Time usually seemed to crawl on stakeouts, but ensconced in a comfy booth, typing out observations about the patrons of the coffee bar, mainly as possible evidence but, in the back of his mind, thinking that some of the descriptions might be useful for his next novel as well, Tim found himself surprised by how much time had already passed.
The arms-dealing marine corporal they were waiting for was apparently late, and they had no way of knowing if his intended customer had arrived or not.
An inconspicuous web-cam was trained on the door, recording everyone who entered, and Gibbs was taking more photos from the car outside, capturing everyone who walked by as well. Tony was still grumbling as he rooted through the trash out back, keeping an eye on the only other door. It was his loud protest about the first drops of rain that had jarred Tim out of his reverie.
Glancing around quickly to make sure he wasn't being watched, he carefully poured the contents of his cup into a large potted plant next to the seat he'd chosen for that reason. He needed to order another coffee to maintain his cover, but he didn't dare actually drink that much, since he knew he couldn't leave his post to run to the men's room. A wave in the direction of the counter, a gesture with the empty cup, and an 'ok' sign from Erica took care of the charade.
The cookies on the table seemed to be calling him. He'd planned to keep some for Tony and Gibbs, thinking as much about his waist-line as about the grief he'd get from Tony if he didn't. But they were really good, and he was inexplicably hungry, despite having eaten a couple of them already.
As he watched Erica getting his coffee ready, he decided that he deserved some compensation for having to sit there, surrounded by the odours of caffeine and sugar, unable to enjoy his drink.
His mind made up, he reached for another cookie.