A/N: Thanks so much for reading. Two more chapters after this. Sheila

Chapter 3

Tony steeled himself as he got off the elevator. There was a small crowd already gathered in the bullpen. It was clear that security had come and gone. Bishop spotted him first. "He's here. Hopefully, he knows something."

Abby bounded toward him. "Security went through McGee's stuff. Packed it all up. They wouldn't answer any questions. What happened? Where's Gibbs?"

He accepted her hug silently, and noted the look in Ducky's eyes. The old man knew better than to delude himself as to what was happening. Jimmy looked as nervous as Tony had ever seen him.

Abby's eyes were wet. "Clearly, it's a mistake. We just need to get it cleared up. Where's Gibbs?"

Tony draped his coat over his chair and sat down. There was no reason that the boss had to carry the entire weight. "Listen up, folks. I got news. McPerfect made a mistake- one he couldn't get out of. It's taken me all day to accept it, but it is what it is."

Ducky folded his arms. "Elaborate, please, Anthony."

Tony took a breath. "He screwed up and he got fired. Simple as that."

"No!" Abby stomped her foot.

"Look, I didn't want to believe it either, but he admitted it. I was there and he admitted it."

"So, he made a mistake." Jimmy threw up his arms. "We all make mistakes."

"Not the kind that threaten national security," Tony said in a low voice.

Bishop folded her arms tightly across her chest. "That doesn't sound like McGee. That doesn't seem like him at all."

"Well, you could've knocked me over with a feather too, but the truth is the truth. And I sure as hell am not going to let his screw up ruin my career. I would suggest the rest of you accept it and move on." Tony pretended an interest in a file on his desk.

The elevator dinged and Gibbs appeared, coffee in hand. Abby came at him. "Gibbs, tell me it's not true!"

He stiffened with her hug. "Abby, I don't discuss personnel matters with you."

She stepped away. "He's been loyal to you for ten years."

He brushed by all of them and sat down. "Since Tony obviously has brought you up to speed, there isn't much else to say." He glared at each of them in turn. "Am I the only one here with work to do?"

"Jethro, we're looking for answers," Ducky said softly.

"Well you, of all people, know that's not how this works. People do dumb things, and, sometimes, even I can't fix it. I don't get to share the details. You know that."

"But Gibbs-"

"No! It's over! There's nothing to talk about."

"Gibbs," Abby's voice was shaky. "You and McGee are my two favorite people in the entire world. There's no way you would turn on him like this. No way."

His eyes softened. "I didn't turn on him. He made his own choices and there was nothing I could do."

She bit her lip. "He must be devastated."

"Abbs," Tony said as he got up and put his arms around her. "He's going to be fine. He's so marketable that it would honestly be weird if he didn't leave at some point."

She pulled away. "He got fired! Security took his things! He's a proud man and he cares about the work he does. This has to be killing him."

"Abbs." Gibbs stood, but she shook her head and ran for the stairs. Jimmy trotted after her.

Ducky studied his old friend. "Jethro, you have always felt like the brother I never had, and most of the time, I am really grateful for that bond. Now is not one of those times."

Ellie sat on her desk watching all of this with her brows furrowed deeply. Analyzing data, reports of human behaviors, and patterns had always been her strength. Socially, things had been a little more complicated. Even as a child, she found the unpredictable and emotional nature of people in direct interactions overwhelming. Her gut told her that the pieces didn't fit, but she was still unclear as to what the pieces were. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I, uh, need some food- candy…or chocolate…although chocolate is candy. Um, cheese puffs are good although they get all over your fingers…or potato chips. Red licorice might hit the spot."

Tony pulled a $20 out of his wallet. "Do us a favor and make a store run."

She let out breath, snatched his twenty, and headed for the elevator.

Tony wheeled his chair over to Gibbs' desk and straddled its back. "Convince me that we handled that well."

"Focusing their anger at me keeps them occupied."

"If they don't get answers from you, they're going to go looking for him."

"McGee will handle them."

Tony snorted. "Okay. Great plan. Did you see the look on her face? Or Ducky's? Jimmy's? Hell, Bishop is going to eat her weight in junk food over this. They care about him a lot. He inspires that in people, you know."

"There's isn't a cleaner way to do this. The story has to be the same in all parts of his life. No other way."

Tony nodded.

Gibbs watched him stare aimlessly off into the distance. "Hey DiNozzo! Wake up!"

Tony blinked at him.

"Get that gut under control. You're wearing your anxiety all over your face."

"He's not built for this kind of mission."

"McGee will surprise you. He always has."

"Surprise me?" Tony sat up straight. "Probie has been an open book to me since the first day I met him. Pretty technical read- boring at some points, interesting at others- surprising…never. Not my probie."

Gibbs sighed. "Have it your way. Just make sure you're there to check in with him tonight."

…..

McGee had his elbows on a railing over the Potomac when he saw Paul coming his direction. He straightened up, river wind blowing his light brown hair away from his face. He knew he could do this because every emotion he was feeling was real.

"Hey Tim," Paul said as he got closer. "What's going on?"

"You're a member of the Lombardozzi family."

Paul stopped short, his dark curls dancing in the breeze. "And you are a member of the McGee family."

"The McGee's aren't a crime syndicate."

Paul closed his eyes. "Nor are all of the Lombardozzi's."

"You got me fired today."

"What?!"

"I did it. What you asked. I asked for the 20 additional hours. My boss found out. He's a stickler for honesty. I told you that. Told you he would hate sharing me. He blew up. Then he had your business investigated. So yesterday, the FBI picked me up. Questioned me for hours. They said your business was a front for gun smuggling. I missed a federal indictment by a hair. I got called in this morning and they fired me."

"The feds think I'm dirty?"

Tim shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe. It was hard to tell. They wanted to know if your work overlapped with your family's. I didn't know enough to answer them."

Paul hit the railing with his palm. "I am not responsible for my father's crimes!"

"Do you admit you are a member of the Lombardozzi family?"

"That's not a crime."

McGee growled. "Then why did you never say anything?"

"Because I didn't want to be defined by him. Besides, he didn't want that life for me. He wanted something better. That's how I ended up at MIT."

"And now, you're running an import business."

Paul shrugged. "I'm a better businessman than engineer."

"So I end up screwed…or was that the plan?"

"I would have no reason to hurt you, Tim."

"Why did you reach out to a federal agent?"

"I didn't. I reached out to a former classmate- a guy I knew would do a meticulous job on online security for my business."

Tim shook his head and looked down.

"Can you appeal your termination? It's a government job. There has to be ways."

"I told you that my boss is a hard man. Even if I won an appeal, he would never accept me back. It's over. My career is done."

"I'm sorry, Tim. I had no idea this would happen."

McGee nodded. "Well, it did. So, where do we stand?"

Paul blinked. "You still want to work for me? The FBI didn't scare you off?"

"You're running an honest business, right?"

"Of course."

"You have work for me, correct?"

"I mean, yeah. I don't know that I can take you on full time, but I can push you up to 80 hours a month."

"I'll take whatever you have."

Paul narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure, Tim?"

"I got debts and no prospects. I need the money."

"You trust me?"

McGee sighed. "It wouldn't be the first witch hunt that my boss went on, and I'd like to prove him wrong."

Lombardozzi studied him for a long moment. "Alright. Let's do it, Tim."

…

McGee opened the door to his apartment and found the lights on. He started to reach for his weapon when he heard, "McSpy!"

"Hey Tony, I thought you were going to call." He relaxed his grip on the gun and took it out, sliding it into the cupboard by the door.

Tony sat amidst a pile of books. "I got thinking about the mess in your place, and I had some decorating ideas."

McGee blinked. The bookshelves were rearranged against the wall leaving more open space in his living area. All of my books won't fit this way. I've tried it."

"Standing the books upright, you don't, but your shelves have good head room so…if we stack them on their sides, we make better use of space." Tony pointed to the one finished shelf.

Tim narrowed his eyes. "I never thought about that. It looks weird but it kinda works."

"Yeah, I think so too." Tony leaned against the wall and stood up. "How was your meet with Lombardozzi?"

McGee sat down. "Could we be wrong about him?"

"Oh my God!" Tony dropped his face in his hands. "I knew you would be like this. You're such a softie. 'Let's give Paul the benefit of the doubt'. But, seriously, you don't have the luxury of second guessing yourself- not when you're undercover."

"Alright! I know. It just doesn't seem so clear cut, you know!"

"Stay focused, McGee."

"I know."

"Abby been burning up your phone?"

McGee sighed as he sat back. "I told her Gibbs was right and I was wrong. I told her that she didn't want to know the specifics."

Tony's eyebrows rose. "And that was enough?"

"I told her I needed space and she calmed down after that."

"Seriously? Our Abby?"

"I don't think she really wanted to know what happened. When this is over, I am going to be doing a lot of apologizing."

Tony blew air. "You have no idea. You, me, and Gibbs are going to be in the doghouse."

"Yeah." McGee got up and went into the kitchen. "Beer?"

"Sure," Tony said getting up and finding a chair. "Say, ah, Gibbs told me about your money problems."

Noise in the kitchen stopped and Tony waited a long moment for him to emerge. McGee's face was flushed and he didn't say anything when he handed the beer to DiNozzo.

Tony took a swig. "He had to tell me. I'm basically your handler. I need to know everything. If you're distracted, I need to know why."

"I'm not distracted."

"You've been carrying this monkey on your back for how long?"

"Tony," Tim said shaking his head.

"I mean it. We've forgotten about it. It's not a thing. And you know that it wasn't your fault. Everyone knows it."

"Two people died because of what I wrote. Abby almost died. I didn't think about the consequences. I wasn't honest with you and I wasn't honest with myself."

Tony put his beer down and leaned forward. "So it makes sense that you should be forced to pay $100,000 to your former employer at a rate of $6,000 per month?"

"Karma's a bitch, Tony."

"Oh please! You're going to just lay there and take it."

McGee threw up his hands. "I don't know what else to do. The alternatives are not attractive."

"You shouldn't have kept it a secret."

"Not everything is your business."

"Well, this is."

McGee screwed up his face. "Are we married?"

A smile spread across Tony's face. "Only in the ways that really matter, Timmy."

"Oh God," Tim groaned. "You're like a fly buzzing around my ear. I can never seem to get rid of you."

"What would life be without me?"

"I don't know. Should we try it and find out?"

"No, no, little Timmy," Tony said as he got to his feet. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me. In the meantime, I've gotten a bit peckish. Let's order in and you can give me an entire rundown of your contact with Lombardozzi."

….

McGee drove up to old warehouse on Baltimore's pier. It was from another era, most of these old buildings given already given up to condo renovation and restaurants. This one was at the bottom of the pier in a high crime neighborhood, away from the hustle of the tourist flow half a mile north. There was little traffic coming in and out- just the kind of place you'd want if you were smuggling.

He climbed out and looked out on the bay. Seagulls sounded overhead as the bay lapped against the pier. The gentle rhythm of water against the timbers was a familiar noise. A Navy brat was never too far away from the sea.

"You never wanted to be in the Navy like your old man, huh?"

McGee blinked as he searched for the mind reader. Paul came around the corner.

"Hey Paul, I was just looking out on the drink. It does bring up memories."

"Were you running away from your pops like I was when we met at MIT?"

McGee concentrated. "At the time, we both thought it was a good idea, but it just solidified my status as a geek. He used to say that MIT ruined me for good."

"My pops thought that MIT squeezed all of the family business out of me. He was proud."

"You still see him? The feds say he got out of Sing Sing in February."

Paul looked away and snorted. "He's my pops, Tim. Of course, I see him. I'm on the phone with him every day. That's what family is all about. To me, he's just my dad."

"Sorry."

What? How often do you talk to your old man?"

McGee's mouth twitched. "Every few months."

"Hah! Now who's got a screwed up family life?"

McGee reddened and he looked away.

"Hey! Come on! I'm Italian. I say like it is. You're the same. You think the same things- you just don't say it is all."

"Yeah," Tim managed a lukewarm smile.

"Come on in. Look around!" Paul guided him into the warehouse. Boxes with Italian labels were piled high in the big, open doorway. Beefy guys in t-shirts and hard hats were using lifts to stack boxes in the bowels of the building. Paul pointed toward a walk up to a set of dimly lit offices. "Let me show you around. Give you something to tell the feds when you go home."

McGee stopped and looked at Paul. "You really think that's what I'm doing?"

Paul patted him on the back. "I'm saying it doesn't matter. You can look around all you want and say whatever you want to whomever. Nothing dirty is happening out of this warehouse. Nothing."

"I believe you, Paul. Now show me around."

…

"Well, his mother's relatives in Southern Italy have a small canning factory for San Marzano tomatoes. He's importing them and selling them at high end Italian delis up and down the coast. He made pasta with them for lunch. It was really good."

"So, he knows how to cook," Tony said as he piled more lo mein onto his plate. "What else?"

"Shipment comes in every week on Thursday. It's inspected. Boxes are loaded from the warehouse onto a truck and off to the delis. He seems very open about everything. Keeps joking with me that I'm working for the feds."

Gibbs grunted. "He wants you on your toes. He's playing a game and he thinks he's smarter than you."

"Well, if this is a game then he is smarter than me. Everything sounds honest to me. I keep trying to imagine that I was watching him in interrogation. I can spot tells there."

Gibbs frowned. "Don't, Tim. Just be in the moment. Don't worry about catching him in a lie. It's not natural. Just be natural. When we debrief, we can help you analyze it."

Fornell came out of the kitchen with reheated Chinese short ribs. "Jethro's right. Just be natural. The truth is that you do a helluva' job recalling conversations. Gives us a lot to work with."

Tim pushed back his chair. "That's the thing. I'm not sure if we're going to get anywhere at all. If he's playing me, he's playing me like a pro."

"Oh, he's playing you, McPawn. Keep that straight," Tony said spearing short ribs onto his plate.

Tim turned to Gibbs. "How are things between you and Abby?"

"Don't worry about that."

"She's not calling me at all right now. I'm feeling bad for her. I know this is eating her up."

"She left an eaten cupcake wrapper on Gibbs' desk this morning so I imagine that she's eating something up."

McGee winced. "Oh, that's a bad sign. She's really upset."

"Yeah, she's pissed."

"Boss, I'm worried about her."

"McGee! I am handling it!" Gibbs smacked the table.

Tim blinked at him. "Okay Boss."

Fornell leaned toward him. "You can't afford a distraction, Tim. I know it seems like Lombardozzi is a good guy, but our sources tell us otherwise. Some of the most entertaining men I have ever met have been mobbed up. They're making you pasta one minute and stabbing you in the neck the next."

Tony choked on the rib. "Thanks for the visual, Fornell."

Gibbs pointed a finger at McGee. "Stay focused."

"Got it."

Fornell studied Gibbs. "You struggling with something, Jethro?"

"I don't know," he said shaking his head. "I get the feeling that Lombardozzi knows exactly what he's doing, and I don't like that. What if he really believes that McGee is undercover? What's in it for him to have McGee around?"

Fornell shrugged. "I've seen it before. The suspect uses the undercover as proof that he's not doing anything illegal. McGee hangs out a few months, nothing happens, and we back off."

"He assumes Tim is a plant so he puts on a show. A few months down the road we decide that our intel was bad, and that Lombardozzi is just a mafioso's kid trying to live a clean life."

"Maybe he is clean," McGee mumbled.

Fornell nodded. "Always possible but I doubt it. I think our intel is very good."

McGee caught a warning look from Gibbs. "Boss, I was suggesting put forth a theory. Besides, I can't really see the danger. If he thinks I am still a fed, there is no way he'd ever try and hurt me."

Tony snorted. "Because criminals operate from a place of logic, right?"

McGee looked at the ceiling. "Right. Okay. I gotta go. I'm hoping to pull the hard drives tomorrow with those super powered flash drives."

Fornell scowled. "And you're sure they won't leave a trace of the download."

"Absolutely. These things are remarkable. They essentially freeze the hard drive and upload without a trace. It's pretty amazing."

Gibbs locked eyes with him. "Take your time and pick a good moment, Tim."

He nodded. "Got it, Boss."

….

McGee climbed the rickety steps of the old warehouse and waved to Paul. "Hey. How you doing today?"

"Good. It's going to hit 100 degrees. Thank God we're on the water. Air conditioners are no good because this old place leaks like a sieve."

"I've got the firewall protection. I'm ready to put it on the company computers…unless you want to do it. I don't know if you want me that close to the operations."

"Still worried I don't trust you?"

Tim shrugged. "You got reasons to be cautious. I'm just grateful for the work is all."

"I meant it when I said that I have nothing to hide."

"Good. It's going to take me about an hour per machine."

A thick eyebrow rose on Paul's face. "Sounds like some firewall."

"I need to do some maintenance first to make sure that everything is running well."

Paul made a gesture with his hand. "Do what you gotta do, my friend."

"Figlio mio!"

Both men looked down the stairs to see an older man stepping out of the car. Paul smiled. "Hey Pops!"

"What are you doing on such a day? We should be sitting in the garden sipping Prosecco."

"Sounds like a great idea!"

"Who is this paisan? This is the fed you hired?"

"Yeah, Pops, but he's a former fed. Got fired."

"Ah," the old man said as they descended the stairs. McGee noted that the older man kept a wary eye on him. He stepped forward. "I'm Tim McGee."

Dominic Lombardozzi nodded and slowly extended a hand. McGee shook it. "Good to meet you, sir."

He chuckled. "I've never been a 'sir'. How does a fed get fired these days?"

"He hooks up with a bunch like us," Paul said.

"Hmm. Interesting," the elder Lombardozzi said.

McGee felt the heat rise in his face and did his best to stay stoic. "It's actually a little more complicated than that. My boss, he's a real control freak, and he felt like I betrayed him."

"Loyalty is the most important quality in a man," Lombardozzi said.

McGee nodded. "Yes, and he had mine, but it got a little stifling."

"I've never felt that way. Being loyal to a friend, a paisano. Nothing is more important in life."

McGee nodded. He knew that color was building in his cheeks, and he wasn't sure if it was the steely eyes of the old Mafioso or the need to mis-characterize his relationship with Gibbs. "Well, I better get back to work. Paul, is it okay if I start on the computers in the front office?"

"Whatever works, Tim. Pops and I are going to find some place cool to have some lunch."

McGee responded with a tight smile before ascending the stairs again.

…

TBC