DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!

ONE LAST REQUEST

A/N: This was inspired by the "If Today Was Your Last Day" Challenge on NFA

The phone call that comes in the middle of the night never brings good news. It bodes of a new case, a call for help or the dreaded news that someone close to you is gone forever.

He thought the ringing was part of his dream, but it didn't mesh with the lovely vision he was admiring. It finally drew him awake as he groaned at the loss of the woman he wanted but could never have outside of his dreams.

His hand grabbed the phone pressing the button to stop the ringing and slowly held it to his ear as he pushed himself up against the headboard. "Hello," he answered wiping the sleep from his eyes and grimacing from the fatigue.

"Anthony DiNozzo, Jr.?" the caller asked.

Tony's blood chilled in its course. To be addressed as "Jr." meant somehow "Sr." had to be involved in whatever the untimely call pertained.

"Yes," he sat up straighter. His thoughts raced to guess the next words, yet at the same time fearing what he'd hear.

"My name is Carrie. I'm a nurse at Boston Memorial," her voice was kind, but Tony listened for the message behind the words certain that the nature of the call would not be as nice.

"Yes, Carrie," he shook his head not sure of his words. Was there some kind of etiquette for calls like this?

"Your father was admitted here late last night. We've been trying to stabilize him and thought you might like to come and see him."

Her suggestion filled him with dread. Only one reason to call him in at this hour was obvious. His father didn't have much time. Would he make it in time? Before his father was gone forever? Would he have a chance to speak to him? What would he say and would his father hear and understand him?

"I'm on my way," he said getting out of bed and preparing to leave. His emergency bag was already packed and stored in his car. After a quick shower, he dressed and called his boss to tell him he'd be away. He knew the two men didn't always get along, so he tried to keep it brief. Not normally a difficult task with Gibbs.

"Boss I'm not going to be in today," he began.

"What's up?" Gibbs asked sensing Tony's evasion.

"It's my dad," the senior agent breathed.

"Go," was all the lead agent said before ending the call after a moment of silence. It wasn't an angry ending, if anything Tony thought it might even have been quiet compassion on Gibbs' part.

On the road Tony sped along not too fast to draw unwanted attention, but still above the speed limit. He didn't want to be delayed by being pulled over. His thoughts flashed sporadically through time. Images came of his father in his younger days when he was happy and in love with his wife. Later years when it seemed all they did was say goodbye as his father left for some meeting or another. The fishing trip that had meant so much to him that he only recently discovered was cherished by his father as well.

He parked at the hospital and rushed to the entrance to get direction to his father's room in the ICU. It was bad, really bad. He waited impatiently by the elevator, cursing the passing seconds that kept him from getting to his father's bedside.

"Please don't let me be too late," he begged.

Finally the elevator arrived and he was being lifted to the floor containing ICU. Tony found the nursing station and asked, "Anthony DiNozzo, Sr.'s bed?"

Recognizing the fear and anxiety the nurse replied right away, "Bed 6. This way." She came around the counter to lead him to the room. The lights were dim and one patient seemed to resemble another as they walked along. Most hooked up to ventilators, all with lots of wires and tubes attached. She stopped when they reached Sr.'s bed.

"He's in and out of consciousness," she informed him.

"Will he live?" Tony asked the one question he needed the answer to most.

"We're doing everything we can," she answered non-committingly.

"Is his doctor around?" Tony asked not sure of the exact time or the doctor's rotation hours.

"I'll have her paged to let her know you're here," she offered.

Still out of sorts Tony thanked her and approached the still form under the white linen. The ventilator stood nearby but was currently in use. He wondered if his father had refused one. Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. wasn't the kind of man who would want to be intubated and relying on machinery to keep him alive.

His father was going to die. It wasn't an epiphany but a quiet whisper of knowledge. The once Italian toned skin on his father's face was now a white pallor. Laying in the bed his form looked shrunken. The man who could charm and commandeer a room with his presence was but a shell of himself.

"Hey Dad," Tony whispered maintaining the hushed tones around him. He took his fathers' hand that was limp and cool. His other hand he placed on the older man's forehead almost as if checking for a fever.

The light touch registered with the sleeping man as his eyes opened and tried to focus. Tony moved closer. "Junior," Sr.'s voice was barely audible so his son moved even closer. "I'm sorry Son," he choked and he managed to lightly squeeze his son's hand.

"Never apologize," Tony stated reflexively.

Aware of the rules the lead NCIS agent handed down to his team; Sr. shook his head, "Not my rule."

"I know Dad. I know," Tony held back his tears. "I'm sorry, too. I should've been a better son."

His father's face hardened, "NO you were a good son. You ARE a good son. I should've told you how proud of you I am." The words took a lot out of the older man and his eyes closed to rest again.

The nurse stopped by and checked on him giving him some medication in his IV. "The doctor is on her way in," she patted Tony's arm.

He nodded a silent reply. When she was gone he rested his head on his father's hand and let the tears escape. He stayed in that position until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Tony," the voice brought back memories and his dreams. Was he dreaming now?

He looked up to see her, not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. "Jeanne," he replied.

There was silence between them as they each dealt with the emotions and ghosts of their pasts. The irony didn't escape him that his father's life, no matter how tumultuous, lied in her hands, after she had accused Tony of murdering her father.

He spoke first, "How is he?"

"Critical. He had a heart attack though it seemed to be a mild one when he first arrived his condition has disintegrated since," she gave him more technical terms that he'd heard before but that didn't mean a whole lot to him.

"Bottom line, Doc?" he half smiled at his old nickname for her.

"He's refused mechanical support and any intervention. It doesn't look good," she looked at her patient wondering why he was so willing to give up the fight.

Tony nodded silently. He was struggling with insisting she do something, anything to save him while trying to accept his father's wishes to be honored. Jeanne stepped back to give the two men time to be alone. Her own emotions jumbled.

When she realized the patient was Tony's father her heartbeat quickened and she cursed herself for still felling so strongly about a man who admitted to using her to gain access and intelligence on her father. Who may not have been the one who pulled the trigger, but indirectly she believed caused his death.

She'd gotten her priorities straight and did all she could to keep her ex-lover's father alive despite his own lack of cooperation in the manner. Now seeing how distraught Tony looked she wanted nothing more than to hold him and soothe his worry and grief, even if he wouldn't appreciate it afterwards.

"Wait," Tony spoke so quietly she wasn't sure she heard him correctly until he reached out to take her hand. "Thank you," he frowned.

She smiled understanding what he couldn't say.

"It's my job," she stood erect not willing to give into her desires.

Tony released her hand and nodded with his head bowed. Taking the opportunity Jeanne left.

"Don't let her get away, Son," Sr.' frail voice reached his son's ears. "I loved foolishly. Don't let my example keep you from happiness."

Tony looked into his father's eyes. "There's too much damage done, Dad. Too much pain was delivered."

"Promise me," his father's voice faltered.

"What do you want me to promise?"

"Tell her you love her," Sr. gave Tony's hand a weak pat.

"Dad." Tony didn't want to argue with the limited time they had, but he didn't want to make a false promise either.

"Anthony," his father used his given name to make his point, "Do it."

Giving up the fight Tony agreed, "Okay I'll tell her. First though let me tell you. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Son," this time when his eyes closed it wasn't to sleep but to give up the fight to stay alive.

Tony hugged the man he'd only begun to really know as he left this world to places unknown. Let there be a Heaven, Tony prayed. The nurse came, Jeanne right behind her as they assessed all the vitals and charted the time of death.

Unaware they had even been there Tony let himself cry for all the wrongs he could never correct and all the plans that would never be finalized. Time seemed suspended eventually he pulled himself up and searched for Jeanne.

She was at the nursing station helping the nurse with the final details. Tony sidled to the counter not wanting to interrupt.

The nurse noticed him first and asked if she could get anything for him.

"Coffee," he needed some caffeine.

She left to retrieve it for him and he slumped on the counter. Hesitating Jeanne approached and eventually put her hand on his head. "We'll help you with the plans Tony," she tried to maintain her professionalism.

He lifted his head only enough to raise his eyes to see her. "I appreciate that." He pushed himself up to rest his elbows on the counter holding his head in his hands. Running his fingers through his hair he stood erect and rotated his head around to relieve the tension in his neck.

Jeanne could only watch not sure of anything else she could do or say. Words swirled in her mind, but none would come out.

"I need to tell you something," he was going to bite the bullet and tell her now before he lost his chance.

"What is it?" she asked wondering if he needed something.

"It was real," he looked her straight in the eye. He'd done the same when he told her it wasn't. This time he hoped she'd see the truth not the lie he thought he needed her to believe back then.

Jeanne's eyes misted and her face hardened. Not sure if he was toying with her, though there was no gain to be made now. "Why?" she choked.

Taking a deep breath he took her hand in both of his beseeching her to hear the honesty in his voice. "It's a long story. One I'd love to take the time to tell you. But I denied my feelings because it was a job. And then when you learned the truth you wanted me to choose. I can't not be who I am Jeanne."

"I realize that. It took all this time apart to figure out who I loved at the time. When you told me none of it was real, I truly hated you. Work became my obsession and I put all the pain behind me. Still I could never forget you. Memories would pop up unwarranted and I could sense an honesty in you. I didn't want to be wrong in my feelings for you. Because when the hatred dwindled, I couldn't deny I still loved you."

Tony was amazed listening to all that poured out from Jeanne. Always a woman who acted from her heart he embraced her and held her tight. "I want to give us another try," he told her.

She pulled back slightly, so she could look into his face. "Tony, you aren't thinking too clearly. You suffered a loss only a few moments ago. If we're going to try again, it has to be when you're ready. I'll help you however I can, but from a distance," she had to know his reasons weren't a reaction from his father's death.

Tony moved his hands from her shoulders down her arms to take her hands. He looked at their hands and chuckled. "My father never did have the best timing."

She pulled a hand free to rest it against his cheek, "That's not fair."

"No. It's not. He did help me admit to myself what I've been regretting since I saw you last."

Jeanne leaned her head to the side and regarded her former lover. She had seen him struggle throughout their relationship. Holding back even when she was more than willing to move on to the next level. It was the one thing she couldn't understand. If he had really only been using her why wouldn't he have taken advantage of the first opportunity to move in and get her at her weakest.

Even when he did finally take her to bed it was honest; she didn't doubt it. So now she had to decide. Too much time had passed. Too much space lay between them. If she could trust him, believe him, she would have to decide.

Tony poured every ounce of his honest emotions into his words and actions. He knew he'd hurt her, deeply. Words that he couldn't take back and a deception that he'd only half played. He watched her process everything. Her eyes showing what her mind was struggling to piece together.

He licked his lips and stared into her green eyes, "Jeanne," he got her to focus on his eyes. Staring into each other's souls he said intently, "I love you."

She saw it then. He bared himself and she knew he was telling her the truth. She let him pull her into his arms and kiss her, not a crushing desperate kiss, but on that was soft and searching for the love they once shared.

His lips trembled feeling her return the kiss and he pulled her closer, her head against his chest. He rested his head on hers. He let his sorrow escape once more for the loss of the man who in his dying moments became the father he'd needed with the words of wisdom he needed to hear.

Their journey was only beginning, but it was journey that they both were willing to venture on together.