McGee drove the Mustang with exaggerated care, more out of concern for his passenger than for the car. He glanced over at Tony. "You okay?"
"Yes, McGee, I am okay," Tony said with deliberately slow emphasis, letting McGee know he was tired of being asked that question.
"Sorry."
"S'okay." Tony gave him a wan smile. He winced, tongue flicking out to touch the spot where his lower lip had been split. "Thanks for driving. Not sure I could handle having Ziva take me home."
McGee grimaced, nodding in agreement. Gibbs drove like he was always on the verge of being ten minutes too late for something of critical importance, but at least he knew the rules of the road, he just didn't obey them. McGee wasn't so sure Ziva even knew the rules of the road. When he'd shown her around D.C. she had a disturbing tendency to want to drive on the left.
McGee was somewhat surprised Ziva had been willing to give up the notion of driving Tony home. She'd seemed rather adamant when they were standing around Tony's desk. A little fast talking on McGee's part, and a few not so subtle insults with regards to her driving ability from Abby, had more or less convinced Ziva her driving Tony home would be a bad idea. But what McGee thought really sealed the deal was Tony's own quiet request made in the elevator.
Even though they had been monitoring everything in the hotel room, McGee still felt like something happened there he didn't quite understand or had missed. Ziva and Tony appeared to be getting along better than they had before the assignment. And she seemed more concerned about him than she ever had before.
"You didn't really sleep with Ziva, did you?"
"Sleep? I didn't get much sleep, Probie." Tony snorted. "Ziva snores like a drunken sailor with emphysema."
"That wasn't what I meant and you know it." McGee scowled. "Those FBI agents seemed pretty sure you'd gone all the way."
"They were pretty sure we were really Jean-Paul and Sofia too." Tony chuckled. "Foundation of a good illusion is to appear to be what people want to see. It's all smoke and mirrors, McGee."
"I'd have been content to watch pay per view. It was her idea to pretend to be making love." Tony shrugged. "I went along with it, because it added to the cover. Arguing would have meant moving the mirrors and generating more smoke."
He looked at McGee, green eyes fixing him with a pointed look. "Even if Gibbs hadn't been watching, I was not going to mess up the best thing in my life for a piece of ass who wouldn't give me the time of day once the job was done."
McGee winced. That was a harsh assessment, but he wasn't sure Tony was wrong. Ziva had been a spy, and McGee had no trouble envisioning her using sex as a weapon or tool for getting the job done. McGee had never slept with anyone who didn't see sex as being something intimate or at the very least a mutual expression of affection, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
McGee didn't want cold and meaningless, ever. Given the number of partners Tony admitted to having before Gibbs, it was a safe bet he'd done meaningless, but McGee doubted he'd ever had sex for any reason other than mutual pleasure and satisfaction. McGee thought Tony was way too warm and personable to really ever treat sex as a means to an end. Not that he'd ever tell Tony that.
"If I was going to whore myself, I'd have done it years ago. For a hell of a lot better return than this job." Tony sighed softly, something unreadable in his eyes. "I'd have made nice with all those wealthy debutants, who were just about as interesting as watching paint dry, that my father thought I should ingratiate myself with."
McGee blinked. "Didn't even know there were such things as debutantes any more."
"Kind of like unicorns." Tony snickered. "More myth than reality, but trust me, they still exist."
McGee nodded. Tony's stories were often just stories, but when he said 'trust me' it was usually safe to do so.
"Is that why you and your father don't..."
"Let's not go there, Probie, hunh." Although worded like a request it was a clearly not a suggestion.
McGee swallowed hard, recognizing the tone, and being smart, he let the subject drop. He knew better than to challenge Tony when he sounded like that. It reminded him of Gibbs.
He concentrated on the road, and trying to shift smoothly. He rarely drove a standard, hadn't in years in fact, and the last thing he wanted to do was grind the gears in Tony's baby. He wasn't sure Tony wouldn't hit him for that. But he was pretty sure he'd deserve it if Tony did. The Mustang was a thing of beauty.
"Listen to the engine," Tony instructed quietly. "She'll tell you when its time to shift."
"I'm?ah?I was never very?good with stick shift." He gave Tony an apologetic glance.
"Relax." Tony slouched further into the seat, giving McGee a far more understanding look than he expected. "Just takes a little practice."
"Abby's good at stick." McGee cautiously shifted, pleased to have the car accelerate smoothly through the intersection.
"Yeah, I know."
"Should have let her drive," McGee muttered.
He was unaware Tony heard his soft comment until he patted McGee on the arm. "You're doing fine."
Tony lightly tapped his wrist with two fingers, signaling it was time to shift again. "Abby wouldn't have left me at home alone. And I'm not sure how to explain Gibbs coming by."
"You could just tell her you guys are a couple," McGee suggested. "She'd understand. Hell, she'd probably be thrilled."
"Yeah." Tony sighed deeply. "Probably." He shrugged. "Think that's more Gibbs' call than mine."
McGee knew Gibbs and Abby had a long history and a strange relationship that was akin to father and daughter, but it wasn't like she wasn't Tony's friend too. He frowned. When he'd discovered Gibbs and Tony were a couple, they'd mentioned something about an agreement, but they'd never gone into specifics. "Is that part of the agreement you two have? Keeping Abby in the dark?"
"Not exactly, no." Tony rubbed at his temple. "Might need to talk to Gibbs about it. Could be time to rethink the whole thing."
McGee nodded, opting to just pretend he understood what Tony was talking about. It wasn't really his business. While he liked being in on their secret, McGee was uncomfortable being the only one. He worried that he might slip at the wrong moment. And it would be good to know he had back up for moments like what happened at the hotel. He'd nearly missed his cue to usher Ziva out of the room and block her view.
He winced when he stalled out the Mustang at a red light a block from Tony's place. Tony shook his head. Rather than yell at him the way McGee expected, Tony calmly talked him through restarting the car and getting it through the intersection.
"Long as you don't grind the gears or burn the clutch, I'm not going to yell at you." Tony patted the dash. "She's too fine a lady to be abused like that."
"Where did you get this car?"
Tony shook his head. "Story for another night."
McGee's curiosity was piqued. Tony had evidently not found the car at some dealership, in the newspaper or online. It wouldn't have much of a story if he had. There was only so much embellishment even Tony could add to something so mundane.
McGee pulled into Tony's parking spot, neatly cutting the engine. He tried not to feel overly proud when Tony gave him a quiet ?good job, McGee'. He kept thinking that eventually he'd stop looking forward to those little words of praise, or even acknowledging them. So far, they still made him want to puff out his chest a little. Getting them from both Tony and Gibbs made for an exceptional day.
Tony levered himself out of the car. McGee was pleased the taller man was now steady on his feet. There was something strangely unnerving about seeing Tony at less than his best. It was unexpected, kind of like Gibbs giving him coffee. McGee preferred things to be predictable.
McGee tossed Tony the keys without even thinking. He was impressed in spite of himself when Tony deftly caught them, almost without even looking. McGee might excel at video games but he didn't have the same degree of eye hand coordination as his teammates. Time in the field had certainly improved his ability but it wasn't as natural for him as it was for Tony, Gibbs or Ziva.
He followed Tony up to his apartment. McGee toed out of his shoes, leaving them next to Tony's on the small rack in the front entry way. Even though the former Marine hadn't said so, McGee knew he was expected to stay with Tony until Gibbs arrived.
"You want something to drink?"
McGee shook his head. "I'm good."
He wondered if Tony might actually take Ducky's advice and pour himself a stiff drink. He really didn't think alcohol was a good idea. Not with a concussion. McGee was relieved Tony grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge instead and headed into the living room.
Tony didn't so much sit on the couch as settle into it. He stretched out his long so that his feet rested on the coffee table. He made a graceful gesture with one hand, inviting McGee to make himself at home.
"What do you think of the Director taking Ducky to the ball?" Tony asked.
McGee grinned, leaning back into the recliner. "I'm thinking he'll have a lot more fun than she will."
"Probably." Tony snickered. "Betting Ducky knows damn near everyone there."
"Definitely makes him a good escort choice. He can introduce her."
"Point."
McGee sat forward. "So what did you think of her dress?"
Tony sipped his water, pursing his lips. "I think she's a beautiful woman who has no idea how to dress."
McGee blinked in surprise. Being involved with Gibbs had not lessened Tony's vocal appreciation for a woman's assets. He'd have thought the tight fitting, push up dress would have met with Tony's automatic approval.
"You don't think she looked good?"
Tony shrugged. "Wasn't exactly the sort of gown that would give her the image she should be going for."
McGee cocked his head to one side. "What image should she be going for?"
"One that makes people realize NCIS is more a force to be reckoned with than they think or expect."
McGee raised both eyebrows, unsure of how a dress would help or hinder that impression. "How would--"
Tony pointed a finger at McGee. "She's the director of a lesser known federal agency with a mid-range budget and limited jurisdiction. It would be better for her to look like an intelligent, capable woman who is in control and just happens to be good looking. Rather than trying to attract attention to herself as a good looking woman."
Tony looked rueful. "Right or wrong, guys in charge tend to be dismissive of women on general principal. No reason for her to give them more fodder by appealing to their less intellectual side from the outset."
Tony shifted on the couch, wincing as he resettled into a more comfortable position. "Marines and navy types will respect the office, or so I'm told, but that doesn't mean they will automatically respect her. And even the office doesn't get much respect from other law enforcement agencies. So she's got to work at leveling the playing field."
Tony took another sip of water. "She should have gone for something classy with a bit less cleavage. Maybe a shorter skirt rather than the whole floor length thing. Could have still done sexy, just should have been something more like Katherine Hepburn or Princes Diana. Simple, elegant and understated rather than flashy."
McGee stared at him. He never would have expected that sort of intellectual commentary from Tony in a million years. The man was definitely smarter than he let on.
"Politics is about appearance more than substance." Tony rolled his eyes. "More smoke and mirrors, Probie. Just smoke and mirrors. But when the stakes are high, every little bit counts. And the stakes can't get much higher than when it comes to establishing your credibility."
Tony sighed, tipping his head back to rest on the couch. He looked pale and tired under his bruises. McGee had a feeling Tony knew more about politics and proving himself than just from having worked at NCIS. Hell, McGee had worked at NCIS for several years and still wouldn't have made the same observations Tony just had. He wondered if Kate would have or Ziva. Neither had ever shown much skin on the job, and both actively tried to downplay their gender unless the situation required them to draw attention to it.
"You want something to eat?" McGee asked hesitantly, looking for a safer topic of conversation. Something he hoped wouldn't surprise him quite the way the last one had.
He didn't think Tony had eaten anything since breakfast, and he knew he hadn't. They could probably order in easily enough. Pizza or Chinese would work well enough.
Tony grimaced, eyes drifting closed. "Not sure I want to risk the stomach just yet."
McGee nodded. Concussions could be like that. He winced. He should have known better than to ask about food. McGee blushed when his stomach rumbled loudly.
Tony chuckled, opening his eyes. "Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean you can't eat, Probie." He took a sip of his water before pulling his feet off the coffee table. He moaned softly, repositioning his weight in preparation for getting up. "Think there's something in the fridge---"
"Just stay put. I can look." McGee interrupted quickly. Gibbs would probably have his balls in a vice if he found out McGee had let Tony wait on him after he'd gotten hurt.
Tony nodded slowly, giving in graciously. He moved so that he was reclining on the couch, pulling the colorful afghan from the back as he did. "Should be a Tupperware container on the top shelf. Louisa probably left something in there."
McGee remembered Gibbs telling him about Louisa the day after he'd found out about them. She was an elderly neighbor that seemed to have taken a shine to Tony. It had amazed McGee to find out that the feeling was mutual. The fondness in Tony's tone whenever he mentioned her made that very clear. McGee had yet to meet the woman, but he was looking forward to being introduced some day.
He opened the container he found on the top shelf. A careful sniff confirmed it was tuna noodle casserole. McGee selected a cupboard at random, pleased he'd guessed right when he found the plates. It took two guesses to locate the silverware.
He spooned out a modest amount of casserole onto a plate and put it in the microwave. When he put the Tupperware container back in the fridge he grabbed a bottle of water. McGee didn't think Tony would object to him in eating in the living room.
Tony had turned on the TV. The icon at the bottom of the screen indicated it was the Turner Classic Movies. McGee frowned, trying to figure out which movie it was. He didn't know much about current films much less classics.
"Crest of the Wave." Tony obligingly filled him in. "Was filmed in Scotland in 1953 and released in England the same year. Didn't make it to the states until 1954." Tony pointed to the man just stepping on screen. "Gene Kelly." He pointed to another. "Jeff Richards."
McGee had a vague idea of who Gene Kelly was, but Jeff Richards didn't ring any bells. He shrugged. If he asked, Tony would probably fill him in, but it didn't matter at the moment. He took a bite of the casserole, appreciating the flavor. Definitely home made.
"This movie isn't one of my favorites, but it's not all bad either."
"War movie?" McGee took another bite of the casserole.
"Sort of." Tony rearranged the afghan a bit so it covered his feet. "Set during world war two. They are working on building a new type of torpedo."
McGee settled into watch. The movie didn't have any of the special effects he'd come to take for granted, but the story was engaging. He was beginning to see some of the appeal old movies had.
Tony would periodically identify other actors, occasionally adding another film name they'd been in. McGee mentally filed away the names for future reference. He looked over to ask Tony about a still unidentified actor when he realized the other man had fallen asleep. He briefly considered turning the movie off, but Tony had fallen asleep with it on, the silence would likely disturb him more than the noise.
He checked his watch. Gibbs should be arriving soon. Hopefully, he wouldn't object to letting McGee stay long enough to see the end of the movie. He really wanted to see how it turned out. And he wouldn't mind having the chance at seconds of Louisa's casserole.
Author's Chapter Notes:
McGee and Tony talk on the way home.
Chapter End Notes:
This is the first chapter of a longer story.