McGee stood in the icy rain, trying to clamp an errant umbrella between one shoulder and his neck while sketching with the other hand. The sight of the old rickety rollercoaster had brought back some unpleasant memories. For many years, he had dreaded the obligatory trips to theme parks which he was assured he would enjoy. Every time, he ended up throwing up somewhere. Then there was a blissful hiatus when his parents deemed he was "too old" for such things. Then, just when he thought his life was blissfully free of rearing, plummeting carriages, they had insisted that he accompany his little sister and her friends.
The cold seeped though his warm coat, chilling him to the bone. It was only early afternoon but the drizzle made it seem more like late evening. The smell of damp wood mixed with damp yellow boarder plastic tape and damp people milling about assaulted his senses and he would have given anything to be somewhere warm and dry.
He sighed deeply, lowering his sodden sketch pad to survey the picture in front of him. A marine, just off the boat for a little R & R was now enjoying a lot of RIP. He looked up at the peak of the track, squinting against the rain. It was a very long fall. He hoped the guy wasn't alive all the way down. He hoped more that he hadn't felt his head smear across the pavement when he landed.
McGee shuddered and shook his head to remove the image.
There was crying somewhere behind him: witnesses, presumably. He could hear Ziva's strained voice trying to extract reluctant accounts without resorting to torture. He could hear from the tone of her voice that she was getting desperate. He turned and walked over to help: the witnesses not Ziva.
It was her hands he recognised first, clutching at her pale green handbag. Countless times he had watched those hands with their shiny red fingernails skim across the keyboard. At first, she was slow and hesitant – very hunt and peck, but over as time, she had grown fluent. Years of piano training had lead to her adding a flourish every time she hit the return key. He had teased her about it constantly.
He was almost upon her before she looked up at him.
"Tim?" She was incredulous.
"Hey, Jen", he said quietly. In all the years since he had last set eyes on it, her face had not changed. He knew it well enough to sketch from memory.
"Oh, Tim," she turned and buried her head in his chest.
One arm wound around her automatically and he hoped she couldn't read his mind. All those guilty little fantasies he used to have about her when he was a teenager. How he would have loved for her to have fallen into his arms then: speaking his name softly, craving his strength.
Suddenly, he was a hormonally ravaged teenager again. His confidence drained like water from an old bath, complete with gurgle (he should really get something to eat), leaving him feeling naked and shivering.
He felt her rest one hand against his chest and he worried she would detect his heart raging against his ribs like a caged wild animal. Her hair was so close he could smell the shampoo. Damp shampoo: like she was fresh from the shower. He'd seen her like that once, long ago, when she had slept over with his sister. That image had provided months of pleasant dreams in his youth.
"Care to introduce us, McGee?" Gibbs' question was laconic as always.
"Um, ah, sorry, ah boss", he stammered, moving away from her a little so she could see Gibbs' face.
"This is Jen, she was a, ah, friend, of my sister."
"She is also a witness, McGee", Gibbs' eyes locked with his for a moment to make sure he understood the words 'witness' and 'suspect' were interchangeable at this point, "She was sitting next to the victim when he went over."
"Yes, boss," he acknowledged. Satisfied, Gibbs broke off the stare.
McGee looked down at her red-rimmed eyes and his heart did a little flutter. If only she could have looked at him like that all those years ago.
Tony appeared from nowhere, panting for breath and dripping wet. "That's a big fall, Boss.." he began.
He stopped, mid-sentence, eyebrows raised in full surprise mode.
"She's an old friend," McGee offered by way of explanation.
"Ah huh."
"Of my little sister," McGee clarified.
A huge grin spread over Tony's face. "Oh…." He nodded conspiratorially.
"Tony…."
"What have you got, DiNozzo?" Gibbs cut in.
"Huge fall, boss!" Tony was immediately distracted, "Second peak along. Look at that, isn't she a beauty."
"Go up and get a closer look," said Gibbs' bluntly, turning abruptly.
McGee looked up at the high peak, barley visible through the steadily increasing rain. He had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to enjoy this.