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Tony wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened, but he was just as shocked as anyone when a lawyer had shown up at Tony’s house, an older couple and two little boys in tow. All those years ago, it turned out Tony’s sperm hadn’t been destroyed, but one couple had picked his sample, and had twins.
When the couple had died in a plane crash that the boys hadn’t been involved in, a complex set of legal matters arose. Sure, Tony had been asked when he’d donated if he’d authorize his records to be unsealed, as long as he was contacted and allowed to agree or deny any request. With his say so, and any recipients or their parents could contact Tony for any information on his medical records and history, or just to meet donor 91-7803.
When the sperm bank had contacted him recently, with a specific request, backed by a letter from a family lawyer, he hadn’t known quite what to think. He’d talked it over with Gibbs and they had agreed to a fact-finding mission. Tony had expected to maybe get acquainted with an adult child and parents, but what had happened was anything but a routine meeting.
Agreeing to release his personal information had set everything into motion, changing Tony’s life. And Gibbs’ too.
The grandparents—quite elderly—hadn’t been able to take care of the twins. The boys’ parents had no siblings, and the parents themselves had been huge advocates for adoption, sperm donation, and all things infertility. Turned out the father had been an IVF specialist.
So, Tony and Gibbs, after several months of getting to know the family, multiple chats with family-court judges, social workers, and the obligatory DNA tests, were the guardians to Tony’s biological seven-year-old twins—Robby and Jimmy. Who were more than eager to explore their first Halloween as DiNozzos.
Robby was a little taller and rangier than his twin, with blue eyes that reminded Tony of Senior. But the boy was as quiet as Gibbs at times, a good student, a decent athlete with a rapier-sharp wit that brought forth some of Tony’s best one liners. Jimmy was the prankster, blonder, a bit stockier. He had Tony’s grin and Tony’s best people skills in action. He loved to dance, to run around chasing down balls Tony’d pitch to him. They complemented each other as much as Gibbs and Tony did. In a strange way, they were a perfectly matched set, embodying the best of Tony and Gibbs in little seven-year-old balls of energy packages.
Tony had been worried how the eighty-something grandparents—and the boys—might take to Tony and Gibbs together as a couple. It hadn’t been any big deal to the boys, and the grandmother had revealed—in between baking cakes and feeding them huge sumptuous meals—that she was glad Tony had a solid relationship with someone who adored him so. The boys had been relieved when the grandparents had moved from Ohio to a senior apartment complex a few miles away. Sundays were spent with them, giving the boys a combination of family new and old. Both grandparents seemed to genuinely like Gibbs and Tony, which made the transition all the easier.
The team had taken to the kids well and the boys had bonded tightly with Abby and McGee. Jimmy and Breena were spending a lot of time with them, in preparation for their own child—their surrogate about to give birth any day now. And Uncles Ducky and Fornell kept the boys entertained for hours.
Life was pretty damn good, if unexpected. And this Halloween had to be a special one for the family Gibbs-DiNozzo.
“So, what’s the plan?” Gibbs asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was in that comfortably worn USMC sweatshirt Tony loved to burrow into—damn the no excessive PDA rule Gibbs had enacted after Robby had walked in on them kissing in the hall, hands everywhere. The kid had just said “I hate honeybears,” whatever that meant, and had escaped to his room. He’d flushed bright red for the entire next day, while Jimmy had busied himself making dramatic kissing sounds every time Gibbs—or Tony—entered a room.
Tony shook his head, clearing it and watching the sensual curve of Gibbs’ mouth as his lover sipped slowly from a cup of his jet-fuel-strength coffee. The boys were at the table, plates of food empty except for a few streaks of yolk and one lonely toast crust on Robby’s plate, juice glasses—orange for Jimmy, white grape for Robby—almost done. Tony’d finished his bagel and hazelnut coffee a few minutes ago, and Gibbs…well, Gibbs had eaten when he’d gotten up at oh six hundred.
“Yeah, Dad, what’s the plan?” Jimmy asked, giving Tony that grin that always made Tony wonder what hell he was planning. The boys had immediately started calling Tony “Dad”, which had delighted Gibbs. Privately, Tony wondered if Gibbs could have handled being called the name, or if the ghost of Kelly calling him dad would have always echoed. “Pop” seemed to work much better for Gibbs, who had become every bit a father to the boys as Tony had.
Tony cocked his head, studying Jimmy until the boy squirmed, looking away. He’d been planning something all right, maybe even dwarfing the candy-corn-eating contest he’d convinced Robby to do with him last night. Robby had won, and Jimmy had pouted before Gibbs had sent both kids to bed with stomach aches, their little bodies vibrating from sugar highs, three bags of candy corn consumed.
“I know!” Robby declared, and Tony turned his gaze to their usually more serious boy, who suddenly let out a grin that lit up the room.
“What’s that?” Gibbs asked, sliding across the floor to stand next to Tony, his body heat and scent doing things to Tony that had no business happening in front of the boys. Tony barely bit back a growl, but something quiet emerged and Gibbs chuckled. “Easy, Tiger.”
Tony shook his head, not tearing his gaze away from Robby.
“We’re going to carve pumpkins, right? Two teams. I get Pop!”
“Not fair. Pop is better with a knife.” When Tony mock glared at Jimmy, his son sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I get Dad!”
“And then maybe we can figure out costumes?” Tony suggested.
Halloween was a big deal to any young boy, and Abby had promised to help customize any off the shelf things they wanted. These were two creative kids, and the things they’d suggested so far were pretty spectacular, not to mention hard to create. Jimmy had his heart set on being a minion from Despicable Me, or the solar system, or Gibbs’ muscle car, or a very graphic zombie in the act of eating his brother, or, or or… At least Robby had some more staid ideas, including dressing as Palmer, which had thrilled him, though drawing and designing his own monster was an inspired choice.
“Already decided,” Robby announced, looking a little shy.
“What’s that, son?” Gibbs asked gently. There was a seriousness in Robby’s voice that even had Jimmy stilling and turning to look at his brother.
“You,” Robby said in barely more than a whisper.
“Me?” Gibbs asked, brows drawing in.
“Both of you,” Jimmy replied. “We could go all bloody and stuff but we wanna be our dads. Like real heroes. Like you.”
“NCIS agents,” Robby announced, and Tony found himself reaching for Gibbs’ hand and squeezing it. This was…unexpected. “Abby said she’d sew the logos on…” He trailed off, chewing on his lower lip and leaning in toward his brother. “Did we make you mad?”
“No!” Tony exclaimed, realizing his voice was raspy, and his eyes were hot and full of tears. “No, boys. I…”
“We’re honored,” Gibbs said, rescuing him. Tony trailed behind as Gibbs crossed the room and bent down, hugging the boys. “What a great Halloween present, don’t’cha think, Dad?” When Gibbs looked up at him, Tony could only nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak until he got himself under control.
Things had been good—great—with Jethro. After Ziva had left the team, and after all that meant, he and Gibbs had resumed their relationship, a little wiser, a little sadder, but regaining strength. They hadn’t been a couple for five years without some ups and downs, but having the boys in their life had completely transformed them from lovers to a family.
And Tony couldn’t be happier.
“Last one to the car gets smeared with pumpkin guts,” he called out and the boys scrambled to their feet, thundering to the hall closet to snatch their coats from the coat rack by the front door. Not a lot had changed with the foyer physically—though a lock had been added to the front and back doors now that they had such precious gifts residing inside. Yet the little coats, the small sneakers and shoes in the front hall, the artwork on the fridge, the sound of childish laughter, and sometimes tears, The house felt alive now.
“Well played,” Gibbs said, his own voice raspy. He did that Gibbs thing where he seemed to transport himself across the room to the sink area in a second, his own eyes glistening, his own voice raspy. He clearly needed a little space and Tony turned away from the boys and looked at Gibbs, a sidelong glance rather than watching his lover head on.
“You okay?” Tony knew their first holidays with the boys would bring forth some heavy stuff in Gibbs, and he tried not to talk about it or acknowledge it directly, though they both knew it was there.
Kelly and Shannon were all over the house, little touches of them that the boys and Tony had encouraged Gibbs to bring out. It helped that the boys wanted to know about their sister, and despite their young ages, they chose their moments very wisely. Gibbs had been more open than Tony had ever seen him, and maybe it was because he backed off and gave the boys and Gibbs this without him being a part of it. Gibbs would share what he was able to, and Tony would gladly accept anything Gibbs felt he could tell Tony about his wife and daughter. They were sacred and Tony acknowledged that.
He was also comfortable enough in his relationship with Gibbs to back off and let Gibbs have his own connection with the boys. They each had their things—Tony teaching them the best movies, Gibbs teaching them how to whittle. It was one of the first relationships Tony didn’t feel any urge to compete in. He and Gibbs had separate but equal interests with the kids.
“I’m good,” Gibbs replied, breaking into Tony’s thoughts. While Tony had been deep in thought, Gibbs seemed to have regained control, and he was standing next to Tony again, thumb rubbing over the back of Tony’s hand. He focused in on Gibbs’ long, blunt fingers, knowing that while they could shape wood, they could also gently brush away tears from upset children. Their sons.
"Yeah, Tony, I’m better than good. All of this…” Gibbs trailed off and gestured to the table and the plates one of them should have insisted the kids put in the sink. “More than I ever thought.”
“Me too.” Tony sighed and leaned against his lover, snuggling in for a moment of forbidden PDA, his mouth against the pulse point of Gibbs’ throat. “I never thought I wanted kids, but now…” He whispered the words against Gibbs’ throat, as if saying them too loudly might destroy the life they’d created with the unexpected, but adored, twins.
“Couldn’t imagine life without ‘em?” Gibbs said over the playful shoving match going on in the hallway. “Boys!” he called out as Robby stumbled against the front door.
“Sorry, Pop!” Jimmy said, looking anything but, a pure classic DiNozzo smirk on his face. He kicked at his brother’s ankle and Robby slugged him in the arm.
“Take after you, DiNozzo. Let’s get some pumpkins so they can destroy the kitchen even more. Maybe we should get enough for McGee, Abby, Breena and Palmer.”
“Get one for Ducky too, and he can tell us all about the history of pumpkin picking and all the different types. He’ll probably have twenty pumpkin pie recipes.” Tony rolled his eyes, his mouth watering at the thought. Between Ducky and the boys’ grandmother, who was an amazing cook, they’d no doubt have the best pumpkin pies on the block.
“And call Randall and Stephanie. They should be here too.” Gibbs winked. “I’m sure Stephanie has time to make one of her fantastic desserts if we figure out a pot-luck lunch.”
Tony pulled out his phone, sending a group text to the team, and one to the boys’ grandparents. “Pumpkin wars, starting now! I’m going to cream you, Gibbs.”
“No losers, only winners here.”
And as Tony watched the boys scrambling to get through the front door, he knew he couldn’t agree more.
“Love this,” Tony admitted, his phone binging again and again. He glanced down at it, smiling as he read each message. “They’ll all be here, Abby’s bringing cider, Ducky will make lunch, Stephanie’s bringing apple crisp. This is pretty close to perfect.”
“Know that,” Gibbs shot back. “You’re gonna look great with pumpkin guts in your hair.”
“Noble sacrifice,” Tony replied. “Now let’s get some pumpkins.”
“On it,” Gibbs shot back with a grin, pulling Tony in for a deep kiss.
“Ew! They’re kissing again. I hate honeybears and now we’re never going to get pumpkins.”
“Enough, Robby,” Gibbs shot back, pulling away. Tony knew he had to look just as hazy as his lover did, and there was something that was definitely not kid friendly threatening to rise to the occasion. He glanced down and then back to Tony’s eyes, meeting his expression with one of abject love that made Tony’s heart squeeze and then swell.
“Never enough,” Tony managed to force out through a suddenly clogged throat, trusting that Gibbs knew he meant a hell of a lot more than his lover’s drugging kisses.
“Never enough.” Gibbs and the boys chorused.