Chapter Text
Tim was flustered. He could admit that alright? Look, working with someone like Tony every day, being teased at any and every opportunity just for him to turn around and implement the same exact tone but with a flirt? It didn’t matter that the flirting was always directed at women, the fact he used the same sort of charisma, same tone of voice, same sly grin, it got to him ok?
After 4 years of enduring what had started out as actual animosity and had turned into playful banter (most of the time) he could admit sometimes the redness in his cheeks was not from anger. Tony had always been good looking, and the ‘don’t date a coworker’ thing had been thrown out the window the second he met Abby. However he was really unsure of what Tony’s leanings were.
Tim had known since junior year of high school that he swung both ways. All ways. Any direction. And of course who didn’t experiment in college? But Tony, sometimes he said something, made a joke or comment that made McGee pause. Instances where Tim could hope. And then within the next five minutes he said something else completely macho and overcompensating and while Tony might believe that it threw them off the scent, it just made McGee more suspicious.
What really put the nail in the coffin was when they were undercover tracking an officer thought to be involved in arms dealing.
They were tailing him into a hotel, and at first it didn't seem like anything was amiss. The officer was staying at a hotel for a few nights to visit a sister in Virginia. He seemed like he was just heading back to his room so they walked into the lobby and grabbed a couple pamphlets about local tourist traps. They were to keep up the pretense they were just regular people in town for the holidays.
“Boss, two more guys just showed up.” Tony said softly into the mic in his sleeve.
The two guys in question were the muscle that were sent to buy the weapons from the officer. Then the officer tilted his head in Tony and McGee’s direction. They were both packing. Tim and Tony were not, as part of their cover. Their info had led them to believe the meet would not happen for another day.
This was all wrong.
The guys reached for their guns.
Shit.
“Boss I think we’ve been had”
Tony Grabbed McGee’s elbow and walked quickly towards the elevators but instead of stepping in them he took a sharp right and dragged Tim down the hallway. They broke into a light jog once out of sight of the men.
“Boss!”
“Be there in 5, get out of there”
“We are trying boss.” McGee panted as they reached the end of the hall. There was no door.
“ Shit.” Tony said under his breath.
“Nice going Tony, the fire escape was on the left side.”
“Shouldn’t they be on both sides?! Come on in here quick”
Tony opened the last door in the dingy hallway and shoved McGee through. Just as Tony pulled the door shut he heard the heavy footsteps of the gunmen moving down the hallway. The room Tony had shoved them into was not really a room at all. It was a small linen closet stuffed full with bedsheets, pillowcases, and towels. There was barely any room to move and they were almost chest-to-chest. It was dark so Tim could not see Tony’s face, or much of anything at all really, but he felt everything.
They stood leaned against the side walls of the closet but to do that they had to stand with their legs slotted together. Which meant McGee could feel the warmth of Tony’s thighs boxing his. He felt Tony’s hand, still gripping his elbow gently, the heat of his hand seeping through Tim’s long sleeved shirt. Heat rose in McGee’s cheeks and he could feel his ears reddening as they stood nose to nose, breathing almost in sinc.
He felt his heartbeat quicken. It would be so easy, to lean forward, to feel the softness of Tony’s lips, to run his hands through his hair.
It would be so easy.
His adrenaline is running high with the threat outside the door combined with being in such a close space with the man he had been crushing on for the better part of 3 years, and if he didn’t get his wayward thoughts under control he would be very uncomfortable in places he would rather not be.
Then the door opened wide and they both tumbled out onto the ground. McGee recovering first, he sprang back up ready to fight when he saw Gibbs. Sighing with relief, Tim ran a hand through his hair.
“So we got them?”
Gibbs nodded to the three guys handcuffed and looking more than a little roughed up, sulking next to a smug Ziva.
“Are you two alright?”
Tim nodded, and turned to Tony who still seemed to be on the floor. Quirking a confused eyebrow, McGee offered Tony a hand. Seeing his face in the light, McGee made several startling revelations.
1, Tony’s face was bright red. Tim had never seen him blush so much, even after Tony had caught Palmer and Lee in the evidence garage several years ago.
2, When McGee had offered his hand, Tony zeroed in on it immediately and somehow his blush deepened
3, Tim had forgotten for a moment that they definitely were not carrying guns and had definitely felt something rub against his thigh while they were squished together in the closet
“Tony are you alr-”
“Not a word McGee.”
4, Tony definitely swung his way
If Tony sat next to him in the truck on the ride back, if he leaned into McGee’s side more than usual, Tim didn’t say anything. If Tony immediately rushed off to the bathroom the second they got back, that was none of Tim’s business.
~~
It was late, they were filing paperwork from their op that was taking forever and everyone else had gone home. McGee had just finished packing up himself, deciding to save the rest for tomorrow. Tony was still crouched over his computer, almost hiding behind the stack of papers in front of him. Tim tapped his desk to get his attention.
“Hey, do you want to go get a drink? I know it’s late but…”
Tony looked at him warily, but the small pink tint in his cheeks made Tim smile.
“Getting drinks…as coworkers? Or…”
“However you want.” Tim looked at him pointedly. “I’m up for anything.”
Flirting, he can do that. It didn’t matter that his stomach felt like it was going to burst through his abdomen and do several backflips. At first Tony’s face relaxed completely and the wary look he had been harboring since ‘ the incident’ melted away. Then, in typical Tony fashion, the playful smirk came to life on his lips. McGee knew he was staring, but now that it was a direct possibility he might know exactly how those lips felt, he couldn’t look away.
“Oh anything you say~ “ Tony stands, grabs his bag and coat and circles the desk in one smooth motion. “I’ll hold you to that.”
He grabs McGee’s tie in what seems like a practiced motion and plants a surprisingly gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. He drops his bag in shock, coat sliding off his arm. Stunned, and red as the Ferrari ad tacked to Tony’s wall, he stands staring blankly, brain fizzling out.
“Did I break your computer McBluescreen? Come on I thought we were getting drinks”
Tony saunters over to the elevator, holding the door. Tim snaps out of it and beelines to the open door. He all but tackles Tony into the elevator, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and kissing him for real.
His lips are soft and warm and it feels like there is an explosion in his chest. Pressed up against the wall of the elevator, he has one hand flat against the cool wall, and one on the back of Tony’s head protecting it from the hard metal. While they are both the same height, with Tony leaning back against the wall McGee had a couple inches on him. His other hand comes around to caress Tony’s cheek and cup his jaw. He felt Tony’s hands both resting on his waist, slowly slipping under his jacket and across his back over his cotton shirt. The warmth felt soothing and he moved closer. The hand in Tony’s hair tugged slightly and McGee sucked Tony’s lip into his mouth causing him to moan at the pleasure. Tony moved his hands up to Tim’s chest and gently put a little distance between them.
The doors of the elevator had closed but it had not moved. They were both breathing hard, forehead to forehead.
“Gotta save something for later Mcflirt.”
Tim laughed, and stepped back.
“I left all my stuff by your desk,”
Tony laughs and Tim just swats playfully at his shoulder as he extracts himself.
“I’ll see you there, yeah? The bar on the corner of Jefferson and 7th.”
Tony just nodds at him, a dopey grin still stretched across his features. McGee steps out of the elevator and back onto their floor. He gives DiNozzo a wave as the doors shut and he turns to walk back over to the desk. Grabbing his jacket and bag off the floor, he catches the next elevator down to the parking level, a spring in his step. He couldn’t wait to gossip with Abby later about his date.
Chapter 2: Stepped Under a Ladder, Broken mirror
Summary:
Tony has a wave of bad luck and Tim has found himself in quite a prediciment
Chapter Text
Tony DiNozzo was having a rough day. He had been having a rough week actually, with the undercover mission going wrong, but today was just a dump of all the worst things. He woke up late, dropped his coffee bumping into some probie, got stuck in traffic, didn’t have time to eat, left his favorite work coat at home and his best field work hat had fallen out of his bag into a puddle and was now drying out hanging off the corner of his desk. To top off his rather shitty morning, it had started to rain just as he had been getting out of his car, without of course, his coat.
Just his luck.
He sat, wet and brooding at his desk, when Ziva waltzed in looking all too chipper for him to deal with this morning, and with not a hair out of place. He ignored her, opting instead to rummage through yet another drawer searching for old granola bars.
Ziva sat primly behind her desk watching Tony with a look of interest. It was always bad news for DiNozzo when Ziva was in a good mood. It was worse when she was in a bad mood, but either way Tony did not want to deal with any of the pointed banter at the moment. And no, he was not hiding behind his desk, he was better than that. He was hiding behind McGee’s. He just knew it would be more painful to be kicked when he was already down. It was logical. And he was very much down.
“Hey Tony, what are you doing…down there?”
Ziva asked in an amused tone. He tried to give her his best glare when he sat up. Slamming the drawer shut, he gave her a cold smile.
“Just searching for our dear Timmy’s dignity. Where is McLate anyway.”
He tried to do his usual strut back to his own desk but the dampness of his clothes was getting uncomfortable and he figured it looked more like a stiff walk than a cool saunter.
To really put the cherry on this miserable day, he had been stood up the night before. He had waited at the bar by the air and space museum for three hours. No call, no text.
McGee had never shown up.
It left him feeling just that much more miserable, and after a full night of backtracking over his words, their last conversation, everything, he could not come up with a single instance of McGee being upset at him. It was obviously still his fault, but for once he could not pinpoint the line over-stepped or the comment too-sharp. It just made his shitty week, shittier.
Finally getting asked out by someone he really cared about and giving him hope just to throw it in his face that he truly was unloveable and not worth dating.
Hope, that was the real kicker.
The kiss had felt like a promise, the touches he had felt burned into his skin for hours afterward. Hope had kept him at that table for three hours.
Hope was the real enemy.
Ziva glanced towards the elevator doors,
“He is usually here before us, maybe he is stuck in traffic or getting fist-cakes at that one cafe.”
“ Pound cake, and he was only late that time because of the chatty barista. No, something is off. I feel it in my bones.”
“Trust your gut not your bones, DiNozzo,”
Gibbs hollered as he rounded the corner, heading straight to his desk for his gun and bag.
“Got a dead petty officer, Grab your gear.”
~~~~
McGee did not drink. At least, not copious amounts like Tony did. He only drank a single beer or non-alcoholic drinks at bars and ate their small salty snacks. He would occasionally indulge in a finger of scotch when he had a serious case of writer's block and was trying to get in the zone, but the point is, he doesn’t drink. So it is both odd and immediately suspicious that he has woken up feeling like a semi truck had driven him over while simultaneously giving him the worst hangover he had ever had.
He was meant to be somewhere…
He attempts to open his eyes but squints at the brightness, wishing he had a pair of sunglasses. His legs and arms ache from the cold floor- wait. He blinks his eyes quickly trying to adjust.
he had to meet…someone…
He is in a small room, cold concrete, and a single door. It looked almost like a prison cell. There is a small window close to the ceiling allowing soft, grey light from the clouded sun to light the room. It is still relatively dark, and McGee hears the steady patter of rain.
But this- this doesn’t make any sense. He tries to think back to the night before but is rewarded with a pounding headache. Wincing, he sits up against a wall. No handcuffs or restraints, so whoever has him here is relatively confident.
He looks down at his clothes, he is wearing his thin button up and pair of slacks from the day before. His jacket, wallet, car keys, phone, shoes and socks are all missing. No tie either, and the receipt from the deli where he had gotten lunch yesterday had been removed from his pocket. He had nothing, no identification, nothing to get him out. Shivering, he looks around at the room.
The ground is sloped towards a drain at the center of the room. There were dark stains all around it and he couldn’t be sure, but it looked suspiciously similar to blood. There was a single crate pallet in the corner, not long enough to sleep on by any means, unless he was a child, but it had a small canvas tarp over it. Shivering again, he figured no matter how rough and dirty, it was better than nothing. Leaning against the wall to stand, he suddenly is hit with a wave of vertigo.
He shuts his eyes tight against the spinning room, tamping down the nausea as he feels bile rise into his throat. The headache pounds in his temples. There is an ache in his throat as he swallows down tears of frustration. He’s a NCIS agent for crying out loud! How did he end up here?
Chapter 3: I survived and all i got were these stupid bruises
Summary:
The case gets investigated, mentions of copius amounts of blood, a brief description of a dead body and some drugs, yknow the usual
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The mission from earlier that week which required them to be undercover had not been their best work. Their real identities had been leaked and the sting had been aborted. The case had been reassigned to another unit, one with a newer and less infamous team. Gibbs hadn’t fought the reassignment, trying to play nice with Director Vance. Tony had secretly been glad for the reassignment because as much as he had liked being in the field, having McGee at his side was both thrilling and terrifying.
Tony loved the rush of adrenaline, the Mulder and Scully team up, (McGee being spooky Mulder as the book-writing nerd he is) he and McGee worked really well together and it showed. For all their bickering, when it mattered on cases they seemed to be able to anticipate each other’s moves and it thrilled Tony. He dreamed of this kind of team up ever since he had been a small kid spending his summers alone inside surrounded by DVD’s when most kids were outside with their best friends.
He knew he had issues with abandonment, and you could take your pick on struggles with intimacy. He put up a face, went to work with it every day, used it to score at bars, used it to maintain friends. He really longed for the type of connection where you could show your deepest self and they would not turn and run. He wanted that. He felt it could be possible, with Tim.
He knew rule 12, but he also knew rule 18, better to seek forgiveness than ask for permission. It was a bad idea, probably a terrible idea, if this went wrong he would lose 4 years of friendship, trust, his best friend . He made fun of McGee, he teased and poked and prodded, because that's what the mask demanded of him. It was the most comfortable way to show affection to other guys. And yes, it was a little embarrassing that his best friend also happened to be his coworker, but because of the nature of the job it also had to be .
He could never discuss a case with a random civilian. Tim had experienced everything with him, gone through months of torture in South America with him, been there all the times he had almost died, believed him both times he was accused of murder. McGee had seen a specific and vulnerable part of Tony that he didn’t even share with his own father. He had been there. But this is what also made it terrifying. Tony didn’t know what he would do if he lost McGee in the same way they lost Kate. She was like a sister to him and it had taken him months to recover. He didn’t think he would ever recover if it was McGee.
He wasn’t sure anything more than friendship would have been possible before last night. He knew McGee wasn’t only into women. He clocked Tim almost immediately, and the amount of times he had let it slip, sometimes intentionally using a wrong pronoun here or there, trying to be vague while answering whenever Tony teased him about his troubles with women. And sometimes he would fumble so bad it always made Tony smile.
The thing DiNozzo has always found cute about Tim is how much he could blush. It did not stop at his ears or cheeks, his face would light up like a stop light, red receding straight into his hairline. And Tony didn’t miss it when the hot metro detective had saddled up to him and McGee looked so conflicted. Tony had laughed when Max had given Tony his number and McGee had stared daggers into his back while simultaneously staring at his ass. He had been so red Tony had worried about his head exploding and then having to call up Ducky to pick brain matter off his computer.
Tony had to admit that Metro-Max was one fine man and ordinarily would have no problem taking him up on the offer, if it had been 5 years ago. As of now, he had no intention of following up, but he pretended he would just to see Tim squirm.
Now, at the time, he had thought Tim as just jealous Metro-Max had given Tony his number instead of McGee, but now he realized it wasn’t Tony he was jealous of. It was Max .
That wasn’t the only ass he had caught McGee distracted by, but just because he knew Probie was distracted by all kinds of asses did not mean he was interested in Tony’s. So he waited, fell back into his comfortable mask of what everyone expected him to be.
He dated women, slept with men but changed the pronouns when he spoke about it to his coworkers, and kept his budding crush to himself. There was rule 12 after all. If there was an occasional time where he limped around the office or to a crime scene, he could easily play it off as anything else because they didn’t expect the alternative.
People only saw what they wanted to.
~~
Tony stood at the edge of the crime scene, looking at the mangled body of the petty officer. The rain had let up a little to just a drizzle but the air was still damp with cold. The body was broken on the concrete, limbs contorted in what looked like a painful motion. Tony looked up at the solid concrete building, there was a small window several stories up with blood dripping slowly off the windowsill, slowly getting erased by the rain. He nervously checks his cellphone again, 0 missed calls. No messages. Still no McGee.
“Based on the complete lack of rigor mortis and how the blood has pooled, I’d say this poor young man has been dead for 3 hours, of course this cold will have affected the internal temperature immensely.”
Ducky announced from where he was crouched over the body. Jimmy hovered nearby ready with the gurney and body bag.
Gibbs looked up at the window the officer must have either fallen out of or been pushed. He then looked pointedly at Tony and Ziva.
“DiNozzo, David, go.”
They both rushed into the building, lugging their gear up the stairs to the fourth floor. The building looked old, some sort of disused factory of some sort. When they reached the fourth floor they could tell it was not as abandoned as the rest of the building. There were telltale footprints and scuffs in and around the many doors lining the halfway. Some old and caked with dried mud, others fresh with puddles of rainwater from outside.
‘What is up with you?” Ziva asked as she lined up a shot of a footprint. “You have been acting fidgety all morning.”
“Just missing that wayward granola bar in McMIA’s drawer.” He was silent for a moment.
“Have you ever been stood up?”
He and Ziva both winced silently at the very obvious and not subtle at all topic change to something that was definitely not causing DiNozzo’s mood.
“I…have not.” Ziva said, treading lightly.
Tony turned, hiding his embarrassment.
“No of course not, who would ever be a no-show to someone as smoking hot-”
“ Tony .”
“Stopping now.”
Ziva snapped several pictures of the footprints and which doors they led to. Tony followed behind, shouldering open each of the doors in the hallway.
“So someone stood you up..?”
He could tell Ziva was much more curious then she was letting on. The fact she indulged in this conversation at all was telling of how intrigued she was. He knew this would all trickle back to Abby. She and Ziva were menaces when it came to office gossip. He groaned knowing Ziva would not drop it unless she figured out who, when, and where this happened.
“Yes I was asked out on a date, and they never showed.”
“They? Do I get to know who they is Tony?”
“No, no you don’t.”
The rooms along the hall seemed to be small storage rooms, all piled with flats of wooden pallets and crates, some had piles of rough canvas tarps draped over the boxes. He noticed a handful of the rooms had some sort of drain in the center of the room or by the wall.
“Tony I got something.”
Ziva was standing in a door frame, looking in one of the rooms. It was about midway down the hallway, about where the room should be with the blood on the windowsill. It had been cleared of everything except for a single wooden crate. The main difference however from all the previous rooms was that this one had blood everywhere.
Tony stood next to Ziva in the doorway, looking in horror at the sheer volume of blood on the floor. It sloped inwardly towards the drain at the center of the room, but most had dried before it reached the grates. Ziva snapped several pictures and marked the door with a piece of chalk.
“Ziva… this amount of blood…”
“Either he bled out in here and was thrown out that window,” She pointed to the single small window. “Or there have been multiple people killed in this room.”
~~
McGee was doing fine, despite the cold and damp, the lack of food, his lack of contact to the outside world, and the ever crushing exhaustion he had been fighting, at least he was still alive. Whatever he had been drugged with A, hadn’t killed him and B, whoever kidnapped him had not come back to finish the job, so he was ok. For now.
He tried to backtrack what had happened last night, but a lot of it seemed fuzzy and odd. He had left the office late after finishing paperwork, gone to his car, had he driven home? Maybe the kidnapper was waiting for him in the car? Did he get drugged on base? Was the kidnapper an officer? A relative of an officer?
He felt like he was supposed to go somewhere after work, to see someone…
He rubbed his temples at the persistent headache. He stood up from the floor, more coherent and less dizzy than he had been a few hours ago. He had been fading in and out of consciousness but felt he could fight it a little longer this time. Maybe it was starting to wear off. Whatever they had dosed him with was strong.
The sky had gotten a little lighter outside and the rain had let up. The dampness of the room however was ever persistent and Tim’s hands and feet had started to go completely numb.
He walked over to the small window, it was about 6 feet off the ground. He could barely see out of it if he stood on his toes. He dragged the small pallet to give him a few more inches. It looked like he was in some sort of old business park, somewhere surrounded by a lot of taller buildings. He could not tell exactly how far up off the ground he was but based on the relative height of the building across the street he estimates he would be in this building's 6th or maybe 7th floor. The window had no glass or bars to stop him from climbing out but the 40 foot drop would probably kill him. This was a well and truly a terrible situation.
He slumped back to the ground and put his pounding head between his knees trying to tamp down some of the nausea. He felt the drug still in his system, reaching into his psyche. The pull of sleep was too strong for him to resist and darkness took over.
~~
About 5 minutes later a large truck pulled into the lot with a large NCIS stamped on the side.
The drugs in Tim’s system kept him well and truly under for the rest of the day.
The agents went about their investigation, gathering the evidence, and driving off again. Never even realizing one of their own was above them the whole time.
~~~
Tony sat at his desk, his body riddled with tension and worry. Ducky and the autopsy gremlin had lifted hundreds of fingerprints off their dead officer. Not to mention the identity.
Tony had recognized the name immediately.
He wouldn’t have if he hadn’t heard McGee’s constant rants about how incompetent his unit at Norfolk had been, he wouldn't have recognized the name of McGee’s deskmate, the “absolute idiot that thought flux capacitors were a thing” if not for the many times he and Tim had gossiped over coffee about past coworkers. Abby had also identified several other officers from the DNA and blood samples in the room. They matched several other names of techs who had worked in the same unit as McGee at Norfolk 5 years ago.
“Tony, are you certain?”
Ziva looked between the TV and McGee’s empty desk with horror. Gibbs had already started grabbing his gear haphazardly. Tony felt sick as he looked at the small blinking light on the map. A trace on the last ping from McGee’s phone before it had been shut off. The dot sitting directly on their crime scene. Flashes of them finding Tim bloody and crumpled in that room filled Tony’s mind. He had been there all day, they were there this morning, he had been there this whole time.
The atmosphere felt heavy as they rushed to get their bags. Before they could even get to the elevator, the doors slid open and out stepped a very ragged and tired looking Tim McGee.
They stood frozen for a moment, Ziva even dropping her bag in shock.
“Hey guys.”
Notes:
I hope yall enjoyed, I really don't know how well this will do even with NCIS: Origins coming out, its been 20 years so yknow... but I have been on an NCIS kick lately and needed to get this out of my system. If yall want I can do another chapter where we find out how McGee escaped and maybe finally get that date they were supposed to go on, and find that guy from Norfolk. But only if I get enough interest because midterms are kicking my butt and I thrive on the kudos and comments :) Let me know your thoughts! Thanks yall are my lifeline