Author's Note: This is my first NCIS story so I hope I've managed to capture the characters properly. This is set in an alternative universe where the team haven't met Tony's father yet - since I want to portray him as a more sinister character than the one portrayed by Robert Wagner - and they also haven't discovered Gibbs' big dark secret either and gone through all that drama. This is non-compliant with season eight. Also I really don't like 'skinny McGee' so try to think of him as being slighty heavier in this story. Oh yeah, from a purely aesthetic point of view, Tony is still lean and gorgeous (no offence Michael Weatherly) lol.

Chapter One

"Five more minutes," he groaned, rolling onto his other side and pulling the pillow over his head.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He sighed and rolled back over, peering blearily at his alarm clock. If his exhausted, blurry vision was to be believed then it was barely three o'clock in the morning. Rolling onto his back, he scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and groaned in frustration. God, he thought, why can't I ever get a decent night sleep? He sat up, scratching his head, making his tousled hair even messier. Yawning, he swung his legs to the floor and unsteadily rose to his feet, thankful that he had gone to bed wearing boxers and a T-shirt and not naked like he usually preferred.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"This had better be good," he muttered grumpily, stumbling from his darkened bedroom.

Slowly, he made his way along the hallway to the living room, cursing when he stubbed his toe on a lamp. Finally, he made it to the front door of his apartment just as the knocking sounded again. He squinted through the peephole, palms flat against the wood of his door. "Huh?" he said, frowning. There didn't appear to be anyone outside his apartment. "What is this Poltergeist?"

Grumbling to himself, he unbolted the locks and pulled open the door. He failed to contain the small gasp that escaped him as his gaze fell upon the small figure standing on the threshold, who stared up at him with large hazel eyes. He wasn't completely sure what he'd expected to find but it certainly wasn't this. Okay, don't panic, he thought hastily, feeling all traces of sleep leave him, you're a special agent. You can handle this!

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "Everything okay?"

The little girl clutched the stuffed bunny rabbit she was holding closer to her chest and stared back at him in silence.

"Are you lost?" he tried again. "Where's your Mommy?" He leaned out of the doorway and glanced up and down the corridor, finding it empty except for the child and himself.

Yet again the girl failed to respond, and simply continued to stare at him with those intense hazel eyes of hers.

"C'mon, kid, help me out here!" he said in frustration.

Perhaps it was something in his expression that finally got through to her because suddenly she was holding out a folded piece of paper to him. Bemused, he took it and unfolded it, reading the brief message scrawled across it. It read:

'Tony, this is Megan your daughter. I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now, but I can't handle this anymore. She's your problem now.'

He read it three times before the words finally sank in, then his chest tightened and panic set in. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! He tried to take a calming breath but his lungs didn't seem to be functioning properly. This can't be happening! How can this be happening? If there was one thing Anthony DiNozzo could be proud of, it was the fact he was always extremely careful with the women he slept with. He always used protection. Always! Okay, so maybe he might have been a little less careful right after… he broke off that train of thought and forced himself to focus on the here and now. He turned his attention back to the little girl, Megan, according to the note. For the first time, he noticed the purple rucksack strapped to her back and the small, pink, carryon suitcase by her feet. This has gotta be a mistake! There's no way I'm her father. Part of him – a small, selfish part that was currently pissing its pants – wanted to slam the door closed on her face, escape out the window and flee the country until somebody could fix this mess. The other part of him – the part which had given him the courage to go against his father's wishes and pursue a football career instead of joining the family business – forced him to swallow his denials and fears for the time being, and usher the little girl inside.

He closed and locked the door behind them, flicked the light switch and led her towards the couch. Mutely, she sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion and scooted backwards until her legs were dangling over the edge. Tony sat down on the coffee table, taking a moment to study the child in front of him. At a passing glance, you would be forgiven for thinking she was a little boy, what with her light blonde surfer boy hairstyle that fell into her eyes, and her tomboyish attire; baggy denim jeans, purple converse sneakers, a red hoodie, and a black T-shirt with a pink skull and crossbones design on the front. Abby would love this kid's sense of style, he thought with an inner smile. However, Tony was certain no little boy could ever be as small and delicate as she was, with such tiny hands, and surely eyelashes that long would just look silly on a boy. He was no expert but if he had to guess her age he would have to say she was somewhere under five. She was still staring at him, looking so lost and afraid that he felt compelled to say something to set her at ease.

"Look, Megan, right? I know you must be scared but . . . everything's going to be okay. We'll figure this out, I promise," he told her, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Unfortunately, Megan didn't look the least bit reassured. He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "It's late," he said, "and I'm pretty sure its way past your bedtime." He stood up. "C'mon, time to hit the rack. You can sleep in my bed tonight, I'll take the couch."

He turned back when he realized she wasn't following him. Megan hadn't moved from her position on the couch and was staring straight ahead. Tony sighed again. God, who was he kidding? He sucked when it came to dealing with kids. He supposed it was down to his own inadequate upbringing, it's not as if his father had provided him with the tools to handle children. After all, half of the time Anthony senior barely seemed to notice he had a son, and as for the other half…

Tony leaned against the back of the couch and tapped her on the shoulder, instantly feeling a pang of guilt when she jumped in fright. She turned tremulous eyes toward him.

"Easy," he said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt yah." He fought the urge to sigh again; nothing he did or said seemed to have any affect on her, she still looked just as afraid as when he'd first opened the door. C'mon, DiNozzo, think! What would Gibbs do? Bracing himself for her reaction he reached forward and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He expected her to flinch, or jump back or maybe even to slap his hand away, so he was surprised, therefore, when she remained still and even more surprised when the gesture seemed to finally make her relax. He shifted his hand to the top of her head and stroked his fingers through the soft, silky strands of hair, summoning a small smile to his lips when he saw the last traces of fear leave her eyes, replaced by curiosity. Moving around the sofa he helped her shrug the rucksack off her shoulders and lifted her into his arms. Tony felt another leap of surprise as Megan instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to his bedroom and set her down on his bed. After removing her hoodie and pulling off her shoes he laid her down and pulled the comforter around her.

"Get some sleep," he said, moving to the door, pausing long enough to watch her rollover and close her eyes.

He returned to the living room and collapsed on the couch. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, letting his mind go blank. Great, now what do I do? And that was the question, wasn't it. Just how did he deal with this situation? Well, first things first, I'm gonna need a paternity test. Abby could easily run one for him. Of course, if he let Abby know about this then there was no way he could keep it from the others. Keep it from Gibbs. He closed his eyes and groaned. Gibbs is gonna kill me. The ex-marine was going to be furious when he found out about Megan, and worse than that, he'd be disappointed. If there was one thing Anthony DiNozzo hated it was to be a disappointment. His entire childhood he'd strived for his father's approval, never once receiving it. He pushed himself forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and cradling his face between his palms. Oh God! This is so screwed up! What am I gonna do? He glanced over at the note, which he'd left on the coffee table.

"It's gotta be a mistake," he muttered. "I can't have a kid! It's just not possible."

With Megan asleep and out of sight Tony felt his calm facade rapidly crumbling as he descended once again into mind-numbing panic. He snatched up the note, reading through it again, as if hoping it would suddenly reveal some new clues. This is insane! He tried and failed to calm his slightly erratic breathing. This chick has to have me mixed up with some other Tony. He wasn't father material! He was Tony DiNozzo; loud, brass and immature! He didn't know how to take care of a child. Hell, he couldn't even take care of sea-monkeys never mind a kid! He suddenly found himself on his feet and pacing, though he couldn't recall standing.

"Okay, think, DiNozzo. We need a plan of action!" he muttered to himself, striding back and forth between the sofa and coffee table. "Alright, I'll sneak into work early with the kid and hide in Abby's lab until she can do a paternity test."

He paused momentarily as he imagined his father's response to such an idea. DiNozzos don't sneak, Junior, and they certainly do not hide! Tony could almost hear that deep, pompous voice, inflecting each word with contempt and authority; it was as if the man himself was here in the room with him – summoned by his memories – and Tony fought the urge to glance about the room to be sure he was alone. He started pacing again.

"Okay," he began again, attempting to instill confidence in his tone. "I will arrive promptly at work and stride confidently into the building, acting as if nothing is amiss – despite the fact that I have a child in tow – I will then take the elevator to Abby's lab and wait for her to do a paternity test."

He came to another stop. What the hell did he do after that? Would that be the right time to tell Gibbs? He grimaced. Somehow he couldn't picture that conversation ending well. 'Hey, Gibbs, you'll never guess what happened to me this morning, it seems there's a good chance I impregnated some woman whose name I don't know and, oh yeah, this mystery woman "accidently" ditched the kid at my door without leaving a forwarding address.' Considering he was unlikely to live very long after such a conversation perhaps it would be safer to postpone it until he could gather more information.

"Which means, I gotta figure out who Megan's mom is." With a groan Tony dropped back onto the couch. "How the hell am I gonna do that?"

His eyes fell upon the note once more. With a leap of inspiration, he launched himself out of his seat. Abby could lift prints from it! He was halfway to the kitchen – in search of an evidence bag he was sure he had stashed away somewhere – when a flaw in his plan suddenly occurred to him. Lifting prints from the note would only help him if Megan's mother had her prints in AFIS, and the odds of this woman having a record were extremely unlikely; he didn't exactly make it a habit to date criminals, and despite what everyone may think, he did have some standards about the women he slept with. Still, can't hurt to try.

In the end, he had to make do with a Resealable sandwich bag to preserve the evidence on the note. Feeling significantly calmer, Tony retrieved a blanket from the hall closet, switched off the light and settled down on the couch. Everything will be fine, he told himself, closing his eyes. The paternity tests will come back negative, we'll track down this woman and make her understand that this is just some big misunderstanding and she and Megan will go on their merry way and everything will go back to normal. He was deluded if he thought it would be that easy but if it helped him sleep for the time being then, so be it.

Things would have gone a great deal smoother later that morning if only Tony had remembered to set an alarm on his cell phone. Unfortunately, with Megan in his room and Tony in the living room, he didn't hear his alarm clock go off and therefore slept through it.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

Tony frowned in his sleep and tried to swat away an imaginary bee.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

He groaned in frustration and swiped his arm fiercely through the air above his head in an attempt to rid himself of the annoying insect.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

Wait! That's not a bee, that's my …! With a jolt he sat up. "Agh! What? I'm up, I'm up, I'm – SHIT!" He leapt off the sofa, limbs heavy with sleep flailing, and pounced on his cell phone, which he'd left on the floor the night before plugged into the charger. Reaching it just in time he flipped it open and smashed it against his ear. "DiNozzo!" he gasped into the speaker.

"Tony! Where the hell are you?" demanded the imperious Israeli tones of one Ziva David. "You are over an hour late for work! I've already left you three messages! Is there a reason you haven't answered any of your calls?"

Tony baulked. Over an hour late? Aw crap! So much for sneaking in unnoticed.

"Sorry, Ziva, I slept in," he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Were you drinking last night?" she asked incredulously.

"No!" It was true, he'd been a good boy last night, he'd stayed at home and watched DVDs, he'd even gone to bed early and he would've been at work on time if it hadn't been for his disturbing 3 A.M. wakeup call. The silence on the other end of the phone was skeptical. "I wasn't!"

"Then how did you manage to sleep in?"

"It's . . . complicated." He didn't appreciate her contemptuous snort as he mentioned the 'C' word. "Look, I'll explain when I get in! Has . . . has Gibbs noticed I'm not there?" he asked, dreading the answer. The last thing he wanted to do was inform an already pissed off Gibbs that he'd been saddled with some kid he may or may not be the father to.

"Fortunately, no, he has not noticed. Gibbs has been in a meeting in MTAC all morning."

Tony sighed in relief. There was hope for him yet. "Great, look I'm on my way. If Gibbs comes out of MTAC before I get in, stall him for me."

"How do you expect me to –!"

Tony snapped the phone shut before Ziva could finish. The sound of soft footfalls made him glance over his shoulder to see Megan walk around the couch. She stopped and stared at him in bewilderment. He supposed he must look quite a sight sprawled on his stomach on the floor with the blanket tangled around his legs.

"Good morning!" he said, pulling on his famous mega watt smile. "Sleep well?"

Her only answer was to rub the sleep from her eyes using her knuckles. Tony refused to admit the action was sort of cute. The last thing he planned on doing was forming a bond with the kid. The sooner he got shot of her the better. He pushed off from the floor and got to his feet.

"Hey, I'm kinda running late for work so I need you to get yourself changed while I grab a quick shower," he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "A really, really quick shower."

He wasn't sure why he was expecting a response from her, after all it wasn't as if she'd spoken a single word to him since he'd found her, still it was no less frustrating when she just stood there and stared at him blankly. What the hell was he doing wrong? Sure he sucked with kids but it had never been this bad before. Usually he got some kind of reaction out of them. With Megan it was just stony silence and a look of bemusement. It was almost like being around Gibbs! He sighed in annoyance.

"C'mon, kid, work with me here! I know this is all confusing and scary and I'm trying my best here, I really am, but I need your help!" he exclaimed irritably. "Can you dress yourself? Huh? Did your mommy teach you how to dress yourself?"

Megan's response was a small frown. Tony barely resisted the urge to grab his hair and snarl in exasperation. What had he done to deserve this?

"Alright, I'll skip the shower and help you dress," he said, grabbing her rucksack and suitcase and ushering her from the room. "But we really need to hurry, okay? My boss is already gonna kick my ass once he finds out about you and if he finds out I'm late too . . . well, lets just say the results wont be pretty." Reaching his bedroom he sat down on his bed and zipped open the small pink suitcase. "Let's see what we've got."

With some trepidation he stared at all the tiny outfits folded neatly in the suitcase. He hesitated a moment before pulling out a blue, long-sleeved T-shirt with the words 'little miss sunny' scrawled across it, along with fresh socks and a pair of jeans. Now for the tricky part, he thought, squirming slightly in embarrassment. Think, Tony, how did your nanny do it?

"Uh . . . arms up," he said, gesturing with the T-shirt. He felt a tiny leap of pride when she actually did as he asked. Feeling a little awkward, he pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside before helping her into the fresh one. He hesitated again when it came to her jeans. Oh God, why the hell did I agree to this? Dressing a kid is really more a mother's job, maybe not my mother but certainly most normal mothers. "I'm . . . um, just gonna . . . you know, so we can err. . ."

He could feel himself blushing as she just stood there staring at him. Her gaze was cool and assessing as she chewed her lower lip. He wasn't sure why but Tony felt like he was being tested. Swallowing his remaining embarrassment he slipped off her old jeans and helped her step into the new ones, ignoring how small her hands looked as she braced herself against his forearms. He pulled her onto his lap to change her socks and put on her shoes.

"You know how to tie your laces?" he asked curiously, pretending he didn't notice how nice her hair smelled; like strawberries. "My nanny taught me how when I was five," he told her casually as he tied the laces of her left sneaker. "How old are you by the way?"

He really wasn't surprised when no answer was forthcoming. This kid would do great in interrogation. It was beginning to feel like Tony was speaking another language.

"You really don't want to talk to me, do you?" he said, smiling slightly. "Can't say I really blame yah, I'm something of an acquired taste."

He set her back on her feet and stood up, dashing to his dresser and whipping out a T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.

"Get it in gear, DiNozzo," he muttered, ripping off his old shirt and stuffing his head and arms into the clean one. "Clock's ticking."

Tony already had one leg in his pants and was hopping up and down on one foot, attempting to shove his other leg through, when he suddenly lost his balance and toppled stupendously to the floor with a loud grunt. A peel of soft, gurgling laughter had him looking up from his prone position. Megan's face was split in a beautiful – yet disturbingly familiar – pearly white grin. It was the first time he'd seen her smile and he couldn't help but feel slightly dazzled by it and before he knew what he was doing, he felt a matching grin spread over his own face.

"Yah think that's funny, huh?" he asked, chuckling. He flipped onto his back and pulled his pants on the rest of the way.

After pulling on socks and shoes, Tony grabbed his gear and headed out the door, dragging Megan behind him by the hand. Breakfast could wait. It was time to face the music . . . and Gibbs.

The drive to the Navy Yard could only be described as tense. He tried many times to initiate conversation; foolishly hoping that their little moment back in his apartment had helped to get through to her. Unfortunately, this was not the case. His questions about her mother, her home, and her life all went unanswered. It wasn't that he didn't have her attention, from her position in the passengers' seat she sat turned towards him, avidly watching his face. It was just she didn't seem inclined to speak to him. Maybe she's shy, he thought fairly, really, really shy. Or maybe it was him she didn't like. Eventually he gave up and switched the radio on and after a while Megan's gaze drifted to the window.

He managed to get into the building with nothing more than a few funny looks and was able to reach the elevator before anyone could ask any awkward questions. He couldn't help but heave a small sigh of relief when the elevator doors finally slid open and he was able to step inside, towing Megan along with him. Okay, Tony, now comes the tricky part; getting to Abby's lab without McGee and Ziva (and possibly Gibbs) noticing me. How the hell was he going to do that? How was he going to get to the back elevator without the others seeing him? Think, man, think! He was beginning to feel queasy. This was such a bad idea, he thought miserably. I should have gone on the run! Anxiously, he ran a hand through his hair and froze, suddenly realizing that his hair was sticking up on one side. Aw crap! I should have gone for that shower; I must look like a freaking hobo! Desperately, he tried to flatten the unruly spikes, growling in frustration when he felt his hair spring back up. He was rapidly losing his cool as the elevator approached the squad-room. He still had no idea how he was going to get to Abby's lab without anyone noticing his sloppy appearance and the small child following him. He shifted his feet restlessly as the elevator edged ever closer to his destination. Gotta think of a plan. Gotta think of a plan! He closed his eyes and tapped his fist against his forehead. I know! I'll cause some sort of diversion and slip past while everyone is distracted! But how do I cause a diversion?

Before he could even begin to formulate a plan, the elevator shuddered to a stop. He opened his eyes just as the doors slid open with a ding! Tony felt his stomach plummet; he really must have the worst luck in the world. Only Anthony DiNozzo would have the misfortune to come face-to-face with the one person he so desperately wanted to avoid; Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And the clouds opened up and God said: 'I hate you, Tony.'

"Uh …"

"You're late, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, fixing Tony with that piercing blue gaze of his.

"Ha! You noticed that, huh?" said Tony, plastering a wide grin onto his lips. "See, I can explain that, boss …"

"Yeah?" said Gibbs, taking a step closer and raising a single eyebrow; daring Tony to make up one of his phony excuses again.

Tony chuckled nervously. "Yeah . . . I um . . . w-well, see what h-happened is …"

A movement behind Tony drew Gibbs' attention away from the senior field agent and onto Megan who was peering shyly up at the ex-marine from behind Tony's long legs. Tony held his breath. He watched numbly as a small frown appeared between Gibbs' eyebrows and then winced when the man's steely gaze snapped back to his face. Prepare to die, DiNozzo.

"There something you wanna tell me, DiNozzo?" he asked sharply.

Tony opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like some bizarre, Italian breed of goldfish. This was harder than he'd imagined. How on earth did you explain something like this? "Errrr …"

"This the reason you're late?" demanded Gibbs.

"Yes, boss," said Tony meekly, bracing himself for Gibbs' reaction. "I found her at my door this morning, she –"

"Let me guess," Gibbs interrupted, "she had some sort of note saying you're her father."

"Yeah," said Tony, taken aback. "That's actually exactly what happened. How'd you guess, boss?"

"Two reasons," said Gibbs. "Number one, considering the amount of women you've dated since I've known you, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."

Ouch. I suppose I deserved that. "And number two?"

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment with an expression Tony had never seen before. "She has your eyes, DiNozzo."

It was like a slap to the face. What? That's, that's crazy talk! He was gawking open-mouthed at his boss and the bastard had the audacity to smirk at him before crouching down to Megan's eye level.

"So, what's your name then?" he asked, speaking in that soft, gentle tone he reserved for children.

Tony expected Megan to make a fool of him and start gabbing away to Gibbs like they were old friends. He'd seen it happen countless times before. Kids were just automatically drawn to Gibbs, as if the man had some kind of magnetic pull. So Tony was surprised, therefore, when Megan merely smiled and remained stubbornly mute. Tony wasn't the only one who looked surprised either, Gibbs had clearly expected more than a simple smile.

"Don't take it personally, boss, she hasn't strung two words together since I found her," said Tony bracingly. "According to the note her name is Megan."

"Strong silent type, huh?" said Gibbs. A wide grin spread across his face, transforming his features. "I can relate to that. It's nice to meet you, Megan, I'm Gibbs." He held out his large callused hand and after a moment's hesitation she accepted the handshake; her delicate hand dwarfed by the ex-marine's. "You know, my friend Abby would love to meet you, why don't we go down and see her together?"

Tony was half hoping that Gibbs would finally get a response out of her; it would be nice to hear what her voice sounded like. Not that he was interested or anything because he wasn't. He was disappointed, then, when she remained obstinately silent. However, there was something about Gibbs that inspired another one of those beautiful, pearly white grins of hers; which Gibbs seemed to construe as a 'yes' because he suddenly stood up and lifted Megan into his arms in one fluid motion.

"Coming, DiNozzo?" he asked, turning away from the elevator.

"Boss?"

"Well, you did plan on getting a paternity test, didn't you, DiNozzo?"

"Oh . . . right," said Tony, jogging to catch up.

As they passed by the bullpen McGee and Ziva looked up curiously. Ziva opened her mouth to say something but Tony held up his hands to stall her, 'later' he mouthed, following Gibbs to the back elevator. He hopped through the elevator doors just as they were sliding closed; taking up position by Gibbs' side. Although she still wasn't talking, Megan did appear to like Gibbs, at the very least she seemed fascinated by his rather unique hairstyle; she kept running her hands over the side and back of his head (where the silver hair was shortest), causing the lead agent to smirk in amusement.

"Trying something new with your hair, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked causally.

"Huh?"

"Is the whole 'hobo look' some sorta fashion statement?" Gibbs deadpanned.

With a flush, Tony suddenly remembered what a state he must look with his faded jeans, wrinkled T-shirt and his hair standing to attention on one side. "Very funny, boss," he grumbled, attempting to flatten his hair again.

The corner of Gibbs' mouth quirked up on one side, forming that famous half-smile he wore from time to time. Normally, Tony would've been pleased with himself for causing that smile to appear on his boss' face but not when it was at his expense.

"Gimme a break, would'ja, I had a very weird wakeup call at 3 A.M. this morning, so forgive me for sleeping in and not looking my best."

"3 A.M.?" said Gibbs incredulously, leaning past Megan's blonde head to stare at his agent.

"I know! I couldn't believe it either," said Tony, a little angrily. "Kid should've been in bed asleep, not at my doorstep! I mean it, when we find her M-O-M I'm gonna have a serious talk with her."

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment, one silver eyebrow raised.

"What?" Tony demanded, unnerved by the way his leader was staring at him and yet unable to explain just why it made him uncomfortable.

Gibbs shrugged and looked away. Tony frowned and stared straight ahead, trying to flatten his hair for the third time.

"Hey, boss, you were just kidding, right?" said Tony, plastering a fake grin onto his face. "I mean, about Megan having my eyes, you were just messing with me, weren't you?"

Gibbs turned his light blue eyes onto him; his expression unreadable. Tony felt the elevator shudder beneath his feet. Ding! And then Gibbs was gone, leaving Tony with a rising sense of dread twisting in his gut. He hurried to catch up with the former marine.