Timothy McGee had made some incredibly stupid decisions in his life.
Buying car insurance online.
Internet dating.
Speed dating.
Speed dating over the internet.
Vista. Strike that. Ever making the switch from a Mac to windows.
Yet, all of these paled in the face of the idiocy he was about to engage in. His past mistakes certainly had never held the possibility of death.
In contrast, the only uncertainty in this mission was whether he would be tortured before being killed.
How the hell had he been talked into this?
"Hey McGee!" The voice which had talked him into this squealed into his earpiece. "Are you ready?"
"No Abby, I'm not ready. Not even close. Why are we even doing this? Why do we care?" He whined. There was a pause.
"Timmy, you're on the awning of the restaurant, Tony And Ziva are three feet to the right. It's a bit too late to be asking silly questions like that. Just do what I told you and you'll be done before you can say 'Oh God they see me I'm gonna die'."
"That's really reassuring."
"I know! It's piece of cake."
"If it's so easy why don't you come out and do it." He muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought. Now get to work soldier."
McGee could almost hear her salute. He heaved a sigh and went to work.
The plan was relatively simple. The objective was to find out what was going on between Tony and Ziva.
For the past week, both of their moods had been wildly unpredictable. One moment they were barely speaking to each other, the next they were at each other's throats. They would share significant glances when they thought the rest of the team wasn't watching and all of their normal small talk and jibes had obvious undertones.
McGee had adopted a 'live and let live' policy towards the change in his companions relationship.
If Gibbs noticed, he didn't acknowledge it. Their work was unaffected. He probably was letting them work it own on thier own.
Ducky seemed to follow Gibbs' lead.
That however, left Abby.
Her insatiable curiosity had eventually led to a very unhappy McGee a top a very unstable roof awning.
Their method was simple. McGee would slice through the awning and lower down a small microphone over the pair in an effort to eavesdrop on their personal conversation.
McGee slowly unsheathed his knife, ironically one Abby had liberated from Ziva's desk, and cut a slit a few inches in length in the tough canvas.
He reached for the microphone, but hesitated.
"Abby," He whispered, "Do I really have to do this? I mean, I think Tony and Ziva are finally beginning to think of me as an equal."
"And?..."
"And I just think it would be a shame for me to die right now. Right after I start earning respect."
"...Just lower down the microphone Tim."
McGee silently shook his head and carefully threaded the head through the opening. As he watched wire disappear, he once again wondered how in the world Abby had gotten ahold of this.
It was one of the more high tech models used for surveillance by many federal agencies, among them the CIA, FBI, and good old Naval Criminal Investigative Service. From what he had heard, they were nearly impossible to get, even for approved missions.
When he had questioned her, all Abby had said was that a guy at the requisition desk owed her a favor.
He hadn't delved in to much after that, mainly because he didn't think he wanted to know the answer.
"STOP!" Abby shouted.
McGee froze.
"What?" He hissed.
"I'm getting something. Just a little more....got it!"
McGee listened intently as the previously indistinguishable murmur of voices gradually resolved into the familiar voices of Tony and Ziva.
McGee shifted his weight into a more stable position, oblivious of the soft sound of ripping fabric.