McGee sighed silently, forcing himself to straighten his spine. Today would be better than yesterday. He repeated that to himself. It had to be better. He didn't even want to consider how it could be worse.
His pep talk not really working, McGee eyed the emergency stop button on the elevator panel. Maybe he could just hide out in the elevator for the day. He snorted. That was not a viable option. The way Gibbs had been acting since Tony left the former Marine would probably pry open the doors with a crowbar and beat McGee to death with it.
He shook his head. It was Friday. That had to count for something. He had to remind himself that it had been Tuesday morning, only three days ago, Tony had gotten a call from security about a package. It felt like a lot more time than that had passed. McGee sighed again. He really should have called in sick or something.
A package, properly examined by security, seemed like such an innocent thing. Hardly what McGee would have expected to become a harbinger of doom, but since Tony got that call everything had gone to shit. McGee only knew what had been delivered courtesy of the office rumor mill. Tony hadn't said anything when he'd come back. Not a word. Knowing that a Ferrari had been delivered to him--a Ferrari for God's sake---it was hard to imagine Tony not gloating or bragging about it.
Of all the things Tony would normally brag about, a car like that definitely topped the list. But he'd simply come back, ignored McGee and Ziva, and headed upstairs to talk to the Director. McGee had no idea what was Tony said to Shepard, or what she might have said to him. Even the office gossip failed to fill in the blanks there because whatever they said to each other hadn't been loud enough to leak through the door.
Whatever had been said hadn't taken long. Tony was back down in less than less than fifteen minutes. He'd grinned at McGee and Ziva before saying, "You kids have fun. I'll see you in ten days."
McGee's first thought was Tony had been put on another undercover assignment. He nearly panicked, stumbling over his feet in his haste to stop Tony from leaving. The last assignment had nearly gotten Tony killed. McGee shuddered. He never wanted to process another crime scene thinking the body was a friend.
"Ten days?" McGee had grabbed Tony's arm, halting him. "Wait, Tony---what...where...you're not going undercover again are you?"
"No." Tony had shrugged off his hand. There was something hard and cold in Tony's eyes that McGee rarely saw. He got the distinct impression hell would freeze over before Tony took another undercover job for Sheppard. As much as he was jealous that Sheppard would have picked Tony instead of him for the job, McGee wasn't really sorry not to have had to deal with the fall out the case caused.
"Don't worry, Probie." Tony had clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm just taking some time off."
"Time off?" Ziva had eyed him, sizing up Tony in a way that would have made McGee immediately break out into a sweat.
"You know...Vacation." Tony responded with a smirk. "McGee can fill you in on the concept if you aren't familiar with it."
"You have never taken a vacation." Ziva had stated. She was clearly suspicious, no doubt thinking Tony was lying.
"Yes, I have." Tony had countered calmly, meeting and holding her eyes easily.
McGee had frowned. Tony wasn't lying. He probably had taken a vacation at some point in his life, which technically made what he told Ziva true. But in the time McGee had been with the team he remembered a few long weekends, and the time Tony was off to recover from the plague, but no real vacation.
"Not while I've been here."
"Which is one of the reasons I'm taking one now."
McGee never got a chance to ask what other reasons were. Tony had walked over to Gibbs' desk. He put down on the blotter what McGee had seen was an approved request for leave. It looked like Tony might have only originally asked for the following week, and then had scribbled out the dates, changing it to include the rest of that week as well.
"Aren't you going to wait for Gibbs?" The former Marine hadn't come back from getting coffee yet, and McGee didn't want to be the one to tell him Tony had gone over his head and requested leave.
"Nope."
And just like that Tony had left. McGee's gut still hurt every time he thought about how nervous he'd been bracing for Gibbs reaction. The former Marine had come in, large coffee cup in hand. He'd looked around before barking out, "Where's DiNozzo?"
Not wanting to answer, but unable not to, McGee had defaulted by pointing to the form Tony had left on Gibbs' desk. Gibbs had picked it up, held it at arms length, reading it carefully. Tony might be bold enough to comment on Gibbs needing glasses, but McGee didn't have a death wish so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Over the last few years, McGee had become familiar with most of Gibbs' expressions when it came to impatience, irritation, cynicism, sarcasm, anger and outright fury. But McGee hadn't been sure what to make of the expression on Gibbs' face at that moment. He couldn't read the older man well at that moment, but there was definitely a hint of what might have been disappointment, loss and even pain. It was far more worrisome than what he'd expected to see.
Gibbs had stormed up to the Director's office. There was no need to wonder about the substance of that conversation. McGee laughed ruefully. Gibbs could be loud when he was pissed. No doubt about it. It was interesting that Gibbs anger seemed to be over the Director messing with his team without telling him, not over Tony leaving so abruptly.
Maybe the former Marine thought Tony had earned a break. McGee snorted. That was about as likely to happen as pigs flying, McGee told himself. Gibbs wasn't known for compassion when it came to his team. With children and the wives of service men..Abby...Ducky sure, Gibbs could be gentle. As far as anyone else went, McGee knew Gibbs assumed they would continue to work as he directed until he told them otherwise.
As the elevator doors opened, McGee eyed the opening warily. Not that he expected Gibbs to be waiting there to growl at him--again---he just couldn't stifle the instinctive urge to duck. His respect for Tony's ability to tolerate repeated head slaps had gone up considerably over the last few days. McGee was not used to baring the brunt of those, and really hated them.
He also gained new respect for Tony's ability with regard to red-tape paperwork. McGee wasn't clear on the details but evidently certain forms Gibbs had to sign had gone missing, lost somewhere in a black hole of inner office mail. Gibbs had ordered McGee to pick up some of the duties Tony normally handled and ˜fix it now".
He hadn't thought it would be difficult to do. After all, Tony did it, so how hard could it be? McGee shook his head. God. What a nightmare.
The file clerk, Marisol, had been helpful until he;d made the mistake of muttering loud enough for her to hear that the only reason he was stuck with such a mindless, meaningless task was because DiNozzo had screwed up. After that, she went from being cordial to cold, handing him a thick manual and telling him that since he was so smart, he could figure it out on his own. And that his mindless, meaningless task might become more significant when he couldn't get bullets for his gun, gas for the van, or a pay raise.
He'd tried to apologize, but got nowhere. Marisol turned her back on him, her focus on countless files before she removed the wilting arrangement McGee could tell had been fresh flowers not long ago. She had seemed to hesitate throwing them away, and McGee wondered if they were from her husband or a friend, a gift for some special occasion. He didn't imagine an older woman like her got flowers very often.
He'd actually said as much to Abby when he'd gone to her lab for sympathy. She;d beamed at him brightly and thanked him for giving her another reason to add to her list. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what list she was working on, especially when she grumbled quietly about how numbers five, six and seven had been valid reasons no matter what Tony said.
He did find out then she'd been in communication with Tony since he left. That surprised McGee. Tony was on vacation; staying in touch with the office sort of defeated the purpose of leaving. But then, he wasn't in touch with the office, just Abby. And they'd been friends for years.
"So did you hear about the Ferrari?" McGee had asked. He figured she had to know about it, if not from the office gossip then from Tony directly. Maybe she could fill him in on how Tony had gotten a car like that. It could have been compensation from the agency for getting Tony's car blown up, but McGee knew that was a serious long shot. He couldn't see the Director or the Agency being that extravagant. It was more likely the car was something Tony bought for himself, except McGee hadn't thought Tony could afford a Ferrari.
"Hear about it?" Abby laughed, bouncing on her toes. "I got to drive it."
"Tony let you drive it?" McGee had gaped at her, stunned.
"Well, I can drive stick." She grinned at him, playfully rubbing in his own limited experience with manual transmission. "And unlike Ziva, I'm not going to go all demolition derby with a sweet ride like that."
"But...he left right after it was delivered. When--"
"Left the office, yeah." Her grin had gotten wider. "But we had plans, so he didn't actually leave town until later."
"Plans?" Both his eyebrows climbed, and then he'd laughed. "You guys aren't dating, are you?"
Her gaze narrowed as she looked at him. It took a lot for him not to squirm in the face of that expression. "Are you implying that Tony and I dating would be a bad thing?"
"Not a bad thing--no." McGee verbally back peddled, sensing he was on dangerous footing.
"Not that we are dating, but you don't get to judge." She pointed a finger at him. "Tony and I could be a great couple."
McGee had laughed again, nervously this time. "Tony can't commit."
"Pfft. Shows what you know." She'd rolled her eyes. "And who says I wanted someone committed? I could be happy with right now." She arched an eyebrow. "I have been before."
McGee swallowed hard. He hated being reminded that what they'd shared was more casual than he'd wanted it to be. "C'mon, Abby, this is Tony we're talking about. He's clueless when it comes to what you do---"
"Oh?" She straightened, expression shifting to something dangerous. "You think he'd have to be at my level of intellect for me to be interested in him? I'm some sort of snob then. Is that what you think?"
"No, no, of course not." McGee had actually backed away from her. "But you have to admit Tony's more brawn than brains--"
"Right...and no woman is ever interested in a good looking guy with nice muscles." She stepped closer and punched him in the arm. "You really think Gibbs is just the sort to tolerate fools gracefully? Not knowing how I work my magic does not make Tony an idiot, McGee."
"Well, good old fashioned police work doesn't make him the brightest crayon in the box either." McGee shot back without thinking.
"That MIT degree is coming in so handy now, isn't it? Must make doing all that mindless paperwork a breeze." She'd snapped back at him, sarcasm biting deep. "You've only been fighting with it for two days now."
"I'm learning it." He glared back at her. "Not like I had anyone to show me how to do it."
"Yet, you managed to piss off the one person who knows every form NCIS ever created and could show you. Way to go there, Einstein." She snorted.
"At least I can come up with an original idea." McGee had countered, not entirely sure why he was still arguing. "I don't need to rely on some stupid movie plot for inspiration."
Abby glared at him, eyes colder than McGee could remember ever seeing them. "Those stupid movie plots solved more than one case. They also generated an idea that saved a room full of kids and Gibbs' life." She poked him in the chest hard enough to bruise. "And you don't get to claim to have original ideas. Agent Tommy. Agent Lisa. L.J. Tibbs. Those ring any bells, Thom E. Gemcity?"
"I told you, I didn't base my book on you guys. Or anyone else for that matter."
"Right." She shook her head. "Because you did such a good job of hiding your inspiration that some whacko could kill people using your draft as a guide to find them."
"That's not fair!"
"Neither is your dissing Tony." She huffed.
"Not like he sings my praises."
"Has he ever let you down?" She asked quietly. "When it really mattered?"
McGee had opened his mouth ready to give her a resounding yes before his better sense kicked in and he really thought about the question. Tony teased him--a lot. Made fun of him on a daily basis. Regularly belittled McGee's prowess with women, his wardrobe and life in general. Still called him Probie. But Tony had also gone to the morgue with him to say good-bye to Kate. He stopped by to make sure McGee was okay after he'd shot that cop in the alley. Tony shared moments of humor at the situation like when McGee used his new phone to tape the cat fight in the office, even singing "dueling banjos" when they had that case in the boondocks. He sided with McGee at times, ganging up on Ziva when the situation called for it. He never seriously questioned McGee's ability with technology or his willingness to do the job.
"When it really mattered, no, he has never let me down."
"You should tell him that."
McGee had frowned, remembering how unusually insistent she'd seemed. He'd brushed it off then with a casual, "He already knows."
"Yeah, but does he know you know?"
"Sure he---" McGee had stopped short. He'd only just realized it himself at that moment. So how could McGee honestly expect Tony to know that he counted on and trusted him, that when the chips were down Tony would be there for him. Especially after Gibbs came back and he'd made that crack about Tony not being good enough to have a team of his own. And with everything that happened immediately after the La Grenouille case, when McGee seemed to second guess anything Tony said or did.
It wouldn't hurt to say something to Tony--assuming he could figure out exactly what to say. Not like wanted to give the other man more fodder to tease him with, inflate his ego by admitting he was impressed with Tony's ability to wade through so much paperwork, or reveal just how stunned he'd been to find out how much more stuff Tony was responsible for than McGee had realized. No matter what he came up with, it would have to wait for Tony to come back.
Putting aside memories of his conversation with Abby and plans to talk to Tony, McGee stepped off the elevator and headed for his desk. He risked a quick glance around, relaxing when he saw Gibbs wasn't within sight.
He wasn't sure if Tony being gone made Gibbs' temper shorter than usual, or if having one less person to vent it on made it seem shorter. Even Ziva seemed to be giving Gibbs a wider berth, and she always claimed not to be afraid of him.
McGee snorted. Like he believed her. Big, bad Mossad officer David is definitely cautious if not outright afraid, McGee said to himself, giving Ziva's empty desk a dirty look. When Gibbs had been in Mexico she hadn't seen anything wrong with coming in late. Then, she could be more than two hours late and it didn't raise a single eyebrow. With Gibbs back, she was never more than five minutes late--ever.
Tony said he wasn't afraid of Gibbs either. And oddly, McGee could see that being true. Tony had lied to Gibbs. That was something McGee didn't think he'd have the balls to do, orders or not. And Tony stood up to Gibbs on a regular basis---not challenging his authority per se, but certainly not following blindly either. He was willing to take a head slap or two without much comment. McGee rubbed the back of his head. He never realized how much those head slaps hurt.
McGee powered up his computer, praying silently for the forms he'd spent half the wee hours of the morning working on from home and e-mailed to himself to be there. He grinned in relief when they were not only present, but still intact. The last batch he'd sent to himself had been corrupted somehow, and he'd had to do everything all over again. He quickly printed them, and placed them on Gibbs' desk, wondering if Tony was ever as tired as he was right now.
Tony never really looked tired--except for when he'd come back early after his bout with the plague, and when he was working undercover. He'd been doing all this stuff then. It had to have gotten done correctly, because no one else had been stuck with it and the team hadn't run out of anything they really needed.
McGee had a feeling he hadn't even half of all the forms and whatnot required. It boggled his mind when he thought about how much paper was probably necessary. Getting it all done, on top of working cases, certainly explained why Tony stayed late at the office. And why he napped during the day sometimes when things got slow.
"You finally get those requisition forms done?"
McGee nodded, flinching at Gibbs' voice coming from so close behind him when he thought he was alone. "Y-Y-Yes, Boss."
"Good." Gibbs scanned the forms before signing at the bottom. "Make sure a copy goes to the Director."
"Will do, Boss." McGee planned to deliver them personally to Cynthia, unwilling to trust inner office mail. He would be very glad to pass this thankless task back to Tony when the other man returned.
"You'll need to do better the next time."
McGee blinked. "Next time, Boss?"
"Having responsibility for this stuff is something you should have had a good two years ago, McGee." Gibbs declared flatly. There was an odd flash of something McGee would almost label as guilt in the older man's eyes before it vanished. "And you'll be taking care of it from now on."
"But Tony--"
"Is my senior field agent," Gibbs interrupted, his mild tone at odds with the fire in his eyes, "he has got better things to do with his time than paperwork. He should have passed this shit on to you when you were still a probie, McGee. Failing that, he should have given it to you when he was acting team leader." Gibbs' gaze narrowed. "Do you have a problem with doing your job, Special Agent McGee?"
"No, Boss. No problem."
"Good." Gibbs handed the form back to him before stalking off.
McGee looked over at Tony's empty desk. Tony would be gone for another week. Another very long week. He sighed heavily. Maybe that would be enough time for McGee to think of something to bribe Tony with to get him to keep doing the paperwork, or a sure bet he could win that would have Tony still doing it. McGee shook his head. He'd do better to find something which would convince Tony to show him what all needed to be done, when and who it all had to go to. Letting Tony gloat probably wouldn't be enough.
McGee sat down at his desk and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He noted Ziva's arrival, mentally smirking as he also noticed it was 7:29. She was in with one minute to spare. So much for Mossad conditioning and being in the office at 5:30, McGee thought with an internal snicker. She didn't get a chance to sit down before Gibbs was back.
"Grab your gear. We've got a dead Marine."
McGee shouldered his bag, stopping to cast another glance at Tony's desk. Somehow he didn't think working a case without Tony would be any easier than anything else had been since the other man had left. Maybe he should ask Abby if there was something he could get Tony to say welcome back.
Hearing Gibbs bark his name, telling him to get his ass moving, McGee wondered if he should add something more to the welcome back gift. Something that would clearly relay his desire to never, ever, be left alone with Gibbs again. There had to be something that would express that unique sentiment without reducing McGee to actually saying the words.
Gibbs wasn't at all nice like he'd been when he just came back from Mexico. Then he'd been willing to teach McGee, was patient and explained things, didn't raise his voice, had even given him coffee. McGee could not fathom how it was Tony liked this snapping and snarling version of Gibbs better. But then, with Tony around, Gibbs didn't snap or snarl quite so much.
McGee hoped when Tony got back things went back to normal. Being Gibbs' senior agent was a bit more than he'd bargained for. He was glad the job was only going to be his for another week.
Author's Chapter Notes:
McGee isn't enjoying being Gibbs' senior agent quite as much as he thought he would.