Chapter 154: The Good Day
It was a really good day.
Tim had been comfortably asleep, warm, snuggled up with Abby, feeling decently rested because they'd gotten to bed fairly early the night before. And as he was laying there, mostly asleep and very happy to be that way, he slowly started to wake up to the feeling of Abby rubbing against him.
Rubbing against him in a very determined sort of way. In a your-morning-erection-is-very-convienently-located-and-I-intend-to-take-advantage-of-it sort of way.
Best he could remember the last time that had happened, last time she'd been awake before him to even think about doing this was their honeymoon.
And Tim wholeheartedly agreed that doing this was a very good idea.
"Good morning, Mrs. McGee." He figures that'll get old eventually, but so far calling her that is still a kick.
"Good morning." She shifted a little, hitching her leg over his, giving him a little help on the angle with her hand, and he moaned as he slipped into hot and wet and glorious.
"God, baby, that's a great way to wake up."
"Thought you'd like it."
"You're welcome to wake me up like this whenever you want." He punctuated that with a slow, gentle thrust, as his hand found her breast. "You liking it, too?"
She arched back. "Oh yeah, we're good."
They caught a case, but it wasn't a murder.
Paperwork days are boring. Murder cases aren't boring, but they are depressing. (Especially right now.)
Today's case, a kidnapping, is usually the worst, but today's case is also special.
Staff Sargeant Elana Bonsom was being sent to Afghanistan next week. Her daughter, Mandy, was being sent to live with her grandparents, in Montana. Her father, Dan Rogrique, Elana's ex, had taken the girl. And left a note saying he'd taken her.
So, while the hunt was on, there was significantly less urgency than usual because the one thing they aren't afraid of is Mandy getting killed.
Sure, dealing with Elana begging to get her daughter back was unpleasant.
And then it got worse when they finally caught Dan with Mandy, (Idiot had his phone on and on him. Grabbing them took an hour and a half, one minute of which was spent pinging his phone, eighty-nine of which were spent driving to their location.) and got his side of it, namely he's got joint custody with Elana, but she won't let him have their daughter for the year-long deployment and was instead sending her to Montana, where her parents live, where he can't afford to go, rather than let her live with him.
It got even more complicated when the different lawyers showed up, Dan's yelling about how he was being denied access to his child, Elana's claiming he was an unfit parent because he kidnapped her, along with Child and Family Services who didn't want either of those two anywhere near Mandy.
So, yeah, by the end of it, Gibbs was ready to smack everyone involved in the case upside the head. But no one was dead. No one was going to be dead. And it hadn't been boring.
Tim and Tony cut out early. The sound of lawyers squabbling in the conference room a screechy soundtrack for heading for the elevator.
Tim had expected Tony to hit the button for the ground floor, but he stabbed the one that took them to Autopsy instead.
"We've got the afternoon free, let's grab Jimmy and get you two measured for wedding tuxes."
"Don't you need an appointment for that?"
"Made one at lunch when it looked like this was going to get wrapped fast."
They got down there a few seconds later, and found Jimmy and Ducky in the midst of sterilizing every piece of glassware.
"Anthony, Timothy, what brings you down here?" Ducky asks as they head into Autopsy.
"I was hoping to grab the Gremlin and see if I can make these two look great in a tux or die trying."
Jimmy looked up from his pipettes, raised an eyebrow at Tony and said, voice bone dry, "I look fine in a tux, Tony, Tim's the one who can't wear one to save his life."
"Fine isn't good enough. This is my wedding, and you are going to look better than fine. So, can the glassware wait until tomorrow?"
"I believe it can, Anthony. Go about your Herculean labors," Ducky says with a smile.
"I really don't look that bad in a tux," Tim adds.
"Uh huh." Tony flashes him a sideways look as Jimmy puts down his pipettes. "You always look like you're about to jump out of your skin when you're in a suit of any kind."
"I didn't say I liked wearing them, I said I don't look terrible in them."
"You look terrible in them because you hate wearing them." Jimmy says as he grabs his cell out of his pocket and flashes a text to Breena. "Just checking in and letting her know I should be home on time."
"Can't imaging this'll take more than three hours," Tony says. "So why do you hate suits? You used to wear them every day."
"Because it was the dress code, Tony, and I don't hate them, I just don't like them."
"Then why don't you like them?" Jimmy asks. "It's obviously not that they're too hot, you wear long sleeves and a jacket year-round."
"I don't know. I just don't like them."
Jimmy raises an eyebrow at him.
"Fine, I don't like them because my dad used to make me wear them all the time. And looking dumb in them just made it worse. So, where are we going?" Tim asks as they got into Tony's car.
"Dominic Lawson. My tailor."
"You have a tailor?" Jimmy looks utterly shocked by this idea.
"Part of the reason why I always look great in suits is that I have them made for me. Part of the reason he looks like a twit and you look 'fine' is because you buy off the rack."
"How much is this going to cost?" Jimmy asks.
"Less than what you won in the when are Tony and Ziva getting engaged pool."
"You won that?" Tim asks, curious. He's generally not too hooked into the NCIS betting pool, so he hadn't even noticed there was a Tony and Ziva one going.
"Well, yeah." Jimmy rolls his eyes a little, of course he won it. He's won a good two-thirds of the pools that have been up in the last three years, mostly because he's got nothing against asking whoever it is what they're going to do.
"How?" Tim looks amazed.
"Same way I won yours."
"You cheated?" Tim asks.
"He cheated on yours?" Tony's giving Palmer an exasperated look. He'd lost two hundred dollars on that thing.
"He kept asking when I was going to do it, so I flat out told him."
"And that worked with Tony, too." They both just look at him. "What? It was an easy way to finance your wedding presents. I always use the money for a present for whoever the pool is on." Which was probably why no one complains about his unusually high win percentage.
"Speaking of which, you guys going to set up a gift registry?" Tim asks Tony.
"Nah. There's twenty people coming to our wedding, and all of them know us well enough we don't need one. Plus filling out a 'here's what presents to get us' list feels weird."
"Better than getting fourteen blenders," Jimmy says. Even with a registry, Breena's extended family and friends got them duplicate and triplicates of several things, and returning them wasn't either of their idea of fun.
"Still feels weird."
"Speaking of weird," Jimmy says a minute later as they pull up in front of an elegant brownstone in a very upscale neighborhood. "Tony, this looks like a house."
"It is a house. He works out of his top floor," Tony answers as they got out of the car and followed him to the front steps.
"Your tailor works out of his attic?" Tim asks while Tony hit the doorbell.
"He used to have a place out on Jensen, but decided to scale back five years ago."
If Tim had an idea in mind of what a tailor would look like, it certainly wasn't the man who answered the door. He'd expected the exquisitely dressed part. That was a given. The looked to be at most thirty, ebony skin, and Italian accent all took him by surprise. (For whatever reason, in Tim's mental landscape, tailors are old, white, and British.)
"Dom." They did that wide-armed hug thing that Tim thinks of as being a very Italian sort of gesture.
Dom looked at both of them, smiled, and said to Tony, "You are right. Tall, pale, and skinny, and taller, paler, slightly less skinny. But we'll make them look great. Come in friends!" And thus they were ushered into a posh, that's the best word Tim can think of to describe the place, everything about it is expensive and oozes class, living room, offered tea or coffee, while Tony and Dom talked about the wedding plans and how the last suit Dom had made for Tony was working out.
Dom's measuring him, very thoroughly, extremely thoroughly, honestly, he's had sex that involved less touching than what's happening right now, (Really, why is this guy measuring around his upper thigh?) chatting away about single breasted, slim cut, silk wool blend, double vent, cutting the lapels to make his face look less long, (Tim has literally no idea at all what Dom means by that. He's just nodding and smiling at that point, way, way, way out of his depth.) telling Tony that yes, with those two (Tim assumes Dom means him and Jimmy) that vests and ties will look vastly superior to bow ties and cummerbunds, and that given this is a wedding a satin stripe on the leg and the pocket would probably look good, but without it, the suits will be much more wearable for other occasions.
And Tony's just chatting right back with him, completely comfortable, seeming to understand this bizarre onslaught of terms. Jimmy's got his phone out and for a moment Tim thought he might have been googling to figure out what's going on, but he sees Jimmy's thumbs flashing over the screen, so he's probably texting home again.
He holds up his phone and snaps a picture of Tim, trussed up in measuring tape.
"What was that?"
"Breena wants me to document the possibility of you looking good in a suit."
Tim looks at Dominic and says, "I really don't look that bad in one."
Dominic looks at Tony, who shakes his head and mouths the word, awful.
"You buy your suits pre-made?"
"And that is why you look bad in them. You have a very long body."
"I'm six one."
Dom smiled at him, measuring the circumference of his wrist over his watch. (Seriously, what the hell does he need that for? Tim's half expecting the back wall to vanish, revealing wand boxes stacked to the ceiling.) "You are tall, also. But long and tall are not the same thing. Your body is a series of ovals. Oval face, oval torso, oval legs."
"Okay." He agrees about his face, but isn't seeing it for the rest of him.
"Tony is more square. Jimmy, more rectangular. Suits are made to play up the square shape of a man's body. If your body doesn't have that shape naturally, and the suit is not made properly, it will just sort of lay on the shoulders and hips, looking soft and floppy. Build the suit right, and it will hold the proper shape."
Then Dom got going about shoulder and hip width ratios and how to balance them with height as Tony and Jimmy were snickering about the soft and floppy bit. Tim didn't quite catch what Tony said to Jimmy, something less-than-complimentary about his masculinity in regards to soft and floppy, but Jimmy outright laughed at it, and best Tim can remember that's the first time in a month Jimmy's full-on laughed, so that made Tim happy.
All in all, it was a really good day.