123: Back To Work
“You’re back!” Ziva seemed pretty
happy to see him as Tim strolled into the bullpen.
“I am back.”
Ziva hopped up out of her seat
and wrapped Tim in a long and enthusiastic hug.
“I’m happy to see you, too,
Ziva.” He’s flashing Tony the what the
hell is going on look, while patting her back.
Ziva pulled back looking him deeply
in the eyes. “Do not ever leave again!”
“Uh…”
“She was on phone records,
financials, and emails, the whole time you were gone,” Tony added, sounding
amused.
 |
| How do you do it? |
Tim rolled his eyes. “You were
looking through by hand weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And Gibbs kept yelling at her
for being too slow. Search faster, Ziver! It only takes McGee half an hour to
do this!”
“I’ve written programs to
automate most of the searching.”
“That’s what you do over there?”
Tim smiled. “Some of it.”
“You’re looking good. Did you get
some sun?” Tony asked, leaning against Ziva’s desk.
“Little bit. Spent a lot of time
walking around Charleston and Savannah.” Turns out that pink skin wasn’t
entirely sex flush. Mostly sex flush, but yeah, they both got a little
sunburned.
“So…” Tony said.
“So… what?”
“Come on, show us!”
Tim got his phone out and began
to flick through photos.
“Not that. Abby posted photos of
the trip. The new tattoo.”
“Who says I got one?” Abby had
posted the who’s a great tattoo artist question, and she posted shots of her
new ink. Tim preferred to keep his under wraps. So she didn’t post pics of it.
“Come on McInked, we didn’t just
meet you. Show us number four!”
“It’s number three, Tony. I
didn’t actually get the heart with Mom in the middle.”
“I knew that. She didn’t.”
Ziva laughed. “You think I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you know that?” Tony asked, but Tim's pretty curious about that, too.
“Once again, I talk with Abby and
Breena.”
“You guys talk about my tattoos?”
“We talk about everything. But
Breena thought the idea that you would get one to impress Abby was really
romantic, and that’s how we got talking about your tattoos.”
“How did she get the idea that I
got a tattoo to impress Abby?”
“You didn’t?” Ziva is looking at
Tim curiously and then glanced at Tony.
“No. Not entirely. It was mostly
for me. I’d been thinking about it for months before I got it.” Now Tim’s
looking at Tony.
“I tell you she likes guys with
tats. Two minutes later you’ve got one. It was a pretty obvious assumption.”
“Rule number eight.” Gibbs said
as he joined them. “Good to see you back, McGee.”
“Thanks.”
“Thought eight was never take
anything for granted,” Tim said.
“That, too.” Gibbs just stares at
him, expectantly.
“How do you even know? You aren’t
on Facebook.”
Gibbs smiled. Tim rolled up his
sleeve and unsnapped his wrist cuff, showing off the Dragon-red lip print.
“You got a wrist tattoo?” Tony
looks puzzled by that.
“It’s a good place for it.” He
resnapped the cuff. “The first place she suggested I put it hurt too much to
think about, let alone do.” Tony and Gibbs got what he meant and cringed
slightly at that idea. “It didn’t hurt too bad. I don’t use my wrist for much,
so healing up isn’t an issue. Which, you know, matters when you’re talking
about a healing flesh wound during your honeymoon. I know it’s there but it
usually isn’t visible, so I’m still in line with the dress code. And her lips
fit nicely there. All around win. Why, you think it’s too girly?”
Tony nodded. “Wrist tattoos are
kind of girly.”
Tim quickly glances around, but
right this second it’s just the four of them. “Then I’ll be kind of girly. I’m
a cop with a pregnant wife. My masculinity is proven at this point. Catch me up
on this case you’ve had Ziva staring at a computer screen for days on.”
He’d been at his desk for three
minutes. Literally, he’d just sat down, turned on his computer, and opened the
records Ziva had been wading through, when Abby came bouncing up.
“Look!”
So he looked.
Nothing looked new. Yeah, her
hair was still long. (And long, red-streaked ponytails were almost painfully
cute.) Yes, she had a new tattoo, but since he’d been with her the whole time
since she got it, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Sure he hadn’t seen her in a
lab coat in a bit over two weeks, but that didn’t seem trip-up-to-the-bullpen-grinning-like-the-Cheshire-Cat
worthy.
“What am I looking at?”
She unclipped her ID badge and
held it out to him like a trophy.
Then he saw it and grinned, too,
feeling a flash of pleasure: new pic of her, taken today, and under it, Abby
McGee.
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