Keryl Raist's Blog, page 2
February 23, 2015
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 414: With the Flow
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 414: With the Flow
"There's absolutely no shot of me getting you to take that thing off, is there?" Penny asks Ducky as they head to American University's chapter of No Illegal Humans.
Ducky touches his bowtie, his red, elephant-bedecked bowtie, knowing immediately what the offending garment is."My dear, if they cannot stand this level of mild provocation, how are they possibly going to work with Jethro?"Penny inclines her head, that's a point. And she did get him to take the American Flag pin off his suit, so that was saying something. She sighs. Ducky has been a welcome and charming companion for all of her interactions with the adult, science activities on campus. She is, however, somewhat wary of bringing what is very obviously a cis-het-white-male-oppressor into the younger, political side of things.But, wary or not, they're going."Shall I be Dr. Langston or Mallard?" Ducky asks as they stroll across the campus.Penny smiles at that and then shakes her head. "If you're Langston, they'll assume I took your last name, and that loses both of us points.""Mallard-Langston has a ring to it, don't you think? And if I've got the hyphenated name…"Penny smiles. She'll be amused to see how the twenty-something activists will parse that. "Sure, Dr. Mallard-Langston. Though Ducky will probably work well, too. Most of these kids go by first name only."Ducky nods.It's a pleasant group. More welcoming, especially toward Ducky, than Penny was expecting, but… It's boring. She supposes there's a possibility that they are keeping things tame because she and Ducky are new to the group, and old in years, and thus presumed to be conservative about law breaking and whatnot, but…It's a letter writing campaign.Apparently one of the kids, a poly-sci major has been working on a dissertation on maximizing political responsiveness while minimizing representation. (He's trying to prove that Congress and the Senate should be one body of 1,425 representatives. In other circumstances, both Penny and Ducky would find his research interesting.) However, in his number crunching, he's come up with a formula for exactly how likely a given politician is to sway an opinion based on how many letters he gets, pro or con, from registered voters in his district.He's got numbers on how much more valuable physical mail is over emails, let alone petitions. Apparently physical mail indicates an older person. Older, registered voters are much more likely to vote than young people… So, they've got paper, envelopes, stamps, pens, and lists of names of registered voters they're going to pretend to be, from districts all over the country. Then over the next week, different members of the group are going on road trips to mail the letters from the right Post Offices.In that Penny and Ducky have "grown-up" or "classical" handwriting ("Old" is the word the kids are trying not to use. Legible cursive would be the most descriptive term for it.) they're actually quite popular with this group.Some of them are copying a few of Ducky's letters verbatim because his writing is clear, attractive, and does not sound like it was written by a twenty-two-year-old.As they head off, Ducky says to Penny, "Do you suppose I should have mentioned that if you do write an actual letter to your Congressman, he will send one back, and a large number of very surprised people will likely be calling their Congressmen soon?"She laughs at that. "They'll figure it out. Coffee?""Certainly."Once they're seated in a small café on campus, Ducky sends a text to Jethro. Meeting accomplished.A few minutes later, as Penny comes back with a raspberry Italian soda for herself, a cup of iced-coffee for Ducky, a mug of black coffee for Jethro, and a plate of cookies for all three of them, he gets back. Just dropped Tim off. Over in a few minutes."And how is Timothy?" Ducky asks as Jethro sits down. He's always a bit on edge when Duck or Penny picks the place. Ducky because he usually goes for spots that are way too damn fancy, and Penny because… because she picks places like here, where everything just feels... off.He can't pronounce half the drinks, and all of the food is organic, fair trade, vegan, granola and sprout-oriented stuff that he probably would like if Breena was serving it, but his Marine soul is rebelling against it here. The tables are tiny, almost afterthoughts, the seats are all fluffy, the art is… eclectic, that's the nice word, right? Ugly as sin and clashes with everything is the less polite version, and the music annoys him on principal alone.Penny's grinning at him, enjoying this way too much.At least the coffee is good."Doing okay, Duck. My truck's got less metal in it than his arm." Every time they look at the scans his knee aches in sympathy and his stomach clenches. "Doc says spring before he gets full use of his hand back. But he's down to just a cast on his wrist and fingers, and they're starting up on getting his shoulder moving again. That's good, right?""Yes it is."Gibbs takes a sip of his coffee, and for as much of the vibe of this place annoys him, he's going to have to buy a bag of whatever this is, because it is tasty. He glares at Penny again and she smirks, very pleased with herself. Gibbs rolls his eyes, he's seen that look on Tim, too."How'd your meeting go?""We impersonated members of different congressional districts and wrote letters," Ducky says dryly.Gibbs shakes his head. "Mail fraud? You guys really know how to skirt the edge, don't you?""You know us dangerous radicals, right Jethro?" Penny adds."We impressed a cadre of children by having functional cursive skills and a command of basic written English." If Ducky's delivery was dry before, he's verging on Saharan now."No dice, then?"Penny shrugs. "One of the grad students looked… I don't know. I got the sense he may have been looking for more, too."Ducky nods. "It's only a feeling. And more may be anything from protesting in the streets to doing something useful. I have no idea if he may have any deeper connections.""Just a feeling of restlessness.""Cop?" Gibbs asks."No." Ducky shakes his head definitively as he takes a drink of his own coffee. "I'm sure I would have made him if he'd been a cop. Not that sort of restlessness."Gibbs nods, undercover cops usually have a sort of feel to them. He can usually pick them up pretty easily. "Mosque on Thursday?"Penny nods. "Yes. I'm running a talk on how to register to vote. Some of the ladies are newly citizens and have never lived anywhere they've been able to vote. Some of them were born here, but their husbands/fathers/brothers are not enthusiastic about them voting. The Imam is though, and was happy to let me grab one of the side rooms for a quick how to register and how to vote—""How?" Jethro's got an eyebrow up."The literal mechanism. How the machine works."He holds his hands up. "Just pokin' ya.""Uh huh." She's giving him the smartass look.Gibbs grins back. "Semper's all set. Got her registered yesterday. She's water legal now. How about your end?""As of Wednesday we are the registered officers of Sojourner Inc," Ducky replies."Sojourner?" Gibbs asks."Penny thought there was a certain eloquence to naming the company after a woman who led others through dangerous lands to set them free.""That's also the name of the boat," Penny says. "Paperwork for that should be done by Monday."Gibbs nods. "I'll get her set to carry either registration as needed."Ducky fiddles with his glass. "So, as of now, all we are waiting for is the proverbial damsel in distress?"Penny laughs. "It would appear so." She takes a sip of her drink. "Were you serious about having me come along?""If you wanted to. I'd think being stuck on a tiny boat with a man you don't know, and a dog, would be unsettling for a lot of these girls. I'd think we'd want them looking and acting as… western… as possible when we get in sight of land, round here, this time of year, that's shorts and t-shirts and pony tails, and… And compared to Pakistan or Afghanistan or where ever, that'll be hard enough, with just me for company… Don't want them feeling… abused by it, ya know?""It will be easier to be the kindly old grandfather if there is a grandmother around, as opposed to being the dirty, old letch?" Ducky adds.Gibbs nods. "Yeah." He fiddles with his cup. "Been thinking about that some. Trying to figure out how to keep 'em covered enough so it's not too uncomfortable, but western enough so I can sail 'em on past without getting a second look. Long t-shirt, those flannel PJ pants Abby likes, bandanna or something like that for the hair…""Let's actually meet the girl before we get planning, Jethro. For all you know, she'll be happy to hop into whatever makes it easiest for her to get into the country.""Yeah. I can hope, right?""We can hope.""I know we're all gathering at Abby's house for dinner tonight, anything to fill your time between now and then?" Ducky asks."Heading over to the house for a bit. Got some errands to run." Gibbs's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and sees it's a text from Ziva to him and Abby."Case is still hot. No Tony or Ziva tonight."Penny squeezes his hand as he says that. "Missing it?"He nods. "Yeah. Tim's all fired up, tech stuff coming out at a million words a minute. Abby's guys are finding trace in places we didn't use to know to look for trace. Jimmy's done on this one, unless Tony gets custody of the bodies, and he doesn't think he will. Tony's running a case with four other agencies over three continents. I see what they're doing with it, and yeah, I miss it, a lot."Ducky smiles at him. "While Jimmy was in California, and I was back, overseeing Dr. Allan, that felt remarkably useful, in a way I hadn't for months and am afraid I'm not going to, again."Gibbs nods. "Yeah. One of these day's a ghost'll pop up and they'll call me back in, but… Yeah, I miss it."They both take sips of their drinks, and Penny watches them, wishing she could help fill the hole careers that were entire lives left in their wake."One day at a time."Gibbs takes another drink. "Yep." Then he stands up. "Gotta get moving if I'm going to be at Tim and Abby's by seven. See you there."He makes it to the house in less than an hour. Given traffic and where the coffee shop was (wrong side of DC) he made epic time.There's really not much he needs to do here, today. There are things he can do. More siding needs to go up. He could start arranging piles of shingles around the place so once they're up on the roof they're easily located. He could start ripping out drywall.But he's not.
He heads over to the boathouse and opens the doors, and then scrambles up Semper's side and into the cabin. He supposes there should be more hoopla for a maiden voyage, but he also likes the idea of the first time out being just the two of them.He gets her engine going, and pulls her out. Once he's free of the boathouse, he shuts it off, and begins to set his sails. Won't be out too long, but he wants some time with her.Jimmy's not nearly as joking as it could have been comment about the last time he did this wasn't dead on, but it wasn't as far off as he wishes it was. It's been twenty-five years since he was on a sailboat. But he did do it way more than once.But the last time he was on one, in the water, it was a rented boat, his girls were with him, they were on the Pacific Ocean, and it was a balmy winter day.So, right now, beyond the gentle sensation of moving water and the feel of the ropes under his hands as he goes about catching the breeze, this is basically nothing like the last time he did it.He can see them, both sitting on the rail of that boat, watching him, talking, laughing."Do you like it?" He wishes Shannon would answer, but he knows, in a way he didn't before, that he's talking to himself, just getting the ideas out. And he also knows, as he feels the tug of the wind catching sail, that he's not just talking about Semper. "I hope you do."He nudges her over a bit, heading into the current. "I think you'd like Abbi. Feels weird to say that. Would have liked you to have met her." He shakes his head at that, too. "Okay, that feels even weirder." Which doesn't mean it isn't true. He remembers Penny saying that Ducky and Nelson would have gotten along. Maybe he'll talk with her about this when they get on the water together."Don't know what you would have said about John, or training Jimmy. Wonder if that's the sort of thing we wouldn't have talked about. I would have done it, and you would have known, and just sort of, given me that look, when I'd head out, the one that said it was okay." He smiles at that memory. He had more than a few missions where he couldn't say what he was doing, but she'd always nod at him when he left, tell him to be careful."I'm being careful." He stares into the blue sky above, feeling the wind on his face. "And I'm filling up the hours, some more useful than others. And there are a lot of things I'd like to say to you, share with you, but… but not getting to say them doesn't hurt so bad anymore."He tacks starboard, seeing how she handles. Semper swings easy and responsive through the turn. Gibbs nods."She's sweet and solid, got a good feel to her, and I want to do good things with her. Make a difference."Maybe get the Palmers out here on Sunday. Not sure if Breena wants Molly on here, though. She's a little too happy to hop into the water first shot she gets. Might decide to try that cannonball trick off the side." Gibbs laughs at that idea. "Gotta get some little life vests." He realizes he's not wearing one. "Get some big ones, too.He tacks again, aft this time, and Semper's just as sweet in the other direction. "Kind of wish I could get Tim on here. Penny wonders how much of him getting seasick is actually about boats. You remember that movie you made me watch, stupid comedy thing, with the guy who drew comics about cute and fluffy bunnies and didn't like boats… Kind of wonder how far a good experience on a boat would go to helping with all of this." He takes a sip of the coffee in his thermos. "Probably not far enough. Don't think I can get him on one voluntarily. Not unless it's a crime scene, and these days…" Gibbs shakes his head. "Don't think he's ever getting back on a ship. Not if he can help it." Thinking of Tim makes him think of Sean."Got our first boy." He smiles at that. "Yeah, I know. Still makes me smile. Wondering if Ziva's got one in the works. Could be Tony's just making sure Bishop gets good experience. That'd make sense. I'd do that. Ziva knows field work better than any of them; she doesn't need practice. But, if you're going abroad, usually you take the person who speaks the languages, right?"She says the case is still hot, won't be at Shabbos tonight. Not sure what can be that hot. Tony's not getting back until morning. Manhunt's been handed off. They both tell me about how cases now just go on and on. All the intel Tim's getting will take weeks to go through, not like burning the midnight oil will help. But if she's tired, or feeling off, or doesn't want all of us immediately noticing when she skips the wine… That'd make sense." Gibbs grins. "Wonder if Tony knows, yet." Then he laughs, imagining telling Tony his first child is on the way. "That'll be fun."He ties off the sail, happy with the direction they're going, and sits, comfortably, on the rail. "Or maybe I've got grandbabies on the brain."His eyes scan the banks, watching what looks like unbroken miles of trees passing by. Of all the places and ways he could have ended up, this one seems pretty good. "You remember, back in the diner, telling me I couldn't have both? Couldn't have you and NCIS. I wanted both. Still do. But… I'm okay with what I got."
Chapter 414: With the Flow
"There's absolutely no shot of me getting you to take that thing off, is there?" Penny asks Ducky as they head to American University's chapter of No Illegal Humans.
Ducky touches his bowtie, his red, elephant-bedecked bowtie, knowing immediately what the offending garment is."My dear, if they cannot stand this level of mild provocation, how are they possibly going to work with Jethro?"Penny inclines her head, that's a point. And she did get him to take the American Flag pin off his suit, so that was saying something. She sighs. Ducky has been a welcome and charming companion for all of her interactions with the adult, science activities on campus. She is, however, somewhat wary of bringing what is very obviously a cis-het-white-male-oppressor into the younger, political side of things.But, wary or not, they're going."Shall I be Dr. Langston or Mallard?" Ducky asks as they stroll across the campus.Penny smiles at that and then shakes her head. "If you're Langston, they'll assume I took your last name, and that loses both of us points.""Mallard-Langston has a ring to it, don't you think? And if I've got the hyphenated name…"Penny smiles. She'll be amused to see how the twenty-something activists will parse that. "Sure, Dr. Mallard-Langston. Though Ducky will probably work well, too. Most of these kids go by first name only."Ducky nods.It's a pleasant group. More welcoming, especially toward Ducky, than Penny was expecting, but… It's boring. She supposes there's a possibility that they are keeping things tame because she and Ducky are new to the group, and old in years, and thus presumed to be conservative about law breaking and whatnot, but…It's a letter writing campaign.Apparently one of the kids, a poly-sci major has been working on a dissertation on maximizing political responsiveness while minimizing representation. (He's trying to prove that Congress and the Senate should be one body of 1,425 representatives. In other circumstances, both Penny and Ducky would find his research interesting.) However, in his number crunching, he's come up with a formula for exactly how likely a given politician is to sway an opinion based on how many letters he gets, pro or con, from registered voters in his district.He's got numbers on how much more valuable physical mail is over emails, let alone petitions. Apparently physical mail indicates an older person. Older, registered voters are much more likely to vote than young people… So, they've got paper, envelopes, stamps, pens, and lists of names of registered voters they're going to pretend to be, from districts all over the country. Then over the next week, different members of the group are going on road trips to mail the letters from the right Post Offices.In that Penny and Ducky have "grown-up" or "classical" handwriting ("Old" is the word the kids are trying not to use. Legible cursive would be the most descriptive term for it.) they're actually quite popular with this group.Some of them are copying a few of Ducky's letters verbatim because his writing is clear, attractive, and does not sound like it was written by a twenty-two-year-old.As they head off, Ducky says to Penny, "Do you suppose I should have mentioned that if you do write an actual letter to your Congressman, he will send one back, and a large number of very surprised people will likely be calling their Congressmen soon?"She laughs at that. "They'll figure it out. Coffee?""Certainly."Once they're seated in a small café on campus, Ducky sends a text to Jethro. Meeting accomplished.A few minutes later, as Penny comes back with a raspberry Italian soda for herself, a cup of iced-coffee for Ducky, a mug of black coffee for Jethro, and a plate of cookies for all three of them, he gets back. Just dropped Tim off. Over in a few minutes."And how is Timothy?" Ducky asks as Jethro sits down. He's always a bit on edge when Duck or Penny picks the place. Ducky because he usually goes for spots that are way too damn fancy, and Penny because… because she picks places like here, where everything just feels... off.He can't pronounce half the drinks, and all of the food is organic, fair trade, vegan, granola and sprout-oriented stuff that he probably would like if Breena was serving it, but his Marine soul is rebelling against it here. The tables are tiny, almost afterthoughts, the seats are all fluffy, the art is… eclectic, that's the nice word, right? Ugly as sin and clashes with everything is the less polite version, and the music annoys him on principal alone.Penny's grinning at him, enjoying this way too much.At least the coffee is good."Doing okay, Duck. My truck's got less metal in it than his arm." Every time they look at the scans his knee aches in sympathy and his stomach clenches. "Doc says spring before he gets full use of his hand back. But he's down to just a cast on his wrist and fingers, and they're starting up on getting his shoulder moving again. That's good, right?""Yes it is."Gibbs takes a sip of his coffee, and for as much of the vibe of this place annoys him, he's going to have to buy a bag of whatever this is, because it is tasty. He glares at Penny again and she smirks, very pleased with herself. Gibbs rolls his eyes, he's seen that look on Tim, too."How'd your meeting go?""We impersonated members of different congressional districts and wrote letters," Ducky says dryly.Gibbs shakes his head. "Mail fraud? You guys really know how to skirt the edge, don't you?""You know us dangerous radicals, right Jethro?" Penny adds."We impressed a cadre of children by having functional cursive skills and a command of basic written English." If Ducky's delivery was dry before, he's verging on Saharan now."No dice, then?"Penny shrugs. "One of the grad students looked… I don't know. I got the sense he may have been looking for more, too."Ducky nods. "It's only a feeling. And more may be anything from protesting in the streets to doing something useful. I have no idea if he may have any deeper connections.""Just a feeling of restlessness.""Cop?" Gibbs asks."No." Ducky shakes his head definitively as he takes a drink of his own coffee. "I'm sure I would have made him if he'd been a cop. Not that sort of restlessness."Gibbs nods, undercover cops usually have a sort of feel to them. He can usually pick them up pretty easily. "Mosque on Thursday?"Penny nods. "Yes. I'm running a talk on how to register to vote. Some of the ladies are newly citizens and have never lived anywhere they've been able to vote. Some of them were born here, but their husbands/fathers/brothers are not enthusiastic about them voting. The Imam is though, and was happy to let me grab one of the side rooms for a quick how to register and how to vote—""How?" Jethro's got an eyebrow up."The literal mechanism. How the machine works."He holds his hands up. "Just pokin' ya.""Uh huh." She's giving him the smartass look.Gibbs grins back. "Semper's all set. Got her registered yesterday. She's water legal now. How about your end?""As of Wednesday we are the registered officers of Sojourner Inc," Ducky replies."Sojourner?" Gibbs asks."Penny thought there was a certain eloquence to naming the company after a woman who led others through dangerous lands to set them free.""That's also the name of the boat," Penny says. "Paperwork for that should be done by Monday."Gibbs nods. "I'll get her set to carry either registration as needed."Ducky fiddles with his glass. "So, as of now, all we are waiting for is the proverbial damsel in distress?"Penny laughs. "It would appear so." She takes a sip of her drink. "Were you serious about having me come along?""If you wanted to. I'd think being stuck on a tiny boat with a man you don't know, and a dog, would be unsettling for a lot of these girls. I'd think we'd want them looking and acting as… western… as possible when we get in sight of land, round here, this time of year, that's shorts and t-shirts and pony tails, and… And compared to Pakistan or Afghanistan or where ever, that'll be hard enough, with just me for company… Don't want them feeling… abused by it, ya know?""It will be easier to be the kindly old grandfather if there is a grandmother around, as opposed to being the dirty, old letch?" Ducky adds.Gibbs nods. "Yeah." He fiddles with his cup. "Been thinking about that some. Trying to figure out how to keep 'em covered enough so it's not too uncomfortable, but western enough so I can sail 'em on past without getting a second look. Long t-shirt, those flannel PJ pants Abby likes, bandanna or something like that for the hair…""Let's actually meet the girl before we get planning, Jethro. For all you know, she'll be happy to hop into whatever makes it easiest for her to get into the country.""Yeah. I can hope, right?""We can hope.""I know we're all gathering at Abby's house for dinner tonight, anything to fill your time between now and then?" Ducky asks."Heading over to the house for a bit. Got some errands to run." Gibbs's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and sees it's a text from Ziva to him and Abby."Case is still hot. No Tony or Ziva tonight."Penny squeezes his hand as he says that. "Missing it?"He nods. "Yeah. Tim's all fired up, tech stuff coming out at a million words a minute. Abby's guys are finding trace in places we didn't use to know to look for trace. Jimmy's done on this one, unless Tony gets custody of the bodies, and he doesn't think he will. Tony's running a case with four other agencies over three continents. I see what they're doing with it, and yeah, I miss it, a lot."Ducky smiles at him. "While Jimmy was in California, and I was back, overseeing Dr. Allan, that felt remarkably useful, in a way I hadn't for months and am afraid I'm not going to, again."Gibbs nods. "Yeah. One of these day's a ghost'll pop up and they'll call me back in, but… Yeah, I miss it."They both take sips of their drinks, and Penny watches them, wishing she could help fill the hole careers that were entire lives left in their wake."One day at a time."Gibbs takes another drink. "Yep." Then he stands up. "Gotta get moving if I'm going to be at Tim and Abby's by seven. See you there."He makes it to the house in less than an hour. Given traffic and where the coffee shop was (wrong side of DC) he made epic time.There's really not much he needs to do here, today. There are things he can do. More siding needs to go up. He could start arranging piles of shingles around the place so once they're up on the roof they're easily located. He could start ripping out drywall.But he's not.
He heads over to the boathouse and opens the doors, and then scrambles up Semper's side and into the cabin. He supposes there should be more hoopla for a maiden voyage, but he also likes the idea of the first time out being just the two of them.He gets her engine going, and pulls her out. Once he's free of the boathouse, he shuts it off, and begins to set his sails. Won't be out too long, but he wants some time with her.Jimmy's not nearly as joking as it could have been comment about the last time he did this wasn't dead on, but it wasn't as far off as he wishes it was. It's been twenty-five years since he was on a sailboat. But he did do it way more than once.But the last time he was on one, in the water, it was a rented boat, his girls were with him, they were on the Pacific Ocean, and it was a balmy winter day.So, right now, beyond the gentle sensation of moving water and the feel of the ropes under his hands as he goes about catching the breeze, this is basically nothing like the last time he did it.He can see them, both sitting on the rail of that boat, watching him, talking, laughing."Do you like it?" He wishes Shannon would answer, but he knows, in a way he didn't before, that he's talking to himself, just getting the ideas out. And he also knows, as he feels the tug of the wind catching sail, that he's not just talking about Semper. "I hope you do."He nudges her over a bit, heading into the current. "I think you'd like Abbi. Feels weird to say that. Would have liked you to have met her." He shakes his head at that, too. "Okay, that feels even weirder." Which doesn't mean it isn't true. He remembers Penny saying that Ducky and Nelson would have gotten along. Maybe he'll talk with her about this when they get on the water together."Don't know what you would have said about John, or training Jimmy. Wonder if that's the sort of thing we wouldn't have talked about. I would have done it, and you would have known, and just sort of, given me that look, when I'd head out, the one that said it was okay." He smiles at that memory. He had more than a few missions where he couldn't say what he was doing, but she'd always nod at him when he left, tell him to be careful."I'm being careful." He stares into the blue sky above, feeling the wind on his face. "And I'm filling up the hours, some more useful than others. And there are a lot of things I'd like to say to you, share with you, but… but not getting to say them doesn't hurt so bad anymore."He tacks starboard, seeing how she handles. Semper swings easy and responsive through the turn. Gibbs nods."She's sweet and solid, got a good feel to her, and I want to do good things with her. Make a difference."Maybe get the Palmers out here on Sunday. Not sure if Breena wants Molly on here, though. She's a little too happy to hop into the water first shot she gets. Might decide to try that cannonball trick off the side." Gibbs laughs at that idea. "Gotta get some little life vests." He realizes he's not wearing one. "Get some big ones, too.He tacks again, aft this time, and Semper's just as sweet in the other direction. "Kind of wish I could get Tim on here. Penny wonders how much of him getting seasick is actually about boats. You remember that movie you made me watch, stupid comedy thing, with the guy who drew comics about cute and fluffy bunnies and didn't like boats… Kind of wonder how far a good experience on a boat would go to helping with all of this." He takes a sip of the coffee in his thermos. "Probably not far enough. Don't think I can get him on one voluntarily. Not unless it's a crime scene, and these days…" Gibbs shakes his head. "Don't think he's ever getting back on a ship. Not if he can help it." Thinking of Tim makes him think of Sean."Got our first boy." He smiles at that. "Yeah, I know. Still makes me smile. Wondering if Ziva's got one in the works. Could be Tony's just making sure Bishop gets good experience. That'd make sense. I'd do that. Ziva knows field work better than any of them; she doesn't need practice. But, if you're going abroad, usually you take the person who speaks the languages, right?"She says the case is still hot, won't be at Shabbos tonight. Not sure what can be that hot. Tony's not getting back until morning. Manhunt's been handed off. They both tell me about how cases now just go on and on. All the intel Tim's getting will take weeks to go through, not like burning the midnight oil will help. But if she's tired, or feeling off, or doesn't want all of us immediately noticing when she skips the wine… That'd make sense." Gibbs grins. "Wonder if Tony knows, yet." Then he laughs, imagining telling Tony his first child is on the way. "That'll be fun."He ties off the sail, happy with the direction they're going, and sits, comfortably, on the rail. "Or maybe I've got grandbabies on the brain."His eyes scan the banks, watching what looks like unbroken miles of trees passing by. Of all the places and ways he could have ended up, this one seems pretty good. "You remember, back in the diner, telling me I couldn't have both? Couldn't have you and NCIS. I wanted both. Still do. But… I'm okay with what I got."
February 22, 2015
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 413: Right Hand
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 413: Right Hand
Tim's up at his usual time, going through his usual routine (today he gets stretch out and slow shower time, yesterday he was on feed Kelly/make breakfast) and thinking about what to do with the teenager who is likely still sleeping in his guest room.He's thinking it'd probably qualify as creepy to head in and leave a note for her.Which is when he remembers that he lives in the 21st century and that the teenager sleeping in his guest room is more or less surgically attached to her phone.So, he gets out of the shower and sends her a little note.Morning Cristin,You're at my house. He's not sure how much she remembers from last night. Pretty much she got in the car, fell asleep, slept walked out and into their kitchen, stared at them, glazed and wrecked, through eating a slice of pizza, and then immediately crashed into the bed in their guestroom, and from the sound of it, hadn't moved since.We're out doing morning things. Heather (nanny) and Kelly (little girl, you met her last night) should be down there when you wake up.Eat something.Go back to sleep.Shower's down the hall if you want it. Got clean t-shirts and sweats on the chair. Abby's old T-s and the smallest sweat pants (his) they had. They're still too big for Brand, but they are clean.I'll check in when my ortho apt. is over. Give you a ride back to your car if you're awake. Let you sleep if you're not.You're off until Monday. I checked, 55 hours in three days is okay for a job like we just had, but once that's done (and it is) you go hand it off and rest.McGeeGibbs eyes Tim as he slides into the truck."You're in a good mood."Tim nods. "Got to work a real case." Then he gets Gibbs up to date with what's been going on. He wraps up with, "Before Kelly was born, we were wondering if I could do stay at home dadding." He shakes his head. "Pretty clear the answer is, 'No.' Even the injuries hurt less when I'm working. Well, working with a decent amount of sleep. They hurt something fierce when it's crash time."Gibbs smiles, he knows all about that. "Driving yourself soon?""Supposed to wait until I'm off the narcotics, but…"Gibbs' eyes narrow. "No buts.""Then, no. I've done two days off, and I'm sharper on them and in less pain than I am off them and hurting, and even more sharp without the meds and not hurting."Gibbs nods at that, too.They drive a few more, quiet miles, then something hits Tim, speaking of not being all that sharp, "Jethro…"Inclined head that means, I'm listening."I know how much difference working is making for me. Are you okay? Abbi, Mona, the house, taking care of me, is that doing it for you?"He sees Jethro go still, carefully not answering, and gets the sense he's caught between not lying and not telling the truth. Tim's eyes narrow at that as he tries to decide if Jethro is trying to prevent Tim from worrying about him, or if there's something else going on.Finally Jethro says, "You know how you told your guys not to poke into how you got hurt?""Okay," Tim says slowly."Don't poke it.""I told them not to poke because I didn't want everyone at NCIS knowing the Admiral tried to have me killed. Because that's private, and I didn't want the whispers or stares. You and me, we don't have private."Gibbs laughs at that. "Maybe you don't.""Fine." There is a certain lopsidedness to Jethro knowing everything about them, and them not knowing everything about him, though Tim likes to think its evening up. Though as he looks at Jethro, he does wonder about that.More scans. They ache. They burn. One position feels like his whole arm is ripping in half. Tim supposes this is better and easier than the first scans, back when he was getting the first of the casts, but this isn't fun by any stretch of the imagination. Anything even remotely connected to his right arm is registering extreme displeasure at the idea of moving in any direction, let alone moving and being held in any position other than the one he's been in for the last six weeks, but he grits his teeth, eyes tearing, and does it.Then it's time for more waiting. He and Gibbs just sit there in the Ortho's office, waiting for the images to come back. "Starting to feel like I live in doctor's offices."Gibbs nods. He's starting to get that feeling, too. With Tim not driving and Abby working, he's been to all of these appointments, too."Bet the last one was fun."Tim smiles. "Last one was fun." He's grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head. "Kind of stupid, I mean, I love Kelly so much, all the girls, but…" he bites his lip, still grinning, "little boy."Gibbs smiles, too, he gets it. "Yeah. Ten years. You, me, Sean, Jimmy and Donny, Tony and Third.""Not gonna be a Third. If they have a son, they're thinking David."Gibbs grins at that. "Dave. Dave DiNozzo. Little guy, curly hair and brown eyes like Ziva, sassy, little wise-ass like his dad."Tim's watching that grin. "You know something we don't? Like why Ziva's stateside and Bishop went to Kazakhstan?"Gibbs shakes his head. If anything along those lines is up, he hasn't heard, yet. "Just seeing it.""Okay.""Gearing up, going camping, guys-only weekend in the mountains."Tim's grinning at that, too. "S'mores, fresh fish from a lake, stories around a big bonfire?"Gibbs nods.Then Tim pokes a bit. "Jack Gibbs? Red hair, blue eyes? Say, five-years-old? He gonna be there, too?"Gibbs rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Already had that conversation with Abbi. I'm done with that. I've got my kids. Seven of you buggers is enough."Tim smiles at seven, not even sure why that lights him up so much, but enjoying it. "Okay. But you have had that conversation with her?""Don't date a woman pushing 40 if you don't want to have kids and she does. Not a kindness for anyone.""And Abbi's still here, so she's cool with it?""Yeah, she is.""Good."Dr. Kent heads in a moment later, new cast and sling in hand. "Good morning," they do the small talk routine and finally get to the meat of it.He's putting the scans up on the plasma screen on the wall. "So, this is your shoulder." Tim'll take his word for it. For all he knows, that could be anyone's shoulder. Though, as he looks closer and sees the small scrap yard worth of metal holding the arm together, he decided that this does have to be his shoulder and arm.Kent blows up the shoulder scan. "When your shoulder was ripped out of joint it tore free at the Corocohumeral ligament, Glenohumeral ligaments, and the Capsular ligaments. We put the humerus back into the glenoid fossa. The Corocohumeral and Glenohumeral ligaments ripped free of the bone taking tiny chunks of bone with them. You can see the staples we used to make sure those ligaments hooked back into your humerus properly. And, as you can see," he's moving his finger over the brighter white areas near the dead white staples, "those sutures there show that the bone reattached and knitted back together properly. So, it looks like your shoulder is stable enough that it doesn't have to be immobile any longer."He tosses up the next shot. "This is your wrist and hand." Kent shakes his head. "Wrists heal up slowly in the best, cleanest of breaks, there're just so many tiny bones and ligaments. It's looking a lot better than it was." He splits the screen and Tim can see a shot of his wrist from right after they got it set, and the shot from now, but he's not sure what he's looking at that makes the current one better. Probably all those brighter, white lines where there were just empty black spaces and screws before. "But you're not ready to go cast free, yet."He zooms into Tim's hand and fingers. "Fingers are looking good. All of those little defensive breaks are healed up. Metacarpals, the bones in your hand, are almost there. Just like the ones in your wrist, they're tiny and have a lot of ligaments and muscles involved, and heal up slow in the best of circumstance, and this isn't the best." Kent makes the picture of Tim's hand even bigger. "Here and here, first and second metacarpal" he points to two screws in Tim's hand, the bones that attach into his first and middle finger. "These are right under the tendons that move your first and middle finger. Right now, I'm keeping those fingers immobile to let everything in here get really rock solid."Your new cast is going to cover your hand, wrist to mid forearm, and your first two fingers. Since your last two fingers didn't break, and none of the metacarpals under those tendons snapped either, we're going to let them start moving around again. But take it easy." Kent wiggles his pinkie and ring finger. "The tendons that move these have to go through your wrist. Getting moving again is going to hurt, beyond just you haven't been moving. There's a ton of scar tissue in there that is not going to want to be moving around. Same story with moving your thumb, with a side of your thumb did break and get dislocated. Moving it is not going to be fun, keep at it, but do it slow and gentle, okay?""Okay.""I've sent everything to your PT and CCed Dr. Palmer, as well. I've also emailed them suggestions for someone who specializes in rehabbing hands.""Oh good, more doctor's appointments," Tim says dryly.Kent nods. "I know; you're so excited. Part of my job is managing expectations. Balancing hope with reality. Reality, this is going to be long and hard and take way more effort than you think it should. Things you use to do on automatic will require effort and thought for a lot longer than you think they should. But this is also reality, if you don't give up on it, if you don't decide, 'I've got 80% of what I had back, it's good enough,' you will get full function in your hand back.""I'm a programmer and a writer, I need both of my hands working at 100%. So, how long…""One hundred per cent? Spring? You'll be typing long before then, but, you're really good and fast at it, right?""Yeah.""Spring."Tim sighs. He doesn't want to hear "Spring." He wants to hear "last week."Kent looks at him. "I know."Tim's got doubt it all over his face. Kent rolls up his sleeve and shows Tim the scars all over his forearm and wrist. "Skiing accident. I've got enough metal in my wrist to make yours look clean and tidy. Two years of rehab, but I am a fully functioning orthopedic surgeon again. Trust me, put the work in, and you will get it back. After all, you hit the wrong key, you go back and delete. It's a little different if I don't get the scalpel in the right place."Tim nods at him. "Okay. Got it.""Good. I'd like to set your next appointment for two weeks out. If all keeps going well, you'll be down to just a wrist/hand brace and sling then.""Yippie?"Kent nods. He gets it. "Let's get the new cast on."It's still warm from the 3d printer and smells strongly of melted plastic. He almost feels a little naked with just plastic from his mid forearm to fingers."So, let's see what kind of range of motion you've got. We're going to start at the top of your shoulder and move each joint as far as you can without pain."Tim sighs at that. At least since he's been doing some movement with Jimmy, his shoulder isn't completely immobile. He lifts it up and down, back and forth at the collarbone, and Kent hums a bit at that."Your shoulder has been adducted and internally rotated." Which Tim knows means his arm's been across his stomach for six week. "First off, try to rotate your arm."Tim's able to move it almost a centimeter away from his stomach before it hurts. He's feeling pathetic about that, but Kent looks pleased. "Believe it or not, that's good. Next, abduction." Tim remembers from college that means move your elbow away from your side and toward Gibbs. And again, he's got about a centimeter before his shoulder screams at him. Kent's nodding along at that, too. "Extension." Moving his arm forward and up, and in that direction his shoulder is telling him in no uncertain terms that it's not doing jack shit, thank you very much. "Okay, we've got to see how much your elbow is ready to move before we get retraction. So, onto your elbow." Pretty much the only part of Tim's arm that didn't get hurt was his elbow. He's got three full inches of extension before his tricep says no more, and a similar distance of retraction before his bicep goes on strike. "That's looking good. With as badly broken as your humerus was, and the amount of surgery they had to do to put it back together, I was afraid you'd have more damage to your muscles. You'll have full range of motion in your elbow first. Okay, palm up." The cast kept his palm facing his stomach for the last six weeks. He gives it a try and just like with extending his shoulder his body is sending very clear, 'Oh FUCK NO!' signal to him on that. Kent keeps nodding. "Palm down." Exact same response. "Thumb?" It twitches slightly without pain, and he can almost wiggle the top joint. "That's good. Pinky?" He can bend the middle joint almost a quarter inch without pain, but the bottom one aches when he tries to move it, and he doesn't have the control to do anything with the top one. His ring finger is in the same boat."Okay, given how badly everything was broken, this is a really good place to be starting.""I'll take your word for it.""That's why you're paying me," Kent says with a smile. "Cast feels good?"Tim nods."Good. We've got a new sling for you." Kent starts to open it up. "The cast kept your arm in position before. This is a little firmer, little more snug, than the sling you were using with that cast. He fits it around Tim's arm and shoulder, and adjusts the strap that goes around his waist. I've got it set so you've got about two inches of play for internal/external rotation of your shoulder, and a similar amount for extension and retraction. If you're getting tired and achy and want more support, just pull the straps tighter." Tim's noticing that this has four different Velcro straps that attach to his waist and ribs. "Once it's tight, it'll hold your arm the way the cast did. Loose means more movement. Try to keep it loose as much as you can, okay?"Tim nods."Ultimately, you'll only have it tight for sleeping, but you're going to have to play that by ear. If it's more pain meds or tighten it up, tighten it up."Tim nods at that, too."Okay. Speaking of pain meds, everything doing the job the way it should?"Tim nods at that, too."Good. I'm going to write you another script for more Tylenol 3, and then you're set to go.""Thanks.""No problems. See you in two weeks.""Back to work?" Gibbs asks when they get into his truck."Maybe. Gotta check at home." He pulls his phone out and texts. Awake?A few seconds later, as Gibb is pulling out of the parking lot he gets back. Yes.Be home in about twenty minutes. Then we'll take you back to your car, okay?Sure."Gotta stop home.""Picking something up for Abby?""Not quite." He explains who is home and why they need to get her.He sees Gibbs' hand leave the steering wheel, start to head in the general direction of his skull, then stop and go back to the steering wheel. Gibbs then closes his eyes for a second and bites his lip before saying, "You took your exhausted, teenage, female, employee home with you?" Are you fucking insane? is clear on his face."I tucked a sleeping agent in, at work, last night. Which is right out of your playbook, right? Abby took the teenage girl home. Which is right out of hers.""Tim…"He knows what's got Gibbs worried. It's also why he wasn't immediately all, 'let's go adopt a teenage hacker' when Abby suggested it. He's the Boss. She is his VERY young employee. This could be a disaster of epic proportions if it went badly. "I'm being careful. I was telling her she had to go home, and that we'd drive her, because she was too tired to drive home, and then Abby's asking if home alone is spooky and lonely and next thing I know she's sleeping in my guest room. I haven't been alone with her, and I'm not going to be.""Okay.""Heather's home right now, you're coming in with me, we're giving her a lift back to her car, and that's it.""Good. She's too young to be… You can't be giving her favors. You can't have her getting a crush on you, and you can't be in a position where she might get the wrong idea.""Speaking from experience?""Yes."Tim digests that for a moment, wondering exactly when Gibbs learned that, then… "Wait, Abby told me you did the same for her when she was brand new at NCIS."Tim catches a sheepish look on Gibbs face. In fact, if this was anyone but Gibbs, Tim would characterize that look as trying not to blush. Then he knows what Gibbs was doing that night. "Wait, with Abby? We're you trying… You were married!"Gibbs shrugs. "Stephanie wasn't supposed to be home.""Jethro! She thinks you were being all sweet and protective.""By the time she fell asleep in my car, I was.""But you weren't when you offered her the ride?"Gibbs shrugs again. "Long case, bad case, Stephanie was supposed to be out of town, Stan and Abby'd already been out clubbing once, apparently she was fine with friendly and casual, and I just wanted to drink and fuck, thought she'd be up for it, too. Didn't realize how out of it she was until she fell asleep in the car. Then I realized how out of it I had to be if I'd misread the signals that bad. So home, tucked onto the sofa, Stephanie smiled at me for the first time in a month, and I went upstairs to my own bed to crash, too."Tim grits his teeth and sighs."Don't you look at me like that. You did the exact same thing the first chance you got, and unlike me, you didn't strike out.""Probably because she knew we were going on a date," Tim says dryly."Would have helped."Tim's not sure what to do with that. "You ever try again?"Gibbs shakes his head. "Got the little girl too firmly in my head after that to ever do more than flirt."Tim nods, feeling a little relieved at that.Then Gibbs turns to him and smiles. "Bet that feels a bit like walking in and seeing you spooning Diane."Tim rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I thought we were never going to talk about that again."Gibbs nods, changing the subject a little, "So, how's Brand settling in?""So far so good. At some point I'll sit down with Howard and find out exactly how she was doing, but she was on 55 of 72, just kept working it until there was nothing left to work."Gibbs looks impressed by that.They're home five minutes later and Tim is about to get out of the truck when Gibbs stops him. "It'll take you ten minutes. I'll get her.""Can you grab me a towel, too?""Why?""Hand towel. Fold it up, wedge it between my wrist and my stomach, it'll force everything to stretch a little, and improve my arm stability."Gibbs nods. "Biomedical engineering, huh?""Magna cum laude."Gibbs heads in and finds the infamous Brand. He's happy that he did not roll his eyes. She's sitting at the kitchen table in way too big clothing, with her hair long and wet, looking like she's, at most, twelve-years-old.She's also having a pretty good conversation with Heather (who, as of five minutes ago, he thought looked twelve, but she's a paragon of maturity next to Brand) both of them chattering away while Kelly rides Heather's hip.She's the one who sees him first. "Pop!""Hey, Jethro," Heather adds, bringing Kelly over for a hug and kiss."Heather," she gets an affectionate kiss on the cheek as he takes Kelly from her, and Kelly gets a big hug and a big kiss. "Hey, Kelly girl.""Pop!" She's happily slobbering kisses all over him back. "Pway? Mona?""Not today, baby. Just picking up Brand," she leaps up as soon as he says her name. He extends a hand. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You can call me Jethro or Gibbs.""Hi. I'm Cristin." She looks very shy, and even more achingly young as she blushes with him staring directly at her."Tim's in the truck. Head on out. I've got to grab a towel."Both the girls are looking at him like he's insane. Gibbs starts to explain and then stops. "It'll make sense when you see it." He kisses Kelly again. "Go have fun with Heather."Kelly nods at her Pop as he hands her back and heads into the bathroom in search of a hand towel.When Gibbs gets into the truck, Brand is already in the backseat, looking pretty nervous. Tim's making small talk, asking if she's feeling okay."You introduce yourself?" he asks Gibbs while taking the towel and folding it up.Gibbs nods.Tim inclines his head toward Gibbs and says, "My dad."Tim's done that before, introduced Jethro as his dad, but like with the various Slaters, there's usually been some sort of qualifier. "My dad, or close enough," or "Dad'll cover it," something like that. It's the first time he's said it and just left it there. Gibbs smiles at that.Brand's nodding, watching him stuff the towel between his hand and stomach, and without missing a beat Tim starts to explain what he's doing, as clearly as he can with his teeth clenched."Hurts?" Gibbs asks."Yeah. Got it a quarter inch past comfortable. Figure that's the fastest way to start getting more range of motion.""Run it by Jimmy when you get in, okay.""I will.""We picking up pain meds on the way?""Got some in my desk. Abby and I can get the rest on the way home."Gibbs waves that off. "Heading to the house this afternoon anyway, going by the Target, might as well pick it up for you. Got some of my own errands to run, and might as well save you a few more minutes.""Thanks.""No problem."Gibbs drops them at the door at NCIS. "See you tonight."Tim waves. Brand scoots out. "Thank you, Mr. Gibbs."Gibbs nods at that, smiling.Tim starts slowly hobbling toward the office, as Brand says, "It never actually ends, does it?""Hm?""They take care of you forever, right? Been talking to my parents about that, especially the last few months," she rolls her eyes, "tired of being babied, you know? I'm not a little kid. Mom pretty much wanted to move here with me."He nods. "Yeah. I know. I moved 3,000 miles away when I was seventeen. Jethro joined the Marines the second he turned eighteen. You need time on your own, so do they, but if you have a good relationship, they never stop caring, and neither do you."She nods at that, catching Tim calling him "Jethro" and he starts to turn again, but stops as she says, "Why do you have different last names?""I'm adopted.""Oh. Okay. So… not until Monday?"Tim shakes his head. "No. Not until Monday. Go home, rest, play, explore DC. Summer sesson's in full swing at American and there are piles of students your age, also all away from home for the first time, head over and socialize. Or call your buddies back home, but you do not come in again until Monday, got it?"She nods and heads off to her car.
Next
Chapter 413: Right Hand
Tim's up at his usual time, going through his usual routine (today he gets stretch out and slow shower time, yesterday he was on feed Kelly/make breakfast) and thinking about what to do with the teenager who is likely still sleeping in his guest room.He's thinking it'd probably qualify as creepy to head in and leave a note for her.Which is when he remembers that he lives in the 21st century and that the teenager sleeping in his guest room is more or less surgically attached to her phone.So, he gets out of the shower and sends her a little note.Morning Cristin,You're at my house. He's not sure how much she remembers from last night. Pretty much she got in the car, fell asleep, slept walked out and into their kitchen, stared at them, glazed and wrecked, through eating a slice of pizza, and then immediately crashed into the bed in their guestroom, and from the sound of it, hadn't moved since.We're out doing morning things. Heather (nanny) and Kelly (little girl, you met her last night) should be down there when you wake up.Eat something.Go back to sleep.Shower's down the hall if you want it. Got clean t-shirts and sweats on the chair. Abby's old T-s and the smallest sweat pants (his) they had. They're still too big for Brand, but they are clean.I'll check in when my ortho apt. is over. Give you a ride back to your car if you're awake. Let you sleep if you're not.You're off until Monday. I checked, 55 hours in three days is okay for a job like we just had, but once that's done (and it is) you go hand it off and rest.McGeeGibbs eyes Tim as he slides into the truck."You're in a good mood."Tim nods. "Got to work a real case." Then he gets Gibbs up to date with what's been going on. He wraps up with, "Before Kelly was born, we were wondering if I could do stay at home dadding." He shakes his head. "Pretty clear the answer is, 'No.' Even the injuries hurt less when I'm working. Well, working with a decent amount of sleep. They hurt something fierce when it's crash time."Gibbs smiles, he knows all about that. "Driving yourself soon?""Supposed to wait until I'm off the narcotics, but…"Gibbs' eyes narrow. "No buts.""Then, no. I've done two days off, and I'm sharper on them and in less pain than I am off them and hurting, and even more sharp without the meds and not hurting."Gibbs nods at that, too.They drive a few more, quiet miles, then something hits Tim, speaking of not being all that sharp, "Jethro…"Inclined head that means, I'm listening."I know how much difference working is making for me. Are you okay? Abbi, Mona, the house, taking care of me, is that doing it for you?"He sees Jethro go still, carefully not answering, and gets the sense he's caught between not lying and not telling the truth. Tim's eyes narrow at that as he tries to decide if Jethro is trying to prevent Tim from worrying about him, or if there's something else going on.Finally Jethro says, "You know how you told your guys not to poke into how you got hurt?""Okay," Tim says slowly."Don't poke it.""I told them not to poke because I didn't want everyone at NCIS knowing the Admiral tried to have me killed. Because that's private, and I didn't want the whispers or stares. You and me, we don't have private."Gibbs laughs at that. "Maybe you don't.""Fine." There is a certain lopsidedness to Jethro knowing everything about them, and them not knowing everything about him, though Tim likes to think its evening up. Though as he looks at Jethro, he does wonder about that.More scans. They ache. They burn. One position feels like his whole arm is ripping in half. Tim supposes this is better and easier than the first scans, back when he was getting the first of the casts, but this isn't fun by any stretch of the imagination. Anything even remotely connected to his right arm is registering extreme displeasure at the idea of moving in any direction, let alone moving and being held in any position other than the one he's been in for the last six weeks, but he grits his teeth, eyes tearing, and does it.Then it's time for more waiting. He and Gibbs just sit there in the Ortho's office, waiting for the images to come back. "Starting to feel like I live in doctor's offices."Gibbs nods. He's starting to get that feeling, too. With Tim not driving and Abby working, he's been to all of these appointments, too."Bet the last one was fun."Tim smiles. "Last one was fun." He's grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head. "Kind of stupid, I mean, I love Kelly so much, all the girls, but…" he bites his lip, still grinning, "little boy."Gibbs smiles, too, he gets it. "Yeah. Ten years. You, me, Sean, Jimmy and Donny, Tony and Third.""Not gonna be a Third. If they have a son, they're thinking David."Gibbs grins at that. "Dave. Dave DiNozzo. Little guy, curly hair and brown eyes like Ziva, sassy, little wise-ass like his dad."Tim's watching that grin. "You know something we don't? Like why Ziva's stateside and Bishop went to Kazakhstan?"Gibbs shakes his head. If anything along those lines is up, he hasn't heard, yet. "Just seeing it.""Okay.""Gearing up, going camping, guys-only weekend in the mountains."Tim's grinning at that, too. "S'mores, fresh fish from a lake, stories around a big bonfire?"Gibbs nods.Then Tim pokes a bit. "Jack Gibbs? Red hair, blue eyes? Say, five-years-old? He gonna be there, too?"Gibbs rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Already had that conversation with Abbi. I'm done with that. I've got my kids. Seven of you buggers is enough."Tim smiles at seven, not even sure why that lights him up so much, but enjoying it. "Okay. But you have had that conversation with her?""Don't date a woman pushing 40 if you don't want to have kids and she does. Not a kindness for anyone.""And Abbi's still here, so she's cool with it?""Yeah, she is.""Good."Dr. Kent heads in a moment later, new cast and sling in hand. "Good morning," they do the small talk routine and finally get to the meat of it.He's putting the scans up on the plasma screen on the wall. "So, this is your shoulder." Tim'll take his word for it. For all he knows, that could be anyone's shoulder. Though, as he looks closer and sees the small scrap yard worth of metal holding the arm together, he decided that this does have to be his shoulder and arm.Kent blows up the shoulder scan. "When your shoulder was ripped out of joint it tore free at the Corocohumeral ligament, Glenohumeral ligaments, and the Capsular ligaments. We put the humerus back into the glenoid fossa. The Corocohumeral and Glenohumeral ligaments ripped free of the bone taking tiny chunks of bone with them. You can see the staples we used to make sure those ligaments hooked back into your humerus properly. And, as you can see," he's moving his finger over the brighter white areas near the dead white staples, "those sutures there show that the bone reattached and knitted back together properly. So, it looks like your shoulder is stable enough that it doesn't have to be immobile any longer."He tosses up the next shot. "This is your wrist and hand." Kent shakes his head. "Wrists heal up slowly in the best, cleanest of breaks, there're just so many tiny bones and ligaments. It's looking a lot better than it was." He splits the screen and Tim can see a shot of his wrist from right after they got it set, and the shot from now, but he's not sure what he's looking at that makes the current one better. Probably all those brighter, white lines where there were just empty black spaces and screws before. "But you're not ready to go cast free, yet."He zooms into Tim's hand and fingers. "Fingers are looking good. All of those little defensive breaks are healed up. Metacarpals, the bones in your hand, are almost there. Just like the ones in your wrist, they're tiny and have a lot of ligaments and muscles involved, and heal up slow in the best of circumstance, and this isn't the best." Kent makes the picture of Tim's hand even bigger. "Here and here, first and second metacarpal" he points to two screws in Tim's hand, the bones that attach into his first and middle finger. "These are right under the tendons that move your first and middle finger. Right now, I'm keeping those fingers immobile to let everything in here get really rock solid."Your new cast is going to cover your hand, wrist to mid forearm, and your first two fingers. Since your last two fingers didn't break, and none of the metacarpals under those tendons snapped either, we're going to let them start moving around again. But take it easy." Kent wiggles his pinkie and ring finger. "The tendons that move these have to go through your wrist. Getting moving again is going to hurt, beyond just you haven't been moving. There's a ton of scar tissue in there that is not going to want to be moving around. Same story with moving your thumb, with a side of your thumb did break and get dislocated. Moving it is not going to be fun, keep at it, but do it slow and gentle, okay?""Okay.""I've sent everything to your PT and CCed Dr. Palmer, as well. I've also emailed them suggestions for someone who specializes in rehabbing hands.""Oh good, more doctor's appointments," Tim says dryly.Kent nods. "I know; you're so excited. Part of my job is managing expectations. Balancing hope with reality. Reality, this is going to be long and hard and take way more effort than you think it should. Things you use to do on automatic will require effort and thought for a lot longer than you think they should. But this is also reality, if you don't give up on it, if you don't decide, 'I've got 80% of what I had back, it's good enough,' you will get full function in your hand back.""I'm a programmer and a writer, I need both of my hands working at 100%. So, how long…""One hundred per cent? Spring? You'll be typing long before then, but, you're really good and fast at it, right?""Yeah.""Spring."Tim sighs. He doesn't want to hear "Spring." He wants to hear "last week."Kent looks at him. "I know."Tim's got doubt it all over his face. Kent rolls up his sleeve and shows Tim the scars all over his forearm and wrist. "Skiing accident. I've got enough metal in my wrist to make yours look clean and tidy. Two years of rehab, but I am a fully functioning orthopedic surgeon again. Trust me, put the work in, and you will get it back. After all, you hit the wrong key, you go back and delete. It's a little different if I don't get the scalpel in the right place."Tim nods at him. "Okay. Got it.""Good. I'd like to set your next appointment for two weeks out. If all keeps going well, you'll be down to just a wrist/hand brace and sling then.""Yippie?"Kent nods. He gets it. "Let's get the new cast on."It's still warm from the 3d printer and smells strongly of melted plastic. He almost feels a little naked with just plastic from his mid forearm to fingers."So, let's see what kind of range of motion you've got. We're going to start at the top of your shoulder and move each joint as far as you can without pain."Tim sighs at that. At least since he's been doing some movement with Jimmy, his shoulder isn't completely immobile. He lifts it up and down, back and forth at the collarbone, and Kent hums a bit at that."Your shoulder has been adducted and internally rotated." Which Tim knows means his arm's been across his stomach for six week. "First off, try to rotate your arm."Tim's able to move it almost a centimeter away from his stomach before it hurts. He's feeling pathetic about that, but Kent looks pleased. "Believe it or not, that's good. Next, abduction." Tim remembers from college that means move your elbow away from your side and toward Gibbs. And again, he's got about a centimeter before his shoulder screams at him. Kent's nodding along at that, too. "Extension." Moving his arm forward and up, and in that direction his shoulder is telling him in no uncertain terms that it's not doing jack shit, thank you very much. "Okay, we've got to see how much your elbow is ready to move before we get retraction. So, onto your elbow." Pretty much the only part of Tim's arm that didn't get hurt was his elbow. He's got three full inches of extension before his tricep says no more, and a similar distance of retraction before his bicep goes on strike. "That's looking good. With as badly broken as your humerus was, and the amount of surgery they had to do to put it back together, I was afraid you'd have more damage to your muscles. You'll have full range of motion in your elbow first. Okay, palm up." The cast kept his palm facing his stomach for the last six weeks. He gives it a try and just like with extending his shoulder his body is sending very clear, 'Oh FUCK NO!' signal to him on that. Kent keeps nodding. "Palm down." Exact same response. "Thumb?" It twitches slightly without pain, and he can almost wiggle the top joint. "That's good. Pinky?" He can bend the middle joint almost a quarter inch without pain, but the bottom one aches when he tries to move it, and he doesn't have the control to do anything with the top one. His ring finger is in the same boat."Okay, given how badly everything was broken, this is a really good place to be starting.""I'll take your word for it.""That's why you're paying me," Kent says with a smile. "Cast feels good?"Tim nods."Good. We've got a new sling for you." Kent starts to open it up. "The cast kept your arm in position before. This is a little firmer, little more snug, than the sling you were using with that cast. He fits it around Tim's arm and shoulder, and adjusts the strap that goes around his waist. I've got it set so you've got about two inches of play for internal/external rotation of your shoulder, and a similar amount for extension and retraction. If you're getting tired and achy and want more support, just pull the straps tighter." Tim's noticing that this has four different Velcro straps that attach to his waist and ribs. "Once it's tight, it'll hold your arm the way the cast did. Loose means more movement. Try to keep it loose as much as you can, okay?"Tim nods."Ultimately, you'll only have it tight for sleeping, but you're going to have to play that by ear. If it's more pain meds or tighten it up, tighten it up."Tim nods at that, too."Okay. Speaking of pain meds, everything doing the job the way it should?"Tim nods at that, too."Good. I'm going to write you another script for more Tylenol 3, and then you're set to go.""Thanks.""No problems. See you in two weeks.""Back to work?" Gibbs asks when they get into his truck."Maybe. Gotta check at home." He pulls his phone out and texts. Awake?A few seconds later, as Gibb is pulling out of the parking lot he gets back. Yes.Be home in about twenty minutes. Then we'll take you back to your car, okay?Sure."Gotta stop home.""Picking something up for Abby?""Not quite." He explains who is home and why they need to get her.He sees Gibbs' hand leave the steering wheel, start to head in the general direction of his skull, then stop and go back to the steering wheel. Gibbs then closes his eyes for a second and bites his lip before saying, "You took your exhausted, teenage, female, employee home with you?" Are you fucking insane? is clear on his face."I tucked a sleeping agent in, at work, last night. Which is right out of your playbook, right? Abby took the teenage girl home. Which is right out of hers.""Tim…"He knows what's got Gibbs worried. It's also why he wasn't immediately all, 'let's go adopt a teenage hacker' when Abby suggested it. He's the Boss. She is his VERY young employee. This could be a disaster of epic proportions if it went badly. "I'm being careful. I was telling her she had to go home, and that we'd drive her, because she was too tired to drive home, and then Abby's asking if home alone is spooky and lonely and next thing I know she's sleeping in my guest room. I haven't been alone with her, and I'm not going to be.""Okay.""Heather's home right now, you're coming in with me, we're giving her a lift back to her car, and that's it.""Good. She's too young to be… You can't be giving her favors. You can't have her getting a crush on you, and you can't be in a position where she might get the wrong idea.""Speaking from experience?""Yes."Tim digests that for a moment, wondering exactly when Gibbs learned that, then… "Wait, Abby told me you did the same for her when she was brand new at NCIS."Tim catches a sheepish look on Gibbs face. In fact, if this was anyone but Gibbs, Tim would characterize that look as trying not to blush. Then he knows what Gibbs was doing that night. "Wait, with Abby? We're you trying… You were married!"Gibbs shrugs. "Stephanie wasn't supposed to be home.""Jethro! She thinks you were being all sweet and protective.""By the time she fell asleep in my car, I was.""But you weren't when you offered her the ride?"Gibbs shrugs again. "Long case, bad case, Stephanie was supposed to be out of town, Stan and Abby'd already been out clubbing once, apparently she was fine with friendly and casual, and I just wanted to drink and fuck, thought she'd be up for it, too. Didn't realize how out of it she was until she fell asleep in the car. Then I realized how out of it I had to be if I'd misread the signals that bad. So home, tucked onto the sofa, Stephanie smiled at me for the first time in a month, and I went upstairs to my own bed to crash, too."Tim grits his teeth and sighs."Don't you look at me like that. You did the exact same thing the first chance you got, and unlike me, you didn't strike out.""Probably because she knew we were going on a date," Tim says dryly."Would have helped."Tim's not sure what to do with that. "You ever try again?"Gibbs shakes his head. "Got the little girl too firmly in my head after that to ever do more than flirt."Tim nods, feeling a little relieved at that.Then Gibbs turns to him and smiles. "Bet that feels a bit like walking in and seeing you spooning Diane."Tim rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I thought we were never going to talk about that again."Gibbs nods, changing the subject a little, "So, how's Brand settling in?""So far so good. At some point I'll sit down with Howard and find out exactly how she was doing, but she was on 55 of 72, just kept working it until there was nothing left to work."Gibbs looks impressed by that.They're home five minutes later and Tim is about to get out of the truck when Gibbs stops him. "It'll take you ten minutes. I'll get her.""Can you grab me a towel, too?""Why?""Hand towel. Fold it up, wedge it between my wrist and my stomach, it'll force everything to stretch a little, and improve my arm stability."Gibbs nods. "Biomedical engineering, huh?""Magna cum laude."Gibbs heads in and finds the infamous Brand. He's happy that he did not roll his eyes. She's sitting at the kitchen table in way too big clothing, with her hair long and wet, looking like she's, at most, twelve-years-old.She's also having a pretty good conversation with Heather (who, as of five minutes ago, he thought looked twelve, but she's a paragon of maturity next to Brand) both of them chattering away while Kelly rides Heather's hip.She's the one who sees him first. "Pop!""Hey, Jethro," Heather adds, bringing Kelly over for a hug and kiss."Heather," she gets an affectionate kiss on the cheek as he takes Kelly from her, and Kelly gets a big hug and a big kiss. "Hey, Kelly girl.""Pop!" She's happily slobbering kisses all over him back. "Pway? Mona?""Not today, baby. Just picking up Brand," she leaps up as soon as he says her name. He extends a hand. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You can call me Jethro or Gibbs.""Hi. I'm Cristin." She looks very shy, and even more achingly young as she blushes with him staring directly at her."Tim's in the truck. Head on out. I've got to grab a towel."Both the girls are looking at him like he's insane. Gibbs starts to explain and then stops. "It'll make sense when you see it." He kisses Kelly again. "Go have fun with Heather."Kelly nods at her Pop as he hands her back and heads into the bathroom in search of a hand towel.When Gibbs gets into the truck, Brand is already in the backseat, looking pretty nervous. Tim's making small talk, asking if she's feeling okay."You introduce yourself?" he asks Gibbs while taking the towel and folding it up.Gibbs nods.Tim inclines his head toward Gibbs and says, "My dad."Tim's done that before, introduced Jethro as his dad, but like with the various Slaters, there's usually been some sort of qualifier. "My dad, or close enough," or "Dad'll cover it," something like that. It's the first time he's said it and just left it there. Gibbs smiles at that.Brand's nodding, watching him stuff the towel between his hand and stomach, and without missing a beat Tim starts to explain what he's doing, as clearly as he can with his teeth clenched."Hurts?" Gibbs asks."Yeah. Got it a quarter inch past comfortable. Figure that's the fastest way to start getting more range of motion.""Run it by Jimmy when you get in, okay.""I will.""We picking up pain meds on the way?""Got some in my desk. Abby and I can get the rest on the way home."Gibbs waves that off. "Heading to the house this afternoon anyway, going by the Target, might as well pick it up for you. Got some of my own errands to run, and might as well save you a few more minutes.""Thanks.""No problem."Gibbs drops them at the door at NCIS. "See you tonight."Tim waves. Brand scoots out. "Thank you, Mr. Gibbs."Gibbs nods at that, smiling.Tim starts slowly hobbling toward the office, as Brand says, "It never actually ends, does it?""Hm?""They take care of you forever, right? Been talking to my parents about that, especially the last few months," she rolls her eyes, "tired of being babied, you know? I'm not a little kid. Mom pretty much wanted to move here with me."He nods. "Yeah. I know. I moved 3,000 miles away when I was seventeen. Jethro joined the Marines the second he turned eighteen. You need time on your own, so do they, but if you have a good relationship, they never stop caring, and neither do you."She nods at that, catching Tim calling him "Jethro" and he starts to turn again, but stops as she says, "Why do you have different last names?""I'm adopted.""Oh. Okay. So… not until Monday?"Tim shakes his head. "No. Not until Monday. Go home, rest, play, explore DC. Summer sesson's in full swing at American and there are piles of students your age, also all away from home for the first time, head over and socialize. Or call your buddies back home, but you do not come in again until Monday, got it?"She nods and heads off to her car.
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Shards To A Whole: Chapter 412: Back In The Saddle
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 412: Back In The Saddle
Tim worked straight through Tuesday, 'round the clock, in at 11:00 to the next 11:00 to the one after it on Wednesday morning. And then on Wednesday he basically slept 'round the clock, too.Abby took him home, grabbing a quick bite on the way there, and then he staggered off to bed, Tylenol 3 and Aleve coursing through his system (and if he still had any Percocet he would have found that and taken it instead) and crashed into a deep sleep where he woke up briefly to have dinner with his wife and daughter, and then back to sleep again for the rest of the night.Thursday morning, usual wake up time, he's moving again, groggy and sore and planning on another 8:00 PM bedtime (and probably a nap in the afternoon) but he's moving because there's 200 emails in his inbox and most of them are not requisitions for more staples or time off.He's feeding Kelly, while asking Abby, "Tony said something about there being 'data chips' in…" he doesn't remember his name, "the victim's arm. Did you guys get into them?"Abby shrugs and takes a bite of her graham cracker. She's been craving them since yesterday. No idea what about graham crackers Sean wants, but he's getting a lot of them. "We got into them all right, but it's gobbled-y-gook. So, once we got them up and running, off to your guys they went. Last I heard, there's a guy out of Rota who's an encryption specialist—""Atherson." Tim nods. They haven't worked together yet, but he's thinking that if the mirror site he wants to add to his NCIS defenses works the way he wants it to, they'll need to. He's thinking that a hard but not impossible encryption placed on files that are actually collections of random numbers should drive anyone who tries to break into their stuff full-on raving insane."Anyway, we got them cleaned off and running a bit before I took you home. From there the data went to him, and the actual chips went to evidence."Tim nods again as he wipes cereal off of Kelly's chin.They hear the sound of the sliding glass door open as Heather comes in. "Morning! Oh, there's my girl!" She sweeps over to Kelly, giving her a kiss, and then turns to the adults. "Good to see you back here, Tim, Abby said you were on a case. They're not treating you too rough, are they?"He smirks at Abby before replying to Heather. "This time the dark circles under my eyes are just from being tired. Apparently my working-round-the-clock skills are rusty."Heather smiles at that. "So, is now a good time?"Abby says, "Yeah, I think so," and then fills Tim in, "Yesterday, I told her we wanted to talk to her when all three of us were able to get together.""Right!" Tim can see by the look on Heather's face that she knows where this is going and is happy about it. "How would you feel about being a nanny to two little McGees?"Heather grins. "Two little McGees sound awesome.""Wonderful!" Abby hugs her, very happy, and then puts her hand on her tummy. "Say hello to Sean James. If all goes according to plan, he'll be on the outside January 28th!""Hello, Sean! Oh, we are going to have so much fun."Kelly's looking very confused by all this, which is when it hits the grown-ups that they have not made any sort of specific comments to her about all of this. Abby says to her, "You've got a little brother, here, inside Mommy's tummy."Kelly's eyes narrow. That is not information that means anything to her. She does reach out and poke Abby in the tummy, but nothing happens, so she's not satisfied by that response.Tim tries from this direction. "You're a big sister. And in the winter, when it gets very cold outside, you'll get a little brother to play with.""Molly?" Kelly asks."Just like Molly! Anna is Molly's little sister. You've got a little brother growing inside your mommy. He's too little to come out, yet. But when it gets cold he'll be all grown and ready to come out."Okay, she's looking a little more steady with that. She knows who Molly and Anna are and how they relate. "Bwofer?"Good point, no one in their family has a little brother. (Okay, not true, Abby has Luca and Kyle, but Kelly doesn't know who they are, and Jimmy is the little brother, but no one's ever even met the illusive Clark.) And as of yet they have not gotten into what Aunt or Uncle means, just that that's the title certain people in the family have.Heather's smiling at her. "You and your cousins and your mommy and I are all girls. The baby, Sean?" Tim nods, she's got the name. "Is a boy, just like Daddy."And at that Kelly bursts into sobbing tears because she's got no idea what a boy is, but she knows that Daddy is bigger than Mommy and she doesn't see how anything that size can fit inside her without hurting her mommy. Unfortunately the adults have no idea what's set her off, and she's woefully ill equipped to explain what the problem is.Finally, Heather says the magic word 'baby' which is when it finally clicks for Kelly that whatever a brother is, it'll be small, and she begins to calm down.So, on Thursday, both Tim and Abby are twenty minutes late into work, and somewhat frazzled when they get there, but get there they do.First matter of business, before heading into the basement, before battling his emails, is to head up to the Bullpen and check in on Tony. Namely, just because he had gotten his end of the case (and a bunch of other cases) dealt with, did not mean that Tony actually had a shooter… two shooters, Tim thinks Tony mentioned something about there being two of them, in custody.When he gets up there, he doesn't even bother to get out of the elevator. He can see no one in the bullpen, which, hopefully means they've caught the guy and are all having a late morning, or are out getting him, as opposed to they're all out hunting down new leads.Tim pulls his phone out of his pocket and then puts it back. He can't text and hold the phone at the same time.Back down to his office, he flicks on his computers, and as they boot up he sends to Tony: Got your guy yet? Any specific information you want from what we get off the drives/computers?Nothing comes back, so he hopes that means Tony's sleeping.Next step: What the hell time is it in Spain? He checks. Six hours ahead. So he pulls up Atherson on his computer for face to face time. He'd expected Kim Atherson to be female, but a middle-aged Black man is facing him on the other side of the screen."Hi. I was wondering if you could update me on what you getting off the data DC sent over?"Atherson snaps to attention at that. Tim might not have known him on sight, but he knows Tim. "Nothing, yet, Boss." Tim's itching to check Atherson's background, that's a very Marine sounding 'Boss.'"Corrupt data or nasty encryption?""1024 bit key."Tim knows that's code for this is impossible. "So, right out of the Cryptonomicon?"He's not surprised that Atherson gets that reference. He's also not surprised to see that makes Atherson relax a bit. "Exactly. If you can find a key for it, if you can find me part of the key for it…"Tim nods; he gets it. They don't make computers big and fast enough to break that encryption, not without help."That all, Boss?""Almost. I'm thinking of spiffing up out cybersecurity. We've got that mirror site in place right now, and what I want to do is make a fully functional version, with all of our files. I want file names, dates, and who is on them encrypted, tough but not unbreakable, and then I want all of the details in those files to be encrypted piles of random numbers and letters."Atherson smiles. Anyone who breaks the first layer will assume they've got a dual encryption going. He laughs at McGee's idea. "You are sick.""Thank you!" Tim nods, smiling. "Once we've got the full mirror up and in place, are you set to handle that?""It'll take me less than a day to write the scripts…" He pauses and thinks. "You just want me to do the encryption, right? Someone else is handling the script that produces a mirror file for every real one?" Tim nods. His crew in DC will handle that. "Just promise me, if anyone does get into it, that you'll make sure I get logs of the back tracking so I can see them try to break it." Atherson is grinning at that idea."Oh yeah. That'll be fun to watch. Trust me, we get someone take a whack at it, it'll be movie night for NCIS Cybercrime world over."Atherson laughs at that. 'I'll bring the popcorn.""Thank you, Atherson.""No problem, Boss."Tim logs off from that and then calls up his Mexico City team. No one answers and he realizes he should have checked the time there. It's… no they're only an hour behind, so... He double checks. He's only got two guys out of Mexico City, and they're on shift together, from about 10:00 to 14:00 and from 18:00 to 22:00. Interesting schedule, must have built in siesta time. But so far it's working.He sends an email to them asking for facetime once they get in.Then it's back to his email backlog.999 emails to read999 emailsOpen one up, deal with the muck999 email to readHe swears the damn things are coming in just as fast as he's dealing with them. It's occurring to him that part of being able to get through with his back log was doing nothing but emails, but part of it was also that no one was sending him anything of any substance. But as of Tuesday, he's really back, which means that, in addition to requisitions for staples, he's also getting case work, thorny code issues, and requests for 'opinions' (aka, please tell me what to do) on sticky cases.It feels good. Sisyphean, but this is the hill he wants to be rolling a boulder up. (At least now, in a week or two the shine may wear off.)He's absently rubbing his ankle, reading over a request from one of his Techs in the Seattle Office for how to translate what he just did so the Agent in charge understands and is able to use the information he's found, let alone get the right stuff for him once he's out again, when it hits him how much he's not hurting right now (only a mild ache in his foot and shoulder), and apparently the combination of light work and adequate sleep is very good for keeping his brain off of his body.Another hour after that he gets face time with Valenz and Droit, his agents in Mexico City."What have you found?"Valenz, who judging by both accent and skin tone, actually is Mexican, replies, "Lots and lots of data, but nothing useful, yet.""1024 bit encryption?" Tim asks.Droit, a woman in her early twenties, shakes her head. "Word files."Tim stares at them. "Word? Word for Windows?"They both nod, looking forlorn.Valenz adds, "None of them are less than a thousand pages long, they're just blocks of random numbers and letters. No spacing. No punctuation. No paragraphs. Just millions of characters.""Some sort of code?"Droit shrugs. "Maybe. Since it's in Word we can't even use our usual tools on it. Right now we're trying to get them into a form the computer can mess with."Tim nods, not like you can give the computer a .docx and tell it to decrypt."Um…" He's thinking. While he does write on his typewriter, he also writes on his computer for any sort of second or third drafts and all of his editing, and he knows Word inside and out. "Okay, so, either you produce your information, encrypt it, and then…" He winces. His computer geek wants to scream at this, and the writer is appalled at the work involved. "God, this is messy… Cut and paste it into Word. Which version is it?""Word 2015.""Newest version. Give me a second." He pulls his version of it up and fiddles around. "Okay, open one of the files."He sees Valenz and Droit focus on the screen, and Droit's hand moving over the keyboard. "Top of the page, see all those options on the toolbar?"Droit nods. It's similar, but not identical to Open Office, which is the software his team is using. (Tim prefers Word for writing novels. He doesn't write novels at work, usually. His employees really don't write novels at work. Switching to shareware software for anything he didn't absolutely need the licensed version of saved his budget 500k a year in licensing fees. He's fine to swap that out for a bit less functionality.)"See the 'Review' tab?"More nodding."Go to versions." At the very least, the versions tab will show him what changes happened between saves, and if everything was uploaded all at once, he'll be able to see that, too. "Open the most recent version, open the version before that." He's half waiting for Droit (who's doing this) to say there aren't any other versions, but she's clicking away. "Okay, save both of them with different names." He waits a few more seconds. "Over to compare." He uses that all the time when he's writing for his edits. It's an easy way for him to merge two versions of the story into each other. "Put both versions up, and let's see how different they are."They all wait, Compare takes a while on big blocks of text, and this is supposed to be thousands of pages long. After ten minutes of heel cooling, he sees his tech's faces light up, smiles spreading wide. "What?""Lots of letters are popping up as different between the newer version and the old one," Valenz says. His eyes are skimming over the screen."It's in Spanish, one letter at a time, but no code beyond being buried in this. A meeting place and time."Droit adds, "Maybe fifteen words buried in thousands of pages of text."Tim's thinking that's actually a clever way to hide a text. A book code of sorts. As long as you had the base document to compare it to, you could hide whatever you wanted in it and it'd be impossible for anyone to find. And unlike a book code, you've actually got to know your way around the software in question to find the cipher.Tim's smiling as he says, "Dig the good stuff out and let us know what's going on. You're up to date on the fact that the CIA's read into this, too, right?" He catches some less-than-perfectly professional eye rolls between his techs and sympathizes. "Yeah, I know, it'd be a lot more fun to 'share' everything we know and just give them the raw files, and let them stew until someone figures out how to use Word, but sooner or later we'll want them to be nice to us, so suck it up and hand it over.""On it, Boss.""Hi, Ziva." Tim looks up from his computer as Ziva heads into his office. It hits him that he texted Tony hours ago and hadn't yet heard back. "Everything okay?""Yes, McGee. Tony sent me a text. He'd apparently just gotten one from you, but right now he and Bishop are in Kazakhstan.""Because why wouldn't they be?" Phew, he breathes out, happy his part of this case is keeping him nice and comfy in DC. "So, I guess you want the heads up?""That would be nice.""Pull up a chair. It's good."Ziva nods and sits next to Tim."First off, those chips in…""Juarez.""Yeah. They have the encryption of the gods on them. Without help, there is no way to break them." Though he had sent Atherson a heads up to compare the encrypted files to each other to see if possibly there was a similar sort of code that they were using with the Word docs. He knows that it's a beyond long shot that they'd use the exact same encryption on the almost same base documents and end up with a letter for letter comparable text, but, in that they're getting precisely nowhere without the key, it was worth a shot. "No news back on that, yet. However, if you've got anything, or the CIA has anything they think might be an encryption key, or part of a key, we need it."Ziva's paying attention, looking through her notes. Back when they did just plain murders she could keep it all in her head, but with cases like these, where there are hundreds of actors moving through years' worth of data, she needs notes."I'm not seeing anything listed as a key.""Okay. It's worth keeping an eye open for, and if CIA has tech guys with more data, it's worth pressing them to see if they can find anything."She nods and makes a note of that."Next part, how many Word files have you run into?"That does seem to trigger something for Ziva. Her eyes light up. "A lot of them. They're sending emails back and forth to each other with these files on them. CIA has been over them with a fine tooth comb, and they know there has to be something there, but not what." She's flipping through data pages on her phone. "Like this one. A Word document with 400 pages of the New York City phone book on it. CIA thinks it's a book code, but they haven't found the matching cipher, yet.""That one's older isn't it?"Ziva nods."They figured out some new tricks. Anything that matches something else, something you can check… Okay, this is going to be boring, take a lot of time, and probably not get you any information you haven't already figured out, but here's how it works. Someone scanned in the New York City Phone book. Then they went through and just added letters and numbers to spell out whatever it is. To anyone looking for a code it'll look like typos. Anyone who has the real version scanned in can use Word, which has a compare feature, to compare the old version to the new version, and it'll light up all the changes."Now, the ones that my guys pulled out of Mexico City are blocks of random numbers and letters. Nothing you can compare to, unless you've got the original, or they've written them on Word 2015, and you know how to use the Versioning Tool.""So, you are saying that I need a herd of interns to scan documents so we can compare, and the secretarial staff to start going through any of the new ones we've got?""Unless you want to do it yourself."For a moment Ziva looks overwhelmed, and the she smiles. "You know, I think this looks like a job for all of those students at Quantico."Tim has an evil smile on his face, too. "I'd think that pulling a class of CIA wannabes off training and making them scan documents seems like a fine way for them to grasp the truly grueling nature of spy work and how remarkably unglamorous this whole thing can be."Ziva's getting up when it hits Tim that he's got no idea how the actual case from upstairs is going. "So, you guys have your shooters?"She shakes her head. "That's why they're in Kazakhstan.""Your shooters ran there?" Okay, yeah, it's probably a good place to hide out, but McGee wouldn't ever want to be there. From what he knows about the place, ever since it lit up in civil war back in early '15 it makes Afghanistan look like a garden spot."No. Or at least, we do not think so. We think the shooters may be in Belize. The CIA and the Mexican Federales are tracking them along with the Local LEOs in Belize. The explosives that were taken from the site of the shooting ended up being used in Kazakhstan ten hours after the shooting.""Why would the personal secretary of the main Mexican Diplomat have explosives in his possession? And what the hell were they flying to get them there so fast?"Ziva sighs. "And this is why I will now take a quick and easy murder any day of the week over one of these."I love you, McGeek! Pops up on Tim's phone a few hours later.Got cell service, I see. Tim writes back.For the next five seconds. Bishop's been complaining about those damn Word documents since we got this case dropped in our laps four months ago. Everyone knew there was something up with them. No one could find what. CIA has whole teams of cryptographers going through everything we found trying to find the ciphers for those damn things.Glad it's useful. Mexico City's team is handing over everything it can find. Can you get me in touch with whoever's in charge of Cryptography at CIA on this case? I've got my own specialist and some really encrypted stuff from your victim.Sure. Okay, moving again.Stay safe, Tony!No problem.Ever since last summer, Tim has (and this is putting it mildly) not been the CIA's biggest fan. And apparently, as he's dealing with this CIA cryptography asshole with a chip the size of a nuclear submarine on his shoulder, the feeling is mutual."Look, it's a simple question; have you guys found anything that is or might be an encryption key?""I'm really not authorized to share that information with you," CryptoAsshole says, smirk in his voice. "You are not read into this operation."The first response, which Tim bites down before it gets out of his mouth, is that if this fucker ever wants to get a look at what he's got on those five chips, let alone what comes out of Mexico City, he better damn well get read into this op, as of the day before yesterday when his team found them a functional terror hub with all of the computers intact and in play.He's feeling pretty proud of biting that back because that means he's not screwing up Tony's delicately balanced team of alliances.The second response, which actually goes get out of his mouth, is this: "If I'm not cleared for this information, why do I know you're the person to talk to about it, what precisely it is I need from you, and what exactly I need to do with it?""I wouldn't know, Agent—""Director."CryptoAsshole is very clearly not impressed by Tim's level. He might have just as well proclaimed himself director of a local pre-school. "Director McGee, but I can't be too careful. Once I get the OK from my higher ups, I'll answer the question. Until then, I don't know you, I don't know your agency, and I don't know anything about this case you're asking about."Tim hangs up. "Asshole." Now would be a really great time to have a secretary, because he'd love to say, 'Get me the head of CIA Cryptography,' but there's no one but him to go about getting this person. Instead he scoots his phone over an inch and starts typing.CryptoAsshole won't talk to me.Ha! When did you get good with nicknames? I call him Smithers. He gets back from Tony eight minutes later.?If you're ever in a room with him and his boss, he's right out of the Simpsons.So, his boss is Mr. Burns?Pretty much.Don't want to upset your apple cart. Want me to go hardass on his Boss's Boss? Or you want to handle it?Boss's Boss?Think Leon's going to be happy if I tell him some CIA pissant won't give me the encryption key I need and is claiming he can't because I'm not read in. Next step on my side is to have a chat with the Director of Cryptography at CIA.(Laughing) Let me make a few calls. Yes, I'd love to see the look on Smithers' face, but I want them to keep playing nice with me. Give me an hour, let me see what I can pry loose.Okay. How's it going on your side?Sifting through debris, body parts, and explosive residue. Mostly Bishop and I are making sure someone who knows how to handle a crime scene is keeping an eye on things. Hope to be home with a pile of forensic evidence tomorrow morning.You know, I don't miss that, at all.Yeah, I could handle a bit less hot, dry, dusty middle of nowhere, everyone hates us, body armor chafing from the sweat, you're afraid to take a step for fear of ending up with someone's liver on your shoe, and only catching cat naps sitting up riding/flying between stops.Ugh. Tim's having vivid flashbacks to Afghanistan and how much he did not enjoy that trip. How many died?Not sure. At least six.Sorry.Yeah, I know. Bishops looks ready to puke, and I'm sure Flyboy wouldn't be doing any better.Tim nods, staring at his phone. He can remember his first meat puzzle case. Not good at all.Just got an email from your guys in Mexico City. Tim's computer just chimed, too. Time to do some reading.Yep. Me, too.If you don't have what you need from CIA by… 20:00 feel free to go hard ass on their Cryptography department.Thanks.An hour later, his computer chirps to let him know someone wants face time. It's Atherson.He's smiling. "I don't know how you did it, but I've got a key in my inbox."Tim smiles back, shaking his head. "Not me. Agent Tony DiNozzo and the miracle of how charm, a smooth delivery, a talent for BS, and a spine of steel works wonders for inter-agency cooperation.""Good. There's a ton of stuff here, and it's late. I'm setting it up, making sure the guys in Okinawa," where it's morning and not almost (or way past) quitting time "keep an eye on it so there're no surprises.""Sounds great. Have a good night, you've earned it.""'Night, Boss."He grabs his phone again and fires off. Got key. Prepare for massive data dump in the morning, to Tony. Tim checks his computer, it's a bit after five. Abby should be down soon. Heading home soon. Ortho appt. in the morning.Heading home tomorrow morning, your time. Get in early Saturday morning. Monday morning get together and debrief?Sounds good."You look really tired and really satisfied," Abby says, leaning against the door to his office.Once he put his phone down and realized he was done for the day, Tim started to crash.He nods, beat. He really should have gotten a nap this afternoon, but until two minutes ago he hadn't noticed he needed one. "Good day. I love my job!""Well, come on, let's wrap it up with a good night." She heads in, wraps her arm around him, gives him a kiss, and he slowly lurches up. They head off, him leaning heavily on her, and she holds his crutch.As they're heading out, Brand is snoozing on the sofa."That's your new cyberbaby, right?"He nods, and sees she's looking chilled, all curled up on the sofa in a little ball. Tim grabs the blanket that's on the back of the sofa and tucks her in.He straightens up, noticing she didn't even move when he did that. "Sound sleeper."Abby nods. "Um… I saw her when I dropped lunch off on Tuesday. Is she wearing the same outfit?"Tim looks at Brand. He can't tell what she's wearing anymore, because she's covered now, but, best he can remember she is wearing the same outfit, and she's been here the whole time he's been around. He can see her hair is looking pretty greasy, and… he inhales… yeah, she's a bit whiffy, too. It's a much milder version of a smell that immediately pulls him back to grad-school. Hacker that's been on a coding-binge. On the upside, she's a teen girl, instead of a teen guy, who, in his memory, tend to smell so bad after three days they can knock a person out.He gently shakes her shoulder. "Teenage hacker with no set hours overdoes it, alert the media."Abby smirks at that."Brand, come on, wake up. You gotta go home.""Mrghm." She flails a hand at him. "Too tired.""Come on, get up. I'll drive you home. Well, Abby will.""Mmm?" He hasn't introduced Abby, and Brand doesn't know who that is."Abby, Mrs. McGee, my wife. I haven't been driving since I got hurt, and I'm not starting tonight. Come on, get up. You need real food, real sleep, and a shower."Brand sits up slowly, glaring at him, teen whininess and coding funk radiating off her skin. She's about to complain when the part of her brain that knows who she's talking to (namely her boss and not her parents) snaps into the front of her head, and she blushes hard."I'm fine. I don't need to go home."Abby picks up what's going on before Tim does. "Home's kind of spooky and lonely all on your own, isn't it?"Brand rolls her eyes, but nods."Okay, you're coming home with us. We've got a guest room, bed's made up. Come home, have something to eat, and crash. Your place'll be a lot more comfortable when you're not running on empty."Brand stands up slowly, shuffles back to her desk, looking like she's sleep walking, grabs her purse, and Abby leads her tired man, and his tired tech, to their car.Brand's awake enough to say, "Cool car," but she's pretty much asleep again by the time Abby's got the car in gear.Abby chuckles at this as they head home. "Gibbs did this for me. First major case on my own, running my own lab. It was the dead of winter, snow on the ground, and I'd never driven in it before, never seen more than an inch of it in real life. We'd been working the case for three straight days, and I was dead on my feet. He took me home, tucked me in on the sofa, and made sure I got fed in the morning. Only time I ever saw Stephanie look like she approved of something he had done.""I didn't know you knew him when he was married.""Only saw them together a few times. They were usually fighting then.""Is that how he adopted you?""Step one." She checks Brand in the rear view mirror; she's dead asleep in the back seat. "We adopting a teenage hacker?"Tim chuckles at that. The idea that he's old enough to be the father figure to someone out of diapers is vastly amusing to him. "Maybe. Let's see how it goes."
Next
Chapter 412: Back In The Saddle
Tim worked straight through Tuesday, 'round the clock, in at 11:00 to the next 11:00 to the one after it on Wednesday morning. And then on Wednesday he basically slept 'round the clock, too.Abby took him home, grabbing a quick bite on the way there, and then he staggered off to bed, Tylenol 3 and Aleve coursing through his system (and if he still had any Percocet he would have found that and taken it instead) and crashed into a deep sleep where he woke up briefly to have dinner with his wife and daughter, and then back to sleep again for the rest of the night.Thursday morning, usual wake up time, he's moving again, groggy and sore and planning on another 8:00 PM bedtime (and probably a nap in the afternoon) but he's moving because there's 200 emails in his inbox and most of them are not requisitions for more staples or time off.He's feeding Kelly, while asking Abby, "Tony said something about there being 'data chips' in…" he doesn't remember his name, "the victim's arm. Did you guys get into them?"Abby shrugs and takes a bite of her graham cracker. She's been craving them since yesterday. No idea what about graham crackers Sean wants, but he's getting a lot of them. "We got into them all right, but it's gobbled-y-gook. So, once we got them up and running, off to your guys they went. Last I heard, there's a guy out of Rota who's an encryption specialist—""Atherson." Tim nods. They haven't worked together yet, but he's thinking that if the mirror site he wants to add to his NCIS defenses works the way he wants it to, they'll need to. He's thinking that a hard but not impossible encryption placed on files that are actually collections of random numbers should drive anyone who tries to break into their stuff full-on raving insane."Anyway, we got them cleaned off and running a bit before I took you home. From there the data went to him, and the actual chips went to evidence."Tim nods again as he wipes cereal off of Kelly's chin.They hear the sound of the sliding glass door open as Heather comes in. "Morning! Oh, there's my girl!" She sweeps over to Kelly, giving her a kiss, and then turns to the adults. "Good to see you back here, Tim, Abby said you were on a case. They're not treating you too rough, are they?"He smirks at Abby before replying to Heather. "This time the dark circles under my eyes are just from being tired. Apparently my working-round-the-clock skills are rusty."Heather smiles at that. "So, is now a good time?"Abby says, "Yeah, I think so," and then fills Tim in, "Yesterday, I told her we wanted to talk to her when all three of us were able to get together.""Right!" Tim can see by the look on Heather's face that she knows where this is going and is happy about it. "How would you feel about being a nanny to two little McGees?"Heather grins. "Two little McGees sound awesome.""Wonderful!" Abby hugs her, very happy, and then puts her hand on her tummy. "Say hello to Sean James. If all goes according to plan, he'll be on the outside January 28th!""Hello, Sean! Oh, we are going to have so much fun."Kelly's looking very confused by all this, which is when it hits the grown-ups that they have not made any sort of specific comments to her about all of this. Abby says to her, "You've got a little brother, here, inside Mommy's tummy."Kelly's eyes narrow. That is not information that means anything to her. She does reach out and poke Abby in the tummy, but nothing happens, so she's not satisfied by that response.Tim tries from this direction. "You're a big sister. And in the winter, when it gets very cold outside, you'll get a little brother to play with.""Molly?" Kelly asks."Just like Molly! Anna is Molly's little sister. You've got a little brother growing inside your mommy. He's too little to come out, yet. But when it gets cold he'll be all grown and ready to come out."Okay, she's looking a little more steady with that. She knows who Molly and Anna are and how they relate. "Bwofer?"Good point, no one in their family has a little brother. (Okay, not true, Abby has Luca and Kyle, but Kelly doesn't know who they are, and Jimmy is the little brother, but no one's ever even met the illusive Clark.) And as of yet they have not gotten into what Aunt or Uncle means, just that that's the title certain people in the family have.Heather's smiling at her. "You and your cousins and your mommy and I are all girls. The baby, Sean?" Tim nods, she's got the name. "Is a boy, just like Daddy."And at that Kelly bursts into sobbing tears because she's got no idea what a boy is, but she knows that Daddy is bigger than Mommy and she doesn't see how anything that size can fit inside her without hurting her mommy. Unfortunately the adults have no idea what's set her off, and she's woefully ill equipped to explain what the problem is.Finally, Heather says the magic word 'baby' which is when it finally clicks for Kelly that whatever a brother is, it'll be small, and she begins to calm down.So, on Thursday, both Tim and Abby are twenty minutes late into work, and somewhat frazzled when they get there, but get there they do.First matter of business, before heading into the basement, before battling his emails, is to head up to the Bullpen and check in on Tony. Namely, just because he had gotten his end of the case (and a bunch of other cases) dealt with, did not mean that Tony actually had a shooter… two shooters, Tim thinks Tony mentioned something about there being two of them, in custody.When he gets up there, he doesn't even bother to get out of the elevator. He can see no one in the bullpen, which, hopefully means they've caught the guy and are all having a late morning, or are out getting him, as opposed to they're all out hunting down new leads.Tim pulls his phone out of his pocket and then puts it back. He can't text and hold the phone at the same time.Back down to his office, he flicks on his computers, and as they boot up he sends to Tony: Got your guy yet? Any specific information you want from what we get off the drives/computers?Nothing comes back, so he hopes that means Tony's sleeping.Next step: What the hell time is it in Spain? He checks. Six hours ahead. So he pulls up Atherson on his computer for face to face time. He'd expected Kim Atherson to be female, but a middle-aged Black man is facing him on the other side of the screen."Hi. I was wondering if you could update me on what you getting off the data DC sent over?"Atherson snaps to attention at that. Tim might not have known him on sight, but he knows Tim. "Nothing, yet, Boss." Tim's itching to check Atherson's background, that's a very Marine sounding 'Boss.'"Corrupt data or nasty encryption?""1024 bit key."Tim knows that's code for this is impossible. "So, right out of the Cryptonomicon?"He's not surprised that Atherson gets that reference. He's also not surprised to see that makes Atherson relax a bit. "Exactly. If you can find a key for it, if you can find me part of the key for it…"Tim nods; he gets it. They don't make computers big and fast enough to break that encryption, not without help."That all, Boss?""Almost. I'm thinking of spiffing up out cybersecurity. We've got that mirror site in place right now, and what I want to do is make a fully functional version, with all of our files. I want file names, dates, and who is on them encrypted, tough but not unbreakable, and then I want all of the details in those files to be encrypted piles of random numbers and letters."Atherson smiles. Anyone who breaks the first layer will assume they've got a dual encryption going. He laughs at McGee's idea. "You are sick.""Thank you!" Tim nods, smiling. "Once we've got the full mirror up and in place, are you set to handle that?""It'll take me less than a day to write the scripts…" He pauses and thinks. "You just want me to do the encryption, right? Someone else is handling the script that produces a mirror file for every real one?" Tim nods. His crew in DC will handle that. "Just promise me, if anyone does get into it, that you'll make sure I get logs of the back tracking so I can see them try to break it." Atherson is grinning at that idea."Oh yeah. That'll be fun to watch. Trust me, we get someone take a whack at it, it'll be movie night for NCIS Cybercrime world over."Atherson laughs at that. 'I'll bring the popcorn.""Thank you, Atherson.""No problem, Boss."Tim logs off from that and then calls up his Mexico City team. No one answers and he realizes he should have checked the time there. It's… no they're only an hour behind, so... He double checks. He's only got two guys out of Mexico City, and they're on shift together, from about 10:00 to 14:00 and from 18:00 to 22:00. Interesting schedule, must have built in siesta time. But so far it's working.He sends an email to them asking for facetime once they get in.Then it's back to his email backlog.999 emails to read999 emailsOpen one up, deal with the muck999 email to readHe swears the damn things are coming in just as fast as he's dealing with them. It's occurring to him that part of being able to get through with his back log was doing nothing but emails, but part of it was also that no one was sending him anything of any substance. But as of Tuesday, he's really back, which means that, in addition to requisitions for staples, he's also getting case work, thorny code issues, and requests for 'opinions' (aka, please tell me what to do) on sticky cases.It feels good. Sisyphean, but this is the hill he wants to be rolling a boulder up. (At least now, in a week or two the shine may wear off.)He's absently rubbing his ankle, reading over a request from one of his Techs in the Seattle Office for how to translate what he just did so the Agent in charge understands and is able to use the information he's found, let alone get the right stuff for him once he's out again, when it hits him how much he's not hurting right now (only a mild ache in his foot and shoulder), and apparently the combination of light work and adequate sleep is very good for keeping his brain off of his body.Another hour after that he gets face time with Valenz and Droit, his agents in Mexico City."What have you found?"Valenz, who judging by both accent and skin tone, actually is Mexican, replies, "Lots and lots of data, but nothing useful, yet.""1024 bit encryption?" Tim asks.Droit, a woman in her early twenties, shakes her head. "Word files."Tim stares at them. "Word? Word for Windows?"They both nod, looking forlorn.Valenz adds, "None of them are less than a thousand pages long, they're just blocks of random numbers and letters. No spacing. No punctuation. No paragraphs. Just millions of characters.""Some sort of code?"Droit shrugs. "Maybe. Since it's in Word we can't even use our usual tools on it. Right now we're trying to get them into a form the computer can mess with."Tim nods, not like you can give the computer a .docx and tell it to decrypt."Um…" He's thinking. While he does write on his typewriter, he also writes on his computer for any sort of second or third drafts and all of his editing, and he knows Word inside and out. "Okay, so, either you produce your information, encrypt it, and then…" He winces. His computer geek wants to scream at this, and the writer is appalled at the work involved. "God, this is messy… Cut and paste it into Word. Which version is it?""Word 2015.""Newest version. Give me a second." He pulls his version of it up and fiddles around. "Okay, open one of the files."He sees Valenz and Droit focus on the screen, and Droit's hand moving over the keyboard. "Top of the page, see all those options on the toolbar?"Droit nods. It's similar, but not identical to Open Office, which is the software his team is using. (Tim prefers Word for writing novels. He doesn't write novels at work, usually. His employees really don't write novels at work. Switching to shareware software for anything he didn't absolutely need the licensed version of saved his budget 500k a year in licensing fees. He's fine to swap that out for a bit less functionality.)"See the 'Review' tab?"More nodding."Go to versions." At the very least, the versions tab will show him what changes happened between saves, and if everything was uploaded all at once, he'll be able to see that, too. "Open the most recent version, open the version before that." He's half waiting for Droit (who's doing this) to say there aren't any other versions, but she's clicking away. "Okay, save both of them with different names." He waits a few more seconds. "Over to compare." He uses that all the time when he's writing for his edits. It's an easy way for him to merge two versions of the story into each other. "Put both versions up, and let's see how different they are."They all wait, Compare takes a while on big blocks of text, and this is supposed to be thousands of pages long. After ten minutes of heel cooling, he sees his tech's faces light up, smiles spreading wide. "What?""Lots of letters are popping up as different between the newer version and the old one," Valenz says. His eyes are skimming over the screen."It's in Spanish, one letter at a time, but no code beyond being buried in this. A meeting place and time."Droit adds, "Maybe fifteen words buried in thousands of pages of text."Tim's thinking that's actually a clever way to hide a text. A book code of sorts. As long as you had the base document to compare it to, you could hide whatever you wanted in it and it'd be impossible for anyone to find. And unlike a book code, you've actually got to know your way around the software in question to find the cipher.Tim's smiling as he says, "Dig the good stuff out and let us know what's going on. You're up to date on the fact that the CIA's read into this, too, right?" He catches some less-than-perfectly professional eye rolls between his techs and sympathizes. "Yeah, I know, it'd be a lot more fun to 'share' everything we know and just give them the raw files, and let them stew until someone figures out how to use Word, but sooner or later we'll want them to be nice to us, so suck it up and hand it over.""On it, Boss.""Hi, Ziva." Tim looks up from his computer as Ziva heads into his office. It hits him that he texted Tony hours ago and hadn't yet heard back. "Everything okay?""Yes, McGee. Tony sent me a text. He'd apparently just gotten one from you, but right now he and Bishop are in Kazakhstan.""Because why wouldn't they be?" Phew, he breathes out, happy his part of this case is keeping him nice and comfy in DC. "So, I guess you want the heads up?""That would be nice.""Pull up a chair. It's good."Ziva nods and sits next to Tim."First off, those chips in…""Juarez.""Yeah. They have the encryption of the gods on them. Without help, there is no way to break them." Though he had sent Atherson a heads up to compare the encrypted files to each other to see if possibly there was a similar sort of code that they were using with the Word docs. He knows that it's a beyond long shot that they'd use the exact same encryption on the almost same base documents and end up with a letter for letter comparable text, but, in that they're getting precisely nowhere without the key, it was worth a shot. "No news back on that, yet. However, if you've got anything, or the CIA has anything they think might be an encryption key, or part of a key, we need it."Ziva's paying attention, looking through her notes. Back when they did just plain murders she could keep it all in her head, but with cases like these, where there are hundreds of actors moving through years' worth of data, she needs notes."I'm not seeing anything listed as a key.""Okay. It's worth keeping an eye open for, and if CIA has tech guys with more data, it's worth pressing them to see if they can find anything."She nods and makes a note of that."Next part, how many Word files have you run into?"That does seem to trigger something for Ziva. Her eyes light up. "A lot of them. They're sending emails back and forth to each other with these files on them. CIA has been over them with a fine tooth comb, and they know there has to be something there, but not what." She's flipping through data pages on her phone. "Like this one. A Word document with 400 pages of the New York City phone book on it. CIA thinks it's a book code, but they haven't found the matching cipher, yet.""That one's older isn't it?"Ziva nods."They figured out some new tricks. Anything that matches something else, something you can check… Okay, this is going to be boring, take a lot of time, and probably not get you any information you haven't already figured out, but here's how it works. Someone scanned in the New York City Phone book. Then they went through and just added letters and numbers to spell out whatever it is. To anyone looking for a code it'll look like typos. Anyone who has the real version scanned in can use Word, which has a compare feature, to compare the old version to the new version, and it'll light up all the changes."Now, the ones that my guys pulled out of Mexico City are blocks of random numbers and letters. Nothing you can compare to, unless you've got the original, or they've written them on Word 2015, and you know how to use the Versioning Tool.""So, you are saying that I need a herd of interns to scan documents so we can compare, and the secretarial staff to start going through any of the new ones we've got?""Unless you want to do it yourself."For a moment Ziva looks overwhelmed, and the she smiles. "You know, I think this looks like a job for all of those students at Quantico."Tim has an evil smile on his face, too. "I'd think that pulling a class of CIA wannabes off training and making them scan documents seems like a fine way for them to grasp the truly grueling nature of spy work and how remarkably unglamorous this whole thing can be."Ziva's getting up when it hits Tim that he's got no idea how the actual case from upstairs is going. "So, you guys have your shooters?"She shakes her head. "That's why they're in Kazakhstan.""Your shooters ran there?" Okay, yeah, it's probably a good place to hide out, but McGee wouldn't ever want to be there. From what he knows about the place, ever since it lit up in civil war back in early '15 it makes Afghanistan look like a garden spot."No. Or at least, we do not think so. We think the shooters may be in Belize. The CIA and the Mexican Federales are tracking them along with the Local LEOs in Belize. The explosives that were taken from the site of the shooting ended up being used in Kazakhstan ten hours after the shooting.""Why would the personal secretary of the main Mexican Diplomat have explosives in his possession? And what the hell were they flying to get them there so fast?"Ziva sighs. "And this is why I will now take a quick and easy murder any day of the week over one of these."I love you, McGeek! Pops up on Tim's phone a few hours later.Got cell service, I see. Tim writes back.For the next five seconds. Bishop's been complaining about those damn Word documents since we got this case dropped in our laps four months ago. Everyone knew there was something up with them. No one could find what. CIA has whole teams of cryptographers going through everything we found trying to find the ciphers for those damn things.Glad it's useful. Mexico City's team is handing over everything it can find. Can you get me in touch with whoever's in charge of Cryptography at CIA on this case? I've got my own specialist and some really encrypted stuff from your victim.Sure. Okay, moving again.Stay safe, Tony!No problem.Ever since last summer, Tim has (and this is putting it mildly) not been the CIA's biggest fan. And apparently, as he's dealing with this CIA cryptography asshole with a chip the size of a nuclear submarine on his shoulder, the feeling is mutual."Look, it's a simple question; have you guys found anything that is or might be an encryption key?""I'm really not authorized to share that information with you," CryptoAsshole says, smirk in his voice. "You are not read into this operation."The first response, which Tim bites down before it gets out of his mouth, is that if this fucker ever wants to get a look at what he's got on those five chips, let alone what comes out of Mexico City, he better damn well get read into this op, as of the day before yesterday when his team found them a functional terror hub with all of the computers intact and in play.He's feeling pretty proud of biting that back because that means he's not screwing up Tony's delicately balanced team of alliances.The second response, which actually goes get out of his mouth, is this: "If I'm not cleared for this information, why do I know you're the person to talk to about it, what precisely it is I need from you, and what exactly I need to do with it?""I wouldn't know, Agent—""Director."CryptoAsshole is very clearly not impressed by Tim's level. He might have just as well proclaimed himself director of a local pre-school. "Director McGee, but I can't be too careful. Once I get the OK from my higher ups, I'll answer the question. Until then, I don't know you, I don't know your agency, and I don't know anything about this case you're asking about."Tim hangs up. "Asshole." Now would be a really great time to have a secretary, because he'd love to say, 'Get me the head of CIA Cryptography,' but there's no one but him to go about getting this person. Instead he scoots his phone over an inch and starts typing.CryptoAsshole won't talk to me.Ha! When did you get good with nicknames? I call him Smithers. He gets back from Tony eight minutes later.?If you're ever in a room with him and his boss, he's right out of the Simpsons.So, his boss is Mr. Burns?Pretty much.Don't want to upset your apple cart. Want me to go hardass on his Boss's Boss? Or you want to handle it?Boss's Boss?Think Leon's going to be happy if I tell him some CIA pissant won't give me the encryption key I need and is claiming he can't because I'm not read in. Next step on my side is to have a chat with the Director of Cryptography at CIA.(Laughing) Let me make a few calls. Yes, I'd love to see the look on Smithers' face, but I want them to keep playing nice with me. Give me an hour, let me see what I can pry loose.Okay. How's it going on your side?Sifting through debris, body parts, and explosive residue. Mostly Bishop and I are making sure someone who knows how to handle a crime scene is keeping an eye on things. Hope to be home with a pile of forensic evidence tomorrow morning.You know, I don't miss that, at all.Yeah, I could handle a bit less hot, dry, dusty middle of nowhere, everyone hates us, body armor chafing from the sweat, you're afraid to take a step for fear of ending up with someone's liver on your shoe, and only catching cat naps sitting up riding/flying between stops.Ugh. Tim's having vivid flashbacks to Afghanistan and how much he did not enjoy that trip. How many died?Not sure. At least six.Sorry.Yeah, I know. Bishops looks ready to puke, and I'm sure Flyboy wouldn't be doing any better.Tim nods, staring at his phone. He can remember his first meat puzzle case. Not good at all.Just got an email from your guys in Mexico City. Tim's computer just chimed, too. Time to do some reading.Yep. Me, too.If you don't have what you need from CIA by… 20:00 feel free to go hard ass on their Cryptography department.Thanks.An hour later, his computer chirps to let him know someone wants face time. It's Atherson.He's smiling. "I don't know how you did it, but I've got a key in my inbox."Tim smiles back, shaking his head. "Not me. Agent Tony DiNozzo and the miracle of how charm, a smooth delivery, a talent for BS, and a spine of steel works wonders for inter-agency cooperation.""Good. There's a ton of stuff here, and it's late. I'm setting it up, making sure the guys in Okinawa," where it's morning and not almost (or way past) quitting time "keep an eye on it so there're no surprises.""Sounds great. Have a good night, you've earned it.""'Night, Boss."He grabs his phone again and fires off. Got key. Prepare for massive data dump in the morning, to Tony. Tim checks his computer, it's a bit after five. Abby should be down soon. Heading home soon. Ortho appt. in the morning.Heading home tomorrow morning, your time. Get in early Saturday morning. Monday morning get together and debrief?Sounds good."You look really tired and really satisfied," Abby says, leaning against the door to his office.Once he put his phone down and realized he was done for the day, Tim started to crash.He nods, beat. He really should have gotten a nap this afternoon, but until two minutes ago he hadn't noticed he needed one. "Good day. I love my job!""Well, come on, let's wrap it up with a good night." She heads in, wraps her arm around him, gives him a kiss, and he slowly lurches up. They head off, him leaning heavily on her, and she holds his crutch.As they're heading out, Brand is snoozing on the sofa."That's your new cyberbaby, right?"He nods, and sees she's looking chilled, all curled up on the sofa in a little ball. Tim grabs the blanket that's on the back of the sofa and tucks her in.He straightens up, noticing she didn't even move when he did that. "Sound sleeper."Abby nods. "Um… I saw her when I dropped lunch off on Tuesday. Is she wearing the same outfit?"Tim looks at Brand. He can't tell what she's wearing anymore, because she's covered now, but, best he can remember she is wearing the same outfit, and she's been here the whole time he's been around. He can see her hair is looking pretty greasy, and… he inhales… yeah, she's a bit whiffy, too. It's a much milder version of a smell that immediately pulls him back to grad-school. Hacker that's been on a coding-binge. On the upside, she's a teen girl, instead of a teen guy, who, in his memory, tend to smell so bad after three days they can knock a person out.He gently shakes her shoulder. "Teenage hacker with no set hours overdoes it, alert the media."Abby smirks at that."Brand, come on, wake up. You gotta go home.""Mrghm." She flails a hand at him. "Too tired.""Come on, get up. I'll drive you home. Well, Abby will.""Mmm?" He hasn't introduced Abby, and Brand doesn't know who that is."Abby, Mrs. McGee, my wife. I haven't been driving since I got hurt, and I'm not starting tonight. Come on, get up. You need real food, real sleep, and a shower."Brand sits up slowly, glaring at him, teen whininess and coding funk radiating off her skin. She's about to complain when the part of her brain that knows who she's talking to (namely her boss and not her parents) snaps into the front of her head, and she blushes hard."I'm fine. I don't need to go home."Abby picks up what's going on before Tim does. "Home's kind of spooky and lonely all on your own, isn't it?"Brand rolls her eyes, but nods."Okay, you're coming home with us. We've got a guest room, bed's made up. Come home, have something to eat, and crash. Your place'll be a lot more comfortable when you're not running on empty."Brand stands up slowly, shuffles back to her desk, looking like she's sleep walking, grabs her purse, and Abby leads her tired man, and his tired tech, to their car.Brand's awake enough to say, "Cool car," but she's pretty much asleep again by the time Abby's got the car in gear.Abby chuckles at this as they head home. "Gibbs did this for me. First major case on my own, running my own lab. It was the dead of winter, snow on the ground, and I'd never driven in it before, never seen more than an inch of it in real life. We'd been working the case for three straight days, and I was dead on my feet. He took me home, tucked me in on the sofa, and made sure I got fed in the morning. Only time I ever saw Stephanie look like she approved of something he had done.""I didn't know you knew him when he was married.""Only saw them together a few times. They were usually fighting then.""Is that how he adopted you?""Step one." She checks Brand in the rear view mirror; she's dead asleep in the back seat. "We adopting a teenage hacker?"Tim chuckles at that. The idea that he's old enough to be the father figure to someone out of diapers is vastly amusing to him. "Maybe. Let's see how it goes."
Next
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 411: All Hands On Deck
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 411: All Hands On Deck
Tim gets into his office in a very good mood. He opens up his computer, uploads the shot of Sean, and begins printing it out to put on his door. He figures that's the most efficient way to get the news out to the wider world that another McGee will be joining it soon.He's in an even better mood as he gets to walk from his desk to his door, holding the picture and a piece of tape.Jimmy's onto something with the whole keep taking the real pain meds and move around more thing. This still hurts, but a lot less than it did on Aleve, and a lot less than it did on Friday with the Tylenol 3. He's not sure if that's because he's moving more, or if it's just a matter of Tylenol 3 being built up in his system enough to really do its job, but either way, he can walk several steps at a go somewhere between mild pain and moderate discomfort. Both of which he considers better than how walking used to feel and vastly better than not walking at all.He's taping the picture up when his computer chirps at him. He stops taping. He hasn't heard that chirp before. It's not his go check your email chirp, or his you've got an IM chirp, doesn't sound like Facebook (which he's rarely on at work and hasn't logged onto yet, anyway). It's not the 'a job you're on the hook for just came up' chirp. And he's fairly certain it's not the 'we're low on hackers get over here and do your job' chirp, either.But, he knows he did tell the computer to let him know when all sorts of things were up. (He can very easily get so into his work that he needs some sort of alarm to let him know to shift focus.) And he knows that if this is a chirp he doesn't remember setting up, he's getting a Zebra alert instead of a Horses alert, so this is some manner of exotic thing looking for his attention.The computer's on its third chirp by the time he gets to it, and when he sees what's up, he's cursing that he's only got one hand.He sends out the All Hands call fast, anyone who is not actively on a priority one job (terrorism threat, kidnapping) just got called into work.Someone's attacking NCIS, trying to break his firewall, using their intranet mail servers as an attempted entry point.Manner, Howard, and Brand are all heading toward his office as soon as he's finished typing up that alert, but he's already switched onto job number two."Palmer.""Jimmy, remember that all hands on deck scenario?""Uh, yeah, sure?""Meet me in Vance's office in ten minutes, okay?""Okay."Tim turns off his phone, and checks his computer to see who's up and on by now. Three techs in his office, and twenty-two more around the globe.Good place to start."We've got an attempted security breech in progress."Brand's eyes go wide. This is her second day on the job and they've already got a hot case. She's happy and excited and a little nervous. Manner doesn't look impressed. Feds get hacked all the time, usually those hacks fail."Looks like they're trying to use our email system to get in."Howard also looks bored by this. They know how to shut this down. "So, we're all hot and bothered, why?"He smiles at her, and by extension anyone who's watching this through his video feed."First off," he gestures so they can see what's on his screen, and hits the commands, curses under his breath when he hits a few wrong keys, and then hits them in again, slowly, so that the rest of his crew can see it on their computers, "this one probably would succeed if we just left it alone." They can all see that's some sophisticated code aimed at them. "Second of all, we aren't usually a target of this kind of attack, so they're looking for something specific." They get hit two or three times a day, but usually by people who are just messing around. This attack looks like something that could make it through his firewall, given enough time. "Third of all, I want to see how fast we can get an NCIS mirror system up, and then, while they think they're raiding the place, and we're spooning them crap information, I want to see what they're looking at, who they are, and what they're using the information for. This attack looks like it's got some brains behind it, not just kids messing around for kicks, so let's get to it."And suddenly everyone who's listening knows why this is an all hands situation. Shutting the attack down would take a matter of minutes. Building a mirror site will take hours, if not longer. Containing the attack so that the hackers think they're getting somewhere until they get the mirror up and the hack switched over to the mirror site is yet another level of something all-together."Okay, I've got to go see Leon, you all know your specialties, break off into them, and get moving."Brand's looking elated at the idea of dealing with this, and a bit lost because she's not sure what team she should be. "Good time to start, Brand," Tim says. "I want you with Howard working on finding out who is doing this. Subtle enough so they don't know we're tracking them back, right?""Yes, Boss.""Manner, you know what you're doing, right?"Manner nods. He's already got his phone in hand, checking to see who else is up and working. "Yeah, Blake, Tomishido, and Frederickson are on, too. We've got making the hackers think they're getting in without letting them see anything interesting."Tim smiles at them, and gently pats the back of Brand's head as he grabs his crutch and heads, as fast as he can, toward the elevator."So, I take it there's something interesting going on?" Leon asks as he eyes Tim and Jimmy in his office.Tim quickly explains what is going on, and why he wants the clean piss-test waived. Jimmy quickly adds in the bit about being okay to work, before Leon asks why he's there.Leon smiles and nods. "I did not, for one moment, think you'd actually obey that order. I was thinking, that at best, I'd be able to get you to take an extra day or two off before you got Agent DiNozzo to pee into a cup for you. I'm impressed, Dr. Palmer, that you've done such a good job of reining McGee in. Yes, go work, do your magic, report back when you know what's going on."Tim sends a glare that's halfway between annoyed and bemused to Leon, and then starts to hobble toward Cybercrime.He's at the door when Leon adds, "By the way, I got your email. Congratulations!"Tim actually has to think for a second about what Leon's talking about before it hits and he feels tremendously stupid for forgetting. "Oh, yeah, thanks! We're over the moon about it."Leon smiles at him, nodding. "I understand."If he could be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he would be, but he can't, so instead of actually bouncing up and down, Tim's just giving off the impression of wanting to bounce up and down."I take it you're eager to be back?" Jimmy asks."You have no idea. It's a great case. Whoever's behind this is using an…" and from there very technical words start spewing out of Tim, and Jimmy just stands there, nodding at him.When Tim pauses to breathe Jimmy says, "You realize you could be saying this in Klingon and it'd mean just as much to me?""Oh, yeah. It's a good case.""So, I gather. Don't overdo it, okay?"Tim nods, then deflates a little. "You're serious about being on Tylenol 3 being like being drunk, right?""Yeah. I was.""Great. My last one was this morning. Seriously, should I just be supervising?"Jimmy thinks for a minute, too. "Drunk" is very subjective and ranges from out of your head to mildly impaired. "Sixteen plus thirty-seven plus fourteen minus three.""Sixty-four," Tim shoots back almost before Jimmy's done talking."If I gave you a quadratic could you factor it?"Tim smirks at that. "If you could remember a quadratic to give me, then yes, I can factor it, in my head."Jimmy inclines his head. Tim read his bluff. At this point he's not even sure what a quadratic is anymore, beyond something he used to do in high school. "If it absolutely has to be right, make sure someone else gives it a one over. This is going to take a while, right?"Tim nods."Like all day?""And then some.""I'll check in before I go home, see how bad you're hurting. You haven't worked a full day, brain on, for a while, sack out and get a nap, or two, if you need to, okay?""Okay." The elevator bongs, letting them know they're at Autopsy. Jimmy's about to step out when Tim asks, "Do you have any Novocain or something like that?""No, but I can probably get some. Not a good long-term solution, but if you've got like an hour's work and the pain is driving you buggy, we can see about trying it.""Thanks."The doors slide shut, and though Tim had hit the button for the basement, he also presses the button for the Lab, as well.He hobbles in, sees the LabRats ratting away, wrestling data out of samples and Major Mass Spec. Abby looks up from her pipettes and sees the look on his face."You've got a real case.""Yeah, and I'm cleared to work it. Not sure when I'm heading home, but…"She smiles at him, seeing how happy he is to be working. "I know the drill. When I get lunch, I'll bring you some?""Thank you." He kisses her gently, fingers brushing her tummy. "You let them know?"She turns away from Major Mass Spec to her computer and points at the shot of Sean on it.He smiles again. This is a very good day.Okay, once upon a time Tim did this whenever he needed to. Code all day, code all night, vanish into numbers and symbols and make the computer sing his tune in its sweet little hum of a voice. No problem! Bring on the code. He was the code master, and it was his willing tool.Not today.First off, he can type faster than he can talk. At least, he can type faster than he speak code. Sigh. By the time it's out of his mouth he's often getting lost in the details.Second of all, while it does appear that what eventually does hit the screen is good, it's tiring him out a whole hell of a lot faster than he thinks it should. He used to do this for hours, slurping down coffee, fingers flying, brain firing on all cylinders.It's been three hours, his eyes are already blurring and he's having a hard time staying focused. Part of it, he absolutely knows, is the lack of caffeine. Large quantities of mild stimulants help keep his brain on track. Part of it, absolutely, is the Tylenol 3. In addition to not being able to focus the way he wants to, he's also feeling it leach out of his body, which means he's starting to ache, which is also not helping with his focus. And part of it, though he doesn't like to admit it, is that his body is already working double overtime healing up and doesn't have much energy to spend on things like deep, intricate thought.He's (according to him) pathetically grateful when Abby comes in with lunch, thus giving him a good excuse for a break."How's it going?" she can see he's less 'go get 'em' than he'd usually be this far into a coding spree.He rolls his eyes and sighs, pulling the bag toward him. "What's for lunch?""Cold cucumber-dill soup, smoked salmon sashimi, iced mint tea.""Sounds good." He's looking really tired as he takes the straws and glasses out of the bag."You're fried, aren't you?""I shouldn't be."She shuts the door and then kisses the top of his head, sitting on his desk, resting her feet between his legs on his chair. "You are allowed to be fried the first time you go back to doing something strenuous after you get really hurt. I didn't go back to work for three months after Kelly was born, remember?""Yeah, but you also didn't get to sleep after she was born. I'm sucking up twelve hours a day.""Which you need." She turns the monitor toward herself and can see where he left off, and suddenly more code starts filling in on the screen. "See, someone else is taking over for you."He squints a bit, then makes himself not squint; he does not need to squint to read a computer monitor five feet away from his face. "Harrison out of the Great Lakes office. He's good.""Wonderful. Let me guess, there's no way I can get you to go home."He shakes his head. "Can't go home. I can take breaks, catch a nap on the sofa, but as long as I'm saying we've got to turn this into a trap for the guys attacking us, I've got to keep watch on it."She nods. "Then get a nap, okay?""After lunch, I'll get an hour down.""Good."Okay, two hours. It was supposed to be an hour. He was sure he wasn't going to sleep. Just lay down on the sofa and rest a bit. Next thing he knew Jimmy was gently poking him."I guess you can't be in too much pain."Tim sits up, gingerly, wincing. "I wasn't." As soon as his brain realizes he's awake, it starts sending flares of pain through his shoulder, arm, calf, and foot. "Umng!""That's why I poked you, would have let you sleep but your neck and shoulder were all squashed up, figured you'd hurt even worse if you spent more time like that.""Thanks." Tim's very gingerly lifting and lowering his shoulder at the collarbone, feeling pain sparking through his pec and shoulder."So, moment of truth time, more Tylenol 3 and just supervising, or Aleve and working?""If the Aleve isn't doing the job and I can't focus, can I take the Tylenol 3 and just supervise?""Let me check." Jimmy does some googling. "It's not great for you, but yeah, once, it's okay.""I've got Aleve in my desk and Tylenol 3. With any luck the Aleve will take the edge off, and the work'll keep my brain off my body.""Here's hoping."Tim grabs his crutch and stands up, and Jimmy rises from his seat on the sofa next to him. "I thought you were going to check in before you left. It isn't that late, is it?""Nah, half past four. Got a case. Not sure when we'll be back. Allan's gassing up the truck, figured I'd stop in and check on you.""Thanks.""No problem. I told Abby I'd poke in when we get back, mostly likely after she's headed home. If you need a ride home tonight and I'm still here, I'll give you one.""Unless this wraps a lot faster than I think it will, I'm not going home tonight.""Okay.""Have fun with the bodies."Jimmy waves, heading out of Cybercrime.Tim swears that once upon a time, he had stamina. He's absolutely certain he used to. But for the time being it's AWOL, and he's the grumpy MA looking to drag its ass back on board and throw it in the brig.Or he would be, but he's too damn tired to go looking for his lost stamina.Right now, he has successfully kept an eye on everyone, planned but did not execute how to back track the attack, and ordered pizza and burritos for the whole team.He'd like to get another nap, but the sofa and both beanbag chairs are currently in use. Manner went home at his normal time, punting his job off to Connon. Howard and Brand both hit sixteen on and were sacking out for their mandated ten off. Trevet had hit ten on and was grabbing a nap to clear his head. Really more than ten hours at a go isn't a great plan, but some hackers do hit their stride after that. (Brand was actually sulking about having to break at 16. Meanwhile, Tim's wishing he had her energy.)The NCIS mirror decoy is up and running. Tim's made a mental note that that's going into their permanent defenses. Anyone who breaks the firewall is going to get a mound of crap. The pirates who are going after them right now are getting piles of it, meanwhile his crew is getting to see what they're going after. They're mostly pulling up employee data files, Vice Director Craig's travel itinerary for the last six months, but not for the six months coming up, the location of several hundred cases' worth of stored evidence, and case notes for two hundred more cases. His guys haven't found the pattern behind what they're taking, and in that they're still taking stuff, it's readily apparent that they haven't yet figured out that what they're getting is just strings of random numbers. With any luck, they assume that what they're getting is encrypted.Meanwhile, NCIS has the location of the hack down to somewhere in Mexico City, and in only ten more hours, they should have it down to a street address. That is, assuming that this stop in the track back is the real one. He's got people checking to see if it can be backtracked any further, other people trying to get a fix on where in Mexico City, while a third group attempts to figure out who these guys are, and the fourth (which he is theoretically in charge of) attempts to figure out why they want this particular pile of stuff.Tim's feeling especially stupid that it takes him this long, but he's tired, he's hurting, he's out of practice, and he's not nearly well-drugged enough to be thinking clearly about anything that isn't the case, but finally as the clock hits 01:30, he remembers that upstairs, there's a person who specializes in putting together vast wodges of data, sorting through them to find patterns, and then explain what they mean."DiNozzo." Tony sounds distracted when he answers."You guys still here?" Tim asks."Yeah, case up here went hot this afternoon. Just got the scene processed. We found the body of Herico Juaras, personal secretary to Emilio Ventente, the head diplomat from Mexico."Tim feels something click when he hears that."How'd we get the case?""Long story. Part of my multi-year long terror cases. What's up?""I need you to send Bishop down. We're getting hacked, as of ten thirty this... yesterday morning, from Mexico City."Tony says something under his breath, possibly, "Eight" but Tim's not sure. He does say, loud enough for him to understand. "According to Ducky our time of death is roughly 10:00 yesterday morning.""Interesting.""Yeah. Bishop'll be down soon.""Thanks, Tony."There are patterns, and there are patterns inside patterns, and then there are patterns that require the lens of a certain kind of mind to see.And then there's junk.Ellie's looking through what files are being taken. She's sitting on the conference table, shifting things around on the plasma, making notes, munching on a never ending bag of Swedish fish, sipping her coffee, and shaking her head.Meanwhile, Tim's in his office, feeling awake and pretty good because he's on crimes solver mode and that's giving him a decent second wind. He doesn't want to think too hard about how he's going to feel when he crashes."Okay, so, crime scene photos…"Tony's got them up on his phone. Leon already knows they're building files for the hackers to find and that the real ones are going to be entered in a few days under a different case name and lead investigator.Tony keeps flipping through, and finally says, "All set. Should hit your inbox…" and Tim's computer beeps.Tim glances at his inbox and shifts the photos to the right file. "That's most of them, isn't it?""Yeah. Cut a few out. All the ones that indicate we know there were two guys there. We're going to make it look like we know Renuald Transez was the killer.""All right, and he is?" Tim asks."Wet works for a group that makes its money ensuring safe travel for drugs over the border."Tim nods. "Okay, and… once again, you've got this case why?""They use that money to help fund a group that's been trying to shut down the Panama Canal.""Oh. Haven't we been out of there since…""'99. Yeah, we ended up with it because we had more boots on the ground and better intel.""Ah…" Tim's hit the point where he's too tired to get all of these details. He uploads the photos. "Anyway. New files are up and in. If they grab them, we'll know."Bishop hops in as he says that, still shaking her head. She takes a long drink of her coffee. "Judging by what they're taking, my best guess is that they want something we've got in evidence, and they want to know who worked the case. They're probably hoping that if anyone notices the breach that they won't be able to tell what they accessed because they grabbed so much stuff."Tony nods. "Okay, back up to the lab. Let's see what we found but didn't know about."Two hours later a PAY ATTENTION TO ME I'M FREAKING RED ALERT IMPORTANT chirp blares out of Tim's computer.He jerks awake, says some extremely profane things at how bad he's hurting from falling asleep at his desk, rubs his eyes until they focus, and then ineffectually whacks at his mouse to get his computer to shut up.The third time he successfully manages to do it.His eyes scan over the screen, smiles, and he sends back a very quick IM. Good job! A round of whatever the hell your team likes to drink is on me. Paypal me the bill!He stands, sways, pain shooting through his arm and leg, grabs his crutch, no way in hell he's walking without it, and then hobbles into the main conference area."Jimenez and Smith out of Rio got the address! We know where those bastards who are hacking us are. I'm heading upstairs."By the time the elevator gets to the bullpen, Tim's really hurting. He thought he was hurting before. He was wrong.He's making little whimpering noises each time he steps, and knows in a way that he never has before that these days he literally cannot make himself pull an all-nighter.Draga and Ziva aren't at their desks. Tony's not at his, either. Bishop is at hers, still munching away, files spread out all around her."We got the hackers' address," Tim says, and notices that she doesn't look up. He looks closer and sees the cords on her earphones."Bishop!" She turns to him, and he hears a groan from behind Tony's desk as Tony slowly pulls himself up from the nap he was getting on the floor. For a second, he and Tony share a quick 'we're too old for this shit' look, and then Tim says, "My guys got the address of the hackers. We know where they are. So…"Tony nods. "Ziva and Draga are driving down to Norfolk to talk to a lead. Is this the sort of thing where we've got time to get to Mexico ourselves, or should we send in the guys on the ground?""I'd send in the guys on the ground. I mean…" Tim doesn't know the Mexico City field team. In fact, he's not entirely sure Mexico City has field agents, what with the whole it's several hundred miles from the ocean and not a big spot for US Naval presence. He knows that his guys are there because they're stationed out of the consulate, thus giving them the best shot at rock solid communications and good security. "Where are your guys on the ground?"Tony rubs his eyes. "Um… San Diego?" He stretches, winces, twists his neck and it pops loudly. "Think Leon's still here?""Let's go check?" Tim's got no idea of Leon's here or not, after all, not like he can see Leon leave from his office these days.They head up."No Vera," Tony says. Vance's new secretary isn't at the desk.Tim knocks on the door, no answer, so he pokes his head in, no Vance. He shakes his head at Tony."So, Mr. Fourth-in-Command. Can you order a strike team?"Tim's never thought about that before. "Probably. Question is, do you want to shut this down, or leave it in place and see if they come for whatever you found."Tony shakes his head. "Already know what they want. Jimmy found it in the autopsy. Henrico had five data chips sewn into his arm. The Lab's cleaning them up, and in the morning Abby'll start messing with them. I'm sure you'll get called in on them, too."Tim nods. "So, then, you want me to call in a strike team, or grab the jet so you can go yourself?"Tony sighs. Then he laughs a little, pulling out his cell phone. "That's how Gibbs would have done it. I need to call the CIA. They'll get pissy if I don't let them in on this, and I know they've got boots on the ground a lot closer than we do. But, if you can get it up on MTAC so we can see what we're dealing with, and brief the Spooks, that'd be great."Tim nods, tired. "That I can do."It's been years since Tim's watched a mission he broke go live in MTAC. But he's sitting there, in one of the observation chairs, not in his usual seat at the com (Draga's handling that now) watching the glow of three CIA agents and ten SEALs swoop down into what looks like a small auto body shop in downtown Mexico City and "neutralize" the "targets."Once the targets are "neutralized," he sees two more bodies, his guys from the Mexico City office, hurrying in. They're taking custody of the computers. It took a major pissing match between Tony and Hullen (CIA contact for this op) but somehow Tony won control of the scene and the evidence.CIA's getting credit for the bust.Mexico is happy to see another branch of what has been a problem for them go up in smoke.All around, it's been a good day.And when he steps out of MTAC, and sees Abby standing there, waiting for him, he very happily lets her lead him out of NCIS and home, to a long, drugged, and blissful sleep.
Next
Chapter 411: All Hands On Deck
Tim gets into his office in a very good mood. He opens up his computer, uploads the shot of Sean, and begins printing it out to put on his door. He figures that's the most efficient way to get the news out to the wider world that another McGee will be joining it soon.He's in an even better mood as he gets to walk from his desk to his door, holding the picture and a piece of tape.Jimmy's onto something with the whole keep taking the real pain meds and move around more thing. This still hurts, but a lot less than it did on Aleve, and a lot less than it did on Friday with the Tylenol 3. He's not sure if that's because he's moving more, or if it's just a matter of Tylenol 3 being built up in his system enough to really do its job, but either way, he can walk several steps at a go somewhere between mild pain and moderate discomfort. Both of which he considers better than how walking used to feel and vastly better than not walking at all.He's taping the picture up when his computer chirps at him. He stops taping. He hasn't heard that chirp before. It's not his go check your email chirp, or his you've got an IM chirp, doesn't sound like Facebook (which he's rarely on at work and hasn't logged onto yet, anyway). It's not the 'a job you're on the hook for just came up' chirp. And he's fairly certain it's not the 'we're low on hackers get over here and do your job' chirp, either.But, he knows he did tell the computer to let him know when all sorts of things were up. (He can very easily get so into his work that he needs some sort of alarm to let him know to shift focus.) And he knows that if this is a chirp he doesn't remember setting up, he's getting a Zebra alert instead of a Horses alert, so this is some manner of exotic thing looking for his attention.The computer's on its third chirp by the time he gets to it, and when he sees what's up, he's cursing that he's only got one hand.He sends out the All Hands call fast, anyone who is not actively on a priority one job (terrorism threat, kidnapping) just got called into work.Someone's attacking NCIS, trying to break his firewall, using their intranet mail servers as an attempted entry point.Manner, Howard, and Brand are all heading toward his office as soon as he's finished typing up that alert, but he's already switched onto job number two."Palmer.""Jimmy, remember that all hands on deck scenario?""Uh, yeah, sure?""Meet me in Vance's office in ten minutes, okay?""Okay."Tim turns off his phone, and checks his computer to see who's up and on by now. Three techs in his office, and twenty-two more around the globe.Good place to start."We've got an attempted security breech in progress."Brand's eyes go wide. This is her second day on the job and they've already got a hot case. She's happy and excited and a little nervous. Manner doesn't look impressed. Feds get hacked all the time, usually those hacks fail."Looks like they're trying to use our email system to get in."Howard also looks bored by this. They know how to shut this down. "So, we're all hot and bothered, why?"He smiles at her, and by extension anyone who's watching this through his video feed."First off," he gestures so they can see what's on his screen, and hits the commands, curses under his breath when he hits a few wrong keys, and then hits them in again, slowly, so that the rest of his crew can see it on their computers, "this one probably would succeed if we just left it alone." They can all see that's some sophisticated code aimed at them. "Second of all, we aren't usually a target of this kind of attack, so they're looking for something specific." They get hit two or three times a day, but usually by people who are just messing around. This attack looks like something that could make it through his firewall, given enough time. "Third of all, I want to see how fast we can get an NCIS mirror system up, and then, while they think they're raiding the place, and we're spooning them crap information, I want to see what they're looking at, who they are, and what they're using the information for. This attack looks like it's got some brains behind it, not just kids messing around for kicks, so let's get to it."And suddenly everyone who's listening knows why this is an all hands situation. Shutting the attack down would take a matter of minutes. Building a mirror site will take hours, if not longer. Containing the attack so that the hackers think they're getting somewhere until they get the mirror up and the hack switched over to the mirror site is yet another level of something all-together."Okay, I've got to go see Leon, you all know your specialties, break off into them, and get moving."Brand's looking elated at the idea of dealing with this, and a bit lost because she's not sure what team she should be. "Good time to start, Brand," Tim says. "I want you with Howard working on finding out who is doing this. Subtle enough so they don't know we're tracking them back, right?""Yes, Boss.""Manner, you know what you're doing, right?"Manner nods. He's already got his phone in hand, checking to see who else is up and working. "Yeah, Blake, Tomishido, and Frederickson are on, too. We've got making the hackers think they're getting in without letting them see anything interesting."Tim smiles at them, and gently pats the back of Brand's head as he grabs his crutch and heads, as fast as he can, toward the elevator."So, I take it there's something interesting going on?" Leon asks as he eyes Tim and Jimmy in his office.Tim quickly explains what is going on, and why he wants the clean piss-test waived. Jimmy quickly adds in the bit about being okay to work, before Leon asks why he's there.Leon smiles and nods. "I did not, for one moment, think you'd actually obey that order. I was thinking, that at best, I'd be able to get you to take an extra day or two off before you got Agent DiNozzo to pee into a cup for you. I'm impressed, Dr. Palmer, that you've done such a good job of reining McGee in. Yes, go work, do your magic, report back when you know what's going on."Tim sends a glare that's halfway between annoyed and bemused to Leon, and then starts to hobble toward Cybercrime.He's at the door when Leon adds, "By the way, I got your email. Congratulations!"Tim actually has to think for a second about what Leon's talking about before it hits and he feels tremendously stupid for forgetting. "Oh, yeah, thanks! We're over the moon about it."Leon smiles at him, nodding. "I understand."If he could be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he would be, but he can't, so instead of actually bouncing up and down, Tim's just giving off the impression of wanting to bounce up and down."I take it you're eager to be back?" Jimmy asks."You have no idea. It's a great case. Whoever's behind this is using an…" and from there very technical words start spewing out of Tim, and Jimmy just stands there, nodding at him.When Tim pauses to breathe Jimmy says, "You realize you could be saying this in Klingon and it'd mean just as much to me?""Oh, yeah. It's a good case.""So, I gather. Don't overdo it, okay?"Tim nods, then deflates a little. "You're serious about being on Tylenol 3 being like being drunk, right?""Yeah. I was.""Great. My last one was this morning. Seriously, should I just be supervising?"Jimmy thinks for a minute, too. "Drunk" is very subjective and ranges from out of your head to mildly impaired. "Sixteen plus thirty-seven plus fourteen minus three.""Sixty-four," Tim shoots back almost before Jimmy's done talking."If I gave you a quadratic could you factor it?"Tim smirks at that. "If you could remember a quadratic to give me, then yes, I can factor it, in my head."Jimmy inclines his head. Tim read his bluff. At this point he's not even sure what a quadratic is anymore, beyond something he used to do in high school. "If it absolutely has to be right, make sure someone else gives it a one over. This is going to take a while, right?"Tim nods."Like all day?""And then some.""I'll check in before I go home, see how bad you're hurting. You haven't worked a full day, brain on, for a while, sack out and get a nap, or two, if you need to, okay?""Okay." The elevator bongs, letting them know they're at Autopsy. Jimmy's about to step out when Tim asks, "Do you have any Novocain or something like that?""No, but I can probably get some. Not a good long-term solution, but if you've got like an hour's work and the pain is driving you buggy, we can see about trying it.""Thanks."The doors slide shut, and though Tim had hit the button for the basement, he also presses the button for the Lab, as well.He hobbles in, sees the LabRats ratting away, wrestling data out of samples and Major Mass Spec. Abby looks up from her pipettes and sees the look on his face."You've got a real case.""Yeah, and I'm cleared to work it. Not sure when I'm heading home, but…"She smiles at him, seeing how happy he is to be working. "I know the drill. When I get lunch, I'll bring you some?""Thank you." He kisses her gently, fingers brushing her tummy. "You let them know?"She turns away from Major Mass Spec to her computer and points at the shot of Sean on it.He smiles again. This is a very good day.Okay, once upon a time Tim did this whenever he needed to. Code all day, code all night, vanish into numbers and symbols and make the computer sing his tune in its sweet little hum of a voice. No problem! Bring on the code. He was the code master, and it was his willing tool.Not today.First off, he can type faster than he can talk. At least, he can type faster than he speak code. Sigh. By the time it's out of his mouth he's often getting lost in the details.Second of all, while it does appear that what eventually does hit the screen is good, it's tiring him out a whole hell of a lot faster than he thinks it should. He used to do this for hours, slurping down coffee, fingers flying, brain firing on all cylinders.It's been three hours, his eyes are already blurring and he's having a hard time staying focused. Part of it, he absolutely knows, is the lack of caffeine. Large quantities of mild stimulants help keep his brain on track. Part of it, absolutely, is the Tylenol 3. In addition to not being able to focus the way he wants to, he's also feeling it leach out of his body, which means he's starting to ache, which is also not helping with his focus. And part of it, though he doesn't like to admit it, is that his body is already working double overtime healing up and doesn't have much energy to spend on things like deep, intricate thought.He's (according to him) pathetically grateful when Abby comes in with lunch, thus giving him a good excuse for a break."How's it going?" she can see he's less 'go get 'em' than he'd usually be this far into a coding spree.He rolls his eyes and sighs, pulling the bag toward him. "What's for lunch?""Cold cucumber-dill soup, smoked salmon sashimi, iced mint tea.""Sounds good." He's looking really tired as he takes the straws and glasses out of the bag."You're fried, aren't you?""I shouldn't be."She shuts the door and then kisses the top of his head, sitting on his desk, resting her feet between his legs on his chair. "You are allowed to be fried the first time you go back to doing something strenuous after you get really hurt. I didn't go back to work for three months after Kelly was born, remember?""Yeah, but you also didn't get to sleep after she was born. I'm sucking up twelve hours a day.""Which you need." She turns the monitor toward herself and can see where he left off, and suddenly more code starts filling in on the screen. "See, someone else is taking over for you."He squints a bit, then makes himself not squint; he does not need to squint to read a computer monitor five feet away from his face. "Harrison out of the Great Lakes office. He's good.""Wonderful. Let me guess, there's no way I can get you to go home."He shakes his head. "Can't go home. I can take breaks, catch a nap on the sofa, but as long as I'm saying we've got to turn this into a trap for the guys attacking us, I've got to keep watch on it."She nods. "Then get a nap, okay?""After lunch, I'll get an hour down.""Good."Okay, two hours. It was supposed to be an hour. He was sure he wasn't going to sleep. Just lay down on the sofa and rest a bit. Next thing he knew Jimmy was gently poking him."I guess you can't be in too much pain."Tim sits up, gingerly, wincing. "I wasn't." As soon as his brain realizes he's awake, it starts sending flares of pain through his shoulder, arm, calf, and foot. "Umng!""That's why I poked you, would have let you sleep but your neck and shoulder were all squashed up, figured you'd hurt even worse if you spent more time like that.""Thanks." Tim's very gingerly lifting and lowering his shoulder at the collarbone, feeling pain sparking through his pec and shoulder."So, moment of truth time, more Tylenol 3 and just supervising, or Aleve and working?""If the Aleve isn't doing the job and I can't focus, can I take the Tylenol 3 and just supervise?""Let me check." Jimmy does some googling. "It's not great for you, but yeah, once, it's okay.""I've got Aleve in my desk and Tylenol 3. With any luck the Aleve will take the edge off, and the work'll keep my brain off my body.""Here's hoping."Tim grabs his crutch and stands up, and Jimmy rises from his seat on the sofa next to him. "I thought you were going to check in before you left. It isn't that late, is it?""Nah, half past four. Got a case. Not sure when we'll be back. Allan's gassing up the truck, figured I'd stop in and check on you.""Thanks.""No problem. I told Abby I'd poke in when we get back, mostly likely after she's headed home. If you need a ride home tonight and I'm still here, I'll give you one.""Unless this wraps a lot faster than I think it will, I'm not going home tonight.""Okay.""Have fun with the bodies."Jimmy waves, heading out of Cybercrime.Tim swears that once upon a time, he had stamina. He's absolutely certain he used to. But for the time being it's AWOL, and he's the grumpy MA looking to drag its ass back on board and throw it in the brig.Or he would be, but he's too damn tired to go looking for his lost stamina.Right now, he has successfully kept an eye on everyone, planned but did not execute how to back track the attack, and ordered pizza and burritos for the whole team.He'd like to get another nap, but the sofa and both beanbag chairs are currently in use. Manner went home at his normal time, punting his job off to Connon. Howard and Brand both hit sixteen on and were sacking out for their mandated ten off. Trevet had hit ten on and was grabbing a nap to clear his head. Really more than ten hours at a go isn't a great plan, but some hackers do hit their stride after that. (Brand was actually sulking about having to break at 16. Meanwhile, Tim's wishing he had her energy.)The NCIS mirror decoy is up and running. Tim's made a mental note that that's going into their permanent defenses. Anyone who breaks the firewall is going to get a mound of crap. The pirates who are going after them right now are getting piles of it, meanwhile his crew is getting to see what they're going after. They're mostly pulling up employee data files, Vice Director Craig's travel itinerary for the last six months, but not for the six months coming up, the location of several hundred cases' worth of stored evidence, and case notes for two hundred more cases. His guys haven't found the pattern behind what they're taking, and in that they're still taking stuff, it's readily apparent that they haven't yet figured out that what they're getting is just strings of random numbers. With any luck, they assume that what they're getting is encrypted.Meanwhile, NCIS has the location of the hack down to somewhere in Mexico City, and in only ten more hours, they should have it down to a street address. That is, assuming that this stop in the track back is the real one. He's got people checking to see if it can be backtracked any further, other people trying to get a fix on where in Mexico City, while a third group attempts to figure out who these guys are, and the fourth (which he is theoretically in charge of) attempts to figure out why they want this particular pile of stuff.Tim's feeling especially stupid that it takes him this long, but he's tired, he's hurting, he's out of practice, and he's not nearly well-drugged enough to be thinking clearly about anything that isn't the case, but finally as the clock hits 01:30, he remembers that upstairs, there's a person who specializes in putting together vast wodges of data, sorting through them to find patterns, and then explain what they mean."DiNozzo." Tony sounds distracted when he answers."You guys still here?" Tim asks."Yeah, case up here went hot this afternoon. Just got the scene processed. We found the body of Herico Juaras, personal secretary to Emilio Ventente, the head diplomat from Mexico."Tim feels something click when he hears that."How'd we get the case?""Long story. Part of my multi-year long terror cases. What's up?""I need you to send Bishop down. We're getting hacked, as of ten thirty this... yesterday morning, from Mexico City."Tony says something under his breath, possibly, "Eight" but Tim's not sure. He does say, loud enough for him to understand. "According to Ducky our time of death is roughly 10:00 yesterday morning.""Interesting.""Yeah. Bishop'll be down soon.""Thanks, Tony."There are patterns, and there are patterns inside patterns, and then there are patterns that require the lens of a certain kind of mind to see.And then there's junk.Ellie's looking through what files are being taken. She's sitting on the conference table, shifting things around on the plasma, making notes, munching on a never ending bag of Swedish fish, sipping her coffee, and shaking her head.Meanwhile, Tim's in his office, feeling awake and pretty good because he's on crimes solver mode and that's giving him a decent second wind. He doesn't want to think too hard about how he's going to feel when he crashes."Okay, so, crime scene photos…"Tony's got them up on his phone. Leon already knows they're building files for the hackers to find and that the real ones are going to be entered in a few days under a different case name and lead investigator.Tony keeps flipping through, and finally says, "All set. Should hit your inbox…" and Tim's computer beeps.Tim glances at his inbox and shifts the photos to the right file. "That's most of them, isn't it?""Yeah. Cut a few out. All the ones that indicate we know there were two guys there. We're going to make it look like we know Renuald Transez was the killer.""All right, and he is?" Tim asks."Wet works for a group that makes its money ensuring safe travel for drugs over the border."Tim nods. "Okay, and… once again, you've got this case why?""They use that money to help fund a group that's been trying to shut down the Panama Canal.""Oh. Haven't we been out of there since…""'99. Yeah, we ended up with it because we had more boots on the ground and better intel.""Ah…" Tim's hit the point where he's too tired to get all of these details. He uploads the photos. "Anyway. New files are up and in. If they grab them, we'll know."Bishop hops in as he says that, still shaking her head. She takes a long drink of her coffee. "Judging by what they're taking, my best guess is that they want something we've got in evidence, and they want to know who worked the case. They're probably hoping that if anyone notices the breach that they won't be able to tell what they accessed because they grabbed so much stuff."Tony nods. "Okay, back up to the lab. Let's see what we found but didn't know about."Two hours later a PAY ATTENTION TO ME I'M FREAKING RED ALERT IMPORTANT chirp blares out of Tim's computer.He jerks awake, says some extremely profane things at how bad he's hurting from falling asleep at his desk, rubs his eyes until they focus, and then ineffectually whacks at his mouse to get his computer to shut up.The third time he successfully manages to do it.His eyes scan over the screen, smiles, and he sends back a very quick IM. Good job! A round of whatever the hell your team likes to drink is on me. Paypal me the bill!He stands, sways, pain shooting through his arm and leg, grabs his crutch, no way in hell he's walking without it, and then hobbles into the main conference area."Jimenez and Smith out of Rio got the address! We know where those bastards who are hacking us are. I'm heading upstairs."By the time the elevator gets to the bullpen, Tim's really hurting. He thought he was hurting before. He was wrong.He's making little whimpering noises each time he steps, and knows in a way that he never has before that these days he literally cannot make himself pull an all-nighter.Draga and Ziva aren't at their desks. Tony's not at his, either. Bishop is at hers, still munching away, files spread out all around her."We got the hackers' address," Tim says, and notices that she doesn't look up. He looks closer and sees the cords on her earphones."Bishop!" She turns to him, and he hears a groan from behind Tony's desk as Tony slowly pulls himself up from the nap he was getting on the floor. For a second, he and Tony share a quick 'we're too old for this shit' look, and then Tim says, "My guys got the address of the hackers. We know where they are. So…"Tony nods. "Ziva and Draga are driving down to Norfolk to talk to a lead. Is this the sort of thing where we've got time to get to Mexico ourselves, or should we send in the guys on the ground?""I'd send in the guys on the ground. I mean…" Tim doesn't know the Mexico City field team. In fact, he's not entirely sure Mexico City has field agents, what with the whole it's several hundred miles from the ocean and not a big spot for US Naval presence. He knows that his guys are there because they're stationed out of the consulate, thus giving them the best shot at rock solid communications and good security. "Where are your guys on the ground?"Tony rubs his eyes. "Um… San Diego?" He stretches, winces, twists his neck and it pops loudly. "Think Leon's still here?""Let's go check?" Tim's got no idea of Leon's here or not, after all, not like he can see Leon leave from his office these days.They head up."No Vera," Tony says. Vance's new secretary isn't at the desk.Tim knocks on the door, no answer, so he pokes his head in, no Vance. He shakes his head at Tony."So, Mr. Fourth-in-Command. Can you order a strike team?"Tim's never thought about that before. "Probably. Question is, do you want to shut this down, or leave it in place and see if they come for whatever you found."Tony shakes his head. "Already know what they want. Jimmy found it in the autopsy. Henrico had five data chips sewn into his arm. The Lab's cleaning them up, and in the morning Abby'll start messing with them. I'm sure you'll get called in on them, too."Tim nods. "So, then, you want me to call in a strike team, or grab the jet so you can go yourself?"Tony sighs. Then he laughs a little, pulling out his cell phone. "That's how Gibbs would have done it. I need to call the CIA. They'll get pissy if I don't let them in on this, and I know they've got boots on the ground a lot closer than we do. But, if you can get it up on MTAC so we can see what we're dealing with, and brief the Spooks, that'd be great."Tim nods, tired. "That I can do."It's been years since Tim's watched a mission he broke go live in MTAC. But he's sitting there, in one of the observation chairs, not in his usual seat at the com (Draga's handling that now) watching the glow of three CIA agents and ten SEALs swoop down into what looks like a small auto body shop in downtown Mexico City and "neutralize" the "targets."Once the targets are "neutralized," he sees two more bodies, his guys from the Mexico City office, hurrying in. They're taking custody of the computers. It took a major pissing match between Tony and Hullen (CIA contact for this op) but somehow Tony won control of the scene and the evidence.CIA's getting credit for the bust.Mexico is happy to see another branch of what has been a problem for them go up in smoke.All around, it's been a good day.And when he steps out of MTAC, and sees Abby standing there, waiting for him, he very happily lets her lead him out of NCIS and home, to a long, drugged, and blissful sleep.
Next
February 20, 2015
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 410: McSciuto Mark II
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 410: McSciuto Mark II
It's different the second time. Not that it's less exciting, but… there's a sense of calm this time.So, they're only almost bubbling out of their skins with excitement at getting to see McScuito Mark II.Abby's already on the table, holding Tim's hand, both of them waiting to get the show on the road as the Ultrasound Tech gets her stuff set up.New one from last time, but Tim doesn't remember the last Tech's name. According to her nametag, this one is Nancy."So, are we thinking this is a boy or a girl?" she asks as picks up ultrasound wand and applies lube to it."Boy," she answers."Okay, then let's get some shots of him!" And after a few seconds, a little humming from Nancy, and Abby stiffening up slightly, and then relaxing (Tim's working on not paying too close of attention to how they get those pictures. He's afraid his brain might decide it's sexy if he watched and that'd just be… well, probably icky and horrifically inappropriate, so he's watching the monitor) they find the familiar little white on black shrimp on the monitor."And there he is!"And like the first time, Abby's hand clenches in his in excitement, and he feels a hot rush of excited pleasure as he kisses her, eyes never leaving their baby."His heart's beating fine." Nancy zooms in so they can see the blood thrumming through him. "Uh huh… Yep…"That sounds a little off."What?" Abby asks, sounding a little scared. Neither of them are experts in this, but from what they're seeing everything looks good."How far along do you think you are?"Abby thinks, remembering that she's got to add two weeks to the right number. "Ten almost eleven weeks? Why?"Nancy nods. "Yeah, that looks right. Did you want to do a Nuchal fold test?"And Tim and Abby remember that you've got to do that before the twelfth week. "Yes.""Okay, let's get that measured, too.""I was going to ask why you two waited so long to come in, but… You've had some excitement lately, haven't you?" Dr. Draz asks as she walks into the office, looking at Tim.Tim and Abby nod. Tim adds, dryly, "You could put it that way.""What happened?""Ever hear the phrase 'I feel like I got hit with a truck?'" Tim points to himself.Dr. Draz winces. "I'm sorry. They catch the guy?"Tim and Abby glance at each other, since they've never tested out the cover story, they've never answered any questions about it before.Tim shakes his head. "No. But," Draz knows he's a cop, "I've got good people checking into it for me.""Good. Okay, I'm sure that's more small talk than you'd like."They're both nodding at her.She opens up her folder. "Everything looks fine. Nuchal fold is exactly the way it's supposed to be. Heart, lungs, brain, spinal cord all look exactly like they should for almost eleven weeks along. All in all this looks like a perfectly healthy small person."Tim and Abby both beam at that."I do have a question for you, I see you've got a prescription for Zofran?"Abby nods."Who's Dr. Palmer, your PC?"Also a question they don't precisely know the answer, too, though both of them are familiar with the idea that your buddies are not supposed to be writing prescriptions for you. "Yeah," Abby answers. "We've been seeing a lot of him lately."Draz eyes Tim again. "I'd imagine so. Well, first off he's a few months off of cutting edge, we've got something better now, it's called Flarlan. Zofran works for four to six hours, and this works twenty-four. Zofran was designed to deal with chemo-induced nausea, and Flarlan was designed to deal with morning sickness in specific. If you especially love Zofra, we can stay with that, or I can switch you to Flarlan.""I'm usually feeling pretty good by noon, so, do I want something that works for 24 hours?"Dr. Draz shakes her head. "Always a good plan to use as little medication as'll do the job. I'll write you up a longer scrip for more Zofran. We've also got another new goodie. We test your pee and can tell the baby's sex from it. Insurance doesn't cover it, but if you don't want to wait the nine weeks…""Scary expensive?" Tim asks. 'Not covered by insurance' are words he often hears bandied about in horror as he's been sitting in different waiting rooms. Fortunately as government employees, they've still got insurance that covers everything, and as an agent hurt in the line of duty, he's got an extra layer of coverage, so those are not words that have slipped out of his lips. (For which he's grateful. He got a hold of one of the itemized price lists of what his treatments are running and almost passed out because he thought it was a bill.)"Not too bad. Seventy-five. We can do it here and it doesn't take long, so…" She's looking at Abby."Oh yeah! Lead me to the specimen jar.""Once we're done with this part. Any extra concerns? It's pretty much the same routine as last time."Tim can't believe he didn't think of it until now, but he didn't. "Where's the placenta?"Dr. Draz smiles. "Exactly where it's supposed to be, right up top. Though that reminds me, the hospital you used last time doesn't allow VBACs." She can see Tim and Abby's blank looks. "Vaginal birth after C-section. It's a liability and expense issue. Closest one that does is about an hour away from here in Alexandria."Tim's ready to say, "Another C-section's fine," after all, it seemed to go smoothly to him, and he likes their hospital a lot, he especially likes how close to their home it is, but in that he is now a veteran pregnant daddy, he doesn't say that, and just waits to see what Abby has to say."I'll research. The C-section wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it'd be."Draz nods. "And if you opt for another one, this time we've got a much better idea of what pain medication agrees with you, so post op should go better."Abby crosses her fingers. "If we do a c-section, we schedule it ahead of time, right?""That's the idea. Up until they put the epidural in, you can always change your mind, but if you wanted to, you could leave here today with a birthday set. Assuming your baby cooperates.""Huh." Tim can see Abby's desire for the "perfect" natural birth warring with heading out of here with a set date and time. The scientist loves order and precision, and that's definitely where she's most comfortable. The Goth likes natural and organic. He's not sure which side she'll come down on. "So, we could schedule today, and if I did my research and decided to go natural instead?""Not a problem. If we schedule today… We're pretty far out, so obviously things can and likely will change, but this makes sure there's an operating room and an anesthesiologist and all the rest of that aware of the fact that sometime in the general vicinity of your due date, they're going to be swinging into action."Abby nods at that. "Grab your calendar. Let's get a date scheduled."Tim smiles at that. He likes order and precision, too."So, due date is February 5th. We like to do repeat c-sections at 39 weeks, because you're less likely to have started real labor by then, which minimizes the chance of rupture. How does January 28th in the morning sound?"Tim feels another hot, tingling rush at those words. He's grinning like a dork, but just so happy he can't not let it out.Abby's squeezing his hand, hard, and nodding at Dr. Draz "Sounds awesome!""Wonderful. Anything else?"They both shake their heads."Okay, let's get you set up for the sex test, and then off you go!"Smiles broke out across the Gibbs clan as they each checked their phones and saw the tiny, grainy shot of the ultrasound, along with the caption: Sean James McGee, ETA January 28th, 2016, 10:00 AM. More details when we see each other in person.And Jimmy would have to admit, as he was showing the shot to Dr. Allan (and anyone else who stayed still long enough to be badgered into seeing the shot), to being in an especially fine mood.
Chapter 410: McSciuto Mark II
It's different the second time. Not that it's less exciting, but… there's a sense of calm this time.So, they're only almost bubbling out of their skins with excitement at getting to see McScuito Mark II.Abby's already on the table, holding Tim's hand, both of them waiting to get the show on the road as the Ultrasound Tech gets her stuff set up.New one from last time, but Tim doesn't remember the last Tech's name. According to her nametag, this one is Nancy."So, are we thinking this is a boy or a girl?" she asks as picks up ultrasound wand and applies lube to it."Boy," she answers."Okay, then let's get some shots of him!" And after a few seconds, a little humming from Nancy, and Abby stiffening up slightly, and then relaxing (Tim's working on not paying too close of attention to how they get those pictures. He's afraid his brain might decide it's sexy if he watched and that'd just be… well, probably icky and horrifically inappropriate, so he's watching the monitor) they find the familiar little white on black shrimp on the monitor."And there he is!"And like the first time, Abby's hand clenches in his in excitement, and he feels a hot rush of excited pleasure as he kisses her, eyes never leaving their baby."His heart's beating fine." Nancy zooms in so they can see the blood thrumming through him. "Uh huh… Yep…"That sounds a little off."What?" Abby asks, sounding a little scared. Neither of them are experts in this, but from what they're seeing everything looks good."How far along do you think you are?"Abby thinks, remembering that she's got to add two weeks to the right number. "Ten almost eleven weeks? Why?"Nancy nods. "Yeah, that looks right. Did you want to do a Nuchal fold test?"And Tim and Abby remember that you've got to do that before the twelfth week. "Yes.""Okay, let's get that measured, too.""I was going to ask why you two waited so long to come in, but… You've had some excitement lately, haven't you?" Dr. Draz asks as she walks into the office, looking at Tim.Tim and Abby nod. Tim adds, dryly, "You could put it that way.""What happened?""Ever hear the phrase 'I feel like I got hit with a truck?'" Tim points to himself.Dr. Draz winces. "I'm sorry. They catch the guy?"Tim and Abby glance at each other, since they've never tested out the cover story, they've never answered any questions about it before.Tim shakes his head. "No. But," Draz knows he's a cop, "I've got good people checking into it for me.""Good. Okay, I'm sure that's more small talk than you'd like."They're both nodding at her.She opens up her folder. "Everything looks fine. Nuchal fold is exactly the way it's supposed to be. Heart, lungs, brain, spinal cord all look exactly like they should for almost eleven weeks along. All in all this looks like a perfectly healthy small person."Tim and Abby both beam at that."I do have a question for you, I see you've got a prescription for Zofran?"Abby nods."Who's Dr. Palmer, your PC?"Also a question they don't precisely know the answer, too, though both of them are familiar with the idea that your buddies are not supposed to be writing prescriptions for you. "Yeah," Abby answers. "We've been seeing a lot of him lately."Draz eyes Tim again. "I'd imagine so. Well, first off he's a few months off of cutting edge, we've got something better now, it's called Flarlan. Zofran works for four to six hours, and this works twenty-four. Zofran was designed to deal with chemo-induced nausea, and Flarlan was designed to deal with morning sickness in specific. If you especially love Zofra, we can stay with that, or I can switch you to Flarlan.""I'm usually feeling pretty good by noon, so, do I want something that works for 24 hours?"Dr. Draz shakes her head. "Always a good plan to use as little medication as'll do the job. I'll write you up a longer scrip for more Zofran. We've also got another new goodie. We test your pee and can tell the baby's sex from it. Insurance doesn't cover it, but if you don't want to wait the nine weeks…""Scary expensive?" Tim asks. 'Not covered by insurance' are words he often hears bandied about in horror as he's been sitting in different waiting rooms. Fortunately as government employees, they've still got insurance that covers everything, and as an agent hurt in the line of duty, he's got an extra layer of coverage, so those are not words that have slipped out of his lips. (For which he's grateful. He got a hold of one of the itemized price lists of what his treatments are running and almost passed out because he thought it was a bill.)"Not too bad. Seventy-five. We can do it here and it doesn't take long, so…" She's looking at Abby."Oh yeah! Lead me to the specimen jar.""Once we're done with this part. Any extra concerns? It's pretty much the same routine as last time."Tim can't believe he didn't think of it until now, but he didn't. "Where's the placenta?"Dr. Draz smiles. "Exactly where it's supposed to be, right up top. Though that reminds me, the hospital you used last time doesn't allow VBACs." She can see Tim and Abby's blank looks. "Vaginal birth after C-section. It's a liability and expense issue. Closest one that does is about an hour away from here in Alexandria."Tim's ready to say, "Another C-section's fine," after all, it seemed to go smoothly to him, and he likes their hospital a lot, he especially likes how close to their home it is, but in that he is now a veteran pregnant daddy, he doesn't say that, and just waits to see what Abby has to say."I'll research. The C-section wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it'd be."Draz nods. "And if you opt for another one, this time we've got a much better idea of what pain medication agrees with you, so post op should go better."Abby crosses her fingers. "If we do a c-section, we schedule it ahead of time, right?""That's the idea. Up until they put the epidural in, you can always change your mind, but if you wanted to, you could leave here today with a birthday set. Assuming your baby cooperates.""Huh." Tim can see Abby's desire for the "perfect" natural birth warring with heading out of here with a set date and time. The scientist loves order and precision, and that's definitely where she's most comfortable. The Goth likes natural and organic. He's not sure which side she'll come down on. "So, we could schedule today, and if I did my research and decided to go natural instead?""Not a problem. If we schedule today… We're pretty far out, so obviously things can and likely will change, but this makes sure there's an operating room and an anesthesiologist and all the rest of that aware of the fact that sometime in the general vicinity of your due date, they're going to be swinging into action."Abby nods at that. "Grab your calendar. Let's get a date scheduled."Tim smiles at that. He likes order and precision, too."So, due date is February 5th. We like to do repeat c-sections at 39 weeks, because you're less likely to have started real labor by then, which minimizes the chance of rupture. How does January 28th in the morning sound?"Tim feels another hot, tingling rush at those words. He's grinning like a dork, but just so happy he can't not let it out.Abby's squeezing his hand, hard, and nodding at Dr. Draz "Sounds awesome!""Wonderful. Anything else?"They both shake their heads."Okay, let's get you set up for the sex test, and then off you go!"Smiles broke out across the Gibbs clan as they each checked their phones and saw the tiny, grainy shot of the ultrasound, along with the caption: Sean James McGee, ETA January 28th, 2016, 10:00 AM. More details when we see each other in person.And Jimmy would have to admit, as he was showing the shot to Dr. Allan (and anyone else who stayed still long enough to be badgered into seeing the shot), to being in an especially fine mood.
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 409: Brand
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 409: Brand
Tim's eyeballing his dresser. He's standing, sans crutch (though most of his weight is on his good leg) and getting ready to grab something, and then actually, while holding said something, walk (two steps) back to his bed.It's progress. He grabs his boxers, socks, and jeans, and limps the two steps back to his bed.Even though the last cast only covered his foot, it's still a lot easier to get dressed without it. He's not worried about catching it in his boxers or jeans, which is nice. And, in a 'look on the bright side' sort of way, holding his foot extended so he can get his jeans on is sort of like PT, getting all those muscles stretched out again.Plus, first time in weeks he's been able to wear socks and shoes on both feet. Sure, the sock goes under the ankle brace and the shoe over, but, as he checks himself in the mirror, fully dressed, he's back in what he considers his 'real clothing' and that feels good.Feels more like himself, less like everyone is staring.He grabs the crutch and begins to head off to face the day."You text Jimmy? Let him know you need more pills," Tim asks as they idle at a stop light."Nope. OB appointment tomorrow," Abby replies.He smiles at that. "Get to see little dude!"She's smiling back. "Yep!" They're both quiet for a few seconds. "Need to talk to Heather, ask if she's on board with taking care of two baby McGees."Tim sighs. "I really hope so. I love Heather. She's awesome. And I don't want to have to find a new nanny, once was enough. What did she have in her profile?"Abby shrugs. "I don't remember. But even if she had it listed that she was cool with watching twelve kids, we still need to talk to her."Tim nods."McGee." He's sitting at his desk, looking at pictures of the Isle of Skye, when his phone rings and he answers it."There's a kid here, says you're expecting her," says the familiar voice of Burt at the front desk."Assuming she's Kristin Brand, she's right. Newest Cybercrime hire. Send her down.""Her ID checks out, but you still need someone to escort her until she's got her badge.""I'll be up. Tell her it'll take a bit, okay?" Burt knows why Tim's not going fast these days. He puts the phone back, grabs his crutch, and begins the trek to the first floor.As he's hobbling out, he sees Manner working away at his desk. He did a good job of making sure Cybercrime didn't imploded while he was out. Actually… That's a combo that could work really well. Brand has talent coming out her ears. New ideas, new theories, lots of enthusiasm. Manner has a lot of skill, lots of experience. He knows how and why things work. Assuming they don't end up killing each other, they could learn a lot from each other.He smiles as he heads up. He'll get Kristin settled and once she's in place, say a month from now, she's going to get some assignments with Manner.Kristin Brand feels overwhelmed. She's in her most 'adult' outfit, (a very conservative navy blue suit, cream blouse, pearl necklace, hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck) trying her best to not look twelve, but everyone else around her is eyeballing her like she's some sort of interloper who accidentally got lost from the career day field trip and needs to get back to her class before the bus leaves without her.Burt referring to her as 'a kid' didn't help. And standing there, waiting, and waiting, and waiting isn't making this any easier.But, finally, she sees Mr. McGee, he waves, heading slowly toward her, and after a second, when he gets past the metal detectors and she can see all of him, including the crutch and the broken arm, and her eyes go wide."Hi, Brand."She goggles a bit, and finally says, "Hi."He smiles at that, giving off a relaxed vibe, and if she had been staring at anything besides the cast arm, she would have noticed it."Come on down, let's get you processed and settled in."She nods, meeting his gaze, finally sees that he's not annoyed by her staring, and feels a little better. "Okay, sir."Tim shakes his head. "McGee or Boss, Brand. I work for a living."She nods at that, too, not getting it, but not about to argue or ask. As the doors to the elevator are opening, she's kicking herself for doing this. Her friends are still at home, getting ready for college. They're playing or messing around with summer jobs, enjoying the last rush of freedom before school starts for real.She's alone, in a new city where she knows literally no one, with a driver's license so new that it still smells like hot plastic, a brand new car, and a tiny, furnished apartment her parents had to co-sign for. Everything she owns is in six boxes, four of which are still packed, and right now she's wishing she had stayed home.They head toward McGee's office, and once in there, she looks around again, really seeing it this time. (She's not sure she got this far last time. She knows she messed around with Howard and Ngyn—Brand looks around but doesn't see them here right now—but she doesn't think she was in here.) So, as McGee sits down, saying, "I'd pull a chair over for you, but can't really do that yet," she gets the hint she's supposed to sit down, and does so.As she sits, she sees the target with the smiley face shot into it, then looks back at McGee, broken arm, walking with a crutch, and sits there, staring, unblinking, wondering what on earth she could have possibly just gotten herself into.Tim smiles to himself as he hears the elevator bong. He quickly glances up and can see Manner's look of annoyed shock as he walks Brand past his desk. Gonna be fun. He's sort of happily anticipating sticking Manner with Brand in a sick sort of way. He's got the sense that this is how Gibbs probably felt about sending him and Tony out together for the first time.He's sitting down, getting comfortable, and Brand is staring at him like he's a train wreck. He can read the What the hell did I get myself into? look on her face. So he lets her stare, lets her get her bearings. He tries a gentle explanation for what he was doing, but she's still too shocked to really engage with him.Finally he says, a little louder than the first two gambits, "Do you want to know what happened?"She jerks a little at that, his voice having finally gotten through, and blushes, embarrassed at having been caught staring. "Uh, yes, sir."Tim sighs, he's got a feeling they'll be doing this a lot. She's got to get comfortable before she can get out of her how-to-deal-with-adults politely training. "McGee or Boss. I intentionally did not become, sir. All of your co-workers, call them by their first or last names. They'll let you know which. You're a full member of this team; no one in Cybercrime is Mr. or Mrs. to you. Field agents are Agent Insert Last Name Here until you're invited to use their names. Everyone else, Mr. or Ms. is fine. If you run into Leon," she doesn't know who that is, "Director Vance, you can call him, sir." She's sitting on the edge of her chair looking like she's about to leap out and run away. "You can breathe, Brand. It's okay to relax here." He eyes her outfit, wondering if that's part of why she's acting so nervous. "It's in the employee handbook, which you'll eventually have to read and initial, but the dress code down here is casual. If you're dressed like this because it makes you comfortable, that's fine. Be as formal as you like. If this is what your parents picked out thinking it'd make a good impression/make you look like an adult, wear what you like. Down here, you don't have to pretend to be anyone you aren't.""Uh, yes." She's still looking very fish out of water."Official story for this," Tim gestures to himself, "is that I went to a conference and got in a car accident on the way home. The official story is bull. The real story is classified, and I'd prefer it stays that way. But suffice it to say, there is a reason why you and everyone else on this floor will have and maintain FLETC martial arts and firearms proficiencies.""This happened to you at work?" Brand looks horrified by that.Tim's realizing that she probably did not sign up with the idea that people would beat the shit out of her in this job. So he quickly fills in, "Not here. I was a field agent for fourteen years, so I get sent on some interesting jobs. You are not a field agent, nor are most of the people around you. You'll likely never run into a situation where you'll need to do anything more violent than staple paperwork. But if you ever need them, you will have the skills to defend yourself."She doesn't look like she's buying that."DC can be a scary place. I'm 6'1", have a martial arts proficiency, and will not voluntarily go into some parts of it without a gun. My wife can shoot. When my daughter is your age, she'll be able to shoot, too. Trust me, this is a skill that's way better to have and not need than it is to need and not have."Okay, so…""It's in the handbook. We offer classes here. They won't issue you a gun because you're not a field agent, so you'll have to buy your own.""I don't like guns."Common enough. "That's fine. You don't have to like them. You still have to be able to use one, and that'll be a lot easier if you own one to practice with. I try to get everyone to the range at least once a month; you can come with us or not as you see fit, but you do have to learn how to use a gun."She's looking really unhappy about that, and he's wondering if she has some of the same issues he did, great with her brain, not so great with her body. "How long do I have to learn this?""By the end of your Probie year, you've got to have your certifications, and re-cert every year after. Trust me, you'll get it. I got it, and I was awful with a gun at first. Plus, it's a really good way to blow off steam and clear your head after too many hours online."That gets a tiny smile as Brand seems to remember that Tim actually does know his way around a computer.He stands up, wishing he'd thought of this before they got seated. "Come on, let me show you around."It's a pretty quick tour, partially because she's seen all of Cybercrime before, partially because Tim's not taking her anywhere out of the way. He directs them to her desk. "This is yours. Set it up however you like. If you want or need something you don't have, shoot me an email and I'll see if we can get it for your or figure out how to jigger something up to make do with. That pile of paperwork," he points to the three inches of forms next to her computer, "all need to be filled out, in black or blue ink, perfectly, or else Delores the HR Troll comes up and yells at us. I'll probably be gone before you get that done." He's still not back full time, and having gone back on the Tylenol 3, he's got a nap and more PT up for this afternoon. "But, get that done and have Manner," he points to Manner's desk, "show you the system. He can run you through how we work cases. That'll probably be all of today for you."Hours are flexible. You need to be logged in and working forty a week. Since we work world-wide now, it doesn't matter which forty you're here. You need to have at least ten off for every sixteen on, though. And if we end up with shifts that need more coverage, I ask the computer to start picking ID numbers at random until we've got those hours covered." It hits Tim that last month this girl was a Senior in high school and someone else set her whole schedule. So he makes how it works in the Dungeon even more plain. "You come in when you like, you leave when you like. You get lunch when you're hungry. You work the jobs as they come in, and you work until you hit a stopping point. If you've got a week where you do sixteen hours the first day, crash ten on the sofa, sixteen up again, crash again, and then do sixteen again until you are done with the case, that's fine. Overtime is in the handbook. If we've got a light week and you decide you want to do five hours a day each day, that's fine. You want to do four ten hour shifts, that's also fine. Be here when you need to be here, do the jobs that need to be done, and beyond that, you set your schedule however works best for you."Tim can see a gleam in her eyes at that. He thinks he recognizes the look of a teenager given vastly more freedom than she's ever had before. Brand nods, looking at her desk. Right now there's a monitor, a keyboard, a stack of paperwork, and four black pens. The rest of it is up to her."The girls I was talking to last time?""Ngyn and Howard.""Yeah. When are they usually here?""Howard's usually in around two in the afternoon. Ngyn usually gets in after midnight. For the next month, you'll be mostly shadowing people, so if you want to shadow them, that's fine." And for the next month, until she's on her feet, that is fine. But he's going to be getting her working with Manner more. He's sure her style needs some discipline, and he knows Manner's needs some fresh air. "Both of them will be happy to help with whatever you may need. So am I." Tim flips open the handbook, and since he's taken over, page one is McGee's rules. "Never be unavailable. You need something, call or text. Someone on the team will always respond. Okay, I'll get out of your hair and let you fill out forms."She smiles and gets to filling out.Manner heads into his office about twenty minutes after Brand's started filling out her forms. He shuts the door, pulls up a chair, and sits down across from Tim."You hired a nine-year-old."Tim flashes his amused look at Manner. It's not that there's been a radical change in their relationship. Mostly Manner's been doing his job, keeping his head down, and doing his best not to have to interact directly with Tim. He might like the challenge of actually being a real law enforcement officer, but he's also still wary of Tim's fast and loose with the rules style. But, especially after having more or less run the place while Tim was out, he's feeling like he's earned the right to speak his mind freely.Which Tim doesn't mind. He may not like what Manner has to say, but he'd rather Manner just outright say it rather than hiding and being a pain in Tim's ass about it.So, it's with a somewhat relaxed and sassy attitude that Tim says, "You were young once, too."Manner's not annoyed, yet, but Tim can tell annoyed in on the horizon. "The difference is, when I was young, I wasn't pretending to be a Federal Agent.""She's not pretending. Her ID, once they print it up, will be just as real as yours.""That's worse!"Tim doesn't like the edge in Manner's voice as he says that. "You going to give her crap on it?"Manner rolls his eyes. "What crap could I give her? I figured you'd know this by now, what with all the pictures of Kelly you've got up. The thing about babies they give you crap. Not the other way around. We're going to be cleaning up her messes day in and day out."Tim shrugs. "Maybe. But that's a possibility when any new hire.""No, it's not. Any other new hire would have at least proven they could get through college. You don't know if she can hack nine to five well enough to graduate from… Where'd she get in?""MIT."Manner's not impressed by MIT. "Let alone actually do this job without cracking.""Let her do her job. Treat her like any other Probie, like Howard.""Howard belongs here. She graduated college. She graduated FLETC. She got hired by… NSA?" Tim nods; he thinks that's right, but doesn't really remember. "She proved she's up for it.""Brand's proven she belongs here. These days the ticket to Cybercrime is skill. She's got it. We'll work on the rest of it as we go along."Manner is very determinedly not rolling his eyes."Remember, we're not bookkeepers anymore. We go out and take down bad-guys. She took out Anonymous. That's more bad-guy-taking-down than you've done in the last five years, and it's more than I've done with a computer, ever. And part of why she could do that is she, unlike you, unlike me, doesn't code like a middle-aged white guy who's been doing this for decades. The bad guys know our style, so we're getting people with new styles so we can take them down.""Took 'em down. Yeah, she took down Anonymous. No convictions. Nothing she's got can stick because what she did was illegal, in that she's not a cop and just want traipsing all over the place. All she did was scatter them to the winds. That's where you want us going?"Tim thinks about that for a second. "Sometimes. We'll get convictions as much and often as we can, but I'm sure there'll be times where fast and done will matter more than by the books. When that has to happen, that's what's going to happen."Manner's giving him that I hate dealing with unruly cowboys look."Yeah, I know. You're happier by the book. I'll keep that in mind the next time we've got a few hours until an ISIS cell goes hot and kills thousands of people."That gets another quiet glare.Tim shifts topic. "You did a good job keeping on top of everything when I was out. Thank you."Manner inclines his head. "Yeah, well, that's why it's a good idea to put administrators in charge of departments instead of agents. I know what you did. It was important. Navy's happy. But you weren't running the ship while you were doing that. Vance doesn't investigate crimes anymore for a reason, you know?"Tim sighs, and nods. Yeah, there is something to that. "Anyway, thanks.""You're welcome." Manner stares at Tim for a second and then his eyes go wide and his shoulders slump. "Oh, God, you're going to make me babysit her."Tim smirks. "Not anytime soon. I want her settled in and feeling a bit more confident before that happens, but yeah. She'll need more discipline, and you haven't learned a new trick since Hannibal was eyeing Carthage.""Hannibal was from Carthage," Manner doesn't say 'you twit' out loud, but Tim knows it's there. "He didn't sack it.""That just means it was even longer ago than I was thinking. It'll be good for both of you."That time Manner does roll his eyes, and he heads out.Tim smiles as he does, finding that whole experience perversely satisfying.Dealing with Manner gets Tim thinking. While he was out, Manner took over the administrative stuff. Is got dotted, ts got crossed, and while he did have a huge stack of papers to be signed, emails to go through, and stuff to do when he got in, his department did not stop doing its job.But Cybercrime doing its job isn't just about getting all the forms filled out. (And yes, there are still forms. New ones popped up today.) They still had cases to work, two big ones in fact, and Howard stepped up and took over coordinating the efforts for that, making sure that the right people did the right things at the right time all over the world.She won't be in today until after he goes home, but he does think it's important that, like Manner, she gets some petting for doing a good job while he was away. He writes up an email thanking her for stepping up and doing the job well.That done, he gets onto that stack of paperwork. After all, someone has to sign the requisitions for staples.
Next
Chapter 409: Brand
Tim's eyeballing his dresser. He's standing, sans crutch (though most of his weight is on his good leg) and getting ready to grab something, and then actually, while holding said something, walk (two steps) back to his bed.It's progress. He grabs his boxers, socks, and jeans, and limps the two steps back to his bed.Even though the last cast only covered his foot, it's still a lot easier to get dressed without it. He's not worried about catching it in his boxers or jeans, which is nice. And, in a 'look on the bright side' sort of way, holding his foot extended so he can get his jeans on is sort of like PT, getting all those muscles stretched out again.Plus, first time in weeks he's been able to wear socks and shoes on both feet. Sure, the sock goes under the ankle brace and the shoe over, but, as he checks himself in the mirror, fully dressed, he's back in what he considers his 'real clothing' and that feels good.Feels more like himself, less like everyone is staring.He grabs the crutch and begins to head off to face the day."You text Jimmy? Let him know you need more pills," Tim asks as they idle at a stop light."Nope. OB appointment tomorrow," Abby replies.He smiles at that. "Get to see little dude!"She's smiling back. "Yep!" They're both quiet for a few seconds. "Need to talk to Heather, ask if she's on board with taking care of two baby McGees."Tim sighs. "I really hope so. I love Heather. She's awesome. And I don't want to have to find a new nanny, once was enough. What did she have in her profile?"Abby shrugs. "I don't remember. But even if she had it listed that she was cool with watching twelve kids, we still need to talk to her."Tim nods."McGee." He's sitting at his desk, looking at pictures of the Isle of Skye, when his phone rings and he answers it."There's a kid here, says you're expecting her," says the familiar voice of Burt at the front desk."Assuming she's Kristin Brand, she's right. Newest Cybercrime hire. Send her down.""Her ID checks out, but you still need someone to escort her until she's got her badge.""I'll be up. Tell her it'll take a bit, okay?" Burt knows why Tim's not going fast these days. He puts the phone back, grabs his crutch, and begins the trek to the first floor.As he's hobbling out, he sees Manner working away at his desk. He did a good job of making sure Cybercrime didn't imploded while he was out. Actually… That's a combo that could work really well. Brand has talent coming out her ears. New ideas, new theories, lots of enthusiasm. Manner has a lot of skill, lots of experience. He knows how and why things work. Assuming they don't end up killing each other, they could learn a lot from each other.He smiles as he heads up. He'll get Kristin settled and once she's in place, say a month from now, she's going to get some assignments with Manner.Kristin Brand feels overwhelmed. She's in her most 'adult' outfit, (a very conservative navy blue suit, cream blouse, pearl necklace, hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck) trying her best to not look twelve, but everyone else around her is eyeballing her like she's some sort of interloper who accidentally got lost from the career day field trip and needs to get back to her class before the bus leaves without her.Burt referring to her as 'a kid' didn't help. And standing there, waiting, and waiting, and waiting isn't making this any easier.But, finally, she sees Mr. McGee, he waves, heading slowly toward her, and after a second, when he gets past the metal detectors and she can see all of him, including the crutch and the broken arm, and her eyes go wide."Hi, Brand."She goggles a bit, and finally says, "Hi."He smiles at that, giving off a relaxed vibe, and if she had been staring at anything besides the cast arm, she would have noticed it."Come on down, let's get you processed and settled in."She nods, meeting his gaze, finally sees that he's not annoyed by her staring, and feels a little better. "Okay, sir."Tim shakes his head. "McGee or Boss, Brand. I work for a living."She nods at that, too, not getting it, but not about to argue or ask. As the doors to the elevator are opening, she's kicking herself for doing this. Her friends are still at home, getting ready for college. They're playing or messing around with summer jobs, enjoying the last rush of freedom before school starts for real.She's alone, in a new city where she knows literally no one, with a driver's license so new that it still smells like hot plastic, a brand new car, and a tiny, furnished apartment her parents had to co-sign for. Everything she owns is in six boxes, four of which are still packed, and right now she's wishing she had stayed home.They head toward McGee's office, and once in there, she looks around again, really seeing it this time. (She's not sure she got this far last time. She knows she messed around with Howard and Ngyn—Brand looks around but doesn't see them here right now—but she doesn't think she was in here.) So, as McGee sits down, saying, "I'd pull a chair over for you, but can't really do that yet," she gets the hint she's supposed to sit down, and does so.As she sits, she sees the target with the smiley face shot into it, then looks back at McGee, broken arm, walking with a crutch, and sits there, staring, unblinking, wondering what on earth she could have possibly just gotten herself into.Tim smiles to himself as he hears the elevator bong. He quickly glances up and can see Manner's look of annoyed shock as he walks Brand past his desk. Gonna be fun. He's sort of happily anticipating sticking Manner with Brand in a sick sort of way. He's got the sense that this is how Gibbs probably felt about sending him and Tony out together for the first time.He's sitting down, getting comfortable, and Brand is staring at him like he's a train wreck. He can read the What the hell did I get myself into? look on her face. So he lets her stare, lets her get her bearings. He tries a gentle explanation for what he was doing, but she's still too shocked to really engage with him.Finally he says, a little louder than the first two gambits, "Do you want to know what happened?"She jerks a little at that, his voice having finally gotten through, and blushes, embarrassed at having been caught staring. "Uh, yes, sir."Tim sighs, he's got a feeling they'll be doing this a lot. She's got to get comfortable before she can get out of her how-to-deal-with-adults politely training. "McGee or Boss. I intentionally did not become, sir. All of your co-workers, call them by their first or last names. They'll let you know which. You're a full member of this team; no one in Cybercrime is Mr. or Mrs. to you. Field agents are Agent Insert Last Name Here until you're invited to use their names. Everyone else, Mr. or Ms. is fine. If you run into Leon," she doesn't know who that is, "Director Vance, you can call him, sir." She's sitting on the edge of her chair looking like she's about to leap out and run away. "You can breathe, Brand. It's okay to relax here." He eyes her outfit, wondering if that's part of why she's acting so nervous. "It's in the employee handbook, which you'll eventually have to read and initial, but the dress code down here is casual. If you're dressed like this because it makes you comfortable, that's fine. Be as formal as you like. If this is what your parents picked out thinking it'd make a good impression/make you look like an adult, wear what you like. Down here, you don't have to pretend to be anyone you aren't.""Uh, yes." She's still looking very fish out of water."Official story for this," Tim gestures to himself, "is that I went to a conference and got in a car accident on the way home. The official story is bull. The real story is classified, and I'd prefer it stays that way. But suffice it to say, there is a reason why you and everyone else on this floor will have and maintain FLETC martial arts and firearms proficiencies.""This happened to you at work?" Brand looks horrified by that.Tim's realizing that she probably did not sign up with the idea that people would beat the shit out of her in this job. So he quickly fills in, "Not here. I was a field agent for fourteen years, so I get sent on some interesting jobs. You are not a field agent, nor are most of the people around you. You'll likely never run into a situation where you'll need to do anything more violent than staple paperwork. But if you ever need them, you will have the skills to defend yourself."She doesn't look like she's buying that."DC can be a scary place. I'm 6'1", have a martial arts proficiency, and will not voluntarily go into some parts of it without a gun. My wife can shoot. When my daughter is your age, she'll be able to shoot, too. Trust me, this is a skill that's way better to have and not need than it is to need and not have."Okay, so…""It's in the handbook. We offer classes here. They won't issue you a gun because you're not a field agent, so you'll have to buy your own.""I don't like guns."Common enough. "That's fine. You don't have to like them. You still have to be able to use one, and that'll be a lot easier if you own one to practice with. I try to get everyone to the range at least once a month; you can come with us or not as you see fit, but you do have to learn how to use a gun."She's looking really unhappy about that, and he's wondering if she has some of the same issues he did, great with her brain, not so great with her body. "How long do I have to learn this?""By the end of your Probie year, you've got to have your certifications, and re-cert every year after. Trust me, you'll get it. I got it, and I was awful with a gun at first. Plus, it's a really good way to blow off steam and clear your head after too many hours online."That gets a tiny smile as Brand seems to remember that Tim actually does know his way around a computer.He stands up, wishing he'd thought of this before they got seated. "Come on, let me show you around."It's a pretty quick tour, partially because she's seen all of Cybercrime before, partially because Tim's not taking her anywhere out of the way. He directs them to her desk. "This is yours. Set it up however you like. If you want or need something you don't have, shoot me an email and I'll see if we can get it for your or figure out how to jigger something up to make do with. That pile of paperwork," he points to the three inches of forms next to her computer, "all need to be filled out, in black or blue ink, perfectly, or else Delores the HR Troll comes up and yells at us. I'll probably be gone before you get that done." He's still not back full time, and having gone back on the Tylenol 3, he's got a nap and more PT up for this afternoon. "But, get that done and have Manner," he points to Manner's desk, "show you the system. He can run you through how we work cases. That'll probably be all of today for you."Hours are flexible. You need to be logged in and working forty a week. Since we work world-wide now, it doesn't matter which forty you're here. You need to have at least ten off for every sixteen on, though. And if we end up with shifts that need more coverage, I ask the computer to start picking ID numbers at random until we've got those hours covered." It hits Tim that last month this girl was a Senior in high school and someone else set her whole schedule. So he makes how it works in the Dungeon even more plain. "You come in when you like, you leave when you like. You get lunch when you're hungry. You work the jobs as they come in, and you work until you hit a stopping point. If you've got a week where you do sixteen hours the first day, crash ten on the sofa, sixteen up again, crash again, and then do sixteen again until you are done with the case, that's fine. Overtime is in the handbook. If we've got a light week and you decide you want to do five hours a day each day, that's fine. You want to do four ten hour shifts, that's also fine. Be here when you need to be here, do the jobs that need to be done, and beyond that, you set your schedule however works best for you."Tim can see a gleam in her eyes at that. He thinks he recognizes the look of a teenager given vastly more freedom than she's ever had before. Brand nods, looking at her desk. Right now there's a monitor, a keyboard, a stack of paperwork, and four black pens. The rest of it is up to her."The girls I was talking to last time?""Ngyn and Howard.""Yeah. When are they usually here?""Howard's usually in around two in the afternoon. Ngyn usually gets in after midnight. For the next month, you'll be mostly shadowing people, so if you want to shadow them, that's fine." And for the next month, until she's on her feet, that is fine. But he's going to be getting her working with Manner more. He's sure her style needs some discipline, and he knows Manner's needs some fresh air. "Both of them will be happy to help with whatever you may need. So am I." Tim flips open the handbook, and since he's taken over, page one is McGee's rules. "Never be unavailable. You need something, call or text. Someone on the team will always respond. Okay, I'll get out of your hair and let you fill out forms."She smiles and gets to filling out.Manner heads into his office about twenty minutes after Brand's started filling out her forms. He shuts the door, pulls up a chair, and sits down across from Tim."You hired a nine-year-old."Tim flashes his amused look at Manner. It's not that there's been a radical change in their relationship. Mostly Manner's been doing his job, keeping his head down, and doing his best not to have to interact directly with Tim. He might like the challenge of actually being a real law enforcement officer, but he's also still wary of Tim's fast and loose with the rules style. But, especially after having more or less run the place while Tim was out, he's feeling like he's earned the right to speak his mind freely.Which Tim doesn't mind. He may not like what Manner has to say, but he'd rather Manner just outright say it rather than hiding and being a pain in Tim's ass about it.So, it's with a somewhat relaxed and sassy attitude that Tim says, "You were young once, too."Manner's not annoyed, yet, but Tim can tell annoyed in on the horizon. "The difference is, when I was young, I wasn't pretending to be a Federal Agent.""She's not pretending. Her ID, once they print it up, will be just as real as yours.""That's worse!"Tim doesn't like the edge in Manner's voice as he says that. "You going to give her crap on it?"Manner rolls his eyes. "What crap could I give her? I figured you'd know this by now, what with all the pictures of Kelly you've got up. The thing about babies they give you crap. Not the other way around. We're going to be cleaning up her messes day in and day out."Tim shrugs. "Maybe. But that's a possibility when any new hire.""No, it's not. Any other new hire would have at least proven they could get through college. You don't know if she can hack nine to five well enough to graduate from… Where'd she get in?""MIT."Manner's not impressed by MIT. "Let alone actually do this job without cracking.""Let her do her job. Treat her like any other Probie, like Howard.""Howard belongs here. She graduated college. She graduated FLETC. She got hired by… NSA?" Tim nods; he thinks that's right, but doesn't really remember. "She proved she's up for it.""Brand's proven she belongs here. These days the ticket to Cybercrime is skill. She's got it. We'll work on the rest of it as we go along."Manner is very determinedly not rolling his eyes."Remember, we're not bookkeepers anymore. We go out and take down bad-guys. She took out Anonymous. That's more bad-guy-taking-down than you've done in the last five years, and it's more than I've done with a computer, ever. And part of why she could do that is she, unlike you, unlike me, doesn't code like a middle-aged white guy who's been doing this for decades. The bad guys know our style, so we're getting people with new styles so we can take them down.""Took 'em down. Yeah, she took down Anonymous. No convictions. Nothing she's got can stick because what she did was illegal, in that she's not a cop and just want traipsing all over the place. All she did was scatter them to the winds. That's where you want us going?"Tim thinks about that for a second. "Sometimes. We'll get convictions as much and often as we can, but I'm sure there'll be times where fast and done will matter more than by the books. When that has to happen, that's what's going to happen."Manner's giving him that I hate dealing with unruly cowboys look."Yeah, I know. You're happier by the book. I'll keep that in mind the next time we've got a few hours until an ISIS cell goes hot and kills thousands of people."That gets another quiet glare.Tim shifts topic. "You did a good job keeping on top of everything when I was out. Thank you."Manner inclines his head. "Yeah, well, that's why it's a good idea to put administrators in charge of departments instead of agents. I know what you did. It was important. Navy's happy. But you weren't running the ship while you were doing that. Vance doesn't investigate crimes anymore for a reason, you know?"Tim sighs, and nods. Yeah, there is something to that. "Anyway, thanks.""You're welcome." Manner stares at Tim for a second and then his eyes go wide and his shoulders slump. "Oh, God, you're going to make me babysit her."Tim smirks. "Not anytime soon. I want her settled in and feeling a bit more confident before that happens, but yeah. She'll need more discipline, and you haven't learned a new trick since Hannibal was eyeing Carthage.""Hannibal was from Carthage," Manner doesn't say 'you twit' out loud, but Tim knows it's there. "He didn't sack it.""That just means it was even longer ago than I was thinking. It'll be good for both of you."That time Manner does roll his eyes, and he heads out.Tim smiles as he does, finding that whole experience perversely satisfying.Dealing with Manner gets Tim thinking. While he was out, Manner took over the administrative stuff. Is got dotted, ts got crossed, and while he did have a huge stack of papers to be signed, emails to go through, and stuff to do when he got in, his department did not stop doing its job.But Cybercrime doing its job isn't just about getting all the forms filled out. (And yes, there are still forms. New ones popped up today.) They still had cases to work, two big ones in fact, and Howard stepped up and took over coordinating the efforts for that, making sure that the right people did the right things at the right time all over the world.She won't be in today until after he goes home, but he does think it's important that, like Manner, she gets some petting for doing a good job while he was away. He writes up an email thanking her for stepping up and doing the job well.That done, he gets onto that stack of paperwork. After all, someone has to sign the requisitions for staples.
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Shards To A Whole: Chapter 408: Faithful
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
408: Faithful
More doctors' appointments, must be Friday."It's looking good, Tim. Your tarsals are coming along nicely. The vibrational heads have gotten them healed up a lot faster than expected. You're going home cast-free on your foot, which means you can start, gingerly, putting some weight on that foot.""I can stop using the crutch?" Tim asks.Dr. Kent nods, but not enthusiastically. "For about two steps at a time. You can start working on putting some weight on your foot, but not all the time. We're going to stay with the braces for now, bones heal a lot faster than the ligaments and tendons that ripped when your ankle dislocated, but no more casts. Time to work on just getting everything moving again."Tim exhales, happy to hear it. "How about?" He touches his right arm.Kent shakes his head. "Nothing new for that today. Next Friday we'll rescan, see how your shoulder is doing. At the very least, we'll size down some-" That annoys Tim. Yes, he's not moving his arm at all, so he's losing muscle mass, but he doesn't want to be. "And if it looks like your shoulder joint is solid, we'll see about moving you down to a cast for your wrist and hand. So, with any luck, another week and you get to start working on shoulder and elbow range of motion again." Kent checks his notes. "Actually, no matter what, next cast you get to start using your pinky and ring finger again."Tim supposes that's good news, but it's not like he can type with seven fingers, not when the three missing ones are the ones he does the most with. But still, that's a little bit more of himself he's getting back. Another inch closer to getting his body back.He'd be happier about that inch if the finish line wasn't ten miles off. But, if an inch is what he's got, an inch he'll take."Only four?" Tim's hobbled his way down to Autopsy to go visit Jimmy and talk about his pain medication.He's sitting on Jimmy's chair while Dr. Allan hovers about in the background shuffling something, trying to look like he's not listening.Jimmy's leaning over his desk, next to Tim, initialing papers while talking to him. "1000 mg a day. 500 for the first shot, and either 500 twelve hours later, or one 250 at twelve and eighteen. Take your pick. Or stop being a twit about it and take the damn Tylenol 3."Tim's looking up at Jimmy, how tempted he is to get a pain killer that's not fighting out of its weight class clear on his face. He sighs. "I want to start really working again."Jimmy pats his good shoulder, sympathetic, but his voice has an edge to it. "Then you're going to hurt. I'm not letting you screw your stomach or stroke out because you're too stubborn to take a narcotic."Jimmy can see Tim's got frustrated all over his face."It's not a race, Tim. Take the pain meds. The better you feel, the more you'll move, the more you move the faster you'll heal, faster you heal, the less medication you'll need in the long run."That gets an eye roll, but one that's resigned to the fact that Jimmy does know what he's talking about. "I am so bored!""Sorry.""I'm done my email backlog. I've got all the requisitions done. All I'm doing in there is sitting on my ass collecting dust.""You've got that much free time?" Jimmy can't believe that."How long would it take you to get done with your housekeeping if you didn't do anything but it?"Jimmy inclines his head, especially with the automated paperwork taking most of the housekeeping off his plate, that's a good point. "Go home, write, do something useful. Get the welcome packet ready for… Brand right?""Brand does start Monday. Which I'm looking forward to. But, I've already got the welcome packet done, and all the stuff she's got to fill out is on her desk, already." It'd taken him a lot longer than he'd like to admit, but he was bored enough to go down (up, eventually he'll get his mental compass used to the basement instead of the third floor) to HR, and pick up all of the forms (fortunately there were enough of them he could tuck them between the cast and his side, and they didn't slip out) and then hobble back to her desk and set her up."Good God, you are bored, aren't you?"Tim nods. "I can't go home because I can't drive, and Gibbs dropped me off here and headed to the house after, so I'm here until Abby takes me home. Can't write here because I can't type, and I'm not about to be saying that story out loud in my office.""You've got a door.""Yeah, but they come in, and I'm not getting caught saying…" Which is when Tim notices that Dr. Allan isn't even pretending to mess around with whatever it is in the back of Autopsy and is just happily leaning against one of the tables, listening away to the two of them. Allan doesn't need to know precisely what he's writing these days, so Tim edits mid-sentence. "It's NSFW and that's that. I don't want my guys messing with stuff like that here, so I'm not, too.""So, you're saying the next bits are interesting?" Jimmy looks intrigued. He's heard second-hand that Tim's written some chapters of the book that Abby really liked."Uh… Yeah.""Breena and Gibbs and I still in it?"Tim may be blushing at this point. He's written some non-smutty bits, but not a lot of them, and yes, Breena's in some of the smutty bits, and Jimmy's (sort of) in a few, but no Gibbs, and with the way Jimmy said that last bit, it sounds like all three of them may be in theinteresting bits, and he really doesn't want Allan whispering that around work, so he modifies his answer some. "Mostly writing stuff with Abby and I. Not so much with you guys, yet. Outlining stuff with you in it, but no real writing."Allan definitely looks intrigued by this, and Tim's wondering if Jimmy's cool with him knowing about it, or, if, given that Jimmy's back is to Allan, he just doesn't know that Allan's listening in. Tim glances, meaningfully, toward Allan, and Jimmy's eyes follow his, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact Allan's just hovering around back there."Well, write some boring parts that the Minions won't mind if they walk into. Gotta do set design and stuff like that, right?"Tim nods. He's bad at setting. Not describing it, he's good at describing a setting, but the reason why all of his books to date happen in the real world with real people is that making things up whole cloth isn't his strong suit.But he's got an internet connection, two hours to kill, and an idea of the vibe of the place, he can kill two hours on research.He stands up slowly and takes a step, wincing, not reaching for his crutch. Jimmy just about leaps to his side, getting a hand under his good arm, steadying him. "What are you doing?""Doc says I can take a few steps without the crutch.""Not in here you aren't! Not like this. There's nothing on your good side for you to grab onto if you wobble, and the floors in here are linoleum over concrete. You fall here, and it'll hurt." Jimmy grabs Tim's crutch and hands it to him. "The idea is to heal, not injure yourself even more by doing too much, too fast, stupidly. Breena and I are coming over to dinner tonight." Once again, Shabbos is at their house, though with the way he's healing up and hopefully walking more soon, and maybe, if things are really looking up, able to walk up steps, this is probably the last week at their place. "When we get there, we'll redo your PT plans, okay.""Fine." Tim takes two steps. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"Jimmy nods. "Take the Tylenol 3, even if you don't want it in your system when you're at work, take it so we can work on your PT and you can sleep easier."Tim sighs. "Okay. When I get home.""Good. See you tonight.""Thanks, Jimmy." And Tim slowly makes his way out.When he sees the elevators close, Jimmy turns to Dr. Allan. "Enjoying that?"Allan inclines his head to indicate, yes. He is finding the dynamics and relationships of his new job interesting. "I thought we aren't supposed to treat our family and friends."Jimmy shrugs. "We're not. He's got a real PT he's seeing, and I'm not handling any of the real work. Mostly I'm… I don't know, keeping him pointed in the right direction and trying to save him from being stupid."Allan looks amused by that. "Full time job?""Not usually. You know how it is, healing is long and frustrating, and it's easy to want to take short cuts."Allan nods at that, and Jimmy wonders if he knows about it from a physical level or just the emotional one. "He writes books?"Jimmy nods."Like real books, ones I could go out and buy?"Jimmy nods at that, too."And you're in them?"Jimmy can see that Allan finds that idea uncomfortable. "When he's writing, he's Thom E. Gemcity. The last of his current series comes out in November. They're mysteries based on us.""Last?""He's starting on a new… not sure if it's a one shot or series. I don't think he does, either."Allan thinks about that for a moment. "Is it odd, Dr. Palmer, to see yourself through his eyes? I mean, that's how the books work, right?"Jimmy's never thought about it that way, and he's suddenly thinking about going back and reading The Traitor Within, where Pimmy Jalmer dies and James Relamp shows up. He does know, though that level of it never hit him, that he likes Relamp a whole hell of a lot better, because Jalmer was this cross between awkward, goofy, and creepy that set his teeth on edge.Which also gets him thinking if that's how, back then, he looked to other people, too. In which case the whole 'Autopsy Gremlin' nickname makes a hell of a lot more sense.He also knows that Relamp is the version of him that Tim saw after they got to know each other, and that Relamp reflects a version of himself that he likes. The image he wants to see in the mirror. He wonders if Daegan M'Gy will be someone he likes even better.Allan's still waiting for him to say something, so Jimmy pulls his thoughts together and says, "Everyone you ever meet will see you somehow, and even with your dearest loves, you'll never really know what it is they see. With Tim, you know. If you read the books, you'll see, especially the first one, all of the characters besides Amy and Cathy." Tommy's partner who had been killed, off screen. The series starts up with the hunt for her killer and a new member of the team, Lisa, joining up. "Are mean and rough." Jimmy smiles a bit. "A whole bunch of jerks who sort of all tolerate each other. That gets a lot better over the series, the characters get backstories: they learn how to deal with each other. That's fifty-fifty us getting better with each other, and they're stories, so he can't just dump it all in at once. But if you read all of them, you'll see us go from a bunch of jerks who sort of tolerate each other into a family."Allan's looking interested, like he might actually read those books.Jimmy sighs, there's a downside to reading those books. "Just, if you do read them… Nothing, and I mean nothing that Pimmy Jalmer does ever actually happened in real life."Allan looks disturbed. "How bad is it?"Jimmy shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "I don't care what he and Breena say about it being a dream and symbolism, I'm a freakingsaint for putting up with him."Penny Langston is used to waiting for the other shoe to drop. She spent a good third of her married life with her husband actively fighting, waiting for the sound of footsteps on her front porch. For four months, her husband and two oldest sons were in Vietnam. For the years that followed, at any given time at least one of her men were in active danger, somewhere.So she's used to that faint nagging pull of fear.Which does not mean she likes it.She's feeling it for John right now, very strongly. And for everything else that's going on with him, for all the pain and horror and anguish of the quagmire of shit, she still doesn't want him murdered, but for all Tim said about not going after him, she is not stupid, and she is not unaware, and she is not bad at reading people.Something very bad is going to happen to John, and the only hope she has for it is that Tony or Ziva or that other Agent will find something he did and get him in jail before Jethro or Tim kills him.The worst part of waiting is that she's still part of this family. She's with these people every few days. Right now, she's at the house, spending hours with Ducky and Jethro.On the surface, everything is calm. They're wrapping up the stone facing on the bottom three feet of the house, getting all the masonry looking nice, filling in the tiny bits, stuff like that. They're talking, working together, but the tension is there.She can feel Jethro's anger, because she feels it, too. Every time she sees Tim she wants to rage, wants to scream at that idiot child of hers for doing this, wants to hit him, hard, wants to make him hurt and make him grieve. She just, unlike the rest, doesn't want him dead. She wants him broken, repentant. She wants him to have the full on Come-to-Jesus-epiphany, wants all of the anger and pride and rigid identity to shatter and... On one level, even if it happens it doesn't matter; she knows there's no shot of John ever coming to terms with the rest of the family. She knows he will never be welcome in any place that is Tim's home, which means here, or the home she shares with Ducky, let alone his own home, or Jethro's, but she can hope, at least, or dream maybe, of a day where they might at least talk on the phone again, or maybe, if he ever really got it, have a cup of coffee face to face again.She places another tiny bit of stone, covering a few inches of wall, shaking her head. It's not going to happen. She misses his voice. It feels stupid, but she wants a few more words, real, spoken words, not invective screamed at each other.But she can't get them, because for all she hopes, and for all the dreams, she knows John isn't going to change.Which means waiting, tense, to see how the other shoe falls, dreading how bad it will hurt.There are, hopefully, distractions from this. Something that gets their mind off of it, and gets them working, together, on something good, something useful and healing."Next Friday, I've been invited to join a meeting of people who feel that current immigration laws are problematic," she says as they break for lunch.Gibbs looks startled for a second and then nods. "Been so long since I thought about that, I almost forgot it."Ducky unpacks the lunch box he brought. "We have been a bit distracted of late." He, too, thinks getting them working on something other than John is a good plan, if for no other reason than his continued domestic harmony. Living with a woman who is, rightfully, tense and jumpy is not fun. Not that he doesn't understand and sympathize, but, it is his experience that any emotional difficulty goes better with long, hard work on a worthy cause. At least, that's how they've always dealt with problems in the past."Problematic how?" Gibbs asks, taking a sandwich from Ducky, and opening the cooler of cold drinks, handing the first of the icy Gatorades to Penny."Thank you, Jethro." July on the Potomac. It's got to be close to 95 degrees, and even with boat loads of water and working on the shady parts of the house, they are hot. "Specifically, they want to talk about people in need of asylum and how to get it for them.""Interesting?" Gibbs isn't sure if she's being vague to be vague, or if that's all she's got on this.Penny inclines her head a bit, indicating that she also doesn't know if they're going to be talking about a specific person in need of help, or if this is a political meeting about lobbying for change on the rules for asylum seekers. "No promises or anything, but… Maybe it's time to get that boat ready to hit the water.""Just got to stick a name on her, and she's ready to go.""Then pick a name, Jethro. If there's something for us to do, I want us to be ready."He smiles at her, but she doesn't smile back. "Whenever you need to go, I'll be ready."Abbi didn't make it to Shabbos that week, which actually suits Jethro just fine. It's not that he doesn't want her there, he does. He's hit the point where seeing her is the highlight of his week, and he feels a little boost in his mood when her number pops up on his phone.But, there's something that he wants to toss open to the family, but doesn't necessarily want to talk to her about.So, today's the day."We're working on the house tomorrow." They all nod at that. Another bright and sunny Saturday means working on the house. "And Jimmy's going to help me get the boat into the boathouse." That's the first Jimmy's heard of that, but it's good cover for another week of sniper practice. It's been raining a lot so he hasn't gotten much practice in beyond working on taking the rifle apart and putting it back together. Which he can now do with the rifle in its silk bag. He doesn't need to see, or directly touch it, anymore. Supposedly that's progress."You all know she was supposed to be Shannon," Gibbs says. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, but they all know about this, and he might as well just get it out and say it, rather than pretend he doesn't hear them gossiping about it later. "But… like Jimmy said, she can't be Shannon if I've got a future beyond living in the past. Can't be Shannon if I'm hoping on taking Abbi out there. So, I need a name for her, and I don't have one. I'd like it if you'd all think about names.""Do you have any themes? Ideas for what the name should focus on?" Ziva asks. "Or should it just sound nice?""Hope. The future. Better days ahead, hard days behind.""I like Better Days," Abby says. "Or does it have to be a girl's name?""Hope's a girl's name," Tony adds."It doesn't have to be a girl's name, and I like the idea of 'Hope' but I'm not christening her that. Want something more… I don't know. Something."Penny puts her wine glass down, and looks at Jethro, "I like Better Days, too. It's light, relaxed, like a boat ride's supposed to be."Tim says something under his breath to that, which may have been, "Or it's the Bataan Death March," but he's quiet enough no one hears him."Eos, the dawn of a new day. Elpis, the personification of hope. Antevorta is the goddess of the future. Amphitrite was the consort of Neptune and the goddess of the sea. There's also-""Duck, it'd help if I could spell them.""Does it have to have a name?" Breena asks.Gibbs nods. "Yes. Can't register it without one, and I can't take it out of the boathouse and onto the water until I've got it registered.""Hoping to get sailing soon?" Jimmy asks, thinking that might end up being part of their training exercises. They're less than three hours from international waters, so load up, grab some targets, and it wouldn't take long before they were not only nowhere near anyone else, but outside the reach of US law enforcement."Yeah. Not sure when exactly, but when the weather breaks, and it starts to cool down again, I'd like to get out. Nothing like fall sunset and night on the ocean." And, while that may not have been something he was planning a minute ago, he is now, because that's true, there really isn't anything like a warm day and cool night, out on a calm ocean, billions of stars overhead, water lapping gently at the hull below.Penny's smiling (something they've seen all too little of lately) and nodding at that. "Nothing else like that, at all.""We'll have to do that. You and I, some fall night." Part of this is cover for whatever they may be doing in the days ahead, part of it is a genuine invitation to spend time together, both of them doing something they love."Certainly."Jimmy and Breena and the girls stay late after dinner."Well…" Jimmy says, staring at Tim. They're downstairs right now, while Abby and Breena handle tubby time."Uh, yeah?" Tim says back. He's feeling pretty relaxed and mellow right now. Possibly having something to do with two glasses of wine, a Tylenol 3, and a very good dinner."Lots of stuff to grab, soft, carpeted floor, and sofas all over the place to land on. Up you get.""Now?"Jimmy wiggles his finger, a gesture that means up. "Get your ass up. You decided you wanted me as a physical therapist, well, guess what?"Tim sighs. "Great. You were a drill sergeant in a past life, weren't you?"Jimmy giggles a bit at that idea, and so does Tim. After a second, Jimmy gets serious again. "Quit yapping and get to it."Tim scoots himself to the edge of his seat, and stands up. It's hard and it really hurts. He's biting his lip and has his eyes closed. He can feel each break in his foot, and there is way more play than he likes in his knee and ankle, but, for the first time in weeks, he is standing on his own feet, without any help.For about three seconds, and then down he goes again. Jimmy shifts a bit, gets a hand behind him, so he doesn't hit the sofa at full speed, but hit it he does, cursing with relief."Okay, that's good. How bad does it hurt?""Bad enough I'm considering the exercises you're making me do for my ankle mild discomfort. And given how much pain medication I'm on…"Jimmy smirks at that. "I'll call that a five on the one to ten scale."Tim nods a bit. "Only because it's fast. I can feel everything when I do that. Breaks, dislocations. I stand on it and everything screams."Jimmy nods, sitting in front of Tim, carefully palpating his foot.Tim jerks his foot away. "That hurts!""Yeah, I know." Jimmy grabs his foot again, continuing his examination, a bit more gently this time. "Trying to see how messed up the soft tissue is. The thing about broken bones is they're not broken or healing in a vacuum. There's all these muscles and tendons and ligaments and nerves and blood vessels around them, and if you're going to have functional limbs you need to make sure they haven't just turned into one big knot of scar tissue.""Great. How's it feel?""Like a foot."Tim flashes him a quit dicking with me look. "Like a foot's supposed to feel?""Yeah, more or less. Everything is going to hurt for a while because you haven't been moving it much, but the more you do, the better it'll get." Jimmy sits back on his heels. "Look, if you can stand the boredom, keep taking the meds. The more you walk, the more you flex, the stronger and more flexible, and the faster everything heals. There's the reason your OB had Abby up and walking around twenty-four hours after the c-section, and that was to make sure the scars healed up strong and flexible. Your Ortho and PT is making you move as much and as quickly as possible for the same reason."Same choice staring him in the face, use his body or use his brain. "I hate this.""I know. But… look, I know you, you'll be off the narcotics by the time we get to any of the real work on your shoulder, so, at least now, while you can, baby yourself some. There's nothing you're doing down in the basement right now that's worth this pain.""You don't know that.""Please," Now Jimmy's flashing his quick dicking with me look. "You'd have gone cold turkey and dragged me up to Leon to tell him you could work if that was the case."Tim inclines his head a bit; Jimmy's right about that. "What would you have said?""At your size, twenty-four hours off means you're safe to work. Won't necessarily be as sharp as cold sober, but if it's an all-hands-on-deck emergency, you're clear to hack. Especially since you've got that software in so you don't have to try to type.""Thanks.""No problem." They hear a loud splash and giggling from upstairs. "I think Molly just showed Kelly and Anna her latest trick."Tim can hear Abby and Breena corralling babies who are laughing uproariously."What's she doing?""She's figured out how to pull herself up on the arm rail and cannonball off the side of the tub, and she's really fast at it. Little booger waits until you're holding Anna, washing her off, and scoots up there in a flash, next thing you know everyone is soaked."Tim's biting his lip, trying not to laugh."Yeah, just you wait until you're on tubby time again.""Tubby time means I've got two working arms. I cannot wait to do tubby time again."Jimmy smiles at him. "Yeah, I know.""So, I'm guessing I'm supposed to actually go to your house and mess around with your boat?" Jimmy says into his phone. He's in his car, heading to Gibbs' place, figuring that the best way to lie is to actually tell the truth.Gibbs nods and then says, "Yes," because while Jimmy's gotten pretty good at reading his different forms of quiet, it's not exactly easy to do that over the phone."I'll be there in fifteen."It was actually twenty-four minutes later, but, in that he's got cups of coffee, (hot for Gibbs, iced for him) and a collection of cold snacks (high today, 97) he's forgiven for being late."So, what do we do?" This doesn't look terribly difficult to Jimmy, from everything he can see the boat is on the trailer which is attached to the truck, so, to him this looks done, but he's also never done anything like this before."Nothing, right now." Gibbs tosses Jimmy his keys, opens the door, and Mona goes bounding into the cab, excited by another day out and about at the house.Jimmy nods at that, slowly. "Are we doing anything at all with her?""Lot easier to get her in the water with two guys.""All right."They're on the road when Jimmy asks, "So, this is boat number…""Three. Built one after everything went wrong with Diane. Built Kelly. Now this one."Jimmy knows what happened to Kelly, shot full of holes, disassembled by Abby, logged as evidence. It's probably, still in a million pieces, in the deep storage evidence lock up for NCIS. "What happened to Diane's boat?""Finished it a bit after Stephanie and I split, filled it with newspaper and gasoline, lit it, and pushed it into a lake.""You spent years building a boat to set fire to it?"Gibbs looks non-plussed. Jimmy looks amazed. Gibbs shrugs. "It made sense at the time. Pretty fire.""I'd imagine a wood boat filled with flammable materials would be." Another thought hits Jimmy. Gibbs gave Kelly away. "Um… Is this the first one of these you've actually sailed?"Gibbs nods."You do actually know how to sail, right? This isn't something you did once three decades ago, right?"That gets Gibbs' don't be a smartass look aimed at him."Just checking."Five silent miles later Gibbs says, "Everything about Diane burned. How we started, how we ended, all of it. And Stephanie was more fire. By the time that one was done, so was I. Done with them. Done with married. So, out to the lake, a lot of bourbon in me, a lot of gasoline, kindling, and two wedding rings in Diane, and up in smoke they went."I could build Kelly, but I couldn't sail her. Too many memories. Building her was good, giving her away was good, Leyla and Amira and Mike had some great times with her." Gibbs shrugs. "Just like her namesake, I hated how she ended up, but it was out of my hands."Jimmy listens to that, and sighs quietly. "Yeah, you really need a name for her.""Ideas?"Jimmy shrugs. "Don't ask Tim. He's terrible with names."Gibbs rolls his eyes at that. Not that he disagrees, after all he's read most of Tim's books, (he decided not to go find the sexy ones) so he knows that Tim is bad with names. He also wasn't desperate enough to ask Tim for a name.Once she's in the water, bobbing gently against the trailer, a thought hits Jimmy. "Um… Isn't it easier to get the name on her if she's not swaying in the water?"Gibbs nods at that."So… We taking her back out again in a week?"He shakes his head. "I'll put her name on clear vinyl, and then attach that." That's not standard operating procedure for naming a ship, but, if he wants to put a new name and numbers on it quickly and easily, that's the way to go about doing it.Actually, he thinks about that some more. Ducky and Penny have that lawyer on standby, if he were to… build a corporation or a non-profit or whatever the hell they do, that corporation could own a boat. That boat could be registered out of… wherever works best. The fact that that boat would be identical to a boat owned by Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but had a different name, tags, and flag, would just be convenient. He could swap out his tags if he needed to, and because they'd both be legit, he wouldn't have to worry about a deep background check on them.He makes a mental note to mention that to Duck and Penny, and then sighs quietly because now he needs two names."Okay, you unhook her, and I'll sail her into the boat house."So, Jimmy gets to it.Saturday had been a long and full day. Ducky and Penny had spent close to eight hours at the house. Today's job for everyone who isn't Tim: attach the log cabin looking siding to the house. With the whole crew working they got the entire first floor and half of the second floor attached. (Tim continued to work on floor plans. As the only one besides Penny with any engineering background, and unable to do any heavy lifting, he's become the unofficial architect for the house. To say this makes him nervous is an understatement. To say that someone who actually has a degree in architecture is going to look over this plan of his before they start ripping out walls is a fact.)That's a good day's work for eight hours.And so, 'round dinner time, Duck and Penny head home to a quiet night of take out, hot showers to sooth sore joints and muscles, ice packs to cut down on any swelling and inflammation that may arise as the result of said day of hard work, followed by a lazy night of reading and talking.That's how most of the night went, pleasant, warm, and comfortable. In that Penny isn't crying or, from the looks of it, wrecked by anger and guilt, this is one of the best nights they've had in weeks. As they settle into bed, light sheet and blanket draped over them, Penny, who had for the last few weeks turned her back toward Ducky, a sign of a need for comfort, snuggling, and sleep, tonight reached for him, facing him, a sign of desired kisses, it turned into a very good night, indeed.While it's true that anyone who knows Ducky knows that he likes to hear himself talk, it's also true that there is a select group of ladies who are familiar with the fact that, properly relaxed, and in a splendid post-coital mood, that he can wax poetic and often goofy toward his companion, and in that tonight was the first time in weeks that he's been in such a mood, he is feeling especially effusive."I have always felt there was a special melody to the name Penelope," his soft Scottish burr caresses the syllables of Penny's name as his hand slips over her arm that's resting across his chest. By this point, she's well-used to his post-sex chatter and finds it soothing and relaxing. "Donald, of course, is frank and boring, no music at all, but Penelope, beautiful sounds flowing one after the other.""Mmm." Penny's never been very impressed by her name. It's just a name to her."Rhymes with Calliope, muse of epic poetry, which is fitting I suppose, in that Penelope is the leading lady of an epic poem."Penny exhales, slow and deep, drifting, her lips pressed to Ducky's shoulder. "Uh huh." She knows all about Penelope from the Odyssey. Long ago, before feminism, before learning to stand on her own, she was a child bride with a husband often away for long stretches of time. "Penelope is faithful," she wore that on her heart and kept it close as a mantra. If that Penelope could wait twenty years, running her husband's home, keeping gold-digging suitors at bay while raising her son, she could handle six months or a year.And she did, but they were long months and longer years.Ducky's thinking along a similar line, remembering reading the Odyssey years ago, and two words, inspired by his beloved's name and the hunt for another name spring to mind, "Semper Fidelus."That wakes Penny up a bit, those aren't words she's expecting. "Mmm? Semper Fi?"Ducky kisses her forehead. "Jethro's boat. The hunt for a fitting name, something that captures what that boat was supposed to be about, a testament to his loves, and to who he is and who he hopes to be, faithful to his need to protect people."Penny thinks about that. "Shannon and Kelly are not forgotten, but not the bedrock of his life anymore, shifting his passion and focus to what comes ahead, and promise of his faith to that, plus all of his Marine life wrapped up in it." She's smiling at that. "I think it works."By Sunday, Abby's got a new morning routine. Wake up, feel like crap, grab Zofran, take Zofran, stay very, very, VERY still for about ten minutes, tentatively sit up, nibble a few saltines, sip some lukewarm ginger ale, and, by then, she's not exactly feeling spiffy, but she's good enough to face the day.Usually, by noon her hormones figure out what they're doing, and she's feeling better.Thus, she is, according to a not very scientific survey of Breena and Penny, the only woman in existence to ever have morning sickness only in the morning.By Sunday, Tim also has a new morning routine. He wakes up, grumbles a bit, grabs his pain medication, dry swallows it, sits himself up and starts on his range of motion exercises. He pretty much has to start with them, because apparently his body is under the impression that all of his injured areas should fuse tight while he sleeps, and if he doesn't start out stretching, he's pretty much not going to be moving anytime soon.Abby's still mid-stay very still and he's very tentatively starting on his torso twists (which Jimmy said he could start today) when he says, "Remember how we used to wake up? All snuggled together, maybe a little sex, warm and comfy?""Yeah.""Then we did some yoga, grabbed Kelly, and got on with the morning." Yoga in the sense of quiet, meditative time together more or less died when Kelly was born. However, they did usually manage to get ten or so minutes of stretching out, and then one of them would grab her and take care of her morning routine and breakfast for them while the other one finished working out and got a shower. Next day, they'd swap. Little hectic and crowded, but it was getting the job done.And now it's not. Abby's sleeping every second she can, and Tim's just getting to the point where he can do a few, very basic, seated poses and hip openers. He's mostly doing his breathing, then working on stretching out his calf and shoulder a bit, today he's adding in the twists for his ribs, and if all goes well, he'll eventually stand up and take a few steps."Yep." Abby reaches for a saltine and sits up."That's my anniversary goal. October 23, 2016, four years after our second first date, we're starting the day wrapped in each other, feeling good, making love."Abby smiles at that. "End the day that way, too.""I really hope so!"Sunday was another bright and sunny day, which meant another day at the house, and by the end of it, when the rest of the family had headed off to their own homes, Ducky asks to see the boat."Sure, Duck." Jethro'd done the grand tour yesterday, but he's fine with showing her off again.The three of them head to the boat house, and for a moment stand there, watching her bob slightly with the gentle rise and fall of the water."I think I may have stumbled upon a name for her."Jethro looks pleased at that and his face is telling Ducky to say more."Semper Fidelus."Gibbs smiles at that. He can see the angles on that, and he also deeply approves of a name that is welcoming to Abbi as well as summing up what this boat meant and means to him.Penny rests her hand on Semper's bow, "She's a symbol of faithfulness, to the past, to the future, a commitment to doing the right thing."Gibbs nods. "I'll get to work on it. Now all we need is another one." This time Penny and Ducky are staring at him in confusion, but the minute or two in which he explains what he's looking for in the way of two registries has them both nodding in concert. "Come on up and in."He gives Penny a hand up, and Ducky as well, though both of them are capable of climbing in themselves. Below decks he has several storage areas, and, towards the bow, built in above a small desk area, is a small, letter-box looking drawer that he taps. "This one's for carrying her papers. Every boat has one, where you put your charts, your registration, whatever other information you need." He opens it, and it's about five inches deep. "I'm thinking I can modify this, put two shelves in and a lock. Turn the key half-way, and only the bottom shelf opens, turn the key the whole way and the top shelf will open, giving you the second one. Keep whichever set I'm supposed to show in the bottom one, and the second set in the top, only pull them out in an emergency." He takes one step over to the bunks. The top bunk is small, a good size for a child, but an adult won't fit up there. He gently taps the wooden planks that support the top bunk. "Hollow one or two of these out, and I can carry the alternative registration and name in here. Things get hairy, I can swap names and regs in less than five minutes. As long as I've got a bit of heads up, I can sail right past whoever's looking for one ship by carrying the marks of the other. Name her Semper Fidelus and fly the Marine flag as well as the US one and no one'll look twice at her, unless they're actively tipped off."Ducky and Penny look impressed by that."So, tomorrow, I'll get her registered. You guys see about getting the second registration up, and… come Friday…"Ducky feels a rush of anticipation. He knows that most likely all Friday will accomplish is introductions to another set of people who may, or may not, get them one step closer to the active part of their plan, still there is the thrill of the grand conspiracy moving forward and he's enjoying it."Come Friday," Ducky says."Friday," Penny finishes.
Next
408: Faithful
More doctors' appointments, must be Friday."It's looking good, Tim. Your tarsals are coming along nicely. The vibrational heads have gotten them healed up a lot faster than expected. You're going home cast-free on your foot, which means you can start, gingerly, putting some weight on that foot.""I can stop using the crutch?" Tim asks.Dr. Kent nods, but not enthusiastically. "For about two steps at a time. You can start working on putting some weight on your foot, but not all the time. We're going to stay with the braces for now, bones heal a lot faster than the ligaments and tendons that ripped when your ankle dislocated, but no more casts. Time to work on just getting everything moving again."Tim exhales, happy to hear it. "How about?" He touches his right arm.Kent shakes his head. "Nothing new for that today. Next Friday we'll rescan, see how your shoulder is doing. At the very least, we'll size down some-" That annoys Tim. Yes, he's not moving his arm at all, so he's losing muscle mass, but he doesn't want to be. "And if it looks like your shoulder joint is solid, we'll see about moving you down to a cast for your wrist and hand. So, with any luck, another week and you get to start working on shoulder and elbow range of motion again." Kent checks his notes. "Actually, no matter what, next cast you get to start using your pinky and ring finger again."Tim supposes that's good news, but it's not like he can type with seven fingers, not when the three missing ones are the ones he does the most with. But still, that's a little bit more of himself he's getting back. Another inch closer to getting his body back.He'd be happier about that inch if the finish line wasn't ten miles off. But, if an inch is what he's got, an inch he'll take."Only four?" Tim's hobbled his way down to Autopsy to go visit Jimmy and talk about his pain medication.He's sitting on Jimmy's chair while Dr. Allan hovers about in the background shuffling something, trying to look like he's not listening.Jimmy's leaning over his desk, next to Tim, initialing papers while talking to him. "1000 mg a day. 500 for the first shot, and either 500 twelve hours later, or one 250 at twelve and eighteen. Take your pick. Or stop being a twit about it and take the damn Tylenol 3."Tim's looking up at Jimmy, how tempted he is to get a pain killer that's not fighting out of its weight class clear on his face. He sighs. "I want to start really working again."Jimmy pats his good shoulder, sympathetic, but his voice has an edge to it. "Then you're going to hurt. I'm not letting you screw your stomach or stroke out because you're too stubborn to take a narcotic."Jimmy can see Tim's got frustrated all over his face."It's not a race, Tim. Take the pain meds. The better you feel, the more you'll move, the more you move the faster you'll heal, faster you heal, the less medication you'll need in the long run."That gets an eye roll, but one that's resigned to the fact that Jimmy does know what he's talking about. "I am so bored!""Sorry.""I'm done my email backlog. I've got all the requisitions done. All I'm doing in there is sitting on my ass collecting dust.""You've got that much free time?" Jimmy can't believe that."How long would it take you to get done with your housekeeping if you didn't do anything but it?"Jimmy inclines his head, especially with the automated paperwork taking most of the housekeeping off his plate, that's a good point. "Go home, write, do something useful. Get the welcome packet ready for… Brand right?""Brand does start Monday. Which I'm looking forward to. But, I've already got the welcome packet done, and all the stuff she's got to fill out is on her desk, already." It'd taken him a lot longer than he'd like to admit, but he was bored enough to go down (up, eventually he'll get his mental compass used to the basement instead of the third floor) to HR, and pick up all of the forms (fortunately there were enough of them he could tuck them between the cast and his side, and they didn't slip out) and then hobble back to her desk and set her up."Good God, you are bored, aren't you?"Tim nods. "I can't go home because I can't drive, and Gibbs dropped me off here and headed to the house after, so I'm here until Abby takes me home. Can't write here because I can't type, and I'm not about to be saying that story out loud in my office.""You've got a door.""Yeah, but they come in, and I'm not getting caught saying…" Which is when Tim notices that Dr. Allan isn't even pretending to mess around with whatever it is in the back of Autopsy and is just happily leaning against one of the tables, listening away to the two of them. Allan doesn't need to know precisely what he's writing these days, so Tim edits mid-sentence. "It's NSFW and that's that. I don't want my guys messing with stuff like that here, so I'm not, too.""So, you're saying the next bits are interesting?" Jimmy looks intrigued. He's heard second-hand that Tim's written some chapters of the book that Abby really liked."Uh… Yeah.""Breena and Gibbs and I still in it?"Tim may be blushing at this point. He's written some non-smutty bits, but not a lot of them, and yes, Breena's in some of the smutty bits, and Jimmy's (sort of) in a few, but no Gibbs, and with the way Jimmy said that last bit, it sounds like all three of them may be in theinteresting bits, and he really doesn't want Allan whispering that around work, so he modifies his answer some. "Mostly writing stuff with Abby and I. Not so much with you guys, yet. Outlining stuff with you in it, but no real writing."Allan definitely looks intrigued by this, and Tim's wondering if Jimmy's cool with him knowing about it, or, if, given that Jimmy's back is to Allan, he just doesn't know that Allan's listening in. Tim glances, meaningfully, toward Allan, and Jimmy's eyes follow his, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact Allan's just hovering around back there."Well, write some boring parts that the Minions won't mind if they walk into. Gotta do set design and stuff like that, right?"Tim nods. He's bad at setting. Not describing it, he's good at describing a setting, but the reason why all of his books to date happen in the real world with real people is that making things up whole cloth isn't his strong suit.But he's got an internet connection, two hours to kill, and an idea of the vibe of the place, he can kill two hours on research.He stands up slowly and takes a step, wincing, not reaching for his crutch. Jimmy just about leaps to his side, getting a hand under his good arm, steadying him. "What are you doing?""Doc says I can take a few steps without the crutch.""Not in here you aren't! Not like this. There's nothing on your good side for you to grab onto if you wobble, and the floors in here are linoleum over concrete. You fall here, and it'll hurt." Jimmy grabs Tim's crutch and hands it to him. "The idea is to heal, not injure yourself even more by doing too much, too fast, stupidly. Breena and I are coming over to dinner tonight." Once again, Shabbos is at their house, though with the way he's healing up and hopefully walking more soon, and maybe, if things are really looking up, able to walk up steps, this is probably the last week at their place. "When we get there, we'll redo your PT plans, okay.""Fine." Tim takes two steps. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"Jimmy nods. "Take the Tylenol 3, even if you don't want it in your system when you're at work, take it so we can work on your PT and you can sleep easier."Tim sighs. "Okay. When I get home.""Good. See you tonight.""Thanks, Jimmy." And Tim slowly makes his way out.When he sees the elevators close, Jimmy turns to Dr. Allan. "Enjoying that?"Allan inclines his head to indicate, yes. He is finding the dynamics and relationships of his new job interesting. "I thought we aren't supposed to treat our family and friends."Jimmy shrugs. "We're not. He's got a real PT he's seeing, and I'm not handling any of the real work. Mostly I'm… I don't know, keeping him pointed in the right direction and trying to save him from being stupid."Allan looks amused by that. "Full time job?""Not usually. You know how it is, healing is long and frustrating, and it's easy to want to take short cuts."Allan nods at that, and Jimmy wonders if he knows about it from a physical level or just the emotional one. "He writes books?"Jimmy nods."Like real books, ones I could go out and buy?"Jimmy nods at that, too."And you're in them?"Jimmy can see that Allan finds that idea uncomfortable. "When he's writing, he's Thom E. Gemcity. The last of his current series comes out in November. They're mysteries based on us.""Last?""He's starting on a new… not sure if it's a one shot or series. I don't think he does, either."Allan thinks about that for a moment. "Is it odd, Dr. Palmer, to see yourself through his eyes? I mean, that's how the books work, right?"Jimmy's never thought about it that way, and he's suddenly thinking about going back and reading The Traitor Within, where Pimmy Jalmer dies and James Relamp shows up. He does know, though that level of it never hit him, that he likes Relamp a whole hell of a lot better, because Jalmer was this cross between awkward, goofy, and creepy that set his teeth on edge.Which also gets him thinking if that's how, back then, he looked to other people, too. In which case the whole 'Autopsy Gremlin' nickname makes a hell of a lot more sense.He also knows that Relamp is the version of him that Tim saw after they got to know each other, and that Relamp reflects a version of himself that he likes. The image he wants to see in the mirror. He wonders if Daegan M'Gy will be someone he likes even better.Allan's still waiting for him to say something, so Jimmy pulls his thoughts together and says, "Everyone you ever meet will see you somehow, and even with your dearest loves, you'll never really know what it is they see. With Tim, you know. If you read the books, you'll see, especially the first one, all of the characters besides Amy and Cathy." Tommy's partner who had been killed, off screen. The series starts up with the hunt for her killer and a new member of the team, Lisa, joining up. "Are mean and rough." Jimmy smiles a bit. "A whole bunch of jerks who sort of all tolerate each other. That gets a lot better over the series, the characters get backstories: they learn how to deal with each other. That's fifty-fifty us getting better with each other, and they're stories, so he can't just dump it all in at once. But if you read all of them, you'll see us go from a bunch of jerks who sort of tolerate each other into a family."Allan's looking interested, like he might actually read those books.Jimmy sighs, there's a downside to reading those books. "Just, if you do read them… Nothing, and I mean nothing that Pimmy Jalmer does ever actually happened in real life."Allan looks disturbed. "How bad is it?"Jimmy shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "I don't care what he and Breena say about it being a dream and symbolism, I'm a freakingsaint for putting up with him."Penny Langston is used to waiting for the other shoe to drop. She spent a good third of her married life with her husband actively fighting, waiting for the sound of footsteps on her front porch. For four months, her husband and two oldest sons were in Vietnam. For the years that followed, at any given time at least one of her men were in active danger, somewhere.So she's used to that faint nagging pull of fear.Which does not mean she likes it.She's feeling it for John right now, very strongly. And for everything else that's going on with him, for all the pain and horror and anguish of the quagmire of shit, she still doesn't want him murdered, but for all Tim said about not going after him, she is not stupid, and she is not unaware, and she is not bad at reading people.Something very bad is going to happen to John, and the only hope she has for it is that Tony or Ziva or that other Agent will find something he did and get him in jail before Jethro or Tim kills him.The worst part of waiting is that she's still part of this family. She's with these people every few days. Right now, she's at the house, spending hours with Ducky and Jethro.On the surface, everything is calm. They're wrapping up the stone facing on the bottom three feet of the house, getting all the masonry looking nice, filling in the tiny bits, stuff like that. They're talking, working together, but the tension is there.She can feel Jethro's anger, because she feels it, too. Every time she sees Tim she wants to rage, wants to scream at that idiot child of hers for doing this, wants to hit him, hard, wants to make him hurt and make him grieve. She just, unlike the rest, doesn't want him dead. She wants him broken, repentant. She wants him to have the full on Come-to-Jesus-epiphany, wants all of the anger and pride and rigid identity to shatter and... On one level, even if it happens it doesn't matter; she knows there's no shot of John ever coming to terms with the rest of the family. She knows he will never be welcome in any place that is Tim's home, which means here, or the home she shares with Ducky, let alone his own home, or Jethro's, but she can hope, at least, or dream maybe, of a day where they might at least talk on the phone again, or maybe, if he ever really got it, have a cup of coffee face to face again.She places another tiny bit of stone, covering a few inches of wall, shaking her head. It's not going to happen. She misses his voice. It feels stupid, but she wants a few more words, real, spoken words, not invective screamed at each other.But she can't get them, because for all she hopes, and for all the dreams, she knows John isn't going to change.Which means waiting, tense, to see how the other shoe falls, dreading how bad it will hurt.There are, hopefully, distractions from this. Something that gets their mind off of it, and gets them working, together, on something good, something useful and healing."Next Friday, I've been invited to join a meeting of people who feel that current immigration laws are problematic," she says as they break for lunch.Gibbs looks startled for a second and then nods. "Been so long since I thought about that, I almost forgot it."Ducky unpacks the lunch box he brought. "We have been a bit distracted of late." He, too, thinks getting them working on something other than John is a good plan, if for no other reason than his continued domestic harmony. Living with a woman who is, rightfully, tense and jumpy is not fun. Not that he doesn't understand and sympathize, but, it is his experience that any emotional difficulty goes better with long, hard work on a worthy cause. At least, that's how they've always dealt with problems in the past."Problematic how?" Gibbs asks, taking a sandwich from Ducky, and opening the cooler of cold drinks, handing the first of the icy Gatorades to Penny."Thank you, Jethro." July on the Potomac. It's got to be close to 95 degrees, and even with boat loads of water and working on the shady parts of the house, they are hot. "Specifically, they want to talk about people in need of asylum and how to get it for them.""Interesting?" Gibbs isn't sure if she's being vague to be vague, or if that's all she's got on this.Penny inclines her head a bit, indicating that she also doesn't know if they're going to be talking about a specific person in need of help, or if this is a political meeting about lobbying for change on the rules for asylum seekers. "No promises or anything, but… Maybe it's time to get that boat ready to hit the water.""Just got to stick a name on her, and she's ready to go.""Then pick a name, Jethro. If there's something for us to do, I want us to be ready."He smiles at her, but she doesn't smile back. "Whenever you need to go, I'll be ready."Abbi didn't make it to Shabbos that week, which actually suits Jethro just fine. It's not that he doesn't want her there, he does. He's hit the point where seeing her is the highlight of his week, and he feels a little boost in his mood when her number pops up on his phone.But, there's something that he wants to toss open to the family, but doesn't necessarily want to talk to her about.So, today's the day."We're working on the house tomorrow." They all nod at that. Another bright and sunny Saturday means working on the house. "And Jimmy's going to help me get the boat into the boathouse." That's the first Jimmy's heard of that, but it's good cover for another week of sniper practice. It's been raining a lot so he hasn't gotten much practice in beyond working on taking the rifle apart and putting it back together. Which he can now do with the rifle in its silk bag. He doesn't need to see, or directly touch it, anymore. Supposedly that's progress."You all know she was supposed to be Shannon," Gibbs says. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, but they all know about this, and he might as well just get it out and say it, rather than pretend he doesn't hear them gossiping about it later. "But… like Jimmy said, she can't be Shannon if I've got a future beyond living in the past. Can't be Shannon if I'm hoping on taking Abbi out there. So, I need a name for her, and I don't have one. I'd like it if you'd all think about names.""Do you have any themes? Ideas for what the name should focus on?" Ziva asks. "Or should it just sound nice?""Hope. The future. Better days ahead, hard days behind.""I like Better Days," Abby says. "Or does it have to be a girl's name?""Hope's a girl's name," Tony adds."It doesn't have to be a girl's name, and I like the idea of 'Hope' but I'm not christening her that. Want something more… I don't know. Something."Penny puts her wine glass down, and looks at Jethro, "I like Better Days, too. It's light, relaxed, like a boat ride's supposed to be."Tim says something under his breath to that, which may have been, "Or it's the Bataan Death March," but he's quiet enough no one hears him."Eos, the dawn of a new day. Elpis, the personification of hope. Antevorta is the goddess of the future. Amphitrite was the consort of Neptune and the goddess of the sea. There's also-""Duck, it'd help if I could spell them.""Does it have to have a name?" Breena asks.Gibbs nods. "Yes. Can't register it without one, and I can't take it out of the boathouse and onto the water until I've got it registered.""Hoping to get sailing soon?" Jimmy asks, thinking that might end up being part of their training exercises. They're less than three hours from international waters, so load up, grab some targets, and it wouldn't take long before they were not only nowhere near anyone else, but outside the reach of US law enforcement."Yeah. Not sure when exactly, but when the weather breaks, and it starts to cool down again, I'd like to get out. Nothing like fall sunset and night on the ocean." And, while that may not have been something he was planning a minute ago, he is now, because that's true, there really isn't anything like a warm day and cool night, out on a calm ocean, billions of stars overhead, water lapping gently at the hull below.Penny's smiling (something they've seen all too little of lately) and nodding at that. "Nothing else like that, at all.""We'll have to do that. You and I, some fall night." Part of this is cover for whatever they may be doing in the days ahead, part of it is a genuine invitation to spend time together, both of them doing something they love."Certainly."Jimmy and Breena and the girls stay late after dinner."Well…" Jimmy says, staring at Tim. They're downstairs right now, while Abby and Breena handle tubby time."Uh, yeah?" Tim says back. He's feeling pretty relaxed and mellow right now. Possibly having something to do with two glasses of wine, a Tylenol 3, and a very good dinner."Lots of stuff to grab, soft, carpeted floor, and sofas all over the place to land on. Up you get.""Now?"Jimmy wiggles his finger, a gesture that means up. "Get your ass up. You decided you wanted me as a physical therapist, well, guess what?"Tim sighs. "Great. You were a drill sergeant in a past life, weren't you?"Jimmy giggles a bit at that idea, and so does Tim. After a second, Jimmy gets serious again. "Quit yapping and get to it."Tim scoots himself to the edge of his seat, and stands up. It's hard and it really hurts. He's biting his lip and has his eyes closed. He can feel each break in his foot, and there is way more play than he likes in his knee and ankle, but, for the first time in weeks, he is standing on his own feet, without any help.For about three seconds, and then down he goes again. Jimmy shifts a bit, gets a hand behind him, so he doesn't hit the sofa at full speed, but hit it he does, cursing with relief."Okay, that's good. How bad does it hurt?""Bad enough I'm considering the exercises you're making me do for my ankle mild discomfort. And given how much pain medication I'm on…"Jimmy smirks at that. "I'll call that a five on the one to ten scale."Tim nods a bit. "Only because it's fast. I can feel everything when I do that. Breaks, dislocations. I stand on it and everything screams."Jimmy nods, sitting in front of Tim, carefully palpating his foot.Tim jerks his foot away. "That hurts!""Yeah, I know." Jimmy grabs his foot again, continuing his examination, a bit more gently this time. "Trying to see how messed up the soft tissue is. The thing about broken bones is they're not broken or healing in a vacuum. There's all these muscles and tendons and ligaments and nerves and blood vessels around them, and if you're going to have functional limbs you need to make sure they haven't just turned into one big knot of scar tissue.""Great. How's it feel?""Like a foot."Tim flashes him a quit dicking with me look. "Like a foot's supposed to feel?""Yeah, more or less. Everything is going to hurt for a while because you haven't been moving it much, but the more you do, the better it'll get." Jimmy sits back on his heels. "Look, if you can stand the boredom, keep taking the meds. The more you walk, the more you flex, the stronger and more flexible, and the faster everything heals. There's the reason your OB had Abby up and walking around twenty-four hours after the c-section, and that was to make sure the scars healed up strong and flexible. Your Ortho and PT is making you move as much and as quickly as possible for the same reason."Same choice staring him in the face, use his body or use his brain. "I hate this.""I know. But… look, I know you, you'll be off the narcotics by the time we get to any of the real work on your shoulder, so, at least now, while you can, baby yourself some. There's nothing you're doing down in the basement right now that's worth this pain.""You don't know that.""Please," Now Jimmy's flashing his quick dicking with me look. "You'd have gone cold turkey and dragged me up to Leon to tell him you could work if that was the case."Tim inclines his head a bit; Jimmy's right about that. "What would you have said?""At your size, twenty-four hours off means you're safe to work. Won't necessarily be as sharp as cold sober, but if it's an all-hands-on-deck emergency, you're clear to hack. Especially since you've got that software in so you don't have to try to type.""Thanks.""No problem." They hear a loud splash and giggling from upstairs. "I think Molly just showed Kelly and Anna her latest trick."Tim can hear Abby and Breena corralling babies who are laughing uproariously."What's she doing?""She's figured out how to pull herself up on the arm rail and cannonball off the side of the tub, and she's really fast at it. Little booger waits until you're holding Anna, washing her off, and scoots up there in a flash, next thing you know everyone is soaked."Tim's biting his lip, trying not to laugh."Yeah, just you wait until you're on tubby time again.""Tubby time means I've got two working arms. I cannot wait to do tubby time again."Jimmy smiles at him. "Yeah, I know.""So, I'm guessing I'm supposed to actually go to your house and mess around with your boat?" Jimmy says into his phone. He's in his car, heading to Gibbs' place, figuring that the best way to lie is to actually tell the truth.Gibbs nods and then says, "Yes," because while Jimmy's gotten pretty good at reading his different forms of quiet, it's not exactly easy to do that over the phone."I'll be there in fifteen."It was actually twenty-four minutes later, but, in that he's got cups of coffee, (hot for Gibbs, iced for him) and a collection of cold snacks (high today, 97) he's forgiven for being late."So, what do we do?" This doesn't look terribly difficult to Jimmy, from everything he can see the boat is on the trailer which is attached to the truck, so, to him this looks done, but he's also never done anything like this before."Nothing, right now." Gibbs tosses Jimmy his keys, opens the door, and Mona goes bounding into the cab, excited by another day out and about at the house.Jimmy nods at that, slowly. "Are we doing anything at all with her?""Lot easier to get her in the water with two guys.""All right."They're on the road when Jimmy asks, "So, this is boat number…""Three. Built one after everything went wrong with Diane. Built Kelly. Now this one."Jimmy knows what happened to Kelly, shot full of holes, disassembled by Abby, logged as evidence. It's probably, still in a million pieces, in the deep storage evidence lock up for NCIS. "What happened to Diane's boat?""Finished it a bit after Stephanie and I split, filled it with newspaper and gasoline, lit it, and pushed it into a lake.""You spent years building a boat to set fire to it?"Gibbs looks non-plussed. Jimmy looks amazed. Gibbs shrugs. "It made sense at the time. Pretty fire.""I'd imagine a wood boat filled with flammable materials would be." Another thought hits Jimmy. Gibbs gave Kelly away. "Um… Is this the first one of these you've actually sailed?"Gibbs nods."You do actually know how to sail, right? This isn't something you did once three decades ago, right?"That gets Gibbs' don't be a smartass look aimed at him."Just checking."Five silent miles later Gibbs says, "Everything about Diane burned. How we started, how we ended, all of it. And Stephanie was more fire. By the time that one was done, so was I. Done with them. Done with married. So, out to the lake, a lot of bourbon in me, a lot of gasoline, kindling, and two wedding rings in Diane, and up in smoke they went."I could build Kelly, but I couldn't sail her. Too many memories. Building her was good, giving her away was good, Leyla and Amira and Mike had some great times with her." Gibbs shrugs. "Just like her namesake, I hated how she ended up, but it was out of my hands."Jimmy listens to that, and sighs quietly. "Yeah, you really need a name for her.""Ideas?"Jimmy shrugs. "Don't ask Tim. He's terrible with names."Gibbs rolls his eyes at that. Not that he disagrees, after all he's read most of Tim's books, (he decided not to go find the sexy ones) so he knows that Tim is bad with names. He also wasn't desperate enough to ask Tim for a name.Once she's in the water, bobbing gently against the trailer, a thought hits Jimmy. "Um… Isn't it easier to get the name on her if she's not swaying in the water?"Gibbs nods at that."So… We taking her back out again in a week?"He shakes his head. "I'll put her name on clear vinyl, and then attach that." That's not standard operating procedure for naming a ship, but, if he wants to put a new name and numbers on it quickly and easily, that's the way to go about doing it.Actually, he thinks about that some more. Ducky and Penny have that lawyer on standby, if he were to… build a corporation or a non-profit or whatever the hell they do, that corporation could own a boat. That boat could be registered out of… wherever works best. The fact that that boat would be identical to a boat owned by Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but had a different name, tags, and flag, would just be convenient. He could swap out his tags if he needed to, and because they'd both be legit, he wouldn't have to worry about a deep background check on them.He makes a mental note to mention that to Duck and Penny, and then sighs quietly because now he needs two names."Okay, you unhook her, and I'll sail her into the boat house."So, Jimmy gets to it.Saturday had been a long and full day. Ducky and Penny had spent close to eight hours at the house. Today's job for everyone who isn't Tim: attach the log cabin looking siding to the house. With the whole crew working they got the entire first floor and half of the second floor attached. (Tim continued to work on floor plans. As the only one besides Penny with any engineering background, and unable to do any heavy lifting, he's become the unofficial architect for the house. To say this makes him nervous is an understatement. To say that someone who actually has a degree in architecture is going to look over this plan of his before they start ripping out walls is a fact.)That's a good day's work for eight hours.And so, 'round dinner time, Duck and Penny head home to a quiet night of take out, hot showers to sooth sore joints and muscles, ice packs to cut down on any swelling and inflammation that may arise as the result of said day of hard work, followed by a lazy night of reading and talking.That's how most of the night went, pleasant, warm, and comfortable. In that Penny isn't crying or, from the looks of it, wrecked by anger and guilt, this is one of the best nights they've had in weeks. As they settle into bed, light sheet and blanket draped over them, Penny, who had for the last few weeks turned her back toward Ducky, a sign of a need for comfort, snuggling, and sleep, tonight reached for him, facing him, a sign of desired kisses, it turned into a very good night, indeed.While it's true that anyone who knows Ducky knows that he likes to hear himself talk, it's also true that there is a select group of ladies who are familiar with the fact that, properly relaxed, and in a splendid post-coital mood, that he can wax poetic and often goofy toward his companion, and in that tonight was the first time in weeks that he's been in such a mood, he is feeling especially effusive."I have always felt there was a special melody to the name Penelope," his soft Scottish burr caresses the syllables of Penny's name as his hand slips over her arm that's resting across his chest. By this point, she's well-used to his post-sex chatter and finds it soothing and relaxing. "Donald, of course, is frank and boring, no music at all, but Penelope, beautiful sounds flowing one after the other.""Mmm." Penny's never been very impressed by her name. It's just a name to her."Rhymes with Calliope, muse of epic poetry, which is fitting I suppose, in that Penelope is the leading lady of an epic poem."Penny exhales, slow and deep, drifting, her lips pressed to Ducky's shoulder. "Uh huh." She knows all about Penelope from the Odyssey. Long ago, before feminism, before learning to stand on her own, she was a child bride with a husband often away for long stretches of time. "Penelope is faithful," she wore that on her heart and kept it close as a mantra. If that Penelope could wait twenty years, running her husband's home, keeping gold-digging suitors at bay while raising her son, she could handle six months or a year.And she did, but they were long months and longer years.Ducky's thinking along a similar line, remembering reading the Odyssey years ago, and two words, inspired by his beloved's name and the hunt for another name spring to mind, "Semper Fidelus."That wakes Penny up a bit, those aren't words she's expecting. "Mmm? Semper Fi?"Ducky kisses her forehead. "Jethro's boat. The hunt for a fitting name, something that captures what that boat was supposed to be about, a testament to his loves, and to who he is and who he hopes to be, faithful to his need to protect people."Penny thinks about that. "Shannon and Kelly are not forgotten, but not the bedrock of his life anymore, shifting his passion and focus to what comes ahead, and promise of his faith to that, plus all of his Marine life wrapped up in it." She's smiling at that. "I think it works."By Sunday, Abby's got a new morning routine. Wake up, feel like crap, grab Zofran, take Zofran, stay very, very, VERY still for about ten minutes, tentatively sit up, nibble a few saltines, sip some lukewarm ginger ale, and, by then, she's not exactly feeling spiffy, but she's good enough to face the day.Usually, by noon her hormones figure out what they're doing, and she's feeling better.Thus, she is, according to a not very scientific survey of Breena and Penny, the only woman in existence to ever have morning sickness only in the morning.By Sunday, Tim also has a new morning routine. He wakes up, grumbles a bit, grabs his pain medication, dry swallows it, sits himself up and starts on his range of motion exercises. He pretty much has to start with them, because apparently his body is under the impression that all of his injured areas should fuse tight while he sleeps, and if he doesn't start out stretching, he's pretty much not going to be moving anytime soon.Abby's still mid-stay very still and he's very tentatively starting on his torso twists (which Jimmy said he could start today) when he says, "Remember how we used to wake up? All snuggled together, maybe a little sex, warm and comfy?""Yeah.""Then we did some yoga, grabbed Kelly, and got on with the morning." Yoga in the sense of quiet, meditative time together more or less died when Kelly was born. However, they did usually manage to get ten or so minutes of stretching out, and then one of them would grab her and take care of her morning routine and breakfast for them while the other one finished working out and got a shower. Next day, they'd swap. Little hectic and crowded, but it was getting the job done.And now it's not. Abby's sleeping every second she can, and Tim's just getting to the point where he can do a few, very basic, seated poses and hip openers. He's mostly doing his breathing, then working on stretching out his calf and shoulder a bit, today he's adding in the twists for his ribs, and if all goes well, he'll eventually stand up and take a few steps."Yep." Abby reaches for a saltine and sits up."That's my anniversary goal. October 23, 2016, four years after our second first date, we're starting the day wrapped in each other, feeling good, making love."Abby smiles at that. "End the day that way, too.""I really hope so!"Sunday was another bright and sunny day, which meant another day at the house, and by the end of it, when the rest of the family had headed off to their own homes, Ducky asks to see the boat."Sure, Duck." Jethro'd done the grand tour yesterday, but he's fine with showing her off again.The three of them head to the boat house, and for a moment stand there, watching her bob slightly with the gentle rise and fall of the water."I think I may have stumbled upon a name for her."Jethro looks pleased at that and his face is telling Ducky to say more."Semper Fidelus."Gibbs smiles at that. He can see the angles on that, and he also deeply approves of a name that is welcoming to Abbi as well as summing up what this boat meant and means to him.Penny rests her hand on Semper's bow, "She's a symbol of faithfulness, to the past, to the future, a commitment to doing the right thing."Gibbs nods. "I'll get to work on it. Now all we need is another one." This time Penny and Ducky are staring at him in confusion, but the minute or two in which he explains what he's looking for in the way of two registries has them both nodding in concert. "Come on up and in."He gives Penny a hand up, and Ducky as well, though both of them are capable of climbing in themselves. Below decks he has several storage areas, and, towards the bow, built in above a small desk area, is a small, letter-box looking drawer that he taps. "This one's for carrying her papers. Every boat has one, where you put your charts, your registration, whatever other information you need." He opens it, and it's about five inches deep. "I'm thinking I can modify this, put two shelves in and a lock. Turn the key half-way, and only the bottom shelf opens, turn the key the whole way and the top shelf will open, giving you the second one. Keep whichever set I'm supposed to show in the bottom one, and the second set in the top, only pull them out in an emergency." He takes one step over to the bunks. The top bunk is small, a good size for a child, but an adult won't fit up there. He gently taps the wooden planks that support the top bunk. "Hollow one or two of these out, and I can carry the alternative registration and name in here. Things get hairy, I can swap names and regs in less than five minutes. As long as I've got a bit of heads up, I can sail right past whoever's looking for one ship by carrying the marks of the other. Name her Semper Fidelus and fly the Marine flag as well as the US one and no one'll look twice at her, unless they're actively tipped off."Ducky and Penny look impressed by that."So, tomorrow, I'll get her registered. You guys see about getting the second registration up, and… come Friday…"Ducky feels a rush of anticipation. He knows that most likely all Friday will accomplish is introductions to another set of people who may, or may not, get them one step closer to the active part of their plan, still there is the thrill of the grand conspiracy moving forward and he's enjoying it."Come Friday," Ducky says."Friday," Penny finishes.
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Shards To A Whole: Chapter 407: Lunch With McGee
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 407: Lunch With McGee
Bootcamp without Tim is just weird. Not that Tony's been doing this all that long, but it just feels odd not to have McGee there.After the first two months, when he started to wipe the cobwebs of not having really fought in years out of his mind, and got back into it, it became really fun.And not just fun, but useful. First off, he's honing skills that have been rusting for a while. Secondly, this is vastly more interesting than any sort of aerobics or running he's ever done. On par with real sports. Because you have to think, watch, and react. He does kind of wish he could get this crew on the court, (they'd go home with a lot fewer bruises if he could get them playing basketball) but he's thinking that's unlikely. (When it comes down to it, he suspects the Wonder Twins both get off on telling people they're into MMA. It may be possible that he, sort of, gloated, a little, when talking to one of the CIA spooks about how he was keeping in shape with hand to hand when said Spook was talking about Pilates.)And Tony is in better shape, now. (Not where he's wanting to get, not yet, but better. Fight Club was right, fighting turns men from cookie dough into carved wood. Say what you will about solving problems with words and whatnot, but he hasn't had arm or shoulder definition like this since Bush was in office.) In fact, it's possible that mesh shirt/leather trousers combo might come out again for Halloween, which is a bit earlier than he was expecting, and would please Ziva to no end.He also thinks that it's good for him and McGee. As the last few months of working together showed, they need a space for competition. He knows he doesn't feel that with Gibbs or Palmer. He can fight with either of them and it's just about going through the moves, the exercise, working/fighting hard.But that's not all it is for him and McGee. Gibbs has been and pretty much always will be Tony's Boss. That's part of why they can't work together any more. Tony can't be the Boss if Gibbs is around. And Jimmy's never been part of the chain of command. It's not that Jimmy was so far down on the pecking order that it never mattered, as that he's not actually a rooster, so he was never part of the pecking order. But McGee… Part of Probie-ing the ever living shit out of McGee was making sure he knew his place. Part of it was making sure Tony knew his. And when they fight, that history is part of it.For the most part, they're past that now. McGee knows his place. Tony knows his. They each own their own places. But they've still got that edge of jockeying for who's on top. And that comes out when they fight each other. Tony can, as much as it's possible, relax when he's fighting Palmer or Gibbs. He can't relax when he fights McGee, because that edge is still there. Which means, of all of his sparring partners, McGee's the only one who really gets him fighting when he fights.And he misses that."How's Tim really doing?" Collin asks as they finish up Bootcamp and are unwrapping their hands. He saw Tim at church and tried not to stare too much. He knew Tim got the shit beaten out of him. Amy had told him about that, but knowing and seeing are not the same thing. Seeing, and then of course, imagining, because you can't see a guy you regularly spar with hurt that bad and not imagine what had to put him there, made Collin want to throw up.He's fought Tim, one on one, two on one, two on two, three on one, all sorts of combos. He knows Tim can fight. Sure, when they're doing it, they're pulling punches and trying to not actually kill each other, but… The guys who did that to Tim had to be the size of trucks.He's looking at Jimmy for an answer, who notices that everyone else is, as well."As well as can be expected. He's messed up. He's hurting. He's not going to stop hurting anytime soon. It's only in the movies that someone goes through that and bounces back two days later."Tony snorts a quick laugh. "Or they're him." He jerks his head at Gibbs.Gibbs shrugs, unwrapping his fingers. He knows he always did heal up faster than most of the people around him. "Even I don't bounce back that fast.""I've had hangnails that have taken longer to heal than you with bullet wounds," Tony says. "Still, I know McGee wanted to get started with knives, any ideas on…""Knives?" Collin asks."Tim doesn't have a knife combat proficiency, and he wants one. Eventually, when Jimmy says he's ready, we will begin training," Ziva says."He's got to get walking first, without a crutch, and that's at least three weeks, probably six, off, and he's not doing anything until his arm is out of the cast, probably another two months for that. So, best case scenario, he's back with us in fall. And just to work out, no one's fighting him then. As badly busted up as his arm was, it's going to be a long time before he's doing anything beyond rehab. And that's a really hopeful forecast. And…" Jimmy stops, thinking for a moment about Tim in Autopsy, not sure about saying it, but… "Look, he's saying he wants to fight, and that's fine, but… once he actually gets fighting, he may find very quickly that he really doesn't want to fight. I know I didn't want to shoot a gun after I had to do it for real, and even safe, with Tim, in a well-lit shooting range, once againsafe, that first shot brought back a lot of the feelings of fear and danger that went with doing it for real." Jimmy shakes his head a little. "Once someone's actually going after him, Tim might flash back to it. Since he's making his guys keep up their martial arts proficiencies, I'm sure he will, too, but… It might be a long time, it might never happen, where this is fun for him again."Ziva's nodding when Jimmy mentions that. The guys catch that nod, know what it means. Jimmy's giving her a you want to add anything?look, but she shakes her head. Some things she doesn't like talking about.Tony and Ziva are heading home. He's driving. She's looking out the window, watching cars blur by."How long?" Tony asks. Seeing her nod, it hit him that his Ninja knows all about going back to it after a long hard fight."Until fighting didn't bring Somalia back, or until I enjoyed it again?""Both?" They still don't talk a lot about Somalia. They have, he knows what happened and how she dealt with it, but neither of them like dwelling on it."A year before I could strike and not feel a second of panic. When I was taken, I knew they were going to win. I knew how to read a fight well enough to know I couldn't get out, and then… Then it was all about making myself as expensive a target as possible. For a year after I got back, every fight, no matter how easy, I felt that second of realizing I couldn't win. I was able to master it, control it, shove it into the back of my mind and not deal with it, but I felt it."Tony nods at that. "Enjoying it again?"She smiles, and it's a cold, hard, deadly smile. "Bodnar."Tony nods at that, too. He'd told her, all those years ago, 'I will hold him down while you kill him.' He didn't need to do that. When he saw what Ziva did, when she went full out, no holds barred, no reserves in her mind, when she was fighting to inflict not just maximum damage, but maximum pain, he realized exactly how stupid that offer was. He'd meant it, and it was sincere. It was just… less necessary than offering to hold down an opponent for Superman.All he did was occasionally kick Bodnar back toward Ziva when it looked like there was a shot of him running, and then limping, and then crawling away."You should talk to him," Tony says."I will. When he's a bit more healed, when he's had time to come to terms with the fact that this will always be there. You should talk to him, too."His eyebrows furrow. "About?""He is your friend, he was hurt, you two have not had any time alone with each other since. Tuesday, if we don't have a hot case, have lunch with him. I will mind the store."There is a case. Tuesday and Wednesday they're hunting down clues, interviewing suspects, putting the pieces together, but, by early Thursday morning Ziva's lounging in the back corner of interrogation, while Bishop breaks her first perp, pulling a full confession out of him.Once the words are out of him, all that's left is writing up the paperwork and getting his signature.Ziva heads out with Bishop, sending her back to her desk to start typing. She stops into Observation and says to Tony, "I have got this. Go have lunch with McGee."He smiles at her, nodding, and pulls out his phone. Tony flashes a text to Tim. Lunch?Sure. Comes back a minute later. Got a place in mind?We'll figure it out. I've got to take you, right?There's a minute long pause, where Tony is sure that Tim's being annoyed about the fact that he can't drive, but then, True pops up on his phone."So it hit me," Tony says, heading into Tim's office, carrying a bag and closing the door, "that you've got an actual office now. Which means," he's putting the bag on Tim's desk, and tugging a chair over, "that I can bring food to you a hell of a lot easier than I can get you to food." It also hit Tony, when he decided what he wanted to eat for lunch, that the place in question didn't have much in the way of seats. It's way more of a delivery/take out spot, and dragging Tim to somewhere he can't really sit is a bad plan.Tim inclines his head in a somewhat annoyed gesture. It's not that Tony's wrong. He's dead on right; Tim's best crutching speed is about a third of Tony's walking speed, and, in his attempt to get back to real work on Monday, the only pain killers he's had are Aleeve (the absolute maximum number of them Jimmy says he can have at his weight), so he's aching all over and crutching even more slowly than normal. And, with hurting all over he's in a bad mood and annoyed by everything that makes him remember he's hurt, like not going to places, or, even more basic things, like breathing.He closes his eyes and tries to pull away from the hot knot of annoyed festering in his head. "What'd you get?""Cheese steaks." Tony smiles. "New place on 35th claims they know how to make them."This is a conversation they've been having for years. Tony's been on a quest to find a real Philly Cheese Steak since leaving Philadelphia. Apparently there are passable replicas in Baltimore, but once you get any further south than that, they vanish, replaced by something called "Philly Cheese Steak Subs" which are, in no way, shape or form, "real" cheese steaks.Tim's gotten to the point where he no longer believes in the existence of a "real" cheese steak. He's thinking that Tony's built them up so much in his mind that they could go to Philadelphia, get the steaks, eat them there, and they still wouldn't pass muster."The unicorn hunt." Tim pushes his keyboard out of the way as Tony hands over a silver foil wrapped sub that smells pretty good, and puts a large container of fries between them."Always." Tony snags a fry while opening his. "Fries are good."Tim munches one. They are. "Yep. Good omen. Maybe there's an actual unicorn in there."Tony snorts at that. "Kind of horn-shaped." He inhales deeply as the scent of fried beef, onions, and…"Cheeze whiz?" Tim winces. He can't imagine anyone intentionally putting cheeze-whizz on a sandwich, let alone wanting to eat a sandwich that has cheeze whiz on it."That's how they're supposed to be made. Yours has Swiss.""Thank you." Tim manages to get his unrolled, and it looks pretty good. He's perfectly happy with not getting the 'authentic' experience. He takes a bite and his eyebrows shoot up, that's a really good sandwich. Not barbecue good, but fried steak, onions, mushrooms and Swiss cheese, on a roll with a crispy crust and a chewy crumb is definitely going onto the go-get-it-again list.Tony's humming with pleasure. "Hard roll, processed cheeze, just enough grease… It's perfect. And look, no lettuce, no tomatoes. I didn't even have to tell them to skip the mayo."Tim nods along. "Tasty." They eat quietly for a few bites, just enjoying the food and sitting with each other.Tony looks out seeing the Minions (two of them are in right now) working away. "Didn't you have more of them?"Tim looks out. "Twenty-four/seven and a lot of night owls. Any given time I want five of them on. Right now two of them are here, one's in the Great Lakes office, two more in Europe, and I think I've got one in Okinawa, one in Perth, and one in Istanbul. While I was out, Sturm came up with a scheduling program, you put the hours you want to work in, and then log in when you're working, and once five people are on, it lets everyone know the slots are filled. You can work or not as you like, it's fine if more than five people are on, and for a lot of shifts we've got more than five on. If we ever drop below five, it sends out a note to everyone who's got that time listed as one they want to work. It keeps beeping everyone on that shift who hasn't put their forty hours in every two minutes until someone logs on. If it goes for more than twenty minutes without someone logging on, then it opens it up to all of us. If another twenty minutes goes by, it lets me know, and I go kick some ass until someone logs on and we're up to full strength.""Cool.""Yeah." Tim watches Tony chew for a second, and then, once he's between bites asks, "How's it going with Bishop and Draga?""Smoother than you're walking."Tim rolls his eyes some. "What isn't these days?""Good point. It's… I don't know. A quarter of the time I look over at the bullpen and want to ask who the hell all these people are and what they think they're doing in there. Fornell was in last week and he had the same response. Just stood there, stared, shook his head, sighed, and then got on with it."The cases are different, so the work has to be different, right? Homicides are still about the same, just wrapped one of them, but the big ones… We're getting intel from everyone, coordinating hunts from all over. We'll get a case, and the first week is just working through data from FBI, NSA, CIA, and Homeland. It's my job to track down who has what and make the bastards share it. That's why Fornell was in. Bishop slices and dices and give us some sort of projection of who we're looking for and what sort of stuff they're likely to do next. She's really excited about this, because back at NSA all she did was write papers about what could happen, and here she's getting to come up with her forecast and then work with us on what happens next. Ziva and Draga spend hours reading through cases, getting the details, putting the picture together."It's July, we've been on this since January, and the only one we've moved on was that London case. Maybe we'll be ready for another one of them by November. Nothing gets taken care of right away. We've always got something cooking, and we just shove it to the side to deal with murders. We don't even have paperwork days anymore. There's always a massive backlog of intel that needs to be gone through to add to whatever picture we're working on. We're adding cases a lot faster than we're clearing them."Tim smiles at that. "Sounds like you've become the CIA.""Really. You know how we'd walk into something and some local LEO would give us crap about trampling into a year-long case?"Tim nods."Yeah, well, I've got the year-long cases now. I've probably got three-year-long cases now."Tim nods at that, too. "Got a bunch of them cooking. We set up a lot of electronic surveillance for you guys.""That's what Draga's been doing. Something about 'passive intel gathering.' He's got the computers watching email and chats and texts and Facebook and whatever, searching for key terms Bishop dreams up.""We do a lot of that, too. Coming up with anything?"Tony shrugs. "I'm here eating with you, not in Istanbul busting up an ISIS cell.""Good point."Tony puts his sub down. "Okay, I may be messing this up, but Draga and Bishop were talking about it. You know we're on Silk Road 4 now?"That's an oversimplification of the situation, but it'll work. "Yeah.""Bishop wants Draga to figure out a way to break into it, and just watch. Not shut it down. She thinks it's a hell of a lot more useful up and working, because then we can see what's going on and who's doing what and where.""If Draga pulls that off, I'm stealing him. I can pay him better and give him better hours."Tony looks at Tim. He doesn't say out-loud that that's beyond Draga's skills, but it's clear in his eyes.Tim looks back. "You know how to upload a job as well as anyone else. Put it in the system and we'll take a swing at it. Can't promise we'll get it working, let alone anytime soon, but, hell, we do that and we'll have every member of the alphabet soup begging for our data feed." Then Tim stops. Brand's first day is Monday, and sure, she's going to need some time to get up and running, but busting into Silk Road to monitor it might be a good match for her skillset, especially if she's got a decent team with her. Even if Tony doesn't put that in the job queue, he's thinking they're going to get on that. Then another thought hits. "Of course, there's always been this rumor floating around about Silk Road, that CIA's been running it since version 2. So, you may want to ask them pretty please and save me thousands of man hours.""I know a guy who might know.""Check in with him, and…" Tim thinks even more about the logistics of that case. "Hell, okay, if the CIA is running it; they don't want that getting out. So, if you get the sense that you're being stonewalled, we may go poking about in their data feed. Not like they're going to report us for piggy-backing onto their top secret op. They don't want the fact that they're running it getting out, especially since if they're running it they aren't sharing what they're getting out of it. The Congressional hearings alone on that would take years."Tony smiles at that and takes another bite of his sub. "Is Abby going to need to start up another McGee Defense Lawyer Fund?""I'm better at this now than I was then, and I've already done it before, so I know what mistakes I made the first time." Tim smiles at Tony."And ever since you got that Director title next to your name, you've been feeling pretty cocky about everything."Tim inclines his head, not disagreeing about that.Tony shakes his head a bit. Tim most certainly has his place now.Another quiet minute while they both eat. Since they're kind of on the topic, Tony decides to say something about it. "I got an email from Burley this morning."Tim's eyebrows rise."He's double and triple checking every case Mane or your dad could have been involved with."Tim nods, he knows that."He's not coming up with much."Tim also knows that.The door to Tim's office is closed, but Tony glances at it to double check, anyway. "So, really, you don't want us doing anything on your dad, or was that just about cover in front of Penny?"Tim glances away from Tony, to the target on the wall behind him, then back to him. "You and Ziva are working on catching him at something, right?""Yeah.""That's all I need."Tony's not buying that. Tim can read his So, are we not talking about this because we're at work, or is there more going on here? look."I'm good." We're talking, just keep it vague. Tim's face replies."Bullshit. You aren't good. You can't be good!"Fine. I'm not good, there's a plan here, okay? Tim's eye roll tells Tony.Tony nods at that.This part's in bounds, so Tim says it out loud. "I want you guys to find something on him. I want him disgraced! That's what I want. More than anything else, that's what I want."Tony nods at that, too. "You know, we can…" Fake the evidence. You want something pinned on him, and we'll make that case Chip put up against me look like amateur hour. At least, that's what Tony's trying to say with a look.Tim gets it loud and clear. "No. I need him to go down for something he actually did.""And if we can't? Burley's not finding shit. Ziva and I aren't, either. Mane's got lots of hinky stuff on him, but he's conveniently dead."Tim hits Tony with a trust me, it's covered look."Sure?"Tim nods. "But, maybe…" He tries to think about it like a lawyer and how the patterns would work. "Okay, go through all the other secretaries and pets. If you can get stuff on all of them, that would be grounds for a conspiracy case, right?"Tony nods. "Shaky, but better than nothing."Tim puts his sub down, thinking about what happened to him, what triggered his Dad. "Um… long shot, but…" He rubs his face. "Check the cold cases, December 29th on to January of '95."Tony grabs his phone and sends that as a text to Burley. "Okay. Why then?"Tim knows Tony's asking not just because he's curious, but also because a twenty-year-old cold case is going to be almost impossible to solve, and unless it's a murder or kidnapping the statute of limitations on it'll be over."I've been talking to Wolf about all of this, and he says that domestic abusers usually have one victim. That, there's something they get out of going after that one person. December 24th 1994, I told him I wasn't going to Annapolis. That fight was so bad that they didn't let the two of us spend any time alone with each other after that. He was back on his ship by the 29th. That was the end of me as his target. It was clear he'd never get another shot at me, so… maybe he found someone else?"Tony nods slowly at that. "Okay. We'll check." Tony puts his cell down. "You never said how bad it was."Tim shrugs. "Took a while to get enough perspective to see how bad it was. Not like he did this," Tim looks at himself, getting across what this is, "to me when I was a kid. Just words. Lots and lots of words.""That's what was going on before Kelly was born?""Yeah. It's why I'm not talking to my mom anymore.""Ducky said it was… bad.""He tried to have me killed, yeah, it was bad. Guys who get along don't do crap like this to each other."Tony decides to leave it alone. He poked because he was curious, and to see if he could get Tim to expound on bad, but Tim's not touching it, so Tony's done, too. He might want to know exactly how bad bad was, but he's not going to press.But after a few seconds, Tim does start to fill him in on details. One of the things Wolf's suggested is that talking about it'll numb some of the force of it, so, Tony's here, he's offered to listen, he's safe. Tim adds more, "It was bad enough that once I ripped up my acceptance letter, and that fight ended, they wouldn't let us be in the same room alone. My mom and Gran were afraid we'd really hurt each other. Six months later, I'm graduating. He'd already set it up so he had leave for my high school graduation and was land based that whole summer, but I wasn't going to Annapolis, so he didn't attend. Then they got me out of there. I got my diploma at something like 5:30 in the afternoon, and I was in the air first thing in the morning to go live with my grandmother until I could get into the dorm for college. I lived with her that summer, didn't speak to or see him again until my grandfather's funeral two years later."He was out of Alameda that summer, so… Summer '95, might be a good place to look. He was never happy on land, but he was there, because… I don't know, I guess there was supposed to be some sort of getting me ready for Annapolis crap, which probably would have meant sticking me on a boat until I'd thrown up enough weight to look good in uniform. It didn't happen, and my mom started the divorce proceedings that winter, so it must have been a worse summer for her."He sees the light in Tony's eyes and knows what he's thinking."Yeah, she may have been his target of choice if I wasn't around. I don't know. Whatever happened, she wasn't telling me, and it finally got bad enough she decided to get out. Or my grandfather got so loopy with Alzheimer's that he didn't know what was going on in her marriage anymore. Pop was very, very Catholic and Mom and the Admiral divorcing would have killed him.""Oh. Would have freaked my grandparents out if they'd been alive when Dad started getting divorced every two years.""Yeah. That was a bad few years for my Mom. Pop faded away, she and The Admiral," Tony notices that Tim never calls him 'Dad' anymore, not that he used to, not a lot, but every now and again it'd pop out. It doesn't anymore. "got divorced, Gran was sick, but we didn't know. She thought she was just run down because taking care of Pop was three full time jobs. They died within a year of each other, and Mom was taking care of them and Sarah, and trying to get on her feet again.""California didn't have no fault divorces back then, did it?" Tony's thinking he may look into their divorce papers, too. The custody set up for Sarah may be informative of what was going on."Don't know. But even if it went 'well' which it probably did, a long, messy divorce would have looked bad so he would have tried to avoid it, it would have required breaking everything up." Tim's feeling pretty tired and listless just going over that and Tony can see it."Sorry, this sucks to talk about, doesn't it?""Rumor has it, it gets better."Tony shrugs at that, not in his experience. "She's been gone forty years, I don't find talking about it any easier."Tim sighs. He knows the 'she' in question is Tony's mom. "Yeah." He taps his fingers on the top of the desk. With the situation with his own parents being so messed up, Tim's never really asked any questions about Tony's family. Tony's told him things, and Tim listens and nods, but he never dug any deeper. "Tony, what happened to her?" He's heard stories about her, about who she was and the sort of things she'd make Tony do. When he was new to the team those stories focused on the Little Lord Fauntleroy obsession, and the vampire themed home and just weird stuff. As more time went by, they got stories about going to the movies and quiet time, and… And he doesn't know what happened to Tony's mom.Tony smiles softly, sadness in his eyes. "I don't really know." He exhales. "I think, but I don't know, she was schizophrenic. There were times when she was normal and good to be with, and we'd see movies, and go into the city, and I think she was on medication then. And then there were times where she'd be ripping out the electric lights and making sure everything was lit with candles because it'd keep us safe. Or drinking all the time and fighting with my Dad. And, uh… One day I come home from school, and the housekeeper takes me to the hospital, my dad was already there and she was 'sick,' and for three days we stayed there, but she didn't get better. I think she ODed on something." Tony blinks, hard, and gives Tim a see, forty years, not getting any easier look, and Tim nods. "I never looked into it any deeper. She just got sick one day and died, and then I was in boarding school until I went to college."They sit there quietly for a few more seconds and then Tony forces a grin onto his face. "God, that's depressing. So, Silk Road 4, is that something you can do?"Tim picks up his sub and takes a bite from it. "Not easy, but yeah, I think we can."
Next
Chapter 407: Lunch With McGee
Bootcamp without Tim is just weird. Not that Tony's been doing this all that long, but it just feels odd not to have McGee there.After the first two months, when he started to wipe the cobwebs of not having really fought in years out of his mind, and got back into it, it became really fun.And not just fun, but useful. First off, he's honing skills that have been rusting for a while. Secondly, this is vastly more interesting than any sort of aerobics or running he's ever done. On par with real sports. Because you have to think, watch, and react. He does kind of wish he could get this crew on the court, (they'd go home with a lot fewer bruises if he could get them playing basketball) but he's thinking that's unlikely. (When it comes down to it, he suspects the Wonder Twins both get off on telling people they're into MMA. It may be possible that he, sort of, gloated, a little, when talking to one of the CIA spooks about how he was keeping in shape with hand to hand when said Spook was talking about Pilates.)And Tony is in better shape, now. (Not where he's wanting to get, not yet, but better. Fight Club was right, fighting turns men from cookie dough into carved wood. Say what you will about solving problems with words and whatnot, but he hasn't had arm or shoulder definition like this since Bush was in office.) In fact, it's possible that mesh shirt/leather trousers combo might come out again for Halloween, which is a bit earlier than he was expecting, and would please Ziva to no end.He also thinks that it's good for him and McGee. As the last few months of working together showed, they need a space for competition. He knows he doesn't feel that with Gibbs or Palmer. He can fight with either of them and it's just about going through the moves, the exercise, working/fighting hard.But that's not all it is for him and McGee. Gibbs has been and pretty much always will be Tony's Boss. That's part of why they can't work together any more. Tony can't be the Boss if Gibbs is around. And Jimmy's never been part of the chain of command. It's not that Jimmy was so far down on the pecking order that it never mattered, as that he's not actually a rooster, so he was never part of the pecking order. But McGee… Part of Probie-ing the ever living shit out of McGee was making sure he knew his place. Part of it was making sure Tony knew his. And when they fight, that history is part of it.For the most part, they're past that now. McGee knows his place. Tony knows his. They each own their own places. But they've still got that edge of jockeying for who's on top. And that comes out when they fight each other. Tony can, as much as it's possible, relax when he's fighting Palmer or Gibbs. He can't relax when he fights McGee, because that edge is still there. Which means, of all of his sparring partners, McGee's the only one who really gets him fighting when he fights.And he misses that."How's Tim really doing?" Collin asks as they finish up Bootcamp and are unwrapping their hands. He saw Tim at church and tried not to stare too much. He knew Tim got the shit beaten out of him. Amy had told him about that, but knowing and seeing are not the same thing. Seeing, and then of course, imagining, because you can't see a guy you regularly spar with hurt that bad and not imagine what had to put him there, made Collin want to throw up.He's fought Tim, one on one, two on one, two on two, three on one, all sorts of combos. He knows Tim can fight. Sure, when they're doing it, they're pulling punches and trying to not actually kill each other, but… The guys who did that to Tim had to be the size of trucks.He's looking at Jimmy for an answer, who notices that everyone else is, as well."As well as can be expected. He's messed up. He's hurting. He's not going to stop hurting anytime soon. It's only in the movies that someone goes through that and bounces back two days later."Tony snorts a quick laugh. "Or they're him." He jerks his head at Gibbs.Gibbs shrugs, unwrapping his fingers. He knows he always did heal up faster than most of the people around him. "Even I don't bounce back that fast.""I've had hangnails that have taken longer to heal than you with bullet wounds," Tony says. "Still, I know McGee wanted to get started with knives, any ideas on…""Knives?" Collin asks."Tim doesn't have a knife combat proficiency, and he wants one. Eventually, when Jimmy says he's ready, we will begin training," Ziva says."He's got to get walking first, without a crutch, and that's at least three weeks, probably six, off, and he's not doing anything until his arm is out of the cast, probably another two months for that. So, best case scenario, he's back with us in fall. And just to work out, no one's fighting him then. As badly busted up as his arm was, it's going to be a long time before he's doing anything beyond rehab. And that's a really hopeful forecast. And…" Jimmy stops, thinking for a moment about Tim in Autopsy, not sure about saying it, but… "Look, he's saying he wants to fight, and that's fine, but… once he actually gets fighting, he may find very quickly that he really doesn't want to fight. I know I didn't want to shoot a gun after I had to do it for real, and even safe, with Tim, in a well-lit shooting range, once againsafe, that first shot brought back a lot of the feelings of fear and danger that went with doing it for real." Jimmy shakes his head a little. "Once someone's actually going after him, Tim might flash back to it. Since he's making his guys keep up their martial arts proficiencies, I'm sure he will, too, but… It might be a long time, it might never happen, where this is fun for him again."Ziva's nodding when Jimmy mentions that. The guys catch that nod, know what it means. Jimmy's giving her a you want to add anything?look, but she shakes her head. Some things she doesn't like talking about.Tony and Ziva are heading home. He's driving. She's looking out the window, watching cars blur by."How long?" Tony asks. Seeing her nod, it hit him that his Ninja knows all about going back to it after a long hard fight."Until fighting didn't bring Somalia back, or until I enjoyed it again?""Both?" They still don't talk a lot about Somalia. They have, he knows what happened and how she dealt with it, but neither of them like dwelling on it."A year before I could strike and not feel a second of panic. When I was taken, I knew they were going to win. I knew how to read a fight well enough to know I couldn't get out, and then… Then it was all about making myself as expensive a target as possible. For a year after I got back, every fight, no matter how easy, I felt that second of realizing I couldn't win. I was able to master it, control it, shove it into the back of my mind and not deal with it, but I felt it."Tony nods at that. "Enjoying it again?"She smiles, and it's a cold, hard, deadly smile. "Bodnar."Tony nods at that, too. He'd told her, all those years ago, 'I will hold him down while you kill him.' He didn't need to do that. When he saw what Ziva did, when she went full out, no holds barred, no reserves in her mind, when she was fighting to inflict not just maximum damage, but maximum pain, he realized exactly how stupid that offer was. He'd meant it, and it was sincere. It was just… less necessary than offering to hold down an opponent for Superman.All he did was occasionally kick Bodnar back toward Ziva when it looked like there was a shot of him running, and then limping, and then crawling away."You should talk to him," Tony says."I will. When he's a bit more healed, when he's had time to come to terms with the fact that this will always be there. You should talk to him, too."His eyebrows furrow. "About?""He is your friend, he was hurt, you two have not had any time alone with each other since. Tuesday, if we don't have a hot case, have lunch with him. I will mind the store."There is a case. Tuesday and Wednesday they're hunting down clues, interviewing suspects, putting the pieces together, but, by early Thursday morning Ziva's lounging in the back corner of interrogation, while Bishop breaks her first perp, pulling a full confession out of him.Once the words are out of him, all that's left is writing up the paperwork and getting his signature.Ziva heads out with Bishop, sending her back to her desk to start typing. She stops into Observation and says to Tony, "I have got this. Go have lunch with McGee."He smiles at her, nodding, and pulls out his phone. Tony flashes a text to Tim. Lunch?Sure. Comes back a minute later. Got a place in mind?We'll figure it out. I've got to take you, right?There's a minute long pause, where Tony is sure that Tim's being annoyed about the fact that he can't drive, but then, True pops up on his phone."So it hit me," Tony says, heading into Tim's office, carrying a bag and closing the door, "that you've got an actual office now. Which means," he's putting the bag on Tim's desk, and tugging a chair over, "that I can bring food to you a hell of a lot easier than I can get you to food." It also hit Tony, when he decided what he wanted to eat for lunch, that the place in question didn't have much in the way of seats. It's way more of a delivery/take out spot, and dragging Tim to somewhere he can't really sit is a bad plan.Tim inclines his head in a somewhat annoyed gesture. It's not that Tony's wrong. He's dead on right; Tim's best crutching speed is about a third of Tony's walking speed, and, in his attempt to get back to real work on Monday, the only pain killers he's had are Aleeve (the absolute maximum number of them Jimmy says he can have at his weight), so he's aching all over and crutching even more slowly than normal. And, with hurting all over he's in a bad mood and annoyed by everything that makes him remember he's hurt, like not going to places, or, even more basic things, like breathing.He closes his eyes and tries to pull away from the hot knot of annoyed festering in his head. "What'd you get?""Cheese steaks." Tony smiles. "New place on 35th claims they know how to make them."This is a conversation they've been having for years. Tony's been on a quest to find a real Philly Cheese Steak since leaving Philadelphia. Apparently there are passable replicas in Baltimore, but once you get any further south than that, they vanish, replaced by something called "Philly Cheese Steak Subs" which are, in no way, shape or form, "real" cheese steaks.Tim's gotten to the point where he no longer believes in the existence of a "real" cheese steak. He's thinking that Tony's built them up so much in his mind that they could go to Philadelphia, get the steaks, eat them there, and they still wouldn't pass muster."The unicorn hunt." Tim pushes his keyboard out of the way as Tony hands over a silver foil wrapped sub that smells pretty good, and puts a large container of fries between them."Always." Tony snags a fry while opening his. "Fries are good."Tim munches one. They are. "Yep. Good omen. Maybe there's an actual unicorn in there."Tony snorts at that. "Kind of horn-shaped." He inhales deeply as the scent of fried beef, onions, and…"Cheeze whiz?" Tim winces. He can't imagine anyone intentionally putting cheeze-whizz on a sandwich, let alone wanting to eat a sandwich that has cheeze whiz on it."That's how they're supposed to be made. Yours has Swiss.""Thank you." Tim manages to get his unrolled, and it looks pretty good. He's perfectly happy with not getting the 'authentic' experience. He takes a bite and his eyebrows shoot up, that's a really good sandwich. Not barbecue good, but fried steak, onions, mushrooms and Swiss cheese, on a roll with a crispy crust and a chewy crumb is definitely going onto the go-get-it-again list.Tony's humming with pleasure. "Hard roll, processed cheeze, just enough grease… It's perfect. And look, no lettuce, no tomatoes. I didn't even have to tell them to skip the mayo."Tim nods along. "Tasty." They eat quietly for a few bites, just enjoying the food and sitting with each other.Tony looks out seeing the Minions (two of them are in right now) working away. "Didn't you have more of them?"Tim looks out. "Twenty-four/seven and a lot of night owls. Any given time I want five of them on. Right now two of them are here, one's in the Great Lakes office, two more in Europe, and I think I've got one in Okinawa, one in Perth, and one in Istanbul. While I was out, Sturm came up with a scheduling program, you put the hours you want to work in, and then log in when you're working, and once five people are on, it lets everyone know the slots are filled. You can work or not as you like, it's fine if more than five people are on, and for a lot of shifts we've got more than five on. If we ever drop below five, it sends out a note to everyone who's got that time listed as one they want to work. It keeps beeping everyone on that shift who hasn't put their forty hours in every two minutes until someone logs on. If it goes for more than twenty minutes without someone logging on, then it opens it up to all of us. If another twenty minutes goes by, it lets me know, and I go kick some ass until someone logs on and we're up to full strength.""Cool.""Yeah." Tim watches Tony chew for a second, and then, once he's between bites asks, "How's it going with Bishop and Draga?""Smoother than you're walking."Tim rolls his eyes some. "What isn't these days?""Good point. It's… I don't know. A quarter of the time I look over at the bullpen and want to ask who the hell all these people are and what they think they're doing in there. Fornell was in last week and he had the same response. Just stood there, stared, shook his head, sighed, and then got on with it."The cases are different, so the work has to be different, right? Homicides are still about the same, just wrapped one of them, but the big ones… We're getting intel from everyone, coordinating hunts from all over. We'll get a case, and the first week is just working through data from FBI, NSA, CIA, and Homeland. It's my job to track down who has what and make the bastards share it. That's why Fornell was in. Bishop slices and dices and give us some sort of projection of who we're looking for and what sort of stuff they're likely to do next. She's really excited about this, because back at NSA all she did was write papers about what could happen, and here she's getting to come up with her forecast and then work with us on what happens next. Ziva and Draga spend hours reading through cases, getting the details, putting the picture together."It's July, we've been on this since January, and the only one we've moved on was that London case. Maybe we'll be ready for another one of them by November. Nothing gets taken care of right away. We've always got something cooking, and we just shove it to the side to deal with murders. We don't even have paperwork days anymore. There's always a massive backlog of intel that needs to be gone through to add to whatever picture we're working on. We're adding cases a lot faster than we're clearing them."Tim smiles at that. "Sounds like you've become the CIA.""Really. You know how we'd walk into something and some local LEO would give us crap about trampling into a year-long case?"Tim nods."Yeah, well, I've got the year-long cases now. I've probably got three-year-long cases now."Tim nods at that, too. "Got a bunch of them cooking. We set up a lot of electronic surveillance for you guys.""That's what Draga's been doing. Something about 'passive intel gathering.' He's got the computers watching email and chats and texts and Facebook and whatever, searching for key terms Bishop dreams up.""We do a lot of that, too. Coming up with anything?"Tony shrugs. "I'm here eating with you, not in Istanbul busting up an ISIS cell.""Good point."Tony puts his sub down. "Okay, I may be messing this up, but Draga and Bishop were talking about it. You know we're on Silk Road 4 now?"That's an oversimplification of the situation, but it'll work. "Yeah.""Bishop wants Draga to figure out a way to break into it, and just watch. Not shut it down. She thinks it's a hell of a lot more useful up and working, because then we can see what's going on and who's doing what and where.""If Draga pulls that off, I'm stealing him. I can pay him better and give him better hours."Tony looks at Tim. He doesn't say out-loud that that's beyond Draga's skills, but it's clear in his eyes.Tim looks back. "You know how to upload a job as well as anyone else. Put it in the system and we'll take a swing at it. Can't promise we'll get it working, let alone anytime soon, but, hell, we do that and we'll have every member of the alphabet soup begging for our data feed." Then Tim stops. Brand's first day is Monday, and sure, she's going to need some time to get up and running, but busting into Silk Road to monitor it might be a good match for her skillset, especially if she's got a decent team with her. Even if Tony doesn't put that in the job queue, he's thinking they're going to get on that. Then another thought hits. "Of course, there's always been this rumor floating around about Silk Road, that CIA's been running it since version 2. So, you may want to ask them pretty please and save me thousands of man hours.""I know a guy who might know.""Check in with him, and…" Tim thinks even more about the logistics of that case. "Hell, okay, if the CIA is running it; they don't want that getting out. So, if you get the sense that you're being stonewalled, we may go poking about in their data feed. Not like they're going to report us for piggy-backing onto their top secret op. They don't want the fact that they're running it getting out, especially since if they're running it they aren't sharing what they're getting out of it. The Congressional hearings alone on that would take years."Tony smiles at that and takes another bite of his sub. "Is Abby going to need to start up another McGee Defense Lawyer Fund?""I'm better at this now than I was then, and I've already done it before, so I know what mistakes I made the first time." Tim smiles at Tony."And ever since you got that Director title next to your name, you've been feeling pretty cocky about everything."Tim inclines his head, not disagreeing about that.Tony shakes his head a bit. Tim most certainly has his place now.Another quiet minute while they both eat. Since they're kind of on the topic, Tony decides to say something about it. "I got an email from Burley this morning."Tim's eyebrows rise."He's double and triple checking every case Mane or your dad could have been involved with."Tim nods, he knows that."He's not coming up with much."Tim also knows that.The door to Tim's office is closed, but Tony glances at it to double check, anyway. "So, really, you don't want us doing anything on your dad, or was that just about cover in front of Penny?"Tim glances away from Tony, to the target on the wall behind him, then back to him. "You and Ziva are working on catching him at something, right?""Yeah.""That's all I need."Tony's not buying that. Tim can read his So, are we not talking about this because we're at work, or is there more going on here? look."I'm good." We're talking, just keep it vague. Tim's face replies."Bullshit. You aren't good. You can't be good!"Fine. I'm not good, there's a plan here, okay? Tim's eye roll tells Tony.Tony nods at that.This part's in bounds, so Tim says it out loud. "I want you guys to find something on him. I want him disgraced! That's what I want. More than anything else, that's what I want."Tony nods at that, too. "You know, we can…" Fake the evidence. You want something pinned on him, and we'll make that case Chip put up against me look like amateur hour. At least, that's what Tony's trying to say with a look.Tim gets it loud and clear. "No. I need him to go down for something he actually did.""And if we can't? Burley's not finding shit. Ziva and I aren't, either. Mane's got lots of hinky stuff on him, but he's conveniently dead."Tim hits Tony with a trust me, it's covered look."Sure?"Tim nods. "But, maybe…" He tries to think about it like a lawyer and how the patterns would work. "Okay, go through all the other secretaries and pets. If you can get stuff on all of them, that would be grounds for a conspiracy case, right?"Tony nods. "Shaky, but better than nothing."Tim puts his sub down, thinking about what happened to him, what triggered his Dad. "Um… long shot, but…" He rubs his face. "Check the cold cases, December 29th on to January of '95."Tony grabs his phone and sends that as a text to Burley. "Okay. Why then?"Tim knows Tony's asking not just because he's curious, but also because a twenty-year-old cold case is going to be almost impossible to solve, and unless it's a murder or kidnapping the statute of limitations on it'll be over."I've been talking to Wolf about all of this, and he says that domestic abusers usually have one victim. That, there's something they get out of going after that one person. December 24th 1994, I told him I wasn't going to Annapolis. That fight was so bad that they didn't let the two of us spend any time alone with each other after that. He was back on his ship by the 29th. That was the end of me as his target. It was clear he'd never get another shot at me, so… maybe he found someone else?"Tony nods slowly at that. "Okay. We'll check." Tony puts his cell down. "You never said how bad it was."Tim shrugs. "Took a while to get enough perspective to see how bad it was. Not like he did this," Tim looks at himself, getting across what this is, "to me when I was a kid. Just words. Lots and lots of words.""That's what was going on before Kelly was born?""Yeah. It's why I'm not talking to my mom anymore.""Ducky said it was… bad.""He tried to have me killed, yeah, it was bad. Guys who get along don't do crap like this to each other."Tony decides to leave it alone. He poked because he was curious, and to see if he could get Tim to expound on bad, but Tim's not touching it, so Tony's done, too. He might want to know exactly how bad bad was, but he's not going to press.But after a few seconds, Tim does start to fill him in on details. One of the things Wolf's suggested is that talking about it'll numb some of the force of it, so, Tony's here, he's offered to listen, he's safe. Tim adds more, "It was bad enough that once I ripped up my acceptance letter, and that fight ended, they wouldn't let us be in the same room alone. My mom and Gran were afraid we'd really hurt each other. Six months later, I'm graduating. He'd already set it up so he had leave for my high school graduation and was land based that whole summer, but I wasn't going to Annapolis, so he didn't attend. Then they got me out of there. I got my diploma at something like 5:30 in the afternoon, and I was in the air first thing in the morning to go live with my grandmother until I could get into the dorm for college. I lived with her that summer, didn't speak to or see him again until my grandfather's funeral two years later."He was out of Alameda that summer, so… Summer '95, might be a good place to look. He was never happy on land, but he was there, because… I don't know, I guess there was supposed to be some sort of getting me ready for Annapolis crap, which probably would have meant sticking me on a boat until I'd thrown up enough weight to look good in uniform. It didn't happen, and my mom started the divorce proceedings that winter, so it must have been a worse summer for her."He sees the light in Tony's eyes and knows what he's thinking."Yeah, she may have been his target of choice if I wasn't around. I don't know. Whatever happened, she wasn't telling me, and it finally got bad enough she decided to get out. Or my grandfather got so loopy with Alzheimer's that he didn't know what was going on in her marriage anymore. Pop was very, very Catholic and Mom and the Admiral divorcing would have killed him.""Oh. Would have freaked my grandparents out if they'd been alive when Dad started getting divorced every two years.""Yeah. That was a bad few years for my Mom. Pop faded away, she and The Admiral," Tony notices that Tim never calls him 'Dad' anymore, not that he used to, not a lot, but every now and again it'd pop out. It doesn't anymore. "got divorced, Gran was sick, but we didn't know. She thought she was just run down because taking care of Pop was three full time jobs. They died within a year of each other, and Mom was taking care of them and Sarah, and trying to get on her feet again.""California didn't have no fault divorces back then, did it?" Tony's thinking he may look into their divorce papers, too. The custody set up for Sarah may be informative of what was going on."Don't know. But even if it went 'well' which it probably did, a long, messy divorce would have looked bad so he would have tried to avoid it, it would have required breaking everything up." Tim's feeling pretty tired and listless just going over that and Tony can see it."Sorry, this sucks to talk about, doesn't it?""Rumor has it, it gets better."Tony shrugs at that, not in his experience. "She's been gone forty years, I don't find talking about it any easier."Tim sighs. He knows the 'she' in question is Tony's mom. "Yeah." He taps his fingers on the top of the desk. With the situation with his own parents being so messed up, Tim's never really asked any questions about Tony's family. Tony's told him things, and Tim listens and nods, but he never dug any deeper. "Tony, what happened to her?" He's heard stories about her, about who she was and the sort of things she'd make Tony do. When he was new to the team those stories focused on the Little Lord Fauntleroy obsession, and the vampire themed home and just weird stuff. As more time went by, they got stories about going to the movies and quiet time, and… And he doesn't know what happened to Tony's mom.Tony smiles softly, sadness in his eyes. "I don't really know." He exhales. "I think, but I don't know, she was schizophrenic. There were times when she was normal and good to be with, and we'd see movies, and go into the city, and I think she was on medication then. And then there were times where she'd be ripping out the electric lights and making sure everything was lit with candles because it'd keep us safe. Or drinking all the time and fighting with my Dad. And, uh… One day I come home from school, and the housekeeper takes me to the hospital, my dad was already there and she was 'sick,' and for three days we stayed there, but she didn't get better. I think she ODed on something." Tony blinks, hard, and gives Tim a see, forty years, not getting any easier look, and Tim nods. "I never looked into it any deeper. She just got sick one day and died, and then I was in boarding school until I went to college."They sit there quietly for a few more seconds and then Tony forces a grin onto his face. "God, that's depressing. So, Silk Road 4, is that something you can do?"Tim picks up his sub and takes a bite from it. "Not easy, but yeah, I think we can."
Next
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 406: Sick
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 406: Sick
On Sunday, Tim wakes up to something other than the fierce ache of time for more pain medication. He wakes to the sound of retching, and Abby saying, "Oh god."It takes him a bit, but he gets his crutch, and into the bathroom, where Abby is kneeling next to the toilet, skin ashy, hair sweaty, and looking utterly miserable."Are you okay?""No," Abby looks like she's about to say something about asking stupid questions, but her body has other ideas, and she's retching again. He hobbles over, slowly gets himself sitting on the floor, and gently pets her back.When the spasms pass, she looks up at him and says, "I'm going to die," and begins to retch again. He gently rubs her back again. In all the time they've known each other, he's never seen her get any sort of tummy bug. Then he realizes this isn't a tummy bug, and smiles, but in a way where there's no shot of her seeing him do it.He lumbers up, gets her a Dixie cup of cool water so she can rise her mouth, and rubs her back again as she sits back on the floor."You didn't have that conversation about no morning sickness with Sean, did you?" he asks as he works one of the anti-nausea points on her wrist."Didn't think I needed to." She looks at her tummy. "No making Mom puke, you hear?"Ten minutes later, when she was throwing up again, it became fairly clear that Sean appears to be indifferent to said command.Tim's been more than annoyed at his current physical limitations, but right now he wants to scream. Abby's throwing up, Kelly's fussing, and he can't really help either of them.He hobbles into Kelly's room, talking to her, telling her good morning and stuff like that, but he can't pick her up because he needs the crutch to stand and he needs the only arm that works to use the crutch.Okay, there has got to be a way to do this. Kelly's melting down, she's hungry and upset, and him just standing there, shushing her is not getting the job done. The changing table is literally three steps away from the crib. Once there, he can get her cleaned up (he hopes) and get the snuggli in place (maybe) get her into the snuggli (err… yeah, this is sounding like a worse and worse idea by the moment) and then get them downstairs to where the bottles are and she can start breakfast.He nods at that plan, rests the crutch on the side of the crib, shifting weight to try to pick her up, and then mentally slaps himself upside the back of the head for being an idiot. Kelly is yelling because she is hungry. Fix the main problem, hungry, and the smaller problems (still in crib, wet diaper) won't bug her so much."I will be back in a minute." He grabs the crutch again, and she fusses even louder, appalled at the idea of him leaving her in her crib. He quick times it (just about normal walking speed) to the stairs, slides the crutch down, gets himself down, hobbles to the kitchen, makes up the bottle, tucks it between his cast arm and his stomach, and hobbles back up.Kelly's yelling even louder, but she's rapidly mollified when she sees what he's got."I know we don't usually do it this way, but I don't want to drop you," he says, handing her the bottle so she can eat in bed.She snatches the bottle and starts gulping quickly. Tim sees she's set, currently occupied, and heads back to his room in search of PJ pants, and more importantly, his phone.He sends off his first text to Gibbs: Help! Need an extra set of hands as soon as you can get here.The next text goes to Jimmy: If I can find those anti-nausea pills you gave me, can I give one to Abby?Jimmy gets back to him first. Yes. Do you have them handy?No idea. Don't know where anything besides my computer ended up.The girls and I are already up. I'll get a script written and filled for Abby. I take it morning sickness came to visit?No fever, throwing up, wishing she's dead.Sounds like morning sickness. Got any saltines? Flat ginger ale?I know the routine.There's a minute long pause while Tim struggles into his PJ pants and tells Abby what he's doing while she lies on her side on the bathroom floor.On my way. Pops up on his phone from Gibbs.Thanks. Abby's feeling sick, and I shouldn't get Kelly out of her crib.Stay put. I'll be there soon.Abby pushes herself up, sways a little, but gets standing. "I think I'm done.""Good."She heads toward Kelly's room, still looking shaky, and Tim follows behind, not sure what the hell he's going to be useful for, but going along anyway.Apparently what he's going to be useful for is getting in the way. Abby gets in there, catches one whiff of the formula that Kelly starts her day with, and is sprinting out again, practically running him over, back to the bathroom and dry heaving.Tim closes his eyes, sighs, and heads into the nursery. "I'm going to hang out here with you."Kelly smiles at him, bottle in her hand, she's content to hang out in her crib.Gibbs lives half an hour away. Even assuming he hopped directly out of bed and drove like a maniac, it'd still take at least eighteen minutes to get to Tim and Abby's.And Tim can't just sit there, doing not much of anything useful for that long.So, he devises another plan. He needs the crutch to go from point A to point B. Once he's where he needs to be, he doesn't much need it.Kelly's gotten awfully stinky. That diaper is in real need of a change, and he's not about to go and ask Abby to do it. She doesn't appear to be puking anymore (at least he's not hearing anything) but he's not calling her back in until he's got a squeaky clean and yummy smelling little girl in his hands.It takes a few minutes, but he eventually gets all of the baby changing gear on the floor right next to the crib. He gets clothing for Kelly all set. He puts the diaper trash can next to the whole set up. Now, all he has to do is get Kelly from inside her crib to on the floor, and then hope she agrees to just let him clean her up.She's looking up at him as he leans against the crib."Okay, Kelly, this is going to be a team effort."Other than her name, none of those words mean anything to her."You need to come to me, okay. Stand up, right here, right against the crib." He pats the edge of the crib, saying things like, "Right here. Up, Kelly, up."Eventually she decides to play along, scoots to the edge of the crib and stands up. He gets her against his side, one good arm wrapped around her, and manages to get her over the edge of the crib without catching her leg on the side too badly."Shit." He did not expect to be nearly this wobbly. He shifts again, back against the crib, and just lets himself slide down it. Kelly makes an excited sound because he went down faster than he intended."Never a dull moment at the McGee household." He'd rub his butt if he could. (He went down way faster than he intended to, and landed square on it.) Kelly's smiling at him. He gently puts her down and gets her onto the changing mat."Okay, baby, you've got to work with me on this. You try to go wandering off, and this isn't going to happen. So, I need you to just stay put."None of that means anything to her, either. But she's very interested in what's about to happen, because this is very much not her normal morning routine.He rolls her onto her back, and starts fighting with the snaps on her onesie. Those little bastards are just not opening. At all. If he had a knife he'd be cutting her out of the damn thing, but he doesn't. The snaps are at the crotch of her onesie, and that's an awfully full diaper, so he's not about to try and use his teeth to get it open.He's muttering about how there is no possible way he's the only father with one functional hand, and that somehow other parents have to have figured out ways to get fucking snaps open (Kelly's being very good about staying still, just chilling on her back, watching her Dad in amazement.) when he realizes that if he worms two fingers between two snaps and then spreads them apart, they'll pop open."Now we're getting somewhere. Up you go." He helps Kelly sit up and pulls the onesie off. Into the laundry hamper it goes. "And back down." Time to diaper wrestle.On the upside, those little paper Velcro-ish straps are a lot easier to get open one-handed than snaps. On the downside, he's now in charge of cleaning up a mess that would have made him mutter if he'd gone after it with two hands. One hand and he's shaking his head wondering why the hell he didn't just wait for Gibbs to get here.But, after only seven minutes, roughly 17,000 diaper wipes, and two false starts on the clean diaper, he does indeed have a cleaned up, dressed, and ready for the day baby sitting in his lap.Kelly's looking up at him, and he's probably reading his own feelings into her, but he feels like she's proud of him for having taken care of it. He know he's feeling more useful than he has in weeks."Now what?""Snoopy!"Tim nods, grabs his phone, gets Netflix up, finds the Peanuts section, and puts on Snoopy. They both sit there, watching the show until Gibbs shows up.Gibbs missed morning sickness. Shannon had it, but it was over by the time he got back. So, until Breena got pregnant with Molly and was tossing her cookies every five minutes, he had an, at best, nebulous concept of how exactly this worked.And then Breena did get sick. He knows there's a fancy term for really bad morning sickness, and he knows that Breena didn't have that. But he can't imagine how bad that stuff has to be, because what Breena had looked awful, and she was on medication to keep food and fluids inside of her.He's really hoping, on numerous levels, that this isn't what's going on with Abby. Primarily on the level of he doesn't want anyone he loves feeling sick for months at a time, but on a more practical level, if she is that bad off, he's basically moving in for the next however long because Tim really shouldn't be trying to carry anything until he can actually walk again, which, if Gibbs remembers right, is still about three weeks off.He debates getting there as fast as he can versus picking up some ginger ale and saltines on the way over.Getting there fast wins out. He can't imagine that Tim didn't text Jimmy, too, in search of the medication that makes Breena feel, not exactly better, but lets her keep food down, and he's got way more practice in the care and feeding of a morning sick woman than Gibbs does.So, in twenty-seven minutes he's pulling into Tim and Abby's driveway, hoping Abby's just dealing with feeling a little green in the morning, and Tim was patient enough not to do something stupid in an effort to be helpful.He finds Tim and Kelly first, in her bedroom, sitting on the floor, watching… "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown? Aren't you a few months off for that?""Pop!" Kelly says brightly as he sits next to them.Tim shrugs a little, handing Kelly over. "She's got no idea what season it is." Once the transfer is complete and Kelly's hugging Gibbs, Tim says, "Thank you."Gibbs surveys the set up around him and nods a bit. "Looks like you did okay."Tim rolls his eyes. "She's had her bottle but no solid food.""Okay." He kisses Kelly's head. "Come on, Kelly, let's get the rest of breakfast." Then he looks at Tim. "Can you get yourself off the floor?"He nods. "It'll take a while, but yeah. Then I'll go see if Abby's moved.""Want me to make her some tea and toast while I'm down there?"Tim shrugs. "If she feels like moving, I'm sure she'll come down.""Jimmy here soon?""Going to pack up the girls, get the meds, and come here. If you've got any idea what Abby did with my stuff when we got back, I had some of those pills on me when I got on the Stennis."Gibbs shakes his head. "Standard procedure, all medications are destroyed.""Great.""No way to tell what's really in them. We do it, too."Tim nods; he remembers that. "Yeah, okay. I'll go catch up with Abby." He starts to pull himself up.She's laying on the bathroom floor again, so he's guessing, "How are you feeling?" is a stupid question."Gibbs's here. Do you want him to make you some tea and toast?"Her eyes are closed, and she shakes her head."Want a blanket or some pjs or something?""PJs."Tim hobbles off in search of her loosest, softest, most comfy PJs. It takes a moment, but he finds them, slings them over his shoulder, and hobbles back."Here." He sits down near her, handing over the pjs.She sits up, slowly pulling on the black flannel jammie pants with the pink skulls on them, and one of his gray t-shirts. "I've had Goldschlager hangovers that were more fun than this."Tim winces. Like everyone else he did Goldschlager shots (okay, in his case shot) in college, and that stuff was wretched going down, coming back up isn't something he wants to imagine."Sorry."She shrugs. "Could have the flu." Then she sighs and slumps onto the floor, her forehead resting on his outstretched leg.He touches her forehead. "No fever. We had the same dinner. I'm not sick and neither is Kelly."She pouts, and he pets her hair. "Don't tell me I've got six more weeks of this crap."Tim doesn't say anything.They hear another car pull into their driveway, along with the sound of car doors opening, and Gibbs and Jimmy's voices, along with Molly's much higher-pitched one.A few minutes later, Jimmy's back up in Tim's room, calling out, "You guys up here?""In here," Abby says.Jimmy heads into the bathroom and jiggles a Target prescription bottle. "Got some goodies for you."Abby sits up, holding out her hand."Oh, you look like you feel like shit," he says as he hands over the pills.Abby nods slowly, getting the bottle open, peeling open the pill and putting it on her tongue. After thirty seconds, it's dissolved and she says, "At least, according to Breena, they work fast."Jimmy nods. "They do. But for her all they do is let her keep food down. They don't actually touch the feeling sick part of it."Abby's leaning heavily against Tim. "I've thrown up five times already this morning. I'll take just keeps food in place.""Okay." Jimmy kisses her forehead. "I'm meeting Breena, Tony and Ziva, and Ducky and Penny, at the diner. Jetho's gonna take Kelly and join us. You come if you want, lay around otherwise, okay?"Abby nods, that sounds pretty good."You want to come?" he says to Tim."I'll stick with Abby.""All right. As of last night, Ed and Collin are talking again, so we're tentatively on for church and Sunday dinner, too." Jimmy's not in his usual church suit, but he's also talking about hitting the diner earlier than usual, too, so he'll probably get dressed up after breakfast.Actually, given how many members of this group end up with food all over them each time they attempt to eat something, and then get it all over whichever adult is sitting next to them, casual breakfast first followed by getting dressed and then church is probably a good plan resulting in fewer outfits which have been hastily cleaned with diaper wipes."We'll text if we change plans."Tim sits with Abby, both of them quiet, resting. She's on his good side, and he's got his hand around her shoulders, so he can't pet her tummy, but he'd like to.He kisses her cheek."I read somewhere morning sickness is worse with boys than girls."She rolls her eyes at that."Yeah, I know it's an old wives tale." Another quiet moment. "Supposed to mean lots of hair, too.""He's not going to have a lot of hair. We're both green-eyed blondes, this is going to be another green-eyed blond.""Kelly's eyes are still pretty blue."Abby pokes him gently. "She's getting green-ish.""Uh huh." He says dryly, with a little smile. "It's a good thing I know your second-best-guy pretty well, and his kids.""Oh! You did not just say that!" She's shaking her head, and kneeling in front of him, mock appalled.He sticks out his tongue at her. "I think you're starting to feel better."That stops her for a second, and he can see her self-assessing, then she stands up, and says, "Yeah. I am. Okay, whatever this stuff is, tears of angels and unicorn manes, it's amazing. Also, I'm now officially horrified at how bad Breena's hurting when she's pregnant, because I actually am feeling fairly decent. I don't want to run a mile or anything, but I might want to try eating something. You want to go to the diner?""You want to be in a room filled with food?""Eh. I know Elaine will hook me up, right."Tim pushes himself off the floor. "Then let's go.""Oh, good Lord, look at you two. Sitting down first, then hugs!" Elaine says as they slowly make their way into the diner.They do get seated, and Elaine does provide hugs, and though the official reason why Tim and Abby weren't there was 'Tim's not feeling good' (After all, they aren't out about Abby being pregnant, yet.) she takes one look at the two of them, snatches the cup of coffee Tim's about to take a sip of, saying, "You'll be wanting decaf, right?"He nods at that, and she's back a few seconds later with a cup of decaf coffee for him and a tall glass of cool, (not cold, there's no ice in it) flat ginger ale."When are you due?"Abby smiles. "Beginning of February." She sips the ginger ale. "Thanks. This helps." Then she looks at Jimmy and Breena. "And those pillsreally help. And Breena, next time you get pregnant, I'm filling your freezer with food Jimmy's just got to heat up, because I set one foot into Kelly's room, smelled a whiff of formula and almost died. I'm sorry. I didn't get how bad you're hurting when you're sick. I've got a hint now, and we're doing what we can to keep you out of the kitchen next time."Breena smiles at that, kissing Abby's cheek. She and Abby and Elaine and Penny talk about the joys of morning sickness for a few minutes, then Elaine's son shows up with two more plates, very lightly buttered rye toast for Abby which she looks at curiously, but takes a nibble of and it seems to do the trick, and (Tim shakes his head when he sees it. He's eaten it here before, but not for years) a French toast and bacon sandwich for him.Once the food's down, Elaine looks them both over and says, "Gotta build you two back up if you're going to be ready to get chasing this little girl of yours around. She's gonna be walking any day now."Abby nods at that, and Tim smiles."Church?" Abby asks as she, Tim, and Kelly head home after breakfast."If you want to, sure. I'm good with skipping it though."Abby thinks about that. She is good with going. She's been doing a lot of praying lately, and spending some time in a church feels good to her."I'd like to go.""Then we'll go. Probably not going to want to do Slater-family supper after."Abby nods, she can easily see that being a bridge too far.He's staring at his closet as Abby meanders around the bedroom, getting dressed and made up, and Kelly plays on the floor.Tim's been wearing kilts a lot. Pretty much, with the exception of the morning he went into NCIS with Jimmy, he's been wearing kilts or the pj pants he works out in, because trying to get a broken and braced foot into a pair of non-stretchy trousers is a literal pain.So, he's staring at his suit, and thinking about how getting his foot into it will go. It's not like the legs are that tightly tailored, and it's not like he can't flex his foot into the right position to get the damn thing on, mostly it's just that he doesn't want to.He grabs his plaid kilt and tosses it onto their bed, along with a white button down, the green tie, and the black vest. For a second, he eyeballs his black suit jacket, and yes, right now he prefers button downs, only has to drag his arm through one sleeve that way, but threading his arm through a jacket in addition to the shirt… No.It's very much not what he wears to church normally, but it's dressier than usual, and it's July outside. It's hot as balls out there and an excuse to not wear a full suit strikes him as a good plan.After all, what's the worst thing Ed's going to do, stare and make a snide remark about the dragon tattoo and the skirt? Fuck that, Tim's done with it.The correct answer is Ed will do precisely nothing beyond shrug slightly at his brothers while Jeannie fusses over him. Which is when Tim remembers that Ed's seen him in this before and that it's not new and shocking, on any level, for him.Said brothers will give him the big hairy eyeball, looking over the tattoo and kilt, but when you're literally 'walking wounded' from an unnamed, top secret 'war gaming activity' the hairy eyeballs tend to skitter off to the side pretty quickly. Especially since the Slater family is a crew of people who have never served but are very pro-military. So, 'classified mission aboard the USS Stennis' (with Breena adding, 'That's a nuclear aircraft carrier.') were the magic words that ended any uncomfortable scrutiny of his wardrobe choices.And there is something deliciously satisfying about having the Pastor's husband come over to greet him as they are leaving, mention how they've all been praying for his quickly returned health, and then ask about the kilt, if it's comfortable, and suggest that it seemed like a very reasonable way to deal with the summertime heat.All in all, he was ready for a nap by the end of church, but it had been a very successful outing.Monday afternoon, Abby looks up from his report and says… "So, do you really want this little bit here in the 'Troubleshooting For Future Tests' section where is says, 'For optimal test results, avoid testing ships run by murderous child-abusing psychopaths'?"He thought he had deleted that bit two drafts ago. "Too much?"She nods. "I mean, if you want to write that into a version that just Jarvis gets, fine, but for wider distribution, I'd probably just stick with your bit about how using your hack through the Norfolk computer hub allows the tester to avoid setting foot on the actual ship/ships in question, thus providing a completely blind test."He had come to the conclusion that for optimal testing data and results it was probably much better to hack both the ship and the security feed from land and just keep watch from afar. Pretty much, it's not impossible that should someone get onto a ship and everything go haywire, especially if it's a small ship, that person might end up having a very bad day, and Tim's thinking that it's a good plan to make sure no other tester has to deal with that issue.Tim nods."You really sure about this?""I'll rewrite, but yeah, I'm sure.""Good. I was actually asking about you wanting to go in tomorrow.""Oh. Yeah. I want to get back. I'm going crazy, and it looks like I've got enough of my brain back that I can at least read reports and maybe write some. I can supervise and problem solve. Friday's supposed to be my last day on the Tylenol 3, if I bite the bullet and stop on Thursday, maybe I'll be able to do some real work on Monday."Abby smiles at him. "You get sore or tired or start to feel off—""I'll have Jethro take me home.""Okay. Bright and early tomorrow morning, back to NCIS."Tim smiles at that, pulls out his phone, and sends out an email to his Minions and the wider NCIS Cybertechs. He's back in tomorrow morning, and he'll be providing a quick get up to date briefing once he gets there.So, on Tuesday, July 5th, two full weeks before he's supposed to be doing anything other than taking an hour or so a day to log in and make sure the building didn't catch fire, Tim hobbles into work. Very, very many promises that if he gets tired or sore he'll call Gibbs and get an immediate ride home, in addition to the fact that he's only going in for a half day, were required to get Abby to take him in, but finally she agreed and only almost took him home again twice when the car bumped over different pot holes and he winced.But, he limps into his office, where the ten of the techs who are in the office flood in to say hello, welcome him back, and gape openly at how beat up he still looks weeks after the fight. He gets his computer up and running, and gets the camera feed up, so he can talk to everyone.The ones in his office are milling around, staring, but trying not to. He can see another 90 of his team members are logged in, but because so many of them are online, they can see him, but he can't see them. He assumes they're staring, too. His bruises have faded, but his right arm's in a cast, he's got a brace on his left foot, a crutch leaning against his desk, and a newly split eyebrow. He smiles at them, says, "Just look all you want and get over it. And then I want you to understand that this is why you will have your gun and martial arts proficiencies. I didn't have my gun. I did have my fists, and I'm alive because of that. You're ever in my place, I want you to come out alive, too. Okay?"They all nod, really shocked."I can't say what I was actually doing. I know you all have theories, and I know you've figured out it wasn't a 'conference,' and that I was not in a car accident, but that's all I'm saying about what I was actually doing. Though, if any of you know what I was doing, not have a theory, or feel like you figured it out from clues, but if you did the research and know drop by for a private chat or email me, and we'll arrange your paid day off.""You want us barging into your private life?" Manner asks.Tim smiles at that. "No. I'd prefer you didn't. But if any of you did track it down, that would have taken some persistence and out-of-the-box thinking, and I reward that. Which is not me saying, go find out. If you don't know by now, leave it alone. If you do know… well you know, don't spread it around, it's private. And likewise, if anything even remotely like this happens in the future, leave it alone! I do stuff you're all better off not knowing about, so don't find out. And if any of you go snooping in the future and I find out, you won't be getting cookies for it." He gives them all his fear of Boss look, and they stop staring at him, looking away, so he figures he's done well with it.He nods at the target with the smiley face shot into it, then moves the camera so the rest of the crew can see it. "There's a reason why I want all of you to be able to do that. What I was doing was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be routine. It wasn't safe. It wasn'troutine. They almost killed me. They didn't. And they didn't because I knew how to fight. I want you to know, too."He shifts the camera back to him. "Not saying it's a guarantee of safety or anything, not saying you'll make it out or come back in one piece, but if you can't win, you can at least take as many of the bastards with you as you can. Someone lays hands on you, you make 'em pay for it, right?"They all nod at him."Okay, let's get back to work. I'm still really slow, and at noon they'll drag me out of here and make me get a nap, but it's a start."Three hours later, when Gibbs comes in to get him, Tim is amazed at how tired he is. All he did was wade through more emails. Not like he actually used his brain for much, but he's exhausted. He's giving Abby a run for her money on tired right now. Gibbs smiles at him when he dozes off in the car on the way home, and gently gets him up when they get home.Tim eyeballs the steps up to his bed, feels the ache deep in his foot and shoulder, and decides he's not going to try to get up the steps to finish his nap. He turns toward his office and Gibbs looks curious. "Everything aches," Tim says by way of explanation."Orthopedic specialist again on Friday. See what he says."Tim nods, easing onto his futon. "Rest, ice, take it easy, let yourself heal up, keep weight off of it. I know what he's going to say. You sticking around?""Little while at least. Play with Kelly some. Take her and Mona out for a run or something. Give Heather a break. Go get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up.""Okay. Jethro, thanks. For all of this."He sitting on the futon next to Tim. "No problem. Hit the pool when you wake up?""Yeah, if you want."
Next
Chapter 406: Sick
On Sunday, Tim wakes up to something other than the fierce ache of time for more pain medication. He wakes to the sound of retching, and Abby saying, "Oh god."It takes him a bit, but he gets his crutch, and into the bathroom, where Abby is kneeling next to the toilet, skin ashy, hair sweaty, and looking utterly miserable."Are you okay?""No," Abby looks like she's about to say something about asking stupid questions, but her body has other ideas, and she's retching again. He hobbles over, slowly gets himself sitting on the floor, and gently pets her back.When the spasms pass, she looks up at him and says, "I'm going to die," and begins to retch again. He gently rubs her back again. In all the time they've known each other, he's never seen her get any sort of tummy bug. Then he realizes this isn't a tummy bug, and smiles, but in a way where there's no shot of her seeing him do it.He lumbers up, gets her a Dixie cup of cool water so she can rise her mouth, and rubs her back again as she sits back on the floor."You didn't have that conversation about no morning sickness with Sean, did you?" he asks as he works one of the anti-nausea points on her wrist."Didn't think I needed to." She looks at her tummy. "No making Mom puke, you hear?"Ten minutes later, when she was throwing up again, it became fairly clear that Sean appears to be indifferent to said command.Tim's been more than annoyed at his current physical limitations, but right now he wants to scream. Abby's throwing up, Kelly's fussing, and he can't really help either of them.He hobbles into Kelly's room, talking to her, telling her good morning and stuff like that, but he can't pick her up because he needs the crutch to stand and he needs the only arm that works to use the crutch.Okay, there has got to be a way to do this. Kelly's melting down, she's hungry and upset, and him just standing there, shushing her is not getting the job done. The changing table is literally three steps away from the crib. Once there, he can get her cleaned up (he hopes) and get the snuggli in place (maybe) get her into the snuggli (err… yeah, this is sounding like a worse and worse idea by the moment) and then get them downstairs to where the bottles are and she can start breakfast.He nods at that plan, rests the crutch on the side of the crib, shifting weight to try to pick her up, and then mentally slaps himself upside the back of the head for being an idiot. Kelly is yelling because she is hungry. Fix the main problem, hungry, and the smaller problems (still in crib, wet diaper) won't bug her so much."I will be back in a minute." He grabs the crutch again, and she fusses even louder, appalled at the idea of him leaving her in her crib. He quick times it (just about normal walking speed) to the stairs, slides the crutch down, gets himself down, hobbles to the kitchen, makes up the bottle, tucks it between his cast arm and his stomach, and hobbles back up.Kelly's yelling even louder, but she's rapidly mollified when she sees what he's got."I know we don't usually do it this way, but I don't want to drop you," he says, handing her the bottle so she can eat in bed.She snatches the bottle and starts gulping quickly. Tim sees she's set, currently occupied, and heads back to his room in search of PJ pants, and more importantly, his phone.He sends off his first text to Gibbs: Help! Need an extra set of hands as soon as you can get here.The next text goes to Jimmy: If I can find those anti-nausea pills you gave me, can I give one to Abby?Jimmy gets back to him first. Yes. Do you have them handy?No idea. Don't know where anything besides my computer ended up.The girls and I are already up. I'll get a script written and filled for Abby. I take it morning sickness came to visit?No fever, throwing up, wishing she's dead.Sounds like morning sickness. Got any saltines? Flat ginger ale?I know the routine.There's a minute long pause while Tim struggles into his PJ pants and tells Abby what he's doing while she lies on her side on the bathroom floor.On my way. Pops up on his phone from Gibbs.Thanks. Abby's feeling sick, and I shouldn't get Kelly out of her crib.Stay put. I'll be there soon.Abby pushes herself up, sways a little, but gets standing. "I think I'm done.""Good."She heads toward Kelly's room, still looking shaky, and Tim follows behind, not sure what the hell he's going to be useful for, but going along anyway.Apparently what he's going to be useful for is getting in the way. Abby gets in there, catches one whiff of the formula that Kelly starts her day with, and is sprinting out again, practically running him over, back to the bathroom and dry heaving.Tim closes his eyes, sighs, and heads into the nursery. "I'm going to hang out here with you."Kelly smiles at him, bottle in her hand, she's content to hang out in her crib.Gibbs lives half an hour away. Even assuming he hopped directly out of bed and drove like a maniac, it'd still take at least eighteen minutes to get to Tim and Abby's.And Tim can't just sit there, doing not much of anything useful for that long.So, he devises another plan. He needs the crutch to go from point A to point B. Once he's where he needs to be, he doesn't much need it.Kelly's gotten awfully stinky. That diaper is in real need of a change, and he's not about to go and ask Abby to do it. She doesn't appear to be puking anymore (at least he's not hearing anything) but he's not calling her back in until he's got a squeaky clean and yummy smelling little girl in his hands.It takes a few minutes, but he eventually gets all of the baby changing gear on the floor right next to the crib. He gets clothing for Kelly all set. He puts the diaper trash can next to the whole set up. Now, all he has to do is get Kelly from inside her crib to on the floor, and then hope she agrees to just let him clean her up.She's looking up at him as he leans against the crib."Okay, Kelly, this is going to be a team effort."Other than her name, none of those words mean anything to her."You need to come to me, okay. Stand up, right here, right against the crib." He pats the edge of the crib, saying things like, "Right here. Up, Kelly, up."Eventually she decides to play along, scoots to the edge of the crib and stands up. He gets her against his side, one good arm wrapped around her, and manages to get her over the edge of the crib without catching her leg on the side too badly."Shit." He did not expect to be nearly this wobbly. He shifts again, back against the crib, and just lets himself slide down it. Kelly makes an excited sound because he went down faster than he intended."Never a dull moment at the McGee household." He'd rub his butt if he could. (He went down way faster than he intended to, and landed square on it.) Kelly's smiling at him. He gently puts her down and gets her onto the changing mat."Okay, baby, you've got to work with me on this. You try to go wandering off, and this isn't going to happen. So, I need you to just stay put."None of that means anything to her, either. But she's very interested in what's about to happen, because this is very much not her normal morning routine.He rolls her onto her back, and starts fighting with the snaps on her onesie. Those little bastards are just not opening. At all. If he had a knife he'd be cutting her out of the damn thing, but he doesn't. The snaps are at the crotch of her onesie, and that's an awfully full diaper, so he's not about to try and use his teeth to get it open.He's muttering about how there is no possible way he's the only father with one functional hand, and that somehow other parents have to have figured out ways to get fucking snaps open (Kelly's being very good about staying still, just chilling on her back, watching her Dad in amazement.) when he realizes that if he worms two fingers between two snaps and then spreads them apart, they'll pop open."Now we're getting somewhere. Up you go." He helps Kelly sit up and pulls the onesie off. Into the laundry hamper it goes. "And back down." Time to diaper wrestle.On the upside, those little paper Velcro-ish straps are a lot easier to get open one-handed than snaps. On the downside, he's now in charge of cleaning up a mess that would have made him mutter if he'd gone after it with two hands. One hand and he's shaking his head wondering why the hell he didn't just wait for Gibbs to get here.But, after only seven minutes, roughly 17,000 diaper wipes, and two false starts on the clean diaper, he does indeed have a cleaned up, dressed, and ready for the day baby sitting in his lap.Kelly's looking up at him, and he's probably reading his own feelings into her, but he feels like she's proud of him for having taken care of it. He know he's feeling more useful than he has in weeks."Now what?""Snoopy!"Tim nods, grabs his phone, gets Netflix up, finds the Peanuts section, and puts on Snoopy. They both sit there, watching the show until Gibbs shows up.Gibbs missed morning sickness. Shannon had it, but it was over by the time he got back. So, until Breena got pregnant with Molly and was tossing her cookies every five minutes, he had an, at best, nebulous concept of how exactly this worked.And then Breena did get sick. He knows there's a fancy term for really bad morning sickness, and he knows that Breena didn't have that. But he can't imagine how bad that stuff has to be, because what Breena had looked awful, and she was on medication to keep food and fluids inside of her.He's really hoping, on numerous levels, that this isn't what's going on with Abby. Primarily on the level of he doesn't want anyone he loves feeling sick for months at a time, but on a more practical level, if she is that bad off, he's basically moving in for the next however long because Tim really shouldn't be trying to carry anything until he can actually walk again, which, if Gibbs remembers right, is still about three weeks off.He debates getting there as fast as he can versus picking up some ginger ale and saltines on the way over.Getting there fast wins out. He can't imagine that Tim didn't text Jimmy, too, in search of the medication that makes Breena feel, not exactly better, but lets her keep food down, and he's got way more practice in the care and feeding of a morning sick woman than Gibbs does.So, in twenty-seven minutes he's pulling into Tim and Abby's driveway, hoping Abby's just dealing with feeling a little green in the morning, and Tim was patient enough not to do something stupid in an effort to be helpful.He finds Tim and Kelly first, in her bedroom, sitting on the floor, watching… "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown? Aren't you a few months off for that?""Pop!" Kelly says brightly as he sits next to them.Tim shrugs a little, handing Kelly over. "She's got no idea what season it is." Once the transfer is complete and Kelly's hugging Gibbs, Tim says, "Thank you."Gibbs surveys the set up around him and nods a bit. "Looks like you did okay."Tim rolls his eyes. "She's had her bottle but no solid food.""Okay." He kisses Kelly's head. "Come on, Kelly, let's get the rest of breakfast." Then he looks at Tim. "Can you get yourself off the floor?"He nods. "It'll take a while, but yeah. Then I'll go see if Abby's moved.""Want me to make her some tea and toast while I'm down there?"Tim shrugs. "If she feels like moving, I'm sure she'll come down.""Jimmy here soon?""Going to pack up the girls, get the meds, and come here. If you've got any idea what Abby did with my stuff when we got back, I had some of those pills on me when I got on the Stennis."Gibbs shakes his head. "Standard procedure, all medications are destroyed.""Great.""No way to tell what's really in them. We do it, too."Tim nods; he remembers that. "Yeah, okay. I'll go catch up with Abby." He starts to pull himself up.She's laying on the bathroom floor again, so he's guessing, "How are you feeling?" is a stupid question."Gibbs's here. Do you want him to make you some tea and toast?"Her eyes are closed, and she shakes her head."Want a blanket or some pjs or something?""PJs."Tim hobbles off in search of her loosest, softest, most comfy PJs. It takes a moment, but he finds them, slings them over his shoulder, and hobbles back."Here." He sits down near her, handing over the pjs.She sits up, slowly pulling on the black flannel jammie pants with the pink skulls on them, and one of his gray t-shirts. "I've had Goldschlager hangovers that were more fun than this."Tim winces. Like everyone else he did Goldschlager shots (okay, in his case shot) in college, and that stuff was wretched going down, coming back up isn't something he wants to imagine."Sorry."She shrugs. "Could have the flu." Then she sighs and slumps onto the floor, her forehead resting on his outstretched leg.He touches her forehead. "No fever. We had the same dinner. I'm not sick and neither is Kelly."She pouts, and he pets her hair. "Don't tell me I've got six more weeks of this crap."Tim doesn't say anything.They hear another car pull into their driveway, along with the sound of car doors opening, and Gibbs and Jimmy's voices, along with Molly's much higher-pitched one.A few minutes later, Jimmy's back up in Tim's room, calling out, "You guys up here?""In here," Abby says.Jimmy heads into the bathroom and jiggles a Target prescription bottle. "Got some goodies for you."Abby sits up, holding out her hand."Oh, you look like you feel like shit," he says as he hands over the pills.Abby nods slowly, getting the bottle open, peeling open the pill and putting it on her tongue. After thirty seconds, it's dissolved and she says, "At least, according to Breena, they work fast."Jimmy nods. "They do. But for her all they do is let her keep food down. They don't actually touch the feeling sick part of it."Abby's leaning heavily against Tim. "I've thrown up five times already this morning. I'll take just keeps food in place.""Okay." Jimmy kisses her forehead. "I'm meeting Breena, Tony and Ziva, and Ducky and Penny, at the diner. Jetho's gonna take Kelly and join us. You come if you want, lay around otherwise, okay?"Abby nods, that sounds pretty good."You want to come?" he says to Tim."I'll stick with Abby.""All right. As of last night, Ed and Collin are talking again, so we're tentatively on for church and Sunday dinner, too." Jimmy's not in his usual church suit, but he's also talking about hitting the diner earlier than usual, too, so he'll probably get dressed up after breakfast.Actually, given how many members of this group end up with food all over them each time they attempt to eat something, and then get it all over whichever adult is sitting next to them, casual breakfast first followed by getting dressed and then church is probably a good plan resulting in fewer outfits which have been hastily cleaned with diaper wipes."We'll text if we change plans."Tim sits with Abby, both of them quiet, resting. She's on his good side, and he's got his hand around her shoulders, so he can't pet her tummy, but he'd like to.He kisses her cheek."I read somewhere morning sickness is worse with boys than girls."She rolls her eyes at that."Yeah, I know it's an old wives tale." Another quiet moment. "Supposed to mean lots of hair, too.""He's not going to have a lot of hair. We're both green-eyed blondes, this is going to be another green-eyed blond.""Kelly's eyes are still pretty blue."Abby pokes him gently. "She's getting green-ish.""Uh huh." He says dryly, with a little smile. "It's a good thing I know your second-best-guy pretty well, and his kids.""Oh! You did not just say that!" She's shaking her head, and kneeling in front of him, mock appalled.He sticks out his tongue at her. "I think you're starting to feel better."That stops her for a second, and he can see her self-assessing, then she stands up, and says, "Yeah. I am. Okay, whatever this stuff is, tears of angels and unicorn manes, it's amazing. Also, I'm now officially horrified at how bad Breena's hurting when she's pregnant, because I actually am feeling fairly decent. I don't want to run a mile or anything, but I might want to try eating something. You want to go to the diner?""You want to be in a room filled with food?""Eh. I know Elaine will hook me up, right."Tim pushes himself off the floor. "Then let's go.""Oh, good Lord, look at you two. Sitting down first, then hugs!" Elaine says as they slowly make their way into the diner.They do get seated, and Elaine does provide hugs, and though the official reason why Tim and Abby weren't there was 'Tim's not feeling good' (After all, they aren't out about Abby being pregnant, yet.) she takes one look at the two of them, snatches the cup of coffee Tim's about to take a sip of, saying, "You'll be wanting decaf, right?"He nods at that, and she's back a few seconds later with a cup of decaf coffee for him and a tall glass of cool, (not cold, there's no ice in it) flat ginger ale."When are you due?"Abby smiles. "Beginning of February." She sips the ginger ale. "Thanks. This helps." Then she looks at Jimmy and Breena. "And those pillsreally help. And Breena, next time you get pregnant, I'm filling your freezer with food Jimmy's just got to heat up, because I set one foot into Kelly's room, smelled a whiff of formula and almost died. I'm sorry. I didn't get how bad you're hurting when you're sick. I've got a hint now, and we're doing what we can to keep you out of the kitchen next time."Breena smiles at that, kissing Abby's cheek. She and Abby and Elaine and Penny talk about the joys of morning sickness for a few minutes, then Elaine's son shows up with two more plates, very lightly buttered rye toast for Abby which she looks at curiously, but takes a nibble of and it seems to do the trick, and (Tim shakes his head when he sees it. He's eaten it here before, but not for years) a French toast and bacon sandwich for him.Once the food's down, Elaine looks them both over and says, "Gotta build you two back up if you're going to be ready to get chasing this little girl of yours around. She's gonna be walking any day now."Abby nods at that, and Tim smiles."Church?" Abby asks as she, Tim, and Kelly head home after breakfast."If you want to, sure. I'm good with skipping it though."Abby thinks about that. She is good with going. She's been doing a lot of praying lately, and spending some time in a church feels good to her."I'd like to go.""Then we'll go. Probably not going to want to do Slater-family supper after."Abby nods, she can easily see that being a bridge too far.He's staring at his closet as Abby meanders around the bedroom, getting dressed and made up, and Kelly plays on the floor.Tim's been wearing kilts a lot. Pretty much, with the exception of the morning he went into NCIS with Jimmy, he's been wearing kilts or the pj pants he works out in, because trying to get a broken and braced foot into a pair of non-stretchy trousers is a literal pain.So, he's staring at his suit, and thinking about how getting his foot into it will go. It's not like the legs are that tightly tailored, and it's not like he can't flex his foot into the right position to get the damn thing on, mostly it's just that he doesn't want to.He grabs his plaid kilt and tosses it onto their bed, along with a white button down, the green tie, and the black vest. For a second, he eyeballs his black suit jacket, and yes, right now he prefers button downs, only has to drag his arm through one sleeve that way, but threading his arm through a jacket in addition to the shirt… No.It's very much not what he wears to church normally, but it's dressier than usual, and it's July outside. It's hot as balls out there and an excuse to not wear a full suit strikes him as a good plan.After all, what's the worst thing Ed's going to do, stare and make a snide remark about the dragon tattoo and the skirt? Fuck that, Tim's done with it.The correct answer is Ed will do precisely nothing beyond shrug slightly at his brothers while Jeannie fusses over him. Which is when Tim remembers that Ed's seen him in this before and that it's not new and shocking, on any level, for him.Said brothers will give him the big hairy eyeball, looking over the tattoo and kilt, but when you're literally 'walking wounded' from an unnamed, top secret 'war gaming activity' the hairy eyeballs tend to skitter off to the side pretty quickly. Especially since the Slater family is a crew of people who have never served but are very pro-military. So, 'classified mission aboard the USS Stennis' (with Breena adding, 'That's a nuclear aircraft carrier.') were the magic words that ended any uncomfortable scrutiny of his wardrobe choices.And there is something deliciously satisfying about having the Pastor's husband come over to greet him as they are leaving, mention how they've all been praying for his quickly returned health, and then ask about the kilt, if it's comfortable, and suggest that it seemed like a very reasonable way to deal with the summertime heat.All in all, he was ready for a nap by the end of church, but it had been a very successful outing.Monday afternoon, Abby looks up from his report and says… "So, do you really want this little bit here in the 'Troubleshooting For Future Tests' section where is says, 'For optimal test results, avoid testing ships run by murderous child-abusing psychopaths'?"He thought he had deleted that bit two drafts ago. "Too much?"She nods. "I mean, if you want to write that into a version that just Jarvis gets, fine, but for wider distribution, I'd probably just stick with your bit about how using your hack through the Norfolk computer hub allows the tester to avoid setting foot on the actual ship/ships in question, thus providing a completely blind test."He had come to the conclusion that for optimal testing data and results it was probably much better to hack both the ship and the security feed from land and just keep watch from afar. Pretty much, it's not impossible that should someone get onto a ship and everything go haywire, especially if it's a small ship, that person might end up having a very bad day, and Tim's thinking that it's a good plan to make sure no other tester has to deal with that issue.Tim nods."You really sure about this?""I'll rewrite, but yeah, I'm sure.""Good. I was actually asking about you wanting to go in tomorrow.""Oh. Yeah. I want to get back. I'm going crazy, and it looks like I've got enough of my brain back that I can at least read reports and maybe write some. I can supervise and problem solve. Friday's supposed to be my last day on the Tylenol 3, if I bite the bullet and stop on Thursday, maybe I'll be able to do some real work on Monday."Abby smiles at him. "You get sore or tired or start to feel off—""I'll have Jethro take me home.""Okay. Bright and early tomorrow morning, back to NCIS."Tim smiles at that, pulls out his phone, and sends out an email to his Minions and the wider NCIS Cybertechs. He's back in tomorrow morning, and he'll be providing a quick get up to date briefing once he gets there.So, on Tuesday, July 5th, two full weeks before he's supposed to be doing anything other than taking an hour or so a day to log in and make sure the building didn't catch fire, Tim hobbles into work. Very, very many promises that if he gets tired or sore he'll call Gibbs and get an immediate ride home, in addition to the fact that he's only going in for a half day, were required to get Abby to take him in, but finally she agreed and only almost took him home again twice when the car bumped over different pot holes and he winced.But, he limps into his office, where the ten of the techs who are in the office flood in to say hello, welcome him back, and gape openly at how beat up he still looks weeks after the fight. He gets his computer up and running, and gets the camera feed up, so he can talk to everyone.The ones in his office are milling around, staring, but trying not to. He can see another 90 of his team members are logged in, but because so many of them are online, they can see him, but he can't see them. He assumes they're staring, too. His bruises have faded, but his right arm's in a cast, he's got a brace on his left foot, a crutch leaning against his desk, and a newly split eyebrow. He smiles at them, says, "Just look all you want and get over it. And then I want you to understand that this is why you will have your gun and martial arts proficiencies. I didn't have my gun. I did have my fists, and I'm alive because of that. You're ever in my place, I want you to come out alive, too. Okay?"They all nod, really shocked."I can't say what I was actually doing. I know you all have theories, and I know you've figured out it wasn't a 'conference,' and that I was not in a car accident, but that's all I'm saying about what I was actually doing. Though, if any of you know what I was doing, not have a theory, or feel like you figured it out from clues, but if you did the research and know drop by for a private chat or email me, and we'll arrange your paid day off.""You want us barging into your private life?" Manner asks.Tim smiles at that. "No. I'd prefer you didn't. But if any of you did track it down, that would have taken some persistence and out-of-the-box thinking, and I reward that. Which is not me saying, go find out. If you don't know by now, leave it alone. If you do know… well you know, don't spread it around, it's private. And likewise, if anything even remotely like this happens in the future, leave it alone! I do stuff you're all better off not knowing about, so don't find out. And if any of you go snooping in the future and I find out, you won't be getting cookies for it." He gives them all his fear of Boss look, and they stop staring at him, looking away, so he figures he's done well with it.He nods at the target with the smiley face shot into it, then moves the camera so the rest of the crew can see it. "There's a reason why I want all of you to be able to do that. What I was doing was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be routine. It wasn't safe. It wasn'troutine. They almost killed me. They didn't. And they didn't because I knew how to fight. I want you to know, too."He shifts the camera back to him. "Not saying it's a guarantee of safety or anything, not saying you'll make it out or come back in one piece, but if you can't win, you can at least take as many of the bastards with you as you can. Someone lays hands on you, you make 'em pay for it, right?"They all nod at him."Okay, let's get back to work. I'm still really slow, and at noon they'll drag me out of here and make me get a nap, but it's a start."Three hours later, when Gibbs comes in to get him, Tim is amazed at how tired he is. All he did was wade through more emails. Not like he actually used his brain for much, but he's exhausted. He's giving Abby a run for her money on tired right now. Gibbs smiles at him when he dozes off in the car on the way home, and gently gets him up when they get home.Tim eyeballs the steps up to his bed, feels the ache deep in his foot and shoulder, and decides he's not going to try to get up the steps to finish his nap. He turns toward his office and Gibbs looks curious. "Everything aches," Tim says by way of explanation."Orthopedic specialist again on Friday. See what he says."Tim nods, easing onto his futon. "Rest, ice, take it easy, let yourself heal up, keep weight off of it. I know what he's going to say. You sticking around?""Little while at least. Play with Kelly some. Take her and Mona out for a run or something. Give Heather a break. Go get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up.""Okay. Jethro, thanks. For all of this."He sitting on the futon next to Tim. "No problem. Hit the pool when you wake up?""Yeah, if you want."
Next
January 25, 2015
Shards To A Whole: Chapter 404: Words
McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.
Chapter 404: Words
"So this is what you two do when I'm out?" wakes Jimmy out of his doze.
He looks up and sees Abby grinning at him, and promptly realizes he's in bed, in her bed, with Tim, and apparently was asleep.
He stretches a little, sees that Tim's still asleep, and notices his phone on the bed next to him. What happened starts to slide back into his mind: bed, comfy, boring reading, somewhat dim light, sound of rain, and off to sleep he went.
He rubs his eyes, sees Abby still grinning. She gets (gently, Tim's still asleep) into the bed, between them, and quietly says, while poking Jimmy, and still grinning. "So…" She's enjoying this way too much. "What sort of fun did you two get up to that got you so tired out?"
Jimmy rolls his eyes, but notices that Tim settles in against Abby. He doesn't appear to have woken up, but he knows she's near and has snuggled in closer. He smiles a little at that. Breena does that when he comes home late and slips into bed without waking her.
"Kelly?" Jimmy asks.
"Naptime for her, too. I was just going to crash. You want to hang out here, you're welcome."
Jimmy checks the clock, little before two. He shakes his head. "Nah. Gotta eat." He sits up and stretches. "MOPs'll be done by the time I get home. Play with my girls some, and do some more studying."
Abby kisses his cheek. "Have fun."
Jimmy smiles, tucking his phone back into his pocket and slipping his feet into his shoes. "I will."
Breena's in an exceptionally good mood when he gets home.
"Hi." He kisses her before heading through the living room to the coat closet by the front door. The trashed living room. He gets the point of the MOPs group. How they alternate between each other's houses, so seven weeks out of eight, Breena gets some time to socialize with other adult women with kids, have a good cup of coffee, yummy snacks, and what she refers to as 'girl talk', the kids can run around and wreck someone else's house, and having eight sets of adult eyes to watch fourteen kids is a hell of a lot easier than one set of eyes and two kids.
So he gets it, but, Lord, his living room looks like a tornado went through it. They're gonna need Federal disaster relief to get this cleaned up.
"I take it, it was a good meet?" He tosses his shoes into the closet and heads back to where she is, at the kitchen table, looking over the PL statements for the last quarter for Slaters'.
She smiles up at him, and he kisses her again.
"Good meeting, and Abby just sent me the cutest photo ever." There's a massive grin on her face.
Jimmy rolls his eyes again, and heads to the fridge. "She took pictures?" It's possible he sounds a tad whiny at that.
"Of course!"
He opens the door. "You want anything?"
"Nah. Everyone brings food, and Elise made it this week…" He knows Elise is the baker, and when she comes she always brings some sort of amazing, high calorie, chocolate-intensive thing that the girls regret eating but usually snarf down in about ten seconds. Elise runs a bakery that handles catering a lot of the post-viewing/post-funeral wakes that Slaters' throws.
Actually, he thinks about it more, a lot of those women run businesses that work with Slaters'.
Ed and his brothers are part of a bunch of businessmen's groups, where they get together and do whatever it is they do over golf and beer or whatever. Jimmy's fuzzy on the details what with never having attended any of those meetings. He's heard the extended Slater clan talking about it at Sunday dinner, though, and it sounds very nineteenth century.
Breena and her friends are doing the same thing, at home, while watching kids. Pulling this tradition into the twenty-first century and multi-tasking it.
Jimmy closes the fridge door, and heads over to Breena. He hugs her from behind, and she absently tilts her head, the way she usually does when she's expecting a kiss, but paying attention to something else. He shifts over a step, tilts her head toward him so she's looking into his eyes and says, "I don't tell you how amazing you are nearly often enough."
She smiles at that. "What's bringing this on?"
"You." He kisses her again.
"I'm really not bugged by you catching a nap with Tim."
"Huh?" He pulls back, confused.
"I'm cool with it, you don't have to get extra sweet with me because of it."
"Uh… Okay." His eyebrows furrow. He doesn't think that's what he's doing. He thinks for another second. "No. That's not happening. I was thinking about how you're handling the girls and your business all at once, and how you're just on top of everything."
She looks very pleased by that. "Oh! In that case, yes, I'm awesome." She grins at him again, and he gently shoves her shoulder, heading back to the fridge and locate lunch.
"I saved the lettuce wraps Chloe brought to the meeting."
"Mmmm…" He sees them and grabs them. "You really are awesome." He doesn't know how she makes them, some sort of secret recipe that shall not be divulged, but they're hummus and red peppers and black olives and pine nuts all mixed into some sort of paste with a bunch of yummy herbs wrapped up in romaine lettuce and if he ever had leftovers he'd take them to Abby and ask her to analyze them so he could make them for himself. But he's never had the self-control to have leftovers.
He sits down next to her, happily chewing. "So, you think I'm being extra sweet to you for catching a nap with Tim?"
She shrugs. "Wasn't sure entirely what that eye roll was. Hoping you're not feeling guilty."
Now he's slightly alarmed. "What the hell do you think we did?"
"Slept."
Okay, that's right. "Then why would I be guilty?"
"I don't know? You shouldn't be. It's not a big deal."
"I'm not. And you're acting like it's a big deal."
"There was some edge in the way you shrugged at me."
Jimmy thinks about that. Some edge with Abby, too. Okay, why? "Irked," he says after a few seconds. "You and Abby are petting and praising me like I'm a toddler who successfully peed in the potty."
Breena lights up. "Not to derail this, because this is important, but I might forget to tell you otherwise…" Jimmy nods. They have a lot of conversations where they start on one topic, flip over to another one, and eventually get back to the original one. Just part of busy lives, two full-time jobs, parenting, friending, and all the rest of it. "Molly did successfully notice she had to go, stopped playing with her toys, and got to the potty in time."
He smiles at that. "Way to go, little girl!" Molly, if asked, will make it to the potty in time, but if she's doing something she finds interesting, she usually doesn't notice that she has to go until she's sitting in a puddle. "Have to do something special for that."
"Already in place. Rented a new episodes of the Hoobs. When she wakes up…"
"She gets to see the new episode as a reward, and we've got a quiet twenty minutes to get the living room tidied up."
Breena nods. "That's the plan."
"Okay, good. I can do that." Jimmy waits for a beat, sees Breena's done with that, and shifts gears from dad and back to lover. "However, the point I was making… comforting someone you love when they're hurting shouldn't get you a medal."
"Yeah. It's… I don't know, kind of related to that, but not that. It's not you taking care of him, though that's good, too. It's… Okay, if wherever we go next involves sex, it'd be a lot easier if you and Tim are physically comfortable with each other. I know you don't want to fuck each other. And, I'm not talking about that, or you guys ever going there, but if you can be close and touch without freaking out, that makes everything easier."
Jimmy hadn't thought about that. In fact, any of the physical mechanics of the four of them that involve him with Tim, he hasn't been thinking about. "And that's why you and Abby think me snoozing next to him is cool?"
"You haven't seen the picture, have you?"
"I was there."
"Uh huh." Breena knows how Jimmy wakes up from naps. He's usually out of it enough he doesn't know his name. She pulls out her phone, opens the shot and shows it to Jimmy. It's exactly what he's expecting. He drifted off reading, sitting against the headboard, but apparently he slumped down, so he's back on the bed, in his usual arms and legs akimbo sleeping position, one hand on Tim's neck.
He looks up at her. "Uh, yeah. He was having a hard time." Jimmy sighs. "Look, I'm the fucking moron who put him in the morgue to take x-rays. Understandably enough, that freaked him out. We spent some time with him in his office working, once he got tired, I got him home for a nap, he was still a little freaked out so I sat next to him, and, I can't put my hand on his shoulder. He's got it in a cast, and the damn thing still hurts, so yes, I'm holding his neck."
Breena smiles. "It's sweet."
He rolls his eyes again. "It's not a big deal."
"Yes and no. No, comforting a friend isn't a big deal. Allowing yourself to be comforted by a friend isn't a big deal. It's normal. People do it all the time. But, come on, could you touch Tony like that, in his bed?"
Jimmy shrugs. "Not right now." They're better, but there's also still an edge between them from the Jeanne thing. "I like to think that if he needed it, I could, but I'm fairly sure he'd never let me see that he needed it."
"What'd you do when things were going bad with Ziva? I know you were willing to hug her." Because last summer Ziva had stayed with them when she and Tony were in the weeds, and Jimmy had been willing and able to listen and offer hugs as needed, they both were.
Jimmy sighs, remembering. "Hand on his shoulder, or holding his hand. We were getting along as well as we ever had, and he was hurting worse than he ever had, and I didn't hug him."
Breena looks at him, smiles a little, and he nods. "Thinking about that some when Tim was sleeping. You're right, we're not friends. Tony's my friend, and I couldn't offer him that sort of comfort."
Breena nods.
"But I don't know what Tim and I are. I've got words for you and me. And, whatever happens with Abby, between us, or you two, there are words for that, too. Lover, girlfriend, wife, mistress, whatever. But I don't have words for Tim. I love him more than anyone who isn't you or the girls, but…I don't want to have sex with him. If it'd have been Abby or Ziva, or any other reasonably in shape woman in bed with me, that little lizard part of the brain would have thought about it. Wouldn't have done anything, but I would have at least fantasized about it."
Breena smiles at that, too. She knows Jimmy inside and out, and they are long past pretending they only find each other sexually interesting.
"So, what were you thinking about, if not hot Tim fantasies?"
"First off, I do not have hot Tim fantasies. Ever. I have hot you fantasies. And I have hot Abby fantasies. And I have scorching hot you and Abby and me fantasies. And when you tell me your foursome fantasies, I like them just fine, and I think they're hot, but if we're just in my head, and I'm thinking about sex, Tim more or less ceases to exist."
Breena laughs while shaking her head. "So, what were you thinking about?"
"How you kissing him didn't freak me out." She nods; she knows that. "And how I do think you're amazing because you can love so deep and sweet. And because you are who you are, you can kiss him, and I still feel secure and adored because I know you've got more than enough love for all of us. Because it's not an either or thing. Because we went home after, and you're still my wife." He's smiling gently at her. "You're my world, and because it's you, I get the chance of a bigger, grander, richer world, but no matter what, you're the center of it."
She leans over and kisses him deep and slow.
"I love you so much."
She cups his face in her hands. "Love you, too."
He smiles at her, eyes sparkling, and then says, "Also, I was thinking that Tim really knows how to put up mirrors, and when he can stand without a crutch, I'm getting him up to our room, and we're doing a little redecorating."
Breena laughs at that. "Uh huh. Got something in our room you want to see more of?"
His hand drops lightly to her breast and his eyes follow, then jump back up to hers. "Oh yeah!"
Next
Chapter 404: Words
"So this is what you two do when I'm out?" wakes Jimmy out of his doze.
He looks up and sees Abby grinning at him, and promptly realizes he's in bed, in her bed, with Tim, and apparently was asleep.
He stretches a little, sees that Tim's still asleep, and notices his phone on the bed next to him. What happened starts to slide back into his mind: bed, comfy, boring reading, somewhat dim light, sound of rain, and off to sleep he went.
He rubs his eyes, sees Abby still grinning. She gets (gently, Tim's still asleep) into the bed, between them, and quietly says, while poking Jimmy, and still grinning. "So…" She's enjoying this way too much. "What sort of fun did you two get up to that got you so tired out?"
Jimmy rolls his eyes, but notices that Tim settles in against Abby. He doesn't appear to have woken up, but he knows she's near and has snuggled in closer. He smiles a little at that. Breena does that when he comes home late and slips into bed without waking her.
"Kelly?" Jimmy asks.
"Naptime for her, too. I was just going to crash. You want to hang out here, you're welcome."
Jimmy checks the clock, little before two. He shakes his head. "Nah. Gotta eat." He sits up and stretches. "MOPs'll be done by the time I get home. Play with my girls some, and do some more studying."
Abby kisses his cheek. "Have fun."
Jimmy smiles, tucking his phone back into his pocket and slipping his feet into his shoes. "I will."
Breena's in an exceptionally good mood when he gets home.
"Hi." He kisses her before heading through the living room to the coat closet by the front door. The trashed living room. He gets the point of the MOPs group. How they alternate between each other's houses, so seven weeks out of eight, Breena gets some time to socialize with other adult women with kids, have a good cup of coffee, yummy snacks, and what she refers to as 'girl talk', the kids can run around and wreck someone else's house, and having eight sets of adult eyes to watch fourteen kids is a hell of a lot easier than one set of eyes and two kids.
So he gets it, but, Lord, his living room looks like a tornado went through it. They're gonna need Federal disaster relief to get this cleaned up.
"I take it, it was a good meet?" He tosses his shoes into the closet and heads back to where she is, at the kitchen table, looking over the PL statements for the last quarter for Slaters'.
She smiles up at him, and he kisses her again.
"Good meeting, and Abby just sent me the cutest photo ever." There's a massive grin on her face.
Jimmy rolls his eyes again, and heads to the fridge. "She took pictures?" It's possible he sounds a tad whiny at that.
"Of course!"
He opens the door. "You want anything?"
"Nah. Everyone brings food, and Elise made it this week…" He knows Elise is the baker, and when she comes she always brings some sort of amazing, high calorie, chocolate-intensive thing that the girls regret eating but usually snarf down in about ten seconds. Elise runs a bakery that handles catering a lot of the post-viewing/post-funeral wakes that Slaters' throws.
Actually, he thinks about it more, a lot of those women run businesses that work with Slaters'.
Ed and his brothers are part of a bunch of businessmen's groups, where they get together and do whatever it is they do over golf and beer or whatever. Jimmy's fuzzy on the details what with never having attended any of those meetings. He's heard the extended Slater clan talking about it at Sunday dinner, though, and it sounds very nineteenth century.
Breena and her friends are doing the same thing, at home, while watching kids. Pulling this tradition into the twenty-first century and multi-tasking it.
Jimmy closes the fridge door, and heads over to Breena. He hugs her from behind, and she absently tilts her head, the way she usually does when she's expecting a kiss, but paying attention to something else. He shifts over a step, tilts her head toward him so she's looking into his eyes and says, "I don't tell you how amazing you are nearly often enough."
She smiles at that. "What's bringing this on?"
"You." He kisses her again.
"I'm really not bugged by you catching a nap with Tim."
"Huh?" He pulls back, confused.
"I'm cool with it, you don't have to get extra sweet with me because of it."
"Uh… Okay." His eyebrows furrow. He doesn't think that's what he's doing. He thinks for another second. "No. That's not happening. I was thinking about how you're handling the girls and your business all at once, and how you're just on top of everything."
She looks very pleased by that. "Oh! In that case, yes, I'm awesome." She grins at him again, and he gently shoves her shoulder, heading back to the fridge and locate lunch.
"I saved the lettuce wraps Chloe brought to the meeting."
"Mmmm…" He sees them and grabs them. "You really are awesome." He doesn't know how she makes them, some sort of secret recipe that shall not be divulged, but they're hummus and red peppers and black olives and pine nuts all mixed into some sort of paste with a bunch of yummy herbs wrapped up in romaine lettuce and if he ever had leftovers he'd take them to Abby and ask her to analyze them so he could make them for himself. But he's never had the self-control to have leftovers.
He sits down next to her, happily chewing. "So, you think I'm being extra sweet to you for catching a nap with Tim?"
She shrugs. "Wasn't sure entirely what that eye roll was. Hoping you're not feeling guilty."
Now he's slightly alarmed. "What the hell do you think we did?"
"Slept."
Okay, that's right. "Then why would I be guilty?"
"I don't know? You shouldn't be. It's not a big deal."
"I'm not. And you're acting like it's a big deal."
"There was some edge in the way you shrugged at me."
Jimmy thinks about that. Some edge with Abby, too. Okay, why? "Irked," he says after a few seconds. "You and Abby are petting and praising me like I'm a toddler who successfully peed in the potty."
Breena lights up. "Not to derail this, because this is important, but I might forget to tell you otherwise…" Jimmy nods. They have a lot of conversations where they start on one topic, flip over to another one, and eventually get back to the original one. Just part of busy lives, two full-time jobs, parenting, friending, and all the rest of it. "Molly did successfully notice she had to go, stopped playing with her toys, and got to the potty in time."
He smiles at that. "Way to go, little girl!" Molly, if asked, will make it to the potty in time, but if she's doing something she finds interesting, she usually doesn't notice that she has to go until she's sitting in a puddle. "Have to do something special for that."
"Already in place. Rented a new episodes of the Hoobs. When she wakes up…"
"She gets to see the new episode as a reward, and we've got a quiet twenty minutes to get the living room tidied up."
Breena nods. "That's the plan."
"Okay, good. I can do that." Jimmy waits for a beat, sees Breena's done with that, and shifts gears from dad and back to lover. "However, the point I was making… comforting someone you love when they're hurting shouldn't get you a medal."
"Yeah. It's… I don't know, kind of related to that, but not that. It's not you taking care of him, though that's good, too. It's… Okay, if wherever we go next involves sex, it'd be a lot easier if you and Tim are physically comfortable with each other. I know you don't want to fuck each other. And, I'm not talking about that, or you guys ever going there, but if you can be close and touch without freaking out, that makes everything easier."
Jimmy hadn't thought about that. In fact, any of the physical mechanics of the four of them that involve him with Tim, he hasn't been thinking about. "And that's why you and Abby think me snoozing next to him is cool?"
"You haven't seen the picture, have you?"
"I was there."
"Uh huh." Breena knows how Jimmy wakes up from naps. He's usually out of it enough he doesn't know his name. She pulls out her phone, opens the shot and shows it to Jimmy. It's exactly what he's expecting. He drifted off reading, sitting against the headboard, but apparently he slumped down, so he's back on the bed, in his usual arms and legs akimbo sleeping position, one hand on Tim's neck.
He looks up at her. "Uh, yeah. He was having a hard time." Jimmy sighs. "Look, I'm the fucking moron who put him in the morgue to take x-rays. Understandably enough, that freaked him out. We spent some time with him in his office working, once he got tired, I got him home for a nap, he was still a little freaked out so I sat next to him, and, I can't put my hand on his shoulder. He's got it in a cast, and the damn thing still hurts, so yes, I'm holding his neck."
Breena smiles. "It's sweet."
He rolls his eyes again. "It's not a big deal."
"Yes and no. No, comforting a friend isn't a big deal. Allowing yourself to be comforted by a friend isn't a big deal. It's normal. People do it all the time. But, come on, could you touch Tony like that, in his bed?"
Jimmy shrugs. "Not right now." They're better, but there's also still an edge between them from the Jeanne thing. "I like to think that if he needed it, I could, but I'm fairly sure he'd never let me see that he needed it."
"What'd you do when things were going bad with Ziva? I know you were willing to hug her." Because last summer Ziva had stayed with them when she and Tony were in the weeds, and Jimmy had been willing and able to listen and offer hugs as needed, they both were.
Jimmy sighs, remembering. "Hand on his shoulder, or holding his hand. We were getting along as well as we ever had, and he was hurting worse than he ever had, and I didn't hug him."
Breena looks at him, smiles a little, and he nods. "Thinking about that some when Tim was sleeping. You're right, we're not friends. Tony's my friend, and I couldn't offer him that sort of comfort."
Breena nods.
"But I don't know what Tim and I are. I've got words for you and me. And, whatever happens with Abby, between us, or you two, there are words for that, too. Lover, girlfriend, wife, mistress, whatever. But I don't have words for Tim. I love him more than anyone who isn't you or the girls, but…I don't want to have sex with him. If it'd have been Abby or Ziva, or any other reasonably in shape woman in bed with me, that little lizard part of the brain would have thought about it. Wouldn't have done anything, but I would have at least fantasized about it."
Breena smiles at that, too. She knows Jimmy inside and out, and they are long past pretending they only find each other sexually interesting.
"So, what were you thinking about, if not hot Tim fantasies?"
"First off, I do not have hot Tim fantasies. Ever. I have hot you fantasies. And I have hot Abby fantasies. And I have scorching hot you and Abby and me fantasies. And when you tell me your foursome fantasies, I like them just fine, and I think they're hot, but if we're just in my head, and I'm thinking about sex, Tim more or less ceases to exist."
Breena laughs while shaking her head. "So, what were you thinking about?"
"How you kissing him didn't freak me out." She nods; she knows that. "And how I do think you're amazing because you can love so deep and sweet. And because you are who you are, you can kiss him, and I still feel secure and adored because I know you've got more than enough love for all of us. Because it's not an either or thing. Because we went home after, and you're still my wife." He's smiling gently at her. "You're my world, and because it's you, I get the chance of a bigger, grander, richer world, but no matter what, you're the center of it."
She leans over and kisses him deep and slow.
"I love you so much."
She cups his face in her hands. "Love you, too."
He smiles at her, eyes sparkling, and then says, "Also, I was thinking that Tim really knows how to put up mirrors, and when he can stand without a crutch, I'm getting him up to our room, and we're doing a little redecorating."
Breena laughs at that. "Uh huh. Got something in our room you want to see more of?"
His hand drops lightly to her breast and his eyes follow, then jump back up to hers. "Oh yeah!"
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