A/N: This is my entry for the NFA Dark and Stormy Night challenge in which we had to incorporate a series of words (earth, wind, fire, water, atmosphere, stone) into the story. I did that...and wrote 26 chapters along with those words. It's Tim-centered and it's also a type of catharsis for Tim-fans who are annoyed with his treatment on the show on occasion. This means that if you approve of everything Tony says and does (along with everyone else), you really won't like this. :)

Disclaimer: Not mine! Not mine! I make no money off this...more's the pity.

Just a Geek?
by Enthusiastic Fish

Chapter 1

Tim slammed his door and didn't feel any better than he had when he'd slammed his car door...or when he'd slammed the button on the elevator, running out of NCIS as if he was acting out the name of a Meat Loaf album. He couldn't remember another time in his life when he'd felt as angry as he did at this moment. His mind was a raging torrent of mixed emotions and suddenly he remembered just what he'd done...and was surprised that he felt nothing other than anger. No regret. For the second, and final time, he'd turned in his badge and gun. This time, no one was interested in giving them back (being hit in the face with a badge might have had something to do with it)...and he wasn't interested in taking them.

"Again, McGee?"

"Why didn't you get this done when I told you to before?"

"I thought you were supposed to be smart, McGee. So much for that."

"What in the world do you think you have to offer NCIS, anyway?"

Remembering the catalog of snide remarks he had endured, not just that day, but throughout his tenure at NCIS, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to get away from them all. He never wanted to talk to a single person at NCIS again. They treated him like crap...or else like he was nothing but comic relief. No more.

Ever.

His phone started ringing, almost exactly as he had the thought. He flipped it open and looked at it. Of course, he had everyone's names and numbers programmed into it. Who else would be calling him? No one beyond family...and that was something he didn't want to think about. No one else even thought about lowly Timothy McGee. He was nothing more than an automaton who had no feelings, no concerns. He didn't care if no one liked him, if they treated him like dirt. Why would a geek have feelings?

It was Tony.

Tim laughed loudly and his sarcastic chuckle sounded totally unlike him. Just reading Tony's name brought the rage boiling back to the fore again. He answered but didn't give Tony a chance to say a single word.

"DiNozzo, if I want to hear more insults from you, I'll call. Otherwise, keep your dumb mouth shut and leave me alone!" He nearly shouted the last word and then hung up. He had taken so much crap from Tony since he'd been working at NCIS, and he was done with that. Someone would show up. He knew that. They would come with their insincere apologies or trying to make him "see reason" or something else. ...and he'd cave. He'd be forced to crawl back and beg for his job...in order to suffer through more of it. Not this time. He wouldn't. He couldn't. No more.

He strode into his bedroom and began packing a bag. If he wasn't here, no one could try and talk to him. He wouldn't have to think about anything else. He could forget about NCIS, about how much he'd loved it, about what it meant to him to get the job he'd always wanted. The fact of the matter was that no one really wanted him there...not really. They wanted a caricature. They wanted someone to be a grunt. Well, Abby was good enough with computers. They didn't really need him.

Thinking about Abby made the anger burn hot again. Jethro. That dog. He was at Gibbs' place right now. Good thing, too. Tim was not in the mood to confront the living proof of Abby's total disregard for him. Gibbs had made the suggestion that Jethro could use the backyard while they were at work; so that he didn't have to be shut up in Tim's apartment. Tim couldn't find it in himself to hate the dog, but he could, right now, find it in himself to hate Abby, to resent her callous attitude toward Tim having any other feeling but those she allowed him to have.

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, followed by thunder. Then, the lights went out. Tim laughed sourly. Figured. He'd seen the storm clouds as he drove home, but he'd not really noticed them in his fury. To be honest, it was a miracle he'd managed to drive at all...as angry as he'd been...as he still was. Knowing where everything was in his apartment served him well and he continued shoving items into his bag. Then, he stalked into the bathroom and grabbed a few essentials from there as well.

His phone started to ring again. It was Abby this time. Again, the anger surged. He thought about ignoring it, but no. No longer would he let Abby think he was okay.

"Abby, Jethro is at Gibbs' house. I don't know if he's been fed. I don't care if he's been fed. He can curl up and die for all I care. Okay? You care about that dog more than you ever cared about me; so you can take care of him! I'm done. You hear me? Done!" Again, he hung up before allowing any response. He thought he heard a faint sound as he disconnected, but he didn't care.

He grabbed his bag off the bed and stormed to the door. Yanking it open, he automatically checked for his badge and gun before remembering that he'd left them at NCIS. Left them. He'd thrown them. Well, he hadn't thrown the gun. He had some sense, even if no one gave him credit for that. No, they didn't think he had any abilities. He wondered why in the world Gibbs had even bothered to bring him onto his team when he had so little respect for him.

Tim reached the outdoors just as the rain began pouring down in raging torrents. The wind was blowing hard and he stood for a moment, thinking that the weather was reflecting his own emotions. He looked up and down the street, watching people running for cover and he didn't even care that he was getting wet. He didn't care that the rain was pelting his face, soaking him to the bone. All he cared about was that he was getting away.

Yes, finally, free. Let Keating deal with them. I should never have left Cybercrimes. At least they appreciated me down there.

"McGee!"

Tim heard the voice, knew who it belonged to, but he didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to see anyone from NCIS, and that included Ziva with her superior physical skills, her now-superior investigative skills. Her overall superiority. He walked to his car, ignoring her continued calls behind him, growing nearer all the time. He jerked his door open, threw his bag onto the passenger side and turned back, squinting through the rain being blown into his eyes.

"Why don't you guys get it? I'm leaving and I don't want to see you ever again! You can torment and abuse someone else! I'm done!" he shouted over the roaring wind.

"McGee! Wait!"

He didn't listen. He got into his car, locked the doors, put it into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, relishing the feeling of having had the last word for once in his life.

It was a dark and stormy night...and one man was through, he thought to himself and laughed aloud again, angry and, hidden deep beneath the anger, a hurt that had surprised him with its intensity.