A/N: Thank you, all of you, who have been taking the time to type up reviews. Hearing my readers' reactions helps so much. They help me figure out in which order I should be typing up and posting the chapters.

I know I've been rather heartfelt with the team, sharing their reactions and how they've been dealing with Tim's "death", but I'm going to be a bit merciful and go back to Tim this chapter. We haven't seen him since Chapter 4 because of me wanting to get the funeral chapters out. I'm sure you guys will be happy to see him again.

Enjoy this latest chapter!

Event Six

Tim stared at the DVD in his hands as he slowly tumbled the case back and forth. There was no special, colorful label on it. There wasn't even a proper title. Just seven numbers, making up a date, were written out in Sharpie on the blurry silver of the disk top. It was all Tim needed to know what was recorded on the disk. His funeral.

Agent Rocco had admitted when he delivered the disk that, had he been in Tim's place, he would want to know how his loved ones honored his final wishes. He went on in a laughing tone about how he wanted an elaborate funeral, with strippers, a rapper, and lots of alcohol, and would pay big money to see his little sister's reaction to such an event. Tim had let out a snort in mild amusement but was more focused on the DVD Agent Rocco had just given him. Sensing Tim's split attention, Agent Rocco fell silent and had gone on to focus on his other duties.

The longer he stayed in the safe house, the more Tim was thankful that Agent Rocco was his primary contact. The man knew how to keep him distracted from his current predicament and was sympathetic when the distractions didn't work. Tim doubted Agent Fisher would have even thought to get him a copy of this DVD. Not that Tim planned on watching it any time soon. As morbid as his own curiosity was, Tim knew he couldn't handle watching the video until he accepted the fact that he couldn't go home. He would have to settle for watching the slide show DVD Agent Rocco had also got for him.

"Agent McGee, your transport is on its way." Speak of the devil. Tim let out a wry smile, looking up to Agent Rocco from his seat on the couch.

"Still no idea where I'm going?"

"Sorry." Rocco shrugged. "Agent Fisher is keeping everything close to the chest. He doesn't want to risk a leak."

"Oh. How fitting, for a stuck up agent such as himself." Tim replied sarcastically, pulling a full laugh out of Rocco. "Well, I'm already packed. Any last things you need my help with in the operation?"

"Nope. Just have a safe plane ride and don't die. There is still a small possibility that we can bring you home when this is all over." Rocco joined Tim on the couch as he spoke.

"I can only hope..." Tim let out in a sigh, his gaze returning to the DVD in his hands. Rocco remained silent for a few moments to let Tim think over everything he was giving up.

"Agent McGee..."

"You should probably be calling me Mr. Gray, so as to keep me in character. Or at least Mr. McGee. I don't work for NCIS anymore." Tim interrupted. Rocco gave Tim a frown, turning his full body towards the man next to him.

"Agent McGee, it does not matter that you are going into witness protection or how long you'll be gone for. You earned your title and you will be welcomed back to NCIS with open arms when you do come back. That, I am absolutely sure of." Tim swallowed hard. He knew he deserved the scolding but he couldn't get his mind off the fact that there was the possibility he wouldn't see any of his friends or family again. "Now, as I was saying Agent McGee, we at the Bureau who know that you're still alive are going to sorely miss you. It isn't often that there's an agent at NCIS that we can get along with. I am sure Agents Fornell and Sacks are going to quickly learn just how much buffering you did between them and your team."

"Thank you." Tim set the DVD down on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch cushions, responding on autopilot. Rocco's sudden switch from his usual happy-go-lucky attitude to serious was just making the reality of the situation sink deeper in Tim's stomach. Rocco knew he wouldn't see Tim again any time soon the moment the car drove away from the safe house.

Both men fell silent, not having anything else to say. Agent Rocco wasn't really the one Tim wanted to say his last good byes to and Agent Rocco knew it.

"Welcome to General Mitchell International Airport!" The recording faded into the background roar of the airport as Tim mechanically went through the process of collecting his few pieces of luggage from the baggage claim. Wisconsin. The FBI had sent him to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Dogma references were already pushing their way to the forefront of his mind. He was Matt Damon, Tony was Ben Affleck, and Milwaukee was hell because he couldn't go home. All he needed was a Gibbs version of Alan Rickman popping in to tell a cynical Ziva that she was the last scion and needed to stop him and Tony from getting to a church in New Jersey. And, of course, Ducky and Jimmy were the two Prophets while Abby was Serendipity. Would that make Fornell Rufus and Sacks Azrael?

Shaking his head, taking that reference way too far, Tim turned his attention to the people around him. He needed to find the one holding a sign that said 'THOMAS GRAY'. It had to be the least imaginative undercover name to ever exist, but it wasn't like Tim could argue. At least they picked a first name he technically already went by. A bright yellow poster with said name caught Tim's eye when a group of people dispersed, pulling him in.

"Yes, that's me." He said to the young woman holding the poster. She grinned at him, lowering the poster with one hand as she used the other to push a lock of her platinum blonde hair behind her ear.

"Greetings, Mr. Gray, and welcome to Milwaukee." Her emphasis on the last name told Tim she was fully informed on who he really was. "I'm Special Agent Alice Turner. I know coming to Wisconsin the the middle of Winter isn't exactly ideal, we're colder than an ex-wife's heart this time of the year, but I'm sure you'll quickly find something to enjoy about being here."

"I don't mind being stuck indoors." Tim insisted.

"You say that now." Agent Turner smirked. "But you're in the warmth of the airport. Wait until we actually get outside." She pinned the poster under one of her arms as she slipped on a head band, prompting Tim to drop his bags and rapidly put on the extra Winter gear he had to bring along. Apparently a simple coat, hat, and gloves weren't good enough for Wisconsin. As he looked Agent Turner up and down, though, perhaps the warning was due. Her Winter coat looked to be far thicker than the one he had used back in DC, her scarf was so fluffy that it made her look like she didn't have a neck, her boots were padded enough that Tim would bet that she was actually a couple inches shorter than she currently appeared to be, and Agent Turner was now pulling out another pair of gloves from her pockets even though she was already wearing a pair.

"All that and you only cover your ears?" Turner laughed at Tim's disbelief.

"Never get between a woman and her fashion sense, Mr. Gray. It took me forever to get my hair the way I like it. I'm not going to ruin it by getting hat hair. I'd rather suffer the cold. Though, you're right. You should probably put on a hat. Did they give you one in DC?" Tim pulled the hat in question out of his carry-on bag to show her that they did give him one, putting it on when Turner motioned at him to do so.

"I'll remember that bit of advice for future reference." Tim picked up his bags again, following Agent Turner as she turned on her heel and led the way out into the parking lot. He barely held in his gasp when he hit the sudden wall of cold air just outside the entrance. Ok, everyone else was right. Winter in Wisconsin was cold. If he ever got to go back home, Tim would have to remember the 'ex-wife's heart' comment Agent Turner made so he could accurately describe his time here. Only Gibbs would understand it, sure, but the humor of the comment would not be lost on the others.

"The house we are putting you in is bought, paid for, and in your name. Bills and expenses like water, electricity, gasoline, and groceries are covered by the FBI, so do not worry about those. We will be giving you a special debit card to use to pay for all of that." Turner began to update Tim once they were out of earshot of anyone near the airport entrance. "You will, of course, be given a weekly stipend to spend how you wish, so do not feel obligated to look for a job right away as you settle in. You will continue to receive said stipend even after you get a job, if you choose to look for one, as it'll essentially be your paycheck from us. As you discussed with Agents Fisher and Rocco, we will occasionally ask for your assistance in cases. I am your primary contact in the local office and will stay in constant contact with you, so feel free to start calling me Alice. I leave it to you to figure out how to fit me into your cover story. The house only has basic furnishings since you're free to decorate the place how you wish. We are currently trying to get as many duplicates of your furniture from DC as we can so you have something to start off with, but we make no guarantees."

"That...that's fine." Tim chattered, wondering how Agent Turner was able to speak without her own teeth clicking together. They had finally arrived at the sedan Turner had driven to the airport and she opened the trunk for Tim so he could put his bags in it. He happily dropped the bags in the empty space, tightly hugging himself as he walked around to the passenger's side door. Agent Turner closed the trunk with a thunk as she pressed the button on her controller to unlock the doors, smirking at Tim's actions as she went up to the driver's side door and got in. She quickly turned on the heat as soon as she started the car, deciding to wait a few moments to let the car heat up.

"I stopped by the house to double check that everything was in order and turn on the heat before coming here. It's been long enough that the whole house should be warm, now." Turner gave Tim an amused smile. "I have a feeling you're going to be holing yourself up inside until you push yourself to try handling the cold for extended periods of time."

"Definitely. I thought Fisher was joking when he gave me all this Winter wear." Tim shared a smile, glad to finally warm up.

"I've never known that man to take a joke, let along make one." Turner muttered as she backed the car out of its parking space, pulling a laugh out of Tim.

"True." Tim admitted, remembering that very first phone conversation he had with the man. Fisher had to be one of the stuffiest people he knew. "So, Alice, is gasoline is also being covered as a necessity then it's safe for me to assume that I also have a car?"

Turner grinned at Tim's test use of her first name. She could tell that being Tim's contact for the FBI was going to be an entertaining assignment.

"This one, actually. My own car is back at your house."

"Oh, so I can nose about without feeling guilty." Tim replied, immediately opening the glove compartment to prove his point. Turner shook her head in amusement.

"And Agent Rocco expressed concern that you wouldn't be able to go out and meet new people."

"My partner back at NCIS is the nosiest human to ever exist. You learn a thing or two after spending a few years with him." Tim explained, closing the glove compartment. "Though, that reminds me. Do I have any restrictions? Jobs I shouldn't apply for, things I shouldn't purchase, the works."

"We don't want you applying for another law enforcement job, so stay clear of the local leos. You can go for a computer-related career, though, so have fun with that. As for items you can own, I can't think of anything you wouldn't be allowed to have." Turner scrunched her nose, trying to remember if there were any ownership restrictions for Tim.

"So I can purchase personal weapons."

"Huh?" Turner was a bit surprised Tim was immediately asking about being allowed to have personal protection. Most of the previous people she had dealt with in Witness Protection hadn't even wanted her to wear her own gun on their property for at least a couple months.

"Brownings, Colts, Rugers...you know. Guns and knives people buy for personal ownership." Tim's lips twitched at the irony of his request. A handful of years ago and he wouldn't have even humored the idea of asking about personal weapons.

"I can't think of a reason why you wouldn't be able to buy those." Turner started up again when her brain finally registered Tim's question. "We gave you a spotless record."

"Good to know. I already had one."

"That's not what I meant." Turner immediately corrected herself in response to Tim's sarcasm. "You're not a felon we're giving protection because you provided State's evidence. You're a federal agent with a hit on his head. I'm actually surprised we're not giving you a gun. But I'll do some checking when I get back to the office just to make sure. Unless Fisher put a block on you being allowed to get things like that, you should be home free."

"Great." Satisfied that he had suitably messed with Turner enough, Tim began to fiddle with the radio. He scanned from station to station, not lasting more than a few seconds on each before he'd move on to more static and another few seconds of a station.

"Tim...khsssh...don't give up...khsssh..." Tim tilted his head, wondering what that garbled commercial or song had been about, before returning to scanning the various stations of the Milwaukee area.