JF4
Ducky entered the diner, alone. Spying Vance at the counter, the two men exchanged looks. Ducky shook his head no and Vance gave a quick nod. "Listen up, folks. On behalf of Tim, I want to thank you all for your continued support and understanding at this difficult time for him. However, he has reached his limit for today and has gone to rest. He has asked that you continue to enjoy your evening and thanks you again for coming with him and for being there for him, today. " Leon Vance announced to the gathered group of NCIS employees at the diner.
"Thank you, Director." Ducky said as the crowd gathered went back to their conversations. "Abigail in particular wouldn't have taken the news he wasn't coming in very well, it was better from you, than from me."
"Yes, that is why I offered. I am about to go and reiterate to her, the need for his privacy and his need to be alone, again. It's an important lesson for her and it bears repeating." Leon told him.
Tony felt awful, he had seen Vance snag Gibbs aside and when he looked outside and saw Tim bereft in his tears on the ground. He knew the younger man was feeling raw and wouldn't be able to come inside. Tony was still steamed up about what her parents had said at the memorial service, and he could only imagine how Tim was feeling about it, too. His heart ached for his friend, the man that now he looked out for and considered a little brother.
Tony figured Gibbs had taken him back to his place, especially since Tim still wasn't cleared to use any stairs and as much as he felt like he needed to comfort Tim and he wanted to be there for him. He knew that he would need to steer clear and give Tim his space. Tony remembered he had felt suffocated, like he couldn't breathe, on the day of his mother's funeral, and he imagined that Tim felt like that, right now.
Ellie had never lost anyone close to her and had felt awkward, she had been taking her cues from her husband, when he was around, or Tony. She definitely wouldn't infringe on Tim; she did not know what to say to him and didn't want to make him feel worse than he already was. But her heart hurt for her friend; she would be beside herself if she was ever in Tim's position.
Kelly decided to order some soup and a to go cup of coffee from Elaine, before heading to her apartment in Georgetown. Her dad wasn't there, nor was Tim, so she had no business hanging around.
At her apartment, she sat on her sofa enjoying her soup, her faithful and loyal Australian Shephard puppy, Sharni, at her feet and her TV on low. She ate in silence; her mind was racing a million miles a minute. She hadn't seen Tim yet today, but she wasn't surprised he couldn't muster the energy of the wake. On the day of her mother's funeral, by the time the wake had started, Kelly had changed into her old jeans, riding boots and a tee, snuck out the back door and was riding her bike down the street to run away from home when her grandpa had found her and bought her back home. Sharni was still a puppy, barely four months old and in that time, she had already proven she loved her mistress very much.
It was then that she realised, her father had bought Sharni because she was lonely and wondered if a dog wasn't the answer for Tim.
Gibbs helped Tim out of the car and helped him up the stairs into his apartment. Tim waved him off, telling him he had it from here, but Gibbs had glared at him. He had suspected that the young man hadn't eaten anything today and found a tin of baked beans in the cupboard and some bread in the freezer. He quickly warmed the beans and toasted the bread while Tim sat like a statue on the sofa, staring at the closed front door.
When the simple meal was cooked, he gently tried to garner Tim's attention to come and eat, to no avail.
Tim was kissing her again. Delilah had come over early and surprised him. She had done her hair and make-up done already. When she had found him in bed, napping, she had slipped off her short, silver cocktail dress that she had been wearing, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and she joined him in the bed.
Reaching for her, Tim kissed her softly, before laying her out beneath him, his lips firmly joining hers. Before he could fathom what was happening, she had rolled them over, her legs astride Tim's body, ridding him of his shorts. She began rubbing her hot wet sex against his hard length, teasing and tormenting him.
Tim blindly reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the strip of condoms he had been keeping there of late, tearing one from the strip. Passing it to her, she hurriedly ripped it open and rolled it down his hard length and slipped his penis inside her.
Grinding herself against him, he was not going to last long. It had been a long week and a half since they had made love last, and she had promised him a wild night if he could abstain from pleasuring himself.
He had managed to make her orgasm rather fast, before working them both into a frenzy. Just before he had been ready to climax, she had slipped ofh him, spying the time, with a chuckle.
They were going to be late. Hastily getting ready, she fixed her hair and lipstick the best she could.
As they were at the door, she stopped and slammed Tim into the door, her mouth thoroughly exploring his as her tongue slipped inside his.
This time it was him, he hoisted her into his arms, kissing her back. He slipped his hand under her dress, his fingers finding their way inside her. He lowered her back to the ground as pinned her to the door with one hand as he freed himself, palming the pocketed condom and dropping his tuxedo pants. Freeing himself, he rolled the condom on with one hand. Pushing inside her, he hoisted her back up as he thrust into her at a frenetic pace.
As he climaxed into his condom, he whispered in her ear huskily. "I'm not that easily manipulated, look who at who I work with."
He pulled himself out of her, and no words were said as they cleaned themselves up quickly with the tissues on the hall stand by the door. "You didn't get me there." she told him, sulkily.
"We're going to be late, but afterwards... Nothing's going to stop me from bringing you back here and making you a puddle of sated goo over and over again until you forget your own name."
"The last time we were together, it was right by that door before we left. I'd taken a minute, I had been prepared, we were going to celebrate when we came back here, later that night." Tim whispered, admitting out loud to himself, still not registering Gibbs' presence.
Gibbs said nothing. What could he say to that. Tim didn't even realise he was still there. He had watched the memory flash across his face. Tim was always a private person, but he knew that look. There weren't many times he had seen it on Tim's face, even less when he had seen it on his own face.
"Gibbs?" Tim realised he wasn't alone in the room. His face blushing red in embarrassment at what he had done. Then he felt awful, he had never denied a lady pleasure before, but it had been a game she had started playing and he hadn't enjoyed it at first, but had finally caved, sexually frustrated at her. A moment of weakness he would always regret. "You probably didn't need to know that, sorry."
"Know what, Tim?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "I didn't hear you from over here. Now come have something to eat and I'll leave you be." Gibbs instructed him, encouraging him to put some food in his belly.
The two men ate in silence and Gibbs urged him to go into his room, that he would tidy up the kitchen before he left.
Gibbs tidied the kitchen and pottered around in the kitchen. He didn't know what Tim was doing in his bedroom, he had firmly closed the door behind him but there wasn't any sound coming from his bedroom. He walked over to the bookshelf that divided the living room from his desk and computer.
He spied a copy of Tim's Deep Six novel there, knowing the other books and texts held little to no appeal, he plucked it off the shelf and settled into Tim's plush sofa. Slipping his shoes off, he tucked his feet under him and settled in, just in case Tim changed his mind about being alone. As he begun to re-read Tim's novel, he imagined what Tim would have been like, writing Deep Six back then.
He imagined Tim coming in from a hard day, being the butt of Tony's practical jokes all day. As Tim settled in behind his desk that looked as if it definitely needed some TLC and Gibbs wondered what the story was behind the beautiful, antique mahogany desk that looked out place in the cluttered room of modern furnishings. He pictured Tim clacking away on the old Olivetti studio 44 typewriter that sat at the end of his desk, covered with a plastic cover, his record player on the back wall playing one of those soothing jazz records on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. Shredding the pages, he knew wouldn't make the final cut and filing away his character studies in case he needed to reference them again.
Or maybe on that particular day, Tim had been stressed and everyone and everything had bothered him. Maybe it was a day that Abby had treated him like a pet instead of a person, or maybe Abby was pissed at him for not accompanying her to a concert. Or the case hadn't turned out the way he had hoped. He could just picture Tim as he came home and emotionally unloaded on to the typewriter, shredding his most private thoughts to make sure they never saw the light of day when he was done.
A noise from Tim's bedroom startled him out of his imaginings and he padded over to Tim's closed bedroom door. He heard body wracked sobs and Gibbs held onto his heart, resisting the urge to comfort him. He knew exactly how he would find Tim if he opened the door. He would be face down, hugging her pillow, inhaling her scent off the pillow as his body rid itself of its tears. Gibbs knew from painful experience that Tim needed to move past this at his own speed and he needed to do it alone, without an audience.
Truthfully, the only reason Gibbs was here; besides worrying about Tim on the stairs was, he was worried Tim would try to do something drastic. He didn't expect Tim to do anything like that, but crazy things have been done in the name of grief. Gibbs wished someone had of watched over him like that, then he wouldn't know what gun oil tastes like.
Gibbs woke with a start. It was his cell phone vibrating and under normal circumstances he would have answered it. After checking the caller ID, he let the call go through to his voicemail.
He fired a text to Ducky, the caller, that he was busy and would call soon. Looking around the room, he saw it was daylight, not the early morning rays of daylight, but fully daylight. Looking at the clock on the wall he saw it was almost 10 and couldn't believe he had slept so late. Tim's sofa had been every bit as comfortable as his own and he'd slept solidly.
He heard the shower running and smiled. A bit of normality, that was what Rachel said Tim needed. He wondered if Tim even realised, he had stayed the night. "Mornin'" Gibbs greeted him with a small smile as Tim came into the living room, fully dressed, except his bare feet, carrying a box of things.
"Morning. I left you enough hot water if you want to grab a shower." Tim told him as he closed up the box with packing tape. "Towels are in the hall closet, help yourself. Then, I'm going to introduce you to a cafe that is going to make you some blackberry waffles that are going to change your life."
Gibbs grinned at him, he was seeing a glimpse of the old Tim. The Tim that saw the world as the glass half full. "I'll just run downstairs and grab my go bag from the car. Don't go anywhere." he warned the younger man. He didn't want Tim trying to navigate the stairs yet, he knew Tim's ribs weren't ready yet.
Returning from the agency sedan that had been parked in the guest lot all night, he made quick work of a shower and slipped into a fresh pair of jeans and a tee. Looking around Tim's room, he noticed the room had been straightened up. The bed was made perfectly, the closet was tidied. Delilah's clothing and toiletries had been removed from the room and Gibbs had a gut feeling that was what Tim had boxed up this morning and bought out into the kitchen.
Back in the kitchen, Tim had stacked the box by the door and was hastily scribbling down something in an old notebook, the kind used at school. "Thanks for the shower." Gibbs said as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.
"Can you help me with something?" Tim suddenly asked him. He was looking at Gibbs and he just knew; out of everyone Gibbs would be able to help him the most. "Take me to the UPS depot. That's what's left of Delilah's things, I think she'd like her sister to have them. It's just some clothes, her earrings and a bottle of perfume."
"Sure, if that's what you really want." Gibbs figured this was a positive step. It had taken himself a long time to get rid of Shannon's clothes and he knew that Leon still had a couple of things that were Jackie's. But it was slightly different with Tim, sure he and Delilah were lovers, but they hadn't been together long term and weren't married either, they hadn't even lived together. It didn't mean that the grief Tim felt wasn't real. He just suspected that some tasks, like boxing up belongings would be easier for him.
"I think it's for the best. I know if they're here, I'll slip back into that despair from last night. I can't let myself go there again." Tim said vehemently. "I won't let myself. As for my recovery, if it's ok with you, could I continue to stay with you until I am cleared for staying by myself and using the stairs? Then I will return here and hopefully I'll be allowed back to work, for desk duty at least."
"Sounds like a plan, Tim." Gibbs grinned at him and patted him on the back. "For now, can I suggest we get a wriggle on? I believe you promised me blackberry waffles that would change my life."
Gibbs noticed throughout the rest of the day that Tim's new attitude barely faltered and as promised, those waffles were the best he had ever eaten. After the diner, Tim asked Gibbs to take him to the market so he could pick up a few things for dinner. Tim, unlike Gibbs could not live on steak and potatoes alone.
As soon as they were home from the market, Tim began preparing some chicken for dinner. "Dinner time is a fair way off yet." Gibbs commented as he watched his agent slice into the chicken breasts and slice up the lemon and crush cloves of garlic. With the left-over Lemon, he juiced it, pulp and all.
"I am aware of that, Gibbs. But the chicken needs to marinate in the herbs, garlic and lemon juice for a few hours for the best possible flavour." Gibbs was a little concerned. The only kind of chicken he had ever eaten had been a couple of those dry, rubbery chicken dinners at luncheons, a formal dinner, or at wedding receptions. He was a red meat man and always tried to opt to have the meat. "Relax, it's a simple meal and I promise that you will like it."
Gibbs poured them both a coffee and watched as Tim continued in the kitchen, thinly slicing onion and potatoes before making a mixture of a few different herbs, milk, cream and cheese and layering it all together in a baking dish. He refilled his mug as he watched Tim lay some parchment paper on a cookie tray and lay some asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, some carrots, zucchini, peppers and some yellow squash and season them with some cracked pepper. "Are you some kind of gourmet chef, McGee? This is the fanciest meal this kitchen has ever had cooked in it." Gibbs said, grinning at his agent as Tim sliced up a head of broccoli for steaming.
"Definitely not." He huffed at his boss. "I started out small, took a couple of lessons with Ziva at the community centre. I enjoyed it so much and I was learning about nutrition as I lost all that weight and I decided to take an advanced cooking class. Then Ziva and I would alternate Friday night dinner at each other's place, trying to outcook one another."
"How did I not know this?" Gibbs mused out loud. and Tim grinned at him.
"Oh, we just never said anything. We had Ducky over for once, as he had driven Ziva home from work. We swore him to secrecy, and we always kept our plans to ourselves. Could you imagine Tony's reaction if he had of known back then?"
'They'd never have heard the end of it.' Gibbs thought to himself. 'No doubt there would be some sort of derogatory name calling or put down for Tim, a rumour or innuendo for Tim, from Tony, to go along with it. So, it had been safer for both of them, that they had kept it to themselves. Then of course, Ziva would have threatened Tony with bodily harm for his actions on Tim.' "I see your point." Gibbs mused as he refilled Tim's mug and encouraged him to relax now that he had finished prepping their dinner.
Later that afternoon, Gibbs sat in the waiting room, while Tim was in with the doctor at the follow up clinic at Washington Memorial Hospital. He had picked up a magazine but was barely skimming the pages of it when an interesting article caught his eye. It was about philanthropic contributions that authors make to society and this particular article mentioned a scholarship fund that was set up at Georgetown University by the Gemcity Foundation and Gibbs wondered if that Gemcity Foundation was his agent, Gemcity. Upon reading further, Lyndi Crenshaw, who was Tim's publicist had crowed that the scholarship was awarded to one student who showed academic potential, an interest in literature and was actively engaged with civic contributions to the community.
Gibbs had been wowed by what he had read. Tim obviously wasn't lying when he said he wasn't frivolous, and he wondered what his daughter thought of Tim's newest project. He skimmed a few more pages, before putting the magazine back down on the table. It wasn't until Gibbs was lowering the magazine the date caught his eye and he realised the magazine was several years old. The Gemcity Foundation had been around for a while.
Before he could pick up another magazine, he saw Tim coming towards him. The look on his face was not a happy look. "Tim?" he asked, looking at him carefully.
The doctor came trailing behind out to him. "Tim, we're not finished..."
"Yes, we are!" Tim growled, imitating his boss.
"Tim, you need to rest your ribs and recuperate at home. I can't have you chasing down suspects and grappling with your co-workers in the gym."
"At home?" he asked, incredulously. "By home, you mean my apartment? The one where my girlfriend and I would spend all our free time together? No thank you!" Tim was snappy and moody. He had been having a good day, up until now.
"Tim?" Gibbs asked, surprised. "Talk to me!" He wasn't above begging his younger agent in this very moment.
"I hate it there!" Tim said loudly and forcefully. "Everything reminds me of her." he cried, the tears slipping down his face.
"I know, son. I know." Gibbs soothed him as he pulled Tim closer, into a comforting hug. "You can stay with me as long as you like. No one's going to force you to go home."
"Don't make me go back there ... Gibbs, please?" Tim pleaded with him.
"No one's going to force you to go back there." Gibbs reiterated to him.
"Let me go back to work. I just want to go back to work." he told his boss softly, in a begging tone of voice.
"Sorry, Tim." Gibbs said softly. "I can't have you there like this."
"You know I can do my job." Tim argued. He didn't want to be seen as the weak link of his team. He just wanted to get back to normal.
"You're more important than the job." Gibbs told him truthfully.
"No, I'm not." he denied.
Gibbs internally growled, when had his meek and mild-mannered probationary agent gotten so stubborn. He certainly didn't find it amusing that Tim's stubborn streak now resembled his own, too much.
"Because it should have been you, instead of her?" Gibbs bit out angrily; he was frustrated that Tim was choosing to be stubborn about this. "You couldn't have known."
"Parsa was my job" Tim supplied to his boss.
"Our job, Tim... Our job! Not yours, ours! We tried like hell to know in time, but we didn't." Gibbs fired back at him.
"I didn't get to say goodbye." Tim whispered to Gibbs.
The young doctor felt awful, he had treated so many patients from the attack on the Conrad gala, working overtime and following up with as many as possible. When he had followed up with the NCIS agent involved in the attack, he had forgotten that this agent had lost his girlfriend in the attack. His kind, empathetic heart had been in his throat, and he had lost his words.
"It's OK, Tim." the doctor told him. "Go home with your friend here and take your time. Have the session with the crisis counsellor. Just take one day at a time and I will see you at the same time, a week from today."
"Thanks, Doc." Gibbs said, as he ushered Tim out of the waiting room and towards his yellow challenger in the parking lot.
Tuesday evening, on Kelly's way home from work, she had to stop by her father's house. She had a business lunch and needed her black triangular ballet flat shoes from her room. She hated wearing them, but she was going to the Rooftop Bar and Grill at the Kennedy Centre with the board and one of the executives hated the sound that her stiletto heels made on the marble floor of the lobby.
"Dad?" she called out as she let herself in the house.
Voices travelled from deep in the back of the house. When she fully entered the room, she was amazed with the delicious aroma of the food coming from her dad's kitchen and it wasn't the aroma of food her dad had cooked before.
"Hey." Tim smiled at her and nodded as her dad greeted her and kissed her cheek. "What are you doing here? And on a Tuesday night? Is everything OK?"
"Need those god-awful shoes. What's Tim cooking? It smells delicious." she asked, making a show of sniffing the air.
"Grilled Lemon and Garlic chicken, scalloped potato bake, baked vegetables and steamed broccoli." Tim answered her. "Want to stay? There's plenty of food." Tim told her, encouragingly.
Kelly had been nothing but nice and supportive of him, practically a stranger to her and he'd like to show her his appreciation. Plus, she looked exhausted, and a good meal would certainly make her night more relaxed.
At her dad's encouraging grin, she delightfully accepted. She stepped into the kitchen, to offer her services and Tim manoeuvred her back around the other side of the island bench, beside Gibbs to wait as he checked on the progress of the potatoes and vegetables first. When they were almost done, he would heat the griddle pan, when it was hot, he'd coat the pan with olive oil spray and cook the chicken fillets, searing the chicken breast as he grilled it.
Kelly and Gibbs set the rarely used dining room table and Tim bought in the assortment of food he had prepared for dinner. "This is an impressive feat, Tim." Kelly praised him. "Dad, no offense. But I don't know any man that knows how to cook like this."
"None taken." Gibbs grumbled good naturedly. "Tim, you can't cook in my kitchen very often though, especially meals like this." Gibbs hurriedly said between the first and second bite of food. "My kitchen is going to get a complex; thinking it can be used like this every night. My fireplace will get jealous."
"Ah, thanks ... I think." Tim said with a dry laugh.
"Kelly's a pretty good cook and you might just be better than her." Gibbs told him with a wink as he helped himself to seconds of everything.
"Gee thanks, Dad." she playfully grumbled. "Oh, before I forget, can I please leave Sharni here for the day tomorrow? Her doggy sitter's kid broke his arm at school and is having surgery to have a pin put in it."
"Should be fine, but it's up to Tim. He's the one who will be here with her." Gibbs decided, he couldn't see Tim having a problem with her. "She's such a good dog."
"Tim?" She asked him, her voice soft and sweet.
"How big of a dog are we talking?" Tim asked and he was surprised. He didn't know she had a dog.
"She's a four-month-old Australian Shepard, she's small for her age though. She was the runt of the litter; Dad got her for me." Kelly explained to Tim, hoping he wouldn't mind.
Tim smiled widely. "Australian Shepard, hey?" he asked Gibbs with a grin.
"What can I say? They're working dogs." her father answered, and the two men laughed out loud at his answer.
Kelly looked at the two of them with an incredulous look on her face. Clearly it was an inside joke and when Tim finally controlled his laughter, he told her it would be fine, making sure not to catch Gibbs' eye again.
"Tim used to have a German Shepard named Jethro, he's really good with dogs." Gibbs reassured his daughter.
"Is he named after dad?" she jested, but the two men suddenly sobered up.
"Abby named him, not me." Tim explained succinctly. "He was an old dog, a US Navy Drug Detection dog, ready to retire. He was involved in a case. He jumped through a door and attacked me. I shot him in self-defence, just a graze, really. Abby bullied her way into me adopting him and he died eight months later. He had an undetected heart condition."
"That's awful, Tim. You have the heart of a hero to take in the dog that attacked you." Kelly told him. She could see the scars on his arm and on his neck, still. Both partially covered by clothes, but still visible.
"It took us a little while to adjust to one another and one day we just... clicked. All of a sudden he was my best friend."
Gibbs grinned behind his mug, somewhere in between the telling of that story he saw a little glimmer between them. He didn't want Kelly to get hurt, especially now he knew that she had a high opinion of him.
But Gibbs also knew Tim would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially a woman. He also liked that he could see a glimmer of that spark he had seen when they'd first met.