Monday, August 26, 2013

Shards To A Whole: Chapter 190

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

Chapter 190: Date Night

By the time he was up, showered, and more or less himself again, dinner was looming on the horizon, so instead of a second round, getting dressed and going out became the next thing on the list.

When the idea of romantic Monday started to solidify in his mind, he hadn't had anything planned beyond lots of naked skin and sex. But when Abby started talking about the suit/kilt combo something beyond just playing at home went on the menu.

And before Abby left to go out, before he cleaned up or fired up the trimmers, he had made reservations for them to go out to dinner. After all, a good chunk of the fun of getting dressed up is going out wearing whatever it is you just put on.

So, out of the shower, towel around his hips, he's feeling very relaxed, very, very good, and awfully sassy. Kilt and top half of the suit are a must. Rock and roll vibe was definitely going to be part of this, too.

So, first things first, nail polish. He wishes there was a faster way to do this. Or given that it takes him a good fifteen minutes to get it on and properly dry, that he could wear it for more than a day at a time. But, while he's willing to push the edge on the NCIS dress code with his wrist cuff, showing up with nail polish on is a step too far.

Though it occurs to him, when he's head of his own department, he might be able to get some more wiggle room on the whole dress code thing.

Abby's putting her hair up while he waits for his nails to dry, so he asks, "How'd you go about getting out of the dress code?"

She turned to him. "What has you thinking about that?"

"If I'm going to take this much time to get polish on my nails, it'd be nice to keep it there for more than two hours."

"Ahhh… I told Jenny that khaki makes me break out in hives and cried on her until I got a life-long dress code exemption."

He laughs at that. "Somehow I don't see that approach working for me."

"Vance might believe you're allergic to office casual."

"Yes, but he won't care."

"True."



Once the polish was set, came dressing.

He never wears underwear with the kilt. That's just not how you wear them. So, he's got an idea of how a kilt is supposed to feel, and today it's a rather different sensation. Rough, slightly nubby, it's not bad, but it's not normal either. He's a hell of a lot more aware of the fabric than usual.

Shirt, vest, he was looking for a tie. The black one that came with the suit is fine, but he's got a hunter green one that goes with the tartan really well. He was figuring he'd tie it loosely, leave the top button undone and then have Abby do his makeup when he noticed she wasn't wearing a collar yet and another idea hit.

On her dresser she's got a t-shaped stand that all the collars, bracelets, and cuffs live on. He spent a moment sorting through them and found the collar that goes with his cuff. She saw what he was doing and grinned.

"Oh… I like that idea."

"Thanks. Let's see if it looks as good for real as it does in my head." He handed it to her. "Put it on me?"

She kissed the nape of his neck. "Anytime you want, baby."

He's always liked the way it feels when she puts one of her collars on him. Sure, he knows what it's supposed to be about, and for them it's not really, but there's still the soft weight of it, and the smooth sensation of leather drawing tight on his throat. It's just… nice, in a tingly sort of way.

The collar's fairly subtle. Like the cuff, it's just a strap of black leather embossed with an arabesque. Black on black. It's under his shirt collar, so all anyone can see is an inch or so of a band of black at the base of his throat.

"Good?"

"Yeah, it is." She looked him up and down. "You still have Ducky's hat?"

"Uh… yeah, I think so. Why?" Okay, yeah, he still doesn't love himself in hats, but she'd certainly enjoyed him in the fedora. And a decent dose of enthusiastic compliments and petting as a result of the hat was softening his opinion of how he looked in them. (To the point where he kept it on all night after the signing of the Ketubah.)

"Where would it be?"

"Downstairs, closet."

"Okay. Put the jacket on and push the sleeves up a bit."

"All right."

He's still messing with his sleeves when she gets back up with the fedora. They look good scrunched up a bit, but it's hard to make them stay that way.

It's just a basic black hat, lighter gray hat band. Abby sets it on his head and steps back. "Oh yeah."

He checks himself in the mirror, polished black leather boots, McGee tartan, white dress shirt, top three buttons undone, black leather collar visible under it, black vest, buttoned up, black tux jacket, sleeves pushed up enough so his wrist cuff is visible, black nail polish, and a black fedora.

Oh yeah. Is certainly right.

"Eye makeup?" he asks Abby. He's liking this look a whole lot, and doesn't want to venture into overkill land.

She's nodding. "Yeah. Sit down; I'll do it subtle."

He's sitting on the bed and notices the eyeliner in her hand isn't his usual one.

"What's that?"

"Green."

"I thought you said subtle."

"It will be. Look up."

He does, and feels her color his waterline. A second later she's done the other eye. This is usually when she's finished, but she turns and grabs another pencil and a little brush.

"Okay, what are you doing?"

"It'll look good. Hold still." He can feel the pencil smoothing under his eyelashes, and then the brush slipping back and forth.

"What color is it." It's too close to his eye to focus on, and all he can see is a gray blur.

"Medium gray."

"My eyes aren't going to swell shut, are they?"

"Nope. Bought these for you."

He hadn't known that. "Thank you."

"No problem. Okay, almost done, mascara."

"This really doesn't sound subtle."

"It will be; it's brown."

Tim's eyelashes, like his eyebrows, aren't actually black; they're dark brown. So when he wears black eyeliner or mascara it's not subtle at all. It's very clear that something is different. Meanwhile, dark brown does draw more attention to his eyes without making a clear "Look, I've Got On Eye Makeup!" kind of statement.

He holds perfectly still for another minute while she finishes up.

"All pretty?" he asks, something of a wry smile on his face.

She kisses the tip of his nose. "You're lovely." Then gets up from his lap. "Go look."

Okay, she was right, it's subtle, and he's surprised at this, not very girly, either. His eyes just look bigger and greener.

She's standing behind him with her chin on his shoulder. "You like it?"

He's nodding. "Yeah, I do. It's cool."

"Yes, it is. Now, out of here. I'm going to get dressed and want it to be a surprise."



He whistled when she stepped into his office, eyes tracing her body from head to toe. "Oh Abby!"

A surprise was a black cheongsam with green and silver dragons worked over the… it can't be silk, it's stretchy over her belly, but it's got a silk sheen and looks silky. Her hair's up in a bun, and she's got black lacquered chop sticks in it. She's done something with her eye makeup so they look more almond shaped than normal. And to top it all off, (bottom it all under?) is a pair of dainty, little, black silk slippers.

He more or less leapt to his feet, closing on her fast, licking his lips, wrapping his hands around her waist.

"God, you're so beautiful."

She grins widely at that, the gasps when he picked her up and set her on his desk.

"Tim?" she asks as he's kneeling in front of her, pushing the skirt of the dress up.

"Dinner can wait; this can't! Look so good, got to taste you."



So, they were running fifteen minutes late as they walked, (both of them looking awfully relaxed, slightly rumpled, and very sassy) from the Metro stop to the restaurant.

They had paused at the door, waiting for the people inside to come out. Tim was barely paying any attention to them, he's looking at Abby. But she was, so she saw who was coming out before he did.

"Sarah!"

Tim's sister looked away from her friend, saw Abby, saw Abby's tummy and said, "Abby, oh my God! Look at you! Tim posts pics, but…" Her hand is hovering over Abby's tummy, waiting for permission. Abby nods. "She's really in there," Sarah says as she feels Kelly moving.

Abby and Tim are grinning at this. "Yeah, she really is," Abby answers.

Sarah's still looking at Abby's tummy as she says, "I can feel her kicking! That's so cool." Then she seems to notice there are other people with them. "Abby McGee, this is Amber Greenwalt, my editor. Amber, this is my sister-in-law." Abby offers her hand and shakes, wondering why Sarah didn't introduce Tim, but that question is very rapidly answered as Sarah says, still focusing on Kelly, "You going to introduce your friend?"

Tim laughs at that, and the sound of his voice causes Sarah to jerk, looking up and really seeing him. "You've known me your whole life, Sarah."

"Holy shit, Tim!" Granted the lighting isn't too bright, and he is wearing a hat, and she didn't really pay all that much attention to the guy next to Abby, having homed in on the pregnant belly, but still, not recognizing her brother felt really weird. "Are you wearing a kilt?"

"Yes. I do get dressed up for date night, you know."

"Oh my god!" Her eyes are on the verge of falling out of her head they're so wide open right now, and he's smiling, a second from laughing.

"Good oh-my-god or the whole-world-is-about-to-implode oh-my-god?"

"Who the hell are you and what did you do with Tim?"

"It's really me."

"No, it's not. Tim tries to be cool and ends up looking like a dork who's trying too hard. Pseudo Tim or whoever you are actually looks cool, thus, who the hell are you?"

He laughs at that. "So, where's that man of yours?"

She smiles. "At home, this was a working dinner for me."

"Working how?"

"Oh God, sorry. Amber, Tim McGee, my brother. You know him as Thom Gemcity."

He shakes Amber's hand. "Final edits?"

Sarah shook her head. "Super top secret writer stuff. If it works, I'll tell you about it."

"Uh huh… And when will you know if it worked?"

"Round about Christmas-time. This works out, and I'll have a big announcement for all of you."

"Cool."

She steps back and really looks at him again, nodding. "Looks good."

"Thanks."



They're tucking into some really delicious miso soup when Tim asks, "So, what did you add to the honeymoon pack?"

Abby grins. "Not sure I should tell you."

"Really?" Tim's grinning and very intrigued, soup forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fairly sure that's not the sort of thing Ziva told Breena and I about to have it blabbed around."

He sighs, exaggeratedly loud. "Well, if you shouldn't tell… You shouldn't tell… But you know, he is the guy who picked the lock to my apartment, heard us having sex, and still walked in on us so he could see the action. He's got a lot of bad privacy karma to work off, you know…"

Her smile widens. "Yeah. I do. Okay, you cannot say anything about this."

He's grinning. "I never do. What was it?"

She takes another sip of the soup, then says, "Everything you ever wanted to know about oral sex. You said it had to fit into the bag, so it's three mini books of basic, intermediate, and advanced technique. He, like a lot of guys, isn't nearly as good at it as he thinks he is."

Tim laughs, really, really hard at that. He's practically crying by the time he calms down. "Tony Motormouth DiNozzo's not all that hot with oral?"

Abby nods.

Tim starts laughing again.

"It's not that uncommon of a problem, lots of guys think they're a lot better at it than they actually are."

That stops Tim cold. He's staring at her, voice sounding very wary as he asks, "What do you mean by lots of guys?"

That makes her laugh. "Not you."

His look is questioning.

"Really, not you."

"But you'd tell me, right, if it was me?"

That makes her laugh even harder. "Have I ever had any trouble telling you how to get me off?"

"No."

They stop talking for a few seconds as the server clears away the soup and puts several sushi rolls in front of them. Abby takes that break to switch from sitting across from Tim to next to him. Not only is it easier to share food that way, but they can talk a little more quietly.

Once settled, she says, "Look, back the first time we dated, you mainly had enthusiasm and a willingness to take orders going for you. And that'll get you pretty far. I've yet to meet a woman who wasn't thrilled by a guy who'll dive in and eat pussy like he's starving and it's every favorite meal he's ever had, and who doesn't act like it's a fatal insult to his masculinity to be told that he needs to adjust his technique. But, you might remember, I was telling you a lot of left, right, harder, up, use fingers, sorts of things, too."

He nods, chewing. He does remember the first few times he went down on her that yep, she did give him a lot of directions, and he was more than cool with that, because the idea was get-Abby-off, and anything that made that more likely was something he was in favor of.

"Am I still doing that?"

"Nope."

She picks up a piece of their Tokyo roll. "Between then and the second time we got together, you got some technique to go with enthusiasm, and baby, you give head like a woman… Like a lesbian."

He thinks about that for a second, taking a sip of his sake. "That's a compliment, right?"

"Oh yeah." She grins and nods.

That got both of them thinking, which meant they both started their questions at the same time, followed by a few seconds of you-go-first-no-you, finally they settled on Abby going first.

"So, you didn't really date, not a whole lot, how did you get that good?"

"I didn't get a lot of hands… mouth on practice, but I did research the hell out of it."

"Research?"

"I'm not a woman, and when I wrote the T.M. Gee books I needed to convincingly write one, so… I watched and read a ton of porn by and for women. Lots and lots and lots of it. For a few years there, I had a lesbian porn collection that would have made Tony jealous. Or maybe not, cause it was real lesbian porn, not lesbian porn for men, which is, well, not really the same at all."

She's laughing at that. "And you would know."

He's nodding, grinning. "Oh yeah, I would know! Anyway, lots and lots of lesbian porn and the main thing I learned about oral was: your tongue isn't a dick, so don't use it like one; no woman ever got off from tongue thrusting. If you're a guy, and you're doing that, it's because it gets you off. Also, there's a whole lot more to a pussy than just a clit, so play with all of it, and don't narrow focus until you've hit endgame. Once I had the theory down, practice kind of took care of itself."

"Ah… So, what did you want to ask me?"

He's looking a little sheepish at this, but he is curious, and he's never actually asked… He eats another bite of their dinner, putting it off for another few seconds.

So, the thing is, Tim knows Abby likes girls, at least on a theoretical level. They occasionally check out the same girl at a club, and tag team story telling sometimes involves other women. (Like Breena for example, or the girl they're both checking out at the club, especially if they happen to be at the club while telling the story.) But he's never flat out asked if she's had sex with another woman, and she's never flat out said.

So he smiles, hopes learning the answer to this isn't going to bite him in the ass, and asks, "How do you know?"

"How do I know what?" She licks a drop of the sauce off the tip of her chopstick.

"That I give head like a lesbian."

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she looks shocked. "Did you not know that?"

He rolls his eyes a little. "Would I be asking if I knew?"

"Practical experience."

He nods, noticing a complete and utter lack of jealousy, files that under interesting things he'll think about later, and says, "So you've had girlfriends, too?"

"Never with one of them long enough to qualify as a girlfriend. Not that I was ever great with relationships before you, but… basically, I like sex with girls and boys, but do friendships better with girls and relationships better with guys."

"So, you really are bi?"

"I couldn't care less about the label. It's just skin, you know? And it feels good rubbing against mine, so if I like the person inside the skin, we're good. And about one out of five times that skin was shaped like mine. I guess whatever you are is your default idea of normal, because, like, I can see you don't like guys, but I can't figure out why."

"Just don't."

"Yeah I know." She'll looking a little perplexed by this, but settled at the same time. Like she's talking about a puzzle she's come to terms with never solving. "You love Jimmy. He's objectively attractive. You're both good at and very enthusiastic about sex. And, nothing, from either of you."

"Yep." Tim's nodding away at that, because, well, yeah, he agrees with it. He's never felt even the slightest desire to do anything sexual with Jimmy even though he does A: love him, and B: as guys go, Jimmy's in really good shape.

"You'd rather watch Breena and I make out, no touching on your part, just frustrated watching, than have him get you off, even though that would actually result in an orgasm."

"Again, yep."

"And somehow that makes sense to you," she says sipping her tea.

Tim shrugs. "I'm not sure it makes sense. It's probably not logical. It just is how it is. I mean, I read things, back in college, about how we're born bisexual, and get shaped into straight or gay, but if that's true, I can't ever remember a time where I felt that way. I can; however, remember being three and having a crush on one of the girls in my preschool."

Abby smiles at that.

"So, yeah, like girls. Love girls." He stroked her face. "Love you. And yeah, I'm well aware of what we did this afternoon and the fact that I've got on eyeliner, nail polish, no body hair below my eyelashes, and am wearing a skirt as I say this, which means I'm probably the swishiest straight guy you know. I'm certainly the swishiest straight guy I know. But, yeah, no interest in guys. Just, none. And given how my first semester of college went, if I had had any interest in guys, at all, I probably would have been sleeping with them just to piss my dad off."

That makes her chuckle, and he kisses her gently, enjoying this conversation.

"But you don't think it's icky?" Abby asks.

He thought about that. "Not sure what you mean."

"You got a really uncomfortable look on your face when the idea of putting my clothing on came up."

"Okay, yeah." That does it for him. He knows what she means by icky. "And honestly, I don't know. If I've ever been hit on by a guy, it was subtle enough I didn't notice it."

"You got felt up by one when we were in New Orleans."

"Okay, true, and yeah, I remember that feeling weird. Mostly because it took me so damn long to figure out it wasn't you doing it. But I was also kind of drunk, insanely turned on, and in a serious party mood. Hit me with that sober, and I might not be so cool about it." He thought about that some more. "Okay, honestly, it was about on par with hugging Diane."

"Gibbs' Diane?"

Someone I didn't want in my personal space.
"Yeah. It was just weird. Someone I didn't want in my personal space pressed against my body. Not fun. It wasn't gross or anything. Like, I think Tony threw up after he kissed that guy, and there was nothing like that. I just didn't like it."

"Fair enough. I'm just glad you don't think it's icky that I like girls."

"You know, I don't think that's ever going to be a problem for me. Not sure I want you bringing any real live ones home…" He thinks about that and the fantasies they tell each other. "Okay, yeah, I want you to do that… But when my dick isn't doing the thinking, I realize that might end up being a lot messier than I'd like."

Abby nods and smiles. "I love you. That's never, ever going to change. If just us is what makes you happy and comfortable, then just us is fine. But, the offer for more is always open. It's just got to be a two way street. Any time you're willing to play with a guy; I'm all for bringing home a girl. Or both at once: Jimmy and Breena would be willing to play with us."

His eyebrows shot up. He's not entirely sure what that feeling surging through him is. A whole lot of surprise, but there's something else there, too, and he doesn't know what it is. Finally he pulls himself together enough to say, "You know that for a fact?"

She wiggles her hand a little, signaling sort of. "Breena's interested. Like you, I'm not sure if Jimmy's cool with it. We've talked about it, but I don't think she's talked to him about it."

"Oh." That idea, Breena and Abby talking about the four of them having sex together makes his mouth go dry and his dick twitch. "You two talk about us…" He's not sure what the right word is, not even sure what precisely they're talking about, so he tries a few. "Foursoming? Swapping? Swinging?"

"A few times. And as a foursome. Either all of us or none of us."

The flash of that image, all four of them tangled together in bed is simultaneous very sexy and terrifying. "Like just messing around talking, or like talking?"

Abby's eyebrows furrow, and she eats another bite of her sushi. "I don't understand what you're asking."

"Are you guys serious about it?"

"Enough to have figured out that it would have to be all four of us together. If it's all four of us, well… On the good side, we all get to see and touch and play. On avoiding the bad side: no jealousy, no wondering, we'd all know exactly what the others are doing."

Tim swallows hard, takes a drink of his water, swallows again. He's honestly not sure if he's so turned on he's going to fuck her through the wall here and now, or if he's so scared he's going to wet his kilt.

Abby strokes his face. "What's going on? I have no idea what that expression on your face means."

"Probably because I don't, either. You two really talk about this?" There's a hefty dose of amazement in his voice.

"We talk about lots of stuff."

"Yeah, but… Do you talk with Ziva about stuff like that?"

Abby smiles at that. "No. Though she's the one who got the conversation between Breena and I started. She saw how we were playing with each other to wind you guys up and asked if the four of us were sleeping together."

"When was that?"

"Remember the girl scout fantasy?"

He nods. Yes he remembers that, fondly.

"Remember how we were dancing with each other before that?"

He nods at that, too. Yep, he liked that a lot, as well. All three girls all close up and rubbing against each other. He could be dead, and he'd still like that.

"So, we're dancing, you're looking like you want to eat us alive, and she asked."

"Oh."

"Next day Breena and I got talking with each other about it."

"Huh. That was almost a year ago. You're just mentioning it now?"

"Didn't come up before now. Not like there's any rush, is there?"

"What? No… At least, I don't think so… No. Shit..." He spends a long minute just looking at her, kind of confused, partially wondering if this is a game to wind him up. "Really, you two talk about this?"

"Yeah, we do. Last time was when we were getting Tony's presents. You look really confused."

"That's probably a good word for it." He feels like, maybe, if he could get some more rules in place, some more of an idea of exactly what's going on, he can find his footing again. "So, like a one off thing, or regular, like, just playing or… what, becoming a…" he flounders around for a word that would cover this, "quadruple?"

"We were talking about it as a one off thing, with an understanding that if it was fun, we'd probably do it again."

The fact that Abby and Breena have it this far planned out stuns him. Then he realizes what she said, and he's able to identify part of why this scares the hell out of him. "What if it's not fun?"

She smiles, and he can see that's a concern for her, as well. "And that's why we're not in any rush. That's why we talk about it. Do you think it'd be fun?"

"God, I don't know! Yes? Have your best, hottest fantasy come true, sure, that's good. Assuming Jimmy or I didn't freak out. Big fucking assumption there. I mean, you and Breena and… But Jimmy'd be there too… Really, I don't feel any need, at all, to have sex with him watching. Joking around about it or talking is one thing, doing it with him… I don't know. I mean, yeah, I love Breena and… but…" He's gesturing with his hands like they can somehow fill in the blanks in his sentences. "Okay, the night before we got married, he was joking about sleeping with you, and I almost hit him. Seriously, my hand was in a fist, and I was going to punch the shit out of him. And, I'm not feeling that right now, but he's also not actually here."

Abby nods. "I think when they lost Jon, something shifted with you two."

Tim thinks about that, remembering holding Jimmy as he cried, and realized that that's the most intimate he's ever been with another guy, and not only did it not freak him out, but it felt really right. Same thing with sleeping with him and Breena when they got home. Someone he loved was hurting, and touch is comfort, so it didn't matter that the body in question was male. "I think you're right about that, but… still… that's a huge leap."

"I know. And look, nothing we do is going to upset this. We love them. They love us. We love each other. They love each other. Anything ever happens it'll be because of that love, not in spite of it." She touched his face again. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I am. Just, lots to process."

"Well, don't think about it too hard. Still got stuff to do tonight." Her hand slipped up his leg. "Oh. Hard might be the operative word. Seems like at least part of you likes this idea."

"Yeah, well that part of me isn't in charge for a good reason. It likes lots of stuff that might not be great ideas."

That got a laugh out of Abby. She leaned in close, licked his ear lobe, and said, "And it really likes the idea of me and Breena, sitting on the sofa, talking about sex with each other and our favorite guys, doesn't it."

He groaned at the idea of that. "Oh, fuck yes!"

"Wanna hear more about it?"

"Yes, but not right this second. We took the metro here, and I'm wearing a kilt. Everyone in DC doesn't need to see me with a hard on."


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