Tap11
0600 rolled around and Tim was still out of it. Pete had tried to wake the man to say goodbye. He didn't have a key, so he couldn't lock up behind him. Finally, he had a stroke of genius, a sad stroke of genius, but a stroke, nonetheless. "Tony's going through your stuff." He harshly whispered into Tim's ear. He jumped back and physically recoiled as he watched on. Tim sprang upright and went for his weapon on autopilot. "Hey, hey. It's only me." Pete soothed. He hadn't realised his boyfriend's reflexes were so finely tuned.
"It's early." Tim mumbled, rubbing his sleep-riddled eyes. "What's going on?"
"Muster, 0700. I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." Pete said, as he kissed the man chastely in the lips. It took a moment for Tim's sleepy brain to catch up.
"OK." Tim said, unsure what Pete wanted him to do.
"How about you climb out of bed and lock up behind me." Pete offered the sleepy man. He could see that the man's brain was completely fried and he hoped that it was from a solid sleep and not anything else. "I have my classes, after work tonight and I'm on call. Friday night? I'll make steaks at my place?"
Tim had followed Pete out of the bedroom, to his door. "I'll see you then." Tim said, kissing him sensually. "Thank you for last night, sticking by me and helping me sleep."
"Next time, I will be sleeping beside you." Pete grinned at him. "Your sofa is awful. But I will suffer through it anytime, if it means that you get a good night sleep."
The two men waved goodbye as Pete made his way out to his car. Tim locked the front door behind him and headed back to bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
His usual Wednesday night dinner was at Tobias' house. Emily had to pack for school camp and Diane was out of town with, who Tobias described as her latest boy-toy, leaving Tobias to look after his daughter. Emily opted for pita pocket pizzas for dinner and Tobias had no idea what the hell a pit pocket pizza was. But Tim did and he and Emily were happy to take the lead, preparing dinner together in the kitchen.
Once dinner was eaten and Emily was back in her room, hopefully doing the homework that Tobias had instructed her to do. He scrutinised his young friend carefully. "You look good. Happy. I like it." He said, decidedly. "How's it going with Pete?"
Tim blushed, thinking back to the hot kisses that Pete had left in his wake, as he was trying to unlock the front door after the movie. "He spent the night." Tim whispered and Tobias gave him a knowing grin. "Oh, not like that. In his sleeping bag on the sofa. He wanted to make sure I had a solid sleep."
"Why not like that, Tim?" Tobias asked his friend. "You like him, he definitely likes you. What's stopping you?"
"We're taking it slow. What if it doesn't work out?" Tim offered his friend, as he dealt his friend the cards he had just shuffled. This was a new addition to their dinners. If dinner was at someone else's house, they'd play a few hands of poker or risk.
"What if it does?" Tobias floated by him, as he rearranged his cards and discarded the two of clubs. "You deserve to be happy. Hell, we all deserve to be happy. Speaking of being happy, you will be happy to know that the FBI lab have finished processing your Porsche and NCIS have authorised the repairs. We sent it to my brother's body shop, hope you don't mind. I know that George does beautiful work. He does the repairs on the FBI fleet cars."
"What else is happening?" Tim asked, as he dealt Tobias a single card and took two for himself. "I haven't heard anything from Tom."
"Well, Abby and Tony were caught breaking into your apartment on Monday night." Tobias began, as he explained everything that had happened, since the two men saw one another last. "Abby was allegedly wearing nothing but a trench coat and some thigh-highed studded and spiky heels."
"I know the pair." Tim groaned out loud. "They're, what she calls, her kinky boots. What was in her bag?"
"How did you know she had a bag?" Tobias quipped, as he laid his two pair out on the table for Tim to see. "What am I saying? Of course, you knew she had a bag."
"Full house." Tim declared, as he laid his cards down and collected the five pretzels in the centre of the table and added them to his pile of pretzels.
"She had three daggers and a double edged decoratively carved silver knife, with a black handle, handcuffs, leather binding cuffs, candles, condoms and lube. It was what Agent Saunders's found in her car that was disturbing. He found tarp, bleach, a plastic tarp, cable ties, ropes and four cement cinder blocks. She also had a false passport under the name Abigail Gibbs, a plane ticket to San Diego and ten thousand pesos in unmarked bills. We believe she was planning to kill you and leave the country."
"First it sounded like she was planning on using me in one of her sex games." Tim concluded, as Tobias dealt the next hand. Looking at the cards his friend just dealt him, he murmured in a low voice. "He who deals these cards, deals trash."
"It's very hard to prove conspiracy to commit rape without concrete evidence. The fact that you two have had a prior sexual relationship, it complicates matters." Tobias delicately explained, as he replaced four of Tim's cards and three of his own. Tim was right, he had dealt a crappy hand. "Good news is that DiNozzo confessed and took the plea, on his lawyer's advice. Two years for each count, served consecutively and two years for the hate crime. Twenty-six years with a chance for parole after twenty-two."
"And Abby?" Tim asked, as he folded the hand. The four replacement cards had been worse than the cards that he'd tossed.
"Refusing to co-operate, despite the evidence that is mounting against her. She is currently in a seventy-two hour psych hold, based on the psychological opinion of our forensic psychologist, Dr. Sweets." Tobias said, as he took the win, which was two pretzels and Tim snapped up the cards and gave them a decent shuffle. "We're going to tack on the attempted murder charge. She's still been spouting off vile hatred, although her new target is Gibbs. Apparently he has abandoned her, in her hour of need."
"He told me he was done with her. At the exit interview, today." Tim elaborated on Gibbs' apologies at the interview and the offer that Vance made, to be friends with him outside of work. Which lead Tim into telling him what had transpired at the cinemas last night between Tim and Pete, and the Vance's.
"Love is love, Tim. Obviously, Vance doesn't care and isn't prejudiced, either." Tobias explained to his friend in a low voice. "Most people aren't homophobic and I know you're not out with your family. But that's not a reason to hide your relationship away, either. You have nothing to do with them. Who cares what they think?!"
"Penny?" he asked his friend, unsure. "She's of an older generation, she might not understand. If I lost my Penny ..."
"If Penny is anything, anything at all like you described and she loves you. She will be OK." Tobias reassured him. "As long as you're happy. I can guarantee that is all your Penny will care about."
"Gibbs, please close the door behind you and come in." Leon muttered, as Gibbs arrived at his house, at the required time of night. It had been an odd request to make, but what he had to tell Gibbs, he didn't want getting around the agency as scuttlebutt. He couldn't risk not being overheard by someone when he gave Gibbs the harsh blow. "You're not going to like what I have to say."
"Just say it, Leon." Gibbs told him honestly. "There hasn't been much I've liked about this week, so just pile on more crap."
"They're adding a conspiracy to commit murder charge to Miss Scuito's list of charges." Vance said softly, expecting the team leader to explode. But he didn't. He just sat there in shock, in defeat. "They found some disturbing items on her on her and even more disturbing things in her car, including a tarp, duct tape, bleach, cement cinder blocks that they believe she was to planning to use to weigh the body down."
"Does Tim know?" he asked, concerned for his former agent.
"I believe the Fornell was going to take care of it." Vance said with a small smile. He remembered the look in Tim's face last night, just before he sped out of the parking lot. The grin, he recalled seeing a look of contentment pass across the younger man's face, too. "I saw McGee last night, out and about. He was smiling. He looked like he was at peace with himself. He looked... Relaxed. I've never seen him like that, before."
"McGee's never relaxed. Are you sure?" Gibbs asked, surprised.
"Yeah, I'd never seen him like this. Got himself a nice little sports car, too." Leon added, reassuring the team leader.
"It's a black beauty, alright. " Gibbs whistled. He had seen it the day before at the Navy Yard. "He told Walt that it is a rental."
"Doctor Mallard, speaking." Ducky answered his cell phone. It was morning tea time, Tim realised something. Something he had forgotten to do.
"Ducky, it's Tim." He identified himself, a little wary of his reception from the older man. He had been meaning to say goodbye on Tuesday, when he had been in the office for his exit interview. By the time he had left, it had slipped his mind and Wednesday had been filled with FBI paperwork and credentials. Weapon re-certification and meeting the new agents on his team.
Much like when he was at NCIS, neither man had suggested or planned it, but they'd unanimously decided not to declare their friendship out in public. Tim had initially been nervous, but he had felt very welcome and appreciated. He had expected push back from the team, but had been surprised to find the lack of push back.
"Timothy, my dear lad. I was beginning to think that you would leave without saying goodbye." He admonished lightly. "I was terribly sorry to hear about your car and even more sorry that the two people whom were once your friends, were the culprits."
"Thank you Ducky, I was wondering if you'd like to meet me for dinner this evening." Tim invited Ducky. "Where ever you like. I apologise for the tardiness of my invite, it's definitely been a week. I meant to telephone you yesterday, however I got caught up with the Bureau all day. Orientation day."
"I'll do you one better, my lad. Meet me at my house, at 6pm." Ducky insisted with gusto. "I owe you a celebratory dinner. Now, I am not exactly sure whom you're speaking to at the agency, but we should be celebrating your promotion. Who are you still speaking to? Here at NCIS."
"Jimmy, You, Ziva, the Director, Gibbs... I guess." Tim replied, hesitantly. "But Ducky, I'd really prefer it if it was just the two of us."
"We can do that, instead." Ducky backtracked, changing his tune. He supposed that Timothy wasn't emotionally ready for the social side of it, yet. "Is anything the matter? You don't require medical assistance, do you?"
"I promise, I am OK, Ducky." Tim chuckled at his friend's, his confidant's caring nature. "I just don't think that anyone else is going to be interested in coming to dinner with me, to celebrate me leaving the team and the agency. Now, about dinner tonight?"
"I'd be delighted to join you. 6pm at my house?" Ducky offered. "I am sure I can whip us up something delicious and nutritious to eat for dinner."
"Save the effort, Ducky." Tim grinned into the phone line. "I invited you to dinner and I can cook too. Please, come to my house. I will text you the address, 6pm is fine."
"I do remember where your apartment is, Timothy." Ducky informed him with his usual cheery disposition. "I am not yet a senile, old man. I still have all of my faculties."
"Duck?" Tim asked, garnering the good doctor's attention. "I moved, almost three weeks ago now. It's a small house, but it's my new home. The only thing I ask is that you not share the knowledge of my new home or its location with anyone at the agency."
"Timothy, you can count on my discretion." Ducky reassured the young man that his secret was safe with him. Ducky looked up and saw Jethro come into autopsy holding out a cup of his favourite tea from the man's caffeine dealer. "But right now, I really must run. I shall see you at 6pm."
As Ducky disconnected the call to Tim, he grinned at his friend. "Thank you, Jethro." His friend had kept his word.
"I take it, that was McGee." Jethro grinned at him. Gibbs was happy that Tim had found it in his heart to reach out to the kind-hearted ME.
"It was indeed." Ducky grinned at his friend. "It seems that he will be cooking dinner for me tonight. He says he can cook. I just hope that his version of cooking isn't like the time you tried to convince me that Diane was a good cook."
"Where is he cooking you dinner?" Gibbs asked gently, he was positive that Ducky would know that his friend was interrogating him. "According to Abby and Tony, he has moved, his apartment was empty."
"Yes, he did say he moved." Ducky said sternly, and surprised. Did Jethro really think that he could get one over on him? "I am to be trusted with his new address and I am under strict instructions to keep that information top secret. I am also advised to watch my tail."
Tim had made a trip to the local market for fresh produce and back home again and began preparing a delicious lemon chicken wrapped in prosciutto with tarragon sauce, over a rice pilaf with steamed greens, a small fruit platter and a chocolate crème brûlée for dessert. Noting the time, Tim dashed in to his bedroom to change out of the sweats he'd been wearing while he was preparing dinner and into a jeans and a shirt. An out fit much more presentable, even though Ducky had seen him at his worse, one hundred times over.
At precisely 5:55pm, Tim heard the unmistakable sounds of Ducky's Morgan in his drive way. He double checked that his small dining room table was set to his standard of perfection. Which it was. He had set the table himself. He took a quick scan of his home, making sure it was clean and tidy, which it was because Tim was a neat freak.
Pulling up out the front of this small, modern home that was covered in a charcoal concrete rendering, had surprised Ducky. He had been expecting an apartment complex or a set of flats. But a small, modern home was unexpected. Ducky actually felt a little off kilter. He knew he had no right to be. It was just a dinner with Timothy, something the two men had done many times before. But this felt different, going to his home, eating his cooking. Ducky was always the one cooking or the two men had always opted to eat out. Honestly, the good doctor didn't know what to expect from tonight.
He steeled himself and garnered up his courage, as he climbed out of his beloved Morgan and rang the doorbell. "Just a sec." Tim called out, as he wiped his hands and headed to answer the doorbell. "Hey, Duck. Come on in."
"Ah, Timothy. This is such a beautiful home. I can see why you fell in love with this property." Ducky said, as he entered Tim's home. "It's such a welcoming home. Much better than that old apartment of yours."
"It's not much but it's a starting point." Tim told him, as he offered Ducky a mineral water or scotch. Opting for the mineral water, Tim continued as he passed Ducky a drink. "Learning about home maintenance and ownership before I take the plunge and buy my first place."
"Well, that's wonderful, Timothy." Ducky praised him. He suspected that Tim didn't get a lot of guidance from his parents. Tim excused himself to check on dinner and wasn't surprised when he looked up and saw Ducky had followed him. Tim began plating up the meal he had cooked and Ducky was impressed. He didn't know that Tim had known how to cook. He had always assumed, that he was like most of the other agents, that he didn't know how to cook. "Timothy, wow, look at this spread."
"Thank you, Ducky." Tim beamed at him, as he took the platters over to the dining table. "I actually enjoy cooking, but rarely have the time or the pleasure to do it for someone else."
"Please, do not take offence, but I was worried." Ducky chuckled, laughing with Tim. "But I can see here, that this would even put me to shame."
"Ducky, no!" Tim argued. Tim knew firsthand that the man was a wonderful cook, too. he didn't want Ducky feeling bad about his culinary skills.
After dinner was eaten and Tim was in the kitchen, clearing up the dishes and making a pot of tea, Ducky approached the elephant in the room. "You didn't invite me to dinner, just to show off your culinary skills. What is on your mind, Timothy?"
"I ... I want to ap ... apologise to you." Tim began, stammering a little. "My feelings towards the agency, the MCRT and my co-workers does not reflect on my feelings for you or for Jimmy. You two have always been nothing but friendly and supportive to me. You've both had my back and I appreciate it more than I can say. You both probably feel like I've let you down. And I have, in a way. But I needed to make this change, for me. I needed to put myself first, for a change."
"Rightfully so, my boy." Ducky beamed at him. "I know that Mr. Palmer and I hold no ill will towards you for making the decision that you've made. A new house is good idea too. You deserve some peace in your life, Timothy. You deserve to put yourself first."
"Thank you for understanding." Tim smiled at him. He felt a lot better than he had before, now he knew that Ducky didn't hold any ill will towards him.
"I want you to promise me, something Timothy." Ducky said in earnest, as Tim busied himself with plating up their dessert. "I want you to promise me that you will keep in touch with me. I would still like to continue our friendship."
"I'd like that too, Duck." Tim replied, handing Ducky a platter with fruit, chantilly cream and chocolate crème brûlée. Ducky had to admit that he had misjudged Timothy, and his culinary skills.
"I do truly wish you happiness in your new job. I hope you find a sense of belonging and purpose at the FBI." Ducky said sincerely, as he took a bite into the decadent dessert that Tim had served. Ducky didn't normally allow himself sweets in the middle of the week. But Timothy had gone to all the trouble to prepare it, it would be rude to refuse. "This is divine, Timothy. I have never tried a chocolate crème brûlée before. You must give me your recipe."
With dinner wrapped up and the dessert eaten, Tim rinsed the last of the dishes and loaded them into his dishwasher. A new novelty that he hadn't had in his old apartment. Ducky had offered his help and Tim had politely declined. Within five minutes, the dishes were loaded and Tim was offering Ducky another cup of tea. The two discussed a few mundane points of life, before Ducky asked Tim how his beloved Penny was doing.
"She's doing really well, Duck." Tim beamed at him. "She's been down in South America, doing research for her latest book. She's been living and working in Ushuaia, Argentina. She's preparing for herself for the next adventure of her lifetime. She's hooked herself in with a research group and she's going to live and work in Antarctica for a month. She'll make the six hundred and eighty mile trip south from Tierra del Fuego. I am so excited for her and a little bit jealous, too."
"But you are having your own adventure of a lifetime, Timothy. A new job and a new house. But promise me you'll put yourself back out there and maybe find a new love, too." Ducky said warmly, smiling at his young friend. Tim smiled to himself and Ducky suspected that maybe Tim had done that too. But Tim kept it tightly under wraps. "No matter who they are, Timothy, make sure they're good enough for you. That they make you happy. It's not a crime to be happy, to have a relationship with someone, maybe even fall in love with that someone."
"That was pretty cryptic, Duck." Tim accused, lightheartedly. "You been listening to idle gossip?"
"No, I haven't Timothy." Ducky grinned at him. "The change is written on your face for he world to see. Whoever they are, whenever you are ready, I would love to meet them. I do wish you every happiness in this new adventure of yours. May you find the peace, you need."
"Thanks, Duck." Tim nodded at him, as the two men shared a companionable silence with one another. However, that silence was short-lived when the shrill ringing of Ducky's cell for a call out to a body dump, prematurely ended their evening.
"Take care of yourself, Timothy." Ducky reminded the young man from his classic Morgan. "Please keep in touch and don't be afraid to call."
Friday morning, Tim was up and dressed, ready to leave his house by 0700. Today, he would be shadowing Tobias for the day, before he took his place on the team as Tobias' senior field agent. Tobias had even agreed to collect him on his way in, since Tim would be issued with his new creds, security passes, parking passes and security clearance today. The beeping of the horn from Tobias' SUV, had Tim locking up his house and climbing to the passenger seat. "Hey, Uncle Tim." Emily called out from the back. surrounded by her oversized bag, pillow and sleeping bag.
"School camp-out?" Tim asked her, nodding his hello to his dear friend.
"Yeah, Shenandoah National Park. We're staying in the cabins there. I wanted to camp out under the stars, but our teachers said no." Emily whined to Tim and Tim could feel her pain, he had been the same at her age. Just as inquisitive, he had that same drive, the same thirst for knowledge that she had.
"Her father said no, too." Tobias grumbled from the front seat, as the eleven year old rolled her eyes at her father and his vehemence. "Do you know how many hikers and campers go missing from national parks every year? Because I do and let me tell you young lady, the number would boggle your mind."
"See, overprotective!" Emily exclaimed as she suddenly saw the same look in her Uncle Tim's eyes as she saw in her dad's. "No one else's fathers are overprotective like this."
"How many times you get called out to a national park or forest, Tim? It never ends well, does it?" Tobias asked, looking at Tim with a serious look. "She's lucky I don't keep her, locked up in her room for the rest of her life."
"Second thoughts ... can't she just stay home?" Tim asked Tobias, with a wink. "Nice and safe in your home. We'll put ten foot fencing around the perimeter with armed guards and barbed wire."
"You're supposed to back me up Uncle Tim, not dad." Emily chastised him, playfully. "Don't go giving him anymore ideas."
"I've had those ideas since the day you were born, sweetheart." Tobias told her, earnestly. "Tim's ten foot tall fence with barbed wire and armed guards. That's your thirteenth birthday present."
The ride in to Emily's school was in a comfortable silence. Dropping her off, hugs were quickly given and Tim was surprised to find himself on the tale end of a hug from Emily too. They watched and waited, in amongst a sea of other parents. The single mom's were ogling Emily's uncle, as were the preteen girls, while other's just mingled in their own clique's.
As soon as they were in the car, Tim turned to Tobias and studied his friend, carefully. "You do know, eventually you're going to have to learnt to trust her. Can't let her live a sheltered life because you're afraid of the unknown."
"Tim, you don't understand, you're not a parent." Tobias admonished his friend. Tim wouldn't understand because he wasn't a parent. "You're barely old enough to be an adult yourself."
"You're right, I'm not a parent." Tim grinned at him. Tobias knew that grin, he dreaded that grin. That was Tim's dead to rights look. The one he got when he knew that he had won his argument. "But I am closer to Emily's age than I am to yours. Trust me, I had the overbearing, overprotective, controlling parent, it doesn't end well. I am not saying give her free rein, but a little slack on the leash isn't going to hurt anyone, Tobias."
"You've got a point." He conceded. "I mean I know how you feel about the Admiral. I couldn't live with myself if my daughter hated me, as much as you hate him."
"Hate is such a strong word. Dislike. Dislike is better." Tim corrected him. "I know firsthand, what it's like to have a father that holds such disdain for his own child's wants and his beliefs. Just look at my life, I don't want the relationship that me and my father share to be the future relationship that you and Em share. You both deserve better."
"There's nothing wrong with you either, Tim." Tobias told him, remembering all the shitty things he had heard about the Admiral and Tim. Recollecting the few not nice things he had heard about the Admiral, by reputation, too. "You deserve better, too."
