Close Encounter of the Third Kind: Part 1 -- Alien Sighting

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--- I feel the magic all around you
It's bringin' me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you
(I feel the magic building around you)...

And I think about it all the time
And I think about it all the time
(Tell me it's madness I barely know you)... ---



NOVEMBER 8TH, 2003:

Ten days. Ten days before he started his new job and Tim McGee still hadn't found any decent suits in his price range. Unfortunately, that was currently so low that food and rent were in competition for top of his worry list. And the month had hardly begun. That turmoil, on top of another brief peek at the price tag in his hand, made him want to scream. For a moment, he considered doing just that. If he bellowed loudly enough, and added in a few emphatic hand gestures, he'd be able to both sleep and eat at someone else's expense, at least for a while. Tim's state of mind was such that he was almost beyond caring who it was that came to collect him; the men in blue uniforms or the ones with white coats, soothing voices and needles full of Thorazine.

"I wouldn't mind being sedated right now. I could use the sleep." He mumbled to himself, dropping the tag as if it were infectious. Pulling out his depressingly thin wallet for the tenth time that day, he bit his lip to suppress the whimper that wanted to break free and stared longingly at the single credit card tucked into one of the interior sleeves. "The limit's only five hundred... but it'll get me something. Otherwise I might as well track down the address of the nearest Salvation Army. That's not a bad idea, actually. Maybe I'll have to do repairs on whatever I find, but sewing's not a problem. God help me... Mental hospital, used clothes, credit card bill. Mental hospital, used clothes, credit card bill..." he mused under his breath, moving his hands up and down as he pretended to weigh the options.

"You keep talking to yourself, the sales staff's gonna make the decision for you." The now familiar voice advised, following up the wise-ass comment with breathy laughter close to Tim's right ear. The younger man jumped and turned to look at Tony reproachfully, but was pleased that his shock wasn't half as extreme as it had been the first two times they'd met.

"Tony. I'm never going to get you to stop sneaking up on me, even if I ask, right?"

"Smart man."

"Why?"

"It's fun. I like seeing how close I can get without you knowing I'm there. Hell, I like being close to you on general principles."

"Boy, did you prove that at the party." Tim reminded him, blushing. He moved off to look at another rack of suits and Tony followed, grinning wickedly.

"Mmm. That was sweet. So were you, by the way... in every sense."

"Uhh... dare I ask what that's supposed to mean?"

"Just that a rain-damp handkerchief wasn't enough to take you off my skin completely. I have to tell you... driving home, thinking about how brave you were and how good it felt to wrap my hand around you, I was rock hard the whole way. When I got there, I was doing some routine, home-for-the-night thing and my hand brushed by my face... it was just an auto-pilot move, like maybe my nose itched, I don't really know. All I remember is that I could still smell your essence on my fingers. I stuck one in my mouth and that taste..."

Instead of finishing the sentence Tony produced a sound that could have been a hum or a low chuckle, but that struck poor Tim as a combination of both. The heated, sensual vocalization pin-balled around the younger man's head for a few seconds then shot straight down into his groin.

"Oh man... you're doing it again! "Tim whimpered. "You need to stop teasing me in public!"

"Now, now. That's not fair. Teasing would imply I didn't intend to follow through."

Tim forced himself to swallow and reply, despite feeling as if all the moisture had been stripped from his mouth and throat.

"Do you?"

"Absolutely, but you have the final vote, just like before. Same deal as last time, yeah? I tell you my specific intentions... you decide if it's something you want."

"Right... go ahead." Tim responded huskily, surprised he could speak at all.

"In a minute. I need to... collect my thoughts. What are you doing in a place like this, anyway? A little out of your reach, isn't it?"

Tim shot Tony a wounded, frustrated look, clearly saying that his abrupt change to an innocuous subject was much crueler than any teasing could ever be. Tony merely smiled. "Objection noted. We'll get there, I promise. For now just answer the question."

"I'm buying a suit. What else does a person do in a men's store?"

"And if that litany you were reciting is any indication, money's tight."

"Until I start my new job, yeah. Ideally, I should have four or five suits, but I can barely afford one."

Tony studied Tim thoughtfully until the younger man squirmed, uncomfortable with the intensity of the gaze being directed at him. "What?"

"Just considering a proposal... but I'm not sure how you'll take it."

"I haven't seriously freaked out yet, have I?"

"Don't know. I keep running off before our encounters have time to sink in with you."

"Yes, you do."

"Okay. I'm volunteering to be your personal shopper and show you how to get what you need without leaving yourself on starvation rations the rest of the month."

"In return for..."

"Having lunch with me."

"But... the way you were talking earlier..."

Tony reached out and stroked his hand down Tim's arm, pausing at the wrist and letting his touch linger there.

"I'm not saying we won't. I just really like this spontaneity thing we've got going. After we shop and eat, if we're both feeling it... then we'll see what happens. You with me, Timmy?"

"Ah, hell. Why not? Lead on."

"Good. First lesson; they're trying to make you think you *have* to buy the suit all put together, the way they did it. Buying pieces can save you a lot of money. Second lesson; you don't have to get all those pieces here."

"I don't?"

"Of course not. C'mon, I'll give you an idea what's worth spending a little more on and what isn't..."

As they moved around the shop, discussing and debating, Tony picked up a few things here and there. Tim, excited at the thought that he might be able to stretch his limited budget much farther than he'd thought, barely noticed. Together, they selected two suit coats and a few pairs of pants in both matching and complimentary colors. Tim looked hungrily at the shoes displayed on the wall, but his companion chuckled and tugged him away. When they got up to the counter, Tony laid his small group of clothes out first and handed the clerk a credit card. He smiled when he read the signature.

"Mr. Dinozzo. Welcome back. It's been a while since we've seen you."

"Dennis. Good to see you too."

"Will this be all, sir?"

"Yes. I'm just replacement shopping today. Whatever's worn out or looking dingy..."

"... has to go. I understand perfectly. Will the young man's order be on the same card?"

Tony gazed at Tim significantly, the question plain in his expression. Tim sighed, looked over the small bundle and pulled out his wallet again, extracting his own card.

"No. This one, please."

"Very good, sir."

As they left with their purchases, Tony looked around for Tim's car, but saw only his vehicle and one other at the curb.

"The Porche isn't yours, I take it?"

"Mine? You have *got* to be kidding. I *had* a '91 Ford, but it got trashed last week. Some drunk driver decided to go sidewalk surfing and mangled it. Now.. I take the bus."

"Sorry. Mine it is, then."

Tim whistled.

"Not like I mind. It's beautiful." He commented respectfully as he climbed in.

"It is at that. Had it for a long time, now. If anybody ever wrecked it or, God forbid, stole it... I don't know what I'd do."

"Cry?" Tim suggested, knowing how bad he'd felt when his simple little beater had been destroyed.

"I just might..."

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A LOCAL DINER: TWO HOURS LATER

"Wow... I'm absolutely stuffed. I haven't eaten like that in weeks."

"That's a damn shame, Timmy. I guess we all have to go through a 'Ramen soup and soda crackers' stage though. Sucks... but it builds character."

"I'm not that far down. Tuna Helper, bologna and store brand bread is more like it, but you weren't far off. You saying you know what that's like?"

"My family has money... but they're not too happy with me at the moment. Could turn out to be a long, *long* moment if I don't drop to my knees and beg forgiveness."

"I can't see you doing that."

"Me either. There are so many more interesting things I can do in that position..."

Tim flushed bright pink and his cohort smiled. "You're feeling it?"

"Starting to..."

"Maybe we should go then."

Tim rose and dropped two ragged dollar bills on the table. He'd agreed to letting Tony buy the meal, but he'd insisted on at least leaving the tip.

"Where?"

"Spontaneity, Timmy, remember? I love spontaneity..."

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TBC....