Disclaimer: Not mine

Beta: Mike91848 Thanks for the basketball help

CINDERELLA Revisited

Chapter Six

"What in the hell are you doing here, Anton?"

And Tony recalled an unpleasant memory

FLASHBACK

Twenty-one years ago

I just got a message that there was another phone call from a woman who wouldn't leave her name, just a number. I know who it is though. Three years have gone by and I'm still not signing but she calls just to harass me and throw profanities at me.

And, yeah, it started out hard. I thought the life I had charted out for myself was over. My partial scholarship suddenly disappeared suspiciously due to the benefactor of the grant suddenly 'running out of funds.' I wasn't eligible for the basketball scholarship because of family income but this was before I became emancipated. By that time, well they had all been given out. I had the title to grandma's apartment but there was no way I was going to get rid of it and even if I had wanted to, the bitch might find out and try to take that away from me too.

I was screwed. Coach Trent said I was going to college no matter what but I doubted it was going to happen. So, I got kind of depressed, or more depressed. I was going to be out of school in a few weeks and homeless at 17. Grandma was dead and Janes, well I didn't want to bother him right then.

Coach and Betty didn't even ask me, just told me that I would be staying with them for the time being. I was so grateful but they wouldn't even let me thank them. They had fostered kids before and had a room already available. That was that as far as they were concerned. I said I'd pay them rent anyway as soon as I found a job.

So a few days before graduation I was laid up in my room. The Trent's had tried to persuade me to go to my graduation ceremony but I just didn't have it in me. Mrs Trent came to my room with a sandwich and milk because I hadn't wanted breakfast, and a letter.

I couldn't believe it. The letter said the original scholarship recipient had chosen another university and had forfeited his place. I had been next in line. It was a miracle or the Coach had done something, I didn't care, I was going to college on a full scholarship.

I still needed to get a part time job for extras but, I had room and board and food for the next four years. Excellent!

By that September, I was in Ohio, playing ball. The bitch called the coach trying to find out what address I was using for the gutter I had found to sleep in. When she had manipulated it so that I lost my scholarship, she was sure I'd be on my hands and knees crawling to her to sign those papers. Ms Betty cussed her out on the phone and hung up.

I'm not sure I like the Trent's being so involved in my problems. I found out that the Polaroid picture was not of Ms B but some doctored up picture with some woman sitting tied up with a hood covering her face. Probably the crazy cat woman. They told me it was Ms B and I believed them.

What if it had been for real? Coach had to wait 24 hours before he could declare me missing. The police just said I was a run-a-way. It's too much for them. I'm going to back off on our friendship. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to them because of me. I don't trust the bitch.

So, I answered the phone the next time she called. It'd been about a year since the last extremely unpleasant call and I needed my mind free and clear because we had a game coming up that was going to make the team or break it. Someone told me that I could get a restraining order against her phone harassment but I didn't really have any proof or time to waste.

I let her rant a full minute then when she paused, I told her that there were a lot of secret entrances in a mansion like that and I had heard a rumor that someone who knew the layout could sneak into a home and a woman could be found with her throat slit open by steel claws. I said she needed to take care.

Childish, I know, but it worked, she understood the threat. She shut up and I hung up. I made sure that I didn't actually threaten her because she was probably taping the conversation, well my part anyway, and she'd have the police on me before I could hide the claws.

So, now it was game time. This was it. The crowd was in a frenzy. I heard my name being yelled and I got even more revved up.

"To-nee! To-nee! To-nee!" Being chanted by thousands of adoring fans, even though we weren't playing in our home state was exhilarating. Gorgeous babes who threw themselves at me and scantily dressed cheerleaders added to the thrill. I was addicted to the sounds, the colors of scarlet and gray, and March madness. The presence of the television cameras was just icing on the cake.

Strategies were in place that I had set up. Ten of the best players were out on the court; five of them six foot birds of prey eyeing me with their cunning eagle eyes. The coach was screaming encouraging profanities at us and coded death threats at the other team.

It was the last three seconds of the last half. Sharp-eyed referees sweated along with the players as they frenziedly ran to keep up, and the table officials tried to stay in their seats.

The basketball felt like an old friend in my hand. As the point guard, I fingered my team the play that was going to win us this game. And I was going to do it when the time came. Whatever it took, I would flip, heave, scoop or fling this old and willing friend into that basket.

There it was. The defensive rebound, the bounce pass, the dribble, the throw and the ball. was. in, the whistle was blown, the clock stopped and the game was won! Crazy with the win of the day, fans on the perimeter and higher up screamed and gyrated victory's dance with the players' names chanted on their lips.

The traditional triumphant ride on tall shoulders along with head slaps and butt taps never got old. I shook hands with the home team, thanking them for playing, but more thankful they were losers. Champagne was poured over my head but I swallowed more on the sly than ended up on the floor.

So, yeah, I was the televised hero of the evening and it felt pretty good. In spite of my mortal enemy, the DiNozzo Family, and their dire need for everything in my life to go against me, I was still a valuable member of something important and there was nothing they could do about that.

The team was going back to the hotel along with a few hundred friends, fans and most importantly, babes, to par-tee. Plus, I was excited that I and a group of my frat brothers were taking our spring break in Cancun, Mexico, my first spring break away and not having to work a double shift at my part time job. My bag was packed with the essentials; phony driver's license which aged me to 21, and a couple of packets of condoms. Life was good.

Back at the hotel, it was my turn to get the beer so I was in the elevator headed down one flight from the party floor for the beer we had stashed in our suite. Music was blaring even when the elevator door closed and I was having a dance party all by myself. I stepped off the elevator and danced on clumsy but nimble feet down the hall to the beer room. I was stumbling around fumbling with the slippery key cause, let's face it, I was underage and drunk.

I had finally gotten the door open when suddenly I was pushed inside the dark room and I ended up on the floor. My coordination was all messed up so I couldn't get my feet under me before my arms were grabbed and a bag was roughly placed over my head and a gag shoved in my mouth.

I was struggling, trying to get my arms free and trying to yell through the gag. I kicked out low and got someone where it hurt because he yelled and groaned as he bent over clutching himself. I know this because the guy says, "he kicked me in the balls again, damn it!"

One of the jerks punched me in my stomach and it took everything in me not to vomit into the bag. I got punched again and I lost the battle and the vomit erupted with nowhere to go. So I was basically going to choke to death on beer and regurgitated chicken wings. I had stopped struggling by this time because, well, I couldn't breathe. A different voice I didn't recognize said, "get the bag off his head idiot, we don't want him dead!"

Ah, the voice of reason that didn't sound too bad for my continued health. Someone removed the bag from over my head along with the gag and for pay back, I turned toward the jerk holding my arm and spat the junk in my mouth as far as I could in his direction. I took in some good lungfulls of air while the guy was cursing in disgust trying to wipe the crap off of him while still trying to hold onto me. It was still dark in the room so I couldn't see who these guys were and they weren't saying a whole lot.

Then I heard, "Come on, this is taking too long. I'll take care of the bastard here. Hold him, Sims!"

Ah, now that voice I knew.

"Well, well, if it's not the freak, fat Anton DiNozzo! Can't keep your hands off me, freaky, huh? Mommy not enough for you?"

I should have known that punk wouldn't take kindly to me threatening his mommy. And, of course, she went crying to him with her phony, dry, calculating black tears. Yeah, and the name calling wasn't going to help me much either.

But I couldn't help it so I mocked him some more. "I could recognize your squeaky voice and stinky smell anywhere, you jerk! What the hell are you doing?!"

So, of course he answered me the only way a predictably mommy obsessed and fanatical bully could. "Shut up, you pig! You're going to pay for calling mother and threatening her into hysterics. You're going to get what you deserve."

Angela the bitch in hysterics? Anyway, Anton and his buddies proceeded to give me what I deserved. Two of them held me while Anton punched, kicked and basically beat the shit out of me. I couldn't keep my mouth shut and kept taunting him where I knew it would hurt.

"Your bitching, whore mother put you up to this Anton? Is she going to reward you by crawling into your bed tonight all nakeddy...?"

Anton picked up something from somewhere and with an animalistic growl, slammed it into my face. That shut me up. I saw stars and then nothing.

I came to on the floor and heard voices. I was in a world of pain but tried not to groan or move. My face was on fire and my stomach pretty sore where Anton had kicked me. Repeatedly! There was idle conversation going on around me, unconcerned, as though there wasn't a bloody body lying prone on the floor under their designer sneakers.

"What time do we have to be at the airport, Anton?"

"Whatever. The pilot will wait for us. We have the plane for the day. Birthday present from father."

"You are one lucky dude, man. Your dad gives you anything you want."

"Don't call him my dad, Sims. Makes it sound kind of ordinary. He's above that. Mother says Father is glad to do things for me since his first try at a son was such a failure. That stinking bastard over there threatened my mother and I won't stand for it. I should kill him now!"

"Hey, easy now, calm down, Anton. You got him pretty good. Let's just go, man. They're going to be looking for the big hero, here, and we don't want to be here when they find him. He did look pretty damn good on the court tonight, though, Anton, great moves."

"Shut up, Brett!"

Ah, the unknown guy finally had a name. Not that I wanted to get to know him any better. Brett, Sims and Anton kept talking, well Anton mostly, on and on about how I wronged his mother. I'm really starting to think there is something obscenely nasty going on between the two of them. Ugh!

I also figured out that these rich boy thugs with a jet plane at their disposal and a limousine with driver to take them to it, had found the stash of beer and had helped themselves. Not like they couldn't afford to buy their own damn beer.

One of them came over and shoved my shoulder. I couldn't help moaning aloud.

"Hey, Anton, he's awake. Let's finish up and get out of here before we miss your birthday party."

I recognized his best bud Sims voice close to my ear. "Remember this the next time you think about kicking me in the balls, DiNozzo, because there won't be a third time"

Searing pain, charring flesh and acrid smell testified to my burning skin as he used his expensive lighter on me and I let out a muffled scream.

Beer guzzling Anton came over with a beer can in hand and poured cold beer over me setting the burns on fire again.

"Wake up, jerk! You call my mother again, Mr Superstar, and you'll wish you were dead!"

I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut and my opinion of him and his mother to myself but I did because the pain in my face was so intense. Anton still got in a few more kicks to my back and legs before he was satisfied I had received sufficient punishment for this latest transgression. They left the room, whooping and hollering at their victory.

When the team came looking for me and more beer, I had passed out again. I woke up in the hospital with my jaw wired. It seems Anton had, with what must have been great force I was told by the doctor, slammed a glass ashtray into my face and broke my jaw. A few cracked ribs and a bruised liver were my other souvenirs of brotherly love, besides an assortment of bruises and burns.

I told the police who had done this to me, but guess what? There were quite a few well- paid, lying on a stack of bibles, witnesses who swore that Anton, Sims and Brett were never in Michigan. They were on a safari when I was getting beat up, or they were bull fighting in Spain, etcetera.

The gang of thuggy frat boys wore trendy black gloves along with their leather jackets and took their empty beer cans with them. The DiNozzo pilot said the plane was in Michigan to pick up business associates of Mr DiNozzo but there were no other passengers. The cops said there was nothing they could do.

I had to stay in this hospital for two weeks. I missed spring break, Cancun, and the rest of the season. I ate nothing but shakes for 8 weeks and lost too much weight. I didn't get any visitors from fans because I had been admitted under an assumed name to avoid publicity. The team had to go back to Ohio so I was left there alone. I was pathetic, lonely and sad. The pity party I indulged in was bitter and angry even though getting angry never seemed to get me anywhere. The taste of my victory had turned to sour grapes, again.

One thing I had learned from all of this? I would hate Anton DiNozzo and anything that was his for the rest of my life.

I just wanted to find a way to be able to walk away from an encounter with those people and feel like I had won a round. Just once.

END OF FLASHBACK

THE PRESENT

I was writing down the plethora of meds as Palmer read them off to me from our newest victim's medicine cabinet. There should be a law; this guy ate drugs like candy. Suicide, accident or maybe something else; he had a beautiful wife way out of his league.

Ah, Kate, I miss my scolding's from you for being such a stereotypical pig. If you only knew, I'd just say stuff like that to get you going, woman. Dr Kate's sister says you loved playing along most of the time, but sometimes I irritated you to hell.

Palmer stopped talking while I was fondly reminiscing and I was surprised because there was no way he had come to the end of this guy's candy store stock.

When I looked up, I kind of froze for a moment, then I was seeing bolts of red pitchforks behind my eyes and I felt flushed because my blood pressure had just shot up to 200. Where was Ducky when you were about to stroke out?

I surreptitiously slid my weapon drawer slightly open for easy access to my gun in a calm but over-reacted way and confronted the man standing in front of my desk.

"What the hell are you doing here, Anton?"

I hadn't seen the man for years and I had despised him even longer when I allowed myself to think about him which was every once in a while when my jaw would ache.

He hadn't changed, just aged. He still had the same desperate, vengeful eyes and disdainful expression he had always had when he looked at me ever since we were children. I know the same expression of loathing was on my face and duly reflected back at him.

Abby, who had brought the guy in, jiggled in excitement beside Anton calling attention to herself. I spared her an unbelieving, are-you-insane look. What in the hell was wrong with this woman? When had she become so obtuse?

Anton and I stared at each other like two kick-boxers ready to back-fist each other out of the ring and onto the hard cement floor. And how could she have missed the unwelcoming, feral snarl I had greeted him with. Yet with childish enthusiasm, she plowed ahead in thick-headed obliviousness, even cozily slipping her hand through his arm.

Excitedly, she blundered ahead.

"Tony, this is what I've been trying to tell you. This is so exciting. Remember that party that all of you were so rude not to attend...even though you had been invited, and would have had a great time by the way. But, anyway, you see, Matt introduced me to Anton here, who is his best friend, forever, who, come to find out, well, you two are related but hadn't seen each other in years...So Anton needed you to do something really important, Tony, something that is close to my heart, so I said of course I would be more than happy to..."

"Hold on, Abby, please!" I didn't exactly yell at her but I spoke firmly enough that she got the point and shut her mouth.

I hadn't taken my eyes off of crazy Willie there and saw the sly smirk slither on his face as though he had pulled something over on me. And in reality, it looked like he had. Anton and Agent Matt Simmons were close friends and Abby was in the middle of it. What was I missing?

What the Hell! I got up from my chair and walked around my desk where Anton stood as though he owned the place. I was surprised, the little fat weasel was almost as tall as I was and well built. I guess he had learned some disciplines in his over indulged, pampered life.

Stepping up to him, I jabbed my finger in his chest non-too-gently to get his attention and repeated in his face.

" . here?" He just grunted as he pushed my hand away and reached for his briefcase.

"You know why I'm here, quit playing the fool! The lawyer already discussed this with you. I am aware of your attention deficit difficulties so I will resort to being redundant!"

Anton had enunciated his last sentence so slowly and precisely to me that even I thought he was talking to a moron.

"Yeah?" I interrupted crudely, cutting into his well-prepared spiel before he could bore me some more with his insults and rhetoric.

"About as redundant as standing here talking to you isn't like butting my head against a stone wall? When I said NO to the lawyer's idiotic demands, like I would ever stoop to helping you or any of your kin out, you took that as an invitation to barge into my place of employment, a Federal Agency, no less, to try and force me to agree to your demands?

"I should just kick your ass now, Anton, and spare myself any more time having to breathe the same foul air as you. Get out of here! And take your crap with you!"

Anton was already losing control of his ever volatile temper as his light eyes darkened and his pale face mottled from the neck up. I couldn't believe I was even related to this fair-haired boy with his pasty skin and blonde locks and I use to wonder if the bitch hadn't found some other randy, albino dogs house to screw in and make miserable.

But Anton and I resembled each other in appearance like all DiNozzo men; brother's maybe or first cousins. Bet it ate at his craw too 'cause I got the looks first, he was just a poor carbon copy creep with his poor substitute of a name for Anthony.

Anton continued removing papers from his briefcase in rigid determination and shoved them in my face. "You bastard! You will listen! The papers are signed. Everything is turned over to you. The family will be out of the mansion by the end of the month. What more do you want? Isn't this enough incentive for you to do something decent for a change?"

"Seriously, Anton? Decent?"

How old was this guy, five? You call breaking someone's jaw with a piece of glass, decent? He still believed that brainwashing crap the bitch had indoctrinated in him. Yeah, I'd do something for him and his progeny alright, but it wouldn't be anything he would consider decent.

Suddenly, I was just sick of this whole mess. I was sick of him and his papers and I just wanted him gone! I was sick of Abby and her interfering, naive self. I had just decided to tell him why it would not be a good idea for his relative to get the kidney they were so desperate to have, when he slapped the papers on my desk, sorted through them and pulled out two sheets.

"The information contained in here is separate from the original issue. I suggest you read it before you make any irrevocable decisions! You will be contacted tomorrow as I am sure you'll do the right thing, for yourself as well as the other party."

"Did you just threaten me, Anton? You do know that I am a Federal Agent, right?" I felt my neck hairs bristling warily.

"Why, not at all, Tony." My name on his lips sounded obscene. Of course, he was going to get in the last word. One-up Tony as usual with the info in those two pieces of paper going to be my downfall.

"Now, if someone will show me out, I'll be more than happy to oblige and 'take my crap with me'." his laugh was truly unpleasant.

I'd show him out the nearest open elevator shaft if it would get him out of my face sooner. He adjusted his suit jacket and lapels as though he needed a tailor and a new suit after stooping in the mire to have a conversation with me. Anton was in control again and he had the upper hand.

I beckoned to Abby who clomped over to escort him out. His contempt was obvious as he looked around at the office, my desk, the other eavesdropping Federal Agents and clerical staff, until he finally got back to me where he 'tipped his cap' and sneered in my face as though to say this was all I deserved. He smiled charmingly at Abby and gallantly offered her his arm. She tripped over herself getting him to the elevator; poor deluded woman did not have a clue.

I went back to my desk, closed my gun drawer and opened the one with the deodorizer spray can. After liberally spraying my desk, the air and myself, I breathed a little easier without the stench of supercilious self-delusionment that resulted in privileges publicly worn by Anton DiNozzo clogging up my nose.

Okay, it was awfully quiet in the office even for the night shift. When I looked around, it was obvious why. Gibbs was at his desk but I think he had just sat down from standing rigidly at attention during Anton's unwarranted visit. Ziva stood in front of her desk but hadn't relaxed her stance yet. Ducky and Palmer were standing together at Gibbs desk and McGee had just returned to his desk.

I remember Tim rising from his chair and standing beside and a little behind me when Anton had come in with Abby. He had stayed in place and shushed Abby when she tried to interrupt. Abby had turned to McGee in annoyance at the sharp, disapproving tone he had used.

McGee had stubbornly jutted his chin out, not willing to take it back or stutter an apology to her even though he was expecting her to argue when she didn't get her way.

Sure enough, "How dare you, McGee?" came out of her mouth while she was still clutching Anton's arm. "You have no idea what's going on here, so just butt out!'" She didn't have a problem loudly putting him in his place, either.

McGee's silent appeal to Ducky had the Medical Examiner at Abby's side where he quietly but firmly told her to remove herself from the vicinity before she caused more trouble than she already had. He had a firm hold of her arm while he led her away.

"But, Ducky, no, you don't understand..."

"No, you don't understand. Please be quiet, Abby!"

Ah, Proby. Good man to have at your back where he stood the whole time that star-gate snake was trying to mess with my head and had only just now walked back to his desk when I started to spray and he started to sneeze violently. I think I got him in the eye, sorry McGee.

Now, I had five sets of eyes staring at me. Ducky looked at me proudly, knowing that I had overcome that brief thought of engaging in behavior that would qualify me for the loony bin where I would be permanently strapped on the couch and spilling my dark-set and abnormal thoughts, something I always feared would happen.

The desire to spray that can until it was empty then another can, then stealing cans from my co-workers drawers and then raiding the utility closet for cans and spraying them until empty had been a fleeting thought I had overcome pretty quickly, though I was still disgusted with myself for having the thought in the first place.

The medical terminology I had given my ailment was DiNozzoitis repetitiveness viralitis, though there was an official medical term for it, and it was related to stress. I was almost 42 years old and I had been suffering from the disease since I was 12 years old, traumatized and alone. It didn't matter what the activity was as long as it was repetitive and I could do it for hours. My remissions lasted only as long as the DiNozzo bugs stayed away from me.

I continued internally lamenting my sorry state of sanity when I realized I couldn't sit here stupidly holding an empty spray can any longer and had to first answer my teams silent questions and second I was going to have to read Anton's two pieces of Judas paper.

"So, what's going on, DiNozzo? Was Gibbs surprising outburst, well, quietly phrased question.

"Not a thing, Boss. That was Anton DiNozzo, Abby's new best friend." I said for Abby's benefit as she had just gotten off the elevator to return to the lab.

Abby let out an indignant squawk and turned to me ready to defend her position but Gibbs blue censored gaze held her in place. Ziva was frankly annoyed at being kept in the dark two seconds two long as she glared at me.

"Answer Gibbs question, Tony. What is going on? Jealous boyfriend of your latest bimbo?" As usual, she showed her irritation by her snide remarks couched in lighthearted banter, but I just felt unaffected by her pettiness and her one tract mind.

"That was my estranged half-brother Anton DiNozzo. His kid, Gregor DiNozzo needs a kidney transplant and every other family member has been tested and none of them match."

I had done some very minor research on my own to see what I was up against.

"You do not have a brother, Tony." Ziva said this with such absolute conviction. I had learned that it just makes you look incredibly stupid when you blurt something out for which you will later wish you could bite your tongue off for ever opening your mouth.

"Do you want me to tell you this or not, Agent David? Your Mossad dossier notwithstanding, I have six estranged half siblings, none of whom I know or wish to get to know." I raised my eyebrows in her direction daring her to argue. Geez, spare me the arrogant assumptions.

I wasn't in the mood for any more people tonight assuming they knew me and everything about me. First Anton, then Abby, now Ziva? I looked over at Gibbs, who had relaxed back in his chair and remained typically speechless. Ducky had left for some tea and had dragged an unwilling Palmer along with him, stating they did not need to be privy to any further revelations at this time. McGee held a wet tissue over his right eye but was listening attentively. And there was Abby, who wasn't going anywhere until she had her say.

I ignored Ziva's obvious surprised disbelief at not only a family of mine she didn't know about, but that she had obviously miss-judged her superior investigative expertise.

"The DiNozzo family has some property that belongs to me which they have had tied up in court for twenty five years. They assume by releasing the property, I would be willing to get tested and then possibly donate a kidney to one of their relatives."

"The DiNozzo family, Tony? Their relatives? You keep saying that. Are you not a part of this DiNozzo family? If you are not, then what awful thing did you do that you are aligned...sorry, no, alienated from this family?"

Ziva's way at getting back at me for so-called spurious slurs against Mossad?

"Yeah, well, I'm still trying to figure that one out, Ziva."

Before she could make another cutting remark, Abby got her opinion off her chest. Sounding annoyed, she asked why I wouldn't even consider donation, being that if it were her, she would be on that steel table in a nanotechnological second getting her stomach flayed open and her organs scooped out and frozen. Now she was going to flay me for not believing the way she did? Did she even realize or care that if I gave up one of my kidneys, my job as a Federal Agent would be over?

Abby's unwanted opinion was duly noted. Then, previously silent McGee suddenly turned into McGibbering with a singular question for Abby.

"That's awfully coincidental, Abby. Matthew Simmons and Anton DiNozzo very good friends, as you put it, over a long period of time and he never mentioned that he knew Tony's estranged family? I know that Simmons comes from wealth, he doesn't have a problem flaunting it so more than likely he and Anton were raised together in the same environment such as school or their families ran in the same circles."

McGee looked around at his audience and noted he had caught our attention. It was obvious that McNerdy had put a lot of thought into this, behind my back I have to say and Gibbs back too if his face was any indication. But that's the way the guy was. He'd sit at the computer until his fingers fell off or he found the answer he was looking for, whichever came first. So when we all showed an interest in what he was saying, he continued uninhibited.

"I always felt there was something deeper going on in his apparent dislike of Tony, which by the way, he never tried to hide or disguise either. Could be the reason for his hostility towards Tony was caused by his taking sides with Anton DiNozzo's issues which, I am forced to conclude, would be considered a conflict of interest in that he has been assigned to this team on several occasions as back up."

I looked around to see if Ducky had returned and was giving one of his soliloquies but no, it was still Tim and he wasn't finished.

"Not only that, but his antagonism towards Tony could put him, Tony that is, in danger in the field if Matt's loyalty to Anton goes deeply enough that he hesitates to use proper force to cover Tony's back. These feelings of Matt's may be ambivalent, granted, because he appears to be an adequate agent, but you never know. And the man appears to have an intimate knowledge of the family and probably knows Gregor DiNozzo well. People's emotions are always affected more when a child is involved, and I understand Gregor DiNozzo is highly intelligent and musically gifted.

"Also, ...well, it goes even deeper. I'm pretty certain that...no, I'm absolutely sure that Matt Simmons is the boy's uncle and that his sister was the boy's mother...and...well..."

McGee seemed hesitant, almost as though he was telling secrets out of class that perhaps I didn't know or would be hurt by hearing. Thanks for caring McGee but nothing you had to say about those strangers could hurt me any more than I had already been. I was just getting ready to tell him to just spit it out...

"Just spit it out,McGee." When Gibbs did it for me.

"Yeah, okay, well Anton DiNozzo's affair with underaged TraciAnn Simmons; she was sixteen at the time, he was 22, resulted in her getting pregnant. Either she gave up the child or he was taken from her a few days after he was born but he ended up being adopted by Anthony, Sr. and Angela DiNozzo. The girl, TraciAnn, committed suicide by cutting her wrists a year later."

McGee had been perturbed when he read that.

"Look, there was always something about Simmons that made me a little uneasy, so yeah, I did a little research and now, it all makes a lot more sense. Simmons is more than likely a good man and a good Agent, don't get me wrong, I just don't think, under the circumstances, especially if anything happens to the boy that DiNozzo should be out in the field with him. Sorry, Tony."

"Don't know what you're sorry about Tim. Thanks for doing the research."

Gibbs had gotten up and walked over to stand at McGee's desk after having heard him out. He carried a frown on his already lined face.

"Yeah, McGee, this is something that is going to have to be discussed with Vance so thanks for the heads up. Better safe than having DiNozzo's sorry head blown off in friendly fire."

Gee, thanks Boss! I didn't say that out loud but he looked at me anyway shaking his head still frowning as though to say, 'only you, DiNozzo, only you.'

There was no obvious reaction on my part, one way or the other. This was just another case the team was investigating for possible ramifications within the department. 'No federal agent should potentially be put in harm's way because of any internal unresolved issues that may exist between agents whose interaction in the field could prove detrimental to one's health without proper backup.'

McGee could properly identify, if asked, the Federal Standards of Employment Hand Book information regarding the code number, docket number, make, model and year of the aforementioned gobbledygook regulations that had just spurted in my head about why Matt Simmons duplicity could not be tolerated in the field of law enforcement. In this field, if you have a grievance against someone you work with or are responsible for, you have an obligation to report such feelings for the safety of both the grieved and the griever blah, blah.

For me, Matt Simmons duplicity covered more than just on the job ambiguity. A megawatt lightbulb flash to my stupid brain and it all became clear. Matt Simmons wasn't just any run of the mill friend of Anton DiNozzo. Matt Simmons was his best friend. I had been had again!

Little Matt was the skunk who had helped Anton drag a ton of mud in the back of a motorized mini dump truck and helped dump the mud onto the scrubbed and shined tiled floor that Carla, one of the maids, and I had just spent the morning on our hands and knees doing to the bitches strict standards.

He was the friend who helped in Anton's attack against me at my grandmother's farce of a memorial service. He was the thug I had kicked in the balls, twice. Matt Simmons had held me down while his best bud broke my jaw. He was the one so indifferent as to step in my blood then complain about his 'damn dirty new sneakers' as he cleaned them on my pants leg while I lay barely conscious on the floor. He showed what kind of a public servant he would be when he used his shiny gold cigarette lighter to burn holes in my legs and arms when I was down on the ground and defenseless.

Another flash, and the snide remarks, the sly grins guarding their secrets, the wool pulled over my eyes that the knowledge of which would be beyond humiliating to me if found out, all of it made sense now. I got it now!

Simmons was the Sims in, 'get him, Sims; hold him down, Sims; go ahead burn him, Sims.' Yeah, that Sims!

God damn them to hell! Their attempts to ruin my friendship with Abby, and to use her naïveté against her because she always made the mistake to trust a person at their word was beyond cruel. Their callous attempt to take something so dear to her heart as organ transplantation to get back at me would be devastating to her, and made them the lowest scum in the pond of scum.

To alienate me from McGee by Simmons' attempt to awaken hidden avarice in him by inviting him to 'come play golf with just me and a friend,' or 'bar hopping with the rich and famous', or, 'a great party my friend is giving in Spain this weekend', or, 'your books are great, you don't see me making fun of them like DiNozzo'.

And Simmons attempts to ingratiate himself with Gibbs that was so obvious and pathetic to watch. The list could go on and on if I allowed it.

Okay, I had been played by those two, and the bitch that was behind it. I had been made a fool, again, because I really didn't recognize the grownup Simmons as Sims, one of my arch enemies. I could hear them laughing behind my back right now with drinks in hand, probably other friends around, maybe the bitch seated on her throne, on the verandah with the fans gently blowing and their expensive perfumes and colognes stinking up the air.

But I'd deal with it. I had to. I'd deal with Matt Simmons and I'd deal with Anton DiNozzo for ever thinking that they could attack me by hurting my friends! I was done running away and avoiding the issues. Me, the ultimate dumb-assed fool for letting my grandmother's wishes be deterred because it was just easier to coast along, but this time they'd gone too far.

"Everybody go home, that includes you Abby. We'll talk some more tomorrow after I've talked to Vance. We still have to work on the case we got today so get on that in the morning.

"And, Abby, I'm going to assume that you knew nothing of Matt Simmons and Anton DiNozzo's prior long-term relationship. Now, I'm asking that you not repeat any of this to Simmons at least until I have talked to Vance. This is confidential, Abby, until it has been resolved. Can you do that, Abby?"

Abby didn't look happy. "Matt hasn't done anything wrong, Gibbs, and no, I didn't know anything about any prior relationship between Matt and Anton until the party the other day and just now, the same as you. I tried to tell Tony but he wouldn't listen to me!"

Yep, in her eyes this was all my fault. She gave me an accusing look and glared at McGee for his snooping abilities.

"Can you keep this confidential, Abby?" Gibbs repeated and Abby nodded her head and said, "I can do that, Gibbs." She then turned and practically ran to the elevator.

McGee and Ziva left shortly after. I sat staring at those papers until Gibbs head slapped me into the here and now.

"You can read those papers now, read them at my house or go home and read them. But just staring at them 'til your blue won't give you x-ray vision, DiNozzo."

"Funny, Boss. Just had a revelation of sorts about some things that I need to think about. I'm outta here now, but if you could come in a little early," I saw his look. "Okay, I'll come in a little earlier and could we just go over some things before you go to see Vance?"

He raised his eyebrows but just said, "I'll see you tomorrow at six a.m. Go home!"

"Night, Boss."

I knew what was in those two pieces of paper, didn't need x-ray vision for that. Information that could put me, a Federal Agent, behind bars for life. Yeah, all I would need to do to shut them up about this was to agree to hand over my kidney. Even though I went out of my way to stay out of their way, that's how far the DiNozzo family would go to harm me.

A/N Thanks for reading. 'Til next time

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