A/N: Yes, another Road Trip story. Almost right after I finished the last one, I knew I needed another one. There are some serious things in this one, but it's not as dark as the last one was...but it's a lot longer. I kind of lost my usual Road Trip format with this one. There's a lot more to the story than just the road trip. However, there was so much that had to happen in this story that I felt justified. :) So here it is, I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own NCIS or its characters, even if I think what I do with them is much better than the show. :) I'm not making money off this. I do claim my OCs, but that's it.

Get Your Kicks
by Enthusiastic Fish

Chapter 1

It was early Sunday morning, and Tim was awake. No work today, and no real plans. Just a quiet Sunday, which usually led Tim toward difficult thoughts. A year and a half after seeing Allison Jenkins murdered, he was doing really well.

Most of the time.

He still had nightmares about her on occasion. Usually, Delilah could comfort him and he'd go back to sleep. It wasn't every night or even most nights. Just often enough that it troubled him.

Thankfully, that wasn't why he was awake right now. No, it wasn't so simple as that.

Lying in bed, he rolled over as quietly as possible and opened the drawer in his side table. He pulled out a piece of paper and opened it. Then, he smiled as he read the words to a song, his Christmas present from Tony the year before last. An offer he hadn't really believed at first and then, one he had been afraid of cashing in. Tony had meant it in the moment, but did he really mean it now? Tim still looked on their last road trip as one of the worst events in his life and, whether Tony admitted to it or not, one of the worst in his life, too. Tony had said it didn't wipe out all the fun they'd had on the others, but for Tim, the road trip to force him to get the help he'd desperately needed and felt he didn't deserve loomed large, casting a long shadow over all the trips that had come before.

Now, Delilah had started asking him when he was going to ask Tony about it. Neither of them had taken much personal time in the previous year, meaning that they had the personal days available. But both of them were team leads and neither of them had the excuse of needing time off. ...and if Tim didn't do something soon, it would have to wait for quite a while.

But quite frankly, Tim was a little nervous about going on another road trip. He knew that the last trip had been an aberration, the outlier in a larger pattern of having fun. But it was so extreme that it was hard to see past it, and did Tony really want to try it again? Tim didn't want Tony to force himself to do something with the idea of helping Tim again. It didn't matter that it hadn't always been that way. Tim now felt that debt very heavily. He looked back on that road trip as Tony making the ultimate sacrifice for him and he never wanted to put Tony in that position again.

With a sigh, Tim set the paper aside and got out of bed, disturbing Delilah as little as possible.

"Tim?" she mumbled.

"I'm just going to make sure our son isn't destroying the house," Tim said softly. "Don't get up."

"Okay," she said and didn't even open her eyes.

Tim smiled and walked out of the bedroom. He didn't really think Tommy would be awake. Not this early. But it would give him some time alone, where he could not worry about whether or not Delilah would start worrying about him again.

He sat down on the couch and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. That was another source of lingering guilt. He knew that he had really upset Delilah. She'd never seen him like he had been and it had upset her to the point that she had gone to Dr. Bourning for a while herself.

Tim saw all too clearly how much he had hurt the people he cared for the most, and he hadn't been able to forgive himself for what he'd done to them. From the benefit of distance, he could acknowledge that he hadn't been thinking clearly in the midst of the anguish he'd felt from witnessing Allison's death and knowing that it could have been prevented. Still, if he had been able to open his eyes to the world around him and see that it wasn't necessary, he could have saved the people around him a lot of pain.

There was no way he could have saved Allison Jenkins, but he could have saved his family that grief.

The sound of a drum reached his ears and Tim smiled to himself, pushing away the bitter self-reflection. He'd better stop that before Tommy woke up Delilah. Five months along and she was already feeling the extra strain of pregnancy. It wouldn't be too much longer before she'd have to stop working again. They'd already discussed what they'd do next, but they hadn't come to any particular conclusions. The only definite conclusion they'd come to was that this would be her last pregnancy. In fact, Tim would be getting a vasectomy once Delilah recovered. She said that she had to go through labor. It was only fair for him to have his share of the misery. Tim had agreed, but they were waiting until a successful delivery. Pregnancy was hard for her to manage, but this would keep Tommy from being an only child. Neither of them had wanted that for him. Yes, Tommy got all their attention, but it would be good for him to have siblings. And they both had wanted to have more than one child.

Tim went into Tommy's room and found him in his usual mess.

"Good morning, Tommy," Tim said. "You're going to wake up your mom."

"Daddy's awake!" Tommy said, happily. "Can we go to the park?"

"Tommy, it's too early to go to the park. We'll have to wait until later."

"Play music with me?"

Tommy looked so hopeful that Tim melted...like he always did. Delilah had told him before that he was a little too lenient with their son, but Tim couldn't help but want to keep Tommy happy. He tried to be stern when he needed to, but at times like this, he just went with the flow and gave in to his son's child-like demands. He closed the door to Tommy's room, turned off the baby monitor and sat down on the floor. Tommy gave him the drum and then picked up the maracas and tambourine. For the next forty-five minutes, they were contentedly creating noise that might also pass as music.

Then, Tim looked at the time. It was late enough to start breakfast.

"Okay, Tommy. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pancakes!" Tommy said. "Pancakes, Daddy! With syrup!"

"We had pancakes yesterday, Tommy," Tim said.

"Pancakes!"

"Don't you want something else? Like eggs?"

"Pancakes!" Tommy said with the dogged determination of a three-year-old.

"Okay. Pancakes. Can I add blueberries to them?"

Tommy's brow furrowed.

"Blue berries?" he asked.

"Come on. I'll show you."

Tim stood up and held out his hand. Tommy took it and then proceeded to drag him into the kitchen. Tim got out the blueberries and let Tommy taste one.

"What do you think, Tommy?"

"Yummy!"

"Can I put them in the pancakes?"

"Blueberry pancakes!" Tommy said, nearly shouting.

"I can hear you, Tommy," Tim said. "You don't need to shout."

"Blueberry! Blueberry!" Tommy continued to shout, trying out the new word.

Tim just smiled and started to make the pancake batter. Pancakes was his usual breakfast when he cooked. While he worked, Tommy began getting out pots and pans and banging them with spoons. Tim gave up on stopping him. He was happy enough to have Tommy around and enjoying being around him that he just let it be.

He got out the griddle and started heating it up. He remembered his mother making bacon first and then cooking the pancakes in the bacon grease. She said it made them taste better. Tim usually just used butter, and they didn't have any bacon right now, but it brought him a feeling of nostalgia as he put the first dollops on the griddle.

"Daddy, let me see!" Tommy said, abandoning his pots.

Tim leaned down and picked up Tommy.

"Don't touch, Tommy. It's hot."

Obediently, Tommy just looked, seemingly fascinated by the pancakes. He didn't even squirm. He just stared until the bubbles started forming on the top. Time to flip.

"Okay, Tommy. I need to flip the pancakes."

He shifted Tommy to one side and picked up the spatula to flip the pancakes over. Really, Tommy was getting too big to just hold for long periods of time, but while he was interested, Tim would hold him up and let him see.

"What is all this mess?"

Tim grinned and turned around. Delilah was there in her chair, looking around at all the pots and pans Tommy had spread around.

"Tommy was giving me some musical support while I was getting breakfast ready."

"Well, I can't get into the kitchen with this stuff on the floor."

Tim set Tommy down.

"Okay, Tommy. You need to pick up the pots and pans so that Mommy can come into the kitchen."

"No! I want to watch!"

"No, Tommy. You need to pick up the pots, first. If you're fast, you can get them done before I'm finished with the pancakes."

Tommy looked like he was deciding whether or not to throw a tantrum. Tim headed it off at the pass.

"And if you're really fast, you can help pick out the plates."

The clouds cleared instantly. For whatever reason, Tommy liked to choose the plates they ate off of. He began to stack up the pots and pans. He wasn't good at putting them away, but they were no longer spread out across the floor. Delilah started to lean over to pick them up and then she winced and sat up quickly.

"I'll get it, Delilah," Tim said. "Don't worry."

Frustration warred with gratitude as she rubbed her already-rounded belly.

"I'm already sick of this, Tim," she said.

"I know. I wish I could make it better."

She smiled. "I know you do. But I also know that it will be worth it in the end. At least, it had better be."

"Mommy, you hurt?" Tommy asked, looking very concerned.

"Just a little. It's all right."

"Kiss it better?"

Delilah looked at Tim and smiled. Tommy had definitely taken the idea of kissing a hurt better to heart. They'd even found him kissing his own finger once when he slammed it in the door.

"Yes, you can."

"Where do you hurt?" he asked.

Delilah rubbed her stomach and Tommy walked over and reached up to gently kiss her belly.

"All better?" Tommy asked.

"Better," Delilah said.

Tommy looked at Tim.

"Daddy, kiss Mommy, too."

Tim got the pancakes off the griddle and then leaned over and gently kissed Delilah on the lips.

Delilah smiled at him and then laughed as Tommy started tugging at Tim's hand.

"No, Daddy. Mommy hurts here," he said, pointing at Delilah's belly.

"It's okay, Tommy," Delilah said.

"No, he's right," Tim said. "I missed."

He knelt down and rubbed Delilah's belly and then kissed it.

"Better?" he asked softly, rubbing it again.

"All better," Delilah said with a tender smile. She cupped her hand on Tim's cheek and then leaned over just enough to kiss him again. "Now, finish making breakfast and Tommy and I will get the table set."

"Okay," Tim said, smiling.

He stood up and went back to the griddle, enjoying hearing his family happy. He cooked the rest of the pancakes, warmed up the syrup and brought everything to the table. They ate together and then Tommy ran off to play on his drum again...after being forced to let Tim wipe off his sticky face and fingers.

Delilah grimaced at the noise.

"I don't know if I'll ever forgive Tony for giving Tommy that stupid drum," Delilah said, as Tim started to clean up the kitchen.

"It keeps him occupied," Tim said.

"Yes, but it occupies us, too."

Tim laughed. "At least he hasn't started using the whistle much yet."

"We should hide it. He'll never know," Delilah said, smiling. "Speaking of Tony, when are you going to ask him?"

"I don't know," Tim said.

"Tim, if you don't do it in the next couple of months, it's going to be too late. I'll be too far along and I'll need you close to home. You know that they said it'll probably be a lot earlier than the due date. And who knows how long it will take to get into a rhythm after?"

"There's no set deadline for going on a road trip, Delilah," Tim said. "Just because I don't go before you're due doesn't mean I can't go after."

"But it will be that much harder to find the time and you know it."

Delilah rolled over close to him and caught his hand as he loaded the dishwasher.

"Tim, you're worrying about something you don't need to worry about."

Tim looked at Delilah's hand and rubbed it with his other hand.

"Story of my life," he whispered.

"It doesn't have to be. Just call him and ask him. You want to go, even if it scares you, and I'll bet Tony does, too. He's probably wondering why you aren't asking. You know that he left it up to you to decide the time."

"What if he's reconsidered and doesn't really want to go again?"

"No, Tim. That's just your self-doubt speaking. I know that Dr. Bourning's been trying to get you to do it, too. This would be good for you, Tim."

"But would it be good for Tony?" Tim asked. "That's what happened last time. It was all about what I needed, not what he needed. I don't want to forget him again."

"You're not in the same situation that you were last time," Delilah said. "Not even close. You're fine, now, Tim. You'd both just be having fun. And if you have some problems still, you're working on them. You need to stop holding yourself back."

Tim forced a smile. "Not going on a road trip is hardly holding myself back."

"Yes, it is, and you know it," Delilah said, seriously. "Please, Tim. Call Tony and ask him."

"He's busy."

"It's Sunday. He should be off."

"Maybe he isn't," Tim said.

Delilah smiled. "Now, you're just making excuses and they're getting more lame by the second. Quit while you're ahead, Tim. Call Tony and ask about going on a road trip before I'm too big to fit in my chair. I swear that I'm getting bigger every day and that's only going to make it harder for me."

"I wish I could take some of that for you," Tim said.

"I wish you could, too," Delilah said. "But you can't. So stop avoiding what you can do. Please?"

Tim took a breath and let it out.

"I need to finish cleaning up breakfast."

"Then, do it. I'll even keep Tommy out of your hair while you call."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Do it, Tim. You'll feel better."

"I don't think I will. I feel fine now."

"You will once you go on the trip and realize that you can still have fun with someone other than Tommy."

Tim smiled. "I have fun with you."

"Yes, and everyone can see the evidence of that," Delilah said, rubbing her stomach again. "Now, no more stalling. Finish your job and then call Tony."

"Okay, okay."

Tim turned back to the dishwasher and finished loading it. Then, he wiped down the griddle and the counters...and couldn't find anything else to wipe down.

So he grabbed his phone and sat down on the couch. He could hear Tommy pounding on the drum while Delilah shook the tambourine.

"Tommy, tell your dad to call his friend," he heard Delilah say.

"Daddy, call his friend!" Tommy parroted.

"I'm doing it!" Tim shouted back.

"I don't hear it," Delilah said.

"I'm dialing."

Finally, Tim punched in Tony's number, even though he had it in his contacts list, and called.

The phone rang a few times and went to voice mail.

"This is Tony DiNozzo. Your call. Your dime. Leave a message."

"Hey, Tony. It's Tim. I wanted to talk to you. Ask you something. Give me a call when you get the chance. I'm home all day. ...and Delilah still says she's never going to forgive you for the drum."

Tim hung up.

"He didn't answer. I left a message," Tim said. "Now, can I play, mother?"

Delilah laughed. "Yes. You may."

Tim got off the couch and wondered how long it would take for Tony to answer and whether or not he'd guess the reason for Tim's call.