Chapter 3.

Gibbs' thoughts go in a whole different direction

Gibbs took his shoes off as he closed the door behind him. His leg was aching less, but it still itched a bit and mostly annoyed him. Ducky had told him to not tire it too much but he had never been one to listen to others. He was certain he would find a warm house and a meal waiting for him as had been the norm the previous time McGee had stayed over. However, even though the house was indeed warm, there was nothing to even indicate there would be food to eat; no aromas from the kitchen, no warm oven, no casserole, nothing. He could only see a faint light coming from the basement.

McGee was bending over his desk and sketching. Gibbs smiled at his agent engrossed in his project. His smile widened when he saw him wearing his sweatshirt.

Gibbs was in a bad mood. His team had just closed a case that involved the death of a child dependant that hit home hard. The little girl was six years old and had been killed as revenge against her Father. Mike had sent him home the moment the case had cleared. "I don't want to have to restrain you, Probie." He had said.

Gibbs shut the door behind him and threw his jacket on a chair before running up the stairs to have a shower. His plans changed when he heard noise coming from his bedroom. He climbed the stairs faster.

"Don't leave any bruising I won't know how to explain to my husband." He heard his wife saying.

When he was on top of the stairs, he could see from the bedroom's open door her naked form on some man's lap, grinding down, bouncing on him while moaning her pleasure. None of the bed's occupants noticed his presence until he banged the door behind him. He climbed down the stairs with the same haste he went up. He pulled his gun from the holster and locked it in a drawer, safe away from him.

He turned around to see h is wife run down the stairs wearing a plaid shirt of his. He guesses had his feeling run deeper he should be jealous, enraged, beating her lover into a pulp but he's only tired, and disgusted to see her wearing his clothes.

"Jethro, please, listen to me."

He raised his hand and with a finger in his lips he quietened her immediately. "I will go for a walk and when I come back I want neither of you in my house." He pointed at his shirt. "And take this with you or I'll burn it."

"Damn it, Jethro. I love you."

"You love me? How? Bouncing on his lap?" His finger indicating the room that used to be theirs a few hours ago.

"You are never here. And when you are, you are lost in your work or the basement."

His thoughts went to Shannon and the time she was alone while he was overseas in one dangerous situation after the other with a child to look after. He raised his hands shaking his head, trying to understand her reasoning. He leaned close to her to whisper in her ear, the scent of her nauseating after the day he had. "If you loved me, it wouldn't matter."

He closed the door quietly behind him taking a deep breath.

-NCIS-

He remembered a time not long ago none of his shirts would fit the younger man.

It was nice to see Tim lost in something other than his pain.

But a man had to eat. "Hey, McGee!"

Tim winced as he turned around quickly, startled to see him there. Gibbs felt his own neck aching "Boss, what are you doing here so early?"

"Early? McGee, it's after 20.00."

"What? No, I've only been here for…" Tim checked his watch to see it was actually twenty past eight. "Damn… I thought it was earlier, Boss, didn't realise so much time had passed." He rose quickly and dashed to the kitchen. Gibbs remained in the basement and bent over to observe his sketching. They were little detailed sketches of full section, half section, revolved and removed sections but nothing to elaborate how they were going to build the airplane. Still Gibbs had hope they go there. McGee's laptop was a bit more helpful with the graphics it provided to him.

"Gibbs? How do you want your pizza? Anything more there than just bacon?"

Laughing, Gibbs went up to instruct McGee how to make his pizza. "No pine apple."

"How about banana?"

"Do I have bananas in the house?"

"No, would you like to have?"

"Damn, no McGee. What the hell?"

He came into the kitchen to find McGee coating the pastry with tomato juice and olive oil.

"Not for a meal, but nutella and banana pizza make a perfect dessert I'll have you know."

"Do I look like I'm five, McGee?"

"Why, do I?"

Gibbs bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. "Well, not five, more around fifteen I'd say…"

"Hush." Tim checked the temperature and put both pans in the oven. "They will be done in about thirty five minutes. Sorry, I lost track of time."

"That's alright."

"I found a great book describing the process of making a wood plane." Tim toweled his hands before looking at him. "Did you tell them?"

Gibbs didn't pretend he didn't understand the question. "Yes, Ducky wants to come and see you tomorrow and the others will come over on Sunday evening. OK with you?"

"Yeah it gives me some time to prepare. Gabriel wants us for dinner on Monday?"

"Oh good, circling around the area is the perfect way to spend an hour or two."

"I think we are the only adults he meets. I love his way of dealing with everything."

"He loves you too. You're the son he never had. And he always loved you. I just didn't know it was you he was talking about until I got that call."

Gibbs was planing the big wood slab being too angry to do anything smaller or more delicate like children's toys. When his cell phone rang he settled the jointer plane gently on top of the oak wood before picking up his phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Hello, Gunny." The voice on the other side was familiar, but it couldn't be right. The man had been dead for over a decade.

"Who is speaking?"

"I'm not in liberty to say my name, but you've got it right."

"Gabriel…?"

"Shh Jethro. Yeah, it's me. I need to talk to you. Fifty-Seven Mount Pleasant Street."

"Why now?"

"Remember my nephew, Jethro? The bright kid that I wanted to be my son?"

"Think so, yes." How could he forget? The master sergeant kept talking about that kid's intelligence and talents in every opportunity.

"His name is Timothy McGee."

Taking a deep breath. "So that's what you needed to come out of whatever hole you dug yourself into? I'll be there. Make sure there's coffee."

"I'm scared what he would do if anything happened to you, Tim."

"In the old days, yes."

"Oh, even now. The fact he can't see doesn't mean he's any less scary than before."

"My Mom is still mourning for him." They were entering a delicate territory again and Gibbs didn't want to have this discussion before their dinner.

"Go have a shower. I'll take care of the pizzas."

McGee checked his watch again. "Ok, there's plenty of time until they are ready. No worry they'll be burnt by the time I finish."

"Hey, youngster. I managed to survive for fifty two years rather well."

"Ok, Boss."

-NCIS-

"I want to turn on the radio, but I won't." Tim broke the silence of the basement the next morning. They worked easily, comfortable together in Gibbs' basement. Tim kept on sketching while Gibbs did something he didn't explain to McGee and the younger man kept stealing glances at him to figure out what he was creating. So far, his attempts had been futile.

Pushing one side of the square he used on the wood in his left pocket, Gibbs stood to face McGee. He felt his back's bones return to their normal position. He neared his guest and waited for Tim to continue with his thoughts.

"I love listening to music in the background, soft and low, as I work. But now, I think it's bad. Somehow an insult to their memory. It's just that instinct works at time and begs to turn on the radio, or listen to an album. And then, I remember. It's a roller coaster of emotions. A Scottish shower, metaphorically speaking."

"Don't worry, McGee, Ducky will be here soon for a non so metaphorical shower."

"Am I a bad friend? For not wanting to see them sooner, I mean? I couldn't hold it, Boss. I wouldn't want a repeat of the other day. And, at least that was only you."

Gibbs cupped his neck from behind. "You've seen me at my worse, I've seen you at your worse, McGee. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I doubt I have seen you at your worse, but thank you." Tim stared at Gibbs, his expressive eyes widening at the tenderness he saw in Gibbs' face.

Ducky's voice interrupted anything he would like to add.

"Jethro, Timothy? Are you here?"

"In the basement, Ducky!" Gibbs yelled and drew away from the younger man.

Ducky came down the stairs quickly and grabbed Tim is a fierce hug. The young man looked at Gibbs from over Ducky's shoulder and returning the smile he saw at his face, he wrapped his arms around Ducky. "How are you, Timothy?"

"As I was saying to Gibbs, I'm not really certain, Ducky. It's hard, you know it's hard. It's always painful losing a person you love, and more if you don't expect it or if they are young enough to outlive you. In normal circumstance." Tim's gaze traveled from Ducky to Gibbs and back to monitor the latter's reaction to his words.

"I'm going to go make something to eat. Anything in particular you'd like, Duck?"

Without waiting for an answer he left them alone in the basement. Ducky shook his head in wonderment. "He always asks but never stays long enough to get an answer."

"I know. Good thing he never disappoints though."

"Well, yes. Are you ready to face the team tomorrow? Abby, Tony, most of all?"

"Yeah, Ducky. I didn't want it yesterday, but now it's good you're here." The hand on his shoulder squeezed him.

"I appreciate it, my Boy."

Gibbs stood on top of the stairs listening to his two friends talking. Reminiscing the moment Ducky interrupted, he thought if he had actually made a mistake in taking Tim's sexuality for granted all those years.

Gibbs was strutting through Abby's lab a couple of weeks after Ari was presented as a Mossad officer, where she and Kate were talking and giggling. Wanting the blood sample results from their murder scene, he was ready to interrupt them when he heard McGee's name.

"So how good is McGee?" Kate was holding a cup of coffee in her hand and was looking straight at Abby waiting for an answer.

"He's good, he's brilliant, he gets me…"

"In bed, Abs." Kate's question made Gibbs smile despite his best of efforts for the opposite. For a moment remembered a situation he had overheard Diane discussing their love life with her girlfriends. It would have been embarrassing if he hadn't been praised.

"Yes, well, a bit inexperienced, I would say…" Abby's face was hidden behind her large caf-pow.

Kate laughed. "He's young, isn't he? You could, well, teach him?"

"Oh he's a very fine student indeed."

Gibbs had heard more than he should have and was ready to interrupt them and bask in their embarrassment and then go harass McGee, but Abby continued with new and interesting piece of information. "I don't think he likes it."

Both Gibbs and Kate's eyebrow rose at it, but only the latter replied. "What do you mean? Isn't he good at it?"

"Oh he's good." By now Gibbs was rubbing his forehead. "I enjoy it. I love it. However, he's too mechanical. I think he does it to please me, and trust me he does, not himself."

Gibbs saw Kate leaning closer to Abby. "Do you think he's gay?"

"Ah no! No, he likes me. I think he's even in love with me."

"Then what?"

Gibbs had heard enough. "Then what about my results, Abby?" He asked, strolling inside the lab.

"Gibbs."

He hadn't believed Kate then and for the years afterwards he remained faithful in his opinion. But had it been the truth?

-NCIS-

After Ducky's departure Tim brought his laptop on the living room and his typing was faster than usual. He gazed at Gibbs. "I don't have my type writer here but I want to write something. I may deleted later on, or keep it. But writing helps."

"OK, but how about my banana and nutella pizza?" Tim looked thoughtful for a moment. "What are you thinking?"

"If I bought any cream cheese yesterday."

-NCIS-

Tony was anxious about facing McGee. What does one say to his best friend in a situation like this? How does one offer comfort? DiNozzo's forte was the lighthearted comments; and even those hurt people at times. Tony knew it when he had taken his commentary a step too far, especially in regards to the younger agent, but it was by now a part of his personality to keep doing it until a hurtful comeback from his chosen victim.

However, this was neither the time nor the place for jocular comments. Tony had lost a couple of friends in the course of his life as a law officer, but nothing like losing a sibling, nothing like Tim losing Sarah.

Tony's hands tightened around the steering wheel. Abby, sitting next to him, was also uncharacteristically quiet. Ziva had declined his offer to come with them. She had said she would find them there.

"Well, how are we going to do it?" He asked Abby uncomfortably.

"Do what?"

"Comfort him."

Abby chewed her lower lip thinking. "Do whatever comes natural, Tony."

Which was exactly what Tony didn't want to do or shouldn't do.

As if they were synchronized Ducky, Ziva's and his car turned up at Gibbs' place at the same time. Parking behind Ducky, Tony came out of the car planning to ask Ducky's advice when Gibbs' front door opened to reveal its owner.

Tony watched Abby and Ziva pushing through all of them to find McGee standing behind Gibbs. Abby was the first to reach him and pulled him in a tight hug. Tony watched Tim's failed attempt to keep his composure. He watched him tightly wrap his own arms around Abby and then Ziva, who spoke to him so quietly no one except for Tim could listen to her.

Tim, eyes tired and puffy, looked at him over Ziva's head. Tears were burning Tony's eyes as he did what felt natural and hugged Tim. He might not know what to say to Tim, but the thought he hadn't been with his Probie in his sister's funeral, the thought Tim had gone through all those terrifying moments alone, were enough for Tony to cry on Tim's shoulder's shoulder just as much as the other man did on his.

Tony didn't notice what Jimmy said to Tim afterwards, he didn't see the latter disappear in the bathroom to calm himself down. He felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder squeezing lightly, and he saw the proud look on the older man's face.

That was the moment Tony knew they would never leave Tim face this kind of pain alone again.