A/N: Yes, this is part seven of my Road Trip series. It is still AU, and you might be surprised at Tony's situation. It starts up two years after the previous road trip (which, if you recall, ended with Tony planning on proposing to his girlfriend, Jo). Life is moving on and their lives are getting more complicated, but the road trip is still important.

Disclaimer: I still don't own NCIS or its characters, but I have loved playing with them.

The Measure of a Journey
by Enthusiastic Fish

"A journey is best measured in friends rather than miles." – Tim Cahill

Chapter 1

"Well, that's enough for today," Tim said, standing and stretching. "We've been staring at this stuff for hours. Go home. We'll see if it makes more sense tomorrow."

"I doubt it will," Weston said. "You can't figure it out. Maren can't figure it out, and if you two can't, then, Sarah and I can't. Maybe it really is just gibberish."

"Well, that would still be figuring it out, now wouldn't it," Tim said.

Sarah chuckled and then rubbed her eyes.

"I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop right out of my head."

She widened her eyes as much as possible, staring at Maren with a wicked grin.

"Ew! Gross image!" Maren protested.

Sometimes, Tim felt like he was in charge of kids, not adults. He just shook his head.

"I think everyone's IQ is falling. Let's get that stopped. Go home. See you tomorrow."

"See ya, Boss," Weston said, with a wink.

"Don't call me that, Weston," Tim said, but without any real irritation. "You know my name. First and last. I'll even let you pick which one you use."

With that, everyone started packing up to leave. It seemed like Weston's departure triggered everyone else's. Tim wasn't sure what had set that up as a pattern, but it was there. If Weston left, everyone left. Sometimes, Tim even found himself following along. He grabbed his bag and headed out of the building, ready to go home and see his family before they were in bed.

"Hey, Tim."

Tim paused and turned back, surprised to see Weston following him out.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't like being called Boss, do you."

"Not particularly," Tim said. "It doesn't hurt my feelings. Don't worry about it."

"But you don't like it. I've just been teasing, but..."

Tim smiled. "Weston, stop worrying about me so much. You're like a mother hen, sometimes. I know how to take care of myself. I'm a big boy."

"Hey, maybe you just didn't realize it, but you were looking really bad before your kids were born, and you didn't look a whole lot better when you first came back. You were stressed out. Majorly stressed out." Weston shrugged a little, looking a little uncomfortable, actually. "When that whole... thing... went down..."

Tim nodded. He still didn't like talking about when Allison Jenkins had been killed. Everyone knew it, and they generally respected his wishes.

"You hid it from everyone, and the explosion afterwards... It came out of nowhere. Then, it was like you went from everything being completely fine to worrying about your wife dying or something. Tim, I've seen people burn out before. It's not pretty, and you don't deserve to go through that, but you're pretty good at hiding things, especially from us because you seem to think you shouldn't show anything complicated. You're getting better at letting us know you're a human being, but you still hide things. So I'm going to be nosy to make sure that my team lead doesn't suffer through something he shouldn't have to deal with."

Tim smiled a little, but in a different way. Weston hadn't ever really let up on his concern for his boss, but since Tim really had been doing well, there had been little reason to bring it up. Now...

"You know that I was on Gibbs' team before I got my own."

"Yeah. Everyone knows that. Scuttlebutt."

Tim nodded. "I used to call him Boss when I was on his team. When other people call me that... well, it reminds me of him. And you and Sarah both used to call me that sometimes before and it wasn't a problem. Since everything with..." Tim forced himself to say the name. "...Allison Jenkins, I haven't really wanted to be associated with Gibbs. It's not the compliment I used to think it was."

"Then, I won't say it anymore."

"Thanks, Weston."

Weston shrugged again. "Gotta keep the team lead happy. Otherwise, he might ship me off somewhere else."

"Not a chance. Now, I'm going home."

"See you tomorrow, Tim."

"Bye, Weston."

Tim walked to his car and was happy to leave work at work and get back to his family. He drove as quickly as he could. He was always glad to get home. He parked and walked into the house.

"I'm home!" he called.

"Da!"

"Daddy!"

Esther and Evelyn both ran into the front room, racing to get to him first. Esther won, as she usually did, but Evelyn was only seconds behind. Tim grabbed them both and picked them up, giving them kisses.

"Hey! Love you!" Tim said.

He spun them around in circles and they both screeched with delight.

"What is all that racket?"

Tim stopped and grinned as Delilah wheeled into the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tim said. "We were quiet as mice. Right, girls?"

"Mice!" Evelyn shouted.

Esther just giggled.

"Well, you're the loudest mice I've ever heard," Delilah said.

Tim leaned over, still holding the twins and kissed Delilah soundly.

"You're home early," she said.

"We'd been staring at the same computer screen all day with no progress. I decided that there was no point in staying late to keep doing the same thing. No one protested."

"As if they would. Well, dinner isn't quite ready yet."

"That's fine. Where's Tommy?" Tim asked, putting the girls down.

"In his room," Delilah said, significantly.

"What's going on?"

"He got in trouble at school today. First time the whole school year. His teacher sent a note home. I asked him if he wanted to talk to you or to me about it and he wanted to talk to you."

"Okay. What happened?"

Delilah rolled into the kitchen. Tim followed her while Evelyn and Esther ran happily into the living room and began playing with the blocks. There was a note on the counter, and Delilah handed it to him.

Tim looked at it and grimaced.

"So is he in his room because of you or because of him?"

"Because of him," Delilah said and smiled a little. "He only went in there about half an hour ago. He said he wanted to be ready for when you got home."

"Okay. How long until dinner?"

"Probably about twenty minutes. I haven't even got the water going for the pasta yet."

"Okay. I'll go and talk to him."

Tim put his gun away, took off his badge and went into Tommy's room. Tommy was sitting on his bed, staring at him. He must have been waiting. A pile of books was on the bed as well, so he'd been using his time.

"Hey, Tommy," Tim said, sitting down beside him. "What happened today?"

"I pushed Jon down," Tommy said.

"Did you say you were sorry?"

"No! I wasn't!"

"Why not?"

"He said bad things."

"What did he say, Tommy?" Tim asked.

"He said bad things about you."

"About me?"

"About cops! You're a cop!"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"He said that cops are bad and they kill people. He said his daddy said that and so it had to be true. You're not bad, Daddy!" Tommy said, earnestly.

"I know that, Tommy."

"But you thought you were bad and it hurt you. I didn't want you to think you were bad again! You're not! So I told him to shut up, and he said he didn't have to. So I pushed him and he ran into the swings and I got in trouble. Are you mad at me, Daddy?"

Then, Tommy hugged him and Tim felt his heart clench as he thought back to that time. He had never realized how much Tommy had internalized from when he had been so angry and hurt, and it hurt him anew to know that Tommy was afraid of that happening again.

He hugged Tommy back and then faced him and looked him in the eye.

"Tommy, it's not right to push people when they say something you don't like."

"But..."

"No, Tommy. What you should have done was tell your teacher and then just stay away from Jon if you don't want to play with him."

"He shouldn't say that! It's wrong!" Tommy protested.

"Some cops aren't always nice, Tommy. Maybe his dad met one of those. He didn't have to be talking about me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Mrs. Zilles says that she's not happy that I pushed Jon."

"That's because you don't usually do that, Tommy. It doesn't mean you're bad, but you made a bad choice. Now, do you know what you'll have to do?"

Tommy shook his head.

"What do you have to do when you make your sisters cry?"

"I have to say sorry," Tommy said, staring hard at the bed.

"Okay. So what will you have to do tomorrow?"

"Say sorry to Jon."

"That's right. But I'll go with you to talk to Mrs. Zilles, okay?"

"Really? But you go early!"

"I'll just have to be late tomorrow. We'll go to school and I'll talk to Mrs. Zilles. Then, you'll need to say that you're sorry to Jon. You don't have to play with him if you don't want to, but you should say sorry for hurting him. All right?"

"Okay," Tommy said, reluctantly. "Am I in trouble here?"

Tim smiled. "As long as you don't do that again..."

"I won't!"

"All right. Then, that's it."

Tommy chanced looking up at him.

"Can we play?"

"It's almost dinnertime. Why don't we go and help Mommy set the table. You can choose the plates."

Tommy still loved to do that. He perked right up and ran out of his room into the kitchen, Tim following close behind.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"When are you going to tell him, Tony?" Jo asked.

"You're beginning to sound like a broken record, Jo," Tony said, trying to be busy at the stove.

It didn't work. Jo was baby free at the moment and the twins they were fostering (and hoping to adopt) were actually doing homework.

"That's because you keep ignoring me and you keep ignoring the fact that you made a big mistake in not telling Tim a month ago."

"It's not a big deal."

"Oh, really?" Jo asked. "You've been in such a funk for the last month that even Sam noticed and he's only three months old. If you keep it up, Grace and Daniel will start to notice and they think everything in the world revolves around them."

Tony smiled. "They're teenagers. What do you expect?"

"Not quite. They have another year before that's official."

"Did anyone tell them that?"

Jo shook her head.

"You're dodging the question, Tony. When are you going to tell him?"

"I don't think I need to tell him at all. It's not like he'll think to ask."

"Aren't you going on your little road trip this summer?"

"Probably."

"You should go. You should call him and set it up and go."

"Not until school's out. Tim won't let Tommy miss. He's way too responsible."

"Well, we both know that you'll need time to plan it anyway."

Jo grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him down to her level so he had to look at her.

"Tony, it's okay to admit that you're upset. It doesn't matter if it's logical. Emotions aren't logical. They just aren't. Just ask Grace. She's so chock full of emotions that I'm surprised she even acknowledges that the word logical exists. The longer you put off telling Tim, the worse it will be. I may not know Tim as well as you do, but I know him well enough to know that he's going to be upset that you didn't say anything."

Tony straightened and turned back to the stove, making sure that the sauce didn't burn.

Jo's grip on his arm turned into a comforting pat.

"Maybe it'll help you, too," she said. "Isn't that what you've always said about these road trips? They're never just about the trip. They're always about something more."

"It hasn't been about more for me for a long time," Tony said, softly. "Tim's got plenty on his plate."

"And he's eating it up. He loves it," Jo said, smiling gently.

"Are you sure you want me to take off and leave you with all three kids? Maybe even four if they really do give us Grace and Daniel's little brother."

"I can handle it, and if I can't, I'll make my mom come and help me out. She keeps saying that she wants more time with the grandkids. This is your guy thing. You haven't had a chance to do it since Delilah had the twins and we got married and started fostering. You need this little trip. Just call him."

"Not right now. I'm making dinner," Tony said, knowing he was just putting it off.

"If you want to hide this from Tim, then, you'd better do the calling because if I call, I'll say something."

Tony turned away from the stove again and saw that determined look in Jo's eye. He knew that he couldn't change her mind when she got like that. He'd seen it for the first time when she had nixed the idea of a big wedding. She had wanted to have it at her parents' house, with just a simple ceremony and only family and close friends in attendance. No big party. No drunken reveling.

"Fine. Later," Tony said.

"When is later?"

"Tonight. Before I go to bed."

"Okay. Don't burn the sauce," she said and smiled.

Tony rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. Privately, he knew that Jo was right, but he also felt that he was right. There was no reason Tim had to know. There was no reason to give Tim anything else to worry about. He might be enjoying his life, but he always had something weighing him down just a little bit. Tony didn't see that his job was to make Tim carry more weight. It was to help him carry less. Therefore, no reason to say anything. None at all.

But the road trip... Well, it was true that they'd been planning on doing this for a while. Tony could admit that life had been getting in the way of thinking about it. He and Jo had thought long and hard about starting a family. Because of the work Jo did, she saw far too many dysfunctional and outright nonfunctional families and she felt she had to do her part to mitigate those situations. Tony hadn't been sure about getting involved in foster care, but Grace and Daniel had been with them for over a year now and their little brother Ivan was possibly going to join them in the next month or two with the idea that, eventually, they'd be able to adopt all three of them. Tony just hoped that it would all work out well. They'd had a couple of false starts. Jo getting pregnant had been a bit of a surprise, but that had worked out, too. Tony figured that they had enough kids now. He'd gone from being a bachelor to a father way too quickly.

Maybe a vacation like this would be good for him. And it was true that they'd planned on going. Tony would suggest that they take Daniel, but with nothing quite settled in the whole adoption process, he didn't want to risk anything getting spoiled. He'd heard horror stories about people who lost kids because they were told incorrectly that they could take a child on vacation and then got accused of kidnapping. Daniel probably wouldn't feel comfortable going on a trip without Grace at this point anyway. He still suffered from anxiety and why make it worse?

Well, he'd call and see what Tim had to say.

With Jo's threat hanging over his head, what else could he do?

The sauce looked perfect. He poured it over the cooked noodles, added a bit more cheese and then popped it in the oven to get nice and bubbly.

"Okay!" he called out. "Grace, it's your turn to set the table! Dinner will be ready in ten minutes!"

"Didn't I set the table yesterday?" came the protesting cry.

"No, I did!" Jo said loudly enough to be heard.

"Your turn, Grace!"

There was a melodramatic sigh and then heavy feet. Tony spared a moment to wonder why they had wanted to jump right into raising teenagers. At least with younger kids you could ease into it, kind of sneak in the back door and maybe stave off the drama for a little bit longer. Grace and Daniel were now twelve years old and they were way too much like teenagers already.

Grace came into the kitchen.

"You know the drill, Grace," Tony said with a smile.

"We could just eat sitting on the couch, you know," Grace groused. "This whole sitting around the table thing is way too..."

"Family-like?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Grace looked at him and then at the plates. He knew that she was still struggling with the idea of having a permanent home. After spending most of her life being dragged around and then abandoned, she was still a little wary of trusting that it wasn't going to be her lot again. Tony patted her on the back. It was when he saw that look in her eye that Tony just wanted to be her dad.

"Get to it," he said, gently.

"Okay."

No further protest which was certainly rare enough to be treasured.

How did I become so paternal? Tony wondered to himself.

But he'd always wanted to be paternal, so even if it wasn't as he'd thought it would be, he was still getting what he wanted.

Then, suddenly Sam started wailing, upset about something.

"Right. I'm getting what I wanted," he muttered to himself.

Right.