Disclaimer: I own nothing but the typos. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, followed and left a review.
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Sitting in the director's office, Tim stares at the bloodied hands on his knees. They don't even feel like they belong to him anymore. He feels like a kid sent to the principal's office. And the only reason he knows how that feels because in seventh grade, Joshua Hartley stole his science fair project and, somehow, turned a baking soda volcano into a schoolwide stink bomb. He ended up in the same situation as now, guilty by association, guilty until proven innocent, wrong place at the wrong time.
I wonder if this is how our suspects feel.
Tony and Gibbs flank him, both staring daggers at the other. If Tim raises his head by even an inch, he is afraid he'll take one to the temple. He can feel the anger rolling off them in waves.
The blood stopped dripping from his nose, but he never had a chance to wash his hands before the director pulled them into her office. It dried, tacky and stuck deep in the grooves of his knuckles. It adhered to the skin above his lip too and it itches fiercely, but he doesn't scratch it. Any sudden movements and he could be smack dab in the middle of another brawl. His nose burns like hell and he hopes it isn't broken. Within the next day or so, he'll probably end up with double-black eyes.
"Gentlemen," Jenny Shepard snaps.
Tim pulls a deep inhale through his mouth. The taste of old blood makes him gag. His hands tighten around his pant legs, the blood on his skin cracking. His khakis are ruined now, covered in a combination of blood and snot and whatever else leaked out of his face. His shirt and tie are a lost cause to. His career? That might be too at this point.
"I can't believe you three." Her tone conveys murder is at the top of the punishment list.
Shepard paces around the office like a lioness on the prowl. Her heels grind against the carpet. Her arms are crossed tight against her chest, her gaze focused mostly on Gibbs. If she could figure out a place to dump their bodies, Tim knows they wouldn't be walking out of here alive. And if she gets rid of the MCRT, there wouldn't be anyone to investigate their murder.
"Fighting on the floor? What were you thinking?" She works her hands into fists before hugging them to her chest again. "That's right, you didn't. What is wrong with you?" She throws her hands up as she gives Gibbs a death glare. "Nevermind, don't answer that. I already know the answer. Look, I demand a certain decorum in my office like my best agents not going ten rounds with each other in the building."
Tim's knuckles go white against his pant leg. He should tell her what happened—how he wasn't really part of the fight and he was just kind of there—but he clamps his lips shut before the words tumble out. Suddenly, he can't breathe, and he opens his mouth again, panting. He hazards a glance at Tony. With his eyes narrowed at Gibbs, Tony appears to be only seconds away from pointing an accusing finger and shouting, Well, he started it.
If someone asked him, Tim might agree with Tony. How many head slaps are they supposed to endure before one of them cracks? How does a whack to the back of the head keep them focused on their case? The task at hand? It shouldn't feel normal…should it?
Shepard started up again. "And yet, here you are acting like children. Should I ship the three of you back to grade school? No, I think actual children are better behaved than you. Maybe I should recruit some kindergartners to take over your jobs." She releases an infuriated huff. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
Tim resumes staring at his hands and trying to determine what bodily fluids are all over his pants. He'll could Abby Scuito for her help in sorting them out.
Tony opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. He brings his right hand up, working his fist as though testing to ensure the bones aren't broken. Then, he runs it through his hair. His eyes rove the ceiling.
Only Gibbs is crazy enough to take on Shepard.
"I wasn't planning on getting punched, Jen," he says, matter-of-factly.
She crooks an eyebrow at him. A challenge. "And you felt the need to finish it, Agent Gibbs?"
He tilts his head as though he is bored. "I never back down. You know that."
"You're team lead. Supervisory Senior Agent." She shakes her head, obviously disappointed. "If you need to fight it out with someone, do it on your own damn time."
Gibbs shifts in the chair. His back is ramrod straight, his expression further darkening as he glares down Shepard. If it bothers her, she doesn't flinch. Instead, she lasers her attention on Tony. While she speaks to all of them, she keeps her attention on him.
"I expected better from you," she says before launching into a speech about how she's disappointed in all of them. How they are the stars of NCIS and shouldn't be acting like kids on a playground. Tim is only half-listening because his nose is throbbing.
He wonders if he should interject and explain that he wasn't really involved, he was just a witness after all. Maybe he can escape her wrath if he can just explain what happened and how he ended up in the middle of the fight. He raises his hand in a one-minute gesture to call for her attention.
"I'll get to you, Agent McGee," she barks.
Flinching violently, he returns to trying to be invisible. A change in tactic is better anyway. If he can just blend into the furniture until it's all over, maybe he'll escape without getting fired or reassigned to NCIS Great Lakes in time for winter.
Shepard is on a roll now. "A fight on the HQ floor is bad enough, but one involving my MCRT. The best team my agency has. What were you thinking? I'm disappointed. I'm angry. You should be acting better." She narrows her eyes again. "All of you."
Tony throws his hands out and growls, "I was talking to Agent McGee when Gibbs hit me on the back of the head. I may have overstepped, but I assumed it was an act of aggression."
Shepard freezes, mid-step. When she pivots to stare at Gibbs, her face can only be described as purple. The muscles of her body are taunt and tight, ready to pounce on Gibbs at a moment's notice. Tim subconsciously leans towards Tony because he already has enough blood on his clothes.
Gibbs subtlety lifts his chin, challenging her.
"Can you repeat that, Agent DiNozzo?" Rage simmers in her voice.
"Gibbs hit me on the back of the head." Clearing his throat, Tony rubs at the base of his neck. "I mean, I kinda forgot he did it. He does it to help us regroup or…" His voice trails off.
"Did I hear Agent DiNozzo correctly, Gibbs?" Shepard growls through clenched teeth.
Nonplussed, Gibbs leans back in his chair. "Everyone needs a smack upside the head sometimes."
Shepard's mouth falls open.
Gibbs shrugs. "Especially DiNozzo."
Setting his jaw, Tim looks away towards the conference room. Three Scotch glasses sit, half-full and abandoned on it. Apparently, their fight interrupted some schmooze fest.
Shepard steeples her hands against her lips, her cheeks going even more purple. "Let me get this straight, Gibbs and feel free to correct me when I make a mistake." She lets the silence hang for a long beat. "Agent DiNozzo was conferring with Agent McGee and you…you struck him. Did I understand that correctly?"
Gibbs shrugs with one shoulder. "He was harassing McGee and needed to get back to work."
Shepard's eyes find Tim, who up until that point was doing a fine job of not existing if he does say so himself. Suddenly, all eyes are on him, expectant and anxious. It feels as though all the air is sucked out of the room. Pulling in a breath, he chokes on it.
"Is that true, Agent McGee?" Shepard asks.
Tim clears his throat, catching on the sour, metallic tase of old blood. He manages a small smile, and it feels as though his face might rip in half. The skin is tight and beginning to swell. Groaning, he shoves the palm of his hand against his nose.
"I wouldn't say Agent DiNozzo was harassing me." His voice is nasal and weak. "Maybe annoying me? Bothering?" Tony shoots him a dangerous look. "Pestering might be a good word. Um, yeah. Tony was pestering me about…you know, I can't even remember anymore. It probably wasn't important."
Shepard opens her mouth before closing it as though she doesn't know quite what to say. Crossing her arms, she resumes her pacing. It's slow with each foot fall heavy against the carpet. An executioner's walk as she decides what to do with them. Tim watches her go back and forth from one side of the desk and back again. Over and over. It makes him seasick.
"Just so we're clear, you two – " she gestures between Tim and Tony " – were talking and Agent Gibbs hit you." When she points at Tony, he nods. After checking with Gibbs, Tim nods a few seconds later. "Then everyone got into a fight."
Tim holds up his index finger as he interjects, "Not me. I wasn't really in the fight. I was trying to break it up when Gibbs punched me."
And that's when Shepard's face turns colors that Tim can't even describe. Purple and red with maybe a tinge of green and black in there too. She physically bites her lip hard enough for it go stark white against her colorful face. She resembles a monster from a low budget horror movie. She holds her hands up to Gibbs as though she might slap him, but she backs away with them raised to her shoulders.
"Let me get this straight, Agent Gibbs. You hit both of your agents today." Her voice is flat, ominous and downright creepy. "I understand the transition back has been difficult, but – "
"McGee was in the way," Gibbs says as though that makes it better. As though it is better that the punch was intended for Tony instead of him.
Shepard's look is baleful. "I understood there would be some tension when you returned to your team, Gibbs. You assured me there'd be no problems. You assured me that you could handle it." She flicks her fingers between Tim and Tony. "That they could handle it."
Gibbs climbs to his feet. "They can and they will."
Now, it's Tony's turn to stand. His left eye is swollen shut and his upper lip split. There's blood all over his white shirt, but his black suit still looks clean. Now, Tim understands why Tony prefers black and navy. Blood isn't as noticeable as it is on his khaki pants.
Tony throws his hands out and he turns to Gibbs. His cheeks grow scarlet. "You can't just waltz in and out whenever you want, Gibbs. It doesn't work that way. It's not fair to us." He shakes his head, weakly pointing at his own chest. "It isn't fair to me."
Gibbs squares his shoulders. "You want fair, DiNozzo? Then get your own team."
Tony kicks at his chair, sending it tumbling over. Tim balks at the sudden act. He debates about hunkering down behind Shepard's desk until the meeting is over.
"I had my own team!" Tony yells. "I turned it down! For you!" Then he says, softer: "I stayed for you."
Tony points his index finger right in Gibbs' face and to his credit, the older man takes a step backwards. Tim slides his chair back a few inches because he's been in enough fights today. Before his very eyes, Gibbs seems to wilt. In that moment, he looks older than he ever has.
He turns to Shepard, incredulous. "That true, Jen?"
Her only response is a one-shouldered shrug.
Tony hugs his arms to his chest, turning away. His shoulders are slouching now. "I was going to be SSA of a team in Coronado, Boss. It wasn't a Major Crimes team, but it would've been mine."
"I didn't ask you to stay, Tony," Gibbs says.
Tim cranes his neck forward, shocked. If he could remember—and sure, that punch did scramble his brain—he was certain that Gibbs did ask Tony to take over the team. Right before he walked out on them, Gibbs handed the reins over to Tony with little warning and no fanfare. And after that, Tony did his absolute best to run the team to the best of his ability. Without head slaps and thinly veiled threats and Gibbs' powers of persuasion. He never really thought about it until right now, but he appreciated being a part of Tony's team. Dare he say, he enjoyed it even more than being on Gibbs'.
Tony smiles mirthlessly. "You're right, Gibbs. You didn't ask. You told me to."
Gibbs doesn't reply and Tony ends the conversation with a clipped nod.
He looks over at Shepard. "In light of recent events, Director, I'm ready for a transfer. A real transfer."
Shepard presses her lips together. "I'll review the openings and notify you shortly."
Tony nods resolutely. "Thank you."
When she surveys them, Shepard's expression is disheartened. "Agents DiNozzo and McGee, you both are suspended without pay for two weeks for fighting in the office." Tim starts to protest that he wasn't part of it, but she holds up her hand to silence him. "I'm sorry, Agent McGee, but you and Agent DiNozzo need to be the example. I need to show the agency this kind of behavior is unacceptable." Her eyes find Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, you are suspended until further notice pending a review of today's events. I'll need your badges and weapons before you leave today."
The only expression on Gibbs' face is a small smirk, satisfied and content. As though he won whatever pissing match he and Tony just had. And maybe he did because he ran off one of the few people who ever challenged him. Tim doesn't know how he is supposed to feel in this moment.
Without looking at anyone, Tony starts to leave.
Leaning forward in his chair, Tim's eyes land on Tony's retreating form. Once Tony leaves the building, Tim knows they'll never see each other again. Tony will likely transfer without returning or throw his resume into the alphabet soup of government agencies.
Before he can stop himself, Tim starts, "Tony…"
Shepard tilts her head. "Is something on your mind, Agent McGee?"
When Tim opens his mouth, Tony turns back. His face is unreadable, his eyes glinting like knives. Tony has never looked at him like that before. Like Tim could be a murder suspect on the wrong end of Tony's malice. Tim swallows hard.
Shepard asked him what was on his mind. He can't find the words to express how he is feeling because he doesn't know. There should be something, but there is a gaping black hole where his entire brain should be. All he knows it that he can't go back because head slaps and fistfights and pissing matches aren't normal. And he doesn't want to go back to a team where they are.
Tim clears his throat before whispering, "Do I have to return to Agent Gibbs' team, ma'am?"
As soon as the words escape, Tim can't believe he said them, let alone thought them. He wishes he could shove them back down and bury them somewhere they'd never be found. But at the same time, he doesn't know if he'll survive Team Gibbs without Tony at the helm to temper their leader.
When she looks at Tim—actually looks at him—Shepard's expression softens. She sees him as a child, the probationary agent, the baby of the team, just the way everyone else does.
"Not if you don't want to," she says gently.
At that, Gibbs lets out an actual growl, low and menacing like a wounded animal. He storms out of the room, slamming into Tony's shoulder on the way out. Tony doesn't back down, instead just lets Gibbs shove him to the side. He slips back into the office, face folded into a question.
Tony narrows his eyes. "And what makes you think I'd want you on my team, McGee?"