Tony stood in front of the mirror to adjust his tie before leaving to pick up his date for the evening. He pulled on the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket and gave his reflection one last once over.
He really didn't feel like going out with Sasha, the hot date he'd been bragging about for the last couple of weeks.
How could he possibly concentrate on the date when all he could think about was what happened the night before? Going out with Dan and Tim had left Tony with a strange, surreal feeling. Tony had known as soon as he had invited Tim to go out with them that Tony's well-crafted and much-loved womanizer persona would be shattered.
He knew it would happen – it was Dan and that's just how Dan operated. He couldn't have asked for a better opportunity to gauge Tim's reaction without having to resort to The Talk. And, let's face it, Tony was all about avoiding that.
Tim's reaction had been exactly what he had hoped. Well, it could have been better - he could have admitted that he was interested in him instead of just men in general. But this, this he could work with.
He'd wished there had been an opportunity to say something else to Tim before Dan had interrupted. In the end, his old friend had done one too many rounds and Tony had called it a night and drove him to his hotel. By the time he had gotten home it was beyond late and he'd barely had the energy to take off his work clothes before passing out on his bed.
He'd spent a good portion of the morning staring at the phone, debating whether or not to call Tim (and secretly hoping that he would call him). Just after twelve he decided if he continued this ridiculous behavior he would have to officially declare himself pathetic and retire his Sean Connery impression permanently. So not going to happen.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror one last time and admired how well the Armani showed off the breadth of his shoulders (but really? He could probably wear a potato sack and still look hot). Finally, he sighed, grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
He picked up Sasha, an accountant who worked for the firm that handled his taxes, and took her to a posh, trendy restaurant in the heart of the city. They made casual conversation and Tony played the part of Casanova, putting extra effort to be witty and charming to compensate for his lack of interest.
He really should have just cancelled the date, but it had seemed rude considering they'd already postponed it once. Plus, he always made it a policy to give at least twenty-fours notice if he were going to cancel (unless work came up and then all bets were off).
He should have just called Tim. He really should have. Momentum was being lost even as he sat there listening to Sasha complain about 1040s and W2s. Strike while the iron was hot was his usual SOP in these situations, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
He knew why he was hesitating. He was no good at these types of things. Well, to be fair (and he was always fair when he came to rating his own sexual prowess) he was very, very good at luring people in and seducing them. If this was just about taking Probilicious to bed, it would be a slam dunk. In the bag. A done deal.
But it wasn't. This thing that he had inside of him for Tim… it mattered. Really mattered. He didn't want to screw it up like he did pretty much every other relationship he'd had with anyone. Ever.
Tony figured that it had to mean something that Tim had outed himself. He could have just left it after Tony's comment about Dan's radar and been done with it. He'd kept it under wraps for over five years; there was no reason to admit it now. He had managed to keep it a secret despite Tony's long-time obsession with digging it out of him.
Tony blinked, distracted by the thought. Had he really been thinking about Tim in that way for five years? Had his subconscious mind (that thing he never, ever looked at too closely because it was a very scary place filled with complex things like feelings) pushed and belabored the "would you get it on with a guy" harassment because he had always wanted Tim?
As he looked back he realized that he'd always been kind of attracted to the younger agent. When Tim had first started at NCIS, he was so wet behind the ears that all Tony wanted to do was take him under his wing and make sure that nothing ever happened to him. There was something about Tim's earnest eagerness, keen enthusiasm and desperate-to-belong attitude that got to Tony.
It reminded him of the other Tony, the one that he hid under layers and layers of attitude, jokes, sexual innuendos and really nice, expensive clothes.
Although the new Tim had more field experience and confidence, Tony knew that the not-so-new-Tim was still there.
As his date with Sasha wore on he listened with only half an ear to her talk about work, audits and her three cats. He felt badly that he was not paying as much attention as he should have, but as she didn't seem to care or notice, he continued to let his mind wander.
He'd always found that dating men was a bit less tedious. Women were wonderful: all curves, pretty hair and tinkly laughs. They had their own certain allure, but he knew that if he had to choose, he would prefer a same-sex relationship.
It had been a long time since he had gone out with a man, the last one just before he had started working for NCIS. It had seemed easier all around to maintain a heterosexual lifestyle while working at the Naval Yard. There were no overt indications that it was taboo, but he figured that the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy was still in affect.
He caught the tail-end of Sasha recounting the adventures of her cat Boots (Boots? Really? She had clearly seen the Shrek movies one too many times) and he couldn't help think about what it would be like to take Tim out to a place like this.
Dammit. Now he was day-dreaming about romantic dates with McGee? He really needed to stop. There was a beautiful woman sitting in front of him and all he could think about was starting a relationship with his male co-worker. Stop. Stop right now. STOP!
He tried to focus on Sasha, but something in his gut was tingling and this time it had nothing to do with TIm. He looked up to see that Sasha's attention was on her dessert menu (but she somehow still managed to talk about the digestive issues of her cat Marmalade) so he covertly took his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a button. A moment later, it began to ring.
Feigning surprise, he picked it up and looked at the caller ID while he smiled apologetically to his date.
"I'm sorry, it's my boss. I have to take this."
He opened the phone and walked away, pretending to speak to the non-existent voice on the other line. He made his way outside so as not to disturb the other diners and quickly hit speed dial 2 and waited as the phone rang. He checked the time and realized that it was just after eight and maybe he would be out and that this was probably a really stupid idea.
He was about to hang up when someone picked up on the other end. He could hear soft music playing in the background and he cursed himself silently.
"Hello, McGee speaking."
"Tim, it's Tony. You're probably busy but I just had a quick question about the searches you've been doing for the Moss/Taylor cases."
"Tony, it's Saturday night. I thought you had a date."
"I do. I'm on it right now, actually."
"It's going so badly that you're calling me in the middle of it?"
"No, she is all over me," he said, more out of habit then anything else.
"And why aren't you all over her, then?" Tim asked, his tone filled with sarcasm.
Because I want to be all over you, Tony thought, but managed to keep that to himself.
"I was just, um, thinking about the case and this idea popped into my head. Have you only been looking at female victims in your search."
"Yes. I mean, the victim in both cases was female. Why?"
"I was just thinking that… men have sex with other men…" Tony could feel the heat spreading from his neck, up to his face and when the hell did DiNozzo's blush?
"I've heard that this has happened before," Tim said, amusement clear in his voice.
"I just didn't want us to rule it out." Tony winced and looked up at the sky helplessly. Was he referring to the case or to him and Tim?
"O…kay."
"Anyway, yeah, that's all I wanted to know. Thanks. Sorry to bother you and please tell your date I'm sorry. Gotta get back to Sasha."
"No problem." Tim hesitated for a brief moment before he continued. "I'm not… on a date, I mean. I'm at home. I'm trying to get some writing done and I like to have jazz music playing in the background sometimes."
Tony smiled, pleased. "How's it going?"
"I've got McGregor trapped in an abandoned mine shaft. It's looking pretty grim."
"I'm sure Special Agent Tommy will figure out how to rescue him."
"McGregor can handle himself without Tommy's help, thank you very much."
Tony snickered. "You keep telling yourself that, Probie. So, are you wearing that jacket thing, with the padded sleeves?" As the words came out of his mouth, Tony cringed. Oh my god, I'm flirting with McGee… and not very well!
Tim just laughed. "No. Go back to your date, Tony."
"Sure thing. Happy writing, Tim."
Tony hung up the phone with a smile on his face. As he put it away, he looked through the window and saw Sasha at their table, typing something on her cell phone. She was probably texting how horrible the date was going and how inconsiderate he was for taking a phone call on their date. He couldn't really blame her.
He made his way back to their table, watching as she quickly put her phone away.
"Sorry about that. We're working on a case right now and my boss has a new avenue to investigate. I told him I'd run the search tomorrow."
Her eyes perked up with interest. "Oh, wow. What's the case about?"
"We're investigating the murder of a marine's wife."
Sasha's hand reached towards Tony's on the table. She clasped it tightly and said, "That's awful. That poor woman. Her husband must be devastated. Do you investigate a lot of cases like this?"
"Not a lot, no." Tony said, trying to block the memories of all the crime scenes in his head.
He looked into Sasha's eyes filled with a combination of morbid curiosity and feigned sympathy. He couldn't help but recall the moment with Tim at the pub the week before, talking about Kate. The way Sasha was holding his hand was nearly identical but it paled in comparison.
He gave Sasha a small smile and changed the subject smoothly, just as a frothy chocolate concoction was placed on the table. Sasha broke into a wide grin, released his hand, all pretense at sympathy already forgotten.
After he drove her home, declining an invitation to come up to her place citing the need to get to the office early (and when had ever said no before?) he couldn't help but think that the best part of his evening had been talking on the phone with Tim.