A/N: A Tim/Tony Team Bonding one shot - came to me yesterday.
Co-written by Shelbylou! - You Rock.
If you do not like my stories - please don't bother wasting your time or mine by reading it just to flame it
Tim threw his backpack on the floor by his desk and dropped down into his chair before jabbing a finger at the on button on his computer. He harshly poked at the keys of his keyboard, bringing his monitor to life as it set about going though the commands that it had just been given. Even if this bizarre behavior hadn't clued his teammates into his less than stellar mood, the scowl that currently resided on his face and the anger emanating from his person certainly were signs even a moron wouldn't be able to miss.
"Probie? What's with you? " Tony asked with just a tad too much authority in his tone to make it a question of genuine concern.
"Nothing." Tim responded grouchily as he turned his attention back to his computer and effectively tuned the older man out. He was in no mood for any crap that the golden boy wanted to throw his way this morning.
"Got that report yet, McGee?" Gibbs snapped as he entered the squad room from Tim's end of the room.
"Boss, I just go…."
'Yes or no, McGee!" the boss snapped.
"No." Tim admitted feeling defeated.
"I want it on my desk by the time I get back!" Having issued that impossible order, Gibbs headed on through the squad room and climbed the stairs to the upper level, obviously headed for either the Director's Office or MTAC.
"McGee." Ziva's soft address was said with genuine concern and startled Tim out of his momentary head fog.
"Yeah." He answered vaguely as he dove back into his work, wanting to put this painful situation behind him sooner than later.
"What has happened to make Gibbs so angry with you?" She asked him softly and when Tim glanced up, he saw her furrow her brow in confusion.
"It's my fault for not being able to get my report done, yesterday. I'll handle it." Tim answered quietly as he looked down at his lap momentarily.
"McGee. You were suffering through a very bad headache yesterday. No one was expecting you to be able to be at your best." Ziva defended him vehemently and Tim couldn't help but offer her a small smile.
"Gibbs was. But, thank you, Ziva." Tim answered gratefully even as he returned to working on his report.
"C'mon, Probie, you can't be serious!" Tony's disbelief was palpable in his statement and rang loud and true across the gap between their desks.
"You were here a minute ago, weren't you, DiNozzo? You did hear him, right?" Tim replied with a sarcasm laced tone that had Tony's face darkening like a thunder cloud.
"So, now suddenly you're taking it out on me?" Tony asked incredulously.
"You're the one acting like you don't believe what you see or hear. Now if you don't mind, I have a report to finish. Unlike some people, I'm not the golden boy or the favorite. I'm not sanctioned to goof around or pull mean pranks during working hours because I sneak back in late at night to do my best work." Tim sniped, fed up with Tony's attitude and the underlying reason Gibbs pushed too hard at Tim while letting Tony goof off whenever he felt like it.
"WHAT did you just say?" Tony demanded as he bounded out of his chair and stormed over to Tim's desk. He was brought to a dead stop by an angry Ziva blocking his path.
"Leave him alone, Tony. Let him do his work."
"What? You're defending him?"
"I simply want you to let him get his work done. Do not be the cause of making this situation worse." Ziva's calm, cool tone almost dared Tony to argue with her.
"Fine!" Tony snapped as he stormed off toward the back of the room, needing some caffeine. Thinking better of it, he headed down to talk to someone who would maybe help him make sense of this new, angry Tim McGee.
"Ah, Anthony, what brings you to my humble abode, dear boy?" The M.E. asked jovially as the Senior Field Agent walked into Autopsy unexpectedly.
"Ducky, you talk to McGee lately?"
"No. I can't say that I have. Why, is something wrong with him?"
"He's pissed! He's pissed enough that he's throwing his backpack down, banging his computer keys, and actually sniping at me, Ducky. Yeah, I'd say something's wrong with him." Tony bit out angrily.
"Anthony, if something is wrong, why are you angry instead of trying to get to the bottom of what might be going on with your teammate?" the M.E. asked carefully.
"Because he's up there sprouting off about it not being his fault he's not the golden boy or the favorite or being allowed to goof off, pull pranks during the day because he can't come in late at night to do his best work. What the hell is that?"
"Anthony. Stop for a moment and think about what Timothy has said. Put aside your anger long enough to think about the words. Think about what you yourself have just admitted. This kind of anger from Timothy is not normal. We all know that. Obviously something has happened that has driven him to go so far as to express this anger. And since he is talking about the way you and I both know you operate, I can only surmise that Jethro has browbeaten him for not getting his own work done fast enough."
Tony breathed out a sigh of frustration. "Yeah, Come to think of it, Ziva did get him to admit he couldn't get his report done yesterday."
"Well, of course he couldn't. The poor boy had a severe headache yesterday. He was so worried about Jethro's demand that his report be finished before the end of the evening, that I couldn't even get him to take any pain relief so he could sleep it off. The best I could do was to allow Timothy to get some peace and quiet in my office while he tried to get his report done."
"Well, that explains it. No wonder Gibbs was pissed that he couldn't find him last night."
"Yes, well, I do regret that I was not able to check with Jethro to be sure he would know where Timothy was, however, I was too wrapped up in the autopsy I was needing to finish to have thought of that. When I was finished for the evening, I realized Timothy was still in my office and I insisted he stop trying to force himself to work through the pain and took him home so I could medicate him and give him some relief. I also wanted to make sure he got some real sleep."
"Ah, hell, Ducky! No wonder he's in a bad mood this morning. I'm guessing Gibbs laid into him about the whole mess this morning. But why be pissed at me about it? I don't…"
"Anthony, do not be daft. Jethro is well aware that you come back in late at night and get work done. I'd hazard a guess that Timothy knows this as well and that Jethro thinks highly of you for it. That is no secret; at least not to me. On top of that, Timothy is quite often the recipient of your pranks and he and Ziva are the witnesses of how it is you spend your time during the working day. In fact, aren't they the victims of your boughts of bordem?"
Tony had the grace to look and feel abashed. Ducky was right. McGee had every right to feel like he was being handed the short end of the stick again. And all Tony had done is yell at him. Some friend he was. He needed to fix that. Quickly, he turned on his heel and headed out of the room. He paused briefly at the doors and turned so that he was looking at the M.E.
"Thanks, Ducky. "
"You are quite welcome. I do hope I have helped in some measure. Do remember, Anthony, that when Timothy calms down, he will be most upset with himself for having lost his temper and will be the first to apologise to you for it."
"You have helped, Ducky. And you're right."
Tim's head was beginning to pound again as the excruciating headache he'd had yesterday threatened to return. He was determined to get his work done though and no matter what, he wouldn't be knocked on his back side again because he wasn't feeling well. Wincing from the onslaught, he was barely able to put two words together, something that had him groaning from both the pain and the inability to do his job. His determination was, in this case, no match for the physical pain that had arrived once more. It was frustrating and he banged his hands down on his keyboards before letting his head fall down to his chest as his breathing becoming ragged with the increasing pain in his head.
"McGee. Your head is hurting you again, yes?" Ziva asked from in front of his desk.
Tim nodded silently.
"Come, I am taking you to see Ducky." She insisted as she stepped around to help him up from his chair.
"No, Zee. I have to do this report." He objected worriedly as Ziva hooked her small hand round his elbow and gently pulled him to his feet.
"Do not concern yourself with that. I am sure Ducky will talk to Gibbs and will make sure you are given adequate time to do it later when you are feeling better." She vowed with conviction.
"Didn't last night." Tim mumbled as he allowed Ziva to walk with him to the elevator.
"I am sure that was an oversight on Ducky's part. He was busy with the body in his autopsy last night, yes?"
"Yeah." Tim muttered as he used one hand to let the wall hold him up, while Ziva held onto his other arm.
As the elevator took them down to Autopsy, Ziva's phone rang. "Ziva Da'vid" she answered quickly.
"Where the hell are you? Gibbs is gonna hit the roof when he gets back here and you two aren't up here working!" Tony demanded and Ziva could hear the worry in his voice.
"I am taking McGee down to see Ducky." Ziva answered calmly and shook her head. When she glanced up, Tim was starting to list slightly to the side.
"He still having headaches?" Tony's tone instantly changed to that of concern.
"Yes. He is not able to work at the moment. I will talk to Gibbs myself when I get back to my desk."
"I'll handle it. You just make sure McGoo gets to Ducky." Tony's request calmed her slightly and made her realize that he was no longer angry about the confrontation earlier, but was, in fact, truly worried about his team mate.
"Thank you, Tony." Ziva ended the call, putting her phone in her pocket and helping Tim walk out of the elevator and through the autopsy doors.
"Ducky." Ziva called out only as loudly as she dared, hoping to not cause Tim further pain in his head.
"Ziva?" Ducky came out of his office. "Oh, my! Timothy, I take it your horrid headache has returned full force?"
"Yeah." Tim muttered. "Can't even do my job. Gonna get fired this time." He worried as he shuffled into Ducky's office and laid himself down on the M.E.'s couch.
"McGee. Please do not worry about that. Tony has said he will talk to Gibbs. As will I." Ziva implored of him as she followed him into Ducky's office and watched as he struggled to get comfortable.
"And I. Timothy, I do apologize for not talking to Jethro about this yesterday when you came to me. I am terribly sorry you have been on the receiving end of his ire over this." Ducky walked over and crouched down beside Tim so that he could offer the medication. "And no arguments, my boy. You will take this and you will get some rest. I shall turn the lights of and will ask Mr. Palmer to keep the noise down to a minimum."
Tim sat up with the help of his friends and took the medication before laying back with a groan. "S'okay, Ducky. Thank you" Tim murmured as he slipped into sleep now that his body was relaxed enough to find it.
Ducky closed the office door and ushered Ziva over to his desk for a cup of tea.
"Where the hell are Da'vid and McGee?" Gibbs barked into the air as he returned to the squad room some fifteen minutes later.
"In Autopsy." Tony answered without missing a beat.
"Why?" the boss snapped angrily, as he stopped in front of Tony's desk.
"Boss, I don't know what you're so pissed about, but McGee…."
"McGee what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs bit out impatiently.
"McGee wasn't missing last night. He was down in Ducky's office fighting off a really bad headache. Bad enough Ducky took him home last night and medicated him. His headache's back in full swing, so Ziva insisted he go back down to see Ducky. She took him down there herself." Tony said quietly but with enough guilt in his tone that Gibbs caught it.
"Okay. What aren't you telling me?" the boss asked as his mind raced to catch up to what the younger man had just told him.
"Nothin'" Tony denied quickly…too quickly.
"DiNozzo. Don't lie to me." Gibbs said with the deadly calm that came before the raging anger.
"He's really pissed. And McGee never gets that pissed, Boss."
"About?"
"Anything. Oh, you mean what's he pissed about now? Boss, did you say something to him about him not getting his report done last night and the reason it's not done not being good enough because I always get my best work done at night or something?" Tony asked without blinking an eye.
"What?"
"He brought up having to get his report done no matter what because he's not the favorite or the golden boy who gets to fool around and pull pranks during the day because he gets his best work done when he sneaks back in late at night." Tony explained sadly.
"He said that?" Gibbs asked in shock. While it was true Gibbs had said it before, he'd never said it to Tim. He wasn't that much of a bastard, even if he did treat his agents like they never did enough work. The only person he'd ever made that comment to, had been Ducky; and Abby! Abby! Shaking his head at Tony, he took steps toward the back elevator, answering Tony's question as he went. "No, Tony. I didn't say anything about you to McGee." Without another word, Gibbs changed his mind about the elevator and bolted down the stairs.
Reaching Abby's lab, he walked in and turned the music up. Abby looked up from her work in shock. No one ever walked into her lab and turned her music volume up. Seeing the angry look on Gibbs' face, she knew something was wrong.
"Gibbs, what is it? Did something happen to one of our guys?" she asked loudly enough to be heard above the noise.
"You could say that." Gibbs answered quietly as he stepped up into her personal space so no one else would hear what he had to say.
"Was it something I did?" She squeaked out.
"That depends, Abby. Did you tell McGee what I told you a long time ago about Tony doing his best work at night?"
"Kinda." She skirted the answer.
"Abby!"
"Okay, yes, I did. But I was just poking fun about it. I didn't mean anything by it. Why? What happened?"
"How'd it come up?"
"He was worrying about what you were gonna say about him not being able to get his report done last night. I told him since he'd been in so much pain with that awful headache all day and he'd really tried hard to work around it anyway, you'd give him time to get it done today. Then I brought up the latitude you always give Tony because you know he does his best work at night. Why?"
"Nothing Abby, You just accidentally twisted the knife."
"What knife, Gibbs? What are you talking about?"
"The knife I stuck in McGee." Gibbs answered cryptically as he turned and practically ran out of the lab to hit the stairs again, this time toward Autopsy.
Ziva returned to her desk to find no sign of Gibbs and a Tony who appeared to be worried yet steadily working. "Tony?"
"Hey, How's McGoo?" he asked and sat back in his chair.
"He is sleeping on Ducky's couch. Did you talk to Gibbs?"
"Yeah. He's probably on his way down to Ducky as we speak. Ziva, About what Probie said…"
"What part of what he said, Tony?" She asked carefully. "There was so much."
"About the person allowed to goof off during the day?"
"Ah, yes, that part. Relax, Tony. I already knew he was talking about you."
"Yeah, I know. But, Gibbs said he never said that to McGee. So where'd he hear it from?" Tony's question threw her for a second and she found herself unable to respond.
"Me." Abby's subdued voice came from the space between Gibbs' and Tim's desks. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to make him feel bad. I was laughing about you being able to get away with operating like that, Tony."
"Which is exactly why Tim blew up this morning Because I do get away with it while Gibbs expects too much from him." Tony worried.
"Wait a minute! Tim blew up? At who? Why?" Abby's loud voice drew the attention of some of the other teams working. She threw them a death glare and watched as they turned back to their work.
"Long story, Abbs. Let's just hope Gibbs can clean up this mess before it's too late."
"Too late? Why, do you believe something bad will happen?" Ziva asked in concern.
"It's possible. Tim might walk away after this." Tony was worried about this would be the straw that broke the camel's back and that his probie would think that no one valued him for his contribution to the team; his tireless contribution.
No, Tony. McGee is not a quitter. You know this." Ziva reminded him.
"Yeah, but there's only so much a person can take, Ziva. I know that, too."
"Duck." Gibbs greeted quietly as he walked through the doors of Autopsy.
"Ah, Jethro. I do hope you're here to talk about Timothy. I do apologize for not letting you know yesterday that I was keeping him down here in hopes of helping the pain he was suffering from subside even as he tried desperately to work through his report for you."
"Well, yeah, Duck. That woulda helped a hell of a lot. Where is he now?"
"Sleeping." Ducky answered as he pointed to his closed office door.
Gibbs nodded and walked over to the office door.
"Jethro, he needs the rest."
"He needs to talk to me more, Duck. Trust me on that."
Ducky nodded and returned to his work, content that the Team Leader would not make the situation worse for the young man.
Gibbs took a minute to look his agent over and didn't miss the pain etched on his face even as he slept. He'd been so hard on him over the report and even now, the boss couldn't justify the way he'd handled it with this young man. Tim was always studious and thorough and was always ready to throw himself under a bus to get Gibbs what he demanded, when he demanded it. There was no excuse for treating the kid like he didn't have the right to stop long enough to deal with a major headache. It wasn't like they'd been out in the field, which would have made doing it much more problematic and the way he'd handled it slightly more acceptable, maybe.
Feeling the weight of guilt sitting squarely on his shoulders, Gibbs recalled Ducky's words. "Jethro, he needs the rest."
Maybe it was time Gibbs showed the young man that he was allowed to be human, to need to stop and take care of his body when the physical pain got in the way. And while Gibbs knew that Tim needed to hear that from him and he was the only person that could straighten up this mess, he also knew that the sleep that had found the younger man, was more important at this moment.
"You always do your best, McGee. I don't tell you that enough." Gibbs told the sleeping man sincerely.
Silently, he backed out of the office and closed the door. The two of them would talk after Tim got the sleep he needed and Gibbs would make damn sure, that the kid knew just how important he was to the team. This sharp reminder was something that Gibbs would take away with him too. It was a bullet that he'd hope to dodge as the lesson was learned.
Never again, would he take his agents' work for granted or make the terrible decision, to doubt them or their dedication to this job.
Tim blinked his way back to awareness, his mind fuzzy and his eyes bleary as they attempted to regain their focus. After a few moments of effort, his eyes refocused and his mind cleared allowing him to both think and see clearly.
After giving it a minute of thought, he realized the god-awful pain in his head was gone and he felt rested for the first time in days. It was a nice feeling, but he couldn't help but wonder exactly how long he'd been here to make him feel this way. Looking at his watch, he groaned with frustration at the knowledge that he was doomed. Gibbs would have his head for sure now because he'd been sleeping for three hours on Agency time. It was time to get up and get back to work.
He struggled to sit up and moaned as his muscles protested at laying in the same position for too long. He was stiff and stretched before wiping his hand across his face and rising to his feet. Setting the blanket that had been placed over him down on the couch; he opened the office door and found himself alone in Ducky's Autopsy suite. The fact that there was no one there to talk to, gave him the perfect opportunity to head straight back to work and without wasting any more time, he took the elevator back to the squad room with his heart in his throat. Tim knew he had to get his report done and fast, but more than that, he had one hell of an apology to offer and could only hope it would be accepted.
He hadn't meant to take Tony's head off the way he had. Hell, he hadn't even meant to say anything to anyone about what Abby had told him. He'd fully intended to keep his mouth shut and still couldn't figure out why he spoke before his brain could stop him. He hoped that it was something that never happened again because it was not a pleasant feeling and knowing that he'd talked to the guy that was practically his big brother, tore at him…even though the man could wind him up and be irritating at the best of times.
As he stepped of the elevator and rounded the corner to his desk, he realized that the boss wasn't at his desk and found himself thanking the heaven's for small mercies. Looking around the quiet room, he was surprised to find Tony and Ziva working in complete silence and took the opportunity that was laid out in front of him. He walked up to Tony's desk and tried to mentally find the words to use.
"Tony?"
Tony looked up from his reading and the surprise on his face told him that he hadn't seen Tim standing in front of him and hadn't heard him coming.
"Hey, Probie. You okay?"
The genuine concern from Tony startled Tim, but still he remained on task before he lost his nerve. "Yeah. Thanks. Listen, Tony, about earlier. I'm really sorry."
"No sweat, Probie. I get it." Tony said with a grin and sat back in his chair.
"Thanks, Tony. But, I'm serious. I never should have taken it out on you or said anything to you like that. I'm sorry. I'll try to make sure it doesn't ever happen again." Tim replied earnestly.
"Hey, Probie. I'm serious, too. I get it. Relax." Tony reasssured him as he stood up and walked around his desk so he could clamp a hand down on Tim's shoulder. "You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. headache's gone so I guess I've gotta get my report done now. Thanks. You too, Ziva." Tim offered as he looked her way and smiled appreciatively.
Turning back to his desk, he quickly booted his computer up and opened up the electronic version of his report.
"Does this mean you are not leaving us?" Ziva asked hopefully, leaving Tim wondering what had been going on while he'd been asleep.
"Leaving?" Tim asked with raised eyebrows as he looked over at her.
"Yes, Tony mentioned that the way this situation was handled may cause you to feel the need to go elsewhere."
"Why?" Tim asked as he got up from his chair and approached Tony's desk.
"I just figured you mighta been feeling completely unappreciated and thinking you'd be better appreciated over at oh, I don't know, the FBI?" Tony admitted worriedly.
Tim smiled."No. I'm not leaving, at least not by my own choice. This isn't the first time Gibbs has reacted this way and it won't be the last. I'm in it for the long haul, just like you guys are." He vowed as he returned to his desk. "But, thanks for worrying about me. It's nice to know I'm appreciated."
"Oh, you are, Probie. But, don't let it go to your head." Tony sniped.
"Right." Tim laughed and returned his attention to his report. He heard his teammates shuffle about briefly before the clatter of keyboards reached him.
Hopefully, the relief that the dodged bullet he'd just survived wouldn't be short lived and they'd all get back to the normality that they craved.
"That's quite a team you got there, Jethro." Ducky reminded the Team Leader quietly from where he stood next to him in the shadows as they both watched the way Tim and Tony settled the situation between them and then get back to work without further ado. "Every one of them always does their best for you."
Gibbs couldn't help but smile. "I know Duck. I know