It is amazing what a difference four months can make in a person's life. Four months ago, a well-oiled team, no-family, was torn apart in a web of politics whose greedy tentacles dealt long lasting coincidences. Four months ago, four friends went their separate ways in order to protect one of their own. Since then, Timothy McGee had left D.C. in a flurry of introspection, intent on finding meaning to the madness.
With a suitcase and typewriter on the back seat and the top down on beautiful days, McGee toured the U.S. in his Porsche, taking pictures and conducting research along the way. What started out as his memoirs turned into a book of political intrigue and so he left L. G. Tibbs behind and in Los Vegas settled himself into his writing and beginning a new life.
Of course, four months ago he would never have dreamt that his old life would come crashing onto the scene as suddenly and as violently as it did.
Tim gazed down the aisle of the church with a feeling of pure wonderment. Having been so cautious all his life, a new beginning let him discover facets of himself that he had no idea existed. Without his computer to define him, he was forced to find other things to enjoy. For example, in a little town in Tennessee, he stopped to eat at a honky-tonk bar and discovered that he loved music. Not just country either. Any kind of music, except for Rap, he did not consider that to be singing, but rather really fast talking. When he decided to settle down in Vegas three months ago, he found a little music store that also offered guitar lessons which he immediately signed up for-that is also how he met Franky. Franky worked in the store all week, but on the weekends, she liked to have fun, up for anything, whether it was playing tourist at the Hoover Dam, exploring the Strip, or just staying home listening to jazz while he wrote and she read a book.
Despite only knowing each other three months, it amazed him that she was just as much in love with him as he was with her and unwilling to prolong marriage just because it was more appropriate to wait. The only thing that he regretted was that his NCIS family wouldn't be there to celebrate with him. This Dad wasn't there because he didn't approve. Luckily her family was very supportive and Sarah had flown out from Maryland to be there.
Suddenly the music began playing. Despite being in a church, it wasn't the traditional 'Here comes the bride' music but Billy Idol's 'White Wedding.' The gown Franky wore was tight and form fitting, all in white. It was strapless and stopped just above her knees. Her shoes were better described as stripper heels and her veil was thin and short, only covering down to her chin.
Tim didn't remember much of the ceremony itself except that he stared into her eyes the entire time, automatically answering where appropriate. As soon as the pastor said "You may kiss the bride," he took Franky I his arms, her short stature against his tall, lithe frame and forgot the rest of the world around him, only coming to as she began drawing away, never tearing her eyes from his. Slowly they turned to the rest of the church and that's when the automatic weapons firing began.