Setting: Set mid-season 6.
A/N : This is set in mid-season 6, however there are out of sequence references from seasons 7-9. Let's just say I needed certain conditions to exist so chopped up the canon timeline. Also, to avoid casting aspersions on any of our fine American cities, I made up the name "Bayopolis".
Disclaimer 1: I do not own NCIS and am definitely not making any money with this story.
Disclaimer 2: Any appearance to any other author's work is not intentional and is probably influenced by them being one of my favorite authors. When you read a story often enough, bits and pieces stick with you. I've asked permission and credited the two I knew I was borrowing from.
Tim picked his case report up off the printer and handed it to Gibbs who smirked and graciously gave him a rare "Good work McGee!" As McGee turned to cross the aisle to his desk, his attention was caught by the two FBI agents emerging from the elevator. Agents Fornell and Sacks were familiar figures and usually meant trouble for Gibbs' team. Gibbs, noticing Tim still standing in the aisle, turned to see what had his eye.
"Tobias, what case of yours do you need us to solve today?" Gibbs growled.
"Good afternoon to you too, Jethro. We just need to talk with McGee – privately." Tobias retorted.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow at McGee who shrugged his shoulders.
"Ok, Fornell, I'm coming too. You can have 15 minutes, unless we get a call out. DiNozzo, David, finish those reports, then grab a cold case from the stack," Gibbs said, continuing, "Tim, Fornell, Sacks, to the conference room."
As they walked out of the bullpen, Gibbs, in the back of the pack, looked at Tony and tilted his head slightly. Tony gave a brief nod and as the group disappeared down the hallway, he called Director Vance to let him know what was going on.
As the four of them entered the conference room, Tim turned to Fornell and asked, "What's this about?"
"Sit down, McGee, we have some questions for you." replied Fornell.
McGee sat, facing the door, with Gibbs to the left of him, Fornell at one end and Sacks across the table. Sacks took a file from his briefcase while Fornell asked Tim:
"Do you know Svetlana Stacevyko?
"No, I don't know anyone by that name."
Sacks opened the file folder and slid a 5X7 photo across to McGee.
"What about her?" asked Fornell.
McGee's normally pale face went as white as the edging of the photograph and he blinked his eyes several times.
"That's my stepmother." he replied.
"So what name do you know her by?"
"Did know her by, I haven't had any contact with her since she abandoned us in 1986. When she was first hired by my father as our housekeeper/nanny, we called her Natalie. Later my father told us to call her 'Mother'."
"Last name?" questioned Fornell.
"No idea. I think I was 5 years old at the time and my brother 4; I doubt my father thought her last name was important for us to know."
Off to his left, Gibbs' right eyebrow climbed to the sky in shocked anger at the mention of the word "abandoned" and his eyes gave away his further surprise when Tim mentioned his brother.
"Her real name is Svetlana Stacevyko and she has an interesting story to tell. Before we get into that, why don't you tell us your background, Agent McGee?" demanded Fornell.
McGee turned to Gibbs, silently sitting beside him. Tim could tell from the look on his boss's face that he had questions for him already, so he answered what he knew would be the first one Gibbs would want to know once he started telling his life story.
"Boss, I've always wondered if you knew any of this. The names, dates and facts are in my personnel file, I put it all in there. You've never said anything, beyond mentioning my degrees, but I know better than to assume you've read my whole file. There was never any compelling reason for me to bring it up with you. By the time I felt ready to ask you on general principles, the team had been split up, and I was in Cybercrimes; didn't work for you anymore. Both Directors Morrow and Vance know everything; I told Morrow when I was first hired, when I was assigned to Norfolk. He told me not to worry about it. I didn't know whether he'd passed the information along to Director Shepard and with her death, I thought I'd better let Director Vance know." Tim took a breath and sighed internally with relief as he received a visual acknowledgement from his boss and a slight tip of the head that also told him Vance had been alerted.
He turned back to Agent Fornell, saying, "Before I start this, I want an attorney present."
Fornell said, with a grin that was more grimace, "This is just a friendly conversation, McGee, why would you want an attorney?"
"Because you've had at least 2 'friendly conversations' with my colleagues in the past and each has turned into you accusing them, wrongfully but accusing nonetheless, of murder and treason. It may not be you pulling the strings on this one, Agent Fornell; I understand that. I've done nothing wrong, I'll share what information I have, but will not go beyond this point without legal representation."
Out of the corner of his eye, Tim saw Gibbs' acceptance of his point and heard his boss's cell phone buzz. Gibbs answered, speaking quickly and quietly. Disconnecting the call, he told them that Vance had contacted an attorney who would be on site within minutes. Rising, he motioned Tim to get up with him, then announced that the two of them were going for coffee, would be back in 15. Growling a bit, Fornell let them pass out of the room, after making sure Gibbs agreed to stretch the meeting's original 15 minutes.
Line Break
As they walked to the coffee shop, Tim started thinking about the family history he was going to have to share. It was not a pleasant one and he wasn't sure he would be allowed to stop where he needed. Further, his co-workers already knew something was up. Tony in particular would not stop harassing Tim to get whatever information he could. Tim sighed. He was going to have to tell them all.
Gibbs looked at him, "Big sigh, Tim. Want to tell me what that's about?"
Tim sighed again, "Boss, I'm sorry, I just…it's just that this is my life, my private life, it's pretty painful and I've never wanted anyone to know, especially DiNozzo. He makes my life hell on an ordinary….ahhh, never mind."
"Because he would tease you about it? And I know he made your life hell when you were green, McGee, but that should not still be happening."
"Trust me, there's nothing in this that is funny or "tease worthy" in any way, shape or form. And yes, it is still happening, if he's not pulling pranks on me, he's breaking into my desk and going through my personal belongings. And now he's going to drive me insane wanting to know what's up. But…I think I'd rather take the risk of him knowing than have to deal with whatever Fornell is up to and DiNozzo's harassment."
"I'll have a talk with DiNozzo – about this information – and what you've told me. I have an idea that we can discuss later."
"I appreciate that, Boss. Then can we have the team, Ducky and Jimmy in with us? I only want to go through this once!"
"Abby needs to be told when she returns from her conference, but yeah, I'll get the others."
They got their coffees and quietly walked back to the office. Gibbs was still angry at finding out he didn't know McGee's past, but that anger had dissipated somewhat; he knew his agent needed his support now.
In truth, he found he was angrier with himself than with his agent. The information had been available to him; it was not McGee's fault that as Team Leader he preferred to get to know his agents through experience, without prejudging them from cold flat data in a file. He had not known McGee, no, Tim, had a brother or a stepmother, much less one who had "abandoned" them in 1986. Doing the math, he figured Tim would have been 9, the unnamed brother 8 and Sarah was six years younger, so she would have been 3. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. He didn't know much about McGee beyond his degrees from MIT and Johns Hopkins and what he saw at work. He knew he played online games, had a German Shepherd named Jethro, that Tim had dated Abby in the past, hadn't had much luck with love, Gibbs snorted to himself that he could relate to that, and wrote bestselling novels as a hobby. That was all grownup McGee, uh Tim, though. There was another curious thought: why did he so rarely call McGee by his given name?Gibbs mentally pushed those thoughts into 'later' mode and quickly contacting DiNozzo, told him to call the others into the conference room.
And with that, the two men reached the NCIS building. As they entered, Vance called Gibbs to let him know McGee's attorney had arrived and would meet them in the conference room. Vance rolled his eyes when Gibbs told him the others would be sitting in; when did Gibbs' team not do everything together! He decided he'd best sit in as well, if only to control, try to control he admitted to himself, McGee's protective "family".
Tim, Gibbs, Vance and the attorney all reached the conference room at the same time, to find DiNozzo, Ziva, Ducky and Jimmy already sitting at the table, glaring at the two FBI agents. Vance quickly introduced the attorney, Patricia Newell, to Tim. As they shook hands, she guided Tim back outside the room, closing the door behind them.
"Ok, Agent McGee, Director Vance gave me a quick summary of your childhood and what he saw and heard through the camera in the conference room. Not normally the way I work, but needs must! I know you said you're willing to cooperate, so tell me how you want to do this."
Tim gathered his thoughts. "In the past, the FBI has falsely accused two of my colleagues of crimes; I don't want this to get that far. I'm willing to share what I know and to cooperate, but I don't know what they want and I don't trust that they won't try to accuse me of something. I'm going in there and will tell them the story of my early life, but no more than that. Stop me if I am saying something incriminating – or seem as if I am heading down that path and more importantly, stop them if they start to accuse me of anything illegal. You should also know that I started keeping personal journals when I was 6 and still have them. The events they want to talk about apparently took place between 1977 and 1986; I am unwilling to go beyond that. I should be able to retain some modicum of privacy! Oh, my sister's name is Sarah, she is 6 years younger than me; we also have an adopted brother Rob, a year younger than Sarah. I adopted him when I turned 18 and became his legal guardian, but he'd lived with us since he was a toddler. His name should not come up at all since we didn't meet him until after our abandonment by our stepmother. And I don't want to talk about Bayopolis beyond arriving there; that's "off the table".
"Ok, we can do that. Let's go, shall we?"
Taking a deep breath, Tim opened the door and ushered Ms. Newell inside the room. As they sat, the attorney to the right of him, Tim introduced her to Gibbs, the FBI agents and then his team; she nodded at each and again at Vance in acknowledgment. She looked closely at the FBI agents and then, with a small smile, at Gibbs.
"All right, let's get going, thank you for waiting, although I realize you really did not have a choice. My client is willing to cooperate and share what information he knows. I will be listening for any improprieties in the questioning and of course will stop my client if needed."
Tim began to speak: "I've asked Tony, Ziva, Ducky and Palmer to join us because I only want to go through this information once. As I've previously stated, Director Vance is already aware. Now, you wanted to know about my background, Agent Fornell?"
Fornell nodded. "Probably easier if you start from the beginning and tell us everything, every detail you can remember, Agent McGee."
"Ok, I was born in Bethesda MD on Nov. 15, 1977 to a Navy lieutenant and his wife. I don't know if this matters, but I was born 9 weeks prematurely; my mother's due date was in January '78. When I was a few months old, we transferred to Puerto Rico. My brother Patrick was born there in Oct. of 1978, 11 months younger than me, and my best friend." Underneath the table, Tim felt Gibbs foot tap his own foot briefly, in support he supposed.
"I have no memories of our mother; I do know she died shortly after Patrick was born. My first memories are vague, of life in Puerto Rico, we had a nanny and housekeeper whom we loved dearly and I think we had people visiting us. When I was nearly 3, we moved to Okinawa. All I remember is crying because none of our favorite people came with us. We missed them very much.
We had different ladies come in and out but nobody stayed; then one day my father came home with a person called Natalie. She was quiet, had small eyes, looked mean and we didn't like her. My father did though, so she stayed. We were in Japan until just after my 5th birthday, and then transferred to San Diego. Before we left Japan, Natalie and my father went somewhere together one day and when they came back, my father told us we had to call Natalie "Mother" from now on, that she was now his wife. We still didn't like her but were told we had to obey her."
Fornell stopped him. "McGee, you say you remember people visiting in Puerto Rico? Any idea who, or memories of what they looked like, sounded like?"
Tim thought for a minute. "I vaguely remember a man who had a uniform like my father's but with more medals and things. And also a lady who smelled like cookies and cried whenever she'd see us. Please keep in mind I wasn't even 3 when we left there."
Tim waited for another question; none came from either FBI agent, so he continued.
"After we had been in San Diego for awhile, Natalie started getting fat. Father told us we were going to have a little sister. She sort of paid attention to us when Father was there, but when he was away, she shut herself in her room and talked on the phone a lot and in a funny sounding language. We were gone during the day as we were both in school. We had chores to do around the house and if we didn't do them as she wanted, she would slap and pinch us."
Fornell interrupted: "Did she take you out with her? Did you meet any of her friends or family? Did she talk to you? Do you know what language she was speaking? Did she have an accent? Did she speak the language at any other time? Did your father speak that language, and if so, did they converse in front of you?"
Fornell was beginning to sound like he was losing control; Tim could see he was very anxious, his face had a pinched look and Tim did not like the way he was firing questions at him. What was going on here? He turned toward Gibbs and saw the same question on his face.
"No, the only places she ever took us were to school or church on Sundays. Father told us she didn't have any family. Since she was on the phone a lot, I guess she must have had friends. I don't remember thinking about her having an accent, but until San Diego, we had only lived in places where English was not the native language so perhaps I was used to accents. And yes, as an adult, once I'd heard Gibbs and Ziva speak the same "funny" language, I realized Natalie had been speaking Russian. No, she did not talk to us except to tell us what to do; I don't remember her ever speaking to us in anything other than English. I don't know if my father spoke the language, I never heard him do so and they rarely spoke to each other in front of us."
Fornell started to ask something, paused, wrote something down, and waved him on.
"Sarah was born 2 days after my 6th birthday. Father was home for a few weeks and then left again. One of the things I haven't mentioned yet about my father is that whenever he was in port, he would make a point of picking us up from school each day. Sometimes on base, it was close and he'd walk over and back with us. Sometimes school was off base and he'd drive us. That was another way he could spend a little extra time with us and really the only times we were alone with him."
Tim paused in thought, "After the baby was born, Natalie, we only called her Mother when Father was home, took care of Sarah but she stopped taking care of anything else. I already knew how to use the microwave and how to cook a few simple things, so I made sure Patrick and I ate. We knew how to take care of ourselves, but we didn't know how to do other things so I asked the mother of a friend. And of course, she called Natalie, probably thinking it was sweet or funny that I wanted to help. Natalie… I don't know how to say this politely… Natalie went ape shit on both of us. She knocked us down, beat both of us until the neighbors, hearing our screams, called the Shore Patrol and the base paramedics. Pat and I were in the hospital for 2 days, and then our neighbor took us to her home; Sarah was already there. We stayed there until Father came home on emergency leave. Natalie's doctor diagnosed her with postpartum depression and no charges were filed. Pat and I were terrified of her after that.
I don't know what Father was told but when he came home he told us "Mother" was having a hard time, that she was sorry she'd hurt us and we were all going to pitch in and help her. He explained a little bit about postpartum depression," Tim gave a little chuckle, "Which Pat and I called postpossum depression. As he was telling us this, Natalie was behind him, glaring at us. Father was home for a long time and he hired a housekeeper to help Natalie." Tim paused. "By the time Sarah was a year old, my brother and I took almost complete care of her; Natalie couldn't be bothered. We fed her, dressed her, changed her diapers, bathed her, read her stories, played with her, as well as taking care of ourselves. Luckily, there was a daycare close to our school, so eventually Sarah was there every day. The only thing Natalie did for the family was grocery shop. The housekeeper had only stayed a few months after Father went back to sea, and then it was just us, left alone with Natalie."
Fornell again: "Did Natalie's other habits change? Was she still on the phone a lot? Did you ever hear her call anyone by name? Did people come to the house? Was she going out at night?" He looked at his notes. "What church did she take you to, was it your own church or of her choosing?"
"She was still on the phone a lot, in the mornings and evenings and always spoke in that strange language. I don't remember any names or her going out at night, not while we were in San Diego. I don't know about people coming to the house as Patrick and I were both in school and Sarah would have been too little to remember anything. No one came while we were home. As far as I know, the church was Catholic, although the priest did have a beard and everything sounded different. I thought it was because we were in the US and not in Japan, again since San Diego was my first real experience of living on the mainland US. I don't know if the church was her choosing, but I do know now that Russian Orthodox priests sometimes have beards, so maybe…" Tim sat back in his chair, exhausted. The worst part was still ahead.
Ms. Newell spoke up, "My client needs a break, at least an hour. And when we reconvene, Agent Fornell, it would be helpful – civilized even – if you would ask Special Agent McGee one question at a time rather than machine gunning them at him."
"We'll see, and no, an hour's too long. We've got too much still to cover; the break will have to be short – 10 minutes." Fornell responded.
Gibbs opened his mouth but Vance beat him to it: "30 minutes it is then, Counselor, will that do?"
Making a face, she nodded. She looked at Gibbs, who blinked, gathered everyone but Tim up and out of the room. Tim sighed and put his head in his arms down on the table.
"I still don't know what they're after. I haven't gotten to the worst parts yet."
"Don't worry, I'm watching your back legally and your friends are watching out for you in every other way."
The door popped open; Tony stuck his head in, "Hey Probie, want Chinese or pizza? Ms. Newell, you're welcome to join us."
"Just get me some won ton soup, Tony. Thanks, I don't think anything else would stay down." Tim replied.
"I'll pass, thanks anyway, Agent DiNozzo." the attorney told Tony. Once he'd closed the door again, she turned to Tim.
"They seem very interested in her habits – and what she did with you and your brother."
"Yeah, I wish I'd paid more attention to her but I tried to stay away from her as much as possible", Tim responded.
"I don't ever remember people we didn't know coming over…oh! " Tim jumped up and ran for the door,
"Where did he go, where's Fornell?"
"Tim, wait, you can tell him when he gets back."
Tim thought, then grabbing a pencil, started writing notes. As the others came in with their lunch and beverages, he took his soup, finished with his note and ate.