McGee centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here. Grown up stuff in this chapter, skip if you don't like.
Chapter 23: Something Hinkey
Normally, Tony wouldn't do this. But, to quote Abby, something
"hinkey" is going on with McGee, and as a good friend and a good partner,
it's his job to get to the bottom of it.
Tony is standing outside
of Tim's apartment. He knows Tim is home, because his car is parked in
its normal spot. But it's not supposed to be in that spot. He's supposed
to be out tonight.
He knocks, and there's no answer. Not that he
expected one. Tim had already told him that no, they couldn't get
together tonight, because he had some sort of unnamed errand. Something
quote, "Really, Tony, you don't want to know," about.
It's got to
be a woman. And really, honestly, it worries Tony. This isn't just a
matter of curiosity. Between his own personal experience on how badly
everyone involved can get hurt with a secret romance, and McGee's
unerring ability to hook-up with psychos, a secret romance has all the
ingredients for them to end up hunting down McGee's killer.
Plus,
they're partners, and okay, yeah, he'll tease McGee about a girlfriend,
or hell... boyfriend?—Oh, God, is that why he keeps saying it's not a
girl? Okay, some of Abby's hints sort of leaned that way. Is that why
McGee thinks he really doesn't want to know? Oh well, no biggie if it
is. Unless he's about to walk into something he'd really rather not
see.—but he should be honest about stuff like this.
He knocks one more time—maybe McGee's in the head or something—and two more minutes go by with no answer.
Lock
picking isn't his best skill. Usually he's got Ziva or Gibbs around for
doing that. But not his best skill and can't do it at all are not in
any way the same thing. So, yeah, he's not setting any records for
getting into McGee's apartment, but eventually the door opens.
He
shuts it behind himself quietly, and is about to yell out "Hello" when
he realizes what he's hearing. Sex. Fast, hard, and from the sounds of
it, hot, sex. Sex loud enough that he's sure no one in that apartment
heard him knock. Tony's honestly embarrassed that it takes him a few
seconds to identify the sounds. Obviously he's been on the shelf too
damn long if he's actually got to think about it to figure out what he's
hearing.
He supposes that he should turn around, walk out, and then verbally beat the hell out to McGee tomorrow for not telling him.
But
his feet are pulling him toward McGee's room. Really, he should leave.
It's one thing to break into a guy's home to prove he's lying to you.
It's a whole other thing to treat his sex life as your own personal peep
show.
The fact that he's thinking that has in no way altered the
path his feet are taking. It's like his brain is sitting in his head,
giving orders, but nothing below his ears is paying attention to it.
The door to McGee's room is open, and he steps through it.
The
sight before his eyes is so shocking to him that he cannot process it.
He literally cannot attach people he knows to the image in front of him.
It's beautiful, artistic, and ridiculously erotic.
The
girl, he can't wrap his mind around the idea that this might be Abby,
so he thinks of her as 'the girl' is on top of a waist high dresser,
wearing black stockings with red ribbons lacing up the back. Her legs
seem impossibly long, one of them wrapped around 'the guys,' hip—Once
again, his mind refuses to attach the identity of McGee to what he's
seeing, so he thinks of the male as 'the guy.'—the other stretched
straight up, along his chest, her foot, clad in a red stiletto heel,
near his ear. Her back is arched, her head back, long black hair lightly
brushing the top of the dresser with each thrust.
The guy is
naked. He has one hand on her hip helping to steady her, the other on
the calf near his ear. His face is turned toward that leg, kissing it.
He's moving fast, nothing slow or gentle about the sex, but the look on
his face is intense and reverent.
From Tony's place next to the
door, he can see there's some sort of red rope, it looks soft and shiny,
across the girl's back, just below her shoulder blades. Each strand of
the rope extends up her arms, crisscrossing, mirroring the lacing of the
stockings, until her hands meet above her head, and the ropes come
together, securing her hands to each other. From there the rope twists
around itself, terminating in a fairly complex, and very secure-looking,
knot on a hook in the ceiling.
Tony can see the girl is in front of a mirror, so the guy can look at her in front of him, and see her back at the same time.
The mirror. Tony's looking at this in the mirror and he realizes that both of them have their eyes open.
The
guy is looking at him. Not slowing down, not stopping, not acting
flustered or embarrassed. He's just staring at Tony, saying nothing, and
fucking like a porn star.
And that's when the fact that this is McGee and Abby snaps into Tony's mind.
"Oh
my God." He whispered it the first time. "Oh my God!" The second time
was in a regular voice. "OH MY GOD!" He thinks he might have shrieked it
as he tripped over his feet running out of McGee's apartment.
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