Chapter Three: We Are Family
Thursday morning Tim went early to the gym and found that the session on Monday had loosened everyone up. He had no trouble finding people to spar with. Once the workday started, Tim contentedly weathered Gibbs' stoic silence and enjoyed continuing his decorating discussion with Ziva.
Tony remained unaccountably quiet as he listened to his teammates talk about hue and lighting. Gibbs wasn't yelling at Tim at least, but when Tim and Ziva's conversation went on too long, one glance from their leader was all it took to silence them.
The squad room grew so quiet in fact, that one of Balboa's team darted through, using the area as a shortcut to the elevator. He jumped when he was halfway across their workspace with four sets of eyes on him.
"Sorry! I thought you guys were out on a case!" The man squeaked and nearly ran the rest of the way.
Cold cases remained that way, and the team went home at 1800.
Tim took advantage of the extra time at home to make elaborate chicken nachos, which earned him an appreciative nod from Gibbs, a rarity when Tim cooked anything other than beef.
When Tim's phone buzzed as he and Gibbs sat on the couch reading, he was surprised to see it was Sarah. He showed the picture on the screen to the older man, who set his book down to listen to Tim's side of the conversation.
"Hi," he answered.
"Hi."
Tim waited, needing for her to take the lead. After all, she'd been the one who cut their previous conversation rudely short.
"They're fumigating my apartment this weekend."
"Okay," a perverse stubborn streak kept Tim from further comment.
"Um, can I use your apartment? I know you're not staying there..."
"You can't stay at the apartment. You can stay here. At our house. We have a guest room. It's a bit bare right now, but Ziva and I are redecorating it on Saturday. You don't mind if we take some measurements while you're here-"
"I'll do 'em," Gibbs interrupted.
"Hang on. What?"
"If she stays with us, she won't want you in there on Saturday morning. I'll get your measurements tonight."
"Oh. Um, okay. So are you gonna come tomorrow night? We can have dinner together."
"I... I don't mind making a bed on the floor at your old place..."
"Nope. There's nothing left there, Sarah, not even dishes or a microwave. This is where I live now, so if you're going to stay with me, it's going to be here," Tim waited, biting his lip nervously, the tell belying his confident tone of voice. After a long pause, his sister huffed out a sigh.
"Fine. Text me the address. I'll be there at seven."
"Good. I'll see you then. I'm glad you called."
"Yeah."
They disconnected and Tim sat and stared across the room for a long minute.
"Well, we'll have our first guest for the guest room," Tim said. Gibbs rubbed his back.
"It'll be okay."
Tim and Gibbs discussed the color choices for the guest room at length after that, with Tim insisting Gibbs express his opinion rather than just shrug. The younger man was beginning to get upset, and Gibbs took him by the arms and looked hard into his eyes.
"Tim, this is your project. I'll be happy with anything you do in there because you did it. This is your home, too, babe. Do whatever you like."
"I think I like the sage green for the walls, and maybe cream and peach for accents in the bedding and window coverings," Tim said. "But there was this one wallpaper that had all three, kind of old-fashioned, and I've never put up wallpaper and if you don't like it—"
"Babe, I'll help you do the work. And old-fashioned is fine by me. It'll be good for the people who come visit."
Tim thought about what Gibbs must have meant by his last comment about the guest room later and swallowed hard to realize he had been talking about Jackson Gibbs. The thought of telling Gibbs' father made Tim consider telling his own dad, and that made his gut twist. He quickly turned his thoughts on to other things.
~~~NCIS~~~
Their quiet streak at the office continued, and Tim gladly went home to make last minute preparations for his sister's arrival.
Sarah arrived promptly. She had a large suitcase and two more bags, but Tim refrained from giving her a hard time for overpacking for two days, not wanting to start out the weekend with a fight. He just carried it all up to the guest room. They'd cleared the boxes out and cleaned, but other than the bed, a nightstand, and one of Tim's old desks, replaced by the beautiful piece that Gibbs had made for him, there wasn't anything else in there.
"Man, you weren't kidding!" She said, looking at the scuffed, bare white walls and faded ivory sheers.
"I'll show you the possibilities and you can tell me what colors you think would work in here. Ziva and I are going shopping tomorrow." Tim's voice was a little hesitant and almost shy, but he didn't stammer at all, which she noticed. He'd changed into jeans but had a lavender button down shirt on, and she had to admit that with all the weight he'd lost, he looked really good.
Dinner was quiet, Gibbs reverting to his functional mute persona, but Tim didn't mind. He definitely didn't want to fight with Sarah, and he hoped that if she saw them together, happy, in their home, she might chill out about the age gap. She did help clean up, then pleaded the need to study and went up to her room.
The next morning, Sarah came downstairs in running tights and a Waverly sweatshirt, and took Tim up on the offer to accompany her on her run. He let her set the pace, though she rolled her eyes when she noticed and sped up. He smiled inwardly but still kept up with ease. She glared when they dropped to a walk for a cool-down a few blocks from the house and he wasn't even winded.
"You're in better shape than you let on," she accused. Her own breath took a block to slow.
"I'm a cop, Sarah. When I have to chase suspects. I had better be able to catch them, or I wouldn't be worth having in the field with my team."
She snorted and they went indoors to stretch, the fall air having an unpleasant bite to it. He felt her watching and could tell she was impressed with his flexibility as well when he dropped his forehead to his thighs, wrapping his arms around behind his knees. He tried not to chuckle, knowing that he kept limber more for sex than work.
"Huh. I'm gonna shower," Sarah said, heading back upstairs. Tim unfolded from his stretch and joined Gibbs in the kitchen. He poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter beside the older man. From the level in the pot, he knew Gibbs had had two cups already and so was safe to engage in conversation. In fact, Gibbs himself broke the silence.
"Do you think it'll occur to her that you regularly have your knees up by your ears in bed?"
Tim choked on his coffee, narrowly avoiding a spit-take. He set the mug down and laughed into the hand-towel Gibbs held out, wiping his chin.
"No, I figure if she thinks about it at all she probably figures all gay sex is doggy style."
Tim got out the waffle iron and started mixing batter. Gibbs set his mug down and enveloped him from behind, bumping his hips against Tim's ass. Tim paused in his whisking and wriggled back against him, enjoying the playfulness Gibbs exhibited.
Planting a kiss on the back of Tim's neck, Gibbs released him and resumed his casual pose against the sink, sipping his coffee.
By the time Sarah came back down, Tim had hot sauce, brown sugar, and green olives out on the counter for waffle toppings for her, and he was sitting alone at the table eating his own with more traditional butter and syrup and a side of sausage.
"Where's your boyfriend?" She asked. He bit back a frustrated reply. He wasn't sure why that term grated on him as badly as it did.
"Gibbs is downstairs. He's working on a bookcase to go in my office. Did you see the amazing desk he made me?"
"It looks kinda weird. Why's it so long?"
"The roll top has my typewriter under it, and the other end is for writing or working on my laptop or whatever."
"Oh. That's kind of cool. Are you working on anything?" She brought her plate in, and in typical little sister fashion, didn't thank him for catering to her bizarre food tastes. He inwardly rolled his eyes.
"New book. The team is on a case on a ghost ship that sinks and leaves them stranded in a Zodiak at sea."
"End up on a desert island?"
"Uh-huh. Tibbs' boat-building knowledge will come into play, I think."
Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Kinda far-fetched, but I guess it's fiction, so you can do whatever you want."
Tim hid his amusement, thinking of the case the idea had been drawn from. She probably would scoff at the theatrics even more if he said the Navy had blown the ship up deliberately, but that was exactly what had happened, leaving them in a small Russian craft. Gibbs' abilities truly had come in handy in getting them home, as well.
"I'm still in the research stage, so it's a ways out. We'll see how it goes," Tim said, finishing up his last bite. "Did you leave any hot water?"
"Some, probably," she said primly. Tim laughed and kissed her on the top of her head as he took his dishes to the kitchen.
"Ziva will be here in half an hour, so I've gotta get ready. Any opinion on the color chips I left in there?"
She shrugged. "The green, I guess. But are you really gonna use pink, too?"
"Yeah, I love the combination. There's a wallpaper I'm considering that has those on a cream background."
"That might be better than all green walls," she called as he mounted the stairs.
"Yeah, I'm leaning that way," he said loudly, then clumped harder down the hall to let her know he was done with the conversation. He showered and shaved, then picked out a forest green shirt to go with his jeans. He thought he was definitely going to look good with one of his leather jackets and he hummed as he jogged lightly down the stairs.
Sarah was still sitting at the table and she looked over as he breezed by. He grabbed his purse and brought it back and set it on the table, transferring keys and wallet into it, checking his comb and breath spray were still inside. He pulled a couple of receipts that were floating loosely within and entered them into his budget app on his phone before throwing them out. His sister watched him.
"You do look...good. Happy," she said, sounding begrudging.
"Thanks, Sarah. I am. Really happy. I'll see you later, okay?" He put the strap over his head and slung his bag back before he headed down to let Gibbs know Ziva would be there soon and they'd be leaving after he showed her the master bedroom to get her opinion on a new chair he was considering buying.
Ziva followed Tim up the stairs after she arrived. Sarah had retreated to the guest room, and Ziva didn't comment on Tim's sister seeming to avoid her. They had discussed the color plan over lunch at work, but Tim wanted to show her the chair in the master bedroom so she could help him work out what fabric it could be re-covered in if he decided not to buy the new one. That was his excuse to revisit the colors in their room so he'd be able to casually suggest getting a couple of extra throw blankets for the bed. She looked around in keen curiosity, only having been upstairs when she and Tony had helped Tim move in and earlier in the week when he'd showed her the guest room.
The door to the tiny bedroom next to the master was partway open. It had been firmly shut the whole time they had schlepped boxes inside, and she paused to peek. The walls were a soft peach color, but the room was filled with boxes stacked haphazardly. She thought she saw a petite white dresser buried under a dusty pile. Hurrying to catch up to Tim, she recognized that the room must have been Gibbs' daughter's. She found it sad that the little girl's furniture remained, shrouded in disused cast-offs.
They chatted about the colors as they made their way back downstairs and outside. Tim tried to walk to his own car, but Ziva stopped him with a glare.
"It is my turn to drive," she insisted. Tim resisted the urge to dramatically cross himself as she started the car and pulled out.
~~~NCIS~~~
Gibbs came upstairs around lunchtime and made a sandwich. Sarah was in the living room, sitting on the couch reading.
"Hey. You want something to eat?" He offered. She declined but wandered over to where he sat at the table when he was almost through with his lunch.
"I'm sure Tim told you what I said," she started. He hadn't, but Gibbs let her continue without revealing that. "I want you to know it's not you, exactly. It just... It's the age thing, and working as well as living together..."
He finished his last bite before he responded.
"Bad idea. Bad timing, bad professionally..." He admitted.
"I expected you to defend it."
"I know it's not ideal, Sarah."
"How do you guys even have anything in common? You're disco, he's techno. You're analog, he's digital. Your cultural references are all wrong!"
"Because of our ages?"
"Yeah! I dated a guy who was seventeen years older than me. He didn't get my point of view on... Anything."
Gibbs paused, organizing how to explain things to a girl who was so stubborn and immature that she'd stomped out on Tim in the middle of dinner. "You're from a military family. You ever had friends who weren't?"
"Sure."
"And you had to explain stuff to them that was different from the way non-military people are."
"Of course."
"We already both speak that language."
"But—"
He gave her a look and she settled.
"Law enforcement has its own stuff that outsiders don't get, too. The hours we work together... The constant danger... Depending on each other... We have a language and a culture that you don't get because you're not part of it."
She frowned but didn't protest. He took that as a good sign.
"With it being every single day, life and death, it trumps the music we listen to, the jargon we use... All that."
He could tell she was thinking hard, so he nodded and put his plate in the sink, going back to the basement to sand the bookcase he was building. He hoped that talking to her that way would get her to ease up on Tim, but he figured he'd just have to wait and see.
Tim returned home with three throws for their bed, two in purple and one turquoise and navy, the wallpaper and linens for the guest room, and pictures of the furniture he liked. He had determined it would be better to get Gibbs' approval as well as use his truck when they actually brought larger pieces home. Besides, Tim really wanted to show Gibbs IKEA.
They didn't get to use any of the throws for their intended purpose until after Sarah had left since they had politely refrained from having sex while she was in the house, but Sunday night when she had gone back to her apartment, Gibbs grabbed Tim as soon as she was gone.
"Been wanting you all weekend, babe," he said, kissing Tim.
Tim laughed breathlessly. "Any particular reason?"
"You talking about decorating and carrying that purse... I love how girly you can be. C'mon, let's go upstairs and I can show you," Gibbs replied. Tim blushed and readily agreed.
Gibbs got Tim to help him undress then reclined on the bed. "Will you undress for me? Real slow? Maybe with music?"
Tim obediently put music on and turned the lights down. He realized as he stripped, dancing a bit between articles of clothing, that he wanted to be better at it. He made a mental note to research and practice some different dance moves.
As he tossed his boxers toward the hamper, Gibbs sat up and crawled to the end of the bed. Their kisses became aggressive, and Gibbs smirked at the placement of the new blanket beneath them. Might as well try it out, he decided.
It wasn't long before he got them rearranged so Tim was kneeling on top of the throw and Gibbs was pounding his hard cock into him.
"Yes! Yes! Oh god, Gibbs! Yes!" Tim cried. Gibbs pushed on Tim's hips so he had a better angle on Tim's sweet spot and nailed it relentlessly. "Aaahh! Ngh! Ngh! Ooohhh, yeah..."
Tim came, shuddering and whimpering, jetting copious amounts of semen onto his newest purchase. His climax, along with the long wait (for them) since they'd been together, wrought Gibbs' climax from him as well.
The older man shook and gasped at the intensity and he leaned heavily on Tim for a while before he finally pulled out and cleaned up, tossing the blanket into the laundry basket. They agreed it had worked well, then drifted contentedly to sleep.
~~~NCIS~~~
The work week passed in a whirl. Monday afternoon, they got a callout; a Petty Officer's daughter had gone missing. The call the family received at 1700 confirmed it as a kidnapping when the father of one of her friends told them his son had seen her persuaded into a blue sedan after school. The Amber alert had sparked the information, and the team went into action.
With no ransom call within the first twenty-four hours, everyone became tense. Gibbs grew frantic and began roaring at everyone, not just Tim. They all knew from long familiarity that cases with kids were difficult for their leader, but they explored every avenue and came up empty, working thirty-seven straight hours. They napped at their desks and kickstarted into motion when they got a tip from a sheriff's department in a town several hours away.
On their way in minutes, Tony and Ziva drove one sedan, and Tim rode with Gibbs. He didn't dare say anything lest he invoke Gibbs' notorious wrath, but he risked resting his hand on his lover's shoulder briefly as they got going. The tension around Gibbs' eyes eased ever so slightly, and so Tim settled in for a wildly fast ride.
When they turned off the highway toward the farmhouse they'd been directed to, Tim ventured the suggestion that they wait for Tony and Ziva's arrival for backup and cringed as Gibbs nearly ripped his head off.
Exiting the car, Gibbs started down the track. Tim took a deep breath and called him back. Fury was writ large on the older man's face and Tim felt the laser gaze all the way to his feet, but he held out the tactical vest stubbornly as he strapped on his own. Gibbs snarled but acquiesced, putting the vest on. He took the radio Tim gave him as well and they performed a quiet check.
Tim also held out his tablet with a satellite view of the farmhouse from Google maps. Gibbs took the information in and then ordered Tim to circle around back to cover any retreat.
They approached and Tim split off just before they came into sight of the house. Tim hustled through the trees and then into the overgrown fields, crouching low and moving with his weapon drawn. When he was across from the back porch, he crept forward to the edge of his cover and hunkered down in place, scanning the empty windows and the area around the house for any movement. The breeze knocked a broken clothesline with clothespins still attached against the metal frame it hung from, but that was all. He strained his hearing to listen for raised voices or the sound of a struggle. Hearing a soft yip, like a far off coyote, he cocked his head and waited for it to repeat so he could dismiss it. The next time it sounded different and he frowned. The wind died and he made out that it was someone crying. His adrenaline spiked. Maybe it was the girl!
Searching the windows for any hint of a watcher and finding none, Tim darted across the yard and flattened himself against the house beside the sagging porch. He followed the sound to the corner of the house and dared a quick look along the side. His heightened alertness brought him the sound of two male voices, calmly talking, and familiarity told him one was Gibbs. His glimpse around the corner had revealed the door to a storm cellar. He thought that was where the crying had been coming from, but the sound had ceased.
He looked again, and, seeing nothing to indicate anyone else was nearby, he crept toward the battered wooden door.
"Madeline?" He hissed, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. A whimper answered him and he took it as confirmation. There was a large, worn tire resting on top of the silvering wood of the doors, probably once a tire swing from the rope attached to one side, but now seemingly a makeshift lock keeping the child in the dark. Tim decided in an instant that getting the girl out of danger was worth the risk he'd be putting on Gibbs as he stood unknowingly talking to the kidnapper. Tim glanced at his watch and estimated that Tony and Ziva would arrive any moment.
Lifting the heavy tire, Tim then opened the door as little as he could and peered inside.
A shriek like Newt from Aliens answered the light and Tim hit his radio.
"I've got the girl!" He called to Gibbs as he let the door crash open. He carefully stepped down four steep, rickety stairs and spread his hands toward the figure who had stopped screaming and was curled in a ball in the corner, sobbing wildly. He heard a scuffle and several thumps, but he focused on the child before him.
"Madeline, I'm Tim. I'm here to take you home, honey. I work with the Navy like your Dad. You want to go see him, don't you?"
But the girl was inconsolable. Tim approached and continued to talk in a calm voice. There was a shout and more thumps from the house and he desperately wanted to go help Gibbs, but he knew his boss would much prefer he help the victim first.
"Madeline, can you look at me, sweetie? Come on now, I want to help you get out of here and go home."
A crash sounded, then silence. Tim shook his head. He needed to get the girl out and safe. If the kidnapper had bested Gibbs, then she was in grave danger and he couldn't afford to get trapped down in the cellar with her.
"I'm gonna pick you up and carry you outside. We have to go now."
He lifted her and she just curled tighter into a ball. He could feel something crusted on her clothes and he hoped for her sake it was mud or waste. But there was a metallic tinge to the stink of fear on her, and he knew she hadn't gotten through this unscathed. He climbed the steps and looked around before he made a quick dash for the nearest cover: a big tree with a frayed piece of rope dangling from one branch. The remnants of the tire swing, probably.
Movement from the dirt track in front of the house caught his attention, and Tim hit his radio. "South side; tree," he said. Tony's head turned and the SFA ran to him. Tim shoved the girl into Tony's arms. "Get her out! Gibbs was inside with the kidnapper. I have to get to him! Send Ziva in the front."
Tim ran to the house, barely keeping the wherewithal to go to the back and follow procedure by clearing rooms as he went. Of course, the case early in his career when he hadn't was a painful lesson learned, so he did it, regretting every moment it took. He heard Ziva clearing from the front and worried that she hadn't found Gibbs yet.
He moved into a side bedroom of the house and saw Gibbs standing over a man on the floor. He almost wept in relief. Gibbs didn't even look hurt. But he looked deadly furious.
"Boss? I'm gonna cuff him, okay?" Tim said, approaching even more tentatively than he had in the cellar. He heard Ziva speaking quietly to Tony over the radio and in person from the doorway.
"How's the girl?" Gibbs growled.
"Alive."
Gibbs snarled. He could read in Tim's voice that she was not unharmed.
Tim reached down and put handcuffs on the presumed kidnapper. The man's face was swelling from his encounter with Gibbs and he groaned as Tim hauled him to his feet. Ziva took him from Tim's grasp, silently understanding that Gibbs was in a volatile and dark place emotionally. She pointedly turned away and took their perp outside.
Tim warily moved closer to Gibbs. "Boss?" He said. Gibbs' lip curled. Tim shook his head. "Jethro, we got her. She survived. You can't do this to yourself," he whispered.
Gibbs' eyes flashed as he finally looked at Tim. He took a breath to condemn the younger man for crossing their boundaries but found he couldn't. Tim's words had stripped him of being Special Agent Gibbs and left him Jethro, the man who had never recovered from the devastating loss he'd suffered. Every child he worked to protect or save or avenge was somehow in part Kelly to him, and Tim understood that.
The agony in Gibbs' eyes was too much. Tim stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around him. Gibbs relaxed against him, drawing on Tim's strength, but only for a moment. Tim let him go when he straightened, his heart aching that he couldn't do more right then. But it was nothing short of miraculous that the older man had even let him do what he had, so Tim moved back, checked in with Tony and Ziva on the radio, then informed Gibbs that Madeline was on her way to the hospital and they were taking their suspect back to process him.
Gibbs remained silent through the entire drive back, and Tim let him go as he headed toward the coffee shop down the street when they pulled into the parking garage at headquarters. Inside, Tony and Ziva were at their desks. By the time Gibbs returned with his coffee, the three had a plan in place to support their boss.
Tony asked for the interrogation, with Ziva backing him up in his argument for doing so. Gibbs reluctantly agreed and he and Tim stood and watched from the observation room.
Tim subtly supported Gibbs while the man confessed to kidnapping Madeline but not to hurting her. He claimed there was an accomplice, but couldn't keep his story straight as he tried to convince Tony. Ziva prowled the room like a predator, ratcheting up the man's nerves. In typical DiNozzo style, Tony talked the man in faster and faster circles until he finally slipped up and implicated himself. Then Tony pressed him relentlessly until he was shouting his confession.
His twisted ranting, trying to justify his horrifying actions, turned Tim's stomach, and the tiniest reactions he sensed in Gibbs tore his heart. He only let the back of his hand press against where Gibbs' clenched fist hung between them, but the fact that he received a slight return pressure, and finally a nod when Tony and Ziva concluded the interrogation, was some comfort.
When they went home, Tim was able to get Gibbs to release some of the anger and pain he'd been holding inside. He offered himself and Gibbs accepted, fucking him hard and fast and letting Tim take care of his own climax by jacking off as Gibbs pounded him in furious thrusts. When they both gasped out their orgasms, Tim cleaned them up tenderly and got Gibbs to lay down in bed instead of heading to the basement to drink away his pain.
"Do you think you'll ever be able to separate these child cases from your own losses, love?" Tim asked gently. Gibbs lay in his arms and Tim stroked his back with soothing fingers.
Gibbs grunted but didn't answer. Tim bit his lip and decided to push.
"I think you need to focus on what good memories you have and let those overshadow the pain. Can we put a few pictures of them up?"
A fine tremor shook Gibbs, and Tim tightened his hold on him.
"Have you ever tried having photos where you can see them?"
"At first. Just all the stuff Shannon had up. I broke some of them; the frames and glass. I saved the photos. Took the rest down. I think they're mostly in boxes in Kelly's room."
Tim swallowed hard. "You think that maybe in a few weeks we can try that? Can we put a couple up?"
"I don't know."
"Jethro, do you understand why I'm pushing this? You've been stuck in your grief for too long. It still haunts you, and I just want you to find some kind of peace."
"Yeah, babe, I get it. Not sure... I'm an old dog, Tim."
"Every child case, you suffer. Please let me try to help you not suffer so much, sweetheart."
Gibbs was quiet for a while. "Let me think about it."
"Of course. Sleep now, Gibbs. I'm here, and I can hold you through your rest."
Gibbs' face eased into a smile at Tim's dramatic words. But they lulled him, and he was able to sleep.
~~~NCIS~~~
The team wrapped the case up by Friday, and Tim and Gibbs planned to go to the hardware store for supplies for fixing up Tim's apartment that night. An insistent knock on the front door derailed their intentions.
"Timmy! Gibbs! I have tickets for us!" Abby crowed, flashing her smart phone at them. Tim sighed inwardly and opened the door for her. He enjoyed concerts with her, but his lover wasn't one for crowds and noise, let alone Abby's preferred music.
"Come on in and tell us. But you know that Gibbs -"
"Gibbs!" She rushed past him to plead her case before the man himself. "This band is really eclectic. They play a bunch of different genres, including some folk and bluegrass. It's perfect for the three of us! It's tonight. Say you'll go. Please?"
Tim watched as Abby's pleading eyes worked their magic on Gibbs, then she turned them on him, and all his objections just fell away. When they'd agreed, Abby rushed back out, telling them what time they needed to pick her up. Tim turned to Gibbs.
"You sure?"
"We already said yes," Gibbs replied, blinking. Tim laughed and nodded.
"Bring your earplugs," Tim advised, then felt a tingle as he began to get excited. "What should I wear? I haven't been to a concert in a while. Would you mind if I wore eyeliner?"
Gibbs' heart thudded at the thought of how sexy Tim was bound to look. He grinned. "As long as you wear that shiney stuff on your lips."
Tim giggled. "You like it when I wear makeup."
"Uh-huh. One of those big, soft shirts, too. Like you wore that first night at Verse."
"And tight jeans, and those boots with the little heels..."
Gibbs groaned at the mental image Tim created. "Yeah... Oh, yeah..."
In the end, Gibbs wore a sapphire blue button down and jeans, Tim's poet shirt was a pale lilac, and he had to keep reapplying his lip gloss because Gibbs wouldn't stop kissing it off of him.
When they came to pick her up, the color in Tim's cheeks made Abby wonder if he was wearing blush, then she watched as the pink deepened with a look from Gibbs and she grinned.
"You look amazing! Timmy, I love the eye makeup! And that shirt is beautiful on you. You two are just gorgeous together! Did you buy him that shirt? The blue makes his eyes just glow!"
"He has a great wardrobe at home that he almost never wears. I try to get him out more so he can show off, but -"
"Hey! I'm right here!"
Tim and Abby laughed, and Abby bit her lip at the comfortable way the couple held hands as Gibbs drove. She had wanted to be happy for them when she'd learned they were together, but the way Gibbs treated McGee at work had worried her. Tony and Ziva had each talked with her about it, and that was part of why she'd found this concert for them to go to together. Just having Gibbs agree to go had been a win, and it gave her the chance to see how they were away from NCIS. So far, she was relieved. The looks the couple exchanged were open and affectionate, and Abby knew Gibbs well enough to understand that he was probably just overcompensating at the office. Tim had never seemed worried or concerned, and she trusted her friend.
There was a single song the group did that had any semblance of bluegrass to it, and that was early in the evening. Gibbs had put his earplugs in, and slowly drank his ten dollar beer, mostly ignoring the band and just contentedly watching Tim. The colored lights that played over the crowd hid the color of his shirt, but occasionally caught his eyes as Tim looked to Gibbs. He was nearly always grinning when he turned to check that Gibbs was still close by, sometimes grabbing his hand for a squeeze, sometimes leaning over for a quick peck. The older man watched as Tim and Abby danced and laughed and sang along with songs they knew. One particular song had Tim jumping up and down with the beat, waving his arms high, and Gibbs thought he'd never been more gorgeous. When it ended, Tim turned to meet his lover's gaze and Gibbs pulled him close for a deep kiss. When Tim broke away, gasping and laughing, Gibbs let him take a sip of his beer, and for the next song, Tim stayed close, pressing himself against his arm and side, leaning his head against the silver hair, letting his breathing slow from the energetic dancing and enjoying being with the older man. Gibbs found himself swallowing hard as emotions swelled in him. He put his hand up to Tim's flushed cheek, then slid it back to his neck and closed his eyes, savoring the moments as sound washed over them, the crowd moved around them, and they stood in their private bubble of contentment together.
Abby looked over, and her breath caught at the intimate moment she witnessed. Unable to stop herself, she snapped a picture and did a happy little jump. They were so right together; anything that happened or tried to split them up was going to meet an impenetrable wall of perfection and slide right off. Yay!
Back home, Tim was still bopping to the remembered beat as they got ready for bed, and Gibbs pulled him into a few minutes of the two-step they'd learned while Tim hummed the music. Giggling when Gibbs twirled him, Tim then turned the movements more sensual and put his arms around Gibbs' neck, rubbing his body against the other man's. Gibbs rolled with the change and ran his palms up and down Tim's back, one holding their hips tight together, the other gently holding Tim's shoulder. They gyrated, but soon lost any sense of musical rhythm as another physical demand shifted their attention.
Kissing with bruising force, they began stripping each other, suddenly desperate to be naked and when they were, they fell, entwined, onto their bed. Kissing and pawing each other, it was only minutes before Gibbs was reaching for the nightstand and the lube. He pushed Tim's knees up and drove hard into him, eliciting a howl from Tim which quickly devolved into heavy, panting moans.
"Jesus, Tim, this never gets old. I could fuck you every night for a year and still relish every moment. Oh, you feel so good. Love you..."
"Yes! Oh, yes, Gibbs! Love you! God! So good! Ah!"
Gibbs looked down at Tim, and he felt his heart overflow at the sight. Flushed, eyes still outlined and his face even more lovely than usual, Gibbs found himself grinning as he moved in the delicious heat of his lover's body.
"You're so beautiful, Tim... So beautiful... Oh! Oh! Fuck! YES!"
Tears filled Tim's eyes from the words even as he groaned at the fantastic feeling of Gibbs' orgasm pulsing inside him. He was right on the edge himself, and the pressure of Gibbs as he collapsed on top of him gave him friction to hump his hips into a few more times until he came, too.
Gibbs held Tim tenderly after, touching his face and murmuring compliments about how amazing he'd looked all night.
"Thank you, Jethro. It can be so hard to remember why you find me attractive sometimes..."
"Ah, babe," Gibbs held him closer. "Tim, I've never loved anyone the way I love you."
Tim's brow furrowed and he looked at Gibbs uncertainly. "Wait... What? Never? You... You mean it's a different kind of love from Shannon. I get it."
Gibbs choked up and as much as he wanted to correct Tim, to tell him he'd found a contentment and a centeredness with Tim that he'd never felt with his beloved wife, the words deserted him. He frowned and shook his head and kissed Tim, trying to show him the truth. It was a long while before they cleaned up, Tim removed his eye makeup, and they fell asleep snuggled close together.
Saturday morning, they rose and headed out to the apartment with a stop at the hardware store for cleaning supplies, paint, and tools. Tim blushed when Gibbs playfully admonished him not to sabotage the repairs just to win their bet. Working together all morning, they made good headway on the list of tasks.
After lunch, they split up, working in different rooms. After about an hour, Gibbs' body reacted before his conscious mind registered why his pants were suddenly too tight. He rose from where he had been replacing a damaged baseboard in the bedroom and went to watch his lover. Tim danced in place, scrubbing the wall where he'd always hidden a stain with a big coastal map.
Extreme Ways by Moby played on Tim's phone where he had it plugged into a portable speaker. It was one of the younger man's favorite songs to dance to, and Gibbs' libido had obviously recalled his first-hand experience of watching him in the bedroom of this very apartment, hips swaying, ass-shaking: sexy as hell. Even in loose, paint-splattered carpenter's pants and a faded MIT t-shirt from when Tim had been two sizes bigger, he made Gibbs bite his lip in desire.
"How am I supposed to work with you out here dancing?" Gibbs finally asked as the song ended. Tim turned to see him adjusting himself and laughed. His eyes sparkled in the brightness of the afternoon sun coming through the window, unobscured by the curtains that had once hung there. Tim sashayed over to him as the next song began, encouraging him to join him. A barked laugh and head shake made Tim roll his eyes. He moved behind Gibbs and pressed close, holding the older man's hips, moving him without his volition.
Gibbs, so new to the pleasures of bottoming, shuddered as his body again reacted. Tim seemed to sense the shift in mood and leaned in, softly kissing Gibbs' neck and tracing the line of his hair with his tongue over to his ear. Feeling the shudder, he too hardened, and he started rubbing himself against Gibbs' ass. His hand snaked around and palmed the length of Gibbs' erection and chafed lightly.
"Fuck... Tim..." Gibbs heard himself moan.
"Oh god, I love it when your voice goes all gravelly like that," Tim breathed into his ear. He drew Gibbs' shirt off and stripped his own for good measure. There was no better feeling than skin on skin with the man he loved. He deftly unfastened Gibbs' pants and reached inside to fondle him. The older man's back arched, pushing his ass against Tim, and Tim bit down hard on the juncture of his lover's neck.
"Ah!"
Tim wasn't going to wait. The responses he was getting were too arousing. He pulled Gibbs with him toward the bedroom, forgetting that his bed was gone. In the doorway he stopped as he realized. "Shit. No bed." He shook his head and shrugged. He shoved Gibbs' jeans and underwear down, then retrieved the small tube of lube he'd taken to carrying from one of his pockets before divesting himself of his own pants.
Gibbs was consciously allowing Tim to take charge. The testosterone levels in his body were nearly back to normal, but his time of battling his aggressive tendencies had given him an appreciation for Tim's more commanding side. All month, since that first time Tim had topped him, he had been fucking Tim senseless every chance he got. It was like he'd needed to re-establish his own masculinity, but now that they were in this situation, his body recalled the insane levels of pleasure he'd experienced when Tim had gently taught him, and he wanted more. He bent forward and leaned against the doorframe, shaking a little as Tim started to carefully prepare him.
Tim bit his lip at the way Gibbs offered himself. Sliding a finger in, he used his other hand to continue turning Gibbs on more. He played with his nipple, pinching and twisting, feeling how the shudders of enjoyment rippled through his body. Tim was achingly hard but determined to have Gibbs totally stretched and ready before he slid into him. Adding a second finger, he felt a slight tension in Gibbs' torso, and he moved on to begin a slow handjob, using a counterpoint with the penetrations. A long, low breath from Gibbs made him smile as he started shifting back to meet Tim's fingers and then forward into his hand. His own breath was beginning to huff in anticipation, and he wriggled his third finger into the tight entrance.
"Yes, Tim," Gibbs groaned.
"Oh, Gibbs, it's so hard to wait. Are you ready for me? I want to feel you. I want you so bad..." Tim found himself begging.
"Goddamn, Tim, yes! Fuck me. Wanna feel you..."
It was all he needed. He pushed his lubed hard-on into Gibbs, beginning to shake with the ecstatic sensation.
"Oh, god, Gibbs! Oh yes, yes!"
Gibbs discovered that as before, he liked the ache of the stretch as Tim slowly filled him. He could never imagine doing this with anyone else, but Tim could do it anytime he wanted. It felt so damned good...
Tim bent forward over Gibbs' back and tenderly started humping while he kept stroking Gibbs' cock.
"Oh, God, I love you, Gibbs. You feel so good... Oh... Yes..." Moaning, he set up a slow rhythm, reveling in the responding sounds of his lover. They were oblivious to everything but one another, until—
"Timothy!" The feminine shout, drenched in disapproval, instantly shriveled Tim's arousal and made him six years old again. He pulled out and shoved Gibbs through the doorway into the bedroom, stumbling after him and slamming the door behind them. Breathing hard, Tim closed his eyes in denial.
"Was that...your mother?" Gibbs asked in a whisper. Tim made a choking sound and nodded. The older man shook his head in disbelief. This was beyond improbable; to be caught having sex by a parent...at his age! He pulled his jeans up and fastened them, still shaking his head. He looked at Tim to find he still stood with his pants around his ankles, face dead pale, eyes squeezed shut. "Hey," Gibbs said. Tim bit his lip.
"Please please please tell me that if we stay in here she'll go away and this won't have happened. Please, god..."
Gibbs knelt down and tugged Tim's underwear and pants up, then stood and cupped his face. "Hey. Hey," he said softly. Tears slid from under Tim's eyelashes from his still closed eyes. "Look at me. Tim!" Finally, he did. The dread and shame he saw in the wide child-like stare made his heart ache. "Tim, sweetie, c'mon. Think. As crazy as this is, you've been working on how to talk to her about us. So as bad as this intro is, she knows. That part is over. It's time to face her. You knew she'd disapprove. Let's go get this done."
Tim shook his head. "I have to do this alone. But I...I'm so scared..." More tears slid down his pale cheeks and Gibbs hugged him for a moment before he pulled back and held Tim's shoulders.
"Hey," he shook him. "This is a bump. That's all. Nothing that happens now will change what we have. Not your job, or your friends, or us." Tim was still shaking his head negatively, and Gibbs frowned. "I love you." It had only been a little while since he'd said the words for the first time, and he still used them sparingly enough that they had power. Tim stopped shaking his head and searched Gibbs face. "This is just a hiccup. Don't make it more than that."
Slowly, Tim nodded. Gibbs wiped the tears from his face tenderly and kissed him. Looking around, they noted that their shirts were still in the other room. Tim shrugged to himself, grateful they at least had their pants. Sliding his hand down Tim's arm, Gibbs squeezed his fingers and continued to hold on as Tim reached for the doorknob with a deep breath.
They walked out into the empty apartment holding hands. Separating when they reached their shirts, they each silently dressed then turned to where their unexpected visitors stood. Tim took a deep breath.
"Mom, Luke, this is Jethro Gibbs. Gibbs, Patricia and Luke Endersen," Tim introduced. Gibbs nodded, the gesture returned by Tim's stepfather, who looked much closer to Tony's age than Gibbs', a fact he noted as a possible point to be made later. As he walked alone toward them, he peripherally studied the woman. Late fifties, with a darker complexion than Tim, Gibbs understood where Sarah's coloring came from. But her eyes were that beautiful aqua blue that Tim's were, made all the more dramatic with her olive skin tone. She would have been a lovely woman if not for the pinched and scowling expression she wore as she studiously did not look at Gibbs. That was okay. Gibbs' target was her husband.
"I'd hoped to meet under better circumstances, Mr Endersen, but let's go get coffee and let them talk," Gibbs said, ushering the stunned younger man out the door.
Tim stayed where he was. "I expected you on Tuesday, Mom," he began.
"Timothy!" All the disapproval and disappointment he expected filled the word, and he gritted his teeth.
"The news I wanted to share with you was that I'm in love with someone and we've moved in together. It's a nice house not too far from here. Gibbs has been a bachelor for some time, so we'll be redecorating—"
"You!" She cleared her throat from the near shriek she'd begun with. "You were sodomizing that old man!" She accused. Tim blanched at her wording, her cruel judgement.
"Mother!" He strode up to her and gave her a hard look. "You will not dishonor me or Gibbs by speaking that way. Sodomy is rape. We were having sex. Normal, male male sex."
She started, this being the first time in his life that her milk-mild son had spoken to her with such grim and final authority.
"I love you, Mom. I want you to be part of my life, but I will not accept you insulting us or our relationship. You don't have to approve, but you will treat us with respect."
She shook her head, not denying that they deserved respect, but just denying, period. "Oh, Tim. How did this happen? You were such a good boy..."
Tim sighed softly. At least she was past the dangerous fury. "Mom, I'm still a good person. I just happen to love a man. I've loved him for a long time."
"But you know it's wrong!"
"It's love. How can love ever be wrong?"
She silently shook her head again.
"Gibbs. He's your boss, isn't he?"
"Yes. We've learned to keep the two parts of our lives separate."
"Sweetheart, isn't it dangerous to your career?"
"We've talked with the Director. He agrees that if we can keep it professional, and the rest of the team still feels safe, he'll allow us to continue to work together."
"And his age? Tim, he looks older than your father."
"Not quite, Mom."
Patricia gave her own sigh then. "Oh, Tim, it was such an awful way to find out..."
"Yeah, Mom, for us, too, believe me."
He reached out, then, and she stepped into his arms for a hug. When they separated, she sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
"I'm very sorry we're early. A flight opened up and Luke juggled his schedule at work and I thought it would be a nice surprise."
"It is what it is, Mom. I hope we can enjoy the extra time together. Are you ready to properly meet Gibbs? Or do you want to -"
"Yes. I think I would very much like to spend time with the -man- who has finally accepted all the love that big heart of yours has to give," Patricia raised her chin in determination, and even with her brief hesitation over Gibbs' gender, Tim suddenly knew that everything would be okay.
"I'm sure they're at the coffee shop down the street. Gibbs practically mainlines caffeine."
They left the apartment and walked the two blocks to the shop. Tim gave Gibbs a brief nod to let him know it was going okay with his Mom and received one in return that he hoped indicated the same for he and Luke.
Having coffee and danish with his mother and her husband right after she'd walked in on him fucking Gibbs was surreal for Tim. They made awkward chitchat for a few minutes, and Tim finally noticed how dirty he and Gibbs were from the work they'd been doing.
"Do you want to come back to the house with us? We should clean up," Tim suggested.
"The house?" Patricia asked. Gibbs put his hand on top of Tim's where it rested on the edge of the table.
"Our house," Gibbs clarified. Tim bit his lip but couldn't contain the smile that the specificity and obvious declaration gave him.
They led the Endersens to the house, Gibbs grumbling as he drove slowly, careful not to lose his follower. Tim held his hand and shook his head.
Showing his mother around his new home made Tim start to hunch and get shy, reverting to childhood behavior. Gibbs watched it happen and learned just how far his lover had progressed to be the confident special agent he had become. He stepped up in support when Patricia looked confused at the colors in their bedroom.
"Tim has an amazing eye for color and design. I love what he's done in here," Gibbs stated, pressing close against Tim's back, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Tim's shoulder. He smiled innocently when Patricia's eyes widened at the statement.
The four of them talked for a few more minutes and then Tim looked pointedly at all the dirt on his and Gibbs' clothing. Patricia took the hint and led her husband out of the house and away.
Tim collapsed into Gibbs' arms as soon as Luke and his mother pulled away from the curb.
"Oh my god!" He laughed, only a little hysterically. Gibbs closed his eyes and shook his head. They compared notes on how it had gone for each of them, Gibbs with Luke and Tim with his mom.
"I guess the worst is probably past, then," Tim said.
"Are you gonna tell her you're gender fluid?" Gibbs asked in a neutral tone. As much as he loved and appreciated that about Tim, he wasn't sure Tim was ready to face his mother's reaction.
"I think I'm going to let her conclude that I'm gay and this is just how some gay men are. I don't think she's ready to face non-binary gender."
Gibbs kissed his forehead. "I think that's a good idea, babe."
Tim sighed in relief.
~~~NCIS~~~
On Sunday, Tim took his mother and stepfather to the office to give them a tour. There were always people there working, so he was able to show them a more subdued but still active environment. He grew excited when the elevator opened on the floor for Abby's lab and a wave of sound assaulted them.
"Oh my goodness," Patricia exclaimed. Tim just grinned and drew them forward. He led them in and turned down the screeching heavy metal.
"Hey!" Abby cried at the sudden volume change. She whirled and then squealed. "Timmy!" She ran to hug him. She apparently hadn't gone to church that morning since she was wearing one of her plaid school-girl mini-skirts and thigh-high white stockings. She had red bows in her pigtails and platform mary-janes on her feet. Her makeup was so dramatic he deduced that she'd probably been called in to work the previous night when she'd been out with friends. Typical Abby, not even her more extreme clubbing clothes, but when Tim turned to his mother, she looked scandalized. He swallowed a grin.
"Mom, Luke, this is Abby Scuito, one of the best forensic scientists in the country and my dear friend. Abs, my Mom, Patricia, and her husband, Luke."
Abby moved straight from hugging Tim to hugging his mom, then shaking Luke's hand.
"I'm so happy to meet you! Oh, that's where Timmy got his eyes and Sarah got her coloring! The combination is beautiful. And you did so well raising such an amazing person! He's my best friend. I wish I could spend more time talking with you, but Balboa's team need the results of the guk he pulled off the doorknob at a crime scene. I hope you have a great visit! Maybe I'll get to see you before you leave," Abby said, then vanished back to her work. Tim smiled fondly and ushered Patricia and Luke out.
"Oh! And turn my music-"
Tim drowned her out, precisely adjusting the volume back to where it had been. She blew him a kiss and he waved goodbye.
In the elevator, Patricia looked shell shocked. "That was the Abby that you dated?"
"Yes."
"You were...very serious about her."
"I was more serious than she was. We're better as friends."
"Oh."
Tim silently cheered. He couldn't have planned that meeting any better, and he was glad he hadn't tried. He was pretty sure the solid, quiet Gibbs now looked better to his mother as a partner for him than Abby.
The following days were a relief from spending constant time with their visitors. After an awkward discussion with his mother trying to ask him if he was being safe sexually, Tim was ready for her to go home. Gibbs reminded him each night when they went to bed that it was only a few more days, and perked him up each morning by suggesting they might get a case. They didn't.
Sarah took over 'mom time' for Thursday through Saturday, and a family meal Sunday night was the last event planned before the Endersens returned home.
"Meeting at the restaurant should be helpful. I think Mom's picking Sarah up, but Gibbs and I have our own car for a quick escape if we need it...you too, Ziva. Bye," Tim hung up his phone and looked at Gibbs in the driver's seat. "She wishes us luck."
"It's gonna be fine. They're leaving tomorrow."
Tim took a deep breath and Gibbs reached over to take his hand. The gesture made Tim smile, which helped both of them relax.
At the restaurant, arriving with ten minutes to spare, Tim spotted his mother's and Sarah's dark hair as they walked across the parking lot with Luke following closely.
"That where you get your punctuality?" Gibbs asked as they prepared to get out of the car.
"The Admiral, too."
"Of course."
As they walked toward the door, the comment had both of them thinking about Tim's strict father, now an Admiral, and if or when they'd be able to tell him anything about their life.
Inside, Patricia, Sarah, and Luke had just approached the hostess stand, having moved aside while a large group exited. Greetings were exchanged, with handshakes between everyone and hugs between Tim and his sister and mother, then they were brought to an oversized booth and seated. Tim slid in by the wall, freeing his left arm so he wouldn't constantly bump Gibbs as well as satisfying Gibbs' protective tendency. Sarah sat across from him, then Luke, with their mother on the outside for the same practical reason that she was also left handed. Gibbs observed the automatic adjustments and found them interesting. How often had Tim shifted in a group with his teammates over the years to cope? He'd always been subtle about it, since Gibbs had never noticed.
They ordered drinks, Gibbs sticking with coffee while Tim had a white wine, Sarah and Patricia martinis, and Luke a Coke. Stilted discussions about what each of the family was considering for dinner happened, with Gibbs having already decided and sitting silently with his back completely straight, hands lightly on the table atop his menu. The server returned, they ordered, and awkward silence descended.
"Did you get to see all the sights you wanted to, Mom?" Tim finally said.
"I have been to DC before, Timothy, but I hadn't seen the Jefferson Memorial since they renovated. I think Luke would have preferred to spend more time at the Smithsonian..."
"There's a big part of the Air and Space Museum off site now, so we'll have to get to that the next time," Luke supplied. It was one of the first times he'd voluntarily spoken up, and Tim jumped on the opportunity.
"What did you want to see that's at the Udvar-Hazy Center? They've got some great pieces out there."
"I've always wanted to see the Enola Gay. It played such a pivotal role in the war..."
"I think it's horrible, having that there on display. The plane that dropped both bombs? It killed all those people—" Sarah burst in.
"But that helped end the war, years ahead of how it might have been, saving countless lives—" Luke argued.
"Soldiers! Not civilians."
"There are always civilian casualties in war, Sarah."
Tim stared at the train wreck of an argument as it escalated, feeling guilty at his relief that it was taking the heat off of him and Gibbs.
"Will you two please not fight?" Patricia interjected.
Sarah looked at Tim for a fraction of a second and Tim nearly gave up the game with an exclamation when he realized that she was doing it on purpose. He hadn't had the impression that she had changed her opinion of his life choices when she left after she'd stayed with them, and he looked at Gibbs in query, receiving a bare nod that left him wondering how on earth he'd gotten Sarah onto their side.
The argument expanded into a philosophical one about the concept of a 'just' war, and Tim was surprised that Gibbs remained silent.
"It looks like I have arrived just in time to avoid bloodshed!" A voice sounded from over the partition between their section of the restaurant and the next.
"Penny!" Tim exclaimed. He bumped his hip against Gibbs, who shifted to stand and let Tim out. Rushing to hug his grandmother, Tim had tears in his eyes. "Oh, it's so wonderful to see you!"
While Tim was ebulliently greeting the older woman, Gibbs noticed the resigned expression both Sarah and Patricia got.
Gibbs shifted over and Tim sat down and drew Penny beside him. The woman's powerful personality took over, and she told about her trip to Mozambique and the work she'd been doing there. She exclaimed over the incredible letter she'd gotten from Tim about all the changes in his life and how she'd wrapped up her part of the work so she could come back to see for herself. Gibbs felt Tim tense and knowing he worried that she'd bring up his gender identity, he asked Penny about her trip back. She regaled them with her tale of buses and flights and boats, with a narrow escape from pirates near Seychelles. Then in one of her quick changes of direction, she turned back to Tim.
"But enough about me. Timothy, I think the important question here is: have you told your father?" She asked abruptly.
Tim stuttered and finally shook his head when he couldn't get a complete word out.
"You need to tell him, sweetheart. He really might surprise you. There's a lot more same sex hanky-panky going on on those ships out at sea than they like to admit publicly, but your father is high enough up to be well aware. He always wants to know how you're doing when I talk with him—"
"And how often is that?" Sarah interrupted. "Once a year? Once every three years? I haven't heard from him since I graduated from Waverly, and the card I got looked like something his assistant probably picked out."
"Oh, honey, he loves you. He's just very busy, and-"
"Look, we don't need to ruin a perfectly nice evening talking about John-" Patricia interjected.
"Who's ruining? I just think that Timothy should tell his father that he's in a loving relationship with a man and his gender identity is non-binary," Penny argued. She turned proudly to Tim. "See, Timothy, I understood what you meant about that. It's perfectly fine to be feminine and masculine and I am so happy for you, sweetheart. Look, I even brought you back a scarf! You said purple was your favorite, so here you go!" Penny withdrew a rustically woven piece of fabric from her purse and tried to put it around Tim's neck. The texture made it unique, and he would normally have been more appreciative, but he was in damage-control mode.
Tim wanted to crawl under the table. He took the scarf from her and overrode the hubbub from his mother asking about his gender, Sarah stridently criticizing John McGee, Luke attempting to change the subject, and narrowly stopping Gibbs from one of his piercing whistles. "That's enough! I told you each individually for a reason! I'm with Gibbs. I'm happy. I'm exploring my gender identity, but I am not going to be getting surgery or wearing dresses. And Penny, I will tell my father when I am ready. I appreciate that you're always supportive, but he rarely is, and it's my decision to tell him—or not, alright?"
Silence reigned at the table, and Sarah took the initiative and suggested that Patricia and Luke might want to return to their hotel. The party moved to the waiting area of the restaurant, with Gibbs slipping away after a quick squeeze to Tim's hand to pay the bill.
Patricia hugged Tim and dabbed her eyes, inviting him and Gibbs to come visit them sometime. Tim reassured her that everything really was alright with him and wished her a safe trip, telling her how much he loved her. Tim shook Luke's hand and embraced Sarah briefly, thanking her in a whisper. She smirked and herded their mother out the door.
"Oh, Timothy. I'm not going to apologize for—"
Tim held up his hand. "I'm very glad you're here. I hope I can see you again before you head off on another trip."
Penny shook her head. Tim always amazed her. "Thank you for telling me everything, sweetheart. I love you very much," she said, then looked toward where Gibbs hung back, waiting. "And you take care of my grandson. Let him take care of you, as well. That's what makes a good relationship!"
The men agreed and Penny vanished like the whirlwind she'd appeared as. Tim turned toward Gibbs.
"Can we go home?" He asked plaintively. Gibbs chuckled and nodded, putting a supportive arm around Tim's waist and taking them outside, then back home. He was very glad the long vacation weekend he'd planned for them was only four days away. Tim really needed the break.
~~~NCIS~~~
A/N I bet a lot of you spotted the reference to GottahavemyNCIS' wonderful Pirates, Traitors, and Goats, oh My! It's worth the read if you haven't checked it out yet. New computer mostly up and running. Cooking Bacon is set between this chapter and the next, so I'm going to try to get that posted on AO3 before I post chapter 4 here. Might be a slight delay, but I will post on Friday July 24 at the latest, barring catastrophe. Chapter 4 gets darker, folks, just fair warning. But you all know I have to have my happy ending, so please stay with me.
I hesitated to write Tim's mom in here without any canon support, knowing it will be contradicted when she finally shows up, but from all the tidbits from the show about Tim's past (her burning his Mad magazines, his knowledge/fear of nuns, etc.), this was my best effort.
Reviews are love.