I know, it's short. But it's a lead up chapter so the next one should be much more filling. Enjoy!
Chapter Three: Never That Easy
Apparently, fate wasn't going to allow them to have that lunch that weekend. They got a case late that Friday night. But fate wasn't done. Lunch wasn't going to happen the following weekend. Or the next. Suddenly, it was the end of October and Tim was beginning to believe that this had been some of the roughest past few weeks he was enduring. They were all tired these days. A long mind game had gone on with a serial killer for two weeks until they were finally able to put him away; but not without burying two young girls. The mentally and emotionally draining cases were always the worse.
Each weekend, everyone would push back their plans, including lunch at the McGees. The first week of November was exceptionally quiet. Well, as quiet as it got in their squad room. With nothing to do, the antics between them all went up a few notches with each passing day. The week was so quiet that it took Friday a millennia to come around. But no one was really complaining. They all needed the break. On Friday afternoon, Abby was bouncing up and down, happy to finally meet Tim's parents.
Or so they thought.
At first, he thought the phone ringing was a part of his dream. He was at a bar, talking with a beautiful girl; a mobile interruption seemed about par with his current dating life. Then, he jolted awake when he realized that it really was his phone. But when he reached for it, it went to the message. He closed his eyes briefly when he heard the answering machine come to life.
"PROBIE! GET YOUR SKINNY BUTT OUT OF BED AND PICK UP THE PHONE!"
Tim practically levitated off his bed in shock. He didn't think the answering machine could get that loud. He rolled over and picked up the phone.
"What?"
"Dead sailor at Dumbarton Oaks Park. I'm picking up Ziva now, be ready in ten."
Tony sounded like he was still asleep too. Tim glanced at the clock and groaned when he read 4:12 AM.
"Okay, I'll be ready."
Tony hung up without another word and Tim set his home phone down on the bedside table. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and started picking up an outfit from off the floor. He spotted his calendar on the desk and groaned when he remembered what they were supposed to be doing today. He supposed lunch at the McGees would have to wait. Again.
()()()()()()()
As the sun was rising, Tim and Tony were on their way across D.C. to speak with the parents of the deceased sailor. Tim was falling asleep as Tony blabbered away about something. Tim liked to think that Tony was talking on and on to keep himself awake while driving; it made Tim feel better by thinking that since he was completely ignoring his partner. Eventually, he fell asleep and only woke at the slamming of the car door. He looked up. They were at the parents' house and Tony was walking up the sidewalk to the front door of the house.
"You coming?"
Tim rubbed his eyes and hopped out the car, mentally prepping himself for the challenge of informing the parents that their child was dead. Out of everything about his job, this was one of the things he hated most about it. It was always worse when it was a murder and they had to go through the entire case.
Tony knocked on the door. It was roughly 0600 on a Saturday, so Tony was sure to give them plenty of time before hitting the doorbell. Still, nothing. Almost reluctantly, Tony struck the doorbell again.
"I hate this," muttered Tony.
"Me too."
"It's so awkward when you don't know if they're home or not so you keep hitting the doorbell or knocking but you don't want to sound impatient or rude about it either if they are home. You know what I mean?"
Tim just stared at Tony for a moment before shaking his head. He did know the feeling but wasn't in the mood to discuss it. He knew this was just Tony's way of deflecting; he hated this as much as Tim. But it was too early for Tim to even think about trying to keep up with Tony's mind right now.
"Did you have coffee already," asked Tim as Tony was deciding on whether or not to knock again.
"No. Does it look like I've had coffee yet? When would I have even had time to get coffee?"
Tim just shrugged. He didn't want to admit that his brain was acting sluggish enough to make Tony's usual serotonin levels seem even higher.
"Can I help you boys with something?"
They spun around, where an elderly man bent over a cane was standing by the mailbox.
"Um, are you Mr. Hughes," asked Tim.
"No, I'm their neighbor," replied the old man. "They're not here, though. They went camping for the weekend."
Tony looked ready to shoot something. "Do you know where that would be, Mr…"
"Lewis," offered the old man. "And yes, I know exactly where they go camping. It's the same place as usual."
()()()()()()()
"You know you're out in the boondocks when the radio channels start going country," said Tony as he scanned through the radio.
"Just hook up your iPod," said Tim impatiently. He was holding his phone out the window to try and get service.
"You hook your iPod," shot back Tony.
Tim sighed and looked at him. "Why do you always have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Counter everything I say."
"I'm not countering everything you say."
"Tony!"
"I don't have my iPod with me so just hook up yours and I promise I'll shut up."
"Yeah, right." Tim turned his attention back to his phone. "I'll hook it up after I make this call."
"Callin' the rents," asked Tony with a corny grin.
"Yeah, to tell them we won't make it. Again."
"Don't look so glum McPout," said Tony. "The most weekends I've worked in a row is six."
"This makes four," said Tim.
"I know. So, just two more unless we're figuring on breaking the record before the year's out."
"Yes! Service!" Tim quickly dialed his parents' home number.
Tony was turning up the radio when his dad picked up. Tim quickly batted Tony's hand away so that he could hear his dad.
"But I love this song," argued Tony.
"No you don't, you're just being annoying," said Tim.
Tony shot him a grin but switched off the radio.
"Hello," his dad was asking into the phone.
"Dad?"
"Tim. What's going on?"
"I'm real sorry, Dad, but we're not going to be able to make it again. We got a case this morning."
His father chuckled lamely. "Sounds like you're trying to avoid us, Timothy."
Tony had obviously heard the barb, because he made an 'O' with his lips and let out a teasing whistle. Tim shot him a glare and looked out the window.
"No, Dad, that's not true," said Tim. "We've never been so busy—well not for a while. Just tell Mom, will you?"
"You know, Tim," said the Admiral. "Why don't you take a weekend off, just you so that we can see you again? Your mother and I aren't getting any younger."
"Dad, I can't," said Tim. "That would leave us a man down. But our team is up for getting take off rotation soon. I'll find out when that is and we'll make plans for then, how about?"
"If you say so, Tim," replied John. "I just—I think you're working too hard over there."
"Dad, you have no right to say that," said Tim with an uneven chuckle.
Immediately, his father's tone of voice changed. "Excuse me, son. What are you trying to say?"
Tim frowned. "I'm just saying that after all the years you worked…well I thought you would understand, Dad. I mean, I'm just doing my job." He was starting to feel uncomfortable about having this conversation with Tony in the car. "Listen Dad, I'm busy. I'll call later."
The Admiral didn't appear to have heard that last part. "Are you saying that I worked too hard all those years? I was doing my duty."
Now that made Tim snap. "And what do you think I'm doing?"
"Something worthless like tapping away on your keyboard all day."
Tim barely had time to process that statement before Tony's hand was flying across his face, trying to grab his cellphone.
"Lemme talk to this guy," said Tony. "I'll give him a piece of my mind. Calling my Probie's work worthless, who does he think he is?"
Tim put a hand over the phone. "He's my father, Tony, and there is now way in hell that I'm going to let you talk to him. Now watch the road."
Tony gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white. And while Tim appreciated the gesture, this was not how he wanted Tony and the Admiral to start speaking to each other. He put the phone back to his ear, his father still rambling.
"You're probably just trying to avoid us; probably avoiding me because you're afraid."
Tim let out a breath. He had always prided himself on remaining calm, even when provoked. He especially prided himself on this where his father was concerned.
"Dad, I really need to go. I'll talk to you later." With that he hung up.
"You just hung up on your dad," asked Tony, a little shocked.
"Done it before," muttered Tim. "I usually do it when he's acting all self-righteous." He sighed. "Why, you've never hung up on your dad?"
Tony snorted. "Uh…no."
Tim shrugged. Where Tony would usually hang up on just about anyone when he was annoyed enough, all bets were off about what he would do when around Senior.
An awkward silence permeated the Charger. Tim realized that Tony had heard every word of that conversation and was probably drawing his own conclusions about the Admiral.
"Don't tell anyone about that, please," said Tim. "It's just a bump in the road. You know? I mean, it wasn't just going to magically go back to the best father-son relationship, was it? You know that better than most."
Tony nodded. "Yeah."
"So you won't tell anyone?"
"Promise."
And from the sincerity in Tony's eyes, Tim knew he could trust this promise.
"But I need something from you first."
Tim rolled his eyes. Seriously? Tony was going to get something out of him on this. That was low; even for Tony.
"What," he practically growled.
"Just know that you're work isn't worthless, Tim," said Tony. "No one on this team is. Everyone has their niche and everyone's niche is as equally important as the next. Got that? You are not worthless."
Tim smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Tony,"
"That's what I'm here for."
"Moral support," teased Tim.
"You callin' me a cheerleader?"
"Maybe."
"Put your damn iPod in before you talk yourself into a hole Probie."
Tim smiled and dug out his iPod, knowing that the next hour in the car with Tony was going to be a long one.
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