A sequel to Mother Love.
DiNozzo is thinking about the letter he received from Jeanne.
A DiNozzo-centric gen story.
Written: November 2012. Word count:
The sun shone into his apartment as Tony sat on his couch an open bottle of beer in one hand, a letter in the other. He read the letter again. It had arrived minutes before he was about to leave his apartment to go to work and without looking at the return address he'd ripped it open and read it. He'd then read it again and then a third time before collapsing onto the couch and staring at the wall.
By the time he'd recovered enough to leave his apartment he was already late. He'd raced into the squad room muttering an apology, but offering none of his usual excuses. Gibbs had looked up from the file he'd been studying and stared hard at Tony before turning his attention back to the file.
By mid-afternoon Tony had barely done any work, had spoken no more than a handful of words, had failed to flirt with the devastatingly attractive new female clerk nor made any sarcastic comments when he'd heard McGee telling Ziva he had a date. Twenty minutes later Gibbs had come over to his desk and told him to go home and not come back until he'd sorted his head out.
That was why he was sitting on the couch in daylight his mind churning, his thoughts tumbling over one another. He had a daughter; he had fathered a child; together with Jeanne he had created a new life. He was a father. A father. Him. He had a daughter.
He tried to be angry with Jeanne for keeping the news from him until now. But he couldn't be; he understood why she hadn't told him. They weren't together; they wouldn't be together; he could understand why she hadn't told him. In fact her saying she hadn't wanted to spoil his life in any way touched him deeply.
And he understood why she'd finally decided to tell him; why the death of her mother and the realization she was alone and that Bella would be alone if she died, had changed her mind and led her to writing to him.
He had no doubt at all he'd say 'yes' to her request to leave a letter with her lawyer to be forwarded to him in event of her death before Bella turned eighteen. He had no doubt at all; if anything happened to Jeanne, he wanted to be the one to care for their daughter.
But what he didn't know, what he wasn't certain about, was whether when he replied to Jeanne he would ask her if he could meet Bella; if he could be involved in her life; get to know her. It wouldn't be easy as he was in America and Jeanne and Bella in France, but if he was determined . . .
But would it be fair? Would it be fair to Bella? Fair to Jeanne? Fair to him? Fair to any future wife he may have? That was the question; and he still didn't have the answer.
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