Challenge word 3: lock picking
Finally. Tim finally was getting the chance for revenge. Revenge against Tony and every stupid time he'd decided that Tim's privacy didn't matter.
Ziva had been helping Tim with a few techniques and now he was fully capable of picking a lock with almost anything. Granted, he'd rather have his little lockpicking kit, but now Tim certainly didn't need it.
To celebrate this helpful addition to his qualifications for law enforcement, Tim was going to break into a coworker's home. Sure, it sounded bad, but considering the number of times Tony barged into his apartment or read his emails or just called him 'McSomethingImmature', Tony definitely had it coming.
Besides, Tim reasoned as he pulled up outside Tony's building, it would be good practice to see if he could pick the lock quickly and quietly. That was assuming, of course, that Tony would be inside to hear the noise. It was Saturday night and Tim assumed Tony would be out on the town with some ridiculously young woman on his arm—probably still an undergraduate. There was playboy, and then there was bordering on illegal. Tony fit into that latter grouping.
Tim made his way up the stairs and paused outside the door, collecting himself. He'd just move some stuff around, freak Tony out. Nothing major, but if Tony was a good enough detective like he bragged, he'd notice things were different. And if Tim happened to see anything incriminating or embarrassing, well then, that was just a nice little coincidence.
Quickly getting down to one knee, McGee reached into his wallet and grabbed the little paperclip he'd shoved in there. He bent in and twisted it into the door's keyhole. In an amount of time that would make Ziva proud, Tim felt the lock give a small 'click' and he twisted the door handle and pushed his way in.
Tim expected to see the sofa. Tim expected to see the flat screen TV monopolize almost the entire south wall of the living room.
Tim did not expect, but wasn't too surprised, to see Tony home on a Saturday night. Hell, Tim did not expect, but wasn't even too surprised, to see Tony leaning up against the wall with his pants around his ankles about to come from a blowjob.
But Tim had no mental preparation for what came into his line of vision as his eyes trailed down from their connection with Tony's shocked eyes to his hands gripping the head of a silver-haired man. On his knees. With Tony's penis deep in his mouth.
Tim, still hanging onto the doorknob, pulled it towards him and slammed it shut. He began to quickly walk away from the apartment. Towards the stairs, towards the fresh air, need to breathe, need to breathe…He just saw Tony's boss—his own boss—the boss of all bosses—on his knees deep throating another guy.
Way too many questions, way too many concerns, and way too many images Tim needed out of his head now.
"McGee! Hey, Probie, stop. I know its you, you idiotic McBurglar." Almost down the finals set of steps, Tim reluctantly stopped and turned to see Tony hurrying to catch up. The senior field agent's face was red, although whether that was from running, embarrassment, or his previous activities, Tim didn't want to know. The jeans Tony was wearing didn't exactly hide the fact he hadn't finished and Tim struggled to find somewhere to look that didn't make him queasy, embarrassed, nervous.
"Look, Tony, uh…I'm really sorry. Just, you know, practicing lockpicking with Ziva and—"
"Ziva's here too?!" Tony looked panicked.
"No, I was just practicing by myself tonight…"
"On my door."
"Well, you've done worse to me!" Tim said rather petulantly.
"Yeah, well, this'll teach you top stop and think, won't it, Timmyboy?"
"Tony…" Tim sighed, how could Tony be joking? But glancing up at Tony he quickly realized he'd switched approaches.
"Look, Tim, just…don't say anything. Please? Really, this is really important…just don't let anyone know…"
"Tony, I-I wouldn't say a word. Of course."
"Okay," Tony nodded nervously. "Just, that would really ruin things. Especially at work, but probably at home too…we haven't exactly talked much about...shit, just don't say anything."
"Yeah, sure…listen, Tony, is Gibbs mad at me? I mean, obviously yeah, but how mad? He saw me, right?"
Tony blushed and waggled his eyebrows suggestively in typical oversexed DiNozzo fashion. "Yeah, but, um, your not the one he's mad at for running out of the room. Gotta go back and um…you know what? You want to find out what I have to go back for, you just pick your way back in, McVoyeur"
Alone on the stairs, Tim vowed never to pick a lock quickly or quietly ever again.
Yeah, I suck at updating. Tell me something I don't know…like how much you enjoyed reading it!?!?
