Several days had passed and there had, thankfully, been no active cases. It was Friday night, near the end of the day and Tim was getting ready to leave while Tony was still at his desk, looking over some papers.
"Why aren't you getting ready to head home?"
"I will. Just want to finish reading this over."
"It's a cold case, Tony. I'm sure it can wait until Monday."
"I'm getting a tingle."
"There's medication for that."
"Ha ha. Funny, only not so much. Something about this is familiar; I just can't put my finger on it."
Tim put on his coat and picked up his bag. "Good luck. See you Monday."
Tony absentmindedly gave a short wave, once again engrossed with the files in front of him.
Tim started to make his way towards the elevator, waiting for Tony to call him over whining for help. He was nearly to the doors and no sound had come from Tony's direction. He glanced back to see the older agent still staring intently at the papers, diligently making notations on a separate sheet.
Guilt prevented him from going further. Hoping that he wouldn't regret his next move, he retraced his steps.
"What is it about it that's giving you tingles?"
Brow furrowed, Tony answered distractedly as he squinted at the photos, "The pictures of the crime scene, there's something... there's something about how the body is placed that's bothering me."
Blinking, he looked up at Tim. "What are you still doing here, Probie? Go home."
"I just thought I'd lend a hand, if you need it."
"That hard up for something to do on a Friday night?"
"You should talk, staying late. I thought you would be home prepping for your date tomorrow. Doesn't it take you at least 24 hours to get ready?"
"For your information, the date's been postponed. Unlike us, she didn't have to work during the power outage. Her office is playing catch-up this weekend."
"You know, you might find it easier to look at the pictures if you scan them and put them up on the plasma. Here, give them to me. It'll be faster if I do it."
Tony couldn't argue with that and handed over the photos. In no time, Tim had them scanned and up on the screen.
Tony reached for the mouse, but it was quickly taken away by Tim.
"No mouse for you."
Tony just rolled his eyes, looking at the pictures intently.
"So, what are the details about the case?" Tim asked.
"Victim's name was Laura Taylor. Husband, Lance Corporal Peter Taylor, was on a training exercise for two weeks and his wife was home alone. Suspects broke in, stole jewelry, electronics, the usual portable items and killed the wife. Reports indicate that there were at least two based on the volume of items stolen. No prints or DNA found on scene.
"Did she surprise the robbers?"
"No, reports indicate that Laura had settled in for the night when the invasion took place. The television was left on, which was why someone was called to the scene. Neighbours complained about the noise."
"Assault?"
Tony's eyes hardened as he nodded.
"There was evidence of sexual assault." He paused a moment, his mouth formed a grim line. "She was two and a half months pregnant."
Tim expelled a breath in horror and turned back to the screen, staring at the images.
"If she was sexually assaulted, why is she still fully-clothed?"
Tony's eyes widened and he clasped Tim's shoulder, shaking gently.
"That's it, McGee. You're a genius!"
"Wait, what did I say?"
"The clothes. That's what set off the tingle. A few years ago I went out with an old buddy of mine from Baltimore PD and he mentioned this case that he was working on. It was a home invasion and the homeowner was killed. He kept saying what threw him off was that she had all of her clothes on even though she had been raped. Her clothes weren't just thrown on, either. She had been redressed, all of the buttons done up, shirt tucked in, everything down the line. He couldn't figure out why the killer bothered."
Tim took a closer look at the image. "It looks like everything's in place here, too. Are you thinking serial killer?"
"I don't know. A lot of years between the two crimes and I don't think much was stolen in my friend's case. I'm going to shoot him an e-mail and see what's going on with his investigation. He might have already solved it."
Tim half-listened to the clacking of keys behind him as he took one last look at the screen before turning it off and shutting down the computer.
"Thanks, Tim. You really helped me out. That would have driven me crazy all weekend."
"No problem."
The two agents made their way to leave the office
"So, where are you headed now?" Tim asked.
"Home. Going to order some pizza, maybe plug in some Magnum and zone out. It has been a long, long week. You?"
"I was actually thinking of going to a pub, grab a drink and some really greasy food." Tim had no idea what possessed him to say that. His evening's plans had really just consisted of him going home, trying to get some writing done, or, barring that, do some gaming online.
"You were going to go to a bar by yourself?" Tony asked incredulously. "Okay, that is not happening. Let's go. My treat."
"Your… treat? In all of the years I've known you, you have never, ever paid for both of us."
"Tim, Timmy, Timothy, you helped me figure out what was bothering me and now I can have a stress-free weekend. I owe you."
Tony smiled at Tim as he spoke. He noticed that this was a different kind of smile than all of the others he's seen on Tony's face – it was not too big or flashy, not flirty or smirky. It was just open, honest and sincere. Tim couldn't help but smile back.
Tony followed Tim to his car.
"Of course, since I'm buying, that means I get to ride there in your sweet little sports car."
"You're not driving, Tony."
Tony's eyes twinkled mischievously. "We'll see who's holding the car keys at the end of the night. You're a light-weight right? Two drink max?"
Shaking his head, Tim laughed as he unlocked the car and watched Tony slide into the passenger seat. He started the engine and let Tony change the radio station. The car was soon filled with music and the sound of Tony singing along. Putting the car into gear, he cast a sideways glance at Tony, heart thumping a little faster than normal.
He had absolutely no idea what was going on or what he was doing.