A/N: Alrighty. First off, I absolutely LOVED Flesh and Blood. It rocked. Really.
Secondly, thanks to all those who read and have been reading and a big thanks and hug to all those who review.
And to Sam, thanks so much for your review on both the last chapter of this story and of my other story, NonAlcoholic Beverages. :) I'm glad you're enjoying the story this far.
On a final note, I am sadly, going back to school on Tuesday. :( Having said that, the next chapter should be going up Monday before the dreaded day of actually having to use my brain arrives. :)
Chapter Five
Tim closed the door hard, regretting it immediately when it slammed shut. Probie, who had been sniffing his shoes and jeans, jumped and took a few steps back hesitantly, as if sensing his owner's foul mood.
Tim knelt down on one knee, calling his dog to him, "Sorry Probie," McGee rubbed Probie's head, letting his dog lick his arm slowly, as if Probie was trying to comfort him, "It's just been a long day."
Tim stood and headed over to the fridge, opening it to grab a beer. He almost never drank- because one, he couldn't handle his alcohol and two, he didn't think the hangovers were worth it - but he had decided on his way home that tonight would just be one of those nights where he drank.
Tim slipped out of his loafers and grabbed the remote to the television, before sitting down. Probie, who had been following Tim around the apartment, hopped onto the couch besides McGee, laying his head on Tim's lap.
Tim let his hand fall on Probie's head, his fingers playing with his dog's ears.
"You know," Tim said a few minutes after trying unsuccessfully to find something to take his mind off today, "Even now, you still are a pain in the ass."
Probie didn't move, instead he just adjusted his position so he was more comfortable.
"You could help you know," Tim said, taking another swing of his beer, "I mean, you go on and on about…everything, and yet you won't leave us a freaking clue so we can find you?"
Tony, who had been sitting on the seat adjacent to Tim and not responding to Tim's words so far, shrugged, "Tough case?"
Tim huffed, "Yeah."
Tony didn't say anything and since Tim didn't feel like looking, he had no idea what Tony was doing.
"You know," Tim said, stroking Probie's head, "I haven't seen you in almost a year and now, I see you twice in the same day. Why come back now?"
"I don't know," Tony said, his tone borderline blasé.
Tim, not able to resist any longer, turned and looked at his former partner, "Yeah, seems you don't know much of anything."
Tony frowned, "What's with the attitude Probie?" Tony leaned forward on his chair, his elbows balancing on his knees, "Every time I see you, you always seemed two notches away from a total meltdown."
"I wonder why," McGee said with more venom in his voice than he thought possible. Why was he acting this way? Why was he so angry at Tony? Even when he knew that Tony wasn't even the actual Tony at the moment?
"I don't mind," Tony smiled slightly.
"Don't mind what?" McGee quirked an eyebrow, his anger somewhat contained.
"I don't mind you taking it out on me," Tony answered, using his fingers to tap out a beat on his thighs, "Better me than someone else. At least, this is a lot less…damaging than when I needed to do to let off some steam."
Tim huffed in agreement, "Tony, last time I saw you seriously pissed off, you almost broke your hand hitting the punching bag. If Gibbs hadn't walked in…" McGee trailed off, remembering a case long ago. The victim had been a child, about five or six years of age, and none of them had been able to hold their lunch when they had arrived at the crime scene. Out of everyone, Tony had been the calmest, especially when they had finally arrested the father. It hadn't been until later on that week when McGee had watched Tony's anger seep through his façade.
"Glad you didn't get in my way, huh?" Tony said, smiling sadly, his eyes conveying real sadness.
"Um, yeah," Tim nodded in agreement. That day in the gym, McGee had seen a side of Tony that had honestly scared him. It had been as if a switch had been flipped somewhere in Tony's brain and when Gibbs had stepped in, trying to halt Tony's damaging movements, everyone had been shocked speechless when Tony had taken a swing at Gibbs.
McGee knew then, as he knew now sitting besides Ghost Tony, that if it had been him, if he had been the one who had tried to get Tony to stop, Tony would have seriously injured him. Or at the very least, knocked him out.
But Gibbs had almost seemed ready for it and had ducked. After that, Tony seemed to practically lunge at Gibbs and while Tony didn't go down quickly, after a minute's struggle, Tony had gone down. The moments afterwards had been tense until Gibbs had helped Tony back up, smacking him slightly on the head and telling him to go cool off.
It had been after that case that Tim caught both Tony and Gibbs sparring in the ring during down time. He had never asked Tony about it then and knew that Ghost Tony wouldn't, or couldn't, answer any questions about it.
"I guess you're right," McGee pulled out of the memory, "There are worse things I could do to blow off steam after a crappy case."
Tony just nodded, "Planning on eating anything with that beer?" Tony gestured to the bottle Tim held in his hands.
"Wasn't planning on it," Tim shrugged. He took another swing of the liquid, as if to show Tony he didn't really care about his opinion.
But instead, Tony just let out a small laugh, "Alright Probie. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Tim ignored that last comment, instead, standing to retrieve another bottle from the fridge.
"I would offer you one, but - well," Tim said, drinking his second beer a lot slower than the first, "You never answered my question."
"I recall saying something along the lines of, 'I don't know' but of course, I could be mistaken," Tony smirked, "But it seems I have been having some memory problems lately so in which case, let me answer that question for you: I don't know."
"Smart ass," Tim grumbled.
Tony laughed this time, "So what does that make you?"
Instead of answering, McGee just glared at the Italian, "You here to help then?"
Tony shook his head, "I don't know. Do you need help?"
"Yes," McGee said, the alcohol loosening his tongue, "We freaking need help. Wilson was in full shut down mode after telling the family about their son and Ziva was threatening to kill Gibbs for doing something like that to the new kid."
"But you handled it right?" Tony asked, "Contained and controlled?"
Tim sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his face, his exhaustion catching up with him, "It's not the same. I never thought I'd say this but I miss your stupid jokes and antics round the bullpen. It made cases like these a lot easier."
"There is a method to his madness," Tony smiled, one side of lips raising higher on his face than the other, "Glad you're finally catching on."
"This was a lot easier when I was your Senior Field Agent," McGee said, "Heck; everything was a lot easier when you were here."
"Ah but such is life," Tony stood, rubbing his hands on his jeans, "You didn't expect me to hang around forever did you?"
McGee stood also, "I knew you were going to leave one day. You'd been with Gibbs the longest. You should have had your own team back then. I just…I just didn't expect you to leave this way."
Tony's shoulder dropped slightly, "Sorry Probie."
The response, after so many years working under Gibbs, was automatic, "Don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."
"Yeah, normally," Tony nodded, agreeing with the statement. Tony paused for a few seconds, before continuing, "But friends don't mind that sort of thing."
"Tony," McGee reached out, even though he knew it wouldn't do him any good.
"See you around Probie," Tony said, somewhat sadly.
"Wait-" McGee said but in the blink of an eye, Tony was gone.
Probie whined from Tim's side, not knowing exactly why his master was talking to thin air.
Tim let out a deep breath, sitting down rather unsteadily, "After we find him boy, I'm going to give him hell for what he did."
Probie, who just gazed at Tim with his deep, brown soulful eyes, didn't seem to have any objections whatsoever with Tim's statement.
"After we find him," Tim repeated the statement to himself again. McGee let out a frustrated sigh and snagged his beer from the counter. Walking to the kitchen, Tim drained the beer down the sink and went to work getting Probie and himself some dinner.
A/N: As always, tell me what you think. :) And for those of you who are begging to know what happened to Tony...well. You're just going to have to enjoy the ride.