Later that day
McGee and Abby's Saturday morning had started early because it was a Habitat weekend for Abby and McGee wasn't going to back out just because they had had a week from hell. This last year or two, it seemed like every other week was that busy. But when he heard the whistle from the site leader calling a halt to the work, he had trouble resisting the urge to cheer.
As soon as they got back to Abby's apartment, McGee dropped his go bag in her bedroom and headed to the bathroom. He stripped as he waited for the hot water in her building's ancient water heater to make it to the shower. "I'll be quick," he called out."
"It's fine, Timmy," Abby called back, her voice muffled by the walls between them. "I have to put everything away."
When he stepped out of the shower, construction site grime swirling down the drain, he could hear her in the bedroom. A quick rub of a towel over his hair left it spiky, then he toweled himself dry and wrapped it around his waist as he stepped back into the bathroom.
"Hold that thought, Timmy," Abby said as she dropped her clothes in the laundry basket. "One Navy shower-"
"You hate Navy showers," McGee said.
"Not when I have you naked in my bedroom," she said, darting into the bathroom wearing just the dark purple nail polish on her toes.
"Not actually naked," he called after her.
"You will be," she replied, then the sound of running water filled the air.
She was right. McGee dropped his towel on top of her dirty clothes and pulled back the covers on her bed. Her curtains were light enough that the sun had warmed the bed all afternoon and McGee stretched out on the bed they had left far too early that morning. He strapped on his watch from where he'd dropped it on her nightstand and checked the time. He still had a few hours before he had to get home and feed Jethro. When it was clear they would be working late again last night, he'd arranged for the dog walker to keep the German shepherd overnight, but he definitely needed to go home tonight and make up for the long week with some belly rubs for his dog and an early night's sleep for himself.
Before he could think of anything else, Abby had landed in bed next to him with a bounce. "See, I can do a Navy shower," she said.
Tim tugged the braid that had come uncoiled from the top of her head. "When you don't have to wash your hair," he replied.
"Details, Timmy," she said, then leaned in and kissed him. As damp skin slid against damp skin, the small part of his brain that wasn't distracted admitted that yes, it was just a detail and not really a relevant one.
When they broke apart, she said, "You could have waited for me." She smiled. "We always have fun in the shower."
"Abbs, our kind of fun in the shower stops being fun if I drop you, and it's been a long week," McGee said. "I do not want to have to explain how we got any black eyes or bruises to Gibbs on Monday. Tony and Ziva would never let us hear the end of it."
Before Abby could argue, she yawned. McGee raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, Timmy, you're right. But you don't have to worry about dropping me now." She trailed a finger down his chest and McGee rolled her on her back and leaned in.
When they were done, they were breathing hard and McGee felt the usual mix of revved and relaxed that sex with Abby always left him feeling.
"I really need to leave now, before I decide I don't want to," he said. "Jethro has spent too much time with the dog sitter this week."
"Ooh, Jethro hasn't had any Auntie Abby time in a while," she said. "Do you want company tonight?"
McGee thought for a minute. "You're going to early Mass before we meet for brunch, right?"
Abby nodded. "I like that better than Sunday night Mass, and I don't want to have to rush brunch to get to noon Mass," she said.
"You'd have to get up earlier if you come home with me, and once you're up, Jethro will be, too," he said. "I need sleep too much for that. Tomorrow night?"
She shook her head. "That's bowling night," she said. "The nuns only bowl on Sundays in Lent, and I have to be there, I promised, after last week we caught a case and I couldn't go and we were playing the Sisters of Charity who really aren't very charitable — they ran up the score on the nuns." She frowned. "Are you sure you have to go? We could go to the rum bar before you go home. It's not quite summer yet, but rum drinks on their patio makes it feel like it and it's been so gloomy this week, so a big glass that tastes like sunshine and islands and summer is just what we need."
McGee shook his head. "Abbs, I really need to make it an early night. I'm glad the cases didn't keep us from Habitat this morning, but we started early and yesterday was another late night. You and Gibbs are the only people I know who can actually live on caffeine."
"Tomorrow? We can see if the others want to join us for drinks, too. We haven't had a team night in a while."
He'd never been able to refuse that look from her. "Sure." He leaned in and kissed her. "I'll take Jethro for a run tomorrow before we meet so he'll be tired out and we don't have to rush."
When he left Abby's apartment and tried to make his way through the endless tourist traffic for cherry blossom season, McGee found himself yawning. Definitely an early night tonight. He didn't remember needing this much more sleep than Abby the last time they dated, but if there was one hiccup this time around, it was Abby's willingness to go-go-go all the time. Tim tried to keep up, but he'd found out last year when trying to keep up with Gibbs that he just needed more sleep than either Gibbs or Abby. It hadn't been a dealbreaker — yet — but it kept coming up.
As he settled at home on the couch with Jethro stretched across his lap and the sofa cushions on either side, demanding belly rubs, McGee let himself admit what he'd been refusing to even think out loud: He wasn't sure things would work out with Abby, not long term.
Unlike the first time, the problem wasn't that they didn't want the same thing. Abby was always happy to mix home time with going out, and they spent most nights together, either at his place or hers. But McGee hadn't been this exhausted since he was chauffeuring Gibbs around during the team leader's dislocated shoulder recovery. He hadn't even been writing much because the times when he and Abby were doing different things and she thought he was writing, his brain was demanding that he do nothing more demanding than listen to music or go for a walk or run.
Still, they were working together much better than they had when they first met, and that was the sticking point: He wasn't sure he was ready to give that up. The last year, since that ill-fated trip to Mexico, it felt like they had been run ragged with cases in a way they hadn't in a few years. If they broke up, and it would definitely be for good this time, would he regret it? There was no "third time's the charm" ending here.
If Tony didn't have a boyfriend. That was the one thought that he'd been ignoring. If giving up on Abby as the right person for him, or him for her, left him free to pursue Tony, he probably wouldn't still be debating it.
The squirming on his lap took on a different tone and McGee wasn't surprised to find himself slipping on shoes and a jacket to take Jethro outside. It was that hour when day turned to night and the sky was a deep blue after sunset. Tim strolled along, letting Jethro set the pace as they looped through the neighborhood.
Abby would enjoy this. McGee smiled as he pictured her running conversation with him and Jethro, who always seemed to enjoy his Auntie Abby talking to him even if he didn't know what she was saying. He would woofle back and wag his tail, and McGee knew they spent a lot more nights at his apartment because of Jethro and Abby's love for the dog. They were some of his favorite nights, too, listening to her talking to the dog about all sorts of esoteric things. Abby could talk about almost anything, and Tim loved to listen to her, listen to the nuggets of information he'd never even realized he didn't know about topics he'd never considered.
Apartments. McGee dropped his head back and looked up at the sky, wishing there was less light pollution in and around the city — he could use some wisdom of the cosmos, or at least the sense that there was an enormous world out there much bigger than his. Abby's lease was up in three months. They hadn't talked seriously about moving in together, but it had come up a few times, and they both knew it would be Abby moving in with him, since her landlord still didn't allow pets.
He really needed to figure out what to do before that conversation started.
As he walked back inside his apartment and let Jethro off the leash, McGee decided he could think about that conversation tomorrow, after sleep and brunch, while Abby was bowling with the nuns.