Author's Note: THIS IS THE PLATONIC VERSION OF THE STORY. The story diverges from this point! Chapter 8 (Romantic) is also posted. Thanks again for all the feedback, everyone! Now, enjoy!
Part 8: Tony
"Kate. Kate!" She ignored him, still wrapped up in saying goodbye to his mother. Tony turned to his father. "How long have we been standing here?" he asked.
"Ten minutes, give or take," his father replied with a shrug. "It's not bad, you know. I've had to wait for your mother for an hour, sometimes."
"Can't they just... you know, say goodbye?"
"It's not in their genes, son. Get used to it."
Tony sighed and leaned against the closed front door. "Mario and Rebecca got out of here faster than this, and they have two kids," he said.
"Be grateful that she gets along with us so well, Tony." His father turned to look at Kate, then back at him. "I like her. She's got spark."
"That she does," Tony agreed. "She's threatened to shoot me a few times."
"Before or after you started seeing her?"
Tony grinned. "Both," he said. He was definitely getting used to this back-story; it came easily now.
His father laughed. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Ah, now, here she is," he said as Kate bid her final goodbye and came towards them. He stepped forward and took her hands in his. "Kate, it was good to meet you."
"You too, Stefan. Happy anniversary," she said. She accepted the kiss on the cheek he gave her, and smiled at him.
"You take care of this son of mine." He glanced over his shoulder. "I give you permission to shoot him, but try to make sure no one else does."
"Papa," Tony said as Kate laughed.
"I'll try. Thank you for a lovely day."
"We'll see you soon, Kate. Safe trip."
Kate turned around and waved again as Tony put his retrieved suitcase in the trunk of the car, but then she walked briskly to the passenger's side and got in. As Tony pulled out onto the deserted road, she breathed deeply and leaned back in her seat. "You've got a great family, Tony," she said wistfully.
"They liked you too," he replied. "Well, with a couple of notable exceptions."
"They left rather quickly after dessert, didn't they?"
Tony couldn't help but smile at the satisfied tone of her voice. "I think you put the fear of God into her."
"Or something," she said. "Are you okay, Tony? I mean, really okay?"
"Yeah, actually," he said. "I am, for the most part. She wasn't the person I remembered. If she had been, you and I would be having a completely different conversation."
"I wondered what you saw in her."
"She wasn't like that before. She was..." He trailed off. "Do you want to hear this?"
She turned in her seat so she was facing him, even though he couldn't look at her and drive at the same time. "Yes, I do, if you want to tell me."
Did he want to tell her? "She was something else, Kate, she really was. She was positive without being naïve. I drew on that a lot while we were together. You know how it gets sometimes, when we come off a bad case and nothing seems right. I would come home, and she would be there, and I wouldn't have to tell her what had gone on. I didn't want to anyway. But she would tell me about her day, which was always happier than mine, and maybe we'd order pizza and sit on the couch and watch some silly film together, and suddenly all would be right with the world. She had this huge heart; I sometimes wondered how she could fit everyone into it without bursting. She cared so much for everyone she met."
"She's changed, then," Kate said quietly.
"Yeah," he answered. "Yeah, she has."
He didn't say any more, and neither did she, so they made the rest of the short drive to Mario and Rebecca's in silence. He pulled up into their driveway and parked the car. But as Kate reached for the door handle, he touched her arm. She turned back to him. "Kate, we can tell Mario and Rebecca the truth, if you want."
She tipped her head at him. "Why?" she asked.
He shrugged. "If you're not comfortable keeping it up–"
"Tony," she said. "It's just gotten easy."
He smiled. "I know."
She leaned back in her seat thoughtfully. "Besides," she said, "who knows how many family dinners this will be able to get you through? I mean, eventually you'll have to tell them we split up, but if you tell them I had to go to my parents' for Easter, or what have you, you could keep your mom and aunts off your back. Mostly. They'll still want to know when the wedding will be, but you can blame the uncertainty on me." She grinned. "I have commitment issues."
"Heaven forbid," he joked.
"If we blow our cover now, even if it is just Mario and Rebecca, there are that many more chances someone will let it slip. Not that I think they would, but..."
"Good point."
"And besides, what kind of practice would we be getting if we decide to stop after less than twelve hours?"
"All right, Kate, all right!" he said. "We'll just keep playing it."
"Tony." He turned back to her. She was looking at him intently, face half-shadowed in the light cast by the porch lamp. "I appreciate the offer."
"Just bein' a gentleman," he said.
"Yeah. Stop doing that. It's really throwing me off."
Tony grinned at her, but a change in the light drew his attention outside the car. Mario had opened the back door, and stood on the stoop, saying something. Tony rolled down his window. "What?"
"I said, you can stay in your car if you like, but the neighbours might talk."
"All right, we're coming."
They made short work of getting their suitcases inside. Mario took their jackets and hung them in the closet. "Rebecca's putting the girls to bed," he said. "But could I trouble you not to keep her up too late? She gets tired pretty quickly these days."
"These days?" Tony repeated, looking up sharply at his brother's tone of voice. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach. "Why these days? What's different about these days?"
"Nothing," Mario said.
Too quick, Tony thought. He answered that way too quickly. "Something at work?" he asked, grabbing his suitcase and following Mario to the kitchen.
"No."
"Is she sick?"
"No, Tony–"
"Are Mel and Min okay?"
"Yes, it's not... Look, I misspoke, okay? Get you something to drink?"
Tony ignored the offer, focused on his line of questioning. "Are you okay, Mario?"
"Yes, Tony, God!" Mario turned and pulled four tumblers out of the cupboard. "Water okay with you, Kate?"
"That's fine. Tony–"
He felt her hand on his shoulder, but shrugged her off. His concern moved him forward to lean across the breakfast bar until his face was inches from his brother's. "What's wrong, Mario?"
"Nothing," came a soft voice from behind him. He turned around to see Rebecca leaning on the doorframe, amused affection on her face.
"Then why doesn't Mario want you staying up late?" he asked, a little more briskly than he perhaps wanted to.
Rebecca glanced behind him at her husband, then back to him. "Because he's a worrywart," she said simply. "I'm pregnant, not terminally ill."
Tony froze. "Pregnant?" he echoed, staring at her.
She nodded, smiling. "Eight weeks," she said.
Silence hung over the kitchen. Then Kate said, "Um, so, I'm not sure. Should I be saying congratulations, or I'm sorry? I just can't tell."
That broke Tony from his stupor. He laughed, and dashed across the kitchen to his sister-in-law, who left the doorway to meet him. He swung her up and around in his arms, and then set her down again. "Pregnant! Geez, Mario had me thinking cancer or something."
"Nothing so dire, dear," she laughed, patting his cheek. "But can you keep it under your hat for a while? You're the first one we've told, and we want to wait a bit longer before we tell anyone else."
"Well, yeah, of course! But..." He looked at her curiously. "Then why tell me now?"
"Because we want to ask you something, Tony," she said seriously.
"Sweetie–" Mario said, but she cut him off.
"I can't ask this over the phone, Mario. You know that."
Tony looked at his brother, who subsided, albeit a little reluctantly, at his wife's insistence. Then he turned back to Rebecca. She looked at him earnestly. "We don't want your answer now, Tony, and don't think you have to if you really feel you don't want to. But we want you to think about being our baby's godfather."
Tony stared at her, then at his brother who nodded agreement, his shock even deeper than before. "Me?" he asked incredulously. "Oh, God, guys, I don't know–"
"Think about it, Tony," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "We really don't want your answer now."
"But..." he said, "I can't be a role model, especially spiritually–"
"You underestimate yourself, Tony," Rebecca said. "We wouldn't have asked you if we didn't think you could do it. You don't have to, but please, just think about it. Okay?"
Her earnestness made him harness the shock and panic that had taken him over. "Okay," he said, forcing his automatic refusal aside. He hugged her tightly again. "Okay. I'll think about it."
"Good," she said, stroking him gently on the back. "Now, let's get you and Kate settled. I do tend to crash pretty quickly these days, and if I left it up to him, I'm sure Mario would send you to bed without pillowcases or towels or something." She pulled back from Tony to smile at her husband, who denied he would ever do such a thing; she had trained him far too well.
Half in a daze, Tony embraced his brother and offered him his congratulations, and listened as Kate did the same. He managed a semblance of normal conversation as they followed Rebecca to the back of the house, and she showed them into the spare bedroom and provided them with all the linens they would need. Then they sat in the living room for a while, talking quietly. Part of him noticed that Kate immediately took a spot near him, leaning against him in such a way as to make him put his arm around her. She was solid and grounding, and her presence drew him from his distraction. He was immediately aware of when Rebecca began to fade, the strain of the day preying on her. He teased her a little, but though she protested that she didn't have to go to bed yet, he insisted that they all call it a night in favour of another visit in the morning. He didn't miss the grateful look his brother gave him. So after bidding good night, they retreated to their respective rooms.
The door to the guest room shut softly behind them, and Tony threw himself face down on the bed. He swore into the pillow several times. The bed tipped slightly to the side as Kate sat down next to him, then her hands were on his shoulders, digging in to the muscles there. "Ouch," he said, looking up slightly.
"Relax," she ordered. "It won't hurt so much."
He sighed in resignation, but clasped his hands under his chin as she continued to massage his back. "What a weekend," he muttered. "Just when I thought Rebecca and Mario were on my side, they do this."
"They are on your side, Tony," she said. "They love you."
"Then why are they doing this to me?" he asked. "Godfather. Jesus! What kind of godfather would I be, tell me that, Kate."
Her hands stopped moving. "I think you'd be a great godfather."
He rolled over and looked up at her. She was dead serious. "You know what I'm like, Kate," he said. "How can you say that? I can't have their kid looking up to me!"
"Why not?" she asked, tipping her head slightly to the side. She began ticking points off on her fingers. "You're in law enforcement. You have a very firm code of ethics. You care about your friends. You have a great sense of humour."
He sat up quickly. "I sleep around. I have commitment issues. I don't go to church and don't actively practice Catholicism. I have problems with authority."
Her hands covered his, stopping him from making any further rebuttals. "Tony, they wouldn't have asked you if they didn't know all that."
"It's 'cause of you," he accused, speaking as the thought came into his head. "They think that I'm settling down. This is all your fault!"
Anger flashed in her eyes, and she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him forward until their faces were inches apart. "Listen, DiNozzo. I'll take a lot from you, but that's over the line. I came out here this weekend to help you. You needed the settling-down pressure taken off of you; I did that. Maybe you didn't need me as much to hold your hand as to be a catalyst with Annette. That's fine; I did that too. But don't you dare think that just because we're playing this role that Mario and Rebecca don't know who you are. Do you really think it was a split-second decision to ask you to be their kid's godfather? Did you even look at them? It wasn't. They planned to ask you before they even knew about me. So you know what? You can take your self-pity and shove it. Don't belittle your family that way, don't belittle me, and don't belittle yourself."
From this close, her annoyance was inescapable and her arguments irrefutable, no matter how much he wanted, almost needed, to do so. But she was right, and he couldn't ignore that. Both Mario and Rebecca were meticulous and organized. Neither one of them was likely to make more than three split-second decisions in their lives. There was no possibility they hadn't discussed asking him to be godfather for days, if not weeks, before actually doing so. They believed in him, and Kate believed in him, despite everything. The only one who didn't was himself, and in an effort to reconcile that, he had belittled them all.
He reached up and covered her hand, still wrinkling the front of his dress shirt, with his. "I'm sorry, Kate," he said. "You're right. I'm sorry."
After a moment, her grip loosened, and she leaned back, averting her eyes. "It's okay, Tony."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." She looked up at him and smiled, a little guardedly. "You can just be so dense sometimes, you know. Especially about yourself."
He held up his hands. "Guilty," he conceded. "So we're not going to bed angry then?"
Her smile became much more natural. "No. But that's something else we have to talk about."
"What?"
"Going to bed."
"What about it?"
"You have noticed there's only one bed in this room, right?"
He honestly hadn't, and he was sure she picked up on that. But it was too good an opportunity to pass up. He looked around the room, then back at her. "I see what you mean," he said. "I don't know, Kate. I think I should be worried. After all, you were the one who started this whole thing 'cause you wanted my body."
She smacked his knee lightly with the back of her hand, but that was her only retaliation. "Funny man," she said. "You're the one that chases practically anything with a double X chromosome."
"That's unfair. I haven't chased you."
"Brothers under the uniform, remember?"
"Oh yeah. And certain death. Otherwise I'd be all over you."
She grinned. "Thanks. Now give me some blankets and I'll take the floor."
"No, Kate, let me–"
"Nope." She held up her finger, forestalling his arguments. "I'll take the floor."
"We can share, you know," he said.
"No offense, Tony, but I have trouble sleeping when someone's in the same bed as me. I'd rather be a little stiff than not have slept at all."
"But I can–" he tried one last time, but she gave him her Secret Service Agent look, and he subsided. "All right," he said. "You have the floor."
While she used the bathroom, he laid out a sleeping bag that he found in the closet, sacrificing the fluffiest pillow to her as well. She was already curled up in the makeshift bed by the time he returned from brushing his teeth, and seemed to be half-asleep, because she only mumbled, "Good night, Tony," as he shut off the light. He lay on the bed, looking down at her for a little while. Her breathing quickly evened out in sleep.
The day began to replay itself in his head as he looked at her, with all the ups and downs, surprises and revelations. It had been a long day, he decided, when finally he too was struggling to keep his eyes open. And he was glad Kate had been there with him.
