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Ellie prided herself in her observation skills. She shared them willingly (sometimes too willingly according to her previous coworkers) but had learned to curtail voicing the idiosyncrasies about the people she worked with and shared only case related information.
In the beginning working on Gibbs’ team was overwhelming, between the sheer volume of paperwork and the personalities of the team (let’s face it, Ducky and Abby just by themselves were overwhelming), Ellie felt she was drowning.
A few months later and everything (and everyone) was starting to fall into place. She was now able to breathe, take not only lunch breaks but potty breaks as well. Truthfully, fitting in was never about lack of confidence because she never doubted her ability to be an NCIS agent it was her ability to earn the respect of her team and withstanding the amount of people that had a hand in breaking in the newest probie.
Coffee runs. Genius IQ and she still had problems remembering who took what for their caffeine fix.
Always be prepared. Ellie learned after her first foray into dumpster diving to always have an extra pair of clothing (including bra, underwear and socks).
Never discuss Gibbs unless he was in your line of sight.
Whenever possible never be the person to ride shotgun with the Boss.
Never purchase tickets for anything that was nonrefundable.
A conversation with Tony shouldn’t begin with “Have you ever seen a movie—“ because you’ll revisit the entire film complete with impressions (until your eyes glazed over and Tim groaned).
Know when Ducky begins a sentence with “This reminds me of a time—“ you’re going to be in autopsy for longer than fifteen minutes.
Never wake an agent when they’re sleeping at their desk (but have your camera phone available, except when it’s Gibbs ‘cause that would just be a death sentence).
Commercials lie. Easy Spirit pumps are not comfortable enough to chase down a suspect.
Pizza tastes much better cold than lo mein.
Coherent conversation wasn’t recommended before everyone had had their first cup of coffee, Earl Grey, Caff Pow or Energy Drink.
All of these little rules (not to be confused with Gibbs’ rules) were tucked away, filed in the recesses of her mind to be brought out and used, sometimes on a daily basis, others when the situation presented itself.
But then again, she was a probie with a lot to learn.
Ncisncisncis
Tony and Tim were a well-choreographed dance team (not that she would ever mention that analogy to either one of them). She watched them deftly sidestep around Gibbs’ moods, wants and needs. Tony expertly playing defense diverting Gibbs’ attention to the bulls eye Tony metaphorically painted on the back of his designer suit. Tim, with a single expressive “Tony” or a raised eyebrow that would make Mr. Spock proud, reigned in Tony’s Senior Agent’s protective posture (ie death wish) before Gibbs pulled a gun and shot him.
ncisncisncisncis
Ellie looked up as Abby handed her a sheet of bright green paper.
“Flu.”
As if the single word was explanation enough, Ellie took the paper then blinked at the forensic scientist in confusion. “Excuse me?”
Abby tapped the paper in Ellie’s hand with her skull decorated pencil. “Read this. Flu shots. Gotta get your flu—“ furtively she glanced over her shoulder then bent closer to Ellie. “For Tony. Everyone gets their flu shot so Tony won’t get sick.”
“Just Tony?” There had been comments and she’d read the report regarding Tony and the plague but that was years ago. Except for excessive talking (which in medical terminology was referred to as diarrhea of the mouth), the Senior Agent seemed perfectly healthy.
Abby rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t want you or McGee or the Boss man—“ she paused, “I don’t believe Gibbs has ever been out sick. Fever sick. Coughing sick. And Jimmy with the new baby, we don’t want him to bring home any germs or Ducky—“ a shudder passed through her “Ducky’s not young anymore and the flu—“
“Ducky’s already had the flu shot, Abby,” Gibbs stated as he breezed past Abby to his desk, coffee in hand.
“Thank goodness.”
With interest, Ellie watched the unspoken communication between Gibbs and Abby.
Abby broke the silence with an accusatory glare, “my appointment’s for tomorrow.”
One handed, Gibbs tossed his coffee cup into the trash. “I went with Ducky.”
Gibbs was rewarded with a thumbs up and huge smile. “What about you, McGee?” She turned on McGee, who with his nose buried in an opened file, tried to sneak past her.
“I’ll call later.” He attempted to placate her with a smile and before he sat, he waved the file. “I’m sorta busy right now.”
Abby picked up the receiver and shoved it threateningly in his face. “Call now—“
Ellie picked up her phone. “I got this, Abby. I’ll make an appointment for me and Tim.”
Abby dropped the receiver in to the cradle, the sound much louder than it had a right to be. “Saved by the probie, McGee.”
Ellie smiled while she waited to be connected, the phone tucked between her shoulder and chin at McGee’s silently mouthed ‘thank you.’
Ncisncisncisncis
The flu shots worked wonders. No fevers. No cough. Nothing. And while a needle protected Tony against germs, it didn’t protect against bullets.
NCISNCISNCISNCIS
Hospitals were white, bright, noisy and cold, very cold. Waiting room chairs were uncomfortable. Vending machine coffee tasted stale but at least it was hot and Ellie found herself tightly gripping the cardboard cup trying to transfer the warmth into her hands.
A pair of hands joined hers and she looked up angrily, unwilling to share the heat of the coffee. “Hey.”
“Why don’t you give me the coffee before you spill it,” McGee said, gently tugging the cup from her hands.
It wasn’t until her hands were empty that she realized how badly they were trembling. Embarrassed she shoved them between her crossed legs trapping them.
“It’s okay.”
“Okay? No, it’s not okay. There was so much—“
“It’s Tony.”
Shocked, she glared at him. Tim had been there. He had seen. His smugness was infuriating. “What kind of answer is that?”
“It’s the right answer, Bishop. “ Gibbs stated in pure Gibbs fashion as he swept into the waiting room, coffee in hand. “Ducky spoke to the surgeon. Tony will be fine. Lotsa blood but the bullets missed anything that would cause permanent damage.” He gave her a half smile as if letting her in on a private joke. “You’re going to get a ring side seat to Tony’s recovery.”
Did Tim just groan? That couldn’t be right.
“… the hardest part will be keeping his ass glued to his desk chair. No field work until he’s given the all clear.”
“Don’t worry, Boss, I have the Crazy Glue and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“That’s right,” Abby said, her face breaking huge grin belying the streaks of mascara her tears had created. “Tim knows from experience how well Crazy Glue on a chair works.” Demonstrating she raised one hand, then the other, slapping them together then miming to show their inability to separate.
NcisNcisNcis
Sleeping was out of the question. She’d tried, but every time she closed her eyes she was haunted by a prone Tony. And blood. Lots and lots of blood. In truth (if she wanted to be truthful) in the blackness of her bedroom with Jake sleeping beside her, what happened to Tony was only part of the reason for her insomnia. Ellie was embarrassed how badly she’d been affected by today’s shooting. She was an NCIS agent for God’s sake and going into this job she was well aware of the dangers.
“Okay?” Jake mumbled.
“Not really,” she said, figuring if maybe she talked...
He patted her face, the action of a man not totally awake, catching more her nose than her cheek. “I’m glad.” He yawned. “Leave the reports on the—“ the rest of the sentence swallowed up in a snore.
So much for talking. And sleeping.
NCISNCISNCIS
The life of a hospital knew neither day nor night, though the staff tried to emulate the lateness of the hour with dimmed lighting, even the voices of the aides and the nursing staff took on a hushed tone, causing Ellie to whisper to the clerk behind the desk, who looked harried despite the hour. “I was told Anthony DiNozzo—Special Agent—“ Ellie was silenced by a raised finger while the woman checked the computer.
She turned a suspicious glance at Ellie. “Who are you?”
“Ellie Bishop—Agent DiNozzo’s partner.” Ellie had a fleeting need to flash her badge but thought better.
“Ah, yes, Agent DiNizzo has been moved into room 425. You do know,” she tutted, pointing at the sheet laminated and stuck to the countertop. “It is after visiting hours, and pursuant to hospital policy—“
At that point, Ellie flashed (screw this, she had a very bad yesterday and wasn’t in the mood) her badge and smiled. Smiling even broader (she chose to ignore the clerk’s sneer) when the woman handed her a pass. “Go around the bend, take the elevators on the left side to 4 North. Once you get out of the elevator—“
“I’ll find it,” Ellie said, clipping the pass to her jacket lapel.
NcisNcisNcisNcis
The door to Tony’s room was half opened, the light from the hallway barely doing the job of illuminating enough of the room for Ellie to walk to his bedside without tripping over anything. Pale (blood loss could do that to you). His breathing was deep and measured, relaxed, though based on the number of IVs his sleep was probably more of the drug induced stupor than natural.
Slowly, she walked the length of the bed, sidestepping the IV pole, assessing her partner. Anxious that the man who was unable to sit still was prone and unresponsive (drugs she reminded herself, tapping the IV solution gently), but he was breathing and Bishop could feel the knot in her stomach slowly unravel.
“I’m fine, go home Bish.” Without even opening his eyes Tony addressed and dismissed her observation. Okay, the words were a touch garbled, but the gist was there.
Of course, being the highly trained federal agent she was, Ellie did the only logical thing when surprised by Tony’s awareness, she jerked backwards, banging into the raised railings of the hospital bed precariously tottering the IV pole and to make matters worse, as if destroying his room wasn’t bad enough, it was her very unprofessional , excessively loud squeak of shock that forced Tony to open his eyes. Slowly. He blinked once, then twice at her, before raising (or attempting to raise) an uncoordinated appendage to his lips, shushing her.
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry…” Reaching out a hand she forcibly righted the still rocking IV apparatus.
“Quiet.”
“I know,” she apologized, grimacing at how Tony appeared to be struggling with the conversation. “Hospital. Patients—“
“Tim,” Tony whispered.
Huh? “Tim?” Ahh, he was confused. She’d heard about Tony’s not so nice interactions with drugs. “Tim’s home, Tony,” she said, gently patting his leg. “I’m sure he’s sleeping by now.”
Tony snorted, drunkenly. “Sleeping, yup. Not home.” His voice took on a sing song quality. “Right there.” He cocked his head towards a dark corner of the room, to the left of the head of the bed.
She squinted into the dark recesses of the room. Tim? What the Hell was Tim doing sleeping in Tony’s room. Better yet why was he—
“He was worried.”
Could’ve fooled me, she thought, playing their earlier conversation over in her mind. Worried wasn’t the first thought that popped into her mind. The sarcastic “really?” popped out of her mouth before her brain connected with her vocal cords. Hastily, she backpedaled, trying to soothe over how unfeeling she was making Tim sound. “I mean he was cool, calm, collected…”
“He was worried,” Tony insisted. “Still is. Told Tim I was fine but he wouldn’t leave—“
She opened her mouth, closed it and in the dim light of a hospital room, Ellie observed. And saw probably for the very first time the, tenderness, for want of a better Hallmark word, when Tony gazed at Tim. Maybe the expression was a touch drug induced, pain killers lowering Tony’s emotional defenses, but there was such raw emotion that she couldn’t hold back the smile.
Tony mirrored her smile, his a touch more drunken with an added “I’m never going to remember this in the morning, am I?”
“No, you’re not.” Gently, she smoothed the blanket covering Tony, glancing at Tim. “Tim was worried.” A statement from her lips, no longer a question.
“He always worries about me. “ Tony’s chuckle ended with a grimace.
“Want me to call a nurse?”
Tony grasped in his hand and slowly lifted up what resembled a game show buzzer. “Oblivion is just a push button away.”
Ellie could feel the stress of the past day leave her body and she leaned in, kissing Tony’s forehead (which felt a tad warmer than normal, a fact that she’d mention to Nurse Ratchet before leaving).
Confused (and definitely unfocused), Tony glanced up at her. “What was that for?”
Her gaze slid over to Tim. “Just because.”
Ncisncisncisncie
MCRT was taken off rotation, relegated to cold cases while Tony was confined to desk duty, which according to him was almost as painful as getting shot, buried under cold case files while Gibbs spent his days grousing, muttering and an inordinate amount of time on coffee and Caf Pow runs.
Tony was out today, follow up doctor’s appointments, Gibbs was wherever and it was only her and Tim in their little cozy, corner of the world.
“A penny for your thoughts, Ellie.”
Tim’s question pulled her from her musings. Her thoughts on the subject of Tim and Tony were worth way more than a penny. Since Tony had returned from medical leave, Ellie had been watching, studying the two men surreptitiously, over opened manila folders. Because while she knew in all of her heart that Tony and Tim were extraordinary agents and Tony’s undercover missions were legendary, she found it hard to believe that she’d missed it. It wasn’t the fact that they were a couple that was disturbing her, it was the fact that she hadn’t picked up on their relationship. Not one iota. What did that say about her investigative prowess? That it sucked? Or maybe it was the drugs talking and there was no relationship… that Tony’s confession was the epitome of the ultimate prank.
On so many levels, she was disappointed in herself.
The snapping fingers in front of her face brought her back to the bullpen in a flash and she jumped from the chair, sending it traveling into the back of her cubicle. With a pounding heart, she affixed Tim with a murderous gaze and for a second she wanted to noogie him in retribution like she used to do to her brothers when they scared the shit out of her. . “Geeze, Tim…”
“What?” Eyes wide with the barest hint of apology. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes.”
“Sorry.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just—“
“Hate cold cases.” Furtively, Tim glanced over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, no Gibbs,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Lunch?”
“What, it’s not—“ her eyes widened as she checked her watch.
“I know time flies when you’re having fun.”
Ncisncisncisncis
Two weeks later, Tony was cleared for active duty with a flourish and a smile and on his first day, five minutes into a humid, sticky Monday, the team had gotten a call to investigate the death of a young (aren’t they all) petty officer found in Rock Creek Park. With the clock ticking towards lunch, they’d just made it back to the safety of the bull pen before the first flash of lightening lit up the afternoon sky. The chasing crack of thunder shook the building.
“Wow.” Tony dropped his backpack behind his desk and his jacket over the back of his chair. “We usually never have great timing, we usually look like drowned rats—“ He stopped as Gibbs strode past his desk.
“Gotta agree with you on this one, DiNozzo.”
There had been no foul play in the death of the marine. Even though Ducky would make the final determination, all indications from the note to the gun in the young man’s hand pointed to suicide.
Ncisncisncisncis
The bullpen took on a surreal quiet, voices and computers overpowered by the strength of the storm outside.
Tony got up, stretched and walked over to the huge window, his movement caught her attention but didn’t distract her from the paperwork she was sorting through. What did distract her was Tim joining Tony to stand by his side. Close. Can’t slip a piece of paper between them close.
From her vantage point, their reflections were visible in the glass. She studied them while they studied Mother Nature’s light show. In the hospital, she’d seen pure emotion on Tony’s face and now, while Tony stood enraptured by the storm, Tim’s expression was filled with happiness.
And the pieces fell into place.
All of them.
She’d borne witness to their relationship since she began at NCIS.
The bickering, teasing, the finishing the sentences, the worry, knowing each other’s coffee preferences, sandwich orders, Chinese food—it was more than work. It was their world. Tony and Tim. It had nothing to do with her investigative skills and everything to do with their relationship being in plain sight. Right there in front of her. In front of everyone. They were hiding in plain sight.
They shouldn’t need to hide, don’t ask, don’t tell had been banished from the books but somewhere deep down inside, Ellie believed their secrecy had more to do with one of Gibbs’ infamous rules than anything else. And maybe, just maybe her respect for the man went down a notch or two.
Her lips were sealed, she would say nothing. Their secret was safe. Though hot, the thought of the two of them—
“Watcha doing, Bish?” larger than life Tony stood in front of her desk.
“Thinking.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“About,” Tony rolled his hand, encouraging her to continue.
“Lunch,” she said opening her desk drawer and throwing a stack of menus on her desk. “A place that delivers.”
He winked at her. “Smart girl.”
“I know,” she agreed, handing Tony the menu for the local Greek restaurant. “I’m getting trained by the best.”
The end.