More Than a Heap of Stones
NFA White Elephant Exchange (WEE) fic for djmichaels
Prompt: How does someone who has lived in an apartment for most of their lives suddenly deal with all of the highs and lows of owning a home? The title was inspired by a quote by Henri Poincare: an accumulation of facts is no more a science than a heap of stones is a house.
Rating: FR-15/T
Genre: Drama/Family with a touch of supernatural. AU as of half-way through season 10, but no real spoilers.
Summary: McGee moves out of his apartment. Over the course of a year, the agent learns how to adjust to life in the country, encounters with the locals, and an old house that seemingly has a soul all of its own.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of their respective copyright holders. No infringement intended. The original characters and places mentioned are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to those living, dead, or undead is completely coincidental.
He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Chapter 1 – January
Tim stomped his feet to dislodge the snow clinging to his shoes and opened the exterior door to his apartment building. Since it was almost midnight the small lobby was quiet and deserted - a relief to the exhausted agent who had no desire to deal with the scrutiny of his neighbors. Tim was battered, bruised, and more than a little damp, the result of a tumble he had taken on his way home from the Metro station. Tim knew from experience that when it snowed in D.C. traffic was a nightmare and had elected to take the public transport to work that morning. He had started to regret that decision when their current case had kept them occupied well past the normal work day and he was faced with a late-night trip home. He regretted it even more when the walk home had resulted in his current state. He really wished the city did a better job of clearing the sidewalks…
When he finally reached his own apartment he noticed the corner of an envelope sticking out from under the door. Instinct borne from years on the job took over and he crouched down to peer under the door to see if anything else awaited him. Finding nothing else amiss, he then removed a pair of tweezers from his backpack and carefully extracted the envelope. The outside bore his name and apartment number and the upper left corner was printed with the name of a local law firm. Deciding that the envelope was legit, Tim opened his door and stepped inside where he dropped it on the counter.
After he had showered and changed into dry sweats and a t-shirt, he re-examined the envelope before carefully opening it and pulling out the folded piece of paper within. He started to read the letter and groaned when he realized what it meant. His landlady, Mrs. Miller, had finally decided to sell the building and the company that had purchased it had decided to turn the apartments into condominiums. The company was giving the current residents first choice to purchase their apartments/condos, but the asking price caused Tim's eyebrows to rise in disbelief. Sure, he could probably afford it, but it seemed a bit exorbitant. A quick mental calculation told him the mortgage would be about the same as his rent, but the prospect of yearly association fees caused his heart to sink. It looked like he'd be searching for a new place to live in the very near future.
Tim looked around his apartment. He didn't have an emotional attachment to it, no more so than any of the other temporary homes he had lived in over the years, but he hated the idea of packing and moving. At least now he could maybe find a place closer to work and save himself the frustration of commuting the distance he did now.
With a sigh, he set the letter on the kitchen counter and headed for his bedroom. At least he had thirty days to make a final decision - plenty of time to find a new place.
He hoped.
XXX
An early-morning call from Gibbs, summoning McGee to the scene of a crime, set off a chain of events which kept the agent occupied for the next few days. Between the processing of the scene, the searches of the victim's and suspects' records, interviewing witnesses and associates, and running down leads, McGee barely had time to breathe, much less worry about his impending housing decision. Finally, after a breakthrough which led the team to the suspect's hideout and a raid which had resulted in said suspect being in custody, all that was left to do for the case was to finish the reports. The team had earned a weekend off, so Tim had decided to start his search for a new place.
McGee sent his report to the printer and while he was waiting, he pulled up the local classified ads on his computer. He typed in a few key words to narrow his search and started reading. He had a couple of possibilities by the time the case report finished printing and he made note of those on his phone before he went to retrieve the report. Once he had that signed and on Gibbs' desk, he resumed his search. There wasn't much available that was close to the Yard, in his price range, and in a suitable neighborhood, but at least he had something to work with.
Tony and Ziva returned to work on their own reports and since there were still several hours left in the work day, McGee turned his attention to cold cases. He was deep in the middle of a three-year old case when he became aware of someone's presence. He looked up, expecting to see one of his co-workers, but an unfamiliar young man in a courier's uniform was standing in front of his desk.
"Timothy McGee?"
"Yes?"
"Certified letter for you. Please sign here." The courier held out a clipboard and Tim automatically reached for it but paused when the oddness of the situation struck him.
"Who is it from?"
The courier checked the address. "Smith, Jones, Pomeroy and Turner. It's a law firm."
"Why was it sent to my work address?"
"Sorry, no idea. I just deliver the letters."
Tim sighed and took the proffered clipboard before scratching his signature next to his name on the list. The courier handed him the letter and took his clipboard, sending McGee a mock salute before heading back to the elevator.
"Did you get served, Probie?" Tony asked as he strode over to the desk and grabbed the letter from Tim's hand.
Tim snatched it back. "I have no idea."
"Perhaps you should find out," Ziva added as she joined Tony in standing by McGee's desk.
"A little privacy, please?" Tim asked as he rolled his eyes. His teammates retreated to their respective desks and watched as Tim opened the envelope. He started to read the letter and his heart sank.
"What's wrong?"
Tim reached up and rubbed his eyes. "My great-aunt Cassandra – Penny's sister – she passed away a few days ago."
"I'm sorry, man," Tony said with a genuine look of regret on his face.
"Were you close?" Ziva asked, a similar expression crossing her face as well.
"Not as close as I was to Penny, but…she visited a lot when I was growing up, and we kept in touch while I was in college and after I started at NCIS. She moved out west after her husband died and I haven't seen her for a few months." Tim shook his head. "Her memorial service is next week – the 31st. I better fill out a leave slip and -"
"I'll make sure you can be there," Gibbs assured him as he walked up to McGee's desk.
"Thanks, Boss."
"McGee."
"Yes, Boss?"
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Tim nodded, barely managing to keep his expression neutral. "Thanks."
"We are sorry as well, McGee," Ziva added and Tony nodded in agreement.
"Thanks, guys." He started to read the letter again and his eyebrows rose in surprise.
"What?"
"She, uh, remembered me in her will. The reading will be at her lawyer's office in D.C., after the service." A flash of guilt crossed his face. "I wish I could have seen her before…"
"It was nice that she thought of you, McGee. I am sure she understood."
Tim folded the letter and put it back in its envelope before slipping it into his coat pocket. He paused for a minute to collect his thoughts and then got back to work, although truthfully his heart wasn't in it. He'd have to call Penny later, and then Sarah. While his sister had not been as close to their great-aunt, she would still need consoling. He'd have to fulfill that role just as he always had while tamping down his own grief.
Cassandra had not been as flamboyant as Penny but she had been a stable influence in his sometimes chaotic childhood. While she, like Penny, had not great love for the military, she understood his desire to have some connection to the Navy. She had never approved of Tim's father's attitude towards his son, but her support of his career choice has meant nearly as much as Penny's, and he had enjoyed their talks and written communication over the years. She had been a good listener, and he would really miss that.
Tim sighed. Another loss. One of the tragedies of growing older, it seemed. He only hoped he wouldn't have to face more of those in the near future, from either family.
XXX
The memorial service was fairly low-key but well attended. Tim's father had not been there, as expected, but Tim had been too busy comforting his grandmother and sister to worry about that. Much. He had been reminded during the service of how many people his great-aunt had touched and he decided that he really couldn't worry about the ones who failed to recognize that.
After the service he found himself, along with Sarah and Penny, in an ostentatious conference room waiting for the lawyer to arrive. When the rotund, slightly pompous man finally graced them with his presence, Tim managed to reign in his annoyance and settled in to listen. After a rather long-winded introduction by the lawyer, the basics of the will were laid out for the three individual beneficiaries. Tim sat in silence, stunned. He had never expected this, and truthfully really wasn't sure how to handle the gift which had been bestowed upon him.
A house.