Tim turned up the jazz…turned it down…found a happy medium. But nothing was working. Even Jethro was starting to get agitated at his owner's frustration. The dog watched nervously as Tim began to pace from the door to his type writer and back again. Eventually Jethro took his usual spot under the computer desk and nodded off…
Even he couldn't take much more of this.
Tim on the other hand, had experienced writers block before. This was nothing new. After all, even Thoreau had writers block at some point right? But then, Timothy McGee wasn't in a cabin in the woods; although its allure became more attractive by the second.
"Gah!" Came the annoyed response from his lips as he simultaneously ran a hand through his hair. "Come on Thom, think."
He let his fingers hover over the type writer as if some supernatural force would over take them; beckoning them to move. Only they didn't. He couldn't even free write for heavens sake. And what was the world coming to when Thom E. Gemcity couldn't even free write?
It was then a knock came at the door. But Tim was so entranced with watching his fingers that it took Jethro's barking to make him get up and answer it. He looked through the key hole and opened it with a plastered smile on his face. "Hey Abs."
"Hey…how's the writing coming along?" She answered between licks on the face from Jethro.
"Slower than molasses."
"Oh, good metaphor Timmy. Use that." She gestured towards the type writer.
"I would. If I was writing about syrup…what's up with you? Its Saturday…shouldn't you be taking your boat class with Gibbs?"
"Nah." She shook her head. "He uh, got a little impatient with me last Saturday so I thought I'd give him the night off…besides, my hands were losing their softness. Figured they needed a break."
"Wish I could catch a break…my publishers have been breathing down my neck for another book; but I have a wall the size of the white house infront of me."
"Awww. Poor Timmy. What you need is a distraction."
"No, what I need is my muse back." He rested his forehead in his hands just as he felt her hands begin to massage his shoulders.
"Just relax McGee…" Abby soothed, working magic with her fingers.
Tim was slowly but surely doing just that. "Wow Abs…that's really nice…"
"Thanks." She said with a note of glee and continued until she sensed McGee was fully relaxed. "Feel better?"
"Yeah," he responded a bit groggy. "I just wished it helped with my muse as much as it did my muscles."
Abby bit her lip. "Have you tried eating ice cream? Always helps me when I'm stuck."
"You don't write novels Abby…"
"No, but I write songs and stuff…"
Tim looked a bit surprised. "You never told me that."
"I didn't? Well maybe I've been hanging around Gibbs too long? Oh my gosh, maybe I'm starting to withhold details about my life…what's next? Oh man McGee, I'm gonna start building a sail boat in my apartment…"
Tim reached for her shoulders. "Abby calm down. I'm sure it just never came up."
She took a few deep breaths. "Okay, but if I start shopping at home depot or something. Promise you'll rescue me from myself."
"I promise." He assured her.
"Phew," she ran a hand across her forehead. "Well, now that that crisis is over. Back to yours. Have you tried ice cream?"
"No, I haven't tried ice cream."
She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the freezer. She sorted through the healthy fruit bars and finally came across a tub of Rocky Road. "Saving this for a rainy day McGee?"
"I've been trying to watch my figure."
"Does it help your figure, if it's pushed all the way to thr back of the freezer?"
He shrugged. "Out of sight. Out of mind."
"Good point," she agreed, navigating through his kitchen with ease and preparing both of them a generous serving. "Now, go on, I promise it will help."
"And if it doesn't."
She swirled the first bite around in her mouth. "It can't hurt."
Tim managed a small smile as he took bite after bite until there was nothing left. And after placing the bowl on the floor for Jethro to lick the remnants he stood up like a lightning bolt and raced towards the typewriter. Abby hurried in the same direction and jumped up and down happily.
"It worked! It worked!"
Tim's fingers were moving faster than he ever thought possible. Not even Abby's presence behind him and Jethro's sudden barking could break his train of thought. That was until Abby's excitement overflowed into a swift kiss on the cheek.
He momentarily let his focus wane. "What was that for?"
"Sorry, couldn't help it…just something about you typing away that gets me all worked up!"
And then came his internal debate. Should he stop now and address that statement or continue writing? After all, it had been months since he'd been able to type like this. It was then the debate was answered for him.
"Just keep writing Timmy; I'm not going anywhere."
And so he did. While Abby and Jethro finished off the last of the Rocky Road. It was a full four hours before he was finished and stood up to find the two curled up on his bed asleep. He covered her gently and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thanks Abby."
He then placed himself at a safe distance on the bed; Jethro filling the space between the two friends. But Tim didn't mind and let a small smile fall across his face; he'd get to the bottom of Abby's statement in the morning…