Tim's First Time
Summary: McGee gets his first taste of Gibbs's discipline. Tag to Driven (4x11). Warning: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.
Spoilers: passing references to various episodes Seasons 1-4 in addition to Driven.
A/N: This is part of my series that began with The Lesson and contains references to that story and to The Apology. I recommend that you read The Apology before reading this, in order to understand McGee's reactions here. This one is a bit different from the other stories in the series - less action, more focus on what is going on inside the characters' heads. What can I say - after The Apology, my Muse decided that a very freaked-out Tim needed a lot of attention paid to his 'first time'.
Warning: This story is a graphic and detailed description of the physical and emotional experiences of an adult/adult discipline (i.e. non-sexual) spanking. If that isn't something you want to read, click on that 'back' button now. If you keep reading and get squicked, I don't want to hear about it.
NCIS Special Agent Tim McGee sat as his desk, absolutely certain that he was about to be spanked by his boss. He realised that his hands were actually shaking, and the ambient noises of the bullpen sounded muffled, like he was hearing them from underwater. He closed his eyes and tried to take slow, calming breaths. It didn't help.
He knew that Gibbs preferred a more 'hands-on' approach to team discipline than the NCIS regs really allowed. He'd had to watch, astonished and helpless, when Gibbs had unceremoniously pinned Kate to his desk and whipped her with his belt for disobeying his orders. He had seen the way that Tony moved awkwardly and tried to avoid sitting down after his usual antics went a bit too far, and he'd once seen the welts on Tony's backside after Gibbs had taken a switch to him during a case on a Marine base. He had a pretty good idea what was going to happen to him.
It had taken him a long time to come to terms with his boss's unorthodox methods.
He'd accepted the head-slaps, initially because he was too terrified of Gibbs to protest and too eager to fit in to risk letting the others see him as someone who couldn't cope with being smacked upside the head when he screwed up. And they weren't so bad, really. They usually didn't hurt... much... and he always deserved either the rebuke or the wake-up call. And it was well known around the office that, while Gibbs demanded the highest standards of any team leader in the agency, he was also fiercely loyal to his team. If accepting his discipline was what it took to be a part of that, then he'd willingly endure the glares, the barked reprimands that never failed to remind anyone within ear-shot that Gibbs was a Marine Gunnery Sergeant, and yes, the head-slaps.
It had taken him a lot longer to accept that his boss really expected the team to submit to actual spankings. Eventually he'd recognised that it was part of Gibbs's sense of team loyalty – he'd do everything he could to protect his team from outsiders, including the agency's own chain of command, but avoiding formal sanctions such as suspensions meant that he needed another way to deal with serious offences... a way that was off-the-record, swift, and severe enough to leave no doubt that there had been sufficient punishment. Tony had reassured him that Gibbs had never given him more than he could handle. And it was obvious that the absence of a paper-trail meant that there would be no long-term career implications. McGee recognised that Gibbs's approach made sense in theory. But he'd never had to deal with the reality of it. Until now.
There were a couple of times when he knew he'd been extraordinarily lucky to escape a spanking. He'd messed up a couple of times in the field. He'd shot that cop, then hesitated when a gun had been pulled on Gibbs. He'd left Abby alone when he was supposed to be providing protection. Just recently, he'd not trusted Gibbs when his sister had turned up on his doorstep covered in blood. Over the years, he'd been scolded and head-slapped and threatened with removal from the team if he did it again. He'd even had his chair taken away for a while, and been made to kneel at his desk in a bizarre demonstration of contrition that made him wonder if Gibbs's background was really in the Marines... or a mediaeval monastery! But he'd never been ordered to bend over and let Gibbs whip him.
He knew that was about to change. He'd been so caught up in his own task that he hadn't noticed that the homicidal car had locked Abby inside and was proceeding efficiently to gas her. If Gibbs hadn't happened to step out of the elevator at the right moment and seen what was happening, Abby would be dead. And he would have been only a few feet away when it happened, and done nothing.
He knew from the look in Gibbs's eyes when the case was finally wrapped up, when he'd ordered him to go back to his desk and wait for him, that Gibbs wasn't going to let him off this time. He'd always imagined that he'd see anger there, or maybe disappointment, if he were ever facing a spanking. He hadn't expected also to see regret. But it had been the unmistakeable sense that Gibbs didn't want to do what he was planning to do that had made him realise what was coming.
He knew he deserved it. Not looking out for team-mates was one of the worst offences in Gibbs's eyes. It was right up there with blatant defiance of his orders or lying to him. And not looking out for Abby was particularly egregious – not only because Gibbs saw her as a surrogate daughter, but also because she didn't have the self-defence and weapons training that the field agents did.
But on top of everything else, it wasn't just that he knew that Gibbs would think he deserved it. He'd let Abby down. And he'd let Gibbs down, just when his relationship with him seemed to be becoming more like what he'd always envied Tony for having with him. That chat Gibbs had had with him when he was upset about Tony still calling him 'Probie'. The way that he sometimes called him 'Elf Lord', with something like affection in his voice, when he didn't use nicknames for any other members of the team. And now he had utterly failed to live up to Gibbs's expectations of him, and betrayed his trust that he'd look out for his team-mate like he was supposed to do. McGee was surprised to find that, despite the sheer terror he was feeling, he actually felt that he deserved to be punished.
And he was feeling sheer terror. Blind, panic-stricken fear. He'd never had to endure a severe spanking, even as a child. The most he'd ever experienced was a few hard swats with his father's open palm. He didn't really know how bad it would be, and that frightened him. And he wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to take whatever Gibbs was planning to do to him. Of course Gibbs would never actually harm anyone under his command; he was in no real danger. But he wasn't a Marine. He wasn't good at ignoring pain. He felt sick at the thought that Gibbs would almost certainly see him cry, and wondered if he'd be able to stop himself from pleading for it to end. In a moment of sudden clarity, he realised that he'd never been so afraid of anything in his life, and that there was nothing he could do to avoid it.
McGee bolted from his desk, not even hearing the ding of the elevator as he raced across the squad room. He suddenly found himself face-to-face with his boss.
'You going somewhere, McGee?'
'Just to the head, Boss.'
'Ok. Meet me in the conference room when you're done.'
The words were not spoken unkindly, but McGee felt as though ice-water had been poured down his spine, and his stomach clenched agonisingly. He barely made it into the men's room before he started to retch.
It seemed like both an eternity later, and far too soon, that he was standing at the door of the conference room. He'd rinsed his mouth, but the sour taste of vomit still lingered. His skin felt clammy. He was light-headed. He wondered desperately if he could manage to actually pass out and miss the whole thing.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
'I'm ready, Boss.'