park's pond.

A boy, he didn't look more than six or seven was sitting at the neatly trimmed edge of the pond, breaking off pieces of a heal of bread and tossing it in the water to a duck that was so close the child could reach out and touch him if he wanted. The dark trees were only a couple yards off and if he wasn't a seasoned NCIS agent, Gibbs would almost be creeped out by the sight. He froze and looked around, trying to see if there was anyone with the boy, before turning his attention back to kid who still hadn't noticed his presence. The boy was completely alone and seemed oblivious to the fact that it was barely forty degrees out and past midnight as he sat talking to a...duck.

"I also think you w-w-wwould like David because he's a lot like m-m-me. Or I guess I'm a lot l-l-ike-"

The boy suddenly stopped talking and his hands stilled. The duck, unbelievably to Gibbs, made a noise of indignation and swam a little bit closer to the boy.

Gibbs didn't move as he felt the child's eyes on him.

The boy dropped the bread and gripped the dying grass, as if trying to anchor himself to the ground, but other than that showed no reaction to Gibbs' presence.

The two regarded each other in silence for a long moment.

Gibbs, now unwilling to leave the boy alone in the dark, did the only thing he could think to do.

He sat.

The light shining on the boys face revealed it just enough to show the surprise at his action. Gibbs didn't say anything, simply turned his head to the water, watching the duck who was now showing a bit more caution now that there was another person with the food.

Gibbs spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and level, not wanting to scare the boy.

"I think he's still hungry."

Gibbs watched the boy carefully from the corner of his eye while the child cautiously picked up the bread and began tearing off pieces. He could see the hesitation in his face, indecision.

The boy regarded him warily before stretching out an arm, a piece of bread trapped in his fingers, offering it to Gibbs.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow but slowly moved to take crumbs.

"Thank you."

"You're w-w-welcome s-sir."

The response was whispered, but it was something.

Gibbs tossed the bread out the duck, who swam close to get it, before circling back towards the boy.

"He really seems to like you."

The boy turned his attention to bird and spoke so quietly Gibbs had to strain to hear him.

"His n-n-name is Jim, sir. He knows me b-b-because I come and feed him all the t-t-time and talk to him."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Jim?"

The boy whispered 'yes sir' and kept crumbling bread into the water, offering Gibbs more. Gibbs grumbled internally at the repeated use of sir, but decided to let it go in light of other more pressing issues.

"Thank you. You talk to him, huh? He make good conversation?"

The boy shrugged then winced.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes when he saw a flicker of pain cross the child's face.

"He's n-n-never complained sir. I c-c-came with a sore th-throat once and couldn't t-talk and he qu-qu-quacked at me for fifteen minutes. I think he m-m-misses it when I don't talk."

Speaking of talking, Gibbs noticed a slight accent to the boys whispered stuttering words. He was still speaking quietly enough that he couldn't place it, but it was definitely there.

"Hmm… I didn't think ducks were that friendly."

The ghost of a smile drifted across the boy's face.

"They aren't s-s-sir. The others h-hate me. Won't even eat the b-bread. Jim's the only one who will c-c-come this cl-cl-close, sir."

"I see." Gibbs said. But he didn't see. Actually he was pretty well confused. A little boy who was continuously calling him sir sitting in the park at one in the morning feeding a friendly duck named Jim who liked to hear him talk.

Right.

The two sat in silence, the only sounds were the gentle lapping of the water and the duck chasing the bread the two tossed.

After a few more minutes of this Gibbs spoke again.

"My name's Gibbs, you know. You don't have to keep calling me sir."

The boy ducked his head and looked over at him quietly for a few seconds, the name hanging in the silence.

He turned his eyes back to the water before whispering.

"Tony."

Gibbs nodded.

"It's nice to meet you Tony."

"It's n-n-nice to meet you to M-M-Mr. Gibbs."

"Just Gibbs."

The boy looked at him with out right curiosity this time.

"Okay...j-just Gibbs then."

Gibbs could feel the discomfort coming off the boy, Tony, in waves.

"So, Tony, can I ask you a question?"

"You j-just did." Tony grinned for half a moment before a brief look of horror passed over his face. His head ducked down and he suddenly became very interesting the brown grass at his feet.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I d-didn't mean to be, to be, disrespectful. P-p-please ask your q-question."

Gibbs blinked at the boy who was all but trying to fold in on himself.

"It's fine Tony. No harm done, it was just a joke. Are you alright?"

Tony nodded.

"I'm f-fine sir. W-was that your question?"

The boy looked up at Gibbs with confusion obvious in his eyes.

Gibbs smiled gently at the boy.

"No Tony, that wasn't my question. My question was, what are you doing here? It's really late, aren't your parents wondering where you are?"

Gibbs' sharp eyes didn't miss Tony's wince at 'parents'. It was very clear he didn't want to answer the question, but he responded anyway.

"I like it h-h-here. It's quiet."

"Tony it's one in the morning, of course it's quiet."

The boy dipped his head and Gibbs could see a glint of black humor in his eyes.

"N-not everywhere.Y-y-you'd be surprised."

The whispered reply sent alarms off in Gibbs' head. He thought back to Tony's reaction to his question about parents and decided to see if he could shed some light on it.

"Your parents?"

"F-F-Father is...sick. He won't n-n-notice."

The way his shoulders stiffened and his eyes darted back to the water revealed the lie plain as day. Gibbs nodded but let it slide. He looked closer at the boy and saw he was shivering. Moving without thought, Gibbs slipped out of his coat and offered it to boy. Tony flinched away at the sudden movement, before registering the offer of the coat. He looked at the man in confusion, the question clear in his eyes.

"It's awful cold out Tony, it would make me feel better if you were bundled up. Where's your coat?"

Tony winced at the question.

"It's...l-l-lost."

Either this kid was a horrible liar or he just hated having to lie. Either way, Gibbs could see the coat wasn't lost, but Tony didn't want to talk about it.

"Tony, please take the coat."

With a shaky hand, Tony reached out and took the jacket, slipping into the thick warmth radiating off of it, feeling himself being swallowed by the dark wool.

"T-thank you."

"You're welcome."

He took a shuddering breath and drew in the scent of the man the coat belonged to. It smelled like...sawdust and Old Spice. Tony closed his eyes at the smell.

"G-Gibbs?"

Startled at Tony initiating conversation for the first time, Gibbs looked down at the boy.

"Yeah Tony?"

"L-like you s-s-said it's one in the m-m-morning. What are you d-doing here? No one is ever here this l-l-late."

Gibbs raised his brow at the implication that Tony came here this late often, but answered anyway.

"Couldn't sleep, went for a walk and ended up here."

Tony nodded.

"How often do you come here this late Tony?"

He shrugged.

"A f-f-few times a w-w-week. It de-de-depends."

"On what?"

"If I c-c-can get out my w-w-window."

Tony blinked when he spoke, as if he wasn't sure the words came from him.

"What would stop you?"

Tony swallowed and looked back at the water.

"I th-think I n-n-need to go Mr. Gibbs. It's g-g-getting l-late."

"It was late a long time ago Tony."

Tony didn't say anything, only pulled himself to his feet. Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he noticed the tight lines of pain around the boys eyes and mouth. He gasped as weight was put on his left leg and faltered, about to fall. Gibbs lurched to his feet and reached out, ready to help him regain his balance. What he didn't expect was Tony to flinch away, his hands raising slightly as if to ward off attack. Gibbs froze and Tony found his balance in the same instance, the two facing each other in a moment shocked silence.

"Are you alright?"

"F-fine sir."

The words were out of his mouth almost before Gibbs finished his question.

The man and boy regarded each other for a moment, before Tony moved first, taking a half step back.

"It was r-r-really nice to m-meet you Gibbs. I liked t-t-talking to you. Th-thank you for being so n-n-nice to me."

Gibbs blinked in shock but before he could reply the boy was gone, fading into darkness of the trees.

"Tony?"

Gibbs stepped into the trees but saw nothing. He rubbed the back of his neck and cursed.

The boy was gone.

With his coat.

XxxX

Tony slipped through the trees like a shadow, moving faster than he should. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as his abused muscles complained against the harsh treatment. Cutting through the trees and crossing the small stream dropped him off at the edge of his father's estate. Going the normal way, through the manicured streets, the park was about two miles away, but cutting through the wood, Tony could make it in about half a mile.

He sighed he saw the mansion rising up in front of him, framed by dead flower gardens and perfectly trimmed trees. He sprinted to the tree growing next to his window, his arm wrapped tightly around his aching ribs. Grabbing the lowest branch, he hauled himself up, climbing up the tree nimbly and easily until he reached his window. Peaking his face in, he noted the room was clear before grabbing the sill and dragging himself over it, dropping to the floor.

Gasping in pain and desperate for air Tony lay on the floor, his eyes closed, dizzy from the exertion. When the room had stopped spinning, Tony stood and stumbled into the bathroom adjourning his room. Wincing at the light, he pulled up his shirt to study the damage and wasn't surprised to see his torso was still heavily bruised. Sighing he dropped the shirt and shook his head.

It had been two days and it didn't look any better.

But really, running through the woods in the middle of night in the freezing cold wasn't exactly pertinent to healing.

Tony muttered to himself and headed back to the bedroom. Sitting on his bed, he started to rub his knee that was still swollen, and used the other hand to scratch his shoulder. He was surprised when his hand met soft wool. Looking down at himself he saw that he was still wearing the nice man's coat.

Gibbs.

Gibbs' coat.

Tony smiled softly thinking of the man. He had been nice. Friendly. Talked to him about Jim and had honestly seemed worried about him being out that late. That was such a weird feeling, someone worrying about him. He hadn't had that since...since his mom died, and even then it had been far and few between. Tony slipped the coat off carefully, and checked the inside, looking to see if there was an address. Before she was fired, his nanny used to sew a tag with his name and address in his coat. Seeing nothing indicating where he could find the man to return the coat, Tony gently folded it and held it to his chest, breathing in the scent of Old Spice and sawdust again. He hadn't known the man long, and would probably never see him again, but it was already a comforting smell. It made him feel...safe. He hardly ever felt safe.

Sighing to himself Tony stood and carried the jacket to head of his bed, keeping a watchful eye on his canopy, just in case. He brushed his hand across the coat's collar and slipped it carefully into his pillowcase. He knew it was silly, and childish, but he wanted to keep the nice man close.

Keep the feeling of being safe close.

For just a little bit longer.

Ditching his clothes in the closet he pulled on some pajamas and crawled gratefully into bed.

Closing his eyes he gripped the pillow stuffed with Gibbs' jacket and snuggled further into it. Letting out a quiet sigh, he could feel himself drifting off…

Only to be startled back awake when his bedroom door flew back open and an angry drunken shout sent him scrambling to his feet.

"Anthony!"

Tony looked up in fear at his father, who stood at his door, his lipstick on his collar and his hair a mess. The man held a jar of brandy in one hand and a leather belt in the other.

"Y-y-yes s-s-sir?"

Tony could feel the anger coming off his father even from his post near the bed.

"Shut up! Get your worthless *ss over here."

Tony swallowed hard and took a step towards his father.

"Fa-father I'm s-s-sorry."

He didn't know what he had done now, or why his father was even here, but he did know this much, when his father was mad- Apologize.

For anything.

Everything.

For being born.

It didn't matter. Just apologize.

"I a-am so so-so-so-sorry fa-fa-father."

"I said, Shut up! If you can't speak like a man, then you aren't going to speak at all!"

Tony saw the hand coming at his face with the jar of Brandy still firmly gripped in place, and his last thought was to curse his sense of timing.

Ten more minutes at the park and his dad would have found his room empty and stumbled on to bed.

Tony braced himself as the hand came at him and then the world went black.

XxxX

"What do you have Duck?"

"Ah Jethro, there you are, I was wondering where you had wandered off to. Oh my-Jethro, did even go to bed last night."

Gibbs glared at the older man.

"Do you have something for me Duck?"

"No need to be snippy Jethro. Actually I do have something. I found in my autopsy that Henderson had engaged in intercourse approximately three to four hours before his untimely demise. Abigail is running DNA now."

"We talked to all his friends, no one said anything about a girlfriend."

"I don't know what to tell you Jethro, but he was most decidedly active before his death."

"Hmm... thanks Duck."

Gibbs pulled out his cell phone shut and rubbed his chin. He called McGee and Kate and let them know about the girlfriend lead but it was easy to tell he was distracted. And he was, his thoughts were consumed with the going ons on the previous night. All he could think about was the kid and what reason he would have to be hiding in park in the middle of night to 'go where it's quiet'. Every logical thing he came up with made him sick. He wished he could have at least gotten the boys last name, anything. All he had was the name Tony, and it wasn't as if he could just start knocking on doors asking if people had seen him. He had no idea where the boy belonged.

"Jethro? Are you quite alright?"

"What?"

Ducky sighed.

"I said, are you alright? You seem...distracted."

"I'm fine Duck, just want to get this solved."

With that he left autopsy and headed to Abby.

He could hear the music before he saw the lab.

"Gibbs!"

He handed her the Caff-Pow and allowed her to lead him to the computers.

"Watcha got Abs?"

"DNA match."

"That was fast."

"What can I say Gibbs, when I'm good, I'm good."

Gibbs returned her smile and pulled her focus back.

"Abby, DNA?"

"Right, the DNA belongs to one Veronica Williams."

"Veronica Williams. Right, thanks Abby."

"Wait wait wait! Gibbs I'm not done!"

"What?"

"Up until a week ago, her name was Veronica DiNozzo, the divorce from one Anthony DiNozzo was just finalized last week. Reason for the divorce? He caught her cheating."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"Well, looks like we just got our first suspects."