Disclaimer : Still own nothing. Just having fun.
Author's Note : Little Tim and Tony bonding in this one.
Many thanks for those who left reviews.
Hope you guys are enjoying.
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3:01am – Residence of James Schaller - West End, Washington, DC –
When Gibbs locates a parking space on the isolated residential street, he barely squeezes the Charger into the spot without tapping the bumper of the car in front of him. After killing the engine, he sees Fornell shakes his head.
"What?"
"Did you really have to drive 90 miles an hour to get us here?"
"Figured it'd be faster."
"It's the middle of the night. Schaller isn't going anywhere."
Gibbs smirks. "You never know."
There's an exasperated exhale. "Do you ever go anywhere at three AM?"
"Depends."
"Of course, you do." Fornell scrubs his hand over his face, then gestures out the windshield. "You know you almost hit the car in front of us, right? This isn't NCIS property, Jethro…it belongs to the FBI."
"It was either park here or walk ten blocks," Gibbs says, already on the street.
"And what if you'd hit that car?"
"I'd've left a note." Gibbs rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, its effect lost in the dark.
Fornell leads the way down the sidewalk, past the streetlamps casting their hazy glow in the misting rain, until they reach the only Victorian house with its porch light still on.
"See?" Gibbs points back to the car. "Only had to walk two blocks."
"You know we could've just double parked."
With a shrug, Gibbs slogs up a brick walkway, half-submerged in puddles. He miscalculates a step, growling when icy water fills his boot. By the time he climbs the porch steps, his foot's freezing. He curses under his breath while Fornell knocks on the door.
When no one comes, Fornell pounds until it evokes a dull thud and a baby's cry inside. After the click of the dead bolt, the door opens to reveal Schaller, clutching an infant in pink pajamas. With the dim porch light highlighting his scowl, he looks even nastier in person than his personnel photo. His eyes dart between the agents. When the baby in his arms begins crying, he rocks her gently.
"Agent Fornell. Agent…?"
"Gibbs."
"Gibbs." Schaller swallows hard. "What brings you here tonight?"
"We need to talk about some things, Jamie," Fornell says solemnly.
"Just let me go get my wife," he replies, gesturing at the child.
"Honey? Is someone at the door?" a tired female voice calls from the top of the stairs.
"Yeah, it's about work. Can you come get Maddie?"
A blonde with mussed hair descends the stairs to pluck the fussing baby from Schaller's arms.
"Would you like to come inside? I can make some coffee while you talk."
Both Gibbs and Fornell shake their heads.
"I need to run to the office, Trish. Don't wait up, okay?" Schaller says quietly.
"You sure? I'm already up. I can have breakfast ready when you – "
"I think," Schaller interrupts, "it's going to be a long night."
When Maddie starts to fuss, Trish rocks her, studying her husband's anguished features. Pulling a deliberate breath, she squeezes his shoulder with her free hand. He hugs her tightly before pressing his lips to the baby's head. Without another word, he slides on his shoes and joins the other agents on the porch. Gibbs watches Trish whisk Maddie back up the stairs.
Why the hell would he give that up?
After Schaller locks the door, Fornell pulls out his handcuffs. "Jamie, what happened?"
There's a long silence.
"Why'd you lie about DiNozzo's meetings?" Gibbs growls.
Schaller shrugs. "I figured the situation would resolve itself."
"That what happened to Conner Colvin?"
While Fornell recites his Miranda rights, Schaller stares intently at his shoes.
The look in his eyes answers Gibbs' question.
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3:22am - St. Boniface Medical Center – Emergency Department, Baltimore, MD –
Waking slowly, Tim thinks he hears something that sounds like music, reminding him of the Big Band era. Confused, he hazards a glance to find a pitch-black room. A bright light flashes over the ceiling tiles, then it goes dark again. The upbeat tempo of the music continues, and Tim rubs his hand over his face, focusing on the television above the door.
Squinting against the haze in his vision, he watches credits from an old film scroll on the screen. He inhales deeply, catching a faint scent of burnt popcorn. The music cuts out and a raucous snore echoes. In the television's glow, Tim can barely make out his teammates' forms, still slouched on the couch.
"For the love of G-d, Zee-vah, why didn't you sleep through Spaceballs?"
A dull thud interrupts the next snore.
"That shall be the last time you wake me."
"Okay, okay, I'm done, just put that thing away," Tony mutters, making Tim chuckle. "Hey, Probster, you awake over there?"
"Yeah." Tim cringes when Tony flicks on the overhead light. "Geez, you could've warned me."
Standing just under the television, Tony grins and clutches a bag of microwave popcorn. "Yeah, but there's no fun in that. How're you feeling, McGoober?"
"I'm good…it's nice to still be…" Tim falters as he swallows hard, "…alive. How are you guys?"
Tony shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, nodding enthusiastically. Ziva rolls her eyes, stretching out to claim the entire sofa.
"We are..." she yawns voraciously. " I am fine…though Tony shall not be much longer. It is nice that you are safe, McGee..." Her voice trails off into an incoherent mumble as she falls back asleep.
"Me too," Tim agrees.
Tony swallows his snack with a grin. "Guess I lost my seat."
Collapsing into a small chair by the hospital bed, Tony turns his attention to the television. Pressing his lips together, Tim studies his face. With a collection of bruises in various stages of healing and a carefully maintained beard, the man barely resembles his senior field agent.
But when Tony turns to offer him the bag of popcorn, Tim smiles at his friend.
"So what are we watching?"
"Bringing up Baby. 1938. Cary Grant, and the beautiful Katharine Hepburn. 'When a man's wrestling a leopard in the middle of a pond, he's in no position to run." Tony stops when Tim shakes his head. "Come on, McReader, you have to have seen at least one movie."
"I saw The Wizard of Oz."
Tony laughs heartily. "That doesn't count. Everyone's seen that."
"Well, what about Star Wars?" The look in Tony's eyes tells Tim isn't enough either. "How about – "
"Your movie education starts now, Probie." Tony smirks. "Stick with me. I might just teach you a thing or two."
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4:09am - St. Boniface Medical Center – Emergency Department, Baltimore, MD –
"Help me get this straight…the leopard's name is Baby? So who's the woman?" Tim asks, eyes still riveted to the television screen.
The soft headslap makes him flinch.
"How many times do we have to go over this?" Tony exhales exasperatedly, running his hand over his face. "Baby's the leopard. The woman's name is Susan Vance, and she's played by Katharine Hepburn. This movie shouldn't be that hard to understand."
"Okay, okay, I think I got it now."
With an agitated eye roll, Tony turns back to the screen and Tim reaches after the soda on his side table. Running his hand over the cool can, he tries to remember how many times he asked that question since the movie started. He lost count after six. Sighing quietly, he swirls his drink inside its container.
He's so desperate to talk about everything. The cartel. Carreras. The girls. Tony's undercover adventure. Ksenia. His near death experience.
He just needs to talk about it all.
But every time he tries to say the words, he can only ask about Baby's true identity.
"Colvin expects me to talk to Carreras tomorrow," Tony announces suddenly.
Tim's eyes widen. "What?"
"Yeah. Apparently he won't talk to the FBI." Tony's mouth pulls into a tighter line. "Colvin seems to think there's something I can do that they can't."
"Do you think so too?"
Tony lets out a humorless laugh. "I don't really have a choice, do I? Gibbs thinks there are more girls out there. If there's a chance that I can get Carreras to talk, I need to take it."
A loud knock on the door interrupts their conversation. Seconds later, it cracks open to reveal a dark-haired woman wearing a white coat over her green scrubs. While she enters, Tony perks up in his seat, discreetly checking out her voluptuous frame.
"I'm glad to see you're finally awake, Special Agent McGee."
"Call me Tim."
When she shoots him an attractive smile, he extends his hand to her, forgetting about his injured shoulder. Suddenly, the edges of his vision grey and his muscles relax. Darkness zooms in on him.
"You back with us now, Tim?" a female voice asks.
His mouth is dry and his head hurts. "Yeah…what happened?"
"You passed out again. You're due for another dose of pain medication, is that okay?"
"Fine."
There's a slight burn in his arm and his senses grow hazy again. Relaxing against the bed, Tim closes his eyes. He listens to Tony and the woman talking.
"How bad is it, doctor?"
Tim's eyes flutter open. "Doctor?"
"That would be me." The brunette gives a smile. "Annika Sorenson, nice to finally meet you."
"Ah, it's a woman behind the curtain," Tim slurs.
Tony raises his eyebrows at Ziva.
"Do not ask me," she says.
Doctor Sorenson genuinely laughs. "Well, I might not have a heart, brain or courage for you…but I've got a nice sling with a surgery referral that'll help your shoulder." She taps her pen against the clipboard in her hands. "Sign these discharge forms when you're ready and you can go home."
She hands him a pile of papers and Tim squints at the squiggled mass of words on them. Too tired to be bothered, he hugs the clipboard to his chest.
"So he's fine?" Tony asks.
"Yeah, torn right rotator cuff, bumps, bruises and dehydration. A lot of those injuries look worse than they actually are, but his shoulder will be an issue. I'm going to give him a referral for a surgical consultation. He's probably looking at a procedure to repair the tear and stabilize the joint. Couple of months in physical therapy and he should be back to work."
"Thanks. We are glad to hear it," Ziva says.
"You're welcome." There's a short pause. "Rumor around the ED is that you guys took on the Angel Caido, is that true?" Tony nods. "Then consider yourselves lucky. I've had some other patients that have crossed paths with them before."
"Oh yeah. What happened to them?" Tony asks.
"You're the only two that I've seen live," she replies solemnly.
Tim grins lazily as their eyes meet. The way the fluorescent light rings her hair mesmerizes him.
"Annika, you're beautiful. Can I take you out for coffee sometime?"
Tim falls asleep before she can respond.