a/n - and the second chapter, as promised.
Fornell looked over the apartment he'd spent the last several hours setting up. A secure building that had never been used by the FBI or any other agency was the safest option for this operation; a fact quickly agreed upon by the director. A few discreet inquires had put together a plan for a computer system that could handle anything needed to crack the previously impenetrable wall surrounding Moore's group. The actual parts had been gathered from so many different sources no one outside his own team would be able to trace them all.
McGee's first order of business would be assembling the parts into the working network of computers he should need. Fornell had no doubt that the other man's knowledge would show some gaps in what they had gathered for him, but at least it was a start. He'd already planned on Sacks working along side McGee at this stage of the operation and recognized that Sacks knew their agency well enough to track down any missing components needed without raising any red flags. Sacks was currently overseeing the installation of a T1 line into the apartment, a feat managed without the notice of either the CIA or NCIS. Tonight he planned on giving a key and the security code to McGee. By the time McGee had the computers up and running, Fornell believed he would have copies of every file in existence on Moore and the Dawn of Tomorrow ready for him.
While he waited for Sacks and the installers to finish, Fornell moved into the bedroom of the apartment. Usually he would not have bothered to furnish the site of a temporary operation like this, but he was worried about the scope and risk of what they would be facing. If any of this leaked and was traced back to the death of Tim McGee's father, then the young man would become an instant target for some of the most ruthless people Tobias had ever chased. He'd feel better if he could talk McGee into moving into here while this was going on.
---NCIS---
After the most thorough exam McGee had ever suffered through he was ready to put his foot down with the good doctor who was currently tapping at his knee with a reflex hammer. "Ducky, I guarantee you that one sneeze did not damage my reflexes."
"What? Of course not." The older man seemed guilty about something as he flustered about in his explanation. "It's been a while since your last check up and I just wanted to make sure you are all right. With the dangers you agents face out in the field, a cold is nothing to sneeze at if you pardon the pun." Ducky finally put down the instrument and studied his patient.
"You look tired and run down, Timothy. Is there anything else, any other symptoms, you'd like to tell me about?"
"Ducky…"
"There is something wrong, isn't there, lad?" He reached out and squeezed McGee's upper arm. "Keeping something like this bottled up isn't good for you, you know."
"Sometimes talking about something doesn't help either." Assuming the exam was done. McGee climbed down off the table and pulled on his shirt. Ducky waited until he was halfway to the door before speaking.
"Timothy, if you are ill, your team leader has a right to know how it will affect your work. The safety of your team has to be taken into account."
McGee stopped in the doorway, frowning as he tried to interpret Ducky's strange comment. "I promise you that nothing is wrong that will affect the rest of the team in any way." Still not sure what was being implied, he returned to the bullpen.
---NCIS---
After a painfully slow day, Gibbs sent the team home right on time. He listened as they made plans, none of which seemed out of the ordinary until McGee turned down a dinner invitation, claiming he had to pick Jethro up at the kennel.
"You were out of town?"
McGee picked up his backpack as his computer was shutting down. "For a few days. We weren't on call and I had my phone with me." He knew he sounded defensive, but the questions had seemed nonstop today.
Gibbs noticed a shift in his tone but didn't mention it. "I was just surprised that you didn't pick him up yesterday."
"I didn't make it there before they closed. See you tomorrow, Boss." McGee didn't wait to see Gibbs' reaction. Gibbs waited until the elevator closed behind McGee to call Ducky. The medical examiner was also concerned about their young friend, but had uncovered nothing useful, nor had McGee confided in him at all.
"Thanks, Ducky." Once he hung up the phone, Gibbs sat in the darkening squad room, staring at McGee's desk until well after the arrival of the second shift.
---NCIS---
It wasn't a surprise to Fornell when his little girl abandoned the play structure to romp with the large German Shepard. She had been hinting about wanting a dog for over a year now. So far he had resisted her pleas, but allowing her time with McGee's dog seemed like a good compromise.
Fornell handed McGee the list of specs for the computer components waiting for him at the apartment they had set up for the operation. While the younger man studied the list and wrote a few of his own suggestions in the margin, Fornell scrutinized him closely.
"You weren't sick at lunch."
"I'm fine." His rough voice seemed to argue the fact, so he explained further. "It's just the beginnings of a cold, no big deal." Tim rolled his eyes as Fornell's parenting instincts took over and he checked for a fever.
"What you need is a hot meal and a good night's sleep." Fornell was a little surprised to find the back of his fingers on McGee's forehead, but he had been feeling a bit paternal toward the young man ever since tucking him in the night before. "Have dinner with us tonight."
Before McGee could say anything, Emily ran up to them, Jethro at her heels. "Please, oh please can you come and bring Jethro?" He found himself agreeing, unable to resist her happy smile.
---NCIS---
Unwilling to sit and be waited on, Tim found himself in Fornell's kitchen, making garlic bread and a salad while the other man added the final seasonings to his spaghetti sauce and drained the noodles. Emily helped him by tearing the lettuce while he chopped the tomatoes. Jethro watched the three of them, the tips of his paws just outside the kitchen.
Once they moved to the table, conversation was limited to topics safe for little ears. Emily told all about her day at school, while Tim regaled her with stories from his own childhood, telling about the weekend camping trips every summer with his father to look at the stars. Eventually the topics shifted again.
"Daddy, Bobby Martin's Mom is getting an artist to help him with his volcano. He's telling everyone that his is going to be better than anyone else's."
Tobias groaned. The Martins and their one-upmanship had put a drain on the rest of the families in the third grade class. "Do you want to do a different project for the science fair? He wracked his brain for another idea. The volcano had been simple science and easy assembly. As a father whose last science class had been sophomore year of high school, he'd been grateful when Emily had picked it.
Emily nodded enthusiastically. "I can't have the same project as him, Daddy."
McGee laughed quietly, recognizing the same parental dismay that he had seen on his own father's face when he was Emily's age and instantly took pity on the older man. "What requirements did your teacher give you?"
Quick as a flash she was in her room and back, carrying the packet from her teacher. She bypassed her father and handed it straight to McGee. He skimmed the papers quickly before returning them to her. "How about square bubbles?"
"There's no such thing." She looked at Tim before turning to her father. "Is there?"
Her father pointed at McGee. "He's the scientist, not me, Sweetheart."
Her attention immediately returned to McGee. "You can make square bubbles for me?"
"Nope." McGee winked at Fornell before he continued. "But I can teach you how to make them and help you learn all about the science involved. That way you will have a great presentation next Monday. How's that sound?"
Over the next two hours Tobias Fornell learned more about physics, surface tension and volume than he had ever learned in school, and McGee became Uncle Tim. Bedtime rolled around and after kisses for her favorite uncle, Emily happily let her dad tuck her in.
Tim couldn't hide the wistful smile as he listened to the story being read in the small bedroom. He and his father had read about Toad's adventures so many times during his childhood, he had memorized the book. He recited along as he loaded the dishwasher.
Tobias quietly closed the door before leaning on it, listening as the story continued in the kitchen. He snuck up on the other man, smiling as he jumped and blushed. "You've obviously heard the story a few times before."
"Yeah." The smile was sad as McGee explained. "Wind in the Willows was something that Dad and I read together every time he came home from a deployment. Even after I was too old really to be getting a bedtime story, we'd sit on the back porch at night and read a few pages before we'd start talking about everything that happened that day."
"Sounds like he was a good man, Tim."
"The best." He took a shaky breath, forcibly calming himself before continuing. "When will we be ready to get started on Moore?"
Tobias could feel the weight of the key in his pocket. The majority of the equipment needed was sitting in the empty apartment waiting for McGee to work his magic and assemble it all into a high tech assault on one of the most devious criminals Fornell had ever gone up against. Prior to yesterday he would have handed it to the young agent without hesitation. Now he saw not an agent standing in front of him, but a son; a lost, hurting boy, exhausted and sick. He answered as a father, not a senior agent with a task force.
"Tomorrow, we'll have everything set up by the time you finish at NCIS. For tonight, I want you to get some rest. Do you want to stay here again?"
It was tempting, but the siren call of his own bed was even more tempting. "Thanks, but I need to go home tonight."
"Call me when you get home."
For a split second it sounded like his father, asking for a call to make sure Tim got back to the dorm all right after a late night visit. "What?"
"You're practically out on your feet, you're sicker than you're willing to admit, and another storm is coming in. If you're not going to stay here, then I want to make sure you get home okay." He walked McGee and Jethro to the door. "If I don't hear from you, I'm sending Sacks out to check up on you."
"Okay, okay, I'll call." Even if asked, Tim could not have expressed how that small act of worry offset the loneliness he had been feeling.
---NCIS---
Down the street, parked in the shadows, Gibbs watched McGee pull away from Fornell's house. "Whatever is wrong, Tim, why couldn't you come to be about it? Why Fornell?"