Unwanted Houseguests
by Eligent
Summary: Lately, it seems like McGee's apartment is just overrun with uninvited people.
A/N: Not that it's really that important for the story, but the timeline is somewhere around season four or five. Usual disclaimers apply. Hope you enjoy.
McGee woke to the sound of someone raiding his fridge. And even though he highly doubted that any kidnappers or murders would take the time to fix themselves a sandwich before doing their evil deeds to him, he still reached for his gun before swinging his legs off the bed and tiptoeing out into the main room. But the dark, curly hair had him putting the gun down again. "Sarah!" he complained. "Do you want to get shot?"
"You don't have any eggs," she answered without turning around. "And maybe your first instinct when you have guests shouldn't be to shoot them."
"Guests?" McGee answered unsympathetically. "It's looks more like burglary to me. How did you get in here, anyway?"
"With the key you gave me the last time I was here, of course," Sarah said flippantly.
"I never gave you a key," McGee protested.
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Did!"
"Didn't!"
"Yes, you did," Sarah said with a so-there attitude. "You left it in your coat pocket for me to find."
"In mycoat pocket!?" McGee exclaimed. "You mean you stole it?"
"You're my brother, of course I didn't steal it," Sarah sounded insulted. "We share everything, don't we? Why aren't there any eggs?"
McGee frowned at the quick change of subject. "Because I don't like eggs that much."
"But I do," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "Didn't mom teach you any manners? Good hosts keep a full fridge."
"And good guests phone ahead," Tim growled.
"I'm not a guest, I'm your sister," Sarah shot back.
"Then I'm not a host, I'm your brother," Tim retorted.
"Fine," Sarah rolled her eyes at him. "Just pick up some groceries on your way home."
"Why?" McGee asked suspiciously, then he saw the suitcases standing by the door. "Sarah, just how long are you planning on staying?"
"Oh, I don't know," Sarah shrugged. "'Til graduation?"
"Graduation?" McGee said shrilly. "But that's years away! What's wrong with your dorm? Has the university kicked you out?"
"Of course not," Sarah scoffed at him. "Greta and I don't just get along anymore. She's such a know-it-all! I just wanted a change of venue."
"For a few years?" Tim exclaimed. "Where are you planning to sleep?"
Sarah shrugged. "What's wrong with your bed?"
"Uh… I'm in it?"
"Every night?" She raised an eyebrow teasingly at him.
"Yes!"
"Seriously, Tim, you need to get a girlfriend," Sarah shook her head sadly at him. "Can't you just swing by IKEA on your way home and pick up a bed? If we move your writing desk—"
"No!" McGee shouted. "No. No IKEA, no groceries… I don't want to move my writing desk. I write at my writing desk. Why don't you move back in with mom and dad?"
"Because I'm an adult, Tim," Sarah rolled her eyes again. "I don't want to live with mom and dad."
"But you have no problem mooching of your older brother? How very grown up of you."
"Hey, I'm living off student loans here!" Sarah defended herself. "Do you mind if I eat the last of the sugary cereal?"
"Would it matter if I did?" In the bedroom McGee's alarm clock started beeping. He turned around and glared at it. "I have to get ready for work. Can you fix me some breakfast too?"
"Nag, nag, nag," Sarah said. "Can you pick up some eggs on your way home or not?"
"Not! There's a grocery store five minutes from here," McGee yelled from the bedroom. "You can buy your own eggs."
"I have to study all day," Sarah yelled back. "Come on, Tim. Be a mensch!"
Tim sighed. Why had he let his sister become spoiled rotten? He should've put his foot down 20 years ago. He should make her get her own groceries. But somehow he knew there would be a carton of eggs in his bag when he got back from work today.
"You're late" Tony accused him as soon as he opened the door to the studio apartment they were using for the stakeout.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," McGee apologized. "I had a surprise guest this morning."
"Ah, McGee, you finally got your period?" Tony clapped his hands together in mock glee. "Congratulations, you're now a woman."
McGee sighed. "Ziva?" he begged. She obliged him and smacked Tony in the back of the head.
"It was my sister," Tim explained. "She's had a tiff with her roommate and has now decided to squat at my place for a while."
"A tiff?" Tony asked with raised eyebrows. "Are you sure you're not a woman?"
Ziva frowned. "Has her roommate injured her, McGee?"
"What?" Tim said surprised. "No, of course not!"
"Then why can't she sit properly? Why does she have to squat?"
"In this case, squatting means living illegally in a condemned building," Tony explained.
"Has your building been condemned, McGee?" Ziva asked sympathetically. "Do you need a place to stay?
"Thank you, Ziva, but there's nothing wrong with my building," McGee said. "It's the living illegally part that concerns me. Where's Gibbs?"
"He went home when his relief got here," Tony said sourly. "But I had to stay here and wait for you."
"And we all know how desperately you need your beauty sleep," Ziva taunted him. Tony made a face at her.
"I said I was sorry," McGee said. "Anything happen last night?"
"Ziva can fill you in. I'm going home to sleep." Tony slammed the door behind him.
McGee smiled a Ziva. "He's cranky when he's tired, isn't he?"
Ziva went and sat down by the window, picking up a pair of binoculars. "According to Gibbs, MacCleran has been asleep all night. No one's been near his door except the newspaper boy."
"All right," Tim said, picking up the log and skimming through it. "I hope the dealers show up soon. I'm getting bored with this place."
They already knew that MacCleran supplied the drugs that were being sold all over Norfolk naval base, now they were just waiting to see who it was that was bringing the drugs from MacCleran to the base, but they were now four days into the stakeout and so far no one had shown up.
"Me too," Ziva said. "Get me some coffee?"
"Sure." McGee went into the small kitchenette. The coffeepot was full, complementary of Gibbs, he presumed. He poured them both a cup and went back to the window, sitting down next to Ziva and handing her a cup. "Here you go."
"Thanks," she said. She blew on her coffee, took a sip and peered at McGee over the rim of her cup. "You and your sister are very close, yes?"
"Yeah, I guess so," McGee said, staring out the window. "No, I mean, I know so. We're close."
"That's nice," Ziva commented. "I miss that."
"Your sister?" McGee asked.
"Yes," Ziva said. "She was my best friend, I think. My closest ally. She always came to me with her problems. I was quite proud of that, to tell you the truth. That she trusted me the most in the world."
McGee smiled crookedly. "I get your point. Of course I'm going to let her stay with me for a while. It's just that it's a small apartment, and Sarah's a big person."
Ziva frowned. "I don't remember her being fat."
"She's not!" Tim protested. "I just mean that she takes up a lot of space. She's loud and opinionated and colorful and messy and, well… rather selfish at times."
"She sounds a lot like Abby," Ziva commented.
"Yeah," McGee said thoughtfully. "Yeah, they do have a lot in common, I suppose. I never really thought about it that way before. I'm not going to let her stay until graduation, though. No way. I'll give her a few days to cool off, and then I'll see about getting her back to campus, or getting her an apartment of her own."
"Very sensible," Ziva agreed. "Very brotherly. I'm sure she'll be fine."
It was closing in on lunchtime when they finally hit pay dirt.
"I've got people arriving," Ziva said, reaching for the camera.
"Nice," McGee said. "You getting any good pictures." He grabbed the laptop from the table and opened the appropriate software.
"See for yourself," Ziva commented, as the pictures automatically started downloading onto the computer. McGee quickly chose the most suitable ones and uploaded them to a facial recognition program.
"Bingo!" he exclaimed. "Ensign Joseph Marino and Lieutenant j.g. Tommy Roxenhall, both stationed at Norfolk."
"Well, then," Ziva said, "Let's get the ball rolling."
In the end, it turned out to be a perfectly executed raid. Backup arrived promptly and all three men were caught in the act without a single shot being fired and Tony, having been home sleeping, missed out on all the exiting action, but came back just in time to help with the boring evidence gathering. They also retrieved both the drugs and the money meant for payment, 500 000 dollars in cash.
"What's with drug runners today?" Ziva complained. "Haven't they heard of internet banking?"
"There's probably money laundering involved," McGee commented as he carefully sealed an evidence box with all the money in.
They ran the evidence in and left it all with Abby, before proceeding with interrogating the suspects.
"What do you think, boss?" Tony asked late in the afternoon.
Gibbs scratched his head. "They are obviously not the brains of the operation," he said. "But they're unusually tight-lipped about who the boss is. I had expected them to break by now."
"Maybe a night in jail will soften them up," Tony said.
"It's happened before," Gibbs agreed. "You can all call it a night, now. There's nothing pressing that needs to been done tonight."
"Thanks, boss," all three said in unison, gathering up their things and taking off.
Tim stepped out of the elevator at home, keeping the door from closing with his foot as he started to empty out the elevator. Not only had he picked up eggs, bacon, sugary cereal and a whole lot of other types of food he knew Sarah favored, he had also swung by a department store and bought an air mattress, a cover and a pillow. Now the only challenge he had left was to convince Sarah that the air mattress was for her, and the bed was for him. He did not look forward to that argument, but he had decided to be firm.
He dragged everything to the end of the hall and unlocked his door. Then he dragged everything inside, kicked the door shut behind him and sighed deeply. Apparently Sarah's suitcases had exploded and deposited all of her belongings in untidy heaps all over the room. The kitchen was full of crumbs and spills, and the sink was full of dishes. His sister was an enigma. How could she claim there was no edible food in the house and still use so many dishes?
"Sarah?" he called as he lifted the grocery bags up on the counter and opened the fridge. "Sarah? Come out here and help me. Now, please."
"Ti- Tim?"
The shaky whisper had him twirling around in an instant, with his heart in his throat. In the bedroom doorway stood Sarah with a black-haired man, wearing a gray US Navy sweatshirt and jeans, who had an arm tightly wound around her waist and a gun with a silencer harshly pressed into her side.
TBC…