Chapter 94: Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll
“What are you two doing next Saturday?” Jimmy asked Tim and Tony during the last week of June.
“Nothing planned.”
“I’d have to ask Ziva, but I don’t think we’ve got anything
going on.”
“Good. Molly’s finally sleeping through the night, so
Breena’s parents are taking her for the night as a late anniversary present.
And we were hoping you’d be interested in getting dressed up and going out
clubbing with us.” The six of them hadn’t been out on a date night since before
Molly was born, so that was sounding awfully good.
Tim smiled, clubbing with Abby is always a good thing. “We
can do that.”
“Even if Ziva has plans, I think she’d reschedule for that.”
The plan was to meet up at Tim and Abby’s place, because
they lived closest to everything, and then consolidate into one car and go from
there.
It’s getting onto seven, and everyone should be there soon.
Tim’s ready to go, dressed, made up, and looking forward to tonight. Abby’s
finishing up her hair, she’s pulling it back into the two little buns, one on
each side of her head, and doing something sort of Lolita Goth, in a little
lacy black dress with petticoats and high boots.
He thinks it’s ridiculously cute and way too hot.
The bell rings and he heads for the door.
Just then Palmer and Breena showed up. Palmer’s in a suit,
too. Granted, Tony in gray looks like James Bond and Palmer in brown looks like
the professor in charge of the Library Science department at a particularly
esteemed liberal arts college. Meanwhile Breena’s in a halter dress that shows
off a lot of naked back.
Tim looks at himself in a kilt, boots, and T-shirt and
sighs. “Next time, I think we’ve got to define what dressed up and clubbing
means. Come in. We’ll get changed. Palmer, it’s your anniversary, where are we
going?”
“Somewhere you can wear the kilt, but you’ll need a jacket
and tie to go with it.”
“Okay.”
“Is there somewhere in DC that you are dressed for?” Jimmy
asks.
Abby comes out. “Three places.” She looks at the other two
couples, sighs and heads back to their bedroom. “Give me about ten minutes.”
Breena’s staring at Tim. “Is that black nail polish?”
He looks at his hands. “Yeah.”
She squints up at him. “Eyeliner?”
He nods.
“Cool. When you get dressed up, you get dressed up. Next
time, you pick the place.”
“Will do. Grab yourself something to drink; we’ll be ready
soon.”
He quickly washed off the eye makeup and brushed through his
hair to tame it back down again, but left on the nail polish. About five minutes
after that saw him in a maroon button down, black suit jacket, black tie, and
kilt.
“Really, you think him in makeup is cool?” Tony is asking
Breena as he heads out of the bedroom.
She shrugs. “Boys in eyeliner is hot in general, and for Tim
in specific, yeah, it looks good. Kind of dangerous.”
Tony’s staring at her like she’s speaking in tongues. “You have
met McGee, right?”
“Tony, I’m right here.”
Tony looks over at him. “Yeah, but you’re not exactly the
poster boy for sex, drugs, or rock and roll.”
“He certainly looked like him five minutes ago,” Breena
says.
Tim smiles. “I love sex, didn’t like the drugs I tried, and
rock and roll is great, but I like jazz better.”
“I went to college, too, you know.”
“Yes, but you spent the whole time studying.”
Tim smiles, a little wicked glint in his eyes. “Not the
whole time.”
Abby comes out, makeup toned down, hair loose around her
shoulders, wearing a pretty, and, for her, conservative pink dress and says, “All
ready?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy answers, ready to get onto the dancing part of
the night.
“You really did illegal drugs in college?” Tony asks Tim as
they drive into town.
Jimmy’s at the wheel, because he knows where they’re going, and he and Breena are the only ones with a car that seats six. Say what you like about Minivans, but if you want to go somewhere with a bunch of your friends, they’re convenient.
Jimmy’s at the wheel, because he knows where they’re going, and he and Breena are the only ones with a car that seats six. Say what you like about Minivans, but if you want to go somewhere with a bunch of your friends, they’re convenient.
“You didn’t?” Jimmy asks.
“No! Basketball team. Random piss tests. Everyone else
around me was playing with coke, but I stuck to alcohol. So, really, you did
drugs?”
Tim rolls his eyes a little, surprised that this would get
to Tony. “I did a lot of things in college.”
“But, illegal, really?”
“Tony, how many felonies do you think I commit a year? In a
good year, it’s five or six. I’ve got most of the guys we put away beat by a
long margin. And we’re not just talking about civil liberties infractions here,
I mean, I’m guilty of cyber-attacks on the US government, which is considered
terrorism, attacks on foreign governments, which is espionage, and honestly,
since I’ve had orders for some of it from Vance or Jarvis, possibly causus
belli should it ever get traced back to us.”
That stops Tony, makes him think. Tim knows that Tony knows
he doesn’t always play by the rules, but he’s getting the sense that exactly
how far off the beaten path he sometimes goes is just dawning on him. Finally
Tony says, “You’re not killing people.”
 |
| Tim, freshman year |
“What did you try?” Abby asks, and he realizes this is
something they’ve never talked about.
“Pot once. Just made me sleepy. Didn’t feel good enough to
be worth the money or risk.”
“You probably got three quarters oregano with just a little
real pot, then,” Jimmy adds.
“Could be, not like I knew what I was doing. Peyote laced
with acid. Didn’t like that at all. E.”
“I thought you didn’t party,” Jimmy says.
“I didn’t, well not much. Didn’t mean I wasn’t interested in
trying it.”
“But you didn’t like it?” Breena asks.
“It was better than pot, way better than peyote. I just really
don’t like being out of control in a way where I can’t get it back if I need
it. That’s also why you’ve never seen me anything more than mildly drunk.”
“No safeword,” Abby says.
“Exactly.”
“How did you pass the drug test?” Tony asks.
“Six years between doing the drugs and the test. All of that
was first semester freshman year.”
Tony just stares at him like he’d grown a second head. “You
were doing peyote in your freshman year?”
He holds up his index finger. “Once. We were playing Call of
Cthulu and the GM thought that each of us taking a button before the game would
make it more intense. One of the other players thought lacing them with LSD
would be even better.”
| Cthulu |
Abby winces and then covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh,
that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard!”
Tim’s nodding at her. “Yeah, it really was.”
“What’s a Cthulu?” Breena asks.
“Nasty squid demon-god,” Abby says. “No wonder you didn’t
like it.”
“Yeah. Good rule of thumb, avoid hallucinogenic drugs and
horror role-playing games based on the idea that you’re slowly going insane. It’s
been almost twenty years, and I still won’t read Lovecraft.”
“So, wait.” Tony’s staring at him, looking really confused. “You
little D&D geeks were snorking down hardcore drugs while you played?”
Tim rolls his eyes a little. “Not usually. Most of the time
it was caffeine, cigarettes, and sugar.”
“You smoked?” Tony doesn’t look like he believed that,
either.
“Not really. But if you’re in a room with five other guys,
and four of them are smoking, taking a drag or two at the start of the night
knocks out your sense of smell long enough to make being there bearable.
Palmer, you’re awfully quiet, how about you?”
 |
| Jimmy 1997 |
“Wait, were you selling it?” Tony’s staring at Palmer like
he’s never seen him before, too.
“No, I meant I could buy it easy. I handled the orders, so
getting an extra bottle or two a year wasn’t an issue.”
“Did you like it?” Ziva asks.
“Oh yeah.” He grins at the memory. “Unlike Tim, I liked
everything I tried. Liked it a lot. Tried a whole lot, too. K was a good way to
cool off on the weekend. E was good, too, lot of fun with pot. Then I was
twenty, thirsty all the time, just madly thirsty, and one day I was chugging
soda, like maybe six liters of it in two hours, trying to make thirsty stop.
Two days later, when I got out of the diabetic coma and the doctors explained
how close to dead I had been, I decided taking better care of myself was a good
idea.”
Palmer rolled his eyes a little, glancing away from traffic
to the rest of them. “I suppose it’s sort of funny. I tried everything I could
get my hands on for two solid years, and then I almost died from an overdose of
sugar. Anyway, once I was out of the hospital, that was the end of sugar, most
carbs, and all the drugs. Started hitting the gym and yoga, and I’m a lot
healthier now.”
Tony just stares at the two other guys. Then he looked at
the girls. “Let me guess,” he asks Breena, “you used to shoot heroin?”
“Nope. No drugs for me.”
“Ziva?”
“Not recreationally. But my training involved being
subjected to some lesser known compounds to get used to them. It’s much easier
to keep your head if you know what is happening to you.”
“Of course it did. Abby?”
She smiles. “Like Jimmy, you name it, I tried it at least
once. And I got hired before the mandatory drug tests, so that’s how I got in.”
Two hours later, the girls are dancing with each other. The
guys are relaxing at the table they’d staked out when they got to the club.
Tony looks at Tim and says, “Really, a kilt?”
Tim smirks a little.
“Nail polish?”
Tim looks at his fingernails. All night people have been
looking at him like he’s pretty cool, and especially because he’s standing next
to Tony, he’s really been enjoying it. “It’s matte black.”
“You don’t dress up in her clothing when you’re alone, do
you?”
Tony shudders a little.
“I’m 6’1” and 183. I’d look dumb as hell in her clothing.”
Palmer came back with the drinks. “Okay, I saw him shuddering.
What are you freaking him out with now?”
“I’m not freaked out, it’s just weird.”
“The drugs or the kilt?” Palmer put the drinks in front of
each of them.
“It’s a skirt.”
“So?” Jimmy says.
Tim takes a drink, watching the two of them. It feels pretty
nice to have Jimmy not weirded-out by this.
“We’re guys. Not wearing skirts is like one of the primary
defining characteristics of guyness.”
“Tim?” Jimmy asks.
“Yeah?”
Jimmy kept his face straight and asks with a completely deadpan expression, “You got balls?”
Tim laughs, hard, leans back against the booth, sips his
scotch, and says, “Last time I checked.”
And Jimmy just looks at Tony, huge smirk on his face.
“Yeah, but was that before you put the skirt on?” Tony asks.
“No, that was about twenty minutes ago when Abby and I snuck
off and she was licking them.” Tim takes another drink, feeling especially mellow,
a little wicked, and just wonderfully fine.
This time, instead of looking disturbed, Tony just grins,
shaking his head.
Tim laughs again. “Ease of access.”
“You don’t need a kilt for that,” Jimmy adds.
Tim raises his eyebrow at Jimmy.
Jimmy snorts a quick laugh at them. “Come on, you didn’t
invent the quickie. Back when twice a year was a good score for you,” he shifts
his gaze from Tim to Tony, “and you were sticking your dick in any girl that
would let you, I was having sex on every horizontal and most of the vertical
surfaces at work, including Gibbs’ and Ducky’s desks. I can get her completely
naked, me completely naked, both of us off, and dressed again in ten minutes, eight
if I’m in scrubs and she’s not wearing pantyhose. And if you think doing it in
the back hall of a club is kinky, try sneaking off during one of Ducky’s
monologues to the storage closet, having him think those
noises you’re making are signs of fascination at his topic, and then making it
back for the close, without him noticing.” Palmer settles back into his seat,
takes a drink of his Diet Sprite, and looks immensely smug.
Tony shakes his head. “I think I’ve got it figured out.
Neither of you ever got laid in college.”
This caused both Tim and Jimmy to bluster.
“Okay, not literally, I know you both got laid a few times.
But regularly? Not even close. And to make up for it, you both want everyone on
earth to know you’re having sex now.”
Tim and Jimmy both seem to think about that.
Tim shrugs. “That’s probably true.”
“I just really like sex,” Jimmy says.
“No.” Tony points at himself. “I just really like sex. You
like sex in public that can get you fired or killed. Gibbs’ desk? He’d headslap
your brains out through your nose.” He turns to Tim. “And you like... Hell, let’s not get to into
that...”
“What do you like?” Jimmy asks Tim.
Tim smiles, sips his drink again. “Let’s put it this way,
there’s a good shot that standing next to me, you look vanilla.”
“Really?” That’s got Jimmy’s interest. He’s staring at Tim,
like if he looks hard enough he can figure this out.
Tim thinks about what he knows about Jimmy, and realizes it’s equally likely that standing next to Jimmy, he looks vanilla. Gibbs’ desk? Sex in Autopsy, with Ducky there? Jimmy’s got a pretty hardcore exhibitionism kink. “Maybe. What exactly is it with you and shoes?”
“Okay, can we not talk about that? The shoe thing is pretty
creepy,” Tony says, staring at Jimmy.
“What? You look at Ziva in that outfit and your eyes stop
going down when they hit her ankles? Right!”
“I’m not saying I don’t appreciate the shoes. I’m just
saying I don’t know what designer, what they’re made of, or for that matter,
what color they are, off the top of my head.” Palmer opened his mouth to answer,
and Tony quickly cut in, “And I don’t want to know that you know that off the
top of your head, either.”
Tim decides to get them off of Ziva’s shoes. “So, what you’re
saying is, you think that because the two of us spent so much time being fairly
timid introverts that now we’re showing off right and left because we can?”
 |
| Breena ready to dance. |
“Oh, we’ll do it when we get home, too,” Jimmy said with a
very wide and happy grin, watching Breena dance, his eye tracking the sway of
her skirt on her hips, and the long smooth expanse of naked back. “And probably
in the morning, hopefully in the afternoon, as well. Breena’s parents have
Molly until tomorrow night, and we are going to take advantage of it.”
“Too?” Tony looks away from Ziva to Jimmy. “Okay, I know he
got in a quickie, when did you?”
“‘Bout an hour ago. You guys were dancing with your girls
and didn’t notice us head off.”
“Back hallway?” Tim asks. There were a few good spots back
there, and Tim was in no way surprised to find that the sort of club Jimmy and
Breena liked had several good spots for a quiet fuck against the wall.
“Top floor.” Jimmy pointed to the second level of the club. “Just
looked like we were dancing close and slow. Amazingly enough, the fact that I’ve
got on pants in no way stopped or hindered that.”
“What do you do about the zipper? I hate getting caught in
them,” Tim asks.
Jimmy takes a moment to think about that. “Never really
thought about it. Just isn’t a problem for me.”
“You know how I deal with the zipper?” Tony said, voice low
and conspiratorial. He waited a beat for them both to lean in to hear his
answer. “By having my pants on the floor about ten feet away from my dick.
Works every time.”
 |
| Dancing |
“So, have you ever had sex in public?” Jimmy asks Tony.
“Of course, back when I was in college, you know, when you’re
supposed to do stuff like that.”
“In college you’re supposed to read books, go to class, and
study,” Tim starts, not looking away from Abby, she’s saying something to
Breena, watching him closely, and he knows that look means good things are
going to start happening soon.
“And occasionally ingest hardcore narcotics,” Jimmy
finishes.
Tony’s shaking his head. “Nerds. How did I end up with two
nerds for best friends?” He sighs and points to himself. “Phys ed major. My job
in college was to play basketball, party, and get laid. And let me tell you, if
they had had an honors program for partying and getting laid, I would have
gotten it. I set the standard for partying and getting laid. Young basketball
players at Ohio State are still being told of the legendary DiNozzo partying
and laid technique, and they seek to reach such heights, but fail. So, yeah, I’ve
done it in public, with three girls, at once, in a room with something like one
hundred and fifty other people, while my frat brothers took pictures. But I’m
not in college anymore, so I don’t feel the need to act like it.”
“Plus Ziva isn’t going to let you get drunk and hook up with
three co-eds,” Tim says.
Jimmy’s still thinking about that. “What were you doing with
three of them? I get two. What was the third one doing?”
Tony wiggles his right hand at Jimmy.
“Oh. Yeah. Didn’t do anything like that in college.”
“Me either.”
Jimmy looks at Tim. “Two at once?”
 |
| Very happy McGee |
“No.”
Tony takes a drink, settles back, enjoying his turn to look
smug, watching the girls.
Tim stares at him, and his eyes narrow. “You know, what? I
don’t buy it. This isn’t maturity. You’re just getting old. You were
thirty-five when I got to NCIS, right?”
Tony looks at Tim. “Yeah.”
“So back then, you and your frat buddies were still heading
off to Spring Break in Mexico and trying to relive your college days.”
Tony smirks. “And succeeding.”
“So, back then, you would have had sex in a club.”
“But I wouldn’t have done it in a skirt.”
“Only because you don’t have the balls to wear one.”
Tony snorts.
Jimmy finishes his drink. “You should change your wedding
outfits to kilts. Make him wear one. You know Ducky’s gonna wear one anyway,
and you like them...”
Tim smiles while Tony looks appalled.
“You’re just saying that because as Abby’s best man you’re
safe from having to wear one.”
Jimmy laughs. “Did you not hear Breena? Tim’s picking the
next club we go to, and my guess is she’ll have me coated in makeup and decked
out for it.”
Tim looks at Jimmy for a few seconds. “You’re too skinny for
a kilt. Places we go, leather pants, chains, ripped t-shirt, contacts. Breena’ll
probably do something small and black with the back tattoos again.”
“First off, yeah, you are picking the next club. Second of
all, too skinny? Tim, you weigh ten pounds more than I do.”
“Ten pounds that matter.”
Tony watches them bicker about it for a moment before
saying, “I think Ziva and I are staying home.”
Jimmy grins. “Nope. She’ll go for it, which means you can’t
back out. I mean, unless you want Tim and I to take her out.”
“She’d eat you two pervs whole and spit you out.”
“There are worse fates,” Jimmy says with a huge grin on his
face.
Tim smirks at Tony, enjoying this way too much. “Just like
laser tag, Tony, once you get over how you think you look, you’ll have a lot of
fun. Who knows, maybe your thirty-five-year-old self will come back out again.
The clubs Abby and I like more or less expect you to have sex in them.”
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