Deep Breathes, Short Pants
A short ficlet for Pam, as a thank you for doing SeSa.
From Pat
F7
Why is it after holidays and high days, or even after low days, you look at yourself and hate. You overeat, well in his case he snacked. He forgot, no would forget to eat. So you make yourself a big plate of sandwiches, and biscuits. High in carbohydrates and plenty coffee, just to see you through into the small hours. That, and the pipe. Biting the stem concentrating. Chapter after chapter---snack after snack. It was only when they had gone to the gym.
"Bit chunky, Probie. Overdone the Christmas pud?"
"Carrying excess baggage, McGee." the Boss had added.
He looked at Gibbs, and thought "hey so are you", but Gibbs was 20 years older and still in good shape.
"Tim, getting cuddly I see, but I like cuddly." Ziva smiled.
That was why, he had decided to get fit. He remembered the judo and Kate. No something more. He looked in his wardrobe, his drawers……..drawers, as Ducky said so British……no, in US, pants. He tried them on. They were ……..tight to say the least, and ever so slightly revealing.. No, they were very tight and emphasised…yes the excess weight. Love handles. As Kate would have said, his meat and two veg. No she ate healthily, so that would be tomatoes and banana. It showed just how much he had to get fit. He needed trainers, cheap ones. Sears sale. What if he met the Boss, he could hear the conversation.
"Last book fail McGee? Overstretching your rent or just overspending on designer gear?" thinking of the expensive jacket.
"No Boss, credit crunch. Got to watch the cents."
"Good thinking Tim, like your train of thought."
He still bought the trainers. He started to run round the block and gradually build up. He bought a pedometer, one, two, three………this was getting easy. Or so he thought until that fateful Saturday morning……………..
****
He lay on the side walk, in agony. He could not move his leg. The pain was excruciating. He had started to run in the park, hoping to met Ziva. There was also another runner, who, he had passed the time of morning with. No, she had passed him laughing, "Getting better." she had shouted.
He didn't know what to do. He wanted to die.
"McGee what are you doing?" he heard a familiar voice whisper.
"Ziva….that you." he cried.
"No it's the dreaded lurgy. What has happened?" now looking Tim up and down, or should that be longways, trying not to laugh.
"Please, I got cramp……..I can't move………I need help."
"You certainly do, Probie." DiNozzo now answered. "And definitely not regular issue shorts."
"Stop it Tony." Ziva replied now glaring, "Tim you need to take deep breathes. Get the air back into your lungs and stop hyperventilating. That's it." as she watched Tim start to recover slowly.
"What's Tony doing here?" he asked.
"I was passing in the car. Saw you, and then you collapsed. Just as well Ziva was following you."
"You were foll…………." as he grabbed his leg, again, the calf.
"Have for a few days………..I just can't get over your attire."
"And you told Tony?" he tried to shout.
"No……well…….I said I had seen you running." she replied sheepishly.
"You tell anyone else?" thinking please not the Boss, please.
Just as he hoped, that it couldn't get any worse, he heard the sound of a car screech to a halt and he heard the familiar footsteps. He turned his head to face the pristine shoes of one Special Agent Gibbs.
"Definitely I would say, deep breathes, short pants, McGee."
