Sunday, June 16, 2013

Shards To A Whole: Chapter 121

McGee centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.

Chapter 121: Flexible

They got to Savanah three days later than they had intended to, fortunately, Abby had made her plans for day four.

“So what are these mystery plans you’ve got for us tomorrow?” Tim asked as they walked into their hotel room.

“Spa day.”

His eyebrows furrow, and he just looked at her. For a moment he tried to think of something to say, but no words were forming.

“You look really perplexed by that.”

He took a breath and nodded. The image of green goo on his face and cucumber slices over his eyes won’t go away, and he found it really unnerving.


His mouth opened, but words still didn’t come out. So she waited patiently for whatever weirdness was happening in his head to pass, and finally he said, “Abby, you’ve known me twelve years now, at any point during any of those years have I ever done anything to indicate I’d like a spa day?”

“You mean, besides the Femme Glow?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Tim, touch your toes.”


“Put a few of your fingers on one of your toes. Like this.” And she bent from the waist, legs straight, and placed both of her palms on the floor. Three inch platform boots made that feat even more impressive.

He flashed her his this is stupid but I’ll humor you look, and was able to touch the middle of his calf.

Once he was standing up again, she pressed in close, her pelvis to his, hands on his hips, and looked into his eyes. “You have the tightest hips, low back, glutes, quads, and hamstrings of anyone I’ve ever met. Tomorrow night, I’m going to tie you down, spin you out longer than I ever have before, and make you come so hard you pass out, but tomorrow morning, in preparation for that, you’re getting a good, long professional massage to loosen you up, then some hot tub time. I want you all soft and bendy before I get my hands on you. See, my dick’s plastic and straps on, so you having the tightest ass on the east coast doesn’t do anything for me, and is probably part of why you end up so sore after. Plus, from everything I’ve read, the looser you start, the more intense the contractions are when they hit. So tomorrow morning, you, me, spa day.”

He was smiling at that, because if there are two things Tim really likes, sex and massages are definitely on that list, and hot tubs are fairly high up too. Then the smile faded as a thought related to sex and massages hit him.

“So, wait, someone else will be rubbing my ass?”

“Yes, that’s the point of this.”

He looked really disturbed. And why he’s looking disturbed slowly dawned on her.

“Have you ever had a massage by someone other than me before?”

And that sort of got to why he’s looking like that. Yeah, he has had massages by other people, okay, women, (Cracking Tony’s back is the closest he’s come to a massage from or for a guy.) before, but he can count the number of massages he’s had that didn’t lead to sex on one hand, which is a big part of the problem.

She was still staring at him so he said, “Sure. Maxine, Amanda, Helen, Joan…”

“Someone you weren’t dating?”

“Ziva, Kate.”

Abby stepped back for a moment, looking really shocked. “Kate gave you a massage? She didn’t tell me about that.”

For a second there, he’s not sure if her expression is based on Kate poaching on her monopoly on him, or for him poaching on her monopoly on Kate, or if it’s just that neither of them ever mentioned it, but he’s fairly sure that a good chunk of it is that she’s thinking of something significantly more intimate than what actually happened.

“It wasn’t much of anything. On one of my first cases, I was holding her up so she could get some pictures, but it was a tight space, and I had to keep my right foot in a weird position to do it, and that gave me a charley horse. And the perp kept moving, so I kept holding her so she could get the shot, and by the time she did, it hurt so bad I was crying and so cramped up I couldn’t get it stretched out myself, so she helped.”


“Yeah. At first she was making fun of it and me, Probie-ing the snot out of me, really, but once she saw how cramped up it was, my foot was curled up like a fist, and realized I kept holding her up with that bad of a cramp, she apologized and helped me work it out. That was the first time she ever looked at me like I wasn’t a complete idiot. First time anyone on Gibbs’ team made me feel like I might make it as a field agent.”

“She didn’t think you were an idiot, just… green and young. Really young.”

He shrugs. He was young, twenty-four when that happened. “Anyway, yes, I’ve had massages by people other than you, other than girlfriends, but never by a stranger, and never… well… there.”

“And the idea makes you feel uncomfortable?”

“Yeah. The person doing this, the masseuse--”

“Massage therapist is usually the preferred term these days.”

“Okay, the massage therapist, guy or girl?”

“Woman, two of them, it’s a four handed massage. I figured you’d be uncomfortable with a guy.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But… well, okay, I know how I react when you rub my ass, thighs, and back, or for that matter when any other woman’s done that and…” He was blushing a little.

She smiled at him. “You just said Ziva’s given you a massage.”

“Twice. And I laid on my stomach the whole time, and no one can make me admit that anything other than me falling asleep happened while she worked the kinks out of my back after two horrendously long cases.”

Abby laughed and then her smile went from amused to kind. “Remember when I got my rolfing certification?”


“Day one, lesson two: working on guys. A: They will get a hard-on; it happens to all of them. B: It just means the limbic system is working. C: Ignore it. Day one, lesson three: effective draping technique. We spent a good two hours learning how to use the sheets so that you don’t end up feeling like the support for a pup tent.  

“Most of the other people in that class were professional body workers, and I’ll admit, I thought lesson two was kind of funny, but the people I talked to said that it’s standard for any bodywork. You can’t do good work if the guy on the table is embarrassed, cause he’ll tense up and fight what you’re trying to do. And if he’s the kind of client who understands what services are on offer, he’s not looking for a happy ending, so he’s likely to be embarrassed about getting hard, because it’s not supposed to be sexy, but his dick just hasn’t gotten that message. So a good therapist will get your body soft and loose and happy, and keep you covered so you don’t feel exposed, and ignore it so you don’t get embarrassed. We’re going to the highest rated spa in Georgia tomorrow, and the people who work there are very good at what they do.”


“Plus, it’s a couples massage, so I’ll be about two feet away the whole time.”

Massage and hot tub time.
That stopped him again. “I’m going to lay there, two feet away from you, with two women rubbing me all over, while two more women rub you all over?”


“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Well, just a little,” she grinned, liking that double entendre and finished, “but much later that night. The plan for this part was to just get you relaxed enough so you can really bend. Look, when you’ve got my leg over your shoulder and do that little up thrust thing with your back and knees, you can hit my g-spot really well, and I know the anatomy isn’t exactly the same, but it’s pretty close, so that sort of move should work really well on you, but the one thing I know I can’t do is get your leg over my shoulder the same way you do mine because you aren’t flexible enough for it. So, nice long massage, melt that tension away, get your quads and glutes and hip rotators all nice and soft, and then completely mind-blowing sex.”

He was looking pretty unsure of himself, but willing to go along on this, after all, he was all in favor of mind-blowing sex. “It’s really not an issue?”

“Really not. Happens to every guy.”

He sighed.

Tim had to admit, this was awfully nice.

It was a four hand massage, and there had been some sort of mention of hot stones and something called Lomilomi, but for right now, he was mostly aware of the fact that he was lying down on a really comfortable table while one therapist worked on his head and another rubbed his feet, and yeah that was a little tickly at first, but after the second time his foot jerked out of her hand, she shifted her technique, and well, if he was a cat, he’d be purring, loudly.

He wasn’t even aware of the fact that it was possible to have tense feet. But apparently his were. Shelly, the one working on his feet, kept asking him questions along the lines of “Does this hurt?” and suggesting that maybe some yoga or meditation would be a good plan.

Beth, the therapist working on his head, was rubbing small, firm circles into his scalp, and that felt excellent. Unlike his feet, he knew his head could get tense. Like his feet, he didn’t realize how much stress he’d been holding there until his body started to let some of it go.

“Wedding a little more stressful than you thought?” Beth asked him. Abby had been chatting with all four of the ladies, telling them about the wedding and move. And he hadn’t thought it was particularly stressful, hours of sitting in front of that piece of paper willing himself to come up with vows aside, but yeah, he’s tense.

“Apparently.”  And from there he just sort of drifted, letting them work him over, enjoying the way it felt, whatever they were rubbing him with smelled excellent, and the music was pretty nice, too. And yeah, his dick did take note of what was going on, and it certainly approved of this and was a bit disappointed when they stayed away from it. But the sheets they had on him did seem nicely snug so there was no tenting, and he kept his eyes closed, so if they were looking or giggling, he didn’t notice.

At one point one of the ladies, (he doesn’t remember which) started talking about doing some stretching, so he went with it. It burned a little at first, but he was pretty amazed at how bendy they got him. Apparently if you stretch once, then ease off, press into the position the therapist is holding your leg, and then let her stretch you again, you get a lot of range of motion pretty quick.

And eventually they had him flip over, and began to work on the back of him, and yeah, not all of it was particularly comfortable, and frankly some of it hurt, (Some of it really hurt. Shelly did something to his left shoulder and for what felt like a whole minute he could feel pain all through his shoulder, down his arm, into his jaw, and through his chest, then whatever the hell she was pressing on sort of twitched and rippled, and suddenly that dull pain he’d had in his shoulder for, oh, fourteen years at that point, vanished. She did something like that to his neck, and the low headache he thought was just how his body worked went away, too. This is also where it occurred to Tim that while he’s in much better shape than at any other time in his life, that he’s probably not yet in good shape.) but by the time they were done he’s feeling like a cooked noodle, and he’s fairly sure he could touch his toes. (Okay, his ankles, they’re massage therapists, not miracle workers.) By then he was coming to the conclusion that this whole professional massage thing would be worth doing again.

It’s true that he didn’t pay all that much attention to the bed in their room when they first got there, but the whole tie you down make you come so hard you black out thing certainly aimed his attention in that direction, get relaxed enough to really bend heightened it, and Abby standing in front of him, scarlet corset, hair long and loose, black and scarlet masquerade mask, black silk opera gloves, holding four black silk ropes, and he’s suddenly very aware of the possibilities the four post bed this hotel offered.

The one snag was that, of course, his left wrist can’t get tied. He’s still at least a good month away from being able to do that. And for that matter, you aren’t supposed to do anything particularly stressful with any part of you that just got a new tattoo, so his challenge for the night, besides relax, submit, and get fucked, is to keep his left hand on the bedpost.

And yeah, he didn’t know he could get his leg there, let alone what could happen to him if Abby tied his leg there but holy fuck! that angle was way more than worth it. If that little knee bend, thrust, up angle thing with her leg over his shoulder feels even half as good to Abby when he does it to her as it does to him when she does it, he was a fucking genius for figuring it out!

The whole muscle-contractions-are-more-intense-when-you-start-out-relaxed thing, that was totally true. He hadn’t been anticipating that he’d be able to feel them through his whole body. He’d heard of full body orgasms, and thought he’d had them, because he assumed they referred to the tingles (Which is awfully nice, and he really likes). What he didn’t realize was he could come so hard his ears would twitch.

But they did, and so did everything else.

That was the last thing he remembered clearly. Sharp pleasure through his whole body, feeling like he’d never, ever been that tense or that primed to go off, and then everything pulling just a fraction tighter and releasing all at once.

Abby wasn’t kidding about the ‘make you pass out’ part of that. When he was aware again he was so blissed out on endorphins and oxytocin that the entire world seemed to be shimmering in glowing shades of perfect.

He grinned, big, probably stupid smile on his face, at Abby and said, “This is what people are chasing when they get high.” He kissed her long and soft. “You’re the best drug ever, and I am so addicted to you.”

“If you say I’m your heroin, I’ll have to slap you.”

“Don’t tempt me, I’m goofy enough right now, I just might.” Then he giggled a little. “You know, I am pretty pale.”

“But you don’t sparkle.”

“I feel awfully sparkly right now.”

That made her laugh.

The next morning, when he noticed that yes, he’s a little sore, but he’s only a little sore, he asked Abby about maybe doing some yoga with her, because she does it most mornings, and while it’s true that he appreciates watching her do that, he’s never joined in.

And yeah, he’s clumsy, and it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be, but the view is nice, and everyone has said that some sort of exercise beyond occasionally running down suspects/away from dogs would be good for him.

Plus, this whole flexible thing seems like it might have unexpected benefits that are worth cultivating, and he’s rapidly developing some suspicions as to why Jimmy spends an hour every other day at the gym doing some sort of yoga thing.

Though he’s fairly sure this isn’t something he’ll ever be comfortable enough with to do in public.


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