AN: Explanation coming up for Diana Teo about the ladies' very similar names. It wasn't an accident, Di, so there!

Graduation Celebration Confrontation

Chapter 4

The light was too bright, and glared through his eyelids. And if it didn't, he told himself viciously, he'd still find something to complain about. Lying there, unable to move and not knowing why was doing wonders for his temper. He wondered if he could move since he'd used the morphine pump, so he tried again. He managed to lift his head from the pillow, only to have it fall back with an uncontrolled thump that sent coruscating white lights of pain through his temples, and left him seeing a pretty trail of silvery stars on the backs of his eyelids.

His shoulder was hurting…it was a nagging pain that he couldn't explain… he giggled and began to chant it to himself, until he realised that rhyming or not, he still wanted to know what it was…He didn't remember doing it. It was spreading across his right shoulder blade like a fiery spider's web, and he thought it hurt more than the bullet wound, which was high in his chest, or low in his left shoulder, depending on how you wanted to think about it.

He couldn't remember when he'd last felt so terrible, and wondered why he did. Physically, that was… being scared rigid for his friends took care of his emotional well-being. He began to tread the circle of self-reproach that he always seemed to find in such situations. Could he have done better? If he hadn't been shot he could have gone with them… protected them… DiNozzo, you were shot to stop you from going with them…

He coughed slightly. Oh, no… please… don't let my lungs be involved… I'll be on desk duty for weeks… did Gibbs warn them about the plague? DiNozzo, you sent him straight off after McGee… the four of them… It's what you wanted him to do… you can't complain that he did it. But this isn't Bethesda, shit, I don't even know where it is… get a grip, you wimp…

He wondered if a nurse had looked round the door and assumed he was having a lovely sleep. Or, it could be that only minutes had elapsed since he regained consciousness, and it simply felt like hours. Stop whining, DiNozzo. You can't help them, you're stuck here; you have to trust Gibbs. And Ziva… if she were here, would she hold your hand…? Don't go there… he screwed his face up against the bright light again, and remembered the golden sunlight of a morning in late Spring.

Tim had entered the hotel dining room looking slightly mussed and very boyish. Tony introduced him to Marianne without the slightest inflection in his voice, or twitch of face muscles to suggest he had a hidden agenda. They talked first, naturally enough, of the previous evening, and Tony said he hadn't expected to laugh so much.

"I'm glad you didn't warn me in advance about that opening… not knowing what was coming made the joke funnier."

Marianne agreed. "Have you ever lectured before, Tim? You seemed very relaxed about it, and you certainly have a style. I try to teach my students to relax when they're facing an audience, but some can do it and some can't." She saw Tony's puzzled look, and added, "You're remembering what I said yesterday. Not all of what I do is classified, Tony. I spend part of my time teaching at Cornell. About two weeks in every eight. Getting young computer whizzes to think outside the box about the future of information technology." It didn't escape the SFA's notice that his younger colleague perked up at the mention of two weeks in eight at Cornell.

Tim nodded enthusiastically. "It's not just that the people who come up with good innovation stand to make a fortune… there's also the angle of future computers to help humanity and not just be a strangle-hold on us all."

"Mmm," Tony said thoughtfully, "Lots of people are afraid of what would happen if all technology suddenly crashed." Then he wished he hadn't sounded interested, since the one thing that was necessary right now was for him to be out of here.

"Most of that's SciFi,Tony," Tim said, and Tony grinned.

"Glad to hear it, McAzimov," he said, and Tim's eyes widened momentarily. It was the first incidence of name-mangling since the journey, and he was really hoping Tony wouldn't tease him in front of a lady he wanted to impress. "You have to understand," the Italian went on to Marianne, and Tim was mentally cringing, "That you're talking to a full scale computer genius there, it's how he got the McGeek nickname, it's sort of a compliment really from the rest of us technophobes… Most of what he talks about-" He shrugged, pointed to himself and made an 'over my head' gesture, as the ghost of a grin came back to Tim's face.

Tony stood up. "It's been lovely meeting you again, Marianne," he said, shaking her hand and kissing her cheek. "But I said I'd meet the two young'ns, and I think you two'll want to talk about things that I wouldn't understand one word in twenty of." He looked back at Tim, and his eyes were dancing. "Call me later if you want to meet up again. Enjoy your breakfast – the brioches are very good." He walked away, his face breaking out into a grin as soon as he had his back to them.

Tim realised he'd been holding his breath, and tried not to let it all out in a whoosh. He turned back to Marianne, to see she was smiling. "So people play games with your name, Tim?"

"Well, Tony does…" He realised that Tony had not only given him the perfect ice-breaker, but had deliberately left him alone with the girl he was interested in. "But he's a friend, and it's what friends do."

"Yes, I can see that you're good friends. Did you come up together?"

"We did," he told her. "I never realised I'd be so glad of company on the journey. I was nervous."

"You didn't show it."

"Ah, well that's down to you. I laughed all the way through your presentation. I forgot about being scared. And seeing Tony up there on the back row with the youngsters helped too. How did you come to know Anne-Marie?"

"Well, now… her parents are my godparents. They were all really good friends at university, and stayed friends afterwards. My parents had rather a rush to get married before I arrived, and they asked Marty and Sue to be my godparents. Then it was eight years before they found that they were expecting; they'd more or less given up. When I found I was going to have a godsibling –"

"A godsibling…. I like it," Tim chuckled, wondering if Gemcity could use it.

"It has a ring to it, doesn't it! I said if it's a girl you have to call her Marianne, like me. Precocious nine-year-old that I was. They said two Mariannes would be too many, and said how about Anne-Marie instead."

"There's a certain symmetry to it," Tim said with a grin.

"It makes people blink. Although some never even notice… So how did you get to know her?" She became grave as Tim told her about the murder of Josh's father, and everything that followed.

"I suppose you know about everything since she arrived at Princeton… Tony told me she met Josh on the first induction day; he also said he thought they'd be together for life. I didn't meet her myself until we were involved in putting on a concert just before Christmas; did she tell you about that?"

"That she had a hand in solving a murder? Oh, yes."

"Two, actually…"

"Two?"

"Well…"

The time flew by. They took a leisurely walk around Princeton as Tim entertained Marianne with the amazing story of the gold that had been stolen three times. She linked her arm companionably through his, and he felt about ten feet tall. They walked over to the campus to find the others. Tim wasn't particularly keen, although he didn't let her see that; he'd hoped to keep her to himself for a while longer, since he was completely captivated, but he knew she wanted to say goodbye to her friends.

As they headed for Josh's favourite common room, Tim asked, "What time's your flight?" Please let it be late…

"Three forty. From Philadelpia. I've booked a taxi from the hotel."

"Cancel it." Tim wasn't going to let an opportunity like this go.

"Cancel it?"

"Let me take you to the airport. Please? I'd like to." He decided to go for broke. "It'd mean I could spend a little bit more time with you."

Marianne smiled, thought about it for a very brief moment, and nodded. "That would be great, Tim." She was about to tell him that she'd be back in the USA in a month's time, when she heard Josh call to them.

Tim looked up and braced himself; behind the two youngsters, Tony was looking him straight in the eye and grinning like a Cheshire cat. The younger agent almost disentangled his arm from Marianne's, but then left it there, with a 'so there' glare at his friend. When they went to sit down by the windows, where they'd sat the previous day, Tim offered to get the coffee. Tony, as he'd expected, instantly said, "I'll come with you."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Tim held up a warning hand, but the SFA simply grinned at it. "Hey, I'm not going to give you the third degree. Just tell me it worked, McGee."

"What worked?" Oh, it was so good to make Tony squirm occasionally…

"Leaving you together over the hot croissants, of course! McGee…"

"It worked. Actually, thanks. Er, Tony…"

"I'll be good. But you have to tell me all about it on the drive home."

"Erm, yes… about that… What time were you wanting to get back to DC?"

Tony had really wanted to catch a movie and a pizza with Ziva, but he'd said he was happy to wait with their young friends until Tim got back from Philly. (As soon as McGee and Marianne disappeared to go back to the hotel, he was on the phone – "Hi, Zi… guess what?")

"Oh," Marianne said in surprise, "Now that will teach me not to assume. This is my transport to the airport?"

Tim bowed, and opened the passenger door with a flourish. "Your coach awaits, milady."

(Stop it you fool, you're not DiNozzo. He wagged his finger at himself, if that were possible. Hey – if it wasn't for DiNozzo, this wouldn't be happening.) He closed the door gently, walked round the car and got in.

He smiled at her. "The sharp analytical mind of the federal agent detects… that you assumed, to use your word, that a poor fed couldn't afford a car like this."

"Oh, Tim," Marianne said anxiously, "I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm such a materialistic girl… impressed by a set of wheels!"

Tim squeezed her hand, (OMG, did I just do that?) and grinned. "I'm joking. I couldn't afford this on my salary. I, er… I write. Crime thrillers."

He felt guilty about bragging, especially to a girl who taught at Cornell and did classified work in Europe. But the reaction was all he could have hoped for.

"You're a published author?" And then she showed him just how sharp she was. "Tim McGee… Timothy McGee… you're not… you're Thom E. Gemcity! And you took until now to tell me? Wait 'til I tell my Mutti… she loves your stuff!"

"I'm surprised she's heard of me."

"Tim, they live over here. She's a fan. You'll have to meet her some time." She stopped and clapped her hand to her mouth. "What am I saying? I only seem to open my mouth to put my foot in it…"

The smile Tim gave her almost melted her glasses. He had a sudden rush of blood to the head, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I'd love to meet your mother," he said cheerfully, and started the car.

He'd have driven more slowly if there hadn't been a flight to catch… once again their talk ranged over many topics, and they each marvelled at how happy and at ease they were in each others' company. They arrived at the airport far too quickly, and Tim carried Marianne's case to the check-in. They stood at the departure gate, and he took her hands. "So… what now? I don't want to let this go, Marianne."

"I think… we should see each other again, Tim… shouldn't we?"

"We should. D'you think we can manage a long-distance relationship?"

"We'll kick ourselves if we don't at least try." She remembered what she'd been going to tell him. "I'll be back in New York in a month's time."

He tucked his card into the pocket of her jacket. She wrote her cell phone number on the cuff of his shirt, as the PA called the boarding of her flight. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then, with all the confidence of a DiNozzo, he drew her close, and kissed her. "Have a safe journey, Dr. Weiss. Call me when you land." He kissed her again, and watched her, his head spinning, as she disappeared through the gate.

He stood still, looking after her for a few moments; and then as he turned to go, he stopped. He had that odd feeling that agents, with permanently alert senses (even if I have just been kissing a lovely blonde girl, he told himself,) sometimes got, that he was being watched. He put his hand down towards his gun, and turned slowly through three hundred and sixty degrees, but nothing stood out. He shrugged, and went back to his car.

Back at the hotel, waiting for Tony to return from his day with Josh and Anne-Marie, Tim lay on his bed and tried to chill before the journey back to Washington. He wondered if this might have been one of the most significant days of his life. He had no idea how he was going to get through the next month…

After a while, he heard Tony's knock on his door. He braced himself and called "It's open", and the SFA came into the room bouncing on his toes.

His glance went straight to the numbers on Tim's cuff, and his eyes lit up. He didn't comment though, merely asking if his friend was ready to check out. He kept up the self-restraint, barely, until they were in the car and heading out of town. As they came onto the freeway, he finally burst out, "Well, tell me, then!"

AN: I've never written Tim romance before… I hope it worked. Tell me, then?