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Chapter Four
Tim

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It’s not the first time Tim stops by at a nearby coffee shop to purchase Tony’s favorite black coffee and his own favorite latte. It is, however, the first time he doesn’t also buy Gibbs and Ziva coffees as well. Even more unusual is that he doesn’t head towards NCIS headquarters at all, but towards Tony’s apartment instead, at six thirty in the morning – or really, any time of the day at all.

But he has to check on him. He has barely gotten any rest all night; as soon as he closes his eyes, he sees Tony hanging off the garage wall again, screaming his name. In his nightmares, which have plagued him through every minute of what little sleep he did get, he doesn’t get to Tony in time, and Tony falls to his death, into complete darkness, waking a sweating Tim, his heart racing.

He sits outside Tony’s building for a few minutes, the car filling with the scent of coffee. He tries to get himself calm, to convince himself that this is something colleagues do for each other, even though Tim has never done it for any of his team mates before. He’s certain neither Ziva nor Gibbs would appreciate it. He has no idea how Tony will react.

His heart races as he heads up to the front door. He walks inside, heart pounding, and after climbing the stairs to the second floor, he finds Tony’s door.

When he finally rings the doorbell, he’s fairly certain it’s nearing seven in the morning. Tony should be leaving very soon.

The door opens, and a dry-mouthed Tim is faced with Tony, whose hair is in disarray and who’s standing there in pants and no shirt.

“Probie,” he says, frowning slightly.

“I just—uh, came by to check on you,” Tim says, hating the fact that he can’t speak without hesitating.

Tony cocks his head to the side, and Tim worries the inside of his lip, trying not to let his eyes roam over the lovely planes of Tony’s body.

“Since you brought coffee, you can come inside,” Tony says. “Abby’s already left though.”

“Abby was here?” Tim squeaks. His mind races through a million possibilities of what Abby could have said to Tony. None of them are good, and several of them might cost Tim his job.

Then he calms, because he trusts Abby implicitly, and he knows she won’t do anything to risk his job – even if it means passing up the chance of playing matchmaker, which she seems very keen on in this particular instance.

“Yep,” Tony says, turning and heading back into the apartment. “She came by to ‘make sure I was okay’. Apparently, you’d talked to her.”

“I—uh,” says Tim, damning his own ineloquence.

“Relax, Probie,” Tony says, grabbing a shirt and starting to button it. Tim has the sudden urge to button it for him, to stand close enough to smell the aftershave and kiss Tony lightly, just like that. “She’d’ve found out eventually anyway. And then she’d’ve been all mad because I didn’t tell her immediately. Now, coffee?”

“Uh, yeah, here,” Tim says, shaking himself from the hypnotizing thing that is Tony’s hands, his fingers having made quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He hands the coffee to Tony, and their fingers touch for just a moment as Tony grabs the cup. Tim swears he can feel electricity pass between them, but he’s equally certain that he’s the only one who can feel it.

“You okay there, Probster?” asks Tony, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Tim replies. “Yeah. Just, uh, tired—didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Tony looks at him as though he wants to ask, but he doesn’t. Tim thinks it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t ask; if he did, then Tim would have to give an explanation as to why he didn’t sleep much, which would eventually lead to the revelation of the nightmares he had, and why. Although Tim is fairly certain he could blame the why on Tony being a team mate – after all, he’d probably have some nightmares if it had been Ziva, hanging over the edge. Or Gibbs, but that’s too weird to contemplate.

“So, are you going to be my cab for today too?” Tony asks, waking him again from his thoughts.

Tony’s hair has somehow turned into the immaculate hairdo he usually sports at work, and he has his shoes on and is ready to go.

“You want to ride with me to work?” Tim asks, hating the squeaky sound of his voice.

Tony shrugs. “You’re here. Might as well.”

“Okay,” Tim says. “Sure.”

“As long as you don’t fall asleep at the wheel,” Tony says. “I don’t feel like being in a crash just because you can’t keep your eyes open.”

“I’m a good driver.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I’m better than Ziva and Gibbs,” Tim says defiantly, hands on his hips before he has time to stop himself, and then he feels silly and drops them to his sides. Tony locks the door behind them.

“Everyone drives better than Ziva, so you can’t compare yourself with her,” Tony says. “And Gibbs drives well when he wants to.”

“Which is never,” Tim says, daring to say it only because he’s certain Gibbs is not in the near vicinity. Of course, their boss has an uncanny ability to show up at inopportune moments even when he’s not supposed to be anywhere nearby.

Tony grins and shrugs. “Well, yeah.”

They get into the car and Tim has a flashback to the night before, when Tony slept in the seat beside him. He likes the image of sleeping Tony, especially compared to the horrifying images of him hanging over the ledge, screaming Tim’s name.

His mind replays the multitude of times when Tony’s life has been in danger – getting kidnapped by a murderer, getting the Plague, being cuffed to a murderer, getting shot at, nearly getting blown up—the list goes on and on. Tim realizes that it’s a part of their jobs, but Tony’s life still seems to hang in the balance more often than any of the other’s.

It makes him want to reach out and take Tony’s hand and not let go.

He doesn’t, for obvious reasons, but it’s a strong, primal urge to protect that which he loves.

Tony’s four words from the previous day echo through his mind.

The car ride is surprisingly silent. Tony usually never shuts up about movies recently watched and girls recently bedded, but today he seems a million miles away, watching the roads pass them by through the side window. Tim steals glances, taking in the way the light plays over Tony’s hair and the sharpness of his features. Then he forces himself to be a good driver and keep his eyes on the road again.

He parks in the NCIS garage, and nudges Tony, who has yet to react to the fact that they’ve arrived at their destination. Tony turns, and for a moment, Tim sees tiredness and unhappiness in Tony’s blue eyes. It takes him by surprise, and he lets his hand rest on Tony’s shoulder for a bit longer than necessary.

Then in an instant, the look in Tony’s eyes is gone, replaced by a fleeting grin.

“Ready for a day of hard labor, McProbie?” Tony asks, getting out of the car.

Tim watches him, and thinks that there is something off about Tony’s energy. It’s like a parody of Tony’s real energy; it’s like Tony is trying too hard.

He decides to play along, because he knows Tony won’t share whatever it is he is troubled by.

“How can you be excited so early in the morning?” he asks.

“Caffeine, my dear friend, caffeine,” Tony says with a look of perfect seriousness.

Tim has to roll his eyes and smile to himself. Even when faked, Tony’s energy is infectious.

“Of course, that might be too strong for you,” Tony says. “Lemonade more your kind of thing? Hot chocolate for the kids?”

“I’m no kid,” Tim says, falling easily into the teasing.

“Yeah, you are, Probster,” Tony says, heading into the elevator. “Or maybe a puppy—”

They get to the bullpen, where Ziva is already sitting by her computer. She glances at them, notes that they arrive together, and a part of Tim wishes that there could be a naughtier reason as to why that is. The thought produces images at once, which makes his pants suddenly uncomfortable.

When he has forced the images away, he realizes Abby is approaching their small gathering at Ziva’s desk. She’s carrying a bouquet of black roses, her favorite, and asks where Gibbs is.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Tim says truthfully – he hasn’t seen Gibbs since they walked in. Of course, considering the images he’s just banned from his mind, a pink elephant could have walked through the room and he’d have failed to notice.

“Is that what you get for turning down the job offer?” Ziva asks, nodding towards the flowers.

There’s that smile on Abby’s lips that Tim has always loved – the smile that isn’t hyper and energetic like an energizer bunny, but simply genuinely happy and content.

“No,” she says. “For solving the case.”

Tony sputters, “What? I believe those are for me then, because I solved the case.”

Tim moves to stand beside Abby. For once, it’s not so much to be close to her, as it is so that he can watch Tony. He knows that teasing will come, because they always tease Tony, and it’s an excuse to watch Tony. Any excuse for being allowed to watch him is fine by Tim these days.

“But Abby ran the photo recognition that id’d Lt. Arnett,” he says, smiling slightly at Tony, who glares back. Even in love, Tim doesn’t mind – Tony has made his life hell enough time with annoying pranks and superglue, and Tim likes to give back.

“I risked my life hanging off a wall,” Tony says, and that sends Tim straight back to the garage, and he’s unable to respond, his breath hitching. Beside him, he sees Abby glancing up at him, knowing smile on her lips. He wonders what she’s told Tony. By their exchange so far, it seems she has said nothing.

They continue for another minute, their back-and-forth playful when Tim finds his voice again, pushing the memories of Tony near death out of his head. He watches Tony’s face fall as they keep going, and he feels instantly bad, even though Tony has done this kind of thing, and many more that are far worse, to Tim before – and he is more than likely to do stuff again.

“Give it up, Tony,” he says finally, quite gently, unable to laugh at Tony’s crestfallen expression. He has a feeling this one is hurting Tony for real – he did hang off a wall, risking his life, and he did suggest the search. But like Ziva says, Abby will always be Gibbs’ favorite, no matter what his agents do.

“He still loves me,” Abby says to her flowers, still smiling softly.

Then Abby tells Tony that she still loves him, and a flash of jealousy passes through Tim, like hot lighting. He wants to tell Tony the same thing, wants to hear Tony say those three words again. He can feel the words bubbling in his throat, and he focuses on his computer, pressing his lips together hard – he will not make an ass of himself by professing his undying love to Tony in the middle of the bullpen. The idea is ridiculous.

But he watches Tony as he stands with the black rose in his hands, eyes following Abby as she retreats to her lab. For a short moment, his gaze wanders to Tim, and their eyes meet. Tim thinks he can see something there, in those beautifully expressive eyes, but then it’s gone, locked away before Tim can decipher it.

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