A/N: This is a simple oneshot. No real plot, just some character development.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS, no characters, no sets, no nothing. What a sad world it is. :)
He Who Hesitates
"Boss?"
The voice, mainly its hesitancy, made Gibbs cringe. Some days, it was all he could not to turn around and ask Tim if he was able to make a simple declaration in his presence. He didn't turn around this time, although the temptation was almost irresistible. Instead, he kept his face turned elsewhere.
"What, McGee?" Even to his own ears, his tone was resigned. It said, What in the world is so important that you are interrupting me right now at this very second?
"Uh, I, uh..." Tim sounded like he was steeling himself for something, but they didn't have a case going right now; so it couldn't be that.
Gibbs still didn't look up. "Spit it out, McGee. I'm busy." Busy doing anything that would preclude having a conversation with Mr. Stutters.
"Well, uh, you see... I..."
That was it. The straw that broke the camel's back. Gibbs turned around and stood up, mouth already open for a tirade, looming in such a way that he towered, even over Tim's superior height. He was in the mood to cow.
"McGee, is it possible for you to..." he trailed off. Tim was standing there, his hands holding something behind his back, looking quite honestly ashamed of whatever it was he was trying to say.
"H-happy birthday, B-boss," Tim blurted and brought out a wrapped package. He still seemed very embarrassed, but not nearly so much as Gibbs was. He was speechless. How did McGee even know when his birthday was?
He found himself answering Tim in nearly the same fashion. "Well... thanks, McGee." He took the gift from Tim's outstretched hand. Tim released it with almost a sigh of relief as if he expected a punishment. He looked around uncomfortably and then suddenly looked at his watch.
"Oh... I, uh, I told Abby I'd meet her in the lab... right now." He spun and went to the elevator, just two steps short of running, leaving Gibbs alone in the bullpen with Tim's gift still unopened in his hand.
He analyzed the possibilities. Maybe it was a practical joke, which would make it Tony's idea. Tim would never think of that on his own, but he could see Tim being forced to deliver it... no, that didn't feel right. He shook the gift lightly. No shaking, but it was fairly weighty for its size. Gibbs looked around the bullpen. No one around. He carefully pulled the wrapping paper off and revealed... a cardboard box.
"Oh, great. It's a box!" he muttered to himself facetiously. He opened the box and revealed...Gibbs nearly dropped the box in surprise. "How did he know?" he asked no one in particular. Almost reverently, he pulled the chisel set out of the box, and then removed each one, testing its heft and feel in his hand. These were well-made. Tim hadn't skimped on them, but how in the world had he known, first of all, that it was Gibbs' birthday and, second of all, that he had needed new chisels? There was even a slick in the set. This was one mystery he wasn't willing to let stand.
Gibbs picked up the phone and called down to the lab. "Abby?"
"Yes, Gibbs."
"Is McGee down there?"
"Yes." He heard a soft chuckle from Abby, no doubt a reaction to Tim's expression at being asked for.
"Send him up here, now."
"If he can stand, I'll get him up to you," Abby replied, nearly laughing aloud.
As Gibbs started to hang up, he heard Abby telling Tim that there was no way he was in trouble. A couple of minutes later, Tim shuffled shamefacedly off the elevator and over to Gibbs' desk.
"McGee," Gibbs said sternly.
"Yes, Boss?" Tim replied. He had long since learned the folly of not meeting Gibbs' gaze, but had mastered the difficult art of looking but not looking.
Gibbs looked at him for a long moment. He realized that he didn't need to know how Tim had found out about his birthday. It would have been easy enough to do. He didn't need to know how Tim had known what to get him. But there was something he did need to know.
"Why?"
Finally, actually meeting Gibbs' eyes, Tim answered, "It's your birthday."
"But why, McGee?"
Tim shrugged. "That's what fr..." he trailed off, embarrassed again, and looked away. Then, unexpectedly, he steeled himself and met Gibbs' eyes again. "That's what friends do."
Gibbs blinked. He wasn't often surprised by Tim. He'd gotten used to his new role as an author, his increased wealth, his computer skills. Tim was often the butt of every joke made in the team, and here he was saying that he considered Gibbs a friend. What could he say to that? What was there to say?
Finally, Gibbs gave a rare smile and held out his hand. Tim took it, after a short hesitation, and shook it firmly. There was a moment of understanding... of friendship.
"Thanks, McGee."
"You're welcome, Boss."