For the next week, Tony struggles to keep himself distracted. He seeks to keep his mind off the fishing expedition that he sent Harris on. It wasn't intentional. Or maybe, in a way, it was. All Tony knows is if something happens to the Internal Affairs agent due to his intel, he doesn't know how he'll live with himself. He needs to take his mind off it.
Tony discovers a random problem that only Tim will know how to fix. Then, he takes a pilgrimage to the sub-basement to talk to the younger man. He sneaks down there to talk to Tim occasionally. He likes to announce that he's running to the head, but Gibbs must know the truth because he doesn't ask when Tony disappears for ten to fifteen minutes at a time. Brahe, though, watches the clock with a deepening frown. By now, she probably suspects Tony has a gastrointestinal disorder or he's hiding in the bathroom to call his date du jour.
In the end, it turns out Tony has even less time to convince Tim to return to the team than he originally thought. While Gibbs told Tony that he had until the first week in December, Gibbs means the first Monday in December when Tony thought it would be Friday. To complicate things further, the week before is Thanksgiving and Gibbs' team isn't on rotation on the holiday.
Did I really think I could convince Tim to come back in twelve days?
On the Monday before Thanksgiving, Tony takes another mission to the sub-basement. This time all he could dredge up was an easy task that includes pulling a bank account balance with a warrant. Even a Luddie like Gibbs could do it, but Tony needs an excuse—any excuse—to visit Tim. Anything less than a job and Tim tends to grow suspicious before closing off again. Even though this job is too easy, it's something. Right now, Tony is grasping at straws. He can change the world with less. Or so, he hopes.
When Tim takes the file, he frowns and looks at Tony incredulously. Tony just plasters his same trademark grin, the one that makes people think there's a movie quote on the way.
"Are you sure you need my help?" Tim asks.
Tony crosses his arms. "Yeah, Gibbs needs it done before he gets out of MTAC. He's on a video call with our vic's CO. I don't have long."
Tim's eyes narrow. "Why didn't you ask Brahe?"
"Because I'd rather have your help." When Tim doesn't move, Tony sucks a breath through his teeth. "And if I ask her, she'll expect me to buy her lunch again. And it's getting expensive."
That news makes Tim tilt his head. "Maybe I should ask for lunch."
"Not going to happen."
When Tim raises his eyebrows, Tony vehemently shakes his head. Tim holds out the file as if telling Tony that he isn't about to do it. Tony barely manages to suppress his grin.
Gotcha, Probie.
Tony makes a show of admitting defeat. "Fine. I can do the pizza place on Q Street."
Tim groans. "Not that place again."
The pizza place on Q Street is where Tony used to take Tim for lunch when he first started on Gibbs' team. The food is downright disgusting, the floors sticky and lighting terrible. But it's fast and cheap, and it was the only place where they can eat and get back to the office in under twenty minutes. A nostalgic smile sweeps across Tim's face, but it never has a chance to settle.
"You're paying?" Tim asks.
Tony nods. "If you get me what I need."
Tim leans back in his chair. "Can I get garlic knots?"
"Depends on whether I get that bank account before Gibbs gets back."
With a quick grin, Tim turns around to dive back into his computer. It doesn't take longer than a minute for Tim to pull Tony's requested information. Tim prints the information out and turns around, papers in hand. When Tony tries to take the pages, Tim doesn't let go.
"I know what you're doing," Tim says.
Tony raises his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"
"You're trying to get me back on the team." Tim uses his jaw to gesture at the papers. "You're trying to show me what I'm missing down here."
"And are you?" When Tim looks up, Tony finishes: "Missing it?"
Tim lets the silence stretch for a long moment until it feels as though there is nothing left between them. If he didn't remain quiet, Tony knows the response would be a quick and easy yes. His non-answer says, yes, more than you'll ever know.
"'I miss the shire,'" Tony murmurs in the best Hobbit accent he can muster.
"Lord of the Rings." Tim cracks a broken smile. "I'm not coming back."
"And you'll let yourself waste away down here instead?"
Tony throws out his hands at the glory that is the low, creepy-blue glow of the computer monitors. It reminds him of Poltergeist and he half-expects a creepy little girl to mutter, "They're here."
Tim drops his gaze to the papers.
Tony sighs. "You're a field agent, McGee. Not a computer tech."
Then, Tim says a little too loudly: "And what if – "
From one of the cubicles nearby, one of the agents gives a loud shhhh! Tony shoots the man a look that could peel the paint from the walls. He'll be back with a DVD player and a movie with lots of explosions—Speed? Die Hard?—once he figures out who is harassing them.
"We're talking about a case," Tony snaps.
"That doesn't sound like a case," a disembodied voice floats back.
"Maybe you should mind your own business!"
At that, Tim's face flushes several shades of red. Tony is ready to keep talking, ready to annoy the hell out of the basement dwellers, but Tim is already on his feet. Silently, he dips his head to lead Tony back to the elevators. Here the lights are bright, the air cooler and the walls farther away. Tony takes a deep breath because he can breathe. It feels like a completely different world.
Now that Tony can see Tim, he sees how bad he looks. Sallow-cheeked and drawn like he is only alive to work.
Tim hugs his arms to his chest. "You don't get it, Tony. I can't come back."
Tony puts his hands on his hips. "Why not? Give me a good reason and I'll drop it."
"Because you and Gibbs didn't trust me."
"And you didn't trust us either." Tony is trying not to get upset, but it's already rising in his voice. "You could have come to me, and I would've helped you. We would've figured it out. You didn't have to go through all that alone."
Hugging his arms to his chest, Tim takes a deep breath. He looks away. Closes his eyes. Tilts his head toward the ceiling. His body shudders as he exhales.
"Let me help," Tony whispers.
Tim just shakes his head. His eyes skirt back to his workstation and in that moment, Tony understands this is the last chance he'll have. If he doesn't show his hand, Tim will walk away for good and come Monday morning, Gibbs will replace him.
"You're better than this," Tony says.
Surprised, Tim looks over. "What are you talking about?"
"You aren't – " Tony gestures back at the darkened work area " – whatever the hell this is. You're a field agent. You shouldn't be here."
Tim rubs at the back of his neck. "I might apply to another position when I'm ready. I'm still working with the agency therapist for clearance. She thinks it might take a few months."
Tony presses his lips together. "That's what I think you don't understand. It won't be easy to get another position. You have a disciplinary mark in your file, Tim. There's also a suspension and you left your team. Do you know how bad that looks?"
The color drains from Tim's face as his mouth pulls into a tiny o.
"It's bad," Tony says. "Really, really bad."
Tim scratches at his chin. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you are…" Tony flinches as he corrects himself. "Because you were my partner."
That makes Tim drop his gaze to his feet.
Tony finishes: "I need to be honest with you. You won't have a shot at another team if you don't come back now."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Tim sounds so broken.
"Come back. Do a year or two and if you still want to, then transfer."
Tim sighs. "But you and Gibbs – "
"Trust you," Tony interrupts. "I think you need to talk that over with the therapist too. Because you are the one that I want on my six. If I didn't want you there, I wouldn't be here right now. I would've let Gibbs replace you while you were suspended. And Gibbs wants you back too because he's holding your job as long as he can."
At that, Tim bristles.
Tony glances toward the ceiling. "He doesn't wait for anyone. Not even me."
They both know it's a lie, but Tim doesn't call Tony out. Instead, he just hugs his arms closer to his chest and blows a breath through his lips.
"If you stay here, you let Ziva win," Tony adds.
That makes Tim set his jaw, shift his weight.
"I think I need to talk to my therapist," Tim admits quietly.
Tony frowns. "You've got until Monday morning because that was Gibbs' deadline."
With a quick nod, Tim turns back toward the sub-basement. He leaves without saying goodbye, moving with a certain assurance. Even if there was something else to say, Tony wouldn't know what it was. After everything he said, he fully expected Tim to confess that he couldn't wait to get back to work. He expected Tim to lead the way to the bullpen. Instead, Tony is heading back empty handed.
Tony takes the stairs instead of the elevator. He needs a few moments to clear his mind, to settle into the thought that he might be staring over with a new probationary agent come next week. If he is honest with himself, he doesn't know what he expects the outcome will be. He can't tell whether Tim will return to the team or waste away down in Cybercrimes for the rest of his career.
When Tony reaches the bullpen, Gibbs looks at him curiously. Gibbs checks behind Tony as if he thought Tim would be there too.
Tony offers a brief shrug before he returns to his desk.
At Tim's old desk, Tyler Brahe glances between the two of them. Based on her look, she is trying to determine just what is going on. She checks her watch before making a note on a piece of paper. Of course she'll be going to Gibbs to rat him out later, once she has enough evidence.
"Are you feeling okay, Tony?" she calls.
He forces a bright grin. "Never better."
"You keep…" Her voice trails off as her eyes skirt toward the men's room.
"I had a big bean burrito for lunch. With extra, extra beans." He waggles his head around. "You know how those go. Montezuma has to get his revenge sometimes."
She gags into the back of her hand. "That's more than I needed to know."
After a quick check on his computer, Tony makes a face. "Get your things, Brahe. We're headed to Alexandria to interview a witness."
Her pretty face turns panicked. "Right now?"
Tony is already grabbing his weapon and his creds. "Yeah. Let's go."
Looking at Gibbs, she gestures at her computer. "I'm kinda in the middle of something. You know, important paperwork. Maybe Gibbs could go with you."
Both of them stare at her. She tries to plead her case with Gibbs with a quiet, "But Tony ate burritos, Boss. I can't do it again. Please don't make me."
"Good luck," Gibbs drawls.
Wrinkling her lip in disgust, she reaches into her desk drawer for her weapon. She is still putting her bag together as Tony starts towards the elevator. Even though she occasionally complains about a task, she tends to do her job without question. He might still be getting used to her, but Tony can already tell she is someone he'll be able to trust as the years go by. She is earnest and hardworking and has the makings of a good agent. And if she can get over timing him in the bathroom, he thinks they have a bright future together.
Brahe catches Tony just as the elevator doors close. She slings on her backpack, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Tony looks over.
She clears her throat. "Can we at least put the windows down?"
Tony shakes his head. "It's pretty cold outside. We might need to crank up the heat."