McGee was still a little shaken up by what had happened, so he was sitting in the bedroom, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"You okay, McGee?" Gibbs asked from the doorway.
Timothy's head snapped up. "Yeah, Boss. I was just uh…thinking about what happened."
Without saying anything, Gibbs sat down beside his young agent and was silent for several moments. "You know, you did the right thing," he told him.
"He was beating her, Boss. I had to do something." McGee looked up at Gibbs.
"McGee," Gibbs said firmly. "You…Did…The…Right…Thing."
McGee nodded slowly, his expression glum. "I know."
Gibbs slapped Tim on the back a few times. "I need you to go to the hospital with Elle and make sure she gets taken care of. Then, take her back to your place and the two of you get some rest."
"On it, Boss."
McGee took Elle to the hospital where an ER doctor stitched her up and informed her that she would probably be sore for several days. The headache would go away with some Motrin and a good night's rest.
As they walked out to the car, McGee was surprised when Elle slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and leaned her head against his arm.
"Thank you, McGee," she whispered. "You saved my life tonight."
"You're welcome," he replied, smiling to himself in the darkness.
When they got back to his apartment, McGee showed Elle to the bathroom and brought her a large NCIS t-shirt to put on after she got out of the shower.
"If you need anything, just holler at me," he told her, leaving her alone in the small bathroom.
McGee went into the small kitchen to find something to eat. It was past midnight and he was exhausted, but starving. He heard the shower come on and grinned to himself. Usually it would be Tony or Ziva who got the job of protecting the victims. Tonight it was him, Timothy McGee, who had taken down the bad guy, rescued the damsel-in-distress, and saved the day. Well, night actually. It would make a good addition for his latest novel, which he'd been struggling to write. "Hmmm…"he thought. "Maybe I'll add Elle in there somewhere."
After making himself a sandwich, McGee changed into some more comfortable clothes and then crashed on the couch. About that time, Elle emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing his t-shirt, which was far too big for her. Since she didn't have any other pants to wear, she had pulled on the yoga pants she'd been wearing all day.
"Thanks for letting me use the shower," she told him, walking into the living room. "It felt good."
McGee couldn't help realized again just how attractive Elle was. And, she was in his apartment, wearing his clothes.
"Umm…yeah, sure," he replied, trying to concentrate on forming a sentence rather than Elle's beautiful figure.
"Can I sit down?" Elle wanted to know, gesturing towards the seat beside McGee on the sofa.
"Yeah, sure." McGee moved a blanket and made room for Elle to sit, which she did.
Elle's POV:
I leaned my head back against the sofa cushions, sighed and closed my eyes wearily. My body was so stiff and sore, despite the magic that the hot shower had worked on me.
"You feelin' okay?" McGee wanted to know, concern echoing in the tone of his voice.
"I'm tired," I admitted, opening my eyes. "And sore. And sad."
"So you two were best friends, huh? You and Lt. Rogers."
I nodded, biting my lip to keep from crying. "We grew up together and, after my parents died, his parents helped raise me. I lived with them for several years and then they helped me pay my way through college. He was my brother almost, and yes, he was my best friends."
"Its nice to have someone you can trust like that," McGee commented. "I have Boss, Ziva, Tony, Abby, and Ducky."
"Abby and Ducky?" I echoed, unfamiliar with the names.
"Yeah. Abby is our forensic scientist and Ducky is our medical examiner," Timothy explained. "Maybe you can meet them tomorrow."
"We have to go back? Back to NCIS in the morning?" I asked. I wanted to sleep and relax for hours. I wanted to forget what had happened and sink into absolute darkness where no one and nothing could hurt me again.
"Boss wants to interrogate Harper, once he's released from the hospital. And, you'll have to give a formal statement, of course."
I looked down at my hands, feeling sad again. "I should have seen it coming," I whispered. " I should have known that Scott was some psycho. If I had never gone out with him in the first place, Will would still be alive."
"You can't blame yourself, Elle," McGee hastened to assure me. "Thinking about what might have been isn't going to bring him back, so just forget it."
Hesitantly, I leaned my head against his shoulder. I felt very comfortable with him, for some strange reason. I'd only known him for less than twenty-four hours.
The next morning, McGee woke up and realized that something felt off. This wasn't his bed and he certainly wasn't used to having something solid and warm lying next to him. "Something solid and warm!" he thought suddenly. He sat up and everything came rushing back to him. Elle had leaned against his shoulder and cried softly for a little while. Before he knew what he was doing, McGee had his arm around her. They must've fallen asleep that way, except now they were both stretched out on the sofa, lying spoon-fashioned. Elle was curled up tight against him, her head resting on his chest lightly. It was going to be awkward when she woke up.