"You're my brother. I'm your brother," said Cris, "That's why I got sent away. I'm sorry, Tony."
"I-I guess Senior did it for Mom," Tony managed eventually, "Didn't want her to know."
"What?" asked Cris, "Did what for Mom?"
"Sent you away somewhere. And Cris, I'm really sorry about that. I guess he decided that Mom shouldn't know … and he might have … I don't know, been wary about upsetting Mom's family. They wouldn't have been pleased to know about … well, you know."
As Tony absorbed Cris's shocking revelation he realised that although he was shocked, he was also at the same time not completely surprised: the idea that Senior might have fathered more than one child had always been lurking at the back of his mind. The notion of Senior being willing effectively to abandon a child was not altogether foreign either.
"At least tell me that Senior paid something towards child support," he asked.
Cris looked puzzled, "No, why would he do that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Some people might think it was the right thing to do, you know – step up to look after your kid."
"Tony," said Cris slowly, "Did you think I meant that Mr DiNozzo was my father?"
"Well, sure. You mean … did you mean that … your Dad was my father too?" Tony fell silent as he imagined this tangle of circumstances.
"No," said Cris gently, "Remember I said that Cris wasn't short for Christopher?"
"Yeah."
"It's short for Crispian."
"Oh. I have a cousin called Crispian, that's a coincidence," said Tony absently.
"Yes, Mrs DiNozzo told me that Crispian is a Paddington family name."
"Yeah and I have to say I think I like you better than I like my cousin."
"Glad to hear it. Tony, we don't share the same father. We have the same mother."
"What!"
"Elizabeth Paddington – your Mom – met my father when she was a student. She got pregnant. Her family refused to have anything to do with her if she insisted on keeping the baby with her."
"I don't understand," said Tony trying to listen and absorb what Cris was saying.
"She gave birth to me. She told her family that she'd given me up for adoption but really my Dad had me. They didn't stay together. Mom went back to studying music and then she met your Dad. They decided to get married and she had the idea of getting Dad to be their butler so she could be with me."
"And Senior went along with all this?"
"I'm not sure how much he knew … or when he knew … but I figure he must have done. You saw the photos: they were in love and I reckon that he knew having me near made her happy, so he was happy too. I guess it might have changed when you came along."
"And you're saying that he stopped being happy about it? You said that he told your Dad to leave."
"Dad told me afterwards … a long time afterwards, that Mom's Dad – our grandfather – was coming for a visit." Tony hid a wince at the term our grandfather. "He thought that Mr DiNozzo was worried that it would come out that I was her son. Your Dad always wanted to keep on the right side of her British relations, he knew about the trust fund and he didn't want to risk that."
"And what happened after you left? How did Mom keep in touch with you?"
"She didn't. We never heard from her again. I think perhaps your Dad persuaded her not to reach out to us, told her that it was simpler that way. She cried when we said goodbye – that's my last memory of her." Cris wiped his eyes, "And then a few years later we saw in the New York Times that she'd passed away and I knew I'd lost her forever."
Tony shook his head as he tried to come to terms with all these revelations,
"Mom never said anything," he said wonderingly.
"You were just a kid," Cris pointed out, "She may have meant to say something when you were older but she never had a chance. If she had, then I guess we might have connected years ago."
"I'm sorry," said Tony, "I'm struggling to take all this in."
"I know. I'm sorry too. I wouldn't have said anything but when you said how you felt I was like your brother – well, it seemed meant."
"And that's why you're called Crispian?" said Tony trying to puzzle one thing out.
"Yes, she wanted to give me the family name even if she couldn't acknowledge me openly."
"I see," said Tony who really didn't see at all. "You know, I don't think I'd have been so shocked if you'd told me that Senior was your father – almost feels like something he'd do. But Mom!"
"She was young," said Cris excusingly.
"I'm not blaming her," said Tony hastily, "It's just a lot to come to take in." He shook his head, he felt as if he was saying the same things over and over again, but no words actually expressed his confusion and the sense that his world was shaking.
"I should go," said Cris, "You need time to think about this. And don't worry, I don't expect anything to change between us – I just felt it was right that you knew."
"And you're sure? I mean, that Mom was your Mom too?"
"I'm not joking," said Cris with a hint of irritation.
"No. No, I didn't think you were. I guess I'm still in shock."
"I know," said Cris more gently, "Yes, I'm sure. I even had a DNA test done a while back."
"DNA test? How? I mean, how did you get Mom's DNA?" Tony's detective instincts kicked in.
"When we left the house, she gave me a locket. It had a lock of her hair in it and one of your first baby curls. She said I should keep it as a reminder that we'd all be together one day."
Tony nodded helplessly.
"I can show you the results if you want," said Cris.
Tony shook his head, "Not now. I need to think about all this."
"Sure, I understand. But I hope, when you've thought it through, that you'll be happy." Cris stood up to go, he hesitated and then patted Tony awkwardly on the shoulder, "Will I still see you tomorrow?"
"What?"
"Squash. You wanted to hand me my ass."
"Oh, yeah … sure."
In some ways, squash was the last thing Tony wanted to do but the thought of taking his pent-up emotion out on an innocent ball was appealing.
NCISNCIS
Tony didn't sleep well that night and was almost grateful that he and Cris had arranged an early morning match which gave him an excuse to get up from his rumpled bed.
Cris turned out to be a good player and, in other circumstances, Tony would have enjoyed a game with a well-matched opponent, but these circumstances were as other as Tony could have ever imagined. The game was evenly balanced when Tony suddenly flung his racket to the ground,
"Hey," said Cris, "No need to lose your temper because I won that point!"
Tony gazed at him, "This is crazy."
"What? If you don't like the rules you should complain to the people who wrote them!"
Tony managed a grin, "You know what's crazy."
Cris managed a grin of his own, "Yeah, I guess this wasn't the best way to reconnect after last night."
"You think? Come on, let's get some breakfast."
A few minutes later, with coffee and bagels in front of them, Tony said, "So what happens next?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, after what you told me last night."
"Yeah?"
"I haven't got any experience of having a brother …"
"You believe me then?"
Tony shrugged, "I'm working on it."
"What does that mean?"
"What I said."
"You want me to show you the DNA results?"
"Maybe. Not yet. I'm still trying to get my head around Mom having another kid and not doing anything about it."
"I …"
Tony held up a hand to silence Cris, "I'm not blaming her … it's just trying to fit her doing something like that in with everything else I thought I knew about her."
"So, what do you want to do?"
"Carry on thinking about it. And carry on getting to know you – if that's what you want."
Cris smiled, "Of course it's what I want. That's why I took the risk of telling you. And anyway, I thought it was right that you should know. I tried to think how you would feel if you found out some other way – how betrayed you'd feel."
"I guess."
"So, what does thinking about it mean?"
"Carry on getting to know one another," said Tony, "I mean, I've got a pretty crazy schedule, but I think we should meet up sometimes. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good to me. Although, I should warn you …"
"Warn me about what?"
"I won't let you walk off a squash court again when you're losing!"
"I wasn't losing!"
"Yeah, you stick to that story. Baby brother!"
Tony continued to protest he had been about to win but was conscious of a warm feeling at being called baby brother.
NCISNCIS
A couple of months passed with Cris and Tony continuing to meet up: sometimes Tony would drop in to the Adams House Hotel to listen to Cris play, sometimes Cris would go to Tony's apartment and they would cook or order in takeout and sometimes they played squash and found, when they managed to complete a game, that they were evenly matched.
Tony didn't share the information about Cris's revelation with his co-workers, but they knew that he was still in touch with him and that he seemed to have struck up a good friendship. He caught Gibbs looking at him askance sometimes and knew that his Boss was a little surprised that, after the excitement of the photos, Tony hadn't shared anything else with him.
Cris arrived at Tony's apartment one evening to watch a football game – and to disagree on which team to support. As Tony opened the door, Cris said,
"Hey bro! Hope you're ready to see your team well and truly … what the hell?" He gazed at Tony in shock.
"Oh, yeah," said Tony nonchalantly, "Witness got a bit uppity today."
"Uppity? What do you call it when they get mad?" asked Cris reaching out a hand to touch the bruises on Tony's face.
"It looks worse than it is."
"I'm glad to hear it 'cos it looks pretty bad to me. You been to hospital about it?"
Tony laughed a genuine laugh, "Hospital? For this? Nah, I'm fine. Ducky looked at it for me."
"Ducky? Your dead person doctor?"
"Sure."
"You know it sounds like something out of a cheap horror movie that your doctor is a mortician."
"Medical examiner," corrected Tony, "A mortician is something else entirely."
"I bow to your superior knowledge," said Cris sarcastically.
"Really," said Tony, "Ducky's a real doctor – he often patches us up. And it's quicker than going to the Emergency Room."
"You sure you're OK?"
"I'm fine … well, clearly I'm not fine at the moment but I will be. No concussion, no fractures … just need to wait until the bruising comes out …"
"You mean there's more to come?" asked Cris in horror.
Tony recognised a misstep, "No, probably not."
"You taken any painkillers?"
"Yep, Ducky provided some non-loopy medicine."
"Non-loopy? What does that mean?"
"Story for another time. Possibly. Hey, you ready to order in food?"
Cris was obviously still worried about Tony's condition but decided to go along with him for the moment, "Sure. And because you're in a weak and feeble condition, I'll let you order Chinese."
"Yes!" Tony did a fist pump and then winced, "Ow, must remember not to do that."
"It hurt?"
"Yeah, some. I got a few punches of my own in but my hand's a bit sore," Tony admitted.
"In that case," said Cris decisively, "We're not having Chinese. You're bad enough with the chopsticks when you're fit. I can't imagine how bad you'd be when your hands are impaired."
"I could use a fork," suggested Tony.
Cris was outraged, "I'm not letting a brother of mine eat Chinese food with a fork! It's a cultural crime."
"But …"
"And you're in law enforcement! I can't believe you'd condone a crime."
Tony gave in easily enough, "OK. Then order pizza, I only need one hand for that."
Cris made Tony sit down on the couch while he ordered in the food and then he brought a glass of water over,
"When did you last take your painkillers?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Three hours ago."
"And when are you due again?"
"I guess when the food arrives would be a good time," said Tony a little sulkily.
"I think so too," said Cris firmly.
An hour or so later, with the football game halfway through, Cris's phone rang,
"Maggio … yes … really … I'm not sure … yeah, I'm trying … when do you need to know … OK … yeah, I'll let you know … ciao." He ended the call and said, "Sorry about that."
"No problem," replied Tony, "Or is it a problem?" he added as he saw a look of concern on Cris's face.
"No, not really."
"You want to try that one again?"
"It's just … well, I've got the chance of buying the apartment I'm living in …"
"The one with the tiny kitchen?"
"Yeah."
"Why would you want to buy it?"
"It's a first step on the ladder. A late one, I admit but up until now I've never really worried about settling down anywhere. I've been happy to live where the work is but now …"
"Yes?"
"I guess now I'd like to stay in DC – feels more like home now," he smiled a little shyly at Tony.
"What's the problem then?"
"Money," said Cris simply.
"How much do you need?"
"I don't want your money," protested Cris, "I never meant to tell you about this. I can find somewhere else to rent if the new owners want me out."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I was wondering about something though …"
"Yeah?"
"It's a bit awkward …"
"Go on."
"Mom told my Dad about a Paddington trust."
"Hmm, you mentioned that before."
"She said her father had set it up to benefit all his grandchildren after he died."
"Grandpa Paddington is still alive," Tony pointed out.
"I know. But I was wondering …"
"What?"
"I'm his grandson. Do you think he'd include me in the trust?"
"I don't …"
"It's kinda unfair that I'm not included – I mean it's not my fault that Mom and Dad weren't married."
"I don't know, Cris. I don't know if I'm included. Mom's British relatives didn't really approve of Senior … and when Great Uncle Clive died, he didn't leave me anything. Which doesn't matter but it might mean that the Paddingtons have forgotten about Mom's family."
"I guess … it's probably a long shot but … well, I'd really like to get that apartment."
"He's not dead yet, you know. There won't be any cash on the table."
"I know, but people – financiers – they take prospects into account. I could get a loan more easily if they knew I had prospects like that."
"Hmm."
"Aren't you interested?"
"What?"
"Well, to know if you're in the trust at all?"
Tony shrugged, "Not really. I mean, it would be nice but as far as families go, I've learned not to expect much."
"I could contact them," said Cris thoughtfully, "You know, perhaps make them remember. Hey, it would remind them about you as well."
Tony could see that the game was about to resume, "I've got the address of the family solicitor somewhere – from when Great Uncle Clive died. I'll give it to you … after the game."
Cris smiled at Tony, "Give it to me now."
"What? Why?"
"Because I know you, you're about to fall asleep, baby bro!"
Tony got up grumbling and retrieved the details from his bureau, "Bully!" he muttered. He settled back down on the couch thinking that it was a nice change to have someone looking out for him after an injury.
NCISNCIS
A few days later, Tony met up with Cris at the Adams House Hotel. Cris was excited,
"Mr Hubbard is a nice guy!"
"Who? Oh, the lawyer guy. You got in touch then?"
"Yes. He seems hopeful. He told me that there is a trust for the grandchildren and that he thinks, so long as I can prove that Mom was my Mom, that he can get me included. He said that a few years ago it would have been out of the question, "I have to tell you, Mr Maggio," Cris adopted a posh British accent, "That it would have been impossible for a child born out of wedlock to have been included but time has moved on and social mores have changed and there is a more liberal attitude to such things. Indeed, Mr Maggio, it has been imperative that attitudes have changed as, otherwise, there would be very few people eligible to inherit! And then he gave this sort of dry chuckle as if he'd made the biggest joke in legal history!"
"Sounds good," said Tony, "What do you do next?"
Cris produced some papers from an inside pocket, "I'm sending the DNA test," he showed it to Tony, "And a sample of my DNA – can't expect them to accept this one, can I? And I've got some documents from Dad – letters and stuff which support what I'm saying. Mr Hubbard says he'll get right on it. I can't believe it. So much has changed."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, I don't think I'd have done any of this if I hadn't been at the funeral. That sort of reminded me about all this … stuff. And meeting up with you again, made me feel like a Paddington again."
"Good. Can't say I've ever felt much like a Paddington," said Tony, "Perhaps I would have if Mom had lived longer, she might have reached out to them more."
"And it means I might be able to get the apartment after all."
"Might?"
"Depends on the timing. The bank will give me a loan once Mr Hubbard confirms I'm in the trust. But the landlord wants a decision from me by the end of the week … still, if I don't get this one, I'll be able to afford something else."
"With a bigger kitchen," suggested Tony.
"Nothing wrong with a small kitchen," said Cris, "Especially when one's baby brother has a big kitchen he only uses to heat things up."
"You really want this apartment?"
"It's a nice place. Convenient for work, near the park, near to your place. It's got a lot going for it. And, after all those years of moving around, I don't feel like moving anymore."
"How much do you need?"
"What?"
"You know, to get the place."
"I don't want your money …"
"How much?"
"I can get the place for 200 grand. I need to put 100 grand down."
"I could manage that," said Tony.
"That's ridiculous. I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking, I'm offering."
"It would just be a loan," said Cris.
"Damn straight it would be a loan," laughed Tony, "I can't afford to give it to you."
"No," said Cris, shaking his head, "I can't let you do it."
"Yes, you can," said Tony firmly, "When do you need it by?"
"Are you sure?" Tony nodded, "Then I'll tell the landlord today that I'll be buying the place. It should go through quickly … by the end of the week, I guess."
"Give me your bank details. I'll put the money in."
"This still seems mad," said Cris, "I'll go on-line and draw up an agreement – you know, to repay the money. And I'll pay interest. What will you be losing by lending me the money?"
"We'll work it out," said Tony, "Hey, I have to go. We caught a case yesterday and it's hotting up. I might not see you for a few days if we don't crack it …"
"That's OK," shrugged Cris, "I'm used to you going off grid for days when your Boss cracks the whip. You just take care of yourself, Bro."
"Always," smiled Tony.
"Make sure you do. I've only just found you. I can't afford to lose you already."
"I know. And you take care of yourself too."
"Says the man with the dangerous job," retorted Cris, "I'll be fine so long as nobody takes a dislike to my music!"
"I guess," said Tony, "Send me the bank details and I'll let you know when I'm transferring the money. See you!" He gave Cris a quick hug and pat on the back before hurrying away.
NCISNCIS
Two weeks later, Cris was playing piano when he saw a familiar figure leaning against the bar. He finished the piece he was playing and went to join him,
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world …"
"You played it wrong."
Cris looked back at the piano and frowned, "I don't think so … What are you doing here, Tony?"
"I thought it was time to talk."
"I guess you're surprised that I'm here?"
Tony smiled, "Not really."
"I don't understand."
"I like you, Cris. I really do."
"And I like you, Tony … my baby brother."
"What are you doing here, Cris?"
"A friend of mine offered me a share in this bar. Seemed too good an offer to turn down."
"So, you used the money for the apartment to buy into this?"
"That's right. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Sam's Place in Casablanca – long way to come. I thought you were tired of being on the move?"
Cris shrugged, "What can I say? The feet started itching again. You must know what it's like, didn't you tell me that you moved on every two years?"
"Not for a long time," said Tony, "I found somewhere I wanted to be … where I was needed … and I stayed."
"That's all right for you."
"And it could've been for you as well," said Tony gently.
"Why are you here, Tony?"
"I went to see Lilly."
"Lilly?"
"You remember Lilly, Cris. Your memory about the old days was always better than mine."
