Chapter 4

Six months ago...

"Who's this, Hal?" Lorenzo asked.

"This is Tim McGee; he's going to be working on the Quantico project," Hal said. "He's got a lot of experience working with the military and he'll be a great asset while we're making up this program."

Teresa looked at Tim with a distinctly unfriendly eye.

"Why? We're managing fine, Hal. You just gave us the specs for the program yesterday."

"We have other projects to work on, Teresa," Hal said. "Tim will focus his time on the Quantico project and will kind of head it up. The rest of you will keep on as usual dividing up the week into days for each project we have on tap."

"Wait a minute. He's going to head it up?" Paul asked.

"He's got the most military experience, Paul," Hal said firmly. "Now, he'll be in the empty office while he works here... so Brian? Charles?"

"On it, Hal. Tim, you'll be ready to go in an hour, probably less," Charlie said smiling.

Tim smiled hesitantly at him. "Thanks."

"No problem. That's our job!" The two maintenance guys headed off, leaving Tim alone with the unfriendly faces. He looked at them, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

"So," Hal said, "I expect you all to be welcoming while Tim works here."

"And how long with that be?"

"As long as it takes to finish the Quantico project, Ronna. Okay, that's it for now. Tim you can settle in and once you get set up, I'll have the official meeting about the project details."

"Okay, Hal."

Hal leaned over just before he left. "Sorry about this, Tim. Don't let them get to you."

Then, Tim was alone with a group of people who looked at him for a few seconds and then turned away, back to their own offices, with a couple of backwards glances that were anything but welcoming.

This is only temporary. They can't keep this up forever. They'll... ...they'll treat you like dirt as long as you're here. You're only a temp, remember?

"Hey, Tim!"

Tim jerked his head to the side at the voice.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Brian. You any good at setting up hardware?"

"Oh, yeah. I can do that," Tim said, smiling in relief. "I had to set up an entire network once by myself." Then, something made him add, "I was miserable the entire time."

Brian grinned. "Is anyone happy setting up networks?"

"Probably not." Tim eagerly followed Brian escaping the unfriendly atmosphere.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Present...

A couple of hours later, Tim went out to the truck and got a ride to NCIS with Ducky and Jimmy. It wasn't particularly comfortable in there, but no one complained, least of all Tim who was simply thanking his lucky stars that he could avoid being in a confined space with his former team for a while.

Jimmy drove and Tim sat quietly wedged in between him and Ducky.

Ducky started talking about something unimportant, mostly to allow Tim to stay silent and not have to answer any questions. When they arrived at NCIS, Ducky nodded to Jimmy who smiled and headed off to unload the body.

"Timothy?"

"I don't know if I can do this, Ducky."

"You can, lad. No one here wishes ill for you, no matter how awkward it all may be. If you relax and let the chips fall as they may, you will be much more comfortable."

"Ducky, I wasn't kidding. I'm the prime suspect. They just don't know it yet."

"Why, Timothy? Surely you don't believe that your rather rocky relationship will be a deciding factor. We look at much more than that...as you well know."

Tim looked at Ducky and then looked away. "I threatened to kill him, Ducky."

"What? When?"

"A couple of days ago. I told him that if he ever got in my way again, I'd shoot him right between the eyes." He closed his eyes. "I've been dreaming about it."

"Timothy."

"I was... I was so fed up with everything. If it wasn't for Hal...I would never have stayed there! ...but I need the money." He leaned forward, resting his head on the dashboard. "Someone heard me. I don't know who it was, but I heard the door close...after I shoved him against the wall."

"Timothy," Ducky said, reprovingly.

"I know, Ducky! I...I don't know where it came from! I just...suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore and I was screaming at him." Tim laughed shakily. "I think I actually scared him."

"I can't keep this to myself, you know, Timothy."

"Don't worry, Ducky. I'll tell them exactly what happened. They should know everything about me, everything that I've done."

"Timothy, do you want to be found guilty of this crime?"

Tim didn't answer. Instead, he sat up. "You haven't asked me if I am."

"I don't need to. I know you aren't."

Ducky was surprised by the tears in Tim's eyes.

"I don't know why you're so sure."

"What's wrong, Timothy? What is it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, Ducky. I'd better go in. I'm sure that..."

"Timothy, wait. Tell me what's wrong. Surely, you trust me by now."

"I do."

"Then, what is it?"

"You say that you know I'm not guilty...but I've committed murder before. I have that inside me still. I'm capable of it. I'm capable of murder, Ducky...and I work with a bunch of people who, no doubt, have already decided that...that I'm the one. They know I'm capable of it. So do you. How can you know that I'm not guilty? They won't know."

"Oh, Timothy," Ducky said and hugged Tim. "You take too much onto yourself, much too easily. You are not a murderer, and we here at NCIS know that."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, we do, Timothy. Even your former teammates know that of you."

"No, they don't."

"Yes, they do. They do know that and you are winding yourself up into a frenzy without cause."

Tim shook his head again but didn't say anything. He sniffed and wiped at his tears.

"Have faith, Timothy. All will turn out well."

"Yeah, just like last time," Tim said and then got out of the truck, leaving Ducky behind.

Ducky stared after Tim's departing figure and hoped that all would be well...and that the MCRT would exercise their normally-astute powers of observation to notice that Tim was facing quite a bit of difficulty at the moment. He had fallen into funks with the loss of each temporary position. They lasted varying amounts of time, but they always came and left Tim shaky at best for a few days. He was so much better than he had been, but a murder, a sudden forced interaction with his team...and returning to the place he had left. Ducky was afraid it might be too much for him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Well, if it isn't Tim McGee!"

"Hi, Henry," Tim said. "I need a visitor's badge."

"Ah, I thought you might be back."

"Nope."

"All right. What brings you here, then?"

"There was a murder where I work now. A Marine."

"Wow. Coincidence, huh?"

Tim forced himself to smile. "Yeah. Coincidence."

"Hey, McGee! You made it!"

Tim stiffened at Tony's voice but turned and faced him. "Yeah, I did."

Tony's expression faltered and Tim knew that his voice had come out as flat and unfriendly, not simply calm as he had intended. Still, he didn't apologize for it. He took his badge and walked to the elevator.

"Gibbs wanted me to take you to the conference room."

"Okay."

Again, Tim knew he had shut Tony out, but he couldn't seem to find an equilibrium. Tony was trying too hard to act normal. ...and it couldn't be normal; so Tim wished that Tony would act as awkward he felt.

They walked in silence to the conference room. Tim sat down.

"I'll be right back, McGee."

"Sure. Okay."

The door closed and Tim looked around. It was surreal, being in this room, not as an agent but as a civilian witness to a crime.

Not for long, Tim thought to himself.

The door opened and Tim jumped slightly. Gibbs and Ziva came in and sat down across from him. It was so strange being on the other side of the table. He kept wanting to look around...to search for the person they were really interviewing.

"All right, McGee, what can you tell us about this program?"

"I doubt it's why Lance Corporal Smythe was killed," Tim said.

"Why do you say that?" Gibbs asked.

Tim took a deep breath and plunged into an explanation, wondering how long it would take Gibbs to tell him to shut up.

"The system at Quantico is outdated. The one they use for tracking family placements, for salaries and troop locations, not deployments, just locations. It's the same as it's been for years and they're just now realizing how far behind they are and how inefficient the system is. So they did a bid and Soft-Tech won. The information is classified because of privacy issues, not because it contains dangerous data or sensitive military intelligence. It's just that salaries, addresses, troops on base and stuff like that is not for public viewing. So...what I've...what we've been doing for the last six months is constructing an entirely new program. We have the old one for comparison, but they wanted something that had nothing the same as the old one to make sure that there weren't any weak points for hackers and phishers." Tim stopped speaking, suddenly realizing that Gibbs had let him give an entire description without interruption. Obviously, he was nicer to witnesses than he was to employees.

"Anything else?" Ziva asked, looking almost disappointed.

"No. We're almost done. I'd started doing some preliminary data testing last week, to see how it was to upload information, the formatting of the data. I found a lot of bugs in it and so that's what I was working on this week."

"Is that normal?"

"Yes. You never find all the bugs the first time through. There's a line of code you miss, sometimes just a single word. You're coding when you're tired and you forget what you were doing exactly. Then, the next day, you find that you've set up some strange program that makes no sense and you have to go back and fix it. That's why we have multiple people working on it but one person in charge of the system in general."

"And you were in charge?"

Tim his mouth smile, but he knew it was more sardonic than anything. "I tried to be. Didn't really succeed. You're probably not surprised."

"Why would you say that, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Any other questions about the program?" Tim asked, avoiding commenting on a statement he hadn't meant to speak aloud.

"Is there anyone at Quantico who was giving you grief about it?"

"You mean besides Lance Corporal Smythe?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

"No. We didn't really have a whole lot of interaction with the people over there. A couple of planning meetings. ...uh...one of their guys came over to Soft-Tech once to make sure that everything was proceeding as they wanted it to."

"And was it?"

"Yes!" Tim said, feeling defensive before he realized that he was overreacting. "There were a couple of features he wanted us to add, some search capabilities."

"Who did you communicate with on base?"

"I talked with Lieutenant Colonal Bass on the phone. I mentioned him to you before. The technician who came here was... um..." Tim brain suddenly locked up and he couldn't think. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Are you all right, McGee?"

"Yes. I'm fine," Tim said. "He was a second lieutenant. Kim Jin-ho."

"I thought you said that no one from base came to Soft-Tech," Gibbs said mildly.

"I forgot."

"Anyone else you forgot to mention?"

Tim clenched his teeth for a moment but answered. "No. Once the program is completed, we'll set up a demonstration and then there would be a few weeks of training people on the new program...and then a settling in period."

"And then?" Ziva asked.

"Then, Soft-Tech's involvement will be over...and I'll be looking for another job."

"Why?"

"I'm only a temp there. I'm not really an employee. Hal hired me to work on this project."

"All right. Wait here. We'll have a few more questions for you and then you're free to leave."

Tim felt his mouth twist in another insincere smile. "Okay."

Gibbs and Ziva walked out of the room. As soon as they were gone, he let out a long exhalation and dropped his head to the table. It would be a relief when they finally started treating him like a criminal. Anything was better than this.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Ziva, you're with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Quantico. To talk to Lance Corporal Smythe's superiors, verify all the information we have on the program."

"See what people there thought of him."

"Tony, check with Abby. See what she's got so far."

"On it, Boss," Tony said and started to go. Then, he paused, "Boss?"

"What, Tony?"

"Is McGee all right? He seems a bit..."

"He's fine. Get going," Gibbs ordered. "Jamie, you go up there and finish up the interview with McGee."

"Sure, Gibbs." Jamie headed up the stairs.

When she was out of earshot, both Tony and Ziva turned to Gibbs.

"No!" he said before they could speak. "That's it. Just no. We have places to go, David."

"Yes, Gibbs."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Jamie paused outside the conference room door and decided to knock softly to warn Tim that he was going to have company. When she opened the door, he was sitting upright, looking unaccountably tense, but he noticeably relaxed when he saw it was her and not the others...and then Jamie understood why it was that Gibbs was having her finish the interview.

"Hi, Tim. I'm just going to finish up the interview."

"What's left?"

"The other people who work at Soft-Tech, what you know about the inner workings, stuff like that."

"Look, I'll answer all the questions, but I don't think that this program had anything to do with Lance Corporal Smythe getting killed. It's not important enough. ...and people didn't like him, but they liked me a lot less. If they were going to snap and kill someone, it probably would have been me."

Jamie smiled. Tony had reported that Lorenzo had said the same thing.

"Well, let's just jump through all the hoops, okay?"

Tim smiled. "Okay. Fire away."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony was busy for the rest of the day, coordinating with Ziva and Gibbs on information they were gathering, giving reports on Abby's findings (still being processed: bullet was a 9 mm), the reports from Ducky (cause of death: gunshot to the head), and even reporting to Vance on what was happening. It was getting on toward evening by the time he had a moment to sit and think. ...and when he did that, he decided to go down and check with Ducky again, just to see if there were any surprises.

He got a surprise, but not what he expected. He heard Tim's voice, speaking to Ducky. He hung back.

"No need to be so embarrassed, lad."

"I just didn't expect to be coming here, Ducky. I only brought enough with me for the trip from work and then back to my apartment. I don't have enough money with me to go to Dr. Lewis' office from here."

"It's all right."

"I have enough money. I really do! It's just that..."

"Timothy, it's all right, lad. I don't mind lending you some money for now. You can always ask."

"I don't really need to. I've got everything planned out pretty well and I don't have any temptation to buy things I don't need."

"You're going to be coming here more often while the case is going on, I assume?"

"Probably."

"Then, why don't you let me defray the costs?"

"No, Ducky! I don't need that."

"Timothy, it is all right to ask for help. I know how tight things are for you financially. ...now."

There was a soft laugh. "Even when I first moved to DC, I wasn't having this much trouble. ...but then, I had a real job...and I wasn't going to therapy every week. I'm..."

"What?"

"My health insurance runs out soon...once I'm not employed by Soft-Tech. I can't afford to keep going to Dr. Lewis without insurance. ...and I can't afford private insurance when I don't even have a job. I'm going to have to stop going."

"No, Timothy. You can't stop meeting with Dr. Lewis."

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do. I will pay for your sessions once your eligibility expires."

"Ducky...no..."

"Yes," Ducky said, his voice stern. "I may not be able to force you to accept help living somewhere other than that horrible hole in the wall, but you will not sacrifice your mental health. I will not allow that. Understood?"

"Okay, Ducky."

"Good. You let me know the second you need the money. ...and I will check."

Another laugh. "Okay, okay. I'd better get going. I don't want to be late."

"No, you don't."

Tony realized, suddenly, that Tim would be coming out this way and he looked around...before running back to the elevator and pushing the button. Thankfully, the doors opened and he was able to walk off the elevator into the hall, acting as though he was just arriving when Tim came out. He stared at Tony for a long moment.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey, McGee. Lose your way?" he asked.

"I haven't been gone for that long. I was talking to Ducky."

"What a coincidence, that's what I'm about to do."

"Enjoy." Tim walked by him and got on the elevator without looking back. Tony watched him and then walked into Autopsy.

"Ducky?"

"Hello, Anthony. I'm afraid I don't have anything else to tell you as yet. If there are secrets the late Lance Corporal is keeping, he's being quite mum about it."

"Is McGee okay?"

Ducky looked up from his file and then sighed. "He is well enough."

"Ducky...I heard you guys talking."

"It was a private conversation, Tony."

"I know. I didn't mean to hear it...sort of."

Ducky chuckled a bit. "You will not ask Timothy about his finances. He is humiliated enough asking me for help. Your good intentions would be unbearable for him at this point."

Tony nodded reluctantly.

"So...nothing else on our murder?"

"Not as yet. He may reveal something else eventually."

"All right." Tony started to leave.

"Oh, Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"If you do wish to help...covertly, you may give it to me. I can pass it along as though it is from me."

Tony smiled. "Thanks, Ducky."

"Remember...not a word to Timothy."

"I won't."

Tony left and found himself wondering just where Tim was living that was so bad that Ducky was calling it a "hole in the wall". ...and when it was that Tim became so poor that he had to ask for help riding the Metro.