Driving the Porsche into work this time was even better than the first time, he decided as he turned the engine off. Even the hassle of having to get a new parking pass- his had expired- hadn't killed the buzz. Before, the thrill of driving the car had come from being in control of something that powerful and responsive. Now, the thrill was because driving his car felt like... like freedom.
He got out of the vehicle and went around to the passenger side to retrieve his pack. He didn't really know why he kept bringing his pack with him- it was his field pack, after all-but habits died hard.
"Nice car."
The unfamiliar female voice made him straighten up in a hurry, cracking his head on the roof of the low slung car. He turned to see a blonde stranger surveying him. His first impression was her height; or lack of it. She would barely come up to his shoulder. She was also undeniably attractive.
"Sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."
He resisted the urge to rub at the spot where he'd hit his head, unwilling to look like any more of a fool in front of a total stranger. "It's fine. And thanks."
"You must be Agent McGee, am I right?"
"How did you know that?"
"The guys downstairs." He must have looked as bewildered as he felt. She gave him a small smile before continuing. "I'm Agent Shelley Frost; I work down in Cybercrimes. The guys down there described your car to me. They're rather in awe of you. Seems like you're one of the few agents that doesn't treat them like freaks."
"How long have you worked in Cybercrimes?"
"About 3 weeks now. Before that I was agent afloat on the Bunker Hill, out of-"
"San Diego" he finished. "I grew up in California." He grinned at her for a moment; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony's Mustang pulling into the lot. If Tony was in, he was close to being late. "I'd better go; it was good meeting you."
"Hopefully I'll catch you around."
He smiled at her again, catching her frankly admiring glance as he turned away. He knew that look. It surprised him that any woman could find him attractive; but the look had been unmistakeable. Today was shaping up to be a good day.
...
A few weeks later...
"I think we'll stop there today, Tim."
McGee let out the breath he'd been holding in a frustrated sigh. Today had not been a good day; for that matter, none of his physiotherapy session had been 'good days' for a while now.
"It's not getting any better, is it?" It was the question he'd been afraid to ask; now, he saw Steve, the physiotherapist, pause before responding and knew he had the answer he'd been dreading. "There's been no improvement for weeks."
"The word you want is plateau, Tim. There's a point with any injury as severe as yours where improvement seems to stop."
"So this is as good as it's going to get?"
"Maybe; maybe not. From now on, Tim, it's difficult to say. If you do get any more movement back from this point, it'll be slight."
...
He left the physiotherapist's office in a daze. He knew that his shoulder was better than he had any right to expect; but would it be good enough?
He got in his car and started it, pulling out of the lot without any destination in mind, and drove without conscious thought, his mind too busy going over the ramifications of the news he'd received.
"Your ID, sir?"
The voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Huh?"
"Your ID, sir." The MP was polite, but it was clear he was one step away from ordering McGee out of the car. He fumbled for the plastic card and showed it to the guard, then pulled into his accustomed parking space in the lot reserved for NCIS employees.
He didn't remember driving to the Yard; but now that he was here he may as well go in and see if the team needed his help with anything. They probably wouldn't-they were working yet another short case- but somehow he couldn't face the thought of going home right now.
They weren't in the bullpen. He sat down at his desk and pulled up the latest case file on his computer. Surely there was something he could do to distract himself. As he reached for a notepad to jot down some reminders to himself, an envelope addressed to him caught his eye. He ripped it open and drew out the single piece of paper it contained.
It seemed like some sort of cruel joke when he realised it was a notice to report to Ducky for his field agent physical.