McGee woke to the incessant ringing of the phone on the night stand. He rolled over and drew the covers further up to his face, hoping Abby would get it.
"Abby" he sleepily murmured, "the phone…"
No reaction from her. Meaning the phone kept ringing. "Abby…"
But the ringing didn't stop. Only then did he open his eyes and sat up. "Dammit Abby, you could at least…" His eyes widened at the sight of the empty bed next to him. His eyebrows crunched together, he reached for the phone absent-mindedly.
"What?"
"What? Is that the proper way to answer the phone McHello?" Tony. Who else.
McGee rolled out of bed and stared at the clock next to his bed.
"Tony, it's 06.30 and you're on vacation. So what... Oh my God, nothing happened, did it?"
"No, McMotherhen, everything's fine. Just peachy." He sounded spiteful, sardonic even.
McGee scratched his head as he searched his bedroom for his sweat pants with his eyes.
"So Tony…" he said distractedly, "why are you calling at… uh… 06.30? On your 'perfect' vacation to the Bahamas?" He tugged his sweats out from under a pile of Abby's clothes. Did she have to just leave everything lying around?
"Are you even listening McGee? What are you doing?"
McGee desperately tried to put the sweats on with just one hand, failing miserably. He hopped around on one foot, the other caught in the waist band, as he suddenly stepped on something sharp. "Aah ow, dammit!"
"Hey Probie, what the heck are you doing over there. You better not have kinky sex with Abby at the moment."
The younger agent ignored Tony for the moment as flailed around helplessly, falling back onto the bed with a loud groan. There he finally managed to put both legs trough the respective parts of his sweat pants, rubbing one foot carefully. What the hell had he stepped on? A needle?
"No Tony, I'm not having sex at the moment. What the hell is wrong with you? Did Ziva throw you out again? I wonder how she can bear up with you sometimes…"
"I wonder how I can bear up with *her*, Probie. I swear this woman is unbelievable!"
McGee snorted as he leaned down to search the floor. The reason for this phone call suddenly became self-explaining.
"I take it it's not all going according to your plan?"
"She's driving me nuts here, McProbie!"
"Uhuh." McGee crawled onto all fours to look under the bed more closely. The offending item could have been kicked there during his fight for his foot.
"I mean it. She's impossible."
There the little bugger was. A Lego brick. Tim took it between his fingers and eyed it suspiciously. "Yeah sure, Tony. What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything! Why does everybody assume it's me who's done something?!"
He paused and tried to decide whether he wanted to go for 'sympathetic' or 'mocking'. Well, this was Tony, so to hell with it. "Because it usually is."
"This could be the exception for all you know."
Could be. But unlikely, seeing Tony's talent for sticking his foot in is mouth. "I somehow doubt that, Tony. Why don't you tell me what happened?" He sat down in the bed again, careful not to lose the Lego brick.
It was silent for a moment on the other end and Tim could hear the waves. Wait. Waves?
"Tony, where are you?"
"Outside on the beach. I'm taking a walk. A long one. A few hours long actually."
"A few hours? What are you going to do on the beach for a few hours?"
"Don't know. But I tell you the women here are *hot*, McGee. Really hot."
Wait. McGee couldn't get distracted now. "Tony what about *your* hot woman?"
"Phht… She's not *my* hot woman, McHusband. And apparently she doesn't want to be."
Tony suddenly sounded defeated and not at all angry anymore. This could only mean what Tim thought it meant. Ziva had said no again. "Man, Tony, I'm sorry."
He could hear Tony sighing loudly on the other side of the phone. And talking about it seemed to bring back his anger.
"I just don't get it. I fucking proposed in Hebrew. In *Hebrew*, McGoo. Do you have any idea how hard it was to learn fucking Hebrew. And converting to Judaism? I tell you I was ready to give up on my loving catholic God, but that's not going to happen anymore. This party is so over. She can scratch that. And Ben, Ben is going to attend a Catholic school, I'll make sure of that."
"Okay Tony, calm down. She doesn't even now you are planning to convert."
"Were planning, Probie, *were* planning!"
McGee scratched his face. He really needed to shave again. Normally Abby told him to shave. Where was she anyway?
"So what's going to happen now? I mean, you're on vacation together. You can't just ignore her like you usually do when you're in DC."
"Well, two options, really. Or maybe three. First one, she'll come looking for me by noon, but she'll send Ben ahead to soften me up. Second option involves some pretty good make-up and apologizing sex on the beach. And the final and most likely one: She'll let me sulk and pretend nothing happened."
How had he not noticed Abby getting out of bed? Why had she gotten out of bed in the first place? On any other Sunday she'd wake him up with small kisses-
"Are you even listening, Probie?"
"Eh, yeah, sure."
"Probie I have to go, I think I can see her on the back porch of our house. Have to pretend to be far away…"
"Yeah, good luck with-" But the line had already went dead.
Tim put the phone down and went in search of Abby.
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He found her in the backyard together with Maddie.
"Daddy! Finally, you're up!! We've waited *ages* for you!" Maddie ran towards him, still dressed in her yellow pyjamas together with her red rubber boots. He caught her mid-stride and lifted her up to press a kiss to her cheek.
"What are you doing out here?"
"We are sowing flowers, Daddy" she looked at him with a 'd'uh' expression. As if they would be doing anything else early on a Sunday morning.
McGee let Maddie down again and followed her over the Abby, who was sitting in the grass in front of her so deemed flower bed. He bent down to press his lips to hers in a quick morning kiss.
"Morning, sweetie."
Abby smiled at him and offered her hands to be pulled up. McGee dutifully obliged.
"Morning" Abby murmured as she kissed him again, her hands on his cheeks. "You need to shave, Tim." She sternly told him, before she turned around to Maddie again and drew her near, both inspecting the flower bed.
Tim took a better look at Abby. She was wearing one of his sweat pants, now dirty from the grass and potting soil and an old, washed out t-shirt. Instead of her trade-mark pigtails, Abby had tied her hair into a hasty pony tail. And he found he didn't even care. He loved it when she dressed up, he liked her in her every day attire, but dressed like this? So sluggishly? Since when did he not care anymore what is wife dressed like? Looked like even?
He tried to think back to the last time her attire had caught his attention, but he just couldn't think about it.
"Hey, you coming?" Abby called. He was so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed them steering back into the house.
"Daddy, come on. You have to make breakki-fast!"
McGee trotted into the kitchen. Maddie sat on one of the bar stools at the counter, waiting impatiently, while Abby fixed them coffee. Both adults moved around the kitchen totally in-sync. Abby got the dishes, handed McGee the milk and eggs out of the fridge, while he mixed together the pancake dough. Abby put on the stove just as Tim dropped the butter into the frying pan and hold out her hand for the egg whisk as she passed him, just as he was finished with it.
Tim was impressed. Really, he was. He had never thought about it, until today, but they anticipated each other's moves perfectly. Anticipated or knew out of habit. It was scaring. He remembered a time when they couldn't move past each other without at least the slightest touch or kiss, resulting in a burned or overcooked or forgotten meal more often than not.
"I almost forgot, Tony called."
Maddie's head instantly shot up from her drawing. "Are they coming back? Are they coming back?"
Abby gave her daughter a look. "Sweetie, you know they won't be back for another few days." She gestured to the countdown calendar on the door of the fridge.
"Actually" Tim interrupted, "they might be back sooner."
Abby's eyes grew wide. "Oh my God, nothing happened, did it?"
"Well, apparently Ziva said no again."
Abby lowered her head in defeat as she passed Maddie a glass of milk. "I can't believe it. Why did she do that again? She told me last time would be the last."
"Wait a moment" Tim turned fully to her. "You talked to her about it?"
"Of course, Tim" She looked at him with her own version of the 'd'uh' expression. "Watch the pancakes. Of course we talked about it. She was totally down after Tony accused her of not being serious about them the last time he proposed!" Abby sounded exasperated.
"Well how could he not?" Tim defended his friend.
"They have a kid together, McGee, how serious can it get after that?"
"Promising to spend the rest of your life with another person perhaps? Tying yourself to each other?!"
Abby threw her hands in the air. "Tying? Is that how you feel about it? Tied up?"
Whoa. Were they fighting? Se had called him 'McGee', so they definitely were fighting. He took a deep breath as he tried to back-pedal. Fast. "What? No, Abby! I was not the one needing persuasion back then!"
"McGee, I think this is not a conversation we should have in front of Maddie."
She was right. He faced his daughter, outwardly calm and composed. Maddie watched them with big eyes. "Maddie, breakfast might take a while. Why don't you play in your room for a while."
The little girl shook her head. It was clear she didn't want to miss out on the action.
"Maddie" McGee voice had a warning sound in it.
"But Daddy-" her plea was interrupted by McGee's rising eyebrows. She knew not to argue with him when he asked something of her. Reluctantly she slid down from the stool and grudgingly made her way to the doorway. Abby stroked over her hair in passing.
"Could you stop doing that?" McGee cried exasperated.
"Doing what?" Abby grew defensive.
"Stroke her head like that when I tell her to do something. This whole good parent bad parent thing. Why do I always have to be the bad one?"
"That's is so totally not true, Tim!"
"Please Abby. When she tried to dye her clothes in the bathtub and we had to practically re-tile the bathroom last month? I had to be the one giving her a lecture, while you got her new clothes!"
Abby stood there speechless. Is that what he truly thought?
Tim took a deep breath, his voice much calmer now. "I get that you don't want her to be angry at you, Abby, I really do. But making me the bad guy here is not fair." He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. "Maybe Ziva is right not to want to get married" he murmured as he left the kitchen.