Chapter 1

Opening Phoof: Tim, alone in the bullpen. The boss released the team a couple of hours ago and Tony & Ziva are long gone. Gibbs returns from a coffee run and notices his agent still seems to be working on something.

"McGee! I thought I told you all to leave hours ago. You still working?"

"No Boss. I needed to look up something in the HR manual, thought I'd do it from here rather than home."

"Tim…something you want to talk about?"

"Maybe, Boss, now that I've seen what's available. " He continues as Gibbs joins him at his workstation, Tim turns in his chair to face him. "You know my dad and I have been working on things, but we've been so busy here and I just haven't had much time. " At Gibbs' raised eyebrow, Tim gives a small huff, "I know, pretty "Cat's in the Cradle" ironic, huh Boss? The thing is, his health is deteriorating and I've been thinking that as ironic as it is, I do need – and want - to spend more time with him. Even though he's the one that hasn't wanted to be with me, couldn't make the time, couldn't be bothered." He paused. "It's different for me, Boss, as many years as we've been estranged because of his attitude, I'm going to have to live the rest of my life with whatever I can make of this now and I'm not the same as him, I can't just put this aside. Does that make sense?"

Gibbs looks him in the eye. He sees this young man, grown from the green probie into a strong confident agent, a man who, no matter what the personal cost, is determined to do right by his formerly disrespectful and emotionally abusive father. He knows that part of what is driving Tim, aside from the obvious, is the recent death of Ziva's father. Eli David left reconciliation, redemption, too late and there is no more chance for them. He thinks of his mostly successful reconciliation with Jackson and Tony's tentative progress with his father and realizes there is no other choice for Tim. Putting his hand on Tim's shoulder, he gives him a nod and says, "Yeah, Tim, it makes sense. And I think I see where you're headed, but go ahead and lay it out for me."

"According to the manual, there's family leave for situations like this, when there's a … ," Tim took a deep breath, "when there's a terminal illness. As I understand it, I could take this leave and be gone for as long as 6 months and I'd still be regarded as employed by the agency, without pay but guaranteed a job on my return. No guarantees of what or where, but something. Anything longer than 6 months is a different story. However, that means leaving the team Boss, because I don't know how long I'll be gone and that's not fair to you or the others. "

Gibbs thought about losing him from their team. They'd worked hard to stay together and at staying together, all of them; Tim's skills, in and out of the field, would not easily be replaced. Probably never going to find that exact match of electronic intuition and determination. However, none of them were irreplaceable, except to each other on a personal basis. The truth was any one of them could leave for a promotion, another job; another agency or … he stopped that thought.

"What if we could find a middle ground, McGee?" He finally said. "Call it consulting that you can do for us – you know, your electronic stuff – that you could do from home or wherever you are that's secure. You would also be paid for your consulting. That way, you can be with your father and be available to the team when we absolutely have to have you on the case. On a day to day basis, we'll work with Cybercrimes. When they're stuck we'll call you in, although not into the office. You think you could make that work?"

At the other man's relieved nod, Gibbs continued, "No promises, I'll have to talk with the Director. If we get the ok, how soon do you want to start your leave?"

"As soon as possible, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, gave him a quick squeeze of the shoulder and then started to head upstairs. Stopping, he turned and said, "Need coffee first. You head out, McGee, that's an order. Go home, get some rest, been a long day. This might take more than a few hours to get approval. "

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

By the following Monday, Timothy McGee found himself semi-officially on family leave, while being on call for consulting work with his team. Director Vance had somehow wrangled both Human Resources and the Legal Department into this; Tim really did not want to know how. The Admiral was pleased and a bit humbled that Tim was making the effort to be with him after the crappy way he had treated him most of his life. Relieved that his son would not be giving up his career, he was secretly impressed that the Agency had been willing to make the special arrangement and resolved to let Tim know.

Tim's first day away felt strange from the start. He woke at his normal time with nowhere to go for several hours. He would be picking up his father for an early lunch and then a drive out to the shore. Tim's great grandfather McGee had long ago built a beach cottage that was still in the family. None of them had been there in years, usually renting it out. Now John McGee wanted to visit the cottage.

After puttering around his apartment, frequently checking his phone messages and working on his current book, Tim finished dressing and left to pick up his father. He gave himself permission to be 5 minutes early but no more than that. His father was waiting for him but there was no sign of his usual impatience and Tim even got a smile when he rolled up in his Porsche. Or maybe, thought Tim, the Porsche got the smile!

As his father folded himself into the car, he commented, "Nice ride, son, I wanted one of these once upon a time." At Tim's look of astonishment, the Admiral gave a dry chuckle, "I wasn't always an Admiral, Tim. As a young officer, hell as a teenager, I would have done anything to have such a hot car."

Tim gave himself a shake, having a hard time imagining his stern poker-faced father as a teenager. Then he remembered his Boss, who also usually sported a poker face, racing out of Stillwater in his bright yellow muscle car, a huge grin on his face. His father glanced at him, "You can't picture me as a teenager or wanting the car?" Tim just shook his head with a small grin.

Lunch was at a restaurant frequented by Navy brass; John was missing "his people". Tim was not crazy about the idea, but things were going well so far. He was surprised, perhaps even astounded when his father introduced him to his friends with a note of pride in his voice. Several remembered a much younger Tim, were happy to see father and son together and to have a chance to get re-acquainted. Although lunch went well, it also went longer than planned and Tim could see his father tiring. Rather than bring attention to his father's condition, he surreptiously pressed the "fake phone call" app on his cell phone. As his phone vibrated with the fake incoming call, he told his father he needed to take it in private and left the table. Returning shortly, he informed the Admiral that they would need to leave as he had his first consult. His father, motioning to his son, said to his friends, "You'll excuse me, gentlemen, but my son is needed!"

As they pulled out of the parking lot, John leaned towards Tim, "Thanks, kiddo. I really enjoyed that." Tim eyed his father, "Do you mind if we go to the cottage another day, Dad? Tomorrow would work for me."

"Let's make it day after tomorrow, Tim. I have a couple of appointments tomorrow."

"Ok, how about I drive you?"

"Yeah son, I'd like that. " After discussing times, the rest of the ride home was comfortably silent. When they reached the house, John sat for a minute, gathering the words he wanted to say to his son.

"Tim, wanted to tell you that I'm impressed by your Agency being so accommodating with your leave; with the consulting. That tells me how much they value you and I'm damn proud, even though I'm not sure I have that right. "

Tim's jaw dropped and he sat speechless as his father climbed out of the Porsche, patting the door affectionately. "Like this car, Timothy, glad you decided to treat yourself! See you at 0900!"