EPILOGUE

A few days later, Tony was shutting off his computer and gathering his gear when Tim came and stood by his desk.

"Hey, Tony."

"What?"

"You want to play squash tomorrow morning?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard. Do you want a game of squash tomorrow? We've got the weekend off."

"You hate squash."

"I don't hate squash."

"Excuse me, I should have said, you hate playing squash with me."

"Sometimes," admitted Tim.

"And you want – willingly – to play with me?"

"Sure," said Tim bravely.

"Then you're on. Bit of easy meat is a good way to start the weekend off," grinned Tony.

"And afterwards …"

"Afterwards? There'll be an afterwards?"

"I thought we could have breakfast at that café near the Kennedy Centre."

"I love it there!"

"And then I thought we could play Tetris Titans Transworld …"

"I'm good at Tetris!"

"Not as good as me," said Tim sternly.

"You're on!"

NCISNCIS

"Thanks, Tim," said Tony the next day.

"What? For thrashing you at Tetris?"

"No. No, I'm not thanking you for that! In fact, I'm fairly sure you rigged the whole thing in some way. Nobody could be that quick!"

Tim shrugged in a slightly sinister way, "You keep thinking that if it makes you feel better."

"I'm going to ask Abby about this," said Tony broodingly, "She'll know."

"If it makes you feel better."

Tony frowned for a couple more seconds but then shook his head as if to rid himself of evil thoughts, "No, I was thanking you for … well, today. You know, squash, breakfast … and handing me my ass in your diabolical computer game."

"You're welcome."

"And thank you for helping me out with that other thing. You know, Cris."

"Did it work out OK?" asked Tim cautiously.

"Yep, fine. And thanks for not … well, prying."

"You know I'm there for you, Tony."

"Thanks, Tim."

"You want to tell me what it was all about?" probed Tim delicately.

Tony took another gulp of his coffee, "I guess. You remember that photo you all saw of me as a kid with Cris?"

"Yeah."

"Turned out he had a whole load more. And he showed them to me, and it turned out that him and I had grown up together until I was about four years old."

"Happy memories?" wondered Tim.

"Don't know – because I didn't remember him at all. Oh, apart from him burying me in the sandpit."

Tim nodded wisely. He had sometimes had a similar impulse towards Tony.

"But the photos showed us getting on well. And I liked him. He was a nice guy."

"But?"

"Why should there a but?"

"Well," said Tim judiciously, "For one thing, this is you we're talking about. And for another, you had me doing hinky things with money and his bank account."

"Yeah, course. Well, we got on well. Hell, I even told him that it almost felt as if he was a brother."

"Oh," said Tim, beginning to see where things were headed.

"And soon afterwards, he told me he was. A half-brother."

"Cris DiNozzo …"

"Actually no. He said he was my Mom's son. That he'd been sent away when I was about four and he'd never seen my Mom again. He said he had DNA evidence and everything."

"And what did you do?"

Tony looked embarrassed, "I kinda went along with it. I never really believed it – didn't seem possible that Mom would have abandoned a child, but I didn't challenge him. Didn't ask for the proof."

"Why not?"

"'Cos I guess it felt … nice. I'd always wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister – never thought it would turn out to be an older sibling. So, for a while, I went along with it. And we just got to know each other better."

"Until?" prompted Tim.

"Until he started – oh, so carefully – talking about money."

"He tried to get money off you?"

"No. He said he'd heard there was a Paddington trust – set up by my grandfather for his grandchildren. Wondered if he could be included."

"And is there?"

"Is there what?"

"A Paddington trust?"

"I don't know. Doesn't seem right to ask. Guess I'll find out one day. But I said to Cris that I didn't have high expectations when it comes to family." Tony sighed and looked out across the Potomac River.

"And what did he do?"

"I gave him the details of the family law firm in London and waited to see what he'd do."

"And what did he do then?"

"Nothing. I checked later. But he told me he'd set it all in motion, that it was likely he'd get in on it – but not in time to get the apartment he wanted."

"And he asked you for money to tide him over?"

"No. I offered."

"What? Why?"

"I think I wanted to bring it to a conclusion. I couldn't bear to listen to him trying to raise the subject tactfully. I knew he wanted to, so I decided to offer myself up."

"Huh," said Tim thoughtfully.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Is that all you're going to say - huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"No what the hell were you thinking, Tony? No how stupid was that, DiNozzo?"

"No," said Tim calmly.

"No?"

"No. I figure you've said all that to yourself already. And besides …"

"Yeah?"

"I think I understand. Family … well, I know a bit what it's like not to have the perfect family. I can imagine wanting one … and trying to find one. And there's nothing wrong with daring to hope, Tony."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. Dare to dream isn't a bad motto – and that's what you did. And you had the sense to know when to face reality. I don't see anything to beat yourself up about."

Tony nodded and they both gazed in silence across the river for a minute or so. Characteristically, Tony broke the silence,

"Thanks, Tim. For everything."

Tim nodded in acknowledgement. Shortly afterwards as they got ready to go their separate ways Tony said,

"Thanks again, Tim."

Tim shrugged, "It's what family does, Tony."

They shook hands silently and then Tony watched as Tim strode away. Family, he decided, was hard to fit neatly into a box but he figured he had a dysfunctional – yet, very functional – family at NCIS. And perhaps he had family of a sort in Cris because of their shared past and, despite what had happened, he was still grateful to Cris for what he had given him.

Tony had thought about asking Cris for the return of his mother's locket but somehow, he thought Cris might need it more than he did. And Tony was, after all, accustomed to unsatisfactory family members – he was used to making lemonade out of the lemons life sent him.

Tony smiled as he walked away – although he'd make sure to talk to Abby about how Tim might have outwitted him at Tetris! And when he was ready, he'd arrange a rematch …

AN: finished at last! Thank you to everyone who's taken an interest in this story – the NCIS characters are safely back in their box.