Tony finds out he has a 7-year-old son, when the mother comes to him with a final request.

This is my first fanfiction story… ever.

I do not own NCIS… obviously.

Tony Dinozzo entered the NCIS building with his trademark grin on his face. As usual, his hair was perfectly groomed, and he wore an expensive suit and his favorite Gucci shoes. His best friend, Jimmy Palmer (a.k.a Autopsy Gremlin—the nickname Tony jokingly bestowed upon him), was sitting at his desk, waiting for him. A smile lit on Jimmy's face, when he spotted his friend. Across the semi-enclosed area, Ziva, Tony's partner sat smirking. "You are late, Dinozzo." She remarked, her exotic, Israeli accent punctuating each word. Tony sidled up to her desk and just grinned.

"Yes," he said. "But Gibbs isn't here. He doesn't know."

Jimmy interrupted the pair's flirting session. "Tony! Hey, you want to go see a movie tonight? Ziva, you can come to if you want."

"Sure, Jimbo!" Tony replied, just as one Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked in the room.

"Dinozzo!" the man barked. "You're late. It's 7:45, you were supposed to be here 15 minutes ago."

"Sorry, Boss. You see there was this accident on the highway, and so there was all this traffic; I didn't even have time to…" Gibbs head- slapped Tony, effectively cutting off the rambling that was to come. Jimmy winced for his friend, and started toward the elevator. He needed to get down to autopsy before Ducky arrived. Ziva just continued to smirk.

Suddenly, Tony's cell phone began to ring. "Very special Agent Dinozzo," Tony greeted.

"Tony?" A quiet voice questioned.

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Alexandria. Do you remember me?"

"Alex, of course. How are you?"

"Tony, can we meet. It's urgent."

"Sure," Tony replied, confused as to why his ex-girlfriend (who he hadn't been on pleasant terms with when they broke up almost eight years prior) was calling him.

"How about tonight? Your place. I'll meet you there, 8:00. I need to go now. Bye Tony."

Ziva looked at Tony's perplexed face. "Who was that, Tony?" she questioned, eager for juicy gossip details. "Angry ex-girlfriend. Or angry ex-boyfriend?" She said teasingly.

"Haha, Zi-VAH. I only leave satisfied exes."

"Aha, so you admit to the boyfriends!"

"Wha-what!" Tony sputtered. He hadn't really been paying attention to her questions, to busy wondering why Alex had called after so long.

"Hey!" Gibbs barked. Hanging up the cell phone he had also been on. "We've got a dead marine at Quantico. Call Ducky."

Tony smiled; he was glad to have a distraction until the meeting tonight (dead marine aside). Otherwise he'd probably be completely sidetracked all day by the unexpected call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NCIS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 7:30. The case had been simple; an angry lover had found her husband cheating on her. Murder ensued, blah, blah, blah. Tony was just glad he was done in time to meet with Alex. Despite the case, Tony's mind had been on Alex. What did she want? Why the call after so long? His obvious disinterest in the case resulted in many questions from Ziva and even more head-slaps from Gibbs.

Now, a mere five minutes from home, Tony was actually a bit nervous. He and Alex had been very serious back in the day, but a fairly nasty break-up had caused a lot of friction between the two, and they hadn't talked since.

Climbing up the stairs to his apartment, Tony was shocked to see a very fragile Alex and a young boy sitting on the floor waiting. "Hey," Tony said gently, helping her up, "you don't look so good. Why don't you come inside?"

Opening the door, Tony helped the woman sit on the couch. The boy just stared at him suspiciously.

"Timmy," the woman addressed the boy. "This is Tony. Remember I was telling you about him?"

Large green eyes stared into Tony's. "Hi there Timmy," Tony said. "How old are you?"

"Almost eight." the boy replied shyly.

Tony's eyebrows rose a bit. The boy didn't look a day older than five.

Suddenly, Alex spoke up. "Tony, is there somewhere I could speak to you alone?"

"Err, sure." Tony said. "We can talk in my bedroom."

They entered the bedroom, Alex looking frailer than ever. "Just like you to take the girl right to your room, Tony," she wheezed, deep breaths sounding painful in her chest.

"Alex?" Tony asked worriedly, "Are you okay. You don't sound so good. Are you okay?"

"Tony, listen to me. I don't have long. This is my third bout with cancer. Timmy, he's your son. I'm dying; I don't have anyone to take care of him. He has special medical needs. He would do terribly in a group home. He's so smart too." She stopped and gasped for breath, "Tony, please. Promise me. Promise you'll take care of him."

Tony looked at her, shocked. "Me? A dad? No, no, that's impossible." As he heard her gasp again, Tony came to his senses. "Alex, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No! Promise me." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Promise, Tony. No foster homes. Promise."

"I-I promise." Tony said. With that, Alex breathed her last.

"Shit!" Tony exclaimed. Pulling off her jacket, Tony began CPR. So focused on the rescue breaths and the chest compressions, he didn't notice the small boy enter until he spoke.

"Is-is she dead?" Timmy's voice wavered as he tried to look brave.

Tony stopped with the CPR. He already knew it would be useless. Quickly, he pulled a sheet over the dead woman.

"Hey, buddy," Tony said softly, bending down so he could see eye-to-eye with the child. "Yeah, she is. I'm so sorry."