Summary: On April 26, 1971, both James David Rossi and Anthony David DiNozzo were born in the same New York hospital. When newborn DiNozzo dies in his mother's arms, Senior makes a life altering decision that forever changes the lives of two Italian families.

Warnings: Just some good ol' kidnapping of a newborn and cursing.

Author's Note: Okay, so, I changed the birth year of the Rossi and DiNozzo characters to better fit my bit of fanfiction. Basically, this story is gonna be one of those "my newborn died so my husband decided to switch my dead baby for a different alive Italian baby" stories. Enjoy!


Anthony David DiNozzo Senior was not a happy man. He stood tall next to his wife and newborn, his light gray Ermenegildo Zegna Bespoke suit jacket thrown carefully on the uncomfortable hospital chair next to the large single bed in the private room. He wore an expensive dark blue button down tucked fashionably into his gray trousers, a black belt and tan colored Italian leather shoes finishing his $23,000 outfit. Next to him sat Josephine Ethel DiNozzo, a small, frail Italian woman with a hot body and even better assets. It was, in fact, the way she used those assets was how she snuck her way into Anthony Senior's heart nearly a year ago. Now, they were here. To her husband, it was her fault they were in their current situation. His wife wore a blue gown with a stereotypical 1970s circle design. The cloth was cheap, in his opinion. Josie, his petname for his wife, held a small lifeless infant in her cradled arms.

"I'm so sorry," she was crying through a light accent. Her small chin shook violently as she cried, large rounded tears falling from her tall cheek bones. She could be a model if she wanted to, the man decided, with her beauty in any situation. Mascara from the night before mixed with the salty liquid, creating a black trail down her cheeks. "I fell asleep while Little Antonio was drinking from my breasts …he was – he – he was like this when I woke up. I'm so sorry. He won't – he won't wake up and I'm sorry, Anthony." She looked up to him pathetically with bright blue eyes.

Bending forward, the no nonsense businessman smiled comfortingly to his wife. "You're fine," the first generation American of his Italian family said, slowly brushing Josie's wild brown hair behind her left ear. "The boy is still warm, my love," he said flashing a large, flirtatious smile. "If a nurse asks, simply tell her I took our child to the nursery." Slowly he took the swathed infant into his strong arms from his wife's, whispering to her, "Do stop crying. It will make us look suspicious. Got it?" When she continued to cry, he slapped her, holding his lifeless child with one arm. "I asked you a question. Do you want a child?"

"I – yes," she nodded her head several times. "Darling, all I ever wanted was a child with you."

"Then stop blubbering. I'm going to make a small switch in the nursery and I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Be sure to feed Junior in the morning."

"Okay," she whispered, looking to her shaking pale arms with sad blue eyes. Her fingers were numb. She had killed her baby. Her sweet, innocent little boy. She did it, no one else. Slowly, Josie closed her eyes, leaning against the comfortable pillows of the bed. She nodded to herself and thought of ways to be a better person, a better mother.

Starting tomorrow, she would only hold her son when she was supposed to. Tomorrow, she said to herself, she would love him every day of his life. Tomorrow, she would be sure to help her son with whatever he needed. Tomorrow, she would become a better person.

Tomorrow.


Anthony David DiNozzo Senior walked down the hospital corridors with his casual, businessman stride. He had a smile on his face, large, happy and seemingly carefree; to any other person in the hospital, he looked like a husband holding his newborn. Nobody knew the child was dead, that his mother murdered him. No one needed to know, either. He arrived to the nursery within minutes, standing in front of the large window to see rows and rows of potential new sons. The majority of the newborns were swindled in blue, with two empty bassinets on opposite sides of the room. There were fifteen rows, eleven in each isle. Anthony smiled to himself; he could have a new son, better and stronger. A female nurse in a white uniform dress walked into the room carrying a small baby boy in a blue blanket, setting the child down in one of the empty and clear bassinets. He felt himself tighten his grip on the boy his wife gave birth to, hiding its dead face into his chest.

"Is that your boy," a man asked next to him, appearing out of nowhere. He wore cheap, inexpensive black pants and a light purple button up. The man was clean shaved with thick eyebrows. He had a long, Italian nose, a small, rounded chin and short brown hair and eyes. His tall, military demeanor screamed through his new parent smile.

Anthony himself, much like the obvious new father, had brown eyes. He could work with that. If the nurse who just laid a newborn baby boy in the nursery was anything to go by, this man just had a son. A strong personality, like the man who stood beside him had, like the man's son would probably gain, was a good thing if the businessman wanted his son to take over the company as an adult. After his study of the man who stood empty handed, Anthony nodded, deepening his greedy smile. "My wife wanted to keep our boy with her, but I wanted to make sure she got some real rest tonight. You know?"

The man laughed, throwing his head back. His bright brown eyes squinted with the movements. "David Rossi," he said, standing with his hands on his hips.

"Anthony DiNozzo Senior," he answered accordingly, holding his dead baby one handed with his left side. "Pleasure to meet you. First time dad?"

"Yeah," he laughed with what Senior supposed was glee. "My wife and I didn't think we could have children. It's a happy day for our family."

"Ha, I understand. Congratulations," Anthony said, trying to keep the conversation short.

Rossi, however, would not have it. He kept digging, taking in the DiNozzo's short brown hair and criminal, wanting brown eyes. He had a large alcohol induced gut that the FBI special agent did not, and his business like and harsh personality made the man stand out. His exterior screamed old money, making Rossi assume he would do anything to get what he wanted. He could only guess what the man wanted, and probably would never know, either. His stomach twisted slightly. The way he held his newborn put Rossi on edge. The obvious businessman had fat fingers, a golden ring on his right ring finger, and he snuggled, strangled, almost, his son to his chest. "Thanks so much." The FBI agent said, his smile brightening. "I can't believe it. Same to you, I suppose. Were you excited?"

"Ah, very." He rubbed the infant's small body lovingly. "My wife and I, we were very surprised when she was told of the pregnancy – but, of course, happy."

Rossi nodded, laughing with the man. He should lay back, he thought to himself. Stop finding work and bringing it home. He was a father now, and he needed to be home more often. Perhaps transfer from the BAU, maybe enter a nice white collar unit. Heck, he snorted internally, he might even snag a nine to five job. Once again, the agent smiled, his large white teeth prominent. "Good meeting you. I'm going back home for the night. You want to grab a beer?"

"No," Anthony laughed. "I'm more of a rum and coke kind of guy myself. Another night? I'm exhausted."

"Consider it done. Find me in room 231 tomorrow. See you around?"

"Yes," the businessman said, once again moving his cradled son into his chest, supporting him to his left side to shake Rossi's hand. "Have a good night."

"You, too," the agent called, nodding his head as he walked away.

Anthony DiNozzo smiled. That Rossi was a smooth talker, happy and kind. He couldn't wait to take that from the other Italian. The nurse left the room minutes later, and all too soon, Anthony made the switch with the newborns. He smiled as he did so. Both boys had brown hair and small bodies. No one would know or suspect a thing. He simply switched ID bands around the boys, placing his new son in the bassinet that read Anthony David DiNozzo, leaving his old son, the weak thing that it was, in James David Rossi's crib.

Only the strong survived in this world; everyone knew that. Sometimes, though, people needed to carve paths for the weak to become strong. His new son would have a better life now, one with a rich family. The boy would have anything his heart could desire. Toys and money; what more could the infant want? "Goodnight, Junior," he whispered when he slipped out the empty room nearly as fast as he entered. He wasn't sure which child he was talking to.


He didn't know where he was going. Anthony DiNozzo Senior was walking slowly, contemplating what he just did. He still has a son. He and his wife were going to raise a male heir to their combined fortune, whether that child would be happy or not, that part was unknown. He continued his journey until, somehow, he stood near maternity room 231. He wasn't thinking when he entered the opened room quietly, stumbling – damn it, did he scruff his new shoes? – when he did so. A small sleeping woman was the only occupant besides himself in the room. She was rather small, tiny, compared to his own wife. She had brownish blond hair and, according to her hospital chart, green eyes. She weighed 124 pounds. Not bad, Anthony thought to himself. She breathed lightly, kindly. Her whole aroma screamed new mother. Even in her exhausted sleep, she smiled.

Carolyn was a good name for the woman, meaning that of joy. Anthony could see that. He supposed, he thought as he walked from the room, consciously walking towards the hospital exit, that she wouldn't be very joyful tomorrow. Carolyn Rossi was married to the man he had met in the hallway, David. David himself had said the couple had been surprised the two had actually had a child. Tomorrow, though, the strangers would not have a child. Tomorrow, Anthony would. He and Josie would have a son when they awoke in the morning. He knew he would, he assured that fact when he switched the children.

Walking to his car, he smiled once again to himself. He would have a son in the morning. He wasn't sure if it would be happy, or kind, or even a good kid, but that didn't matter, because that kid was his. His son and nobody else's.


Notes: The first chapter is complete. I'll continue soon, within the next two weeks. What do you guys think? Reviews keep this story going, so please drop a comment and tell me anything that could be better or what was wrong or anything of the sorts. I love criticism.

Thank you for your support,

The Reading Elf