The Surprise of Being Loved
by channelD
written for: the NFA What If? Challenge. The challenge states:Take an event that has happened atany time in NCIS, and change the outcome/following events. Your challenge is to write what would happen if the canon ending was different.
rating: K plus
genre: Romance? Character study? Hard to classify.
summary: A major change in the events in Tim McGee's life, resulting from a different outcome to the episode Witness.
(spoiler for Witness:) This was the episode in which still-new agent Tim works with one Erin Kendall, the only witness to an alleged crime...only to have the killer go after her, and Tim is unable to rescue her in time.
author's note: I've used the setting of Tim's family living in North Dakota that I've used in other fics. This is not canon.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.
- - - - -
There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved. It is God's finger on man's shoulder. -- Charles Morgan
- - - - -
"I'm so glad you decided to come, Tim." Erin Kendall took his arms, smiled into his eyes, and kicked her apartment door closed behind him.
"Uh, me too." From probably any other girl, Erin's moves would seem like a come-on. But Tim McGee never got those vibes from her. She was a fresh-faced, girl-next-door type, not given to guile. (Well, not much. Everyone is, to some extent.) And he thought he was falling in love with her.
That was all wrong, of course, if he wanted to keep his sanity. Erin was a witness in a murder case. Tim knew he should maintain a professional distance. But he couldn't help it: she was sweet, cute, smart, and funny, and shared a lot of his interests. When this case was closed, he planned to ask her out…and with any luck, go out with her many times. She might turn out to be the girl of his dreams.
Tonight he was supposed to be watching her apartment from the vacant apartment across the street…on the off chance that the killer NCIS was after would try to get her, the witness. He and Erin had talked on the phone for a few minutes, and one of them…he didn't remember which…had suggested he go over there. So much friendlier than talking on a phone. And so here he was, flinching just a little at disobeying Gibbs' orders.
The living room lights were low; just one small table lamp was on in a far corner. A light poured out of a room beyond, the door to which was partially open. She must have been talking to me on the phone in her bedroom, Tim thought, and both gulped and smiled a little.
"Like something to drink, Tim?" Erin said, turning toward her kitchen.
"Don't go to any trouble. But if you have a Diet Coke, or some coffee, I wouldn't say no."
"You got it," said Erin, putting aside with a sigh her thoughts of another glass of wine from the lovely bottle she'd picked up at the market. Tim McGee was a cutie…what if he didn't drink at all? Now, self; this is only a professional meeting. After this is over, you'll probably never see him again…
There was a rattling at the lock, and Tim stiffened. "Stay in the kitchen!" he hissed to Erin. "Someone's trying to break in!"
Tim pressed himself to the wall on the other side of the door. It was all over in seconds: The intruder was surprised by Tim, who knocked him to the floor and handcuffed him. When Tim looked up, Erin was standing over the two of them, waving a frying pan. "Uh…were you going to swing that at him, or at me?"
"That depends," Erin said, lowering it, "on how you answer this question: 'Will you go to the movies with me on Saturday?'"
"Uh…yes?" Tim asked hopefully. They both grinned, hugely, and Tim almost forgot about the intruder. Time to call Gibbs and take the guy…the apartment building manager…into custody.
When Gibbs arrived, he didn't look totally pleased. Not that he ever did. "I told you to watch things from the apartment across the street," Gibbs growled. "Technically, I should put you on report for disobeying an order." Noticing, with satisfaction, Tim's blush, he added, "But since it came out okay, I'll let you off the hook." He looked at Erin and smiled slightly. He could see where this was headed.
- - - - -
There followed a series of dates, to places fun and sometimes intellectually silly. Tim admired Erin's spirit and sense of humor. At times their minds seemed to be running on the same track.
She came 'round NCIS more often on little excuses, and the guards were soon handing her a visitor's badge just for her signature on the log, no ID needed. One said he just liked 'to see the little lady smile'.
Kate was friendly to her; Kate was a friendly person who was open to almost everyone, a a good judge of character. But a 'sisterhood' in Kate and Erin seemed to click, despite their different occupations. They took to spending Saturday mornings together, and Kate would head off when Tim would meet Erin for lunch. At one point, after Tim and Erin had been dating for about six weeks, Kate whispered to Tim, "Hold onto her, McGee. I think she's the one."
"The one what?" said Tim. He'd never been involved in so heady a relationship and found the secret language to be almost impenetrable.
Gibbs, Tony and Ducky all warmed to Erin. Almost immediately Tony stopped referring to her as "Geekette" and instead was saying "Our Erin". For awhile Tim was concerned that Tony might be trying to horn in on them, but soon accepted that he just liked her.
Only one person had trouble with the newcomer. It was so subtle that Tim did not notice it for awhile. Abby had already thrown more than one withering glance Erin's way, on her first visit to NCIS to provide information on the attacker for a sketch. On seeing Tim and Erin happily wandering off the track into other areas, Abby felt anything but loving toward the woman. Would she have felt the same toward anyone else who was making inroads on "her" Tim? Perhaps.
Abby wouldn't admit to herself that Tim could have been hers…if only she'd been willing to make a commitment. She wasn't, but she still wanted him to be unattached, and available, in case she ever changed her mind. She just might want to settle down someday. Why couldn't he see that, and wait for her?
She looked daggers at Erin whenever the woman came to NCIS, and made an excuse to leave the squad room. Oddly, Erin never gave her a sharp look in return, but rather a kind smile. Erin was intent on being on good terms with all of Tim's friends. In part, this was because she wanted to share the friendship Tim had with them. Also—and a feeling of dread came with this—she thought it might be important someday for them to be there for her and Tim.
- - - - -
They spent a lot of time talking. Tim told her all about growing up in Oklahoma and North Dakota, son to a pair of meteorologists. His kid sister, Sarah, was a junior in high school, and determined to go to college in D.C. "I think you two would like each other," he grinned, and wisely did not go farther. He didn't want to blurt out anything that might sound like a proposal.
"I'd adore meeting her," said Erin. "How great that the two of you love literature and writing! I have absolutely no talent there—only code and numbers run in my head."
Erin's background was more exotic than having a parent who chased tornadoes for a living. An only child, she'd been raised by her wealthy Uncle Jack after her parents had died when she was twelve. They'd traveled a lot, and once she was old enough for college, he'd moved to the South Pacific to become a beach comber, in his own words. "Really, he owns a couple of hotels in Tahiti," she said.
"I'd like to meet him," said Tim. "He sounds like a delightful character."
"He's the only family I have," she said, softly. "I miss not having him close by anymore. I wish I had more family."
"Family is a good thing to have," Tim agreed. "I'll be so glad when Sarah is in school here. Even if she can be trying."
"I'm sure she's delightful. Like her brother," Erin said slyly, and zoomed in for a kiss.
- - - - -
Almost five months after they'd been going out, Tim met Erin one fine May Saturday in a park. They were going to have a picnic lunch; a brief one, for Tim's team had to work that afternoon. Erin's face was a mass of pain, as if from falling asleep in the sun with no sun block on.
"What's wrong?" Tim asked, taking the cooler with sodas out of his car.
"Noth—oh, Tim; I'm pregnant!"
"Oh, boy," he said, sitting down hard. "Oh, boy."
"It might be a girl," she said feebly, and started to cry.
He drew her close. "You're not alone in this," he said. "I had a hand in it—er, well, you know what I mean. What are you planning to do?" He offered her a tissue.
"I don't know. I'm not going to abort it; I could never do that. But I don't think I can raise a child on my own. I guess I'll give it up for adoption."
Tim looked at her teary face, and reflected on all the wonderful, happy moments they'd had together these last few months. These were the types of moments he'd once hoped he'd have with Abby, but of course they'd never gotten close to this point. He didn't want this blissful happiness to end.
"There's another solution," he heard himself say. "You don't want to raise a child alone. So let's get married."
She stopped sniffling and stared at him. "Are—are you sure, Tim? Marriage is such a big step."
"So's having a baby, I'm told. Let's put the horse back before the cart and get married before our little Ignatz is born. We can shop for baby things together."
She threw her arms around him and kissed him and kissed him. He almost forgot that he was required to get into the office that afternoon.
- - - - -
They would marry in six week's time, they decided. They were upfront with everyone about the pregnancy, and were happy to find most of their friends okay with it. "It's been going on for a long time," said Gibbs. Tim's parents were ecstatic to hear that they would be grandparents.
Two weeks after the proposal, Tim and Erin took a few days off work to fly to North Dakota so that Tim's family could meet Erin. Kale and Cleo McGee welcomed their soon-to-be daughter-in-law with open arms, seeing in her the same warm friendliness that Tim had seen.
When Tim and Erin volunteered to wash the dinner dishes, his parents surveyed them from the back patio. "Nice girl," said Kale. "She'll be good for Tim."
Cleo turned a scientist's eye on the young woman, visible in the kitchen window. "Tim said they were using protection. Do you really think something 'went wrong', as Erin said?"
Kale snorted. "No, I think everything went just according to her plan. A hasty marriage may not be the best way to start out, but they do seem to love each other."
"And being loved matters a great deal. I think Tim's found his dream girl. " Cleo patted her husband's hand. "May they grow old and happy together, just like us. "
He tickled her. "Who are you calling old, Mrs. McGee? "
Only Sarah, age 16, didn't fall in love with Erin. Within an hour after Tim and Erin had arrived, she pulled Tim aside. "Whatever happened to that Abby you were always going on about?!" she demanded. "She sounded so cool! I was hoping you would marry her!"
"Abby and I split up months ago, Sarah. I told you that," Tim said, his patience straining. "She's out of the picture. I'm marrying Erin, and you'll soon be an aunt! Aren't you looking forward to that?"
"No! Babies stink. All they do is eat, poop and sleep. Give me 5-year-olds anyday. They're fun."
Tim rolled his eyes. "Well, fly into Washington early for the wedding, and I'll take you around to the colleges you're interested in."
She was silent for a moment. "I've changed my mind," she said. "I don't want to go to D.C. for college."
"What?? That's all you've talked about for the last two years!"
"I know, I know…but my advisor told me about a scholarship to a university in England. A scholarship for English majors, Tim! It would be awesome if I got that! England!!"
"Yeah, it would be," Tim said, forcing a smile. He'd always assumed that Sarah really would be going to college in Washington. It was hard to think of this not happening.
And a part of him knew that her sudden decision was based in a small part, on a dislike of Erin.
- - - - -
They went house hunting. Both of them lived in apartments that were really too small for one person with a growing book collection; two people would never fit. A baby, if added, would have to sleep in the hallway. With monetary help from Tim's parents and Erin's Uncle Jack, they found a small fixer-up house in Virginia that would suit them.
Kate helped Erin organize the wedding, since Erin had no mother or aunt to do so. Tim was suitably appalled by all the details that went into even a small wedding, and was completely willing to stay out of the way when the women asked him to. The task they gave him was to show up at the wedding. Tony, they roped into seeing that Tim did so, and did so suitably dressed.
It would be a small, quiet wedding. Neither Tim nor Erin had large numbers of friends, and there was also the cost to think of. Every dollar spent on the wedding was a dollar they'd wish they had when the baby was born. Babies, they'd already read, cost a lot to maintain. The budget Erin worked out eliminated almost out eating out, entertainment, and most new clothes. Library cards would have to substitute for book store purchases, and both of their clunking cars would have to last longer.
Uncle Jack was unable to get away from his business for the wedding--though he did do a video call to them to wish them well. His gift to them was a honeymoon in the Bahamas, at a property he owned there—in the honeymoon suite, and first-class airfare.
A week after the wedding, just as Tim and Erin had returned from the Bahamas, Kate was dead.
Tim and Erin were numb. Erin cried non-stop for having lost one of the best female friends she'd ever had. She clung to Tim daily, and begged him to be careful at work—for her sake, and the baby's.
- - - - -
A new woman was assigned to the team about a month after Kate was killed. Her name was Ziva David and she was Israeli; a Mossad officer on a liaison program. She seemed a little standoffish to the team, but on her first day, a smile crossed her face when she saw the wedding photo of Tim and Erin on his desk. "Your wife?"
"Yes. Erin's her name."
"Aaron? But that is a man's name, yes?"
Tim smiled. "No, it's spelled E-R-I-N."
"Ah! She is from Ireland, then. Does she speak Gaelic?"
"Ah, no. And she was born in Kansas. 'Erin' isn't an uncommon name for a woman."
"I see. I apologize. I have so much to learn about your culture, Agent McGee. Have you any children?"
"We're expecting our first in early December."
"You must let me babysit sometimes."
"We'll do that," Tim grinned. Maybe here would be a friend who could take Kate's place in Erin's heart.
- - - - -
Scott Rohan McGee was born a little prematurely on November 28; weighing in at 7 lbs. 2 oz. He had no hair to speak of and a lusty yell. His proud parents loved him right from the start. Not content with just seeing pictures, Tim's coworkers demanded that the baby be presented before NCIS at the earliest opportunity.
One mild, sunny day found Erin, still on maternity leave from her job with the DoD, coming to NCIS with a stroller and a small baby inside. Little Scott was a hit with everyone who crossed his path; Ziva, the new Director, Jenny Shepard, and her secretary, Cynthia, all spent a lot of time cuddling the babe, who was pleased to soak up the attention. Even Gibbs got to snuggle with the child, amazing most of the group with his skill at it.
- - - - -
Within seven months of Scott's birth, Erin was pregnant again. "It takes two to tango, Timothy McGee," she said, waggling a finger at him. He was pleased, of course, though they were just getting used to having Scott sleep through the night. Their budget was tight, though, and he worried what having another child would do to it. There must be some way I can make more money…
He'd always wanted to be a writer. Maybe, just maybe, he could write some mystery novels like those he loved to read. An extra 20,000 a year would do wonders for their budget.
"No, Tim. You can't buy a typewriter," Erin said when he broached the subject. "We can't afford it." Scott fussed on her shoulder, having a little cold.
"Sometimes you need to spend money to make money," Tim pressed. "I can be a writer, I know I can. And that could help us out greatly."
"I agree. But you don't need a typewriter to write, Tim. You have a computer. More than one." She looked at his geek collection wryly. "Almost all writers write on computers nowadays. Join the 21st century."
"It's not the same," he groused, while knowing he couldn't win. A couple hundred dollars for a lovely manual typewriter was an unrealistic luxury when he could do the work on the computer. But it won't be the same. It won't be like the hard-boiled writers of old churning out novels and pulps…
A baby in a household is a center of attention, and so Tim found writing time scarce. Not only that, but when it came to writing his crime novel, he found characterization hard. Every time he tried to delve into the minds of his LE agency characters, something at home interrupted him. But finally his novel was finished, and he sent it off to the first publisher on the list he'd compiled.
The rejection slips came in thick and fast. The tenth one was a godsend, in a way. That editor had actually taken the time to give good criticism. He read his note over and over.
I can tell you know your law enforcement. Good! That may help you down the road. But your characters don't jump off the page the way they should. I get the feeling something's holding you back. Distractions? Are you a family man with young children running around? I hear that often from new, young writers. My suggestion is: write what you know; what you see in front of you every day. Write about being a husband, a father. There's always a market for people who write about what they know. If you decide to go that route, contact me. I know people who are looking for material like that.
Write what I know?? Tim was first angry. Law enforcement was what he knew! Still, he had to admit that maybe he should try something different.
Neil Eamon McGee was born on March 30, the day that Tim received notice that his light-hearted novel, The Cop Father, was going to be published. A check for 20,000, an advance on the final copy, would come as soon as he returned the contract.
Writer Tim McGee was on his way.