Disclaimer: NCIS isn't mine, borrowed for fun and sport, but no profit.

A/N: Written in response to the flashfic challenge, "Influence."

Many thanks to Revanche for the editorial oversight and virtual shot in the arm...

FRIENDS

Timothy McGee arrived at work even earlier than usual, shined and ready, in a brand new, dark, serious suit and a tie that even Tony would approve. He pulled his backpack out of the car, giving it yet again another skeptical look – he'd toyed with the idea of bringing instead his expensive leather briefcase, a graduation present he'd used only two or three times, but he didn't want to be mistaken for a lawyer – hell, more importantly, he didn't want anyone in the federal courthouse to think that he was trying to look like a lawyer, or worse, to pass as one. Even he wasn't that pitiful.

There had to be a happy medium, he thought as he walked through the garage. Maybe a nice leather backpack, or a less formal computer bag, something professional without looking like a trial case. He passed the first elevator and went on back to the second, the one that would allow him to sneak down the back way to see Abby first and strut a little for her, with his shiny shoes and professional air. He knew she'd make a fuss over him and he needed to get it out of his system, so he wouldn't look quite so geeky in front of Tony.

But this was his first, and he was excited – the first time he'd be called as a witness, his testimony vital for establishing the chain of custody needed for the sizeable stash of meth, coke and other drugs found in the guy's storage locker. Without the chain of custody being made – without his testimony, to establish it – there would be an acquittal, and the defendant would walk. This one was a middleman in a big operation, and their bust not only helped break the local supply chain, at least for a time, it was direct payback, at least in Tim's eyes, for the local school kids hooked by the bastard as well as the Academy midshipmen who'd gone stupid and risked their careers by using during semester break. Here was a case that he finally got to see through the very end – closure even past the bust to actual jail time. A big day, he grinned to himself. Exactly what they'd promised him in the recruitment interview.

Abby had flattered and teased and buoyed him, as he knew she would – big-hearted Abby was as much as geek as he, and not only understood his excitement, but knew how he'd feel to have her proud of him, and she made sure he knew how she felt. He went on upstairs trying to squelch the glow, to be cool in front of Tony, professional in front of Gibbs. He had this case nailed and he'd help the prosecutor nail the perp. He knew exactly what he was doing and hoped they would be proud – because this time, he'd've earned it.

Coming into the bullpen, he saw Tony already standing at his desk in jeans and button down shirt, a breakfast burrito being gulped nearly whole over reports he was giving a final proofread. As Tim neared, he looked up at the sound and, seeing McGee, a big grin split his face. "First day on the witness stand, probie, you ready? Hey... nice tie..." he nodded, not waiting for the response to his question. "Looking good, McGee." McGee could swear that DiNozzo's face showed honest admiration for his appearance, and maybe even some pride in a team member, Tim dared to believe. It took everything in Timothy not to beam like a kid.

"Thanks," he said shortly. "They won't need me til this afternoon, though..." McGee came around his desk, dropped his backpack on the floor, and leaned in to turn on his computer.

"Well, then... you might want to take it off. Don't want to spill lunch on yourself."

McGee tried a glare but the look he got from DiNozzo made it impossible – it had been a good bust for all of them, and Tony was actually still smiling in support. All he could do was roll his eyes and smirk, hoping his voice had the right tone of distanced nonchalance. "I never quite had the problem with it that you do, Tony." He couldn't help dropping his eyes down toward Tony's shirt and nodding at an imaginary spot of salsa on the clean white linen blend.

DiNozzo had only enough time glance down, think about drawing a breath and open his mouth slightly before they heard the distinctive sound of Gibbs' pounding, angry stride as he appeared in the bullpen. His face was set in cold anger, and his eyes flashed up toward McGee in such ire that Tim paled, trying to decide what he possibly could have done to mess up so badly that he deserved that look.

But Gibbs didn't stop; instead, he hooked around toward his desk to jerk open a drawer and throw a file inside, slamming it loudly. "Stand down, McGee," he barked. "They don't need you."

DiNozzo's face suddenly sobered, a wary look of disbelief appearing. "Boss..."

"No, but..." McGee confused, stammered, "he'd never stipulate... and they can't make the case without the chain being made.."

"There's not gonna be a trial, McGee..."

Tony reacted visibly, his shoulders hunching forward slightly as he looked down at the desk. "Shit..." he muttered softly, under his breath.

"So no need for the monkey suit, Tim; go home and change. Hell, take the morning."

Gibbs' tone made McGee afraid to go anywhere at the moment, especially home, at oh-seven-hundred on a work day. What wasn't clear – other than what was going on – was whether it would be safer to graciously – and quietly – decline... or to not say anything at all...

"But a plea, Boss; right?" DiNozzo had looked back up to Gibbs, his expression one of some remaining hope. At the unblinking, hard stare he got in return, DiNozzo stared back for only the moment he needed to have it register. "Damn it," he spat, slapping the top of his desk in frustration. He said nothing else, fuming too now, staring back at nothing, before him.

But McGee stood rooted, still confused, that open-mouthed, brow-furrowed, puckered- lip look of disbelief he often wore that made him look like a five year old – albeit, now, a rattled one. Clearly DiNozzo had caught on to whatever had happened, but he was still in the dark – and not only was it his case ... but he wasn't all that sure yet that it wasn't his fault.

He had to know. Daring to poke the bear, he tried "Boss? What happened?"

Gibbs eyes swung back to find him, seeming to appraise him for the moment, before speaking. "Well, McGee... it seems as if your perp isn't just a scumbag... but a nephew. The nephew, in fact, of a certain senator, who is a long time 'fishin' and huntin' buddy' of the President." The sarcasm frosted the room, every surface; the air in the bullpen was as frozen as the moment. "So, with friends like that... and family connections... what's a little meth, in the grand scheme of things?"

McGee, not registering it all for his complete lack of anticipation of such an intercession, looked over to Tony, involuntarily, and saw that DiNozzo hadn't moved at all with the news – so he had guessed it, and it pissed Tony off as much as it had Gibbs. As it did him...

"So he gets off?" McGee asked, dumbfounded. The other men simultaneously, silently, remembered their own, similar awakening, and marveled how it didn't get that much easier, even after time and prior experience. "Boss... he did a lot of damage..." Tim reasoned.

"Yeah, McGee, I know; what do you suggest?" Gibbs' own anger made his exasperation more caustic than he wanted it to be, given the circumstances. He softened only slightly to add, "the DA's a political creature, too, and it's her discretion – she doesn't want it tried, there's no trial."

But Tim was just awaking to the implications – and the unfairness – of it all. "Well, if it's a senator – let his constituents know! And if he's from the President's 'law and order' state...or the DA; she's up for re-appointment next year..."

Gibbs was shaking his head. "Case has been sealed; no releases, no leaks, not a syllable to anyone, it's part of the package." Gibbs leveled his stare at McGee, and evaluated. "That's in stone, McGee. If anything gets out – and if I learn it came from you – you're history, you got that?"

"Yes, Boss."

There was a slight edge of defiance in the tone that Gibbs could hear through his own ire. Good – the agent had just learned another fact of life in the service of his country, and he clearly felt the same about it as did every law enforcement officer in every jurisdiction he'd ever encountered. Gibbs held his long glare at the younger agent for a few moments more, and finally relented, his eyes just as steely but his voice a shade softer, "You're good at what you do, McGee, and I don't want to lose you over some drug-pushing coward who got a walk because of Uncle Snuffy." He watched the younger man carefully to gauge his reactions. "I need you around to catch the ones without connections." He wavered, eyes boring into McGee's, and finally flicked them slightly with an unspoken question. Taking only the next moment, only long enough to see the answer in Tim's eyes that satisfied him, Gibbs moved off to head toward the staircase and MTAC. "Gotta go give Admiral Trask the good news."

McGee watched Gibbs jog upstairs as the man drew himself together to make the call to the senior commander at the Academy, who no doubt would be as pleased as they at the news. With a sigh, Tim stared at the floor for several long moments, to finally raise his eyes to look at DiNozzo's, where he saw the cooling indignation of one too long used to such influence, along with maybe just a little empathy for the probie. Tim frowned, sighed, and asked, "That won't be the last time, huh?"

Tony pursed his lips, shrugged, and sighed noisily, shaking his head. "Nope." He paused only a moment, then sat at his desk, pulling up toward the monitor, before looking back at McGee still standing there, unmoving. After his own moment of assessing the damage, DiNozzo leaned back in his chair, looking up at the newly seasoned agent, and a tiny curl appeared at the corner of his mouth. "But since you're not gonna need it..." he leaned forward a little, tipping his head and narrowing his eyes. "Can I have your tie?

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