Down in the Deep
Own nothing of Bellesario's. A simple challenge written purely for enjoyment. Thank you, Moonlight1234 for the dare; thank you Minarrett for proofing this!
Timothy Magee took in the cleared off desk one last time. He wasn't one to avoid vacations however this would be the longest one for him yet, and he hadn't told anyone, except Gibbs, where he was going. He looked up at the sound of soft footfalls to his left.
"Afraid things will not be in the same pristine order, Timothy," Ducky Mallard asked, hands in his pockets like his young friend.
Tim smiled. Ducky was one of the main reasons why he enjoyed coming to work each day. If he were to name a 'favorite uncle,' it would be the good doctor. "Not exactly. I'm sure Tony will find a way to prank me upon return. I'm just hoping I'm not forgetting anything, that's all."
Ducky chuckled. "My good boy, the key thing to remember is – 'have a good time.' You never did say where you were going this time around. Passport required?"
Tim shook his head, then looked around to be sure that no one else was in earshot. "Not unless I decide to go to Vancouver. Just some sightseeing research in Seattle. Nothing serious."
"As holidays should be. I hope you packed your galoshes."
"I did, along with the rest of the 'required attire' for that region. Maybe I'll be lucky and it'll be sunny." He turned the lamp off at his desk, and then fell into step with Ducky as they made their way to the elevators.
"You will send me a postcard or two," Ducky asked as they made their way to their respective cars.
"Of course. If it wasn't for the time difference, I'd call in, too."
Ducky's eyes lit up. "Splendid idea. Don't fret about the hour; I'll probably be up regardless."
"Oh, no, Ducky-." He blushed, knowing the concern wasn't of overly protective parent but of caring friend.
"I'm serious," the Scotsman said, slapping Tim on the back. "We'll call it 'Friday phone day.' And I promise not to share any details of work, nor tell your adventures to the others. You're researching another book, I suppose? Don't tell me, not yet anyway. I can give you a lift to the airport tomorrow."
Tim waited until Ducky was secure in his car. "Thanks, Ducky, but Gibbs insisted on delivering me." He paused before joking, "Should I worry?"
Ducky's laughter rose with the revving of the engine before he drove off.
"Ducky gave you 'instructions,' I suppose," Gibbs said as he grabbed Tim's bag from the trunk of the car. The young man nodded. "Well, that goes double from me. I expect to meet you here, refreshed, relaxed and ready to go upon return. If Tony or Ziva try to call you, ignore them."
"Yes, Boss," he said.
"You're off duty; no 'boss.' Just be safe, all right, Tim?" Gibbs removed a small journal and a silver twist-barrel pen from his inside coat pocket and handed it over. "That should get you by if the power on your laptop goes, or you do decide on some proper exploration."
The young man smiled. "Thanks, Boss." He stammered. "I mean-." Tim wasn't about to break Rule Number Six now. "Thanks."
Gibbs smiled. "Just because D.B. Cooper vanished out that way, maybe thanks to Ted Bundy, doesn't mean you get to. Got it?"
Tim nodded, feeling the weight of the routine, the regulation backpack and everything else slip away. What could go wrong?