A/N: My deepest apologies for the awfully long wait on an update. Life has definitely gotten in the way of this spare-time endeavor. Have a major (different state) move coming up so... I will only promise to do my best to keep working on this in my spare time.
In the meantime...
Christmas morning finds Tim so tired, he sleeps through his alarms, both previously set to go off at different times, intended to get him up an hour before their normal off days breakfast time of 0630. He'd planned on having breakfast ready before disturbing Leroy. But, after an exhausting, harrowing night spent tossing and turning on the uncomfortable sofa trying to outrun the images becoming all too real in his dreams, it's nearly 0500 before he actually finds any shred of peaceful sleep. Once he does, he's dead to the world.
In fact, it's Leroy who awakens next. When he does, it doesn't take him long to get out of bed and lumber to the head, one sluggish step at a time. He takes care of his business and carefully makes it downstairs while taking care not to jar his still sore injuries too much, the ever-present reminder of such in the form of his medicine in hand as he searches for Tim at 0615. Finding his love fast asleep and looking more ragged than even last night as he remains motionless through the first few jarring notes of his alarm, the older man scoops up Tim's phone and kills both the current noise and the remaining alarm clock timers, he pockets the younger man's phone. Taking this stolen moment, he tenderly cards the younger man's hair while he quietly allows himself to give a voice to what he's feeling. "Love you so much it scares me sometimes, Tim."
After another moment spent just watching Tim sleep, he heads to the kitchen to fix breakfast so he can take the stupid pills. He's still achy which reminds him that he still needs the antibiotics, but his concern for Tim now trumps his own discomfort. Although he hasn't said anything to his love yet, Leroy's heard his cries in the middle of the night these past three nights. Unexpected trips to the head in the wee hours of the morning as well as a house that bounces sound around quite well, have seen to that. Knowing Tim's been having a rough time sleeping all week is a hard pill to swallow when the younger man already isn't sleeping next to him so he can be there for him. Not knowing exactly what's going on makes it worse and he's just been waiting for Tim to talk to him about it. Maybe, today will be the day. He can hope, anyway.
The attempt to find breakfast returns his thoughts to the here and now he's dealing with. Still feeling every pull of any attempt to reach for things, Leroy curses that problem as well as the medical restrictions that won't allow him to lift anything heavier than a coffee cup yet. Tim needs to eat without having to do all the cooking. Leaning in with all his weight, he gently tugs on the door of the refrigerator, knowing it will not be so painfull of a muscle pull to do it like this. Doing it like this should take it off the "Do Not Do" List!
With that dry thought in mind, Leroy checks the cold and frozen food supply for inventory to work with and comes up with frozen breakfast burritos that just need to be heated up. Definitely light enough to do the job of a buffer for the medicine. He'll heat up at least two for Tim. Poor guy hasn't been eating enough to feed a turtle. He needs to be reminded that they're supposed to be taking care of each other.
Settling down at the breakfast table with his burritos slid onto the paper plates Tim's kept handy by the microwave for this purpose and a glass of orange juice, Leroy allows the peace and quiet to surround him in stereo. It's a different level of quiet downstairs and it feels more freeing, less stifling. Taking his time, Leroy finishes his breakfast and places Tim's in the microwave for later. He's in no hurry to wake the young man. In fact, he hopes nothing will for quite a while yet.
Wanting to keep an eye on Tim as the exhausted man sleeps while he himself reads more of his book, he treks back upstairs to retrieve it from the bedroom, welcoming the exercise and the slight workout this is giving him as he once again heads back downstairs, albeit at a much slower pace. This time, he knows the meds have kicked in because he doesn't feel anything pull or ache and that puts a smile on his face. He wishes he could snuggle with his love but doesn't want to wake him so he settles instead for getting comfortable in the recliner, although he doesn't pull it back into any reclining position. With one eye on the younger man, Leroy tries to distract himself by attempting to read his book.
After a few moments of staring at the page unseen, he can't escape the truth. He'd much rather be able to talk to Tim, especially given all they haven't talked about yet and Ducky's advice about it. Reluctantly, Leroy focuses on his book once more, trying to lose himself in it but can't seem to remember anything he's looking at. A wave of weariness settles over him unaware.
**********NCIS**********
Tim feels like he's slept for a month. His head hurts and he's stiff from sleeping so hard. Apparently, he never moved since the last time he fell asleep. How long has he been sleeping, anyway?
Leroy's awakened by the sound of Tim stirring and quickly looks over at the younger man to see how he's faring.
When Tim's eyes find Leroy watching him from the recliner, he bolts upright, horrified that he's fallen down on the job and left the patient to fend for himself. Before he can even open his mouth, Leroy is standing up and approaching him, concern etched in his features as he sits down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, making sure it's his own good shoulder doing the work.
"You okay?" The older man asks with genuine concern. Wanting to be close to Tim, he gently pulls him a shade closer to him while he waits for the answer to his question. Mentally, he's kicking himself for going against his self-ordered ban on allowing himself to be intimate with Tim until he's closer to being completely healed and able to provide him with real physical intimacy that he can't give him yet. He usually doesn't have to dig for the answer to this question - his own actions have brought this about and he hates it.
Wiping a tired hand across his face, Tim blinks away the blurriness. The concern on his love's face forestalls any and all guilt for sleeping so late. He knows there's a reason the older man is sitting so close and so he quickly snuggles into Leroy's embrace as he offers a token apology. "I'm so sorry I didn't hear my alarm go off. "
Leroy grins at him. "Kinda hard to do when I turned 'em off." He pokes fun.
Startled, Tim looks up at him. "You….?"
"You needed the sleep, Tim. Still lookin' pretty tired." Leroy gets serious once more.
"I'm okay. What about you?" The young man tries to turn the subject around. "Are you hurting? He gently disentangles himself from his love and gets to his feet. "Let me get you some breakfast. You must be starving." He takes the first steps towards the kitchen.
"Tim." The older man quietly calls him back, knowing his tone will forestall any further escape.
Sure enough, the young man stops and turns back.
"Already ate. Yours is in the microwave."
"Ok. Thanks." Unconsciously unable to hold the guilt at bay for Leroy having to fix his own breakfast this morning, Tim doesn't say anything else as he heads into the kitchen and warms up his brunch. Leroy doesn't need his guilt added to what healing he's already going through. Sitting down at the table with his cup of hot tea and plate of burritos several minutes later, he's soon joined by the older man, a tender smile on Leroy's face for Tim as he quietly addresses what's most on his mind.
"Gonna let me in?"
"Let you in on what, Leroy?" Tim asks in genuine confusion. He sets his burrito down, lays his napkin over it and pushes the plate to the side as he drags his cup towards him and wraps his hands around it to give them something to hold onto.
"What it is that's keepin' you' from sleepin' at night…." The older man glances pointedly at Tim's unfinished breakfast. "And eatin'?"
Tim sighs and takes a deep breath, slowly letting it out. Looking up, he locks eyes with his love as he opens his mouth next. "How'd you sleep last night?"
Leroy frowns at the change in subject matter – especially since it's been turned back on him.
Tim knows he's changed the conversation around on Leroy. He genuinely wants to know the answer. "Better than the last two nights?" Tim's firm tone leaves no room for further discussion of his own inner workings or thought processes."
"Tim…." The older man's not fooled by the change in subject matter, neither is he pleased.
With a stubborn small shake of his head, Tim refuses to back down. "I need to know, Leroy, because if Ducky needs to give you something to help you sleep better…."
Leroy strives to shut him down quick, something he rarely ever does when listening to someone speak and has never done at home with Tim before. "Stop." He firmly directs.
Tim freezes, not sure how to feel or what to expect as the words dry up in his throat. He sighs deeply while he looks away, finding the wall over Leroy's shoulder very fascinating at the moment.
The silence thickens between them. Leroy's growing uncomfortable having taken this tac with his love. Emitting his own sigh of frustration, he tries again, his tone calm and almost pleading. "Tim. Will you talk to me, please?"
Tim nods as he swallows hard. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lets it back out as he figures out how to express what's front and center on his mind. When he finally speaks, his tone is just as quiet and calm as Leroy's has been. "You told me you wanted Ducky to change your bandages yesterday. But you couldn't look at me when you said it. That bothers me, Leroy. You have to know it's okay if you don't want me changing your bandages anymore. I can take it. Although, it would help if I knew why."
Sighing deeply, Leroy looks at him as he reaches for his hand. He doesn't like that Tim won't talk to him about his problems sleeping, but he'll take whatever conversation he can get at this point because there's plenty they haven't ironed out between them. "Not that I don't want you to be the one taking care of me, Tim. Just saw how hard it was on ya. Felt it."
"But, I got through it, Leroy! And it's part of 'for better or worse' right? Please don't shut me out like that without at least explaining it to me! It's…." Tim drops his love's hand and gets to his feet, going to the sink and holding onto it so tight his knuckles turn nearly translucent. Turning around, he leans back against the sink, his hand going back to once again clutch it on either side of his frame with all his strength and focused tension, Tim frowns as he forces himself to say the words, knowing his tone isn't hiding his anger like he'd like it to. "I'm not gonna break!"
"I know that." Leroy promises him calmly. "Been through a hell of a lot worse than this – made it through just fine."
"Okay, so?" The younger man demands now. "You're not supposed to be dealt any kind of stress right now and you still want in on what's going on with me – but you won't talk to me about what you're thinking? Sounds to me like you think I can't handle changing your bandages because I got overwhelmed for a minute at the thought of what you must have gone through in that moment. It was a minute! And I handled it!"
"Doesn't mean you need it shoved in your face every day, Tim." Leroy compassionately argues.
"Isn't that for me to decide?" Tim asks in frustration.
"No. Because you wouldn't." The older man firmly asserts.
"Ae you trying to push me away?" Tim asks in anger and hurt. Angrily, he stalks from the room, taking himself to the living room where he can pace through his frustration in a bigger space.
"That what you think?" The older man asks in a tone filled with anguish as he steps into Tim's path, forestalling any further movement by the younger man. He pulls Tim close, wincing as his chest is incidentally bumped with his love's head. "Never gonna do that, Tim. Remember? "
"If you're not letting go of me…." Tim begins to remind him in a near whisper.
"…don't expect me to let go of you." Leroy joins in, both of them finishing reciting their vow to each other from ages ago, their eyes locked on each other.
Overwhelmed in the emotion of the moment, Tim turns into Leroy's good shoulder, soaking up the promise and the physical grounding of it that Leroy's giving him in this moment. It's not long before he realizes that this must be causing the older man pain since it's putting pressure on his chest wound. Pulling away gently, he reaches up and cards the older man's hair with his fingers the way they both love. "Glad we got that straight." He says quietly.
Leroy swallows hard as he offers a nod in response. For another long space of time they hold each other's gaze, Both hungry for more, neither moving towards it. Finally, the older man speaks first, addressing what they both know is there between them in the moment.. "Can't go there until I can give you my all, Tim. Too much for both of us."
Tim nods. "I know. And I'm sorry I pushed it yesterday – and the day before. I shouldn't have."
"Nothin' to be sorry for." Leroy gives him an out, pulling him close once more ad holding him even tighter for a moment before easing up on the pressure he's putting on his own chest. "I wanted it too."
Tim knows it is his own fault but he doesn't want to argue about it so he lets it go. He chooses, instead to change the subject as he gently pulls back once more, this time changing the subject as he moves. "What do you want to do today once the pain eases off?"
"Step outside. Feel the fresh air, no matter how cold." Leroy says without hesitation.
Tim looks at him in mild shock. "You're serious?"
"Ready when you are." Leroy answers him back without missing a beat.
"Well, all right then." Tim offers summarily as he cleans off the table and heads out of the room towards the front door where their jackets are hanging on the coat rack he bought a few months ago.
"Tim."
Surprised, Tim turns back. "Something wrong?"
"Asked you that earlier. Still waitin' for the answer."
Tim sighs. Looking Leroy straight on, hearing the concern, seeing the worry, he refuses to add to it by telling him about the horrors that have been hounding him in his sleep. Tenderly, he makes a request. "Please don't make me talk about it. I'll be fine. I promise."
"Tim…" The older man stubbornly pushes, hating like hell that Tim won't unburden all that he's carrying.
"Please, Leroy! Let's just enjoy the day. Okay? The forecast sounded pretty good." Tim says as he repeats what he's heard it is supposed to be like outside. "High of 36 and cloudy with morning flurries."
"Sounds great." The older man says seriously as he turns and follows Tim to the coat rack and without any conversation, lets Tim get his long wool coat and scarf down for him and help him into it before leading the way out to the porch. He's upset but he won't push anymore. When Tim gets like this, he's worse than a brick wall – kinda like Leroy himself.
Frustrated at having obviously upset the older man, Tim follows in his wake, choosing to sit on the swing, instead of crowding the man at the porch railing where he's leaning on it, looking out at the neighborhood. As he looks out in the same direction while giving his love some breathing room, Tim realizes he's never really met any of the neighbors, never gotten to know any of them or they him. It's a realization that joins up in his mind with the ones he's kinda thrown off to the side until now, the ones that come back to him now and remind him of something important.
Several times in the course of preparing for everything that needed to be done in time for Leroy to come home, Tim thought of this place as Leroy's. Not thiers - but the older man's. Not his own. He remembers thinking back on Tuesday in terms of needing to have the man's house ready for him. Had it just been stress? What happened to those days and nights when he was on top of the world to be here, calling it his home as much as Leroy did? Where had that 'homey' feeling gone?
Even Gibbs had been thinking that way obviously. Tim recalls when the man got home from the hospital on Wednesday, the words out of his future husband's mouth.
"No….Just want my own bed!"
Was it just the physical pain he'd been in and stress he'd been under at the time? Or was it something deeper that neither one of them had been able to being themselves to expose about their own inner feelings? In his mind now, it also brings up now the reason for the Christmas present he hasn't been able to find for Leroy. He'd had no idea what to get him since the man never wants anything and is always happy with what he has.
A deeper layer of Tim's soul has been looking for something that he hasn't wanted to give a voice to, but still desperately wanted to start looking for. Does he dare bring it up now? No! The last thing Leroy needs right now is my discontent. For cryin' out loud, it can wait til he's back on his feet! Hell, I can't even figure out where it came from or why I suddenly feel this way!
Suddenly needing his own room to breathe, Tim makes his getaway, quietly making the excuse thrown over his shoulder as he heads inside. "Gonna check the laundry."
Feeling the tightness in his chest beginning to set in from the cold, Leroy heads inside too, but leaves Tim to do as he's said, heading to the living room himself. Getting comfortable on the couch, he closes his eyes in deep thought. What the hell is going on in Tim's head? Why can't he open up? The obvious reason comes to mind, that being that the young man is not going to add any new problem to Leroy's plate so long as the older man is still recovering and still has physical therapy to get through – the hell no one enjoys after being injured on the job. Which means the younger man doesn't realize he's treating Leroy like he's too fragile to handle anything beyond the day to day recovery crap. That doesn't sit will with Leroy at all.
It's time they really talked. No more of this avoiding the issues! Taking several relaxing breaths while he waits for Tim to come back up from the basement, he slowly lets out each one. By the time Tim climbs the basement stairs to the kitchen, clean laundry in his arms, the older man is waiting for him. "We need to talk, Tim."
Startled, Tim can only nod as he sets the folded clothes down on the thankfully clean kitchen table. "Okay."
Leroy nods and turns to go back to the living room, taking a seat once more on the sofa. He waits for Tim to join him in the room, noting with dissatisfaction that the younger man chooses to sit on the opposite end of the sofa, feet and knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them as if trying to curl into himself. Leaving that alone, Leroy fires the first shot, needing Tim to hear exactly what's bothering him. "Just this morning you reminded me that you're not fragile."
"Uhm. Yeah. I did."
"I seem fragile to you?"
"What? No!" Nervously, Tim clamors to his feet, pacing from the sofa to the porch door and back now.
"So the reason you're not being upfront with me about what's on your mind is what, exactly?"
Tim swallows hard around the lump in his throat as stops moving. He looks warily at his love unhappy to be having this stress laden discussion with the man who's not supposed to be put through any more stress while he recovers.
"Doctors' Orders included no stress." Tim reminds him firmly.
"Understandable."
"I agree." Tim offers without backing down. "This isn't about me. Or at least, it shouldn't be. Don't ask me to dump anything on you that isn't gonna help you heal or recover, Leroy. I won't do it. And I won't let anyone else do it, either!"
Leroy frowns. "I don't like you holdin' stuff in, Tim."
"Would you do any differently if our positions were reversed?" Tim demands. angry that Leroy is harping on what Tim's been struggling too hard with to be able to put it into words.
"Nope." The older man agrees. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Ooh, I know that." Tim dryly remarks. Stalking from the room, he goes back to the kitchen and scoops up the clothes from the table and heads up stairs to put them away, all his good intentions gone to hell in a hand-basket. Damn it!
Leroy sighs. Yeah, that's not what he wanted out of that, by any means. Slowly, he treks upstairs, wanting to smooth things over with Tim. He finds the younger man hanging up clothes in their closet. He speaks quietly, sitting down on the bed as he does. "Didn't mean to accuse you."
Tim nods. He hears him and accepts what he's saying, but doesn't dare speak to the topic at hand.
"Just hate it when you won't open up and let me in, Tim."
"I do when I can put it into words, Leroy. You know that." Tim stops and looks at him now. "I don't intentionally keep secrets from you that aren't about surprises. "You know that too."
"Coupla times I recall – meant to talk to ya about 'em when I realized it then – got distracted." Leroy reminds him as he watches the younger man walk over to the bed and sit down next to him, twice the space between them as usual. When Tim remains silent, it's easy to see he's struggling to find the words. trying to find a way to break the silence that's befallen them. The older man lets him have the time, knowing it's not easy to jump right to the point, no matter how badly they need to talk about it.
Finally, Tim offers him a response, looking him in the eye as he does. "I've never intentionally held anything important back from you, except talking about kids, Leroy. If it seems like I have, I guess it was just part of my old habits, where I never dumped my crap on anyone else. Not really something I planned on withholding."
"I figured. Doesn't mean I don't want in, Tim. We're a team, remember? Not alone anymore, either one of us."
Tim nods as he looks down. He swallows hard before he looks back up at Leroy. "There's always gonna be stuff that shouldn't be opened up until it's the right time, though. Not to mention a ton of small stuff that we manage on our own without dragging each other into it"
"I agree."
Tim sighs. "Okay. And I'm asking you to understand that right now, is one of those times that your questions ….I can't answer them right now."
"Can I ask why?"
"Because, Leroy, it's not fair to you – for me to open that door right now."
"Later then."
"I promise, when the time is right, I will open up and let you in." Tim vows as he continues to look the older man directly on.
"Okay." Leroy gives in. He can't ask for more than this for a compromise and he knows it.
"Thank you." Tim sighs in relief, returning to his love's side as they head back downstairs together and resettle on the sofa, cuddling like they haven't been able to do in over a week.
*****NCIS*****
Try as he might Tony hasn't been able to get his suspicion and the little things he noticed last night at the party out of his mind. It's been heaven sleeping in, now that Ziva has finally deemed him 'okay enough to stay home alone' and gone home to her own place, giving him plenty of time and space in which to think. He wants to talk to Ducky about it but first, he needs to talk to Tim about this mess. He tries to call the younger man but it the phone goes straight to voicemail. Leaving him a message to call him back so they can talk, Tony sighs as he closes up his phone and heads for the shower.
*****NCIS*****
The rest of the morning passes blissfully for Leroy and Tim and as lunchtime rolls around, it feels like they've regained some of the emotional ground they'd been losing recently. With both of them feeling more secure in the relationship, their time seems to fall back into some of their old patterns, minus the sex and the working in the basement, of course. Both of them spend much of their time quietly reading in each other's company, each giving the other the quiet, the space and the choice to pass their time as they choose.
It isn't until Leroy readies himself for a nap, that he recalls pocketing Tim's phone and returns it to him with a guilty grin. "Not sorry I turned it off."
Tim smiles softly at him. "I'm glad you did too. Now, get some sleep." Sitting on the floor at the man's head while Leroy insists on napping on the couch, Tim silently begins going through his phone, checking messages and texting back responses with speed and precision.
It's not long before he realizes Leroy has fallen asleep and clamors to his feet Heading upstairs to his office, Tim settles in behind his desk and turns to his free-writing to let his emotions out. This morning's near confrontation had nearly cost him everything, he'd been that close to losing his grip on the barricade holding them in. He can't let it happen again so he's got to let what he can out to relieve the pressure.
*****NCIS*****
Engrossed in the novel he's been reading all day, Ducky doesn't hear the first chime of his doorbell. The second one reaches his ears and he's on his feet and heading to the door in a moment, calling out as he moves. "Just a moment!"
When he opens the door to his townhome, he's not surprised to find Tony and Ziva standing there. He is however, genuinely pleased for the company. "Hello, Ziva. Anthony. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
"Actually, Ducky. We came to talk to you...about McGee...and Gibbs too."
"Ah. I see." The older man turns aside and ushers them inside his home. "Let's talk in the kitchen while I brew us some tea."
"Thank you, Ducky." Ziva responds. "I am sorry if we are intruding."
"Nonsense, my dear. A visit from anyone on Team Gibbs is not an intrusion in the slightest."
The agents watch as their honorary uncle sets up their drink cups and sets the water to boiling for tea. When he sits down with them for a moment, Tony gets right to the point.
"What can we do, Ducky?"
"Might I presume that you are referring to the strain we all felt between our patient and Timothy?
"Yes." Ziva acknowledges sadly.
"Unfortunately, there is little we can do outside of letting them be to work it out for themselves." Ducky tells them.
"Haven't seen Probie this pissed at me since I threatened to bust his door down the night I first found out about the two of them." Tony worries. "The only thing I can figure I've done to piss him off….hell, I can't even figure it out! What the hell have I done?"
"Anthony, do you recall when we spoke of your acceptance of their relationship?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Did I not tell you that Timothy was counting on you to keep Gibbs safe on the job – to continue to have his back out in the field now that he could no longer be out there with you?"
"Yeah. But, I did that! I took out most of that group that was there! I can't help it if the actual shooter got away - for a few days! Besides, we got him in the end, didn't we?"
"Anthony, that is not what I am referring to."
"Okay, then what?"
"Surely, you understand that Timothy and Gibbs are in a serious relationship?"
"Well, yeah, Ducky, anyone of us that know them, knows that!"
"And as part of that relationship, they had an agreement with each other and you admitted to Timothy that on the day that Gibbs was shot, you convinced him to break that agreement without a second thought."
"Huh? Wait a second! The only thing I convinced Gibbs to do….oh, crap!"
"Indeed." Ducky replies dryly.
"No wonder Tim's so pissed! Yeah, I remember now, he actually hung up on me when I called him to tell him Gibbs had been shot – after he yelled at me to tell him where he'd gotten shot and how it had happened through his vest. Jeez, how'd I forget about that?"
"I'm relieved that you understand now, Anthony. However, I strongly suggest you refrain from acting on that at the moment. You must allow them space to work through their own problems before they can attempt to deal with yours."
"I hear ya, Ducky. I hear ya. Wait, if I am guilty of that, why shouldn't I go apologize?"
"Because, Dear boy, No one can make Gibbs do anything he doesn't want to do."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning, Tony, that it is Gibbs' fault that he was wounded."
Ducky nods. "Exactly, Ziva! In that he chose to go in without that vest, the final culpability in Gibbs' getting shot, lies with himself."
"Well, hell!" Tony exclaims. "Think Gibbs will survive when McAngry finally lets that one loose?"
*****NCIS*****
Leroy awakens to the clacking of Tim's typewriter keys, though just barely. It's been ages since the younger man has used that thing. Nowadays he's given in to the speed and word correction ability of the computer for his actual writing. No this racket means Tim's unloading some of what he's going through out onto the pages he's filling. Leroy sighs with relief. That's a good thing.
Sitting up on the couch, he winces as the error of his judgement comes back to bite him through the pain in his neck and shoulder. Thankfully, his chest isn't joining that parade and is actually giving him a break. He takes a minute to think about things, realizing that although it's great having Tim here with him all day, it's not the way Tim's used to spending his time and having someone share his space 24 hours a day without a break while he's on restricted ability and no caffeine isn't inducing a healthy atmosphere between them.
Picking up his phone off the table, he opens it and makes a call.
"Vance."
"Leon, put Tim back to work."
"Gibbs. How are you?"
"Good enough he doesn't need to babysit me anymore."
"You've been home for less than a week."
"I know."
"Even you don't heal that fast."
"I'm not an invalid. All I need is a driver and not every day either."
"Why do I get the feeling you haven't even discussed this with Tim yet, Gibbs?"
"Leon, just do it. Please."
"I'll discuss it with Dr. Mallard. If he feels you're doing well enough to …."
"Why does everyone treat me like I'm invalid?" Gibbs mutters in agitation.
"Easy, Gibbs. Just….let me get a more experienced opinion on this. And you – talk to Tim!"
"Leon!"
"The only way I'm gonna agree with this idea of yours is if Dr. Mallard gives me the green light and you do what I tell ya - talk to Tim first."
"Yeah. Okay." Gibbs agrees. "Was plannin' on it."
"Uhm-mmm." Vance hedges. "More likely, you wanted me to issue the order so you wouldn't have to get him to agree to it. Well, that's one fight I'm not getting in the middle of, Gibbs. When Tim calls me, I'll take it from there. But, not until then. " **Click**
Snapping his phone shut and sliding it into his shirt pocket, Leroy carefully he gets to his feet and shuffles toward the kitchen, his movements stalling out at the sight of Tim quickly coming down the stairs as if concerned about him.
Sure enough, before his foot's even touched on the floor, Tim's asking a question. "Hey, I heard you getting pretty loud. Everything okay?"
Leroy offers him a wry grin of sorts. "Vance."
Tim's expression turns angry. "He's bothering you already?"
Leroy shakes his head. "I called him."
Leroy's not sure what's worse; the angry look on Tim's face or the expectation of even more fury from the man he loves when he hears the forthcoming explanation.