Monday Morning 0645
June 2010
With the lingering effects of one too many nights spent wrapped up in loneliness disguised as online gaming, Tim strolls into work, albeit a bit slower than usual. He's really tired of life passing him by, at least on a personal level, defined sharply by the mundane routine that has become his private life. It's a sad truth that has been staring him the face lately and one he's thoroughly fed up with seeing.
He's always wanted to be a dad and by the looks of things that's never going to happen. Maybe it was time to think outside the box. Do something he'd never consider on a normal day; like adoption or mail order bride. He knows it's not unheard of, seeking a relationship this way. He's tried the online dating and goodness knows that didn't work out. After all, the time for normal answers was passing him by.
With a mental shrug, he stowed that private battle back under lock and key, turning his focus onto his work; or rather, onto the pristine whiteness of the envelope currently sitting on his desk, in sharp contrast to the surrounding surface's dark color. He couldn't explain it, but seeing that piece of mail dropped his stomach down to his shoes and froze him in his tracks.
From where he stood now, he could see there was no return address, but there was regular postage on it, as well as the stamp that vetted the envelope as far as mail went these days. Still, Tim couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about it.
Steeling himself to face it, he traveled the remaining distance to his desk, opened his drawer to remove a latex glove from his spare supply for such emergencies, and put it on. With great trepidation, he picked the envelope up and scrutinized it carefully. Local postmark made the mystery even more of a stomach twister.
But it's the sight of what he'd feared the most, taking up the space across the sealed backside that robbed Tim of his next breath. Big, bold, glossy even, threateningly unmistakable in its' meaning, since he'd never forgotten the first time they'd seen one of these. Except this time, it had his name on it! Over and over, his mind screamed one question.
Who hated him enough to do this to him?
***NCIS****
Mondays have never been his favorite day of the week and they always leave him in the mood to find an easy target and tease the hell out of them to get both their morning's going. Usually, McGee is the easiest target and the easiest to locate and hang onto as he roasts him over the spit of his odd humor all day.
One look at his probie now, however, has all thoughts of seeking amusing distractions vaporizing into thin air. Tony can't remember the last time this guy looked so petrified. Scratch that; petrified mixed with anger and disbelief. Yeah, that's what that look was. But why is it on Probie's face?
"Probie? You all right, man?" Tony questions cautiously as Ziva enters the squad room and drops her gear bag off behind her desk.
"Is something wrong?" She asks as she takes in both Tim's current posture and Tony's rising concern.
"What's with the glove routine, man? What going on?" Tony asks as he walks to join the younger man at his desk. His eyes automatically falling to the now sealed evidence bag containing a white letter. "That what I think it is?"
Tim finally raises his eyes up off the letter and looks Tony straight on. "Yeah. And this one's addressed to me."
***NCIS****
"ABBY!" Tony's impertinent bark as he and his teammates hurry into the lab, instantly garner the Lab Rat's attention, causing her to turn toward them in worry.
"Tony! What's wrong?"
Holding up the evidence bag with the envelope in it, he replies almost angrily. "THIS is what's wrong! We need you to do your thing; test it, fingerprint it, the works!"
"What? Why? You guys catch a case or something?" She stalls them successfully, not understanding their over-zealous sense of doom with this letter.
"Just do it, Abby!" Tony barks out, completely unaware of the boss' silent entry into the lab at this point.
Without another word, Abby takes the bag from him and rips it open.
"ABBY, NO!" Tim yells at her to stop. "You can't just do that! What if…"
"What if what, McGee?" She asks with open irritation. "Can't a girl just send a friend a letter these days without everyone having a heart attack over it?"
"What? What are you talking about?" Tim demands angrily.
"I already know there's nothing wrong with this letter, McGee. I sent it to you."
"You sent it." Tony echoes with clear anger.
"Yeah, But I don't get what the big deal is. Jeez. Remind me never to try doing something special to lift your spirits up again, McGee!"
Too angry and frustrated at having been put in this position by someone who calls herself his friend, Tim silently turns and leaves the room, leaving a still angry and still confused Ziva behind as they come to the realization that the boss has witnessed this strange situation between them.
Oddly enough, Tony says nothing to the boss as the two exchange silent communication in the form of the Team Leader's raised eyebrows and Tony's return gesture of turning the evidence bag over so the man can see for himself; what the problem is.
With a nod of his head, Gibbs orders his remaining agents to leave the room. Now Abby's looking uncertain and begins to nervously chew on her bottom lip. "Hey, Gibbs." She says quietly. "Good morning."
"Abby." Is all the reply she gets as he chomps down on his fury.
"It's just a friendly "I'm concerned about you' note between friends, Gibbs, that's all. Timmy's been down lately and I thought it would cheer him up. I don't understand the problem!"
"You don't understand the problem." The Team Leader's quiet repetition of her exact words spells trouble but Abby is still confused.
"No, Gibbs, I don't!"
"What were you thinking? "
"Gibbs! I told you! I was jus…"
"Abby, you sent McGee a SWAK!"