Chapter 17

Gibbs knocked and went in quietly lest his man was still asleep.

He wasn't.

Tim was sitting up in bed, bored out of his mind and zapping through the TV channels.

He'd barely had time to wipe the look of utter boredom off his face at the soft knock and identifying his visitor as his superior.

His face lit up, but only briefly, before adopting a more guarded countenance. He wasn't sure what mood Gibbs was in right now. After all, it was the first time he'd seen the team leader since waking up in a hospital bed. He knew he'd got into big trouble and that it was all his own fault - his own incompetence.

Tim quickly powered off the TV and carefully avoided Gibbs' face.

If he'd expected his boss wouldn't notice, he was wrong.

In fact, Gibbs did notice and he wasn't happy with his agent's reaction to his presence. It was back to the rookie days again.

He stood there eyeing Tim. Giving an exasperated sigh, he walked further into the room and gingerly sat down in the chair nearest to the bed.

Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, Gibbs subjected the younger man to a close scrutiny.

He'd heard McGee was doing better. Quite well, considering. Of course he was still far from well, but he was getting there. His lungs had mostly cleared, his head wasn't hurting, and he only felt the occasional shiver. They all knew he still felt a painful pulling whenever he moved his left leg, and this wasn't only due to the stitches. It had been an ugly gash, after all.

A quarter of an hour later, and Tim still hadn't looked up which had Gibbs wondering if this was going to be a battle of wills more than a cowering game.

Tim, now, could feel Gibbs' steely, blue eyes positively bore into his skull and found it very unnerving.

Finally, Gibbs came to the decision it was time to break the awkward silence.

Apparently, Tim had been of the same idea and so both started talking at the same time.

"Boss..." Tim tentatively began. He had raised his head and was now looking directly at Gibbs.

"Listen up..."

Gibbs knew the younger man would wait for him to continue. It's how one Timothy McGee's mind worked.

"McGee...Tim... You're not to blame yourself over this."

"How can it not be my fault?" Tim blurted out. "Me and my stupid seasickness..."

"Here we go." Gibbs thought.

"Okay. You were seasick. So now you tell me in what way you could've changed anything had you not been seasick? Other than getting nearly drowned? And...would you have stopped the damned boat from hitting the yacht? Would you have kept the boat from sinking? Would you?"

Tim truly had no answer to that.

"Perhaps..." He tried.

"Perhaps what exactly, McGee?"

"If I hadn't been seasick, I would've stood a better chance getting in the life raft along with you guys." Tim muttered.

"True. So?"

Gibbs knew very well where Tim's mind was taking him. He also realized his agent had to get it off his chest, this burden of guilt and self-pity. Gibbs knew from experience how such thoughts could end up in a quagmire of negative emotions, if left unattended.

"You wouldn't have needed to jump after me. In fact, you should've let me go. You risked your life for me. You shouldn't have done that."

"Are you telling me that what I did was stupid?" The team leader tried to suppress a smile, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch.

Tim looked up appalled, as Gibbs knew he would. Oh, the boy could be so predictable.

"NO-oooo! Well...not really. It's... There are rules and those say, when in such an emergency, one first saves oneself. No use risking your life as well. If... I mean... There would only be one casualty. You jumping after me, could've had you killed as well and that would've been completely unnecessary. A useless death."

Gibbs nodded. "A useless death. That the way you see it? My attempt at saving your butt resulting in a useless death."

"Yeah..." Tim furrowed his brow as he looked Gibbs straight in the face again. "That's right."

"So it would've been better had we...had I just let you die because saving you would be a useless act meaning certain death for me?"

"Yeah?" All of a sudden, Tim wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe he hadn't been clear about what he meant, how he felt... He must've been more loopy from the medication than he thought.

"Who's to tell how trying to save someone would end? Where's the certainty of failure or success? Where's the sense if one can't trust somebody when one's life is threatened? Okay, so I jumped in after you. I would've done this for anyone. Wouldn't you do the same?"

Now Tim didn't like where this dialogue was leading. What was the boss implying by that? He shifted nervously in his bed, his fingers clutching the sheets.

"Would you, McGee?"

"Of course I would, Boss." Tim whispered.

"Good. By the way, you should also remember you belong to me. Since the day you started on my team. You're worth more to me alive than dead, McGee... Remember that."

"I'm sorry..."

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

"If you weren't injured, I'd slap you. For all your being brainy, you can sometimes be such a...round-eyed..." He looked away incredulously, not believing the look Tim was giving him; literally wide-eyed. "Yeah, that exactly!" You've got to be kidding.

"Uhm..."

"Look, I care for you. You can rest assured. I'll always be on your six, as much as I can trust you'll have my back when that time comes. So pull yourself together. I want this chapter closed. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Oh and one more thing. When you're cleared for work, I don't wanna have you breaking your back for me over some undue feelings of guilt you think you gotta have! Not again. I don't need a chauffeur and my fish don't need feeding."

"Got it, boss."

At least Gibbs would've expected a smile or at least some reaction, but he was met with a blank face. So be it.

"Good."

He rose from his chair, his expression somewhat mollified. "Look, I'm after some coffee. You think about what I said. When I get back, I want to see you composed again. That clear?"

"Crystal..."

"See ya." Gibbs walked out of the room, giving the agent some room to collect himself.

When he returned, a little later, Tim was lying down. Whether asleep or not, it didn't matter. This time, he would sit and wait until McGee felt ready to talk. Gibbs wasn't altogether sure the matter was closed.

"I thought I screwed up." Tim's voice sounded tired, as if he'd bottled up something for a long time.

Gibbs looked at McGee but the other man was still lying in the same position, eyes closed as if asleep.

"What's that?"

"I said that I..."

"I know what you said, McGee."

"Then why...? Ah, never mind. That's why you're still here, aren't you? You know."

"Know what?"

Tim heaved a big sigh and winced as a pain shoot let him know in no uncertain terms he should take a little more care of his abused lungs.

"That I realized it was wrong of me to think that."

"So, why was that so hard to acknowledge?"

"I...I didn't see you...here... I saw Tony, Ducky, the others...Z-ziva..."

"Yeah, about that."

Tim blushed and shifted uncomfortably in bed, and that brought about another wince.

Gibbs' hand went to the lever. "Here, let me help you sit a little straighter, okay? That better?"

"We never fooled you, didn't we? You knew all along..."

"You broke my rule. You and Ziva."

"I'm..."

"Don't...say it, McGee." Gibbs growled.

Tim, though, slowly turned his head to face his boss and Gibbs was sure he caught a gleam of defiance in the green eyes.

"I was going to say I was not sorry for breaking your rule #12."

"You're serious."

"I've never been more serious in my life, Gibbs." Tim earnestly replied.

It was amazing, Gibbs thought, how his guy could still manage to throw him for a loop with his swings.

"To my knowledge, there's no official rule stating that federal agents can't be romantically involved with each other. There are no policies on dating co-workers. Other agencies allowed marriages between agents. So, you tell me, Gibbs, by what right you enforce this – your- rule? Yes, Ziva and I have been going out. For six months, now."

With this long monologue, at least to to Tim's standards, he was fairly running out of breath. In fact, he'd been on such a roll that even Gibbs couldn't put in a word. A rarity.

"Bold as brass." Gibbs thought, and keeping his face neutral, he spoke. "Are you finished?"

"Yeah..." Tim sulked, but then seemed to reconsider. "No!"

Gibbs raised a quizzical brow in response. "No?"

"No. I'm not done yet." Another careful breath. "Have we ever given you a reason, any reason at all, for finding fault in the execution of our jobs because of our dating? I hope not. Did it threaten work relationships? No. Did it jeopardize work flow? Cloud our judgement in the field? No! And now, bringing up the subject of my hospitalization and the reason I got here: has Ziva reacted much...out of character? Was she in any way behaving unprofessional because I was badly injured? No, I didn't think so. And d'you know why? Because we ARE professionals and don't let our relationship interfere with our jobs. As far as I'm concerned, you've got nothing to reproach us."

Tim lapsed into silence again. His chest was heaving with both emotion and fatigue. And still, he glared at Gibbs, as if daring the other to contradict him on each and every point he'd made.

Then, after he'd had his say, realization struck at of how he'd sounded and he felt the first twinges of remorse. He blanched at his own audacity of speaking up to his superior in such a way, and how easily he'd given in to that.

Gibbs had seen the array of emotions cross his man's face and he had a fair idea of how McGee was feeling at the moment. He had been as surprised as his otherwise demure agent. Or maybe not? Hadn't McGee acted like this once before? When Sarah, his 'little' sister had been the prime suspect of a homicide case? It was a day that would be well remembered by many within NCIS. In fact, McGee had succeeded in baffling the whole squad room and beyond by his protectiveness. Scuttlebutt had never worked so fast as the day that the shy, geeky agent on Gibbs' crack team had lied to start his own investigation. It hadn't been easy for Gibbs to forgive the young man for not trusting his own co-workers. What? His own team leader! Granted, the evidence did link Sarah McGee to the murder of her former boyfriend. One hated to think what Special Agent Timothy McGee would've done, had his sister really been convicted for coldblooded murder.

"Okay, I've let you talk. Do you feel better now?"

"Eh..."

"C'mon, Tim. Be honest with me...to yourself... This has been bugging you for a while, hasn't it? Whose idea was it to keep it from me?"

"We knew we wouldn't be able to anyway. It's just..."

"Just...?" Gibbs prompted.

"We were waiting for the right time to tell you...and the others..." Tim muttered. "But you knew, anyway, didn't you?"

The other gave as simple nod.

"And you know what, Tim?"

Tim looked up expectantly and yet with some trepidation that was apparent from the nervous fumbling of his fingers on the sheet.

"I don't care. I don't mind. What do you think I could do about it, anyway? Punish you for disobeying one of my rules? They're guidelines, Tim, no more. I like a tight team and I've got that. Your relationship with Ziva hasn't damaged that. The worst I could do, if I wanted to play it rough, would be to arrange for a transfer for either or both of you. But what would I gain by splitting my own good functioning team?"

Tim's face brightened considerably.

"However, as soon as it interferes with your tasks as agents, I will not hesitate to arrange for a reassignment."

"We'll be discrete, boss." Tim agreed, much relieved.

It didn't go unnoticed to Gibbs how his agent changed his address.

Gibbs took his coffee and brought it to his lips. One gulp and he set it down again with undeniable disgust. His coffee had gone cold.

"Any time, now, and they'll bring dinner. You can have mine. Don't feel much like coffee, right now."

His words had barely left his mouth when the door opened and a pretty nurse set a tray upon the little turning table.

"Let me raise the head of the bed a little more, agent McGee. There. Done. Anything else? No? Enjoy your dinner, then. And don't forget to take your medication."

She flashed him a bright smile and left again.

Without a word, Tim pushed a cup and the coffee pot towards Gibbs, who, gratefully, accepted.

They were still sitting in companionable silence when there was a knock again and Ziva craned her neck in before walking further into the room and over to Tim's bed.

She cast a wary glance at Gibbs and a questioning look towards Tim, who, between two spoons of vanilla pudding, motioned her not too worry.

"It's okay, Zee. He knows."

"Oh!" Was all she said.

Gibbs snickered and drank the last of his coffee before getting on his feet to leave.

"I'll leave you two alone, now. Make sure I don't hear any complaints. That clear?"

Tim and Ziva answered in unison: "Clear!"

Then, he squeezed Tim's shoulders. "Get well, Tim. Don't want to see you back at your desk unless you get the all clear."

At the door, he turned once more. "Ziva, make sure he gets some rest."