Yes, this is a WaT and Mag7 (Modern Day AU) crossover. Why? Because I can. Oh and forgive the title, it's horrible, I know, but it fits surprisingly well. Again, this is not slash. I'm being cruel with the suggestive titles, really.

And let me begin with this quote because it was swarming around my head when this idea struck me and it took me at least half an hour to actually find the words to make sure I had them right: "there is my relationship with your mask and your relationship with my mask" – Escape from Intimacy, Anne Wilson Schaef.

Who's Your Daddy? (aka Masks)

by Ami-chan

They'd just finished up their latest case and were starting in on the ever so delightful mounds of paperwork they had to do when the call came. Martin answered the phone as always, with a sure but slightly absent, "Fitzgerald." It was the sudden discomfort in the air that made Danny look up just in time to catch Martin's wide-eyed gaze that was quickly being forced back into his normal, calm expression. "Yeah, send him up."

"Everything all right?"

Martin nodded distractedly, muttering, "Fine," before he began mindlessly attacking the piles of papers on his desk. Danny didn't believe him for a second and he continued to observe his friend. When a hesitant voice with a distinct southern accent asked, "Martin Fitzgerald?" the younger agent seemed to nearly jump out of his skin. (1) The agent that had been escorting the man backed away with a nod from Martin and the man approached with the air of someone who wasn't sure they were in the right place.

"Mr. Conley, you wished to speak with me?"

"Richard, please, and yes. You do have information concerning Vin Tanner, don't you?" The man, Richard, glanced at the chair he was offered and then promptly ignored it as if sitting would threaten his position. Whatever his position was.

"I do, but what exactly do you want with him?" To an untrained eye Martin seemed completely composed, relaxed, lethargic even, but Danny could almost see the underlying tension radiating off of him. Martin was freaked and that only made Danny all the more curious.

Richard began to explain that Vin Tanner's grandfather had recently passed away and that in his will he had left everything to his estranged grandson. Only they had no idea where he might be. As a note with the will, the late Michael Tanner had mentioned that in order to get a hold of Vin they would have to first find Martin Fitzgerald and that they specifically had to see Martin in person. Thus the reason for Richard's presence in the federal building after having flown from his Texas home where Michael Tanner had breathed his last.

The way Martin shifted during the man's monologue betrayed his surprise and when he had finished Martin was shaking his head in disbelief. "He didn't have any family. At least – I guess I never knew for certain."

"If you could just give me an address or a phone number so that I could arrange a meeting – "

He held up his hand, silencing Richard. "That won't be necessary, I assure you." Martin stood slowly, carefully and extended his hand. "Richard Conley, I'm Vin Tanner. Pleased to meet you."

There was a long, drawn out silence as Richard shook Martin's hand, a frown forming on his face. "But you're Martin Fitzgerald…?"

Martin shrugged. "I am now, yes, but my original birth certificate says 'Vincent Michael Tanner'. I'm sure they'll need all the documentation of that – that's really not the point. I mean, are there others? Is there more family I don't know about? Cousins? Aunts, uncles?"

Startled out of his surprise Richard nodded. "Yes, quite a few. It's – I guess I would be your, uh, cousin by marriage. Are you really Vin?"

A lopsided grin appeared on Martin's face, his head tilting just so. "'Reckon I am." Only it wasn't Martin's voice, it was different, a light Texan drawl coloring his words.

Richard's face lit up suddenly, his shock melting away into delighted surprise. "You are! This is – you'll have to come to Austin to meet everyone and there's the will, of course. He had been trying to find you for years after your mother died, he was nearly obsessed with it and then suddenly he just stopped, backed away. He must have found you, though? To have known your name now?"

"He must have, but I never saw him." They exchanged cards, Richard telling him where he was staying and that he would wait until Martin – Vin – was ready to leave. By the time Richard was escorted out by another agent the rest of the team was gathered around, eyeing Martin as if he were a stranger. And wasn't he?

"So, Victor Fitzgerald isn't your real father?"

Martin blinked rapidly as if coming out of a strange haze, his eyes focusing on Danny who had taken up a seated position on his desk, practically hovering over him. "What? Oh, no, Victor Fitzgerald is my biological father." He shrugged as if it didn't matter. "I'm just the bastard son he never wanted."

And that, that was surprising. Not so much that Martin was illegitimate, but that he'd called himself a bastard or, furthermore that he said Victor hadn't wanted him. The man practically oozed protective energy around his son and sure, Victor wasn't the most demonstrative individual, but he certainly cared about Martin. Maybe he cared too much.

"You changed your name?" That was Vivian, looking both confused and concerned at the same time and definitely prying. She wanted more information.

"No, of course not. He changed it. I'm not sure if he just didn't want it to be blatantly obvious that I wasn't his and Petra's son or if he was attempting to rewrite who I was and distance me from that – I think it was probably a combination of both. Especially now. Son of a bitch didn't want me to know I had family that was still alive. Other than his family, of course." Martin shook his head in disgust. "Not after he managed to keep the whole thing quiet which really wasn't that difficult, all things considered. He never talked about his legitimate daughters, hardly even mentioned Petra, so it really wasn't unusual for him to suddenly have a five-year old son."

Martin looked up suddenly as if he realized he was talking to his co-workers and not merely to himself. "To be honest, I don't think my sisters realize that I'm their half-brother. My youngest sister, Julia, was only six months at the time and Beth was just two and they simply didn't talk about it – in fact Victor still insists on calling Petra my 'mother'. It used to really upset me but then I guess all the exposure to it desensitized me. (2)

"It makes sense, though," he continued, his eyes turning inwards, becoming more and more distant. "He kept them away even when my grandfather came looking for me. It was likely out of guilt that he wanted to find me, just like it was out of guilt that my father kept me, but really they were all to blame. Her father must have… I don't know, I guess disinherited her when she became pregnant and Victor never thought to look back, never even considered the fact that he'd gotten her pregnant or that she was dying and penniless. He wouldn't have taken me if I hadn't been his son. He had me tested, tested to make sure, but I can understand not wanting to make Petra angry, turn their lives upside down and, really, at the time they thought I was mentally inept so – "

"Wait, slow down. They thought you were what?" The pressure of Danny's hand on his shoulder seemed to recall Martin once more and Martin twitched in what might have been considered a shrug.

"Uh, mentally challenged."

Danny made a soft "ummhmm" sound. "And they thought that why?"

Another half-shrug. "I was in shock. They thought I was autistic and I suppose they never took into consideration the fact that I'd spent about two years watching my mother die and then the whole sitting by her body for over twenty four hours thing. Or the being rushed to the hospital from severe dehydration and malnourishment, but why would they have? At the time I was poor white trash and no one really cared until I became officially labeled 'Victor Fitzgerald's son'."

"Okay, stop. Rewind. I think you're leaving out some of the details here. What was wrong with your mother?" Sam had rolled a chair over and was now studying Martin with avid curiosity as if suddenly realizing that Martin had a history beyond being eyecandy. Jake, for his part, seemed as if he wanted to walk away from the entire scene very quickly but for some reason was stuck in place like he was watching an accident take place and no matter how much he wanted to look away he couldn't. Like Jake, Vivian seemed unable to move but it seemed more out of concern and the need to know more than because she was morbidly fascinated by what she was hearing.

"She had cancer. I didn't know that at the time, I only knew she wasn't doing very well, especially toward the end. At first I noticed that she was a bit unsteady – her hands would shake a bit, or her legs wouldn't be entirely steady, just a light sort of trembling. It got progressively worse but of course she couldn't afford to get help, we barely had enough for food." Martin gritted his teeth unconsciously at all the memories he was dredging up. "She worked for as long as she could and I knew it was hell on her, but she did it for me. Sometimes I'd stay with a neighbor but most of the time I was alone. It wasn't as if she could hire a babysitter so what else was she supposed to do?

"It wasn't really bad until that last week. She knew she was dying and I knew it, too because she didn't even try to go to work, she didn't do a whole lot of moving around, either. Not that she complained. That last day, that was awful. She didn't get up at all, just laid there, just sort of staring vacantly and when she looked at me tears would well in her tears and she tried to speak a bit, told me she loved me and that I should always remember who I was, that I was a Tanner."

His voice faltered for a moment, then recovering Martin slipped into an almost clinical description of what had happened, his voice detached, "At one point she must have had a stroke of some sort because she convulsed violently for a moment and then went still. I thought she was dead then, but when I called out to her she moved her hand. She didn't really blink, though, or move otherwise and it was several more hours until she stopped breathing. Her eyes were wide open when she died, staring right at me and I didn't move I just stayed there, watching, hoping maybe she'd starting breathing again or blink her eyes or even – even twitch.

"I was told later, or rather I overheard later, that I must have stayed like that for somewhere between eighteen to thirty four hours. After a week of her not showing up for work they thought that maybe something was wrong. That and I think the rent was due. So I was carted off to some hospital then tossed in some foster home for a few days, Victor had seen her name in the obituaries, noticed she'd left behind a son, I was tested and matched and viola I'm suddenly Martin Vincent Fitzgerald. Vincent because I'd managed enough coherency to say 'Vincent' – I'd really meant to say that my name was Vincent, but I was feeling rather apathetic so I didn't try to explain myself.

"The sad thing is that had her father not distanced himself from her – or maybe it was her fault because maybe she distanced herself from him – or if Victor had just glanced back once to see what was going on she might still be alive. Victor would have preferred that, I think – keeping her alive, keeping me distant, a sort of secret from the world, there but not labeled as his son. He makes it a point now to announce me as his son, as if there was a doubt of that. He wanted me to be taller to look more like him and there was speculation that I should have been taller, hell, look at Victor! (3) But, well, malnutrition will do that. He loses his cool whenever I'm around, I see it happening even now because I was a mistake, I make him feel guilty."

Martin smiled suddenly, his eyes gleaming with a deeply sad, but partly malicious sort of mirth. "I lived for that before, to hurt him. He'd stolen my identity, he tried to make me forget my own mother, to suddenly be his perfect oldest child, his only son. He never got it. He never understood that I acted out because of him and that when he sent me away to boarding schools it was only a reward; I didn't want to be anywhere near him. The glowing reports about me shocked him, he didn't know what to make of them. Everyone liked me and thought I had potential except him and at first he thought they were just saying that to him, because of who he was and they weren't. I only acted out for him because of him, because I blamed him and I still do.

"Oh, I try not to. To blame him, I mean. I can understand exactly why he acted as he did and it makes perfect sense when it's all out there, but now this – my grandfather was looking for me and he found me. He knew who I was and I never saw him and I have a feeling this was another of Victor's little things to protect me from… from myself, my past, I guess. I have never had a problem with my past, that's Victor's little hang up, another attempt to keep any scandal from the precious Fitzgerald name. When you get right down to it, I think that what gets him the most is that I'm not a Fitzgerald and I've never believed myself to be one – I'm a Tanner and I'm proud of that and I'm proud of my mother. Victor and pride? Not so much. I'm an embarrassment to him as much as he's an embarrassment to me."

Swiftly, deliberately, Martin snapped closed the folder sitting on his desk and took a deep, cleansing breath. "Thank you for letting me vent. It's been more years than I've wanted to count and I've never told anyone anything about that. I've kept it all bottled up just like dear dad wanted me to, which I think only made it all the more vivid and real and there because I wasn't suppose to even think about it. Jack," he said suddenly, changing tracks abruptly, starling all of them with the swift change, "I'm going to need a few days, maybe longer. Use whatever excuse you like – death of a family member, family crisis, identity crisis, I don't care, but I have to go to Texas and meet the other half of my family and hope they are at least tolerable. Otherwise I think I'll be back pretty quickly. I'm not a masochist after all."

"Yeah, sure," was all Jack could manage, but that was enough. Martin was packing everything up, throwing his report in Jack's general direction and then he was gone.

"Well that was a surprise." Vivian turned back to her own desk a bemused expression on her face. When Danny wandered toward her, Vivian told him, a smirk firmly in place, "I guess you aren't the only one who got his name changed."

-to be continued-

(1) Okay, in case you didn't know (and at times I don't see how that's possible) Eric Close is six years OLDER than Enrique Murciano, so it always makes me smile a bit when I see fanfics referring to Martin as being younger than Danny. Oh course, that's how it's supposed to be, right? At least Martin was supposed to be the "rookie" when he joined up so whatever. For cannon's sake I will say Martin is younger even if it does irk me a bit. It seems so obvious that Eric's older. Damn sexy, but frickin' older!

(2) Randomly created names for the sisters. As for Petra… I've seen it used in fanfics before, but if it's really cannon I can't say because if it is than I missed the episode(s) it was in.

(3) Anyone else notice the height difference between Victor and Martin? I did! I did!

I wasn't sure that I was going to make this "to be continued", but I already have in mind a nice scene for the next part so I guess it is.