"You're not nervous, are you?"<

I give him the same answer I gave him the last time he asked that question almost two hours ago as we were tossing our bags into the trunk of his car. "No, Tony, I'm not nervous."

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Liar."

I glare at his profile, not sure if I'm more pissed that he caught me lying, that he didn't even have to look at me to do it, or that he had the guts to call me on it. How the hell could I not be nervous? I'm meeting his family---not blood relatives but family in every way that matters. My future in-laws. Shit. I've done that song and dance four times already and I have never, ever been good at it.

And this time---this time they will not only pass judgment they will probably do it in a language I don't understand. How the hell am I supposed to be able to defend myself if I don't have any idea what they are saying or accusing me of? No, no reason to be nervous at all.

"Mike likes you," Tony offers quietly.

That's supposed to be reassuring, I know. But Mike is one guy. There are three other brothers, a spouse, a fiance and let's not forget Momma C. She's the one Mike said would be the hardest because Tony was her favorite. No one would measure up when it came to being good enough for her Tony. Shannon's mother was the same way. There wasn't a man alive she'd have thought was good enough for daughter. Pretty sure I'd have been the same way if Kelly had lived long enough to start dating.

"Jethro," Tony's voice is a little hesitant, and I give him my full attention because of it, only now realizing how my silence might seem to him. His fingers of his left hand restlessly flex around the steering wheel, "Are you sure you want to spend Thanksgiving with them? We don't have to."

No, we don't have to. But Tony wants to. A man would have to be a blind, deaf mute to have missed just how excited he is. I promised myself I wouldn't ruin his holiday. Promised him we'd spend it with the people who were most important to him. So, like a good Marine, I'm going to suck it up.

"Yes, Tony, I'm sure." I smile at him, and lightly squeeze the hand I've been holding almost from the time we got in the car. Probably how he knows I'm nervous about the whole thing.

Tony bites his lower lip. Clearly I wasn't as reassuring as I thought I was. "We could always call and--"

"And what? Tell them I got cold feet?" I arch an eyebrow, when he glances over at me, daring him to accuse me of being a coward. Mike already knew the entire team had vacation scheduled. It wasn't like we could claim to suddenly be busy. I wasn't going to make myself look worse by lying to people I hadn't even met yet.

Tony's lips twitch upward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Could always just elope. Tell them we are running off to Vegas to get married by Elvis."

I can't help chuckling at that. "Didn't Mike already do that?"

"Yeah." Tony laughs softly. "And what a huge mistake that was."

"Not going to put us in the same category, Tony."

That earned me a warm smile. I don't get that one as often as I'd like, so each time is something special.

"Are we going to be the last ones to arrive?" Not sure why it matters but I can't help thinking that if they have some sort of attack, divide and conquer thing planned, it would help to be prepared. Maybe have a plan of my own.

The sidelong look I get lets me know Tony knows what I'm thinking and why I asked. His smile brightens. He's not quite grinning--yet. My fingers itch to head smack him but that would mean letting go of his hand. I decide to let it slide for now.

"Sammy and Dan won't be down until tomorrow."

That would be Thanksgiving Day. I'd suggested we wait until then to head to the cabin ourselves, start out bright and early, but Tony casually vetoed the idea. He said leaving after work was normal for him, and he's always made the drive down a little short on sleep. Can't decide if that reassured or worried me, so I opted not to think about it.

I wish we'd have been able to get the entire week off, maybe get a few days just to ourselves, but it wasn't possible. We needed every damn minute to get things cleared off the desks and ready for the entire team to be out of commission for four days; seven in Ducky and Ziva's case. They got the extra days because: one, they are flying overseas, two, Ducky's got seniority and no one would think of denying the man, and three, Ziva's still in Jenny's good graces. Always pays to have friends in high places. Never quite figured out how to cultivate useful friends myself?at least not when it came to stuff like that.

"Gabe and Carol got in Monday."

"Where do they live?" I can't remember if he's ever told me that before or not.

"North Carolina." Tony gives me a quick smile. "But the job takes him into Virginia quite a bit so he's able to visit Mike and Momma C fairly regular."

"What does he do?"

"Gabe works for the state. He handles a lot of the water quality monitoring for the APNEP." Tony chuckles softly. "And yes, I had to ask him several times what that the hell that was."

"So what is it?" I didn't recognize the acronym. Working for the government you sometimes forget acronyms aren't real words, but actually stand for something.

"Albemarle-Pamlico National Estuary Program," Tony neatly translates. "It covers about 30,000 square miles and is the second largest watershed region in the country. Only the Chesapeake Bay watershed is bigger."

No mistaking the pride in his voice. Given how instrumental Tony was in Gabe's education, it's nice to know he's putting it to good use. I opened my mouth to ask what his fiance Carol, does for a living, but Tony beats me to it.

"Carol works for the National Park Service. Cape Hatteras." Tony shrugs one shoulder. "She's part of the preservation team. Never quite sure if that means she's trying to save the lighthouse or if she's part of the whole save the island crew."

I can't help raising both eyebrows. "Save the island?"

"Yeah, you know---the outer banks are always eroding and moving. So they are really strict about the whole ?stay on the path and don't trample the grass' thing." Tony glances over at me. "You've never been there?"

"No." I shake my head. "Most of the travel I've done was job related."

"We'll have to go sometime then."

Back when I was struggling to come up with a birthday present for him, I'd thought a trip to the beach would be a nice gift. Course, I was thinking something local, but the Outer Banks would make for a nice get away.

"Maybe this spring," I suggest. We probably won't be able to get much time off for Christmas. And it was never easy to predict how the new year would shape up. "By March we should be able to get a weekend free, take a few days off."

Tony grins broadly. "Sweet."

It takes so little to make him happy. Honestly. Don't think I've ever met anyone as easy to please.

Tony's grin fades a bit. "Zeke was supposed to get in last night but his flight got delayed."

Not uncommon this time of year. And I'm not sure it isn't an FAA requirement of some kind for every commercial flight to be fucked up regularly. "He's in California, right?"

"Yeah."

"What does he do?" Other than knowing he's gay, I really didn't have much information on him either.

"Works for an architectural firm." Tony sighs deeply. "He's not very happy there. Last e-mail I got from him he said he was polishing his resume."

I wonder if Zeke has moved as often as Tony had before settling in at NCIS, but I wasn't sure it would be okay to ask. Tony's short track with other police forces had been something of a sore spot for him. I could see him being defensive on his friend's behalf.

"Mike's been talking to him, helping him work through whatever the problem is, so he might stick with it. Finish out the year at least."

"Would he stay because Mike told him to?" I really didn't care so much about Zeke but I wanted to get a better sense of how much authority Mike had.

"Mike suggests things. He's not really into giving orders."

I have a feeling that's a matter of semantics. Although, Mike said he was trying to get Tony tell me about how he felt for awhile before we got together. So maybe he doesn't really have that much authority. But if Mike wanted me gone, I'm sure I wouldn't stand a snow ball's chance in hell. The rest of them might still want me gone. And I can't see the fact Mike likes me being much of a swaying point.

I am damn glad there isn't a mark on Tony from our last case. Mike was ready to clean my clock for accidentally hurting Tony the last time we were at the cabin. Been a long time since someone put me on the spot like that. Hell the man threatened to dismember me if I hurt Tony again. And Sammy is supposed to be the one good at threats. I have no trouble believing that. He was a SEAL. They know a thing or two about inflicting damage.

"Zeke is going to pick up Momma C on his way."

"She's not already there?" I was sure she would be. Had this image in my head of a grand matriarch holding court. Silly, I know, but it was there just the same.

Tony shakes his head. "Ever since Mike's place became the central meeting point they take turns picking her up. Gives each of them some time alone with her."

"Were you part of that tradition?"

He hesitates for a moment. Long enough for me to know he's debating whether or not to tell me the truth. I wait. I'll know if he's lying. And I'm curious as to why he would even think he should.

"Until I started at NCIS, yeah, I was part of that tradition."

Shit. I flinch. Can't help it. One more thing in his life I fucked up because I was a selfish, self-centered prick. I read his file, knew he was estranged from his family and never once thought he might have other people important to him. I wouldn't have cared if I had known. Back then the job was supposed to be all that mattered?because it was all I had.

"Knew I wouldn't get the holidays as a newbie, Boss," Tony says quietly. "Kind of standard practice. Low guy on the totem pole works the days no one else wants to."

"You haven't been a newbie in a long time, Tony." I'm not letting him exonerate me. After five years with NCIS, and more than three years as my senior field agent he should have been able to pick any holiday he wanted. And he probably would have if not for me. "I should have--"

"Coulda, woulda, shoulda." Tony gives me an exasperated look. "Sammy couldn't always be the one to pick up Momma C either, you know."

"Not because his boss was a selfish bastard."

"No, but what we do isn't any less important."

"Not so important you couldn't have time?"

"Stop. Right. There." Tony pulls his hand from mine, pointing a finger at me. "Name one time in the last sixteen years when the job didn't trump everything for you."

"This isn't about me!"

"You sure about that?" Tony gives me a hard look. "This stuff didn't bother you until we got together."

That isn't fair. It's not just because we are sleeping together. "I didn't even know about Mike and his family until a few months ago. And we got together at the same time."

Tony glares at me before focusing on the road again. "I could have said something. I choose not to."

"You choose not to because you knew I'd be an ass about it."

"Well, duh."

I am momentarily stymied by that sarcastic and decidedly honest answer. "Damn it, DiNozzo, I'm trying to admit I was wrong."

"No, you are feeling guilty. Not the same thing."

"How is that not the same?" I want to smack him. "No one feels guilt over doing the right thing."

"Killing Jeffery White was the right thing to do and I felt a hell of a lot of guilt about that one." Tony almost snarls when he says that.

Fuck. I'd forgotten about him having shot White. The guy was a cold-blooded killer intent on slicing Tony's throat, so it's not like I lost a lot of sleep over Tony shooting him. It never occurred to me Tony might have felt bad about it. I mean, I know he said he liked him, but White had already killed several people and was poised to do the same to Tony. Kill or be killed should have left him feeling vindicated, not guilty.

"That was self-defense." Can't hurt to remind him.

"So was your making me stay with you over the holidays." He looks at me, and I can't look away. "Tell me different."

I swallow hard. Technically?he's right. I used him to keep painful memories and loneliness at bay. I was protecting myself, but that doesn't make it right.

"I didn't even know what the hell I was doing." I hadn't. I was so far into denial I was in danger of drowning. Wasn't until later, when he left for a week, that I got a clue why I felt so compelled to make him stay close.

"I didn't get it then either, Jethro, but I do now." Tony gives me a tight smile. "And if I hadn't wanted to stay, I wouldn't have. You know my track record better than anyone. So don't be getting all bent out of shape over this."

Bent out of shape? I fist my hands. This is something I should be upset about for God's sake. I hurt him.

"Tony, it wasn't right?"

He slams on the brakes so fast the seat belt tightens painfully against my waist as it keeps me in the seat even as I reach to brace myself against the dashboard. I'm idly impressed by how he manages to control the skid enough to slide us off the road onto the gravel shoulder. My being impressed doesn't override my concern over how and why we've stopped. Tony loves this car. He wouldn't abuse it.

Tony slams the gearshift into first with more force than necessary and sets the emergency brake that the same time. He turns off the car before releasing his seatbelt, turning in his seat to face me squarely.

"Did you not hear a word I said?" He leans in close, eyes boring into mine, holding me still with just the force of his gaze. "You didn't take a goddamn thing I wasn't willing to give. You. Don't. Have. Anything. To. Feel. Sorry. Or. Guilty. About." He punctuates that last sentence with hard pokes to my chest.

I want to be pissed. I want to yell at him and tell him how I knowingly took advantage of his need for approval, I abused his trust, cost him more than I can repay, that I never even said thank you and deserve to get a head smack---but what I really, really want is to kiss him. I'm not sure which of us moved first. Doesn't matter. He's kissing me just as fiercely as I'm kissing him.

God---He tastes so good. Could live on his kiss. Devour him and not be satisfied.

It's not like I'm always the aggressor, but it's not often that he just takes complete control without asking. Tony's not asking now, and that doesn't bother me one bit. Can feel his long fingers fisted in my hair, so tight it almost hurts. He's got me pinned against the seat, holding me where he wants me. Not that I'm trying to get away. Hell no.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. He moans, but it doesn't sound quite right to me. I break the kiss, jerking away from him, wanting to know what's wrong.

"Gear shift," he pants, making it sound like a curse. He reaches around me and hit the lever that makes my seat recline. Not quite horizontal, but I'm pretty damn close.

Tony gives me a savage grin as he releases my seatbelt. Given his height, he moves with surprising ease in the tight confines of the car, straddling my lap and bracing himself with his hands on my shoulders. "That's better."

Not going to argue with him. This is a lot better. I like having his weight on me---warm and solid.

He leans in and captures my mouth again. I shudder when he uses his tongue to caress the roof of my mouth. I swear his tongue is a lethal weapon.

I can feel his hands tugging at my shirt. Damn glad I'd shucked the jacket before we got in the car. One less layer to have to fight with.

Both of us are too eager, too damn hungry to really bother trying to wiggle free of our clothes. Just ruck it up, push it aside, shove it far enough to finally get to skin. hot, smooth, amazing skin. Much better.

Times like these I think Tony has got to have more than two hands. They are everywhere?touching, stroking, gripping, teasing, pinching, soothing. I love, absolutely and positively, love his hands.

"Want you," he whispers, voice rough and needy. "Always have, you schmuck. Always will."

"Same," I growl back at him. I'm not sure if we're still fighting or not, but I don't care as long as we don't stop.

The car is just too small and I want to howl in frustration. Not enough room to just take him or let him take me. Both of us are too tall and I'm too old to fold up like a pretzel. No supplies either---those are in the trunk---damn it.

"Tony?"

"Shhhh." He places a finger against my lips. His pupils are so large, his eyes look black. "I got an idea."

That's all the warning I get before he's moving. Not quite sure how he manages to swing his legs up over the driver seat---especially with his jeans still bunched up around his thighs, but he does. His hands are now holding my hips and his feet are braced against the back seat. I can immediately see and feel the advantages of this position. He's breathing on my cock and I've got his within easy reach.

I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of his arousal. Damn. If I weren't already hard, I would be now.

Never really tried this before. Takes me a minute to figure out how to ride out my own pleasure as he licks and sucks me while I do the same to him. Good thing he's got a tight grip on my hips---the instinct to thrust into that wet heat is so strong?I could have choked him if he wasn't pinning me. I got the same hold on him, holding him just where I want him as I treat his dick like an all day sucker.

When he swallows me whole, it's all I can do not to scream. I can't quite return the favor because deep throating isn't a skill I can lay claim to, but I know how to make that little detail unimportant. Little tongue swirl over the tip, some suction, a little humming, and I can feel just how close he is. His muscles flex and quiver under my hands, and he fights against me, trying to sink into my mouth. It is such a rush---this power play between us.

Think he's doing everything I do---but I don't really know. Too much---so good---so good. Sensations passing back and forth like echoes. Can't tell if I'm leading or following now.

I'm so caught up in his building orgasm, my own almost takes me by surprise. I arch into him, nearly choking as I try to swallow when he does the same to me. He tastes bittersweet, like dark chocolate. I make damn sure I don't miss a drop. I can breathe later.

Both of us are panting and shaking in the aftermath. I'm vaguely aware enough to be grateful he has the good sense and courtesy not to just collapse onto me. In bed, I wouldn't mind, but this bucket seat isn't nearly as forgiving.

His breath ghosts over me when he sighs. Makes me wish my recovery time was good enough for another round right now, but even when I was sixteen, I didn't recover that fast.

Tony starts to move away, working his way back to the driver's seat, and I'm half tempted to tell him to stay. But I doubt being poised over me, weight on his hands and heels, is all that comfortable for him. As I start to straighten my close and bring my seat back up, Tony laughs softly. He reaches over to cup my face, leaning in and resting his forehead against mine.

"We should make up more often."

"Have to fight for that," I point out wryly. His eyes really are an amazing shade of green.

"Always got to see the down side, doncha, Jethro?" He's grinning when he asks so I know he's not really upset or angry.

I pull back just a little, searching his face. "Did we settle this?"

"Don't know?" He shrugs, looking sheepish. "Did we?"

I turn my head enough to place a kiss in his palm. "You should have said something."

"And you should have been less of a bastard. But we both did what we thought was right at the time."

I can hear my Nanna saying something about arguing over spilt milk. It was done, can't undo it. I can learn from this mistake and not do it again. I smile. "I think it's settled."

He rolls his eyes and laughs. Tony gives me a quick kiss before settling into the driver's seat, still putting the final touches on adjusting his clothes. "Good thing I didn't tell Mike what time we'd be there."

"Ya think?" I laugh.

Could just be the endorphins. Could be Tony saying he wants me---always has and always will, so what anyone else has to say doesn't matter. But I'm not nervous any more.

I wasn't aware I'd dozed off until I woke up. Tony was stopping the car, parking it. I blink, looking around to see where we are. Shit. Mike's driveway. I'd slept thru the rest of the trip.

"Have a nice nap?"

He sounds amused, so I know he's smiling even before I look at him. I scowl. "You shouldn't have let me fall asleep."

"Right." Tony snorts. "Because keeping you awake and worrying needlessly would have been so much better."

"Shaddup." I lightly cuff the back of his head.

He grins back at me, unrepentant and uncowed. I love when he does that. If he hadn't been able to stand up to me, not sure we'd have ever made it this far.

"C'mon." Tony opens the door. "They are probably waiting for us."

Like that is supposed to be encouraging, I think, rolling my eyes. I realize that unlike the last time we were here, there are several vehicles in the driveway. Mike's older pick up I remember from our last visit. The car with North Carolina plates must be Gabe's. The other looks like a rental---probably Zeke's. And there is more than just kitchen and porch light on. Looks like every room downstairs is lit. Makes the big, old Victorian look warm and inviting.

The screen door bangs open. I catch sight of a younger man with long, sun-bleached blond hair leaping off the porch to sweep Tony into a bone crushing hug that would give Abby a run for her money. Tony returns the exuberant greeting, hugging this guy just as hard.

They are both laughing, and there is a quick exchange of cheek kisses. I lean against the car, trying not to interrupt their reunion. Figure I can learn a lot just watching, no reason to waste the opportunity.

I remember seeing Gabe in the family photo but for some reason I just assumed he'd be more quiet and reserved like Mike. The picture didn't come close to capturing the energy of this kid. I can't help wondering how much caffeine he drinks a day.

He's got the same wiry build of his older brother, but Gabe is closer to Tony's height. Not quite sure what to make of the long hair. Wasn't that long in the picture I saw but that photo was a few years old. To each his own I guess.

When Tony said Gabe worked for the state monitoring water quality, I assumed that meant lab work. But from the windburn I can see on his cheeks and the freckles that lightly decorate nearly every bit of visible skin, I have to rethink that assumption. Gabe obviously spends a lot of time outdoors.

"Gabe, ease up there, piccalino. He needs to breathe."

Mike is leaning against one of the porch pillars, arms crossed, looking fondly amused by his little brother's antics. I was so focused on Gabe and Tony I hadn't even heard him step outside. I wave to him and he smiles back, giving me a brief nod.

Gabe finally releases the death grip he's got on Tony, his grin still bright and joyful. I have a feeling that's a normal look for him. Another thing he has in common with Abby.

"You aren't the only one who wants to say hello, brat."

That voice is a rich baritone I'm unfamiliar with. I belatedly notice what I should have seen before; Mike's not alone on the porch. Again I realize I'd made more faulty assumptions. Sort of expected Mike's brothers to sound like him, and while they all have a similar accent, that deep voice definitely makes Zeke unique from the other two.

That isn't all. Zeke is wearing what Shepard would call 'office casual', a forest green polo shirt and khaki pants. It is a marked contrast to the faded denim jeans and flannel shirts both Gabe and Mike have on. His dark blond hair was probably cut and styled in a place that likely cost a fortune. He looked like Tony did those times I'd mentally labeled 'GQ days'.

Unlike Gabe, Zeke doesn't leap off the porch. But the hug he gives Tony is just as warm and heartfelt. And again, there are kisses to both cheeks. Guess it really is a family tradition thing.

When they finally pull apart, Tony reaches for my hand, and I clasp his without thinking about it. He tugs me forward. "Jethro, let me introduce you." He nods first to Gabe. "Gibbs, I'd like you to meet, Gabriel Capanzini. Gabe to friends and family." He smiles at Zeke. "And this is Ezekiel Capanzini. Zeke for short."

He pulls me a little closer. "Zeke and Gabe, this is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He prefers Jethro."

Both of them smile, Gabe wide and welcoming, Zeke a bit more reserved but no less honest. "Nice to meet you, Jethro."

"Wow---stereo." Tony snickers.

Gabe waggles his eyebrows. "Wait till Sammy gets here."

Zeke punches him in the arm. "Knock it off, ya wingnut. You'll scare Jethro off before we get a chance to know him." He gives me the same winsome smile I've seen Tony use. "Don't mind him. He doesn't get out much."

Gabe sticks out his tongue. The childish gesture reminds me of Abby again. It suddenly makes sense why Tony always got along with her so well.

I hold out my hand. Zeke shakes it. He's got a good grip...definitely does more than push a pencil. "Nice to meet you too."

Gabe offers his hand as well. The calluses on his fingers and palm tell me he definitely works with his hands. I get the feeling he'd like to just pull me into a hug and give me a greeting similar to the one he gave Tony, but a sharp look from Zeke keeps him from doing it. Can't decide if I'm relieved or disappointed.

Before I can make up my mind another voice calls from the porch. This one is far more heavily accented and decidedly female. She's speaking in a mixture of English and Italian that leaves me getting about one word in ten. From her warm smile and the way she pulls Tony into yet another hug, it is clear she's happy to see him.

Mike and his brother's must have gotten their bone structure and blonde hair from their father. Momma C is a solidly built lady---not fat, just not what I'd call delicate. It isn't hard to picture her as a young woman. Probably had all the curves most women today starve themselves to avoid.

Her hair was likely the same color as Tony's at one point. The dark strands I see scattered among the silver are evidence of that. She's not so vain then as to dye it.

"Let me look at you, Antonio." She steps back from their hug, reaching up to cup his face. It's only then that I realize she's so much shorter than my lover. Like Gabe, she radiates a sort of life and energy that makes her seem larger.

"Do you not eat, Innamorto?" She clucks her tongue. "You are much too thin."

I try not to cringe. It's not like I don't make sure Tony eats. Hopefully, it's just something she says all the time.

Tony laughs, "I eat, Momma C."

She arches an elegant eyebrow. "Junk food," she declares with certainty. "That is not the same as eating. Not a real meal. You know this, si? I tell you all the time."

Tony sighs and leans forward to place a kiss on her forehead. He says something that sounds like agreement or is meant to pacify her. At least as far as I can tell...I really hate not understanding what is being said. Tony's taught me a few words, some expressions but not nearly enough. It would be easier if they weren't speaking a regional dialect version of Italian. The stupid language tapes I got don't help worth a damn.

When she pulls away from Tony she gives me an inquiring look. Her eyes are the same warm caramel color as sons'.

"You must be Jethro." The richness of her voice makes me wonder if she can sing.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She eyes me, and I can feel myself almost coming to attention. Make sense I guess. Last time anyone gave me such a frank appraisal was my commanding officer when I was still in the Corps. I found myself hoping it wasn't overly obvious what Tony and I had done in the car on the way here. And thinking I should have dressed a little nicer. Maybe brought flowers or something.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I offer, holding out my hand, pleased both my voice and hand are steady.

She smiles, eyes twinkling and I know the look she'd given me was deliberate. She wanted to see how I'd react. Can't quite tell if I passed muster or not. Maybe the jury is still out. But she does take my hand in both of hers.

"Come, you must be tired and hungry."

I am man enough to admit I was momentarily worried Tony might leave me alone with her. But he's right next to me, an arm over my shoulder, as we head into the house. He gets another hug and more kisses from Mike. I get a slap on the back and a smile.

"Nice to see you again."

"Same here." I know he knows I mean that. And not just because he might be my only ally here, other than Tony.

The table is set when we get inside, and there is a red-head in the kitchen. Carol...I recognize her from the photos. They didn't do her justice. She's even more striking in person. Her fair skin surprisingly unmarked by freckles, but there are a few laugh lines around her jade green eyes, probably from the amount of time she spends outside like her fiance. Unlike Gabe, her hair is shorter than it was in the shots I saw. The cut is similar to whatever Shepard had done to her hair, but on Carol it really works, making her look like a pixie.

"About time you all decided to come in from the cold." She smiles brightly. "I was beginning to think I'd never get a chance to say hello."

"You could have come out to join us," Tony points out, stepping close to give her a hug.

"And leave the food, never," she laughs. "Momma C made biscotti."

"Tell me you didn't eat them all." Tony's eyes narrow.

"Most of it." She points to Gabe. "And what I didn't eat, he did."

"Well some one had to make sure it was okay." Gabe grins back, unrepentant.

"Like it is ever not okay." Zeke snorts.

"Well you ate all the chocolate cake."

"I only had one piece."

"Yeah, the last piece."

"I'm Carol," she says to me, neatly ignoring the ongoing--discussion, argument, squabble...whatever and offers me her hand.

"I'm Jethro." She's got a grip that reminds me of Kate...strong without being hard.

"Don't mind Zeke and Gabe." She gives the still arguing siblings a fond look. "They are just a bit competitive."

"Yeah, like the ocean has a little water in it," Tony says with a wink. "Wait until they break out the games."

Carol rolls her eyes. "I'm not playing with them any more."

"You said that last year," Mike points out dryly. "And you still got suckered in."

"I'm older and wiser this year."

"Bullshit," Mike coughs into his hand.

Gibbs half expected to see Momma C cuff him one for cursing, but she didn't seem at all fazed by it. She does however neatly put a stop to Gabe and Zeke's squabbling. It takes only a few sharp words. She didn't even have to raise her voice and they are giving her looks that would be more at home on boys who got caught stealing cookies than grown men. I am impressed.

"Sorry, Momma." They say it together. I get the feeling they do that a lot.

She dips her head, accepting their apology. She smiles at me and Tony. "Come, sit." She waves a hand at the others. "Everyone, please, take your seats."

Mike sits at the head of the table with Momma C at his right. Zeke sits at the opposite end, with Carol and Gabe next to one another. The arrangement makes it possible for me to sit next to Tony but also leaves me directly across from Momma C. I got a feeling that was intentional.

"Michael," she nods to him and he says grace. He didn't do that the last time I was here, but I doubt he would actually refuse his mother.

The food is all light fare. And it reminds me of the late meals I had in Europe , traditionally served with wine. I'm not surprised to see Zeke getting up to fill each of our glasses with a dark red wine.

"You bring this with you?" Tony asks.

"Natch." He grins. "Reds are better there."

I'm not clear on what Momma C says until she holds up her glass. When everyone else does it, I follow suit. Maybe offering a toast is tradition like saying grace.

"To the family you are born into," she pauses to look at each of her sons, "and to the family you choose," she looks at me, Tony and Carol, "may they always be happy and healthy."

Something in Italian echoes around the table. I hope no one notices I didn't say it. I get a small understanding smile from Carol. Nice to know I'm not the only one who had to learn these things. I make a note to ask Tony later.

Conversation bounces back and forth with a surprising amount of ease, covering a wide range of topics. Things I can participate in, like the Ohio game Tony and I watched last week. Not quite the fan Tony is, but I didn't mind watching it with him, cheering on his Alma Mater. And things I know nothing about like the new job with the park service Carol is considering. Even when they slip in and out of English I know it's not because they are talking about me. They just don't even realize they are doing it and stop as soon as they see just how lost I am.

I expected to be interrogated, or put on the spot, but that didn't happen. This was---normal, for lack of a better word. Like sitting down and eating with friends I've known for a long time, rather than several people I'd only just met. Maybe Mike told them everything he found out when he so nicely grilled me during my first visit, or maybe they all spoke to Tony.

Either way, I'm not the center of attention, but just one more at the table. And I'm grateful for that. Not sure I could handle it if they focused on just me and still be civilized. Don't want to be a bastard to these people. Wanted the chance to make a good impression, and I've got it.

I feel Tony put his hand on my thigh. I put my hand over his and smile. He told me I didn't need to worry. Looks like he was right.

I'm not sure what I expected when we finished eating. But Zeke and Gabe start clearing the table like a couple of pros. I'm wondering if I should help. Before I can decide, Tony pats my leg and tells me quietly to stay put.

I'd feel weird about sitting there doing nothing except Carol, Mike and Momma C are doing the same thing. I remember Tony saying whoever cooked doesn't have to clean, so I'm guessing that's why they are still relaxing at the table.

Tony helps Zeke and Gabe. They work together surprisingly well given the sibling rivalry the younger two brothers have displayed since we got here. Probably why Momma C and the others tolerate it so well---for all their verbal sparing it is obvious they really like each other and genuinely enjoy their on going competition. And it certainly hasn't affected their ability to work together if the rate they care clearing the table is anything to go by.

"Antonio?"

"Si?" Tony looks up from where he's gathering the last of the dishes. Doesn't look like he's forgotten anything from when he worked as a waiter. Would still like to see him in a tux. Just have to find the right occasion for it.

Momma C is smiling at him. Can definitely see the fondness in her eyes when she looks at my lover. Not sure Mike was entirely right when he said Tony is her favorite but I can see why he'd think so.

"Would you bring out the coffee, por favor?"

Tony smiles. "Sure, Momma C."

The large eat in kitchen means I can still see and hear what's going on anywhere in the room from the table. Probably one of the reasons Mike remodeled it in the first place. I can easily track Tony's progress to the coffee pot.

I was hoping someone would suggest coffee; wasn't sure it would be kosher for me to ask for it. I like wine, and the stuff Zeke poured was good, but I want something hot. And I have the feeling I may need to be awake and on my toes.

I duck my head to hide a smile hearing Zeke and Tony still talking about the Ohio State game. Tony was more than just a little smug that his Alma Mater won. And he's been rubbing it in off and on since we sat down to eat.

"Told you not to bet on Michigan." Tony says as he fills the coffee pot, hitting a few buttons to get the machine going.

"Even Sport Illustrated picked them, Tony." Zeke's deep voice carries easily even when he's speaking softly. He looks over his shoulder at Tony, hands buried deep in the sink. "They have the one of the best defensive lines out there."

"Best defense is a good offense, Zeke," Tony points with a laugh. "And Michigan wasn't that good. Ohio's is clearly better."

"Sammy picked Michigan too."

"And that's what you get for listening to him over me."

I can see him move to start drying dishes already washed, piling them on the opposite counter from where the other dirty dishes are waiting their turn. They work easily with one another. Guessing they've done this chore together more than once.

"I thought you were just being sentimental. You always pick Ohio."

Gabe is rolling his eyes as he walks back to the table carrying several coffee mugs. "Never should have mentioned the game."

"Pretty sure they'd have brought it up on their own, baby brother." Mike chuckles. "And when Sammy gets here it will get worse."

"Don't I know it." Gabe snorts, before grinning widely. "But he did lose a hundred bucks to Tony, so I'm thinking it might just be worth it."

"How much did you win?" I ask. He looks too much like a cat that ate the canary for him not to have bet on the winning team.

He smiles. "I didn't bet any money on the game."

Carol laughs. "But you did have a wager."

Mike snickers. "You bet travel plans again, didn't you?"

Gabe grins. "Sammy and Dan have to come see us this summer." He rest on hand on Carol's shoulder, smiling down at his fiance. "And it's only fair. We went to the farm last year."

"Sammy is almost as bad as Momma about traveling," Mike says, filling me in on why Gabe's victory so clearly a big deal to him.

"I am not bad about traveling," Momma C interjects, shooting her oldest son an annoyed glance. "I simply do not like planes. If I were meant to fly, God would have given me wings."

"You used to fly," Gabe points out quietly. "You went back to Italy several times."

"I was younger then," she gives him a look that clearly says the discussion is closed.

Guessing something happened that made her dislike flying...something they probably all know about, and never discuss openly. I'll admit, at least to myself, I'm not man enough to ask for details. Things have gone well so far tonight. Not going to fuck it up by asking about something so clearly off limits.

Tony and Zeke walking in with a full coffee pot, and a tray with what has to be cream and sugar, is enough to break some of the tension. I can tell Tony knows something's up, but only because I know him so well. He's good at subtle. Can't help a little surge of pride in his skill.

He gives Mike a quick look, and something passes between them. I have to squash the instinctive flash of jealousy that engenders. I don't want him to do that silent communication with anyone but me; which I know is just stupid and juvenile. He's known Mike for seventeen years for crying out loud. It's only natural they'd have the sort of history where one look could speak volumes. I'm not going to make an ass out of myself by being pissy over their ability to have an entire conversation with just a look, but I do make a note to ask about it later. I've already gotten quite a list of things to ask him about once we're alone.

Tony pours the coffee, offering full mugs to any one who wants one and neatly opening a new topic for discussion. If I hadn't seen it, I'd never even know there was any sort of disruption at all. The moment of tension is gone that fast. Like a ripple in a pond.

"So did you finish it yet?" Tony asks, looking at Mike expectantly.

"Almost." Mike grins. "It'll be ready before you leave."

Tony's eyes sparkle. I know that look. Reminds me of a cat ready to pounce. Makes me wonder just what 'it' is. I knew Mike was making something for Tony, I just didn't know what.

"Can I see?"

"No. Not until it is done." Mike points a finger at Tony. He gives his younger brothers a firm look as well. "Don't you two be trying to peek for him. And no teasing either."

"Spoil sport." Gabe and Zeke speak together. Carol snickers, shaking her head. Evidently they really do this stereo thing a lot.

"You had to wait for yours. Only fair he does too."

I remember Tony saying Mike had made something for each of his brothers. Wish I'd thought to ask for more detail then on what he'd made for them. Might be a clue there to what Mike made for Tony. I'm almost as curious as my lover about whatever 'it' is.

"I've already waited longer than they have." Tony doesn't quite pout, but he's damn close to it.

"Then another day or two won't hurt."

"C'mon, Mike, you know that's just bull--"

"Patience is a virtue," Momma C points out with a small smile, cutting Tony off before he can complete what was no doubt a curse. "One all of my children would do well to practice, eh?" She gives them all a look that makes it easy to picture Mike, Zeke and Gabe as small boys. Not hard to envision them trying to sneak a peek at Christmas and birthday presents. Bet they got their hands smacked more than once.

She takes a sip from her mug before making a shooing motion. "Go play a game or something. I want to speak to Jethro."

No one but me seems surprised by her declaration. Shit. I am not ready. I was thinking I'd have another day?two, maybe. Or never. Never would be good.

She looks at me steadily, before turning a calm, inscrutable gaze on Tony. He was just about to retake the seat next to me when she says something in Italian. I can tell he's about to protest but all it takes is a look from her to stop him cold. Damn. Can't help but being impressed with how well she does that even though I resent her for it.

Tony leans down to whisper in my ear, "She doesn't bite, Boss. You'll be fine."

Traitor, I want to shout at him when he leaves with the others, heading for the living room. I manage to keep my mouth shut because I can't see how calling Tony names would help my case any. And honestly, I couldn't see him fighting her. Hell, she's got me pinned in my chair right now and I've only just met the woman.

It's a weird feeling to be on the other side of an interrogation. Not entirely sure what to expect. I take a deep breath and wait for her to start.

She smiles. "Tony says you were a Marine."

"Yes, Ma'am." It's not a question, but I answer her anyway.

Not sure if it's good or bad that Tony's talked to her about me. On one hand, it's good because well, she knows about me, which is reassuring. Not like he just sprung me on her. But there is always a down side, depending on what all he's said about me over the years. She's probably heard more about me as his boss more than she has about me as his lover. Most of the time I take pride in being a bastard when it comes to the job, but this isn't about the job. First time I can remember sitting across a table from someone and not wanting them to think of me as a mean son of a bitch they don't want to fuck with. This would be so much easier if I didn't care what she thought.

She measures me with her eyes. "He says you were married."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Four times?" She raises an eyebrow.

I sip my coffee sorely tempted to just say 'yes ma'am' again, even though I know that's not going to cut it. I clear my throat. It still hurts to say it out loud even after fifteen years. "My first wife was killed while I was overseas."

"It is hard to lose a loved one." Her voice is so soft I barely hear her speak.

"Yes, it is." I remember Tony saying her husband died when Mike was a teenager. So we have a common ground of sorts.

"You sought..." she frowns clearly seeking the right word, "solace with another? Married them to replace the one you lost?"

"I did, yes." It still shames me to think how stupid I was to try and replace Shannon with anyone. They were never going to be anything but a stand in, a poor substitute for the real thing. Ended up resenting Diane and the others for not being her, which was hardly their fault or fair. Course, I didn't even realize that myself until just a few months ago. Who would have thought getting caught in an explosion could be a good thing?

"Are you still doing this?" She frowns, dark eyes narrowing as she studies me. "Using my Antonio as a stand in? Treating him as...second-best?"

"No." I didn't shout...just barely. "Tony is no substitute." I sit forward, wanting there to be no mistake between us. "He is one of a kind."

"Bene." She tips her head slightly. "He should be loved for himself, not for another."

"I know."

She smiles at me and I feel like I did the when I passed my first proficiency test in Basic Training. Definitely said the right thing.

She cocks her head slightly. "And these other three wives? You do not strike me as Casanova, trading one for another."

"They all left me." I smile tightly, knowing I'm going to have to give her a reason for why they didn't choose to stay. "I am a hard man to live with."

She snorts delicately. "No man is easy to live with."

"I get a bit obsessive about the job."

"Tony did not mention you have a gift for understatement." She chuckles. It's low, raspy and sounds so much like Tony it's hard to believe they aren't blood relatives.

"What did he tell you?" I can't resist asking.

"Many things." She smiles enigmatically. "But all that really matters, Jethro, is that he says you make him happy. And that I can see for myself."

She reaches across the table and pats my cheek. "You hurt him, and I will see you burn in hell. Capisci?"

She means that. I nod my head. "Got it."

Wonder if how seriously this family takes relationships is why it took Gabe so long to propose to Carol. Tony said they'd been dating five years before he asked her to marry him. And he said Sammy didn't bring Dan by to meet his family until they'd been seeing each other for more than a year. Can see why they'd want to be sure their love interests could handle an introduction to this family. Not something for the faint of heart that's for damn sure.

Just like that I get a flash of insight. Tony would have done a hell of a lot more than just offer to spend the holiday somewhere else if he didn't think we were worth it. He sure has hell wouldn't have left me alone with either Mike or Momma C if he thought for one second I couldn't handle it, or wouldn't pass muster.

"You give Carol and Dan this same speech?" Maybe it's just me or Tony that engenders this sort of thing. Wouldn't hurt to know for sure before I get to feeling too smug.

She laughs, deep and rich. "Slightly different versions, naturally, but yes, they received a similar warning." She pats my cheek again. "Welcome to the family, Jethro."

"Thanks." She means that as much as she did her earlier threat. I think I could really like these people.

"Come." She gets up from the table. "I cannot hear my children, which likely means they are up to no good."

She gives me an impish grin that Gabe no doubt inherited from her. Her eyes sparkle and it isn't hard to imagine what she looked like as a young woman. Momma C had to have been just as lovely and lively then as she is now. "They are probably listening at the door."

I chuckle. "I would have."

"Bene." She pats my arm. "You are more like us than not."

I smile at her. That is one of the best compliments I've ever gotten.

I look up at the ceiling, squinting in the pre-dawn darkness. It's an instinctive reaction to the faint noise I heard against the shingled roof of the cabin. I cock my head, identifying the noise before dismissing it. Rain. Not sure when it started but it sounds light. Weather report said it would probably rain all Thanksgiving day. Hadn't really expected it to start quite so early, but not like we're out in it so it's not really a big deal.

Tony sighs softly, snuggling in closer to me. The heavy down comforter I pull tighter around us wasn't what was on the bed the last time we were here. Mike probably added it, knowing how cold it gets this time of year.

Mike offered us use of one of the rooms in his house, but I'm glad Tony turned down the offer. I mean, yeah, I'd prefer to stay in a place with central heating, a house with electricity and running water. Comforts of home and all that. But the cabin is certainly more private.

I don't mind Mike's family thinking we have sex; just not comfortable with them hearing us having sex. And I wouldn't put it past Gabe or Zeke to listen at the door, or try to find a way to 'accidentally' walk in on us. While I'm not ashamed of anything Tony and I do together, I sure as hell am not going to put on a show either.

Tony shifts again, an arm and leg wrapping themselves around me, using me as a body pillow. He does that a lot. I don't mind. Having him do that is like being caught up in a warm, living blanket. Never ceases to amaze me just how much heat he puts out. No wonder my bed always seems so damn cold when he's not in it.

Now that I've slept with him, I can tell when Tony's asleep and when he's just meditating. At the office, when he's meditating, Tony's completely still. I mean complete and total; not even his eyes move. He's not really a restless sleeper but he's not naturally the sort to be perfectly still, ever. And his breathing isn't quite as even when he's asleep. There is the smallest hitch on each inhale when he is deeply asleep, something that's absent when he's awake or meditating. Not sure if it's a hold over from his bout with the plague or not.

Dr. Pitt recommended he get a flu shot and one for pneumonia too, just to play it safe. I made damn sure he did. Can't let him take the risk of getting any kind of lung ailment. Damn lucky that Tony doesn't have any allergies and never had asthma.

Tony mumbles something indistinct. I run my fingers through his hair, hoping he's not waking up yet. It's still early, and I want to just enjoy being with him for a bit before we have to get up. Don't get to do that often enough.

He sighs softly again, almost like a purring cat. Makes me smile. Not sure if I like his hair shorter or not. Longer strands are more fun to play with, but it's so soft when he has it cut short. Reminds me of the teddy bear Kelly used to have.

The drumming on the roof is getting louder. Must be raining harder. Damn glad we don't' have to be out in that yet. Don't think either of us have any rain gear. Not a big deal since Mike's house isn't more than a ten minute walk away. Still glad we are in where it's warm and dry.

"Boss?"

"Shhhh," I whisper. "Go back to sleep." He doesn't sound completely awake anyway.

"S'matter?" He slurs, rubbing his cheek against my chest.

"Nothing."

"Why...you...awake then?"

He lifts his head. I can't quite see him frowning, but I know he is. Never met anyone as in tune with me as he is. Would be scary if I hadn't come to rely on it so much.

"Rain woke me," I tell him, keeping my voice soft.

"Rain?" He tilts his head, not doubt hearing the same drumming that woke me. "Hunh. Weatherman said it would."

I cup the back of his head, and lightly it back down to my shoulder. He doesn't fight me, settling in again. When he shivers, I pull him in closer to me.

"You cold?"

"Hmmm?"

"You warm enough?" I try again. I'm pretty sure he's not really with me, but I want to make certain it was my being awake that woke him and not him being uncomfortable.

"S'good." He pats my chest, the movement slow and languid.

I place a kiss in his hair. Most of the time when he's awake, he's awake. It's rare that I get to experience him like this...half aware, relaxed and open. Makes me curious what he'll say if I start to ask him questions. Pretty sure he'd tell me anything I wanted to know---without hesitation, misdirection or humor. It's wrong to want to take advantage of him that way, but the temptation is still there.

"Can...hear...you thinking."

"You can not."

"All those gears whirring and cogs spinning make a lot of noise, Jethro."

I chuckle quietly, amused in spite of myself. He's definitely awake now. I can literally feel him becoming more aware. He doesn't exactly tense up but the weight of him against me lessens as he begins taking more conscious control of his body.

"Never would have guessed you'd be so good at charades."

I can't help laughing. Charades was the game they told Momma C and I they'd been playing when we found them trying to cover up trying to eavesdrop on us. Not bloody likely. No way they could be doing that without making any noise. But Momma C didn't call them on it, she just asked if it the game could handle the addition of two more players. Was a neat gambit that forced them to make good on their lie. She's quicker than I expected. Definitely quicker than her children expected, so I don't feel bad about it. Was a lot of fun. More than I thought it would be.

"I'm good at reading people," I tell him, cuffing the back of his head lightly. He knows this already.

"Yeah, but I never in a million years would have pegged you as being so good at pantomime."

I can just make out his bright grin in the dark as he looks up at me, chin resting on my chest. The peels of laughter he'd let loose, nearly crying he was laughing so hard at one point, face flushed with delight, green eyes dancing---that is a memory I intend to never lose. It was worth acting like an idiot.

"I like to win."

"I could tell." Tony snickers. "I mean the lengths you went to were impressive. Don't think I've ever seen anyone do such an accurate imitation of--"

"Shaddup." Better to cut him off now. I wasn't embarrassed at the time because I was focused on winning; I'm competitive by nature. Just never realized it would extend into things other than the job. It's been years since I was with a group of people to do nothing more strenuous than play a game.

"It's not a bad thing, Jethro. Wasn't like we weren't all a little silly last night." Tony lightly pats my chest, offering physical as well as verbal reassurance. Not that I need it, but I'm not going to object to him offering either.

"And if you didn't play to win, Gabe and Zeke would have wondered if there was something wrong with you."

Given how competitive those two are, I believe him. At least they didn't threaten grave bodily harm yet. But then, they haven't had any time alone with me either. So maybe they are just waiting for an opportunity.

"Gabe and Zeke usually leave that to Mike, Sammy or Momma C. They aren't going to try and corner you and read you the riot act."

Not quite as grateful for his ability to practically read my mind off the job as I am when we're working, but I'm no longer surprised by it. "So it's just Sammy I have to worry about now?"

"Don't think you need to worry too much." Tony places a quick kiss on my chin. "Already passed muster with everyone else."

Yeah, and none of the others had been in the service. Can't help thinking Sammy is going to have more exacting standards. SEALS aren't known for accepting anything less than the best. But then Momma C has an exacting standard of her own--- maybe she let me off easy so Sammy could kick my ass. Would make sense to have her soften me up a little and let him make the kill.

Tony cups my cheek. "You never mentioned a penchant for paranoia."

"Never had so much to lose before," I tell him without actually thinking about it. Wasn't trying to flatter him or overstate the case, I was just being honest. It still gets me a kiss so I'm not at all sorry I said it.

I suck his tongue into my mouth, enjoying the way he moans when I do. Feel him shift so he's lying on top of me, covering me from head to toe. Lean muscle over long bones makes him surprisingly heavy, but I don't mind. I like the solid, weight of him pressing me into the mattress.

Took me awhile to get comfortable with the idea of sleeping naked. Wasn't something I made a regular habit of even when I was married. But Tony likes it when I do, so I try to do it more often. Damn glad I didn't bother with even boxer shorts last night because now there is nothing between us, just his skin against mine.

Never met anyone who feels as good as Tony. His skin is smooth, soft and warm, like heated silk?except on his chest and legs. The bit of body hair he's got is rougher in contrast, but creates this amazing friction when I rub up against him like I'm doing now.

Not sure which of us actually breaks the kiss. His breathing is ragged, and I can hear myself panting. I can't help moaning when he moves to suck at that spot on my neck. And that thing he does with his tongue---God, I love that. I shudder when he nibbles his way down my neck to the hollow of my shoulder. Makes me hiss when he bites just hard enough to leave a mark.

I flip us so I'm on top. I capture his mouth again. His tongue plays with mine---wet and warm, aggressive one second, almost shy the next.

His hands are roaming freely over my back. Feel like his fingertips must be on fire; they make my skin burn in their wake. Makes me hungry for more of that exquisite torture. He swallows the whimper that slips out when he rakes his nails over my skin---so light it almost tickles.

I have to let go of his mouth to breathe. Hate that I can't just kiss him forever, but taking a deep breath has its own rewards. The scent of him is heady?musky and sharp. Wish there was a way to bottle that fragrance. Probably good thing there isn't. Walking around with a perpetual hard on would be embarrassing, not to mention painful.

I search for the spot just below his ear that always makes him shiver. I move my hands down his sides, making circles with my thumbs. He arches his back, hips thrusting against me. I ride it out, moaning when his hard cock rubs against mine.

He's saying something, but for the life of me I have no idea what. Hell, at this point, I couldn't even tell you the language. All I really know is I like the deep, rough quality of the voice. It's the only time he sounds like this. That voice, that one is mine.

I'd like to slow down, take our time. Not sure what it is about sex in the morning, but for us, it's always so damned intense. I've tried to slow it down before---like trying to damn a river with toothpicks. Not a chance in hell. Can't say it's all bad though---this frantic, passionate, just give it to me now morning sex. No, not bad at all.

Tony is grinding against me, kneading my ass with those incredibly talented hands. I am matching his every movement?thrusting, rubbing, sliding. Feels so good. So very good.

I nuzzle his chest until I find that hard, pert point I'm looking for and suck hard. He makes this most amazing little mewling sound. I keep at it, sucking, biting, laving-- anything to get him to make that noise again and again.

I find myself making some noise of my own when one of his fingers presses against my opening. He just rubs back and forth?a teasing caress, with no penetration. I'd like more, but that would mean stopping and trying to track down the duffle bag neither of us thought to unpack last night. It feels way too good to stop now.

Tony's movements are rougher now, harder, less coordinated. He wraps his legs around me, trying to do the impossible and pull me in closer.

I use both hand to tilt his head for a good angle so I can kiss him again. I breathe out when he breaths in. His tongue in my mouth, then mine in his.

He breaks the kiss when arches his back. The tendons in his neck stand out in harsh relief, mouth open in a silent cry as he comes. It's enough to bring me over the edge with him. I growl out his name, hugging him tightly to me, shaking with the force of my orgasm.

I lay on him, tying to catch my breath. Takes a bit before the blood pounding in my ears actually quiets enough for me to be able to hear his heartbeat. It's a strong, steady rhythm that I've become very familiar with.

I sigh when he starts petting me. His fingers slid through my hair, then down my back, over and over.

We should probably think about moving. Maybe do something about the mess we made between us, but all I want to do is stay where I am and bask in the glow. Tony doesn't seem to inclined to move either. At least I don't have to worry that I'm too heavy for him. Took me awhile to figure out he likes my weight on him as much as I like his weight on me.

"What time do we have to be at Mike's?"

"Not until nine...ten maybe."

I don't have to look up to know he's smiling---sleepy and content. Can hear it in his voice, in his heart rate and breathing. Can almost feel it in his touch.

"Sammy...and Dan won't be here...till eleven. Depends on when they left. Traffic. Usual." Tony yawns. "Dinner isn't until one."

"Should we help in the kitchen?" I don't really want to, but it's only polite to offer.

Tony snorts, sounding amused. "Momma C wouldn't let us in."

I suspected that might be the case from some things said last night, but I wasn't sure. Thanksgiving dinner is evidently hers, and hers alone to make. Another family tradition.

I pull up the comforter that slipped off at some point, covering us both. The rain is still beating steadily against the roof. A few more hours of sleep sounds like a great idea.

I step out of Mike's shower grateful he had the foresight to have an extra large water heater installed and sufficient water pressure the guest bathroom and the master bath could be used at the same time. Admit I'm a little disappointed Tony and I couldn't shower together, but like staying at the cabin instead of Mike's place, privacy is a premium.

Mike's got the same oversized, fluffy towels Tony has. Would bet good money that Tony bought them for his friend. Mike seems more like me---too practical to spend enough money to turn something so utilitarian into a luxury. Although, I do like Tony's towels better than mine. Not that I'd admit that out loud.

Shame Tony didn't stock Mike's bath with his usual line of soap and shampoo. Wish I'd thought to pack what he kept at my place. Still not sure exactly what brand it is or where he gets it, but I like the smell of it.

Glad the dress is mostly casual. Jeans, t-shirt and a long sleeve flannel over it are good enough. Well, except for Zeke. He looks like something out of a catalog. Figure that's just the way he is.

I grimace as I look in the mirror. Tony likes my hair longer, but I find myself still expecting to see it short. Not quite a high and tight, but close. Seems weird to have it long enough I actually need to comb into some semblance of order. I snicker thinking Gabe probably spends as much time on his hair as one of my ex-wives did.

I make sure the bathroom is just as neat and clean when I leave as when I entered. It is mostly habit since I do the same thing at home, but I don't want anyone to think I'm a slob.

I stuff my dirty clothes into the same small duffle bag I brought the clean ones in and head down stairs. The smells drifting in from the kitchen are amazing. My stomach rumbles loudly.

"Sounds like you could do with something to eat." Zeke smiles up at me from the foot of the stairs. He's got a coffee mug in hand.

"Could use a cup of coffee more."

Zeke jerks his head toward the living room and I follow not entirely surprised to see a tray on the side table. Kind of got the impression eating anywhere other than the kitchen was sort of taboo. But with the kitchen is pretty much off limits at the moment, not a lot of choice.

Not sure how long access to the kitchen will be restricted. Momma C shooed us through the kitchen almost the second we walked in, saying something in Italian I didn't need an interpreter to understand. Thinking we won't be welcome back in until lunch is ready.

Not like anyone will starve until then. Neatly lined up on the tray are a collection of mini bagels, scones and a variety of toppings. Enough there to feed a small army.

Carol and Gabe are lounging on the couch, looking very comfortable in each other's space. I'm a bit envious of their being able to be so close until I remember that Tony and I can do the same thing here. Find myself looking forward to cuddling on the couch with him and not having to worry who might see us doing it.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and breathe in the aroma. Love that smell. I was surprised to learn last night that Gabe doesn't actually drink anything with caffeine. Can't decide if it's scary or reassuring that his high energy level is completely natural.

Tony comes bounding down the stairs a second later. Like me he's in jeans. Instead of a flannel shirt he's got on a green sweater that matches his eyes. I really like that one. A lot.

He immediately checks the side table, evidently expecting food to be there. "Scones!" Tony says with glee, obviously pleased to see those on the table.

"I even left you some raspberry jam," Gabe calls out.

"More like Momma C got out another jar," Carol says dryly, arching an eyebrow at her fiane.

He holds out his hands, palm up as though balancing something. "Six of one, half a dozen of another."

"That the total number of scones and bagels you ate already this morning?" Tony asks, eyeing Gabe.

Gabe just grins back. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Zeke snorts. "Keep eating like that little brother and you're going to get big as a house."

Zeke sticks out his tongue at Gabe. "Carol said she'd still love me if I were fat."

I have trouble picturing him ever getting fat. Could happen I suppose. Once his metabolism slows down. If it ever does. Just as hard to picture Tony as getting fat. No matter how much he eats, he never seems to gain weight. Wonder if Gabe sheds weight with the same alarming ease Tony seems to. With so much in common, it really is hard to remember Tony isn't a blood relative to these people.

Watching the amount of jam Tony is spreading on his scone, I wonder if Gabe was equally generous with it. Probably. Would explain why a second jar was necessary. Given how little is left in that jar a third might be needed.

I hold out my hand in a silent request, and Tony gives me half of his scone without hesitation. One bite and I know why the raspberry jam doesn't last very long. Damn that's good. From the smile on Zeke's face, I'm pretty sure he knows what I just realized.

"I'll see if Momma's got another jar squirreled away some where."

"Might want to make that two," Carol calls after him, laughing softly. "Dan will want some to take home with her."

"I thought she liked the strawberry better," Gabe says, frowning.

"No, that's Sammy," Tony offers, pouring himself a cup of coffee adding an ungodly amount of cream and sugar.

He pops the rest of his scone in his mouth. Kind of surprised to find I've already eaten the half he gave me. I spread more jam on another scone, offering Tony half before moving to sit on the loveseat. It makes me very happy when Tony opts to sit next to me, his leg and shoulder against mine.

"Where is Mike?" He's the only one I hadn't seen yet.

"Garage." Gabe grinned at Tony. "He's working on your present."

Tony gives him a dirty look. "Mike said no teasing."

"Poppa Mike isn't here." Gabe doesn't quite sing that, but it's close.

My fingers itch to smack the back of his head. I don't mind the team teasing Tony?it's a normal part of how they interact with one another. I know he's good friends with these people, one of the family even, but it feels wrong to me to let anyone who isn't a teammate tease him.

"He'd believe me if I told him you were being a bad boy," Tony grins, bright and smug, pointing a finger at Gabe. "You know he would."

Gabe rolls his eyes. "Tattletale."

"Not my fault you give me so much to work with."

Gabe's lower lip protrudes in an exaggerated pout. "You don't have to use it, you know."

Tony snickers. "Now where would the fun in that be?"

Zeke comes back in with another jar of jam. He gives Tony a questioning look, holding up the jar. Tony nods. He gives me the same look and I realize he's offering to bring us more scones from the table. I nod. I could eat another one, even if I probably shouldn't.

"I'll have to run another mile to work all this off, and we haven't even gotten to lunch yet," Carol says with a sigh.

"You don't think the ten you normally do are enough?" Zeke asks as he slathers jam on half a dozen scones.

"Ten miles?" I hadn't realized she was a runner, although given her fit, athletic build I probably should have.

"Training for a marathon," she says with a shy smile.

"More than a marathon," Gabe corrects her, one arm around her in a loose hug, pride obvious in his voice. "Carol is going to compete in a triathlon."

"Seriously?" Tony gives her an appraising look. "When did you decide to do that?"

"Last year when we were up to see Sammy and Dan. A buddy of his from the service does them and he was there. We got to talking---"

"And one thing led to another," Zeke finished, offering her a scone from the plate he had. He slapped Gabe's hand when he reached for one before Carol did. "Ladies first."

"You going to compete too?" Tony asks Gabe.

"Only if someone is chasing me." Gabe rolls his eyes. "I plan to lead the cheering section."

"Don't let him fool you." Carol laughs softly, offering him a bit of her scone. "He runs with me every morning."

"Bike seats are a bitch," Gabe says with a grimace. "Lance Armstrong is one tough dude."

Zeke offers us the plate of scones and I take one. Tony takes two, giving Zeke a cheeky grin.

"Knew you would do that." Zeke smiles back. "Only way to make sure there would be one for me too."

"Always said you were a bright boy."

I can just make out Momma C singing in the kitchen. No idea what song it is or even what she's saying but she has a nice voice.

"You sure we shouldn't help her?"

"Positive." That comes from both Zeke and Gabe.

Tony sighs, shaking his head. "She's adamant about doing thanksgiving dinner herself. Has been for as long as I've known her."

"Gives her a chance to cook for the family again. She says she misses it." Zeke tells me as he sits on the couch next to Gabe and Carol. He smiles at Tony. "And with you here, she can say it was the whole family this year."

I know he doesn't mean anything bad by that comment. It's not a deliberate dig against me, but I tense anyway. Tony leans into me, grounding me, reminding me that he doesn't hold my stupidity against me, doesn't blame me. Still think maybe he should, but I'm not going to say that out loud.

"Sammy missed a few years in a row too," Gabe says softly his expression pensive, brown eyes troubled.

"He's okay now, baby," Carol kisses his cheek. "Came through that just like he said he would."

"Incident that got Sammy his medical discharge from the service," Tony whispers. "He was in the hospital for months. Doctors weren't sure if he'd make it for awhile there."

I remember Tony telling me that whatever happened to Sammy was still classified. That he'd been discharged from the SEALS about the same time Tony joined NCIS. Back when Tony and I met, he looked worn down, rough around the edges, but I didn't know him well enough then to say for sure. I'd thought it was just the job and having to balance working with me and his shithead of a partner. Remember him being on his cell phone a lot and mentioning Bethesda. Only made note of that because I thought it might have been related to the case.

"He's okay now though, right?"

"Mostly, yeah." Tony shivers, green eyes clouded by what have to be painful memories. "Lost his spleen, a kidney and part of his liver." He looks down at his half eaten scone, setting it aside. "Still has screws and a metal plate in his right femur."

I wince. Damn. More than just a bullet wound then. Probably shrapnel. Not often one bullet does that sort of extensive damage. Which also explains why he was discharged.

I realize his friend's injuries might be the reason why Tony took the job when I offered it. Working for NCIS gave him a chance to do something for guys in the service like Sammy. Certainly more than he could do working as a Baltimore homicide cop.

"Was what happened to Sammy why you took the job--"

"One of several." Tony gives me a wry look, before patting my leg. "By that time, I had more than one."

Know it's a bit petty, but it still gives me a little rush to know I was one of the reasons he took the job.

"Don't let that go to your head, Boss." He grins at me, shadows no longer lurking in his eyes.

Some days it sucks that he knows me so well. Instead of a cuff to the head, I squeeze the back of his neck and shake him lightly. He grins and picks up his scone again. It's worth it to see him smile, and it's definitely a good sign his appetite is back.

A second later when I hear Mike enter and call out, "Sammy and Dan are here."

Everyone else scrambles up from there respective places, eager to meet the missing member of the family. Me, I feel more like the scone I just ate turned to lead. Shit.

Tony holds out a hand to me. He pulls me to my feet, and gives me a quick kiss. Can taste the raspberry jam in his mouth. Not surprised to find it tastes even better that way. We are definitely taking a jar of that home. Assuming I survive meeting Sammy, of course.

"C'mon, Marine." Tony tugs at my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen. "I'll protect you."

"You better."

I hang back a bit and let the rest of the family greet the new arrivals. I want a chance to observe before being drawn into the middle of what I can only describe as a nearly deafening, joyful chaos. Everyone seems to be talking, laughing and hugging at once.

Dan is stunningly lovely in person. Unlike the anorexic model types that grace the covers of every woman's magazine in the country there is nothing remotely cold, untouchable or standoffish about her. Her smile is just as warm and friendly as Tony's are apt to be. She evidently has no trouble with her mother-in-law if the hug they are sharing is anything to go by.

Sammy is not nearly as quiet as Mike, but he isn't as open and energetic as Zeke and Gabe were when I first met them. He is the shortest of the four brothers. He's got more muscle packed on to his wiry frame, which makes him seem stockier than he really is. His ash blond hair is a neat crew cut that would meet with my drill instructor's approval.

I notice a thin scar that runs along his right cheekbone and up to his temple, disappearing into his hairline. Probably a souvenir from the same mission that got him discharged. If it was shrapnel, he was lucky not to lose the eye.

Sammy pulls Tony into a bear hug that is just has fierce the ones he gave his brothers. They exchange cheek kisses. Sammy cups Tony's face and says something I can't hear but it makes Tony smile shyly.

Green eyes search for me, and I step forward. Time to face the music. Tony waves me closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder when I am close enough.

"Sammy, this is Jethro Gibbs."

Sammy's dark brown eyes give me a frank appraisal in less than a second. Not sure what to make of his look, but he holds out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Gibbs."

His voice distinguishes him from his brothers as well. It's a rough, gravelly bass. Not unpleasant, just somewhat surprising.

"Nice to meet you too." I shake his hand. His grip is strong but not crushing. No stupid, pointless display of testosterone.

"Dan?" Sammy calls out. "Have you met Gibbs yet?"

"No." She approaches with a warm smile. "So nice to finally meet you."

Her hand is very fine boned, literally dwarfed by mine. So I take it delicately, leery of applying too much pressure. She laughs softly, squeezing my hand.

"I'm not that fragile."

I can feel my face warm a bit. But I'm still glad I was gentle with her. Can't see anyone in this family being happy if I'd hurt her, even accidentally, especially Sammy.

"You have to be tough, Dan," Tony grins, "or you'd never survive living with Sammy."

She laughs, taking one of Sammy's hands with both of hers. "Oh he's just a big teddy bear."

Tony snorts. "You've never sparred with him."

She gives Tony a knowing look. "Sure I have." She waggles her eyebrows. "Just on a softer mat that the one you guys use. And with an entirely different goal in mind."

"God, I should hope so." Zeke interjects with a snicker. "Not like you need to know how to take down an enemy sentry in total silence."

"Not like Tony needs to either," Gabe points out, grinning.

No, I think, Tony doesn't need to know how to do that, but it's a good skill to have. Knowledge like that could save his life, and probably has more than once. I'm grateful Sammy taught him some Judo and Aikido. Sparring with Tony without him holding back was definitely enlightening. He's not as good as I am, yet, but he does more than hold his own.

"Sammy just likes putting me through hell." Tony's still grinning so it is clear he doesn't really mind.

"No, I like having a student who actually listens." Sammy gives Gabe a smirk. "I'm sure Carol has her hands full just making sure you're housebroken."

Gabe rolls his eyes. "I'm not that bad."

"Yes, you are." That comes from Mike, Sammy and Zeke at the same time.

Carol wraps an arm around his waist. She mock glares at his brothers. "Don't make me sic Momma on you."

Momma C for her part just laughs. She's obviously used to their antics. She certainly seems to know when to stop them before they go too far.

She glances at the clock and then toward the oven. Get the feeling we're about to be sent back to the living room to entertain ourselves. I'm not the only one, because Sammy whistles sharply once, getting everyone's attention.

"Before we get banished from the kitchen, Dan and I have an announcement." Sammy smiles at his wife. "You want to tell them?"

She grins back, before reaching out to take Momma C's hands. "You are going to be a grandmother."

Momma's mouth drops open. Then she's hugging Dan to her, babbling something in Italian and looking like she's going to cry.

I wasn't really surprised by Dan's announcement. Tony said Sammy had mentioned having big news to share with the family and Dan was practically glowing every time she smiled. Shannon had the same look about her when she was carrying Kelly. Sammy looked as proud and excited as his wife, accepting the congratulations and hugs being offered with a huge smile.

Gabe and Zeke immediately start suggesting baby names. Sounds like a competition to find the worst baby name out there. God help this kid if Dan or Sammy take them up on anything they've started tossing out. What kid would want to be saddle with a name like Aloysius or Eunice for life?

Carol and Momma C seem focused on planning a baby shower as near as I can tell. Only half of everything being said is in English. Not sure I honestly want to know what all is being planned or talked about. For all I know they are talking about the merits of natural childbirth.

I remember going through that with Shannon. Being there for Kelly's birth still ranks as one of the most miraculous moments of my life. It's right up there with the first time she called me 'daddy'. I shake my head and refocus. Some things are best left alone.

Mike and Tony seem to be setting the ground rules for betting on the baby's gender, weight, date and time of birth. I almost expect Sammy to be offended but he's arguing that he shouldn't be disqualified from betting just because he's the father.

"This kid is going to need shoes, you know?" Sammy scowls at his older brother.

"This kid is going to be spoiled rotten." Mike looks pointedly at their mother. "You really think he or she is going to want for much?"

"Besides," Tony smiles brightly, "it's not like you'll be using the money for that anyway."

"Seed money for a trust fund," Mike says, chuckling when he sees me looking confused by Tony's statement. "We figured out what to do with the money first. Given how smart Dan is, this little Capanzini will probably end up going for three degrees."

"Just like Uncle Gabe," Gabe says, buffing his nails on his shirt.

"God helps us if this kid is anything like you," Sammy shakes his head. "We'll never be able to feed him."

"Feed him?" Zeke snorts. "You'll be on a first name basis with every doctor in the ER until the kid leaves home."

"Hey!" Gabe protests, lightly smack Zeke on the shoulder. "I was not accident prone."

"You most certainly were." Mike rolls his eyes. "You tripped over air."

"Should have taken those ballet lessons Momma C suggested." Tony snickers. "Maybe learned a little coordination."

"Oh yeah, like you were a graduate of grace and charm school."

"I was never in the ER twice on the same day for two unrelated accidents."

"I keep telling you guys that was not my fault." Gabe looks indignant. "Why you can't just admit I'm the innocent party?"

"Because you're not," Zeke says.

And they are off and running again, arguing about something I'm not even going to try and understand. I get the impression Gabe was even more energetic and active as child, and had the same sort of insatiable curiosity that drives Tony. I have no trouble seeing how that could have been a dangerous combination. Hell, Tony still rushes headlong into harms way more than I like.

I can't help shaking my head when Zeke brings up Gabe trying to use Momma C's best sheets for a home made parachute. It was probably a good thing Mike managed to catch him before he leaped off the roof of the house. Not entirely sure he'd have learned his lesson if he had broken both legs.

I'm so caught up in watching them going back and forth, enjoying the things they are revealing, that I am startled to hear Sammy speaking quietly behind me.

"What do you say go out on the porch where we can talk in peace for a bit, eh?"

It might be worded like a suggestion but the tone makes it clear he's not asking. I look for Tony, surprised to find him on the other side of the kitchen talking to Dan and Carol now.

"Don't worry." Sammy chuckles quietly. "He won't notice you left until you get back."

I square my shoulders and follow him out the side door. He's light on his feet, in spite of the slight limp he has, moving silently. I doubt anyone even noticed us leave. Can't quite decide if that's a good thing or bad.

The rain has tapered off to a fine mist. The damp air makes me wish I'd brought my coat with me, or at least a cup of coffee.

Sammy turns to face me, sitting on the porch railing, hands loose at his sides. "I found out Tony took a job at NCIS when I was in rehab." He smiles wryly. "Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened to me was at least one of the reasons he'd accepted the job offer."

"Thought I owed it to him to make sure he didn't make the wrong choice." Brown eyes hold mine easily. "So I had a buddy pull your file. It's very interesting reading."

I am pissed that he knows more about me than I do about him. Never even occurred to me he might have access to my file or that he might be able to use what he found there against me. I prefer to have the playing field tipped in my direction.

"So, you're saying you know everything there is to know about me then?" I ask, forcing myself to keep my tone neutral. It won't help matters if I lose my temper, but I can't keep from glaring at him either.

"No." He isn't fazed by my glare. "I know what other people thought was important enough to write down. That is hardly everything there is to you, Gibbs."

Sammy nods toward the door behind me. "The Capanzini family isn't even a footnote in Tony's file, but that doesn't mean we aren't important to him. Or that he isn't important to us."

"Is this where you threaten to skin me alive if I hurt him?" I ask, thinking maybe I'll get one up on him. Meet the possible threat head on.

"No." He shakes his head. "It's not a question of if you'll hurt him," he looks at me steadily, "but more a question of when and how badly."

Shit. There is nothing but calm, confidence in his voice. And it's like getting kicked in the chest. At least Momma C and Mike had been willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.

My fingers curl into fists, chin rising as I face him squarely. "So you're going to tell me to stay away from him?" Like I'm going to consider that. It will be a cold day in hell before I let go of Tony. Finally found the one person who fills in every piece I've been missing. I won't give him up without a fight.

"No, I'm not going to tell you that. Not going to tell him to stay away from you either." He smiles at me, winsome and innocent. "But it's nice to know you'd go toe to toe with me if you had to."

"Why?" I growl at him.

"Because I'd have some serious doubts about Tony's judge of character if you hadn't been willing to step up to scratch."

"No, not that," I hiss to keep myself from yelling. I don't want to attract the attention of the rest of the family. "Why are you so sure I'm going to hurt him?"

"Because you already have." He says that like he's simply stating an obvious fact I should already know. Like water is wet or the sky is blue.

I wince. Not like I can deny what he's saying?any more than I could when Mike made the same observation, albeit a bit less bluntly. I can feel my face flush.

My hurting Tony wasn't intentional. It was before we got together, damn it. "I didn't mean--"

"I know you didn't mean to. That's the whole point. It's why I'm sure it will happen again."

He waves a hand in an elegant, meaningless gesture. "You are a former Marine sniper, with a purple heart to your credit and four marriages under your belt. You are still you?warts and all. Knowing you love Tony doesn't fundamentally change that."

I frown. I'm not sure I understand where he's going. "But you aren't going to tell me to stay away from him? Or tell him to stay away from me?"

Sammy's expression hardens, eyes boring into mine with a fierceness that tells me he's every bit as dangerous as I think he is. "Believe me, if I thought for a second the pain you caused was the product of deliberate malice, instead of you just being self-centered and clueless, I'd have fucked you up long before now."

I stifle a shiver, and force myself not to react to that obvious threat. No doubt about it. He means every single word. And what's worse, I agree with him. I'd have deserved it if my intent had been to hurt Tony.

His expression shifts, no longer cold or threatening, but open and approachable once more. Even though Mike told me the whole family could make that sort of transition, it still surprises me.

He shrugs one shoulder. "Just because something hurts, doesn't mean it isn't worth doing. Sometimes it's the things that hurt which are most worthwhile."

I get what he's saying. As much as it hurt to have lost Shannon and Kelly, I would never have them not to been a part of my life. Can't stand the thought of not having Tony as part of my life now either, not even when he makes me crazy at times. Know he feels the same way. Stupid poem might be right---It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Sammy cocks his head studying me. I know he knows I got it. He nods once.

Sammy sighs softly, posture relaxing a bit as he shifts weight off right leg. "Before my father died he told me every man makes mistakes. What separates men from boys is what they will do to make it right."

He fixes me with implacable, measuring look. "Next time you screw up and lose your temper. Get a little self-absorbed. Shut him out, or lash out without thinking--you better be prepared to move heaven and earth to make it right."

The 'or else' is nicely implied. Mike was right. Sammy is better at this than he is.

"I'll make it right."

"Good man." That is a quiet, yet ringing endorsement.

Before any more can be said the door opens behind me. Tony steps out on the porch. He looks to me and I know he's checking to make sure I'm okay. I nod and smile. The conversation with Sammy was a little unnerving but nothing I couldn't handle.

"Sammy, Momma C wants you to set the table."

Dinner won't be ready for another two hours at least. So her request is a pretty clear indication she wants him to stop grilling me. Have a feeling that if we weren't really done, it wouldn't matter quite so much what Momma C wanted. My gut tells me she knew exactly how long to give us---something Sammy confirms a second later.

"Momma has always had impeccable timing." He grins, lightly slapping me on the shoulder as he moves to reenter the kitchen. "And she's damn near omniscient when it comes to her children. Hope like hell I am as good as she is when it comes to my own."

"You will be," Tony says. "Probably not until the third or fourth one though. Heard that sort of thing takes practice."

He laughs, poking Tony in the chest. "Shaddup."

Tony swats his hand away. "That doesn't work for Mike either, you know?"

"Hope springs for eternal," he says, closing the door behind him cutting off anything more Tony might have to say.

Tony shakes his head, looking amused. "Man knows how to make an exit."

He looks at me, measuring. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." I point a finger at him, letting my lower lip protrude just a little. "You were supposed to protect me."

He laughs, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me. "Did you need me to protect you?"

"No." I pull him closer, sighing as I settle into his warmth. "But that is hardly the point."

"Right." He snickers. "Because I'm sure you could have had that conversation with me standing here."

He's right to be sarcastic. The entire tone of the conversation would have been decidedly different if Tony had been present. Like with Mike and Momma C, Tony not being there made it easier for us to be honest with each other. Still, I don't want to let him off the hook too easily.

"If it had gone badly?"

"I saw you leave." Tony pulls back and kisses the tip of my nose. "So did Mike and Momma C."

"Backup." He had my six. Never really thought otherwise.

"Exactly." Tony grins. "Would have been here before the blood made too big a mess to clean up."

I snort. "Oh that is soooo reassuring."

"Well it would be for Mike. Blood stains on his porch would just be messy. Not to mention hard to explain." Tony's eyes dance. Love how he looks when he's happy.

"C'mon." He tugs on my hand. "Dan brought her DVD of A Christmas Story. They are setting it up for us to watch until dinner is ready."

"That some classic sappy holiday movie?" I ask, following him inside.

"It's a classic. Not sure it qualifies as sappy." He laughs. "You'll like it. Trust me."

"I do." With everything that matters, everything I hold dear, I trust him.

?A Christmas Story' proved to be every bit as enjoyable as Tony said it was. I laughed my way through Ralphie's desperate bid to get an 'official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model BB rifle with a compass in the stock'. Hearing Mike and his brothers say that each and every time Ralphie did, with the same speed and cadence was so damn funny. Obviously, they've watched this a lot. Carol, Dan and Tony always copied the standard reply to Ralphie's request, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid".

"In Zeke's case that might well be true," Sammy snickers, wrapping one arm around his younger brother in a loose head lock, pulling him closer.

"I'm no marksman, but even I'm not that bad." Zeke settles into Sammy's hold rather than fight him. He nudges Gabe with his foot. "It's baby brother who would more likely shoot out his eye."

Gabe snorts, grabbing Zeke's foot, shaking it once before releasing it. "Do I need to remind you that I won at skeet shooting?"

Mike snickers, lightly patting Gabe's arm. "You were also the one to leave buckshot in Mario's ass."

Gabe blushes, but he gives his brother a mulish look. "He deserved it."

Tony laughs softly. "I knew that was no accident." He raises his fist, reaching out toward Gabe so the younger man can bump it with his own.

I'm a little curious about who Mario is and just what he did to deserve getting shot in the ass. But I'm more interested in the way everyone seems prone to this almost constant contact and being comfortable in each other's space. When Tony and I came into watch the movie, I expected them to spread out, claim some space for themselves, with the exception of Dan and Sammy, Gabe and Carol. As couples, it made sense for them to curl up with each other. But they all seemed to gravitate to the oversized couch in front of the TV, settling in easily on it or on the floor in front of it with little fuss or fanfare. For the duration of the movie, they all seem content to be as close as possible even though the loveseat and the recliner would clearly be more comfortable than the floor.

I really like that the overall closeness made my arm around Tony unremarkable. It doesn't stand out or seem at all odd. Not that I thought anyone would object?not really. Just nice to find we fit in so easily.

"Sit still," Carol directs Gabe. She'd spent half the movie neatly braiding Gabe's long hair. It didn't look like it bothered him. If anything, he seems to enjoy the attention. Might be the reason why he let it grow.

"You want some pink ribbon?" Mike asks, snickering.

"Maybe some flowers," Sammy suggests with a grin.

"Boy might outshine his bride on their wedding day." Zeke laughs softly, easily dodging the lazy swat Gabe makes at him without disrupting the loose hold Sammy still has on him.

Carol gives Zeke a pointed look and he has the good grace to look embarrassed. He ducks his head. "Sorry, Carol."

"You should be." She smirks. "And for the record, I fully intend to be the center of attention on my wedding day."

"Duly noted." He gives her an innocent, endearing smile. Tony has used that same smile once or twice.

I wonder if Carol and Gabe have set a date yet. Probably. Likely isn't even something Tony realizes I don't know or he'd have told me. Didn't realize it myself until now.

Before I can even ask, Momma C calls from the kitchen. "Dinner is ready."

"Finally." Gabe scrambles to his feet, offering a hand to Carol. "I'm starving."

"How can you be starving?" Mike rolls his eyes. "You ate a ton for breakfast."

"I'm a growing boy."

"Riiiight." Sammy rolls his eyes. "That's not going to work when you are forty with kids of your own."

Gabe gives him a huge grin. "I got more years than you till I hit the big four-oh, and before I have to worry about the pitter patter of little feet."

Sammy grins back, clearly delighted to be reminded of the impending arrival of his first child. It hurts to see that much joy---joy I got to experience first hand and will likely never have again. Tony gives me a concerned look, obviously sensing the change in my mood.

Ordinarily, I'd shut him out. Talking about Shannon and Kelly was taboo for so long it is a novel feeling to find myself actually wanting to confide in Tony about them. But I really don't want to get into it in front of everyone else.

"Later," I whisper to him, "when we're alone."

He studies my face, green eyes searching. Not sure what he finds, but he nods before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Later, then."

We head out to the kitchen, his hand in mine. Silly really how such a small thing as holding hands can make me feel so much better.

They must have added a leaf to the table because it is definitely larger than it was last night. There are more chairs too.

And even if they didn't need more space for the added people, it was definitely needed for the food. The array of stuff on the table is stunning. Full turkey, golden brown on a huge white platter. Steaming bowl of mashed potatoes, another bowl filled with homemade rolls nearby. Stuffing and cranberry sauce and a gravy boat are scattered down the length of the table. There is some sort of broccoli salad thing and a kind of pasta that I don't recognize. Several water pitchers are there too, as well as a coffee carafe. Man. Closest thing I've ever seen to compare it with is a painting by Norman Rockwell.

Tony whistled softly in appreciation. "Wow, Momma C, you went all out."

"Nothing is too good for my children." She beams at him. "Come, sit before everything gets cold."

I don't really pay much attention to where everyone else sits. My main focus is to make sure I get a seat next to Tony. Not that I really had to worry. Sammy and Dan are next to one another. Same for Gabe and Carol.

Momma sits between Zeke and Mike. She nods towards Sammy. "Samuel, would you say grace please?"

"Sure, Momma."

He makes short work of it. Always liked that about Catholics. Grace is rarely a long winded thing. No obsessing about acknowledging God as our savior or laundry list of things to be grateful for or asking for Him to watch over and bless everyone and his brother. Nope. Just your basic 'thank you' for the food we are about eat.

Momma C smiles warmly at me. "Do you know how to carve a bird, Jethro?"

I blink. "Yes, I know how."

"Good." She offers me the carving knife, hilt first and a two pronged fork.

I take them hesitantly, stunned that she's even offering. I figured she'd want one of her sons to do it. Mike gives me a wink and a smile. He's not bothered by her choosing me. I hesitate, glancing around, wanting to make sure he's not the only one.

"Better get started, Boss." Tony sends an amused look around the expectant table. "Before the natives get restless."

"Right."

Feeling more confident, I start carving with steady hands. Neither Mike or Momma C have a preference. Dark meat or light is fine, as long as they get some. Gabe wants white meat, and not surprisingly, a lot of it. Zeke on the other hand only wants dark meat. Sammy, wants a little of each. Carol and Dan both go for the drumsticks. Tony, I knew, preferred white meat. He and Gabe will probably make sure there isn't much of it left over.

Conversation flows around the table the same way it had last night while bowls and plates are passed easily from one person to the next. It isn't really as hard to follow as I thought it might be with more people added to the mix. Guess I've gotten used my team having side conversations and running off on tangents while they process paperwork and information. Rather proud of their ability to multitask.

Gabe and Zeke are evidently back to picking out horrible baby names. And from the sounds of it, Carol and Dan have joined in. That surprises me, until I realize they are, in their own way, every bit as competitive as the two brothers. The Ohio game comes up again with the discussion between Tony and Sammy becoming rather animated to say the least. Momma C just rolls her eyes at them, and asks me about the boat Tony's mentioned in my basement. Mike is very interested in my efforts to stay true to the old hand crafted ways. We talked about wood working before in a general sense before, but this time we're delving into details, comparing different types of wood and the right methods for working each.

When Mike offers to take me out to his garage, Tony swivels his attention to his friend like he was following the conversation all along. "Can I come?"

Mike raises an eyebrow. "You've already seen my workshop."

"So?"

"He's not going to let you see your gift until it's finished," Sammy says, smirking.

"Kept me waiting a good six months," Gabe grumbled. "And he locked the door."

"Should have learned to pick locks," I offer, unable to stop myself before the words slip out.

"Do not offer to teach him how," Mike orders pointing at me with is fork, shaking his head. "It's hard enough now keeping him out of things. Worse than a cat."

"He's been snooping for Christmas presents for the last week." Carol laughs softly.

"You already started shopping?" Dan asks, looking equal parts impressed and appalled.

"I always start early, you know that."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize how early."

"I hate crowds." Carol shudders. "Won't catch me out on black Friday for anything in the world."

Dan laughs. "I love black Friday."

Sammy winces. Clearly he doesn't share the sentiment. I never cared for shopping with Shannon either. I went whenever she asked me to, but if I could get out of it, I usually did. I'm not really surprised to hear Sammy offer up someone else to take his place.

"You can take Zeke with you tomorrow." Sammy nudges his brother's shoulder with his own.

Zeke grins, eyes bright and eager. "I've already scoped out the flyers. Just tell me when you want to leave."

Obviously Zeke doesn't share his older brother's dislike of shopping. Given his taste in clothes, maybe I shouldn't be surprised by that.

He and Dan start talking about sale items and laying out strategy for which store to be at when. I've seen less well drawn out battle plans. Can't decide if I should be impressed or afraid.

"You going with them?" I ask Tony. He's as much a clothes horse as Zeke, so it could be the kind of thing he likes doing.

"You're kidding right?" Tony gives me a wide eyed look, shaking his head. "Not just no, hell no."

"You went with me before," Zeke reminds him, looking gleeful and I get the feeling that Tony may not have gone willingly.

"Once was enough," Tony declares firmly, pointing a finger at Zeke. "People are insane then---pushing, shoving, yelling. Feel like I should have had one of those little paper cups full of oats they give you at petting zoos so I could pacify the animals." He grimaces. "I swear some lady tried to run me down with her stroller. And this little blue haired grandmother tried to bludgeon me with her cane."

"Gotta watch out for those." Dan nods sagely, her eyes sparkling. "I had to beat one back with my purse several times."

"That's my girl," Sammy says with a laugh.

"You bet I am." She grins back at him, raising her water glass to lightly ring against his. "Those little tricks you showed me come in handy."

Sammy shakes his head. "That's not exactly the use my DI had in mind for those, Sweetheart."

She gives him a wide-eyed innocent look that is anything but. "Your point?"

"Better to quit now, big brother," Gabe advises, chuckling. "Not an argument you're going to win."

I have to agree with Gabe---it's not an argument Sammy is going to win. Although, I can see his point. Never would have thought of hand to hand combat skills as being useful when it came to Christmas shopping. But then I avoid shopping malls when ever possible, especially when they are inundated with people the way they usually are around the holidays. With Tony sharing a similar dislike, hopefully I'll never have to.

I look around the table and am stunned by the sizeable dent that's been made in the huge amount of food Momma C had laid out. Not nearly as much left over as I expected. Momma C looks decidedly pleased.

Mike says something in Italian, and everyone raises their glasses. I understand just enough to realize they are saluting the meal Momma C made and thanking her for it. Tony smiles at me when I get the right inflection to the few words he taught me from the cabin to the house.

Momma C nods her head, accepting their thanks and price a bit like a queen getting her due. I have to admit she's every bit as regal as I imagine a monarch being.

Evidently it's also the signal that the meal is officially finished and to start clearing the table. This time, everyone but Momma C moves to help?myself included. It is amazing that without any obvious instructions everyone works so easily, clearing and cleaning with little fuss or fanfare.

I half expected so many people to get in each other's way. Kitchen isn't really that big, but everyone seems to move around easily. Food is put away in Tupperware containers, while dishes are washed, dried and then returned to their proper place. I've seen base camps dismantled with less efficiency.

"What's next?" I whisper in Tony's ear. So far everything hasn't exactly been planned, but the traditional things are in full force. Wouldn't hurt to know what to expect.

"Momma C usually takes a nap." Tony whispers back. "Rest of us watch football, read, take a walk. Whatever." He smiles. "Basically let the meal digest."

I nod. Sounds good. "You'll be watching football."

It wasn't a question, but he answers me anyway. "Yeah---unless you'd rather do something else."

"Football is fine." Long as I'm with him, it's okay by me.

Seeing Mike and Dan yawn, Momma C won't be the only one opting for a nap. Gabe and Carol are grabbing their coats. They must be the walkers of the group. Not really surprising after they'd mentioned training for a triathalon. I see Zeke heading for what I remember being Mike's den. Definitely reading or working on the computer I know is in that room.

Sammy smiles at Tony. "Recliner."

"Couch." Tony smiles back.

Perfect. Having the couch to ourselves means I'll get to fall asleep on him just like I do at home. And given how relaxed, content and well fed I am at the moment, staying awake will be nearly impossible.

If it is college football, Tony rarely sits still during a game. He's what one would politely call an ?active spectator'. But I'm not that polite, so I usually just call him insane.

I have to admit I enjoy watching him more than I do the game. He's so intense, so utterly focused when it comes to his favorite teams. Green eyes glued to the screen for each play. His body swaying as though it was him running and dodging tackles. Low groans of disappointment mingled with shouts of joy. Words of encouragement or anger are thrown in whenever appropriate. He can read the play better than the announcers and knows every players name. It really is amazing to see him immerse himself so completely.

He's not nearly so engaged when it comes to professional teams---those he's content to just sit and watch, rarely commenting unless it was a particularly good or bad play. Never asked him why but I suspect it's because he still vividly remembers what it was like to play college ball, that he can still picture himself there and thinks of himself as part of the team. But pro ball was never really an option, and while he likes to watch it, he's not nearly as invested in it.

His being willing to just sit still during those games, means more often than not, I fall asleep. Sports don't really interest me, never have. So if I'm sitting down doing nothing, it's easy to just relax on the couch with Tony and nod off. This time though, it isn't just me that ends up dozing, it's him too. Given how much turkey he ate, it isn't really surprising.

I open my eyes, glancing around the room, just checking in like I have been doing about every fifteen minutes or so since the game started. It isn't something I really mean to do, but I just can't help myself. Strange place, even with Tony next to me, I don't sleep as deeply as I would be at home. Couch is comfortable enough, house is certainly quiet enough, just isn't home, and I know it.

Sammy is sleeping soundly in the recliner. He doesn't snore as loudly as Ziva, thank god. It's more like heavy breathing than outright snoring.

I remember waking up at some point and seeing Mike covering him with a blanket. He got one for me and Tony too. Lying on Tony, I am warm enough, but I appreciated the gesture enough to mumble a thank you---I think.

The volume on the TV is so low it might as well be mute. Figure Mike didn't turn it off thinking the sudden silence might wake everyone. Would have woken Tony for sure. For him, the TV is really just white noise, something he notices more when it's missing than when it's present.

From what I'm seeing on the screen, it's half time. Not sure who's winning, and honestly, I don't care. Don't think anyone else in the room does either. Not at the moment anyway.

I lay my head back on Tony's chest, enjoying the steady thump of his heart under my ear. I'd really like to just go back to sleep, but my bladder is telling me it's time to get up. Maybe Ducky is right and I do drink too much coffee. Not going to tell him that---any more than I'm likely to drink less.

I move carefully, not wanting to disturb Tony. I know it won't work this time any better than it has every time before. Not really surprised when he mumbles something indistinct, moving restlessly.

I run my fingers through his hair. I lean in to whisper, "Shh...go back to sleep."

He blinks up at me, sleepy eyed. "S'wrong?"

"Nothing." I smile at him, caressing his cheekbone with my thumb. "Just need to hit the head."

He nods, satisfied with my answer, rolling more on to his side so his back is firmly against the couch. I've noticed when he sleeps alone that he prefers to sleep with his back to the wall. An instinctive, unconscious tell. He's trying to protect himself in his sleep. Much the same way I prefer to sleep on my back or left side so my right arm is free to reach for my gun.

I pull the blanket up over his shoulder. He snuggles into it, and I can't help but smile. He always looks so sweet and innocent in his sleep. Good I know he isn't either of those things.

I place a kiss on his forehead before I head for the bathroom. There is a small half bath just off the kitchen. Doubt it's original to the house, but whoever did the remodeling work certainly made sure it would like it has always been there.

I can smell fresh coffee brewing when I leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen. Mike holds up a mug and I nod. I could definitely do with a cup.

"Have a nice nap?"

"I did." I smile, breathing in the rich, dark aroma rising from the cup he hands to me. "You?"

He smiles and nods. "Nice to have a lazy day."

"Don't get too many of those," I admit with a sigh, sipping my coffee.

"Yeah, Tony's mentioned that."

Not sure if there is censure in his comment or not, but I feel a need to defend myself just the same. "I don't make him work all the time, you know."

"Oh, I know." Mike grins. "He's always been a bit of a workaholic."

I frown. I'd thought it was only since joining NCIS that he'd gotten so focused on work. "Always?"

"Pretty much as long as I've known him." Mike shrugs one shoulder. "Might have gotten a little more intense since he started at NCIS and for you." He gives me a pointed look; we've talked about the whys and wherefores of that before. "But Tony's never been one to keep regular hours."

"Does his best work at night."

"That he does." Mike nods. "He did most of his papers in college at two in the morning. Says the words come easier then."

"He does the same thing with his reports." I had initially thought his long hours were just because he procrastinated. But nothing was ever turned in late or even at the last minute. Most of his reports are in a day or two before they have to be, so it wasn't like he had to stay until the wee hours of the morning to get them done on time.

He doesn't have to put in extra hours for research on a case either, but he does. I'd gotten used to him doing it because, frankly, it freed me up to do other things. And when he was at the office, I knew where he was and what he was doing. I felt better knowing those things.

"He is putting in fewer hours since you two got together."

I grin, not needing to ask how he knows that. Tony talks to Mike a lot. He e-mails and writes the other brothers regularly.

"Putting in a few less hours myself these days."

"Good." He grins back.

I expected him to say that since it means I'm spending more time with Tony?but his next statements surprises me.

"Not good for either of you to work so hard. You should take some time and relax, enjoy yourself. Job could burn you out if you're not careful, Jethro."

Some of my surprise had to show on my face. Mike rolls his eyes. "We care about you too."

I snort. Right. That would be why half the family threatened me with grave bodily harm if I hurt Tony.

Mike's brown eyes meet mine squarely. "If it makes you feel any better, we told Tony to be careful not to hurt you either."

I blink. "We who?"

"Me." Mike sips his coffee. "Momma." He makes a meaningless gesture with one hand. "Zeke or Gabe probably will at some point."

"Why?"

"Because no one is unbreakable, Jethro." Dark eyes regard me, unwavering. "And you've got a few cracks to your credit already."

I glare at him, annoyed. "I'm not made of glass."

"Not made of steel either," Mike points out calmly. "You are all too human, my friend. And that means you can get hurt just like the rest of us."

I growl, "Why do you care?"

"You're family now," he says, very matter-of-fact, like I should have known that by now.

It leaves me with nothing to say. I mean, I could see them standing up for Tony. I expected that. But it never occurred to me they'd consider me as much a part of the family as they do him. That they would worry about me burning out on the job. That they'd actually tell Tony to be careful with me.

"Once you're formally adopted," Mike smiles, "and getting to carve the turkey is about as formal as it gets---you are one of ours." His expression sobers. "We take care of our as best we can, each and every single one of them."

I am stunned. "You're serious?"

"You thought I was joking?" Mike arches an eyebrow.

"No, but I didn't really expect--"

"No one ever does." Mike chuckles. "Surprised Dan and Carol too." He jerks his head toward the door. "C'mon. I'll show you my workshop."

I follow him more because I can't think of a reason not to. And I'm still trying to take in how I could now be considered a full fledged member of the family. That's never happened before. Ever. Four marriages and I was never truly accepted by any of my in-laws. I was always the unwanted but tolerated son-in-law, the not quite good enough father of their grandchild. And for the last three, I was eventually just the no good bastard ex-husband everyone was sure I'd become. Don't think anyone, me included, really believed those marriages were going to last.

Mike's workshop is in the large garage next to the house. He opens the door and flips up the light switch for the overhead light. I stare, unable to stifle the envy that rises up when I see the collection of tools he's got.

Along the nearest wall is a huge collection of hand tools, neatly arranged by size and purpose. The back wall held a similar collection of power tools. Some I recognize, others I don't. Arranged along another wall are several power saws and lathes.

In the center of the room there are projects all in various stages of completion. Several antique spindle back chairs look like they've recently been repaired and stained. A maple dresser that's had the paint partially stripped from is obviously waiting for Mike to finish the job. Several turned wood vases are lined up along one table, the knots and odd grains highlighted by intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. One catches my eye that is not only carved but the rim is inlaid with some sort of colorful stone that catches the light. On the table next to the vases are several small boxes made from exotic woods I only vaguely recognize. Most have been sanded, stained and polished, but a few are clearly still in process.

"I am impressed."

"Figured that." Mike laughs, and I quickly realize my mouth was hanging open. He waves a hand. "Feel free to look around. Touch anything you like."

"You sure?"

"Part of the pleasure of working with wood is being able to touch it."

I grin. I zero in on the vases and boxes. The level of detail in the carvings is amazing. And the boxes, I discover on closer examination aren't just your basic squares with hinges, but are puzzles. I spend several minutes working out the tricks to opening each one.

"Tony loves those things," Mike says with a fond smile, taking from me the one I was currently struggling with.

"Really?"

"He's the reason I started making them." Mike deftly works the sliding parts in the correct order to open it with far greater speed and ease than I expected. He offers it to me and I realize that inside is another box.

"There another one inside that one?"

Mike nods. "About six total, one inside the other."

"So is this Tony's present?"

Mike laughs softly. "No." He points to a table I'd overlooked. Whatever is on it is covered by a small tarp. I resist the urge to ask if I can see it mostly because I know he's expecting me to.

Instead, I ask, "What did you make the others?"

"I made Sammy a cedar chest. Sort of doubled as a wedding present." He looks around the workshop. "Going to have to see if I can build them a crib for the baby."

He points to the vase with the inlaid stones. "I made a larger vase like that for Zeke." He shakes his head. "Took forever to carve. Couldn't quite do the whole frieze that decorated Acropolis. Vase wasn't big enough for that. So I just went with a few of the horsemen."

I raise both eyebrows. "Acropolis?"

"Yeah, you know?the marble building on a hill in Athens."

I nod. I remember now. Sucker is impressive even as a ruin.

"Zeke was always fascinated with the architecture of the Acropolis. Not a single straight line on the building any where. Whole thing is an optical illusion." Mike shrugs one shoulder. "He was thrilled to be able to go to the British Museum a few years ago and see the Elgin Marbles in person."

"And for Gabe?"

"I refinished an old oak dresser that Gabe used when he was a kid." Mike smiles. "Of course, I added a few details."

"Like what?"

"I carved Spanish galleons and light houses into the drawer fronts." He points to the dresser I noticed earlier. "Will do the same with that one and make it a wedding present for him and Carol if I can get it finished on time."

"When are they getting married?"

"June."

"This coming year?"

"Yeah."

I make a note to ask Tony what he's planning on getting them as a gift. Maybe we could split the cost. Or maybe he can suggest something for me to get them. Wouldn't know what to get them on my own, but I suddenly don't want to be left out.

"You want to help me strip the rest of the paint?" Mike asks. "Can work on sanding a few things if you'd rather do that?"

"Would love to." I miss having something to do with my hands whenever I go more than a few days without working on the boat. It's why I kept building them after I burned the first one.

I'd gotten used to working with wood and having someone else around when Tony and I got together. But working around Mike is totally different. For one thing he doesn't actually say much. Tony usually tells me about whatever movie comes to mind, occasionally tells me office gossip, reads articles from the newspaper aloud, works a crossword puzzle, or if I'm really lucky he'll sing along with the radio. He's got a nice singing voice, but he only seems to do it when he's engrossed in something else--almost like an absent-minded habit.

Another thing different about working with Mike---he actually knows what he's doing. I know Tony is fascinated with the boat, but he shies away from actually working on it himself. I think he's afraid of making a mistake. I've told him there isn't anything he could do that I couldn't fix, but he doesn't seem convinced.

I'm not sure how long Mike and I are working when there is a soft knock at the door. Mike glances at his watch and that's when I realize just how dark it has gotten outside. We've been out here for several hours at least.

Dan peeks her head in. "Momma C sent me out. Said she's putting out the leftovers for a light supper."

"We'll be in soon as we clean up here," Mike tells her.

"I'll tell her."

I help him clean up, putting everything back where it belongs. He turns off the light when we leave. The porch light is on, bright enough for us to see our way clearly.

Tony is leaning against porch railing, smiling at us. "You two have fun?"

"We did," I tell him. "Who won the game?"

"No idea." Tony laughs. He steps close enough to give me a quick kiss. "Did he show you my gift?"

"No, he didn't."

Tony glares at Mike. "Party pooper."

"I know you." Mike points a finger at Tony. "You'd be trying to weasel it out of him in no time."

I swear Tony's eyes glow when he looks at me. And I know what he's thinking. If he put his mind to it---his whole body to it---I'd tell him anything he wanted to know. He can be very...persuasive. It makes me blush just thinking about it.

"Stop teasing the man, Tony." Mike shakes his head, looking decidedly amused.

"But I like playing with him," Tony says, pouting. Dear god, no man should look that sexy.

"Supper is waiting." Mike reminds us as he heads inside.

"We'll play later," I whisper to Tony. The delight and eagerness I see in his eyes makes me shiver with anticipation. Hopefully no one will mind if we head back to the cabin early tonight.

I wake up when I feel Tony moving away from me. Not sure how I can tell the difference between him just changing position and actually leaving, but I know he's getting ready to leave the bed. Not going to let that happen.

"Tony?"

"It's okay, Boss." Tony sooths, voice little more than a whisper.

"Head?" I mumble, grabbing his arm to make him stay put. Don't want him to leave until I know exactly why he is getting up when the sun is barely up. Trip to the head makes the most sense.

He lightly pats my arm. "Told Gabe and Carol I'd run with them this morning."

I grunt an acknowledgement. He must have agreed to that when I was out in the workshop with Mike. I don't remember anyone saying anything about running in the morning between dinner and when we left last night.

I sigh and start to get up. Tony pushes me back down. "You don't have to get up, Boss."

"I'll go with you."

"Ten miles?"

I don't have to be able to see him clearly to know he's raised both eyebrows. I scowl. "I can run ten miles, DiNozzo."

"I know you can, but you probably shouldn't. You're knee will hate you for it, Jethro." He cups my cheek, and even as annoyed as I am about being reminded of my limitations, I can't help but lean into his touch.

"I'm not a cripple." I growl.

"Never said you were." He chuckles, leaning in to give me an all too brief kiss. "If it's any consolation, Sammy doesn't run ten miles any more either."

No that isn't any consolation. I'm not going to actually tell him that, but I'm not going to pout like some kid either just because he's right. My knee is good for a few miles, but more than that will leave me in pain for days.

"Mike will be making breakfast this morning." He gives me another quick kiss. "See if you can get him to make waffles."

"Waffles?"

"He hates making waffles." Tony snickered. "But the ones he makes are to die for. And if you ask, he'll do it."

"But not for you?"

"Not without a whole lot of whining." Tony shakes his head; grin bright enough for me to see in the early morning light. "And after ten miles with Gabe and Carol, I'll be lucky to still be breathing."

That's an exaggeration...I think. I know full well he's more than capable of running that far. Or at least he used to be. But I'm not sure how far he regularly runs any more after having the plague. He could be like me now---good for a few miles, but not up to a longer haul without suffering for it later.

I frown. "You sure you want to do this?"

He nods. "Gotta work off all that stuff I ate yesterday."

Yeah, right. Like a few days of indulging are going to put any weight on him. I'm more likely to get fat than he is. Especially since I can't work it off as easily as I used to.

He moves away from me. "And I've been working my endurance for a while now."

"You have?" I prop myself on one elbow. "You aren't planning on joining them in that triathlon thing are you?"

"Oh hell, no." Tony laughs as he digs around for clothing. "But I did do a marathon or two before. Wouldn't mind doing that again."

"When did you run a marathon?" He's never mentioned doing that before. It's not in his file that I can recall.

"When I was in Phillie I did three. Ran in two when I was in Baltimore . Gabe ran in one with me." Tony shakes his head. "With me being something of a relative term since he's faster than I am. He finished a lot higher than I did."

Tony pulls a t-shirt over his head. "Keeping up with him was a challenge even before the whole plague thing."

Gabe must be very fast then, because Tony has always been quick. I am now thinking I should go with him. Help set a pace that won't hurt him. Before I can move to get up he gives me a look.

"Don't worry, Boss, I know better than to try and match him step for step." He grins again. "Carol usually sets the pace these days. Her, I can keep up with." He laughs ruefully. "As long as we aren't swimming anyway. Swear she's part fish."

Tony pulls on a pair of track pants over the boxer shorts he picked up off the floor. I wasn't even aware he'd packed his jogging stuff. But then I hadn't really paid any attention to what he was putting in his bag. Honestly, I was just damn glad he only packed one bag. Even though I know better, I was still half expecting him to have a dozen like one of my ex-wives. They never went anywhere without at least half the clothing they owned.

"Get some more sleep, Boss." Tony sits on the bed to pull on his socks.

Yeah, like that's going to happen. I'm up now. And I can't sleep worth a damn if he's not with me.

"If you don't want to go back to sleep, you could always go shopping with Momma C, Zeke and Dan." Tony laughs as he says that.

"I'm not going shopping." I reach out and cuff the back of his head.

"I know." He chortles before twisting to run his fingers through my hair, ruffling it. "Would be too late if you had wanted to tag along with them. Pretty sure they've already left."

"Brat." I smack his hand away, torn between annoyance and amusement.

"Hey, Mike will be up and in the workshop if you want to go play with him and his toys."

"Thought he'd be busy making waffles?"

"Not until after we get back." Tony shakes his head. "The great shopping expedition might return victorious by then too."

"So soon?" I expected that foray to be an all day thing.

"Depends on how well things go." Tony shrugs. "One year Dan was back by ten."

I blink. Guess all that strategizing I heard at the table wasn't wasted. Not that I thought it would be. I just didn't think it would be quite so---efficient.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Tony wags a finger, grinning. "You ever want to go shopping, go with Dan. She's a take no prisoners kind of girl."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I kind of got that."

"See you later, Boss." Tony gives me another quick kiss and leaves before I can say anything else.

I sigh. I would have liked a repeat of yesterday morning. Hell, I wouldn't mind a repeat of last night. Never been with anyone who makes sex as much fun as Tony does. Foreplay for him can be really playful. Not entirely sure he was joking about naked Twister. But if he was serious, I think that's something best saved for when we are home...where I can make sure the damn door is locked. And I have no objection to taking him up on Strip Poker.

No point in wallowing in bed, feeling sorry for myself. I get up and dig out some clothes. I need coffee.

I shiver when I step outside. It's not really cold, but there is a definite chill in the air. At least it isn't raining. I debate with myself for all of two seconds before opting to use the outhouse. Could wait until I got to Mike's place, but I'm not going to be a whimp just because it's a little on the cool side. The water in the bottle on the shelf has a skiff of ice on the top, but not enough to keep me from using it. I can't help cursing a bit at the feel of it against my skin. Definitely need that cup of coffee now.

I miss having Tony walking next to me as I head for Mike's house. I shake my head. He's been gone for less than fifteen minutes and I'm already moping like some teenager with a crush. Christ.

I take a deep breath when I enter the kitchen, savoring the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. I am surprised to see Sammy sitting at the table sipping a cup of his own. I was expecting Mike.

"Morning."

"Morning, Gibbs." Sammy smiles at me, saluting me with his cup. He points to the coffee pot. "Feel free to help yourself."

I would have anyway, but it's nice to have it offered. I pour myself a cup and close my eyes to really enjoy my first sip. God that's good.

Hearing Sammy chuckle, I open my eyes. He shrugs one shoulder. "To hear my wife tell it, I'm the only one who thinks that first cup of the day should be considered a religious experience." He grins. "Nice to know I'm not the only one."

I smile back. "She tell you that you drink too much?"

"Just every other day or so." He rolls his eyes. "You'd think I was drinking it by the case."

"Are you?"

He laughs. "Close to it some days."

"Mike in his workshop?"

Sammy nods. "Said something about putting the finishing touches on Tony's gift."

Not sure if I'd be welcome in his workshop then or not. I stifle a sigh. I hadn't realized how much I was looking forward to it until now.

Sammy gets up from the table. He fumbles with a cane I hadn't noticed leaning against the table until he reached for it. I frown. Sammy had a barely noticeable limp yesterday and he hadn't needed any added support.

He grimaces when sees me looking at the cane and sighs. "Only need it in the morning. Stiffens up. Especially when it gets colder."

I wince sympathetically. My joints give me more trouble with the cold too. Hope to not need a cane for a long time.

"Keep thinking I'm going to have to move further south one of these days." Sammy shakes his head. "But I'm not that much of a pussy yet."

"Florida is too flat," I tell him, refilling the mug he holds out to me.

He smiles. "And way too hot in the summer time."

"It's not the heat--"

"It's the humidity," he finishes with a laugh. "130 in the shade is still damned hot, humidity or no."

Not many places in the world hit that temperature. "Middle East?"

He nods. "Desert Storm."

I blink. I wasn't expecting to have shared combat experience with someone so much younger than I am. Stupid to be surprised by that when I knew Sammy is a few months older than Tony. Both of them are old enough to have been in Desert Storm. Damn glad Tony was in college then and hadn't enlisted. I wonder why Sammy wasn't in college then too---and I ask before I can think not to.

"Signed up thinking the GI bill would be a good way to help pay for college." Sammy shrugs, leaning against the counter. "But I ended up liking it, so I stayed. Plan was to be a lifer," he thumps his cane against the floor, "but shit happens."

Timing is wrong for his injury to have happened during Desert Storm. "Enduring Freedom?"

He shakes his head. "Happened in the August of 2000."

I nod. That time line makes sense. The case where I met Tony was only three months later. He joined NCIS in January of 2001.

"You miss it?"

"Sometimes." Sammy sighs, and I know 'sometimes' is a fairly regular occurrence. "You?"

"Still in the reserves," I tell him. Although, the odds of them calling me up for anything overseas are essentially slim to none. Got a lot of guys younger than me, and more versed in the state of the art technology shit than I ever was or will be.

"Once a Marine--"

"Always a Marine," I finish for him.

"Non sibi sed patriae," he says quietly. No way I could fail to recognize the unofficial Navy motto. 'Not self but country'.

"Semper Fi."

He raises his mug in salute. And I do the same.

"Would be better with scotch."

Or bourbon, I think. "It's too early for that."

Sammy snorts. "Five o'clock somewhere, Gunny."

"Always is," I agree, laughing with him.

"C'mon, sit down." He moves back to the table and the chair he'd been in when I walked in. "We'll trade war stories while we wait on everyone else."

We are sitting at the table, still drinking coffee and talking about mutual experiences when Mike comes in about half an hour later. He arches an eyebrow. "You didn't help yourself to breakfast? Or think to make me some?"

"Nah." Sammy shrugs, good humor glinting in his eyes. "Tony wants waffles."

Mike rolls his eyes. "Waffles," he mutters, sounding amused and annoyed at the same time. "You want them too."

"Natch." Sammy grins. "Since you make them better than any of us?"

"You decided to sit on your ass and drink coffee all morning."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Mike sighs, a smile tugging at his mouth. "You could make an effort to lie, you know?"

"What for?" Sammy grins, unrepentant. "You always know."

"True." He shakes his head. "You could have made something else."

"But I like your waffles."

Mike points a finger at Sammy. "This means you have to make omelets tomorrow."

Sammy snorts. "Like I didn't know that was coming."

"Any idea when our crazy joggers will be back?"

"Another hour at most."

Mike shakes his head as he washes his hands. He starts pulling things out of various cupboards. "What kind of person runs a marathon or triathlon for fun?" His tone is a mixture of disbelief and pride.

"Same sort that think getting up at the crack of dawn to go shopping is the definition of a good time." Sammy laughs. "Face it, none of our little brothers are normal. Us either for that matter." He gives me a wink and a smile, making sure I understand his next comment is intended to be taken lightly. "Got the same strange taste in their spouses too."

Spouse? I nearly snort coffee out my nose. It hadn't occurred to me to think of Tony as my husband---or wife. But we've already known each other longer than three of my marriages lasted. And I'm as devoted to him as I was to Shannon . I smile, realizing just how well 'spouse' fits and how much I like the level of commitment it implies.

"Can't really count me on the spouse thing...yet." Mike smiles broadly. "That whole short term marriage thing doesn't count."

Sammy snorts. "Keep telling yourself that."

Mike ignores him. "And Zeke hasn't settled down yet."

"He hasn't actually picked someone for the long haul, but we know he picks out some oddballs." Sammy snickers, pointing a finger. "You thought the guy he was seeing in college was weird. Admit it."

"He was weird." Mike grimaces. "Guy had so many body piercings the kid set off metal detectors. And his hair was blue."

"Yeah." Sammy rolls his eyes. "I mean tattoos I could understand---sort of. And the hair, fine whatever floats your boat. But why the hell would anyone want to get their nose pierced. In a fight he'd be down for the count in two seconds."

"Only if you fight dirty," I can't help but note.

Sammy chuckles. "Is there any other way?"

"Not if you're fighting to win."

"Alls fair." Sammy murmurs in agreement, clearly pleased with my honest answer.

"He was better than the guy Zeke was seeing two years ago."

"Oh yeah, much," Sammy agrees.

"You welcome that guy to the family?" I am genuinely curious.

"Nope." Sammy shrugs one shoulder. "Zeke never invited him to a family gathering. That made it fairly clear he wasn't as confident in his choice as he said he claimed to be even though he did introduce him to me and Mike."

"Would you have welcomed him?"

The muscles in Sammy's jaw flex for a moment. "Zeke dumped him when he found out he was cheating on him with the barely legal age teenage girl next door."

That would be a no then. I get that. They'd have forgiven a few odd quirks, but clearly betrayal isn't on the list of things they'd let slide. Nor should it be.

"Didn't help his case any when the schmuck called Zeke's place and Momma answered his phone," Mike notes with distain.

"He was rude to her," Sammy agrees. And I get the impression that is another unforgivable sin. I can see where it would be. I've only known Momma C for all of two days and I can't see being tolerant of anyone who wasn't polite to her. She has too much class to be treated as anything other than the lady she is.

"You want to grab a shower before the others get back, you might want to do it now, Jethro." Mike says. "Won't be any hot water left when they get done."

I nod. It's a good idea. "Have those waffles be ready soon, will ya?"

Mike casually flips me off and I laugh as leave the kitchen and head upstairs. I really do like these people.

I can't believe it's Sunday already. Before I got together with Tony time away from the office always seemed interminable. Even working on the boat didn't always help make things easier. Now, time away from the office seems entirely too short and is filled with so much more I'm half afraid I'll miss out on something.

Gabe and Carol left yesterday. They were stopping on the way back to North Carolina to visit with some of her family. From what little was said, she doesn't have much more in the way of blood relatives than I do. Her mother recently remarried and moved to Arizona. Nothing was said about her biological father, and I was leery of asking. But I did find out that she doesn't have any siblings, step or half. And her grandparents died several years ago. She is fond of her mother's brother and his son and daughter, so they were going to spend Saturday night and part of today with them before heading home.

I was sorry to see them leave. I didn't really get a chance to interact much with either one individually, and I'm surprised to find myself disappointed by that. I mean, each time I got some time one on one with any of Mike's family, I came a way better for it. But they've spent almost a week at Mike's place, and it seems only fair they spend some time with her family over the holiday.

After hugging everyone else, Gabe gave me one too...no hesitation, no need to ask for permission, just dove right in and hugged me like we'd been friends for a lifetime. He reminds me so much of Abby---all high energy and exuberance. They seem incapable of expressing their affection without getting physical and don't recognize the conventional lines most people feel the need to draw.

He was thrilled when I'd mentioned Tony and I were thinking of going to the Outer Banks in the spring. The invite to stay with him and Carol was made practically before I finished speaking. I have a feeling that just like Tony, it takes very little to make Gabe happy. Just the idea we'd come visit was enough to make him grin from ear to ear; he mentioned a least a dozen places he'd like to show us. I find myself looking forward to it and hope like hell we really can get the time off.

The house was a bit quieter with them gone. Not that Gabe or Carol were particularly loud. It's just that the constant banter going on between Zeke and Gabe and the sympathetic, sisterly camaraderie that went on with Carol and Dan make their absence decidedly hard to miss.

Everyone seemed just a bit subdued after Gabe and Carol left; no one more so than Momma C. He is the baby of the family after all so I suppose it's only natural. No tears though...from anyone. Thank God. I never knew how to handle crying women, so I don't have a snowballs chance in hell of handling a guy crying.

When it warmed up that afternoon, I somehow found myself included in a cutthroat game of basketball. Me and Tony against Mike and Zeke. Sammy wisely chose to watch from the porch, occasionally acting as referee when things got a little out of hand. Momma C and Dan acted as a cheering section, although in Dan's case quite a few jeers too. She spread her wise cracks and put downs among all of us. Some of the stuff she said was actually pretty damn funny---and raunchy. She definitely no shrinking violet and I'd bet good money she was never a cheerleader in high school.

Zeke surprised me by being nearly as fast and agile as Tony. For such a snappy dresser with a hundred dollar haircut, and a guy who got excited about shopping of all things, he was no slouch when it came to playing a mean game of basketball. I mean, I knew he was competitive, but I didn't realize he was going to be any good at the game. He wasn't like Sammy---who had excelled in the service. Or Gabe---who ran or biked or swam with Carol five days a week. Or Mike...who clearly kept himself fit through physical labor. Could tell when I met him he did more than push a pencil around, and now I guess I know some of what else he does.

I rub gingerly at a sore spot on my ribs. It's a memento from the game courtesy of Mike's elbow. Bet he's sporting a few bruises of his own so I think we're probably even. I'm damn glad Tony didn't end up with a sprained ankle like he did the last time I saw him play.

I grin remembering the wager Mike and Tony had made. I figured it would have been about who won. Instead they bet on which team would have the best combined heart rate. Made me puff out my chest just a little that Tony and I had the lowest. Guess my being the oldest guy out there didn't matter.

I grimace as I bend to pick up my bag. My quads are letting me know they didn't appreciate how I abused them yesterday. Damn. Was a time when I never got sore.

"You okay, Boss?"

"Never better." I smile. Not going to admit to anything else.

"I got some nice bath salts at my place," Tony says, not looking at me.

"Bath salts?"

"They help you to...relax."

I raise an eyebrow. "You think I need to relax?"

"No," Tony grins, "I think you are sore, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me saying so outright."

I cuff the back of his head. "Shaddup."

"That means I was right."

He doesn't quite sing that, but he comes pretty damn close. Makes me want to cuff him again, but he's already moving out of arms reach. Not worth chasing after him when I'm sure I'll have an opportunity to get him again later...probably have a new reason too.

I glance around the bedroom. Still bugs me to leave the bed unmade, but I managed to keep from doing it. I did strip it, left the sheets and comforter in a neat bundle on the trunk at the foot of the bed.

In the main room the fireplace is cold and dark. We restocked the small nearby bin with wood. Everything will be ready for laying a fire the next time we come back. That will probably be Christmas if everything goes okay. Momma C was rather firm about telling me she expected us to both attend Midnight mass with the rest of the family.

"Good thing I'm catholic," I mutter. Didn't realize I spoke loud enough for Tony to hear me or that he'd be following my thoughts so closely until he spoke.

"Wouldn't matter if you weren't, Boss."

"How so?"

"Dan's not Catholic and neither is Carol." Tony shrugs. "They go to Midnight mass too. Family thing more than a religious thing."

"Dan didn't have to convert when she and Sammy got married?"

"Nah." Tony shakes his head. "Church changed the rules on that stuff a long time ago."

I nod slowly. Shannon was Catholic when we got married so it never came up. And my other marriages were all justice of the peace things, not church weddings.

"You ready?"

"Yeah." I don't really want to leave, but it is time for us to go.

Some of my reluctance must have come across in my voice. He smiles gently and caresses my cheek with one knuckle. "Don't worry, Boss, place will be here when we need it again."

I smile at his emphasis on 'we'. Knowing he'd share this refuge with me means even more than being considered part of the Capanzini family. "Thank you."

I know he understands exactly what it is I'm thanking him for by the way his eyes glow for a moment. He drops his gaze shyly, looking away.

"C'mon." His smile is back in full force. "Mike's supposed to have my gift ready."

I am nearly a curious as Tony. Based on what I saw in Mike's workshop, whatever it is will certainly be a work of art. The man is very talented. It was an honor and a pleasure to be able to work with him even.

Tony secures the cabin door, making sure it is closed tightly against weather and wildlife alike. Given that I didn't lock my own door for years, the irony of me thinking the cabin needs a lock makes me chuckle silently. Course, I lock my door now...not going to risk having someone like Ari stroll casually into my house when Tony's there. His safety is too important. Don't want someone like the Director wandering in either. Tony's career matters too much to him for me to take it lightly. I can always retire and do okay---he doesn't have that option.

Walking to Mike's house is pleasant. The bright sunshine makes it seem warmer than it really is. I find myself wondering what this trek will be like with two feet of snow.

Tony grins at me. "Got cross country skis."

I laugh, shaking my head, as always a bit mystified by how well he reads me. "No snow shoes?"

"Tried that once." Tony snickers. "Fell down every three feet."

I grin. "I've heard there is a trick to those."

"Oh yeah." Tony shakes his head. "Most years the area doesn't get enough snow here anymore to really have to worry much about getting to and from the cabin." His expression turns rueful. "Not that I really get here in the winter very often."

Or the summer either for that matter, I can't help but think. I've read his file front to back to make sure I wasn't missing too many details any more. I know just how little time he's taken off. I'm hoping we can both find a way to use more of the vacation time we've got on the books. A few long weekends like this one were definitely a good start.

Tony locked the gate, sighing softly as he looked back up the trail. It isn't hard to tell he's feeling reluctant to leave as I am. Probably more so given what this place and the people here have meant to him for so long.

I reach out and rest my hand on the small if his back. Want him to know I'm there, I understand, but don't want to go overboard. It would only embarrass him. Tony wipes discretely at his overly bright eyes, giving me a quick smile.

"Thanks."

I nod. "You're welcome."

When he turns to continue walking to Mike's place I hold out a hand to him. He takes it, entwining our fingers. I squeeze his hand, and smile when he squeezes back. Funny how big a difference such a little thing can make.

We toss our bags into the trunk of his car before heading into the house. I have a feeling the back seat will be full of Tupperware dishes with food Momma C and Mike have packed for us. Gabe and Carol went home with a bunch too. Although, I doubt any of the cookies even lasted long enough to see them out of town. Both of them seemed to have voracious appetites when it came to Momma C's cookies.

"You think Momma C has any of those little almond cookies left?"

Tony laughs softly. "She said she'd make more just for you."

"Doesn't mean there are any left." Zeke likes them too. And while he's not as big an eater as his little brother and future sister-in-law, he's more than capable of putting a sizeable dent in any Momma C made.

"Don't worry. Momma C is used to dealing with her kids." Tony grins. "She'll have made Zeke's favorite too, and he won't get any if he touches yours."

"What about your favorite," I ask as we step up on to the porch. I hadn't actually seen him express any real preference for a particular sweet. As far as I could tell, as long as it was loaded with sugar Tony would eat it.

"Any thing she makes is my favorite," he says, confirming what I suspected.

Momma C is in the kitchen, making sure several containers are completely sealed when we walk in. She smiles warmly and says something in Italian that I recognize as a greeting. Tony responds, smiling back. She has to stretch up on the tips of her toes to place a kiss on each of his cheeks even when he bends over to make it easier. I am secretly thrilled when she gives me a kiss on each cheek too.

I force myself not to peek at what might be inside the Tupperware she left on the counter. In addition to almond cookies, I'm hoping for leftover turkey, and some of that broccoli salad stuff. Bound to be some of that in one of those---I hope.

Tony's attention is more focused on what's on the table. Mike didn't wrap his gift, which I think is the norm for these things; at least Sammy said it was. According to him, Mike had just shown up with his cedar chest and made him help unload it. Same with the dresser Mike refurbished for Gabe. Zeke's vase he'd shipped, so technically it was wrapped, but no fancy ribbons or shiny paper.

Mike clears his throat, drawing attention to where he's standing in the doorway that led to the den. He smiles and wags his eyebrows at Tony. "Well, go on. See what you think."

Tony grins, taking three long strides to the table. I follow behind, trying not to look quite as eager as Tony does. Pretty sure I fail at it if the looks Sammy and Zeke give me when they walk in from the living room are anything to go by.

Mike made what looks like a medium sized box; it is anything but plain or ordinary. The grain pattern of birds eye maple, edged with burled walnut make for a stunning contrast of light and dark, especially on the corners where the tongue and groove construction is visible. The satin smooth, high gloss finish just begs to be touched as it reflects the overhead lighting. But the real show piece is the circle inlay of exotic wood on the top that form a compass rose. I recognize the rosewood, striped ebony and purpleheart only because Mike had shown me samples of them earlier.

Tony's fingers barely touch it as they ghost over the top. He looks at Mike, green eyes glowing with obvious delight and appreciation. "There a trick to it?"

"Yep."

Tony grins, and his touch becomes more deliberate. I'm amazed when he turns the compass rose. It slides easily, rotating smoothly so that north and south are now reversed. A small click sounds and what appeared to be seamless construction reveals itself to be a lid.

Inside the box is velvet lined, and form fitted to hold two guns. There is space for Tony's main sidearm, his 9MM, and a spot for his smaller back up ankle piece. There is even a slot for a knife with its sheath, and a place for his badge.

"Thought you could do with a nice place to keep the tools of your trade," Mike says softly. "Something not so utilitarian, but still functional."

"I love it, Amico." Tony steps over to Mike and hugs him. "Grazie."

He says something else in Italian. I'm guessing it's praise for the gift. It really is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Makes me wish I had one of my own. The storage box I have for my handguns is the definition of utilitarian?dull gray and sturdy with an old fashioned lock to secure it. Rifles have a nicer place, but still not on par with what Mike made.

"Think you could make me one?" Sammy asks, fingers lightly caressing the sides of the box. Makes me smile to know I'm not the only one who's a little envious.

Mike snorts. "You have too many guns to fit in a box that size."

"Way too many guns," Dan says as she steps into the kitchen, patting Sammy on the shoulder. "Besides, we need a crib more than you need a gun cabinet."

Sammy grins, throwing an arm over her shoulder before placing a kiss in her hair. "That we do, Sweetheart, that we do."

"You two ready to head out then," Dan asks, looking from me to Tony.

Tony sighs. "Ready as we'll ever be."

"Not too long until Christmas," Mike reminds him, placing a kiss on each cheek. Mike gives me a solid handshake, and a warm smile. "You are both welcome to come back before then, if you want. You know where the key is."

"Thanks."

He leans in and whispers, "And if you happen to destroy that ugly little gnome, I will not be at all upset."

I laugh. "Not a chance." If Gipetto ends up in pieces it will because some one else made him that way. Not going to risk upsetting Momma C over some tacky bit of lawn art.

I get a handshake from Sammy too. "Fair winds."

"And following seas," I answer him.

Tony gets a breath stealing hug from Sammy and a cautionary, "Keep your head down."

Such advice shouldn't really be necessary. Not like we are actually in combat, but in combat the enemy is usually a little more obvious than some of the things we've run into. Don't find many he/she's or poisoned letters or serial killers with foot fetishes while in a war zone. And Tony's been hurt a lot on the job---get the feeling that isn't news to this family the way it might be to his blood relatives.

"I'll be careful." Tony's answer could have been considered flippant if not for his the look in his eyes when he makes eye contact with Sammy.

Dan hugs us both. Like Gabe, she isn't shy about showing her affection. She wipes at her eyes, but doesn't cry, smiling brightly at both of us.

Zeke hugs Tony hard, almost as though he doesn't want to let go, burying his face in Tony's shoulder. He did the same thing when he said goodbye to Gabe. Of everyone in the family, he seems the most affected by people leaving.

Tony says something to Zeke, too soft for anyone else to hear. The younger man laughs weakly, but lifts his head. He kisses both Tony's cheeks before pulling away.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Jethro," Zeke says, offering me his hand. Acting on impulse I pull him into a hug and tell him the pleasure was mine. The grin I get from him tells me I did the right thing.

Momma C hugs Tony again. "Be sure to eat," she tells him. "More than junk, si?"

"I'll eat," Tony says, kissing both her cheeks, "more than junk."

She hugs me, before cupping my face with both hands. "You remember to eat to, you hear me, si?"

I nod. It is easier to just agree. And it's not like I said how much or promised to eat any green leafy things. She tilts my face and kisses me on the forehead.

"You take care of my Antonio."

"I will."

"You take care of yourself too."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She nods. "You are a good man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

I can feel my face warm at her endorsement. Before I can say or do anything, Momma C turns to look Zeke and Sammy. "You boys help take the food to Antonio's car. Michael, do you have something soft to wrap your nice gift? It wouldn't do for it to be damaged before Antonio can use it."

A chorus of 'yes, momma' echoes around the room and people are motion. Never fails to impress me how quickly they snap to when she orders them to do something. She'd have made one hell of a drill sergeant except she never really raises her voice.

"If you ask her nice, she might tell you just how she does that," Tony whispers to me, grinning as we step outside.

"I can get my team to jump."

Tony snickers. "Sure, but not like she can."

I don't have an answer to that so I just cuff the back of his head. He laughs, uncowed and unrepentant. Wouldn't really want him to be any other way.

It's another round of goodbyes before we actually leave. Those are mercifully brief. There were no tears when Gabe and Carol left---and I am glad we are getting away without any too.

Food is in the back seat along with Mike's gift which is now wrapped in a bit of terry cloth. Gas tank is full. Tony filled it yesterday at the little convenience store just down the road.

Tony buckles is seat belt. "You ready to get back to the real world?"

For as much as I'm going to miss Mike and his family, and for all I enjoyed the time away from the office, I'm ready to get back to work. "Yeah." I give him a look as we pull out of the drive and head back to D.C. "You?"

"Fun to take a break but I miss the job." Tony grins. "Miss Abby. Miss harassing Probie and Ziva."

I take a sip from the coffee cup Sammy was kind enough to fill and put in the car. "Don't really miss Ducky's stories."

"But I do miss him." Tony holds out a hand and I take it. "And just think, he'll have a bunch of new stories to share."

I roll my eyes. "If that is supposed to be helpful?"

"Just honest." Tony laughs.

"You could work on being less honest."

"Could." But he isn't going to. He lets go of my hand and points to the back seat. "Cookies are on top. They'll go good with your coffee."

Like I actually need added incentive to get out the cookies. I reach around to grab the blue container on top. There must be five different kinds of cookies in it.

Tony sighs. "Now that is proof of love right there."

I arch an eyebrow. "I can't cook."

He leers at me. "You show your love in other ways." He does that little purring growl and I struggle not to shift in my seat. "You can show me when we get home."

Oh yeah. Definitely. Hell, if I play my cards right I might get a repeat of the trip down here---without having to fight before hand.

"You...ah...think you can find a secluded spot along on the way?"

He gives me a sly look. "For one of your cookies, I can."

I offer him the container. "Drive fast."

Tony laughs and floors it.