Chapter 14

By the time Friday rolled around, Tim was almost over his embarrassment from his inebriation. As he had recalled the details of his drunken ramblings, he knew that, at the very least, he had been a bit too verbose. He also had vague recollections of trying to dance and falling on Ziva. He had awakened the next morning to his alarm clock... and a drum beat throbbing in his head. This was why he never got drunk. He really hated the after effects, and whatever enjoyment he might have had the night before did not make up for the discomfort of a hangover, particularly since it usually took a lot of effort to even remember whatever it was he had enjoyed. Ziva had called him to remind him of her hangover cure, and even through his agony, he could hear her trying to suppress her laughter. Her cure had made him feel well enough to go to work, but he was definitely not in top form... not that it had mattered all that much. He had spent the day making sure everyone's computers kept running and occasionally conferencing with Aisha about how much security was needed on the new computers, how the networks would best be set up. In reality, he was marking time until the computers got there.

Now, it was Friday afternoon, and Tim was surrounded by boxes. He looked morosely at them and wondered how long it would take to get rid of the old computers and start up the new ones... and he wondered how fast Aisha would need him to do it.

"They're here, I see," Aisha commented.

Tim jumped at the sound of her voice and spun around to face her. "Y-yes. All of them."

Aisha laughed. "I see you're just getting an understanding of the magnitude of your task."

"Something like that."

"Well, are you still able to work tomorrow?"

"Yes. How quickly do you need this done?"

"How quickly can you do it?"

"That depends..." as she raised her eyebrow at him, he hurried on, "...on how long I work each day, how many problems crop up while I transfer all the files and programs, whether or not you want me to work on the weekend."

"Will there be problems?"

"Unless you are blessedly lucky. There are always a few glitches that pop up when shifting to newer technology: compatibility issues, corrupted files, things like that. Usually they're not a permanent problem, but they take time to address and with all these new computers and a new network, and new software, I'm anticipating quite a few glitches."

"If you worked Saturday and Sunday, could you be finished by Monday?"

Tim groaned inwardly but didn't dare refuse. Besides, that would mean he wouldn't have so much scrutiny while he installed his spy program.

"Probably."

"I can't emphasize enough how quickly we need this running. I'll pay you overtime, of course, but I need to have access to the new network as soon as possible."

Tim nodded in resignation. "Yes, ma'am. I can work through the weekend."

"Good. I'll make sure you have a key by the end of the day. Jon may be in and out throughout the weekend, but you'll probably be alone most of the time."

"Okay." That was a relief.

"No complaints about working by yourself?"

Tim shrugged at the question. "Why would I need anyone around?"

He was surprised when Aisha seemed satisfied by his non-answer.

"Good. Have a nice weekend, Tim."

"Thank you, Aisha."

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A few hours later, Tim stumbled into his apartment. He knew now, more than ever, why he hadn't wanted to go into tech support. All this tinkering meant so little in the long run. If he was honest, he'd admit that was part of the reason for his desire to disobey Gibbs. If all he did was sit around and do the work of a tech, then, that's all he was. He needed more than that. It was probably going to come back and bite him, but for now, he could live with that. Whether or not he would live with it later remained to be seen.

His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone. He looked at the display and groaned. It was Tony. Tim looked at the name flashing and felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. He was horribly embarrassed by how he'd treated Tony, as much because it had been an accusation, a pronouncement of his own anger, as because of his rudeness. Tony hadn't even been teasing him all that much, but he had been too close to correct in his assessment. The phone kept ringing insistently at him.

"If I don't answer, I'm being rude and a coward. If I do answer, I'll be awkward and probably stupid. Which is worse?" he asked aloud. "I'll take rude and cowardly." He closed his phone and went to his fridge to make dinner.

An hour later, his phone rang again. Again, he looked at the display.

"Abby!" he said, happily. She hadn't called him since he had rudely thrown her out of his apartment. He answered quickly. "Hey, Abby!"

"Hey, Tim! How goes things?" she asked, no noticeable reservations in her voice. Tim grinned with relief.

"Oh, fine. Boring."

"I heard you had a wild night, recently," she said slyly.

Tim blushed again. "Really?"

"Yeah, Ziva told me that she got you drunk."

"Great."

"Is it true that you danced?" Abby asked, laughing openly.

"If I remember correctly, I tried to dance," Tim answered, trying to stop the conversation there.

"Do you ever do anything else, even sober?"

"Ha ha. I'm not that bad."

"Not as bad as Elaine Benes, but..." Abby trailed off significantly.

"Stop it, Abby."

"She even said that you sang."

Vague memories of crooning such noteworthy tunes as "She's An Angel" flitted through Tim's mind and he grimaced. He hadn't even listened to They Might Be Giants in years. Why had he picked that particular group?

"Yes, yes I did."

"Did you kiss her?"

"Um..." Tim racked his brain. There were a couple of near misses, but he couldn't say for sure.

"You did?! McGee! And here I thought you were the consummate gentleman."

"I didn't say that I did. Parts of the night are fuzzy. That's what being drunk is all about, Abby."

Abby cleared her throat significantly. "Why haven't you ever done that for me, Tim?"

"Generally, I don't enjoy being inebriated."

"You want to give an encore tomorrow?"

Tim sighed sadly. He would not like to give an encore, but he would like to hang out with Abby. Unfortunately...

"I can't, Abbs. I have to work all weekend."

"Oh."

"Really, Abby. I can't. I wish I could, but my boss just gave me a new assignment, and I can't risk losing another job by saying no." Tim was nearly pleading with her. "You understand, right?"

"I guess so." Abby sounded more resigned than understanding. "I'd better get going."

"Oh," Tim's half-formed protest died unspoken on his lips. "I guess I'll see you when I see you?"

"Yeah. Bye, Tim."

"Bye, Abby." As he hung up the phone, Tim felt like he was saying a permanent good-bye. Twice, he had rejected Abby's company. He had insulted and ignored Tony. While he hadn't done anything to Ziva, he still fizzed with embarrassment at the thought of actually being in her presence again. Who knew what she'd told Tony. He couldn't ever show his face again. "Great. Computers are my only friends." Tim sank onto a chair and sighed. He had done all this to himself. He knew it, but he didn't know how to fix any of it. His entire self-image had become corrupted by his dismissal, although that fact was only known subconsciously. All he really realized was that his life was a mess by his usually well-ordered standards.

Finally, Tim stood and glumly went to bed. There was no point in doing anything else.

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When Tim woke up the next morning, he looked miserably out the window at the beautiful day and knew that this would probably be the last time he saw the sun for the next three days. He now had a key to Sindhind Imports and he'd be working... frantically... and all alone.