Work Text:
In Which...Tim explains a grammatical conundrum
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“…what is?”
“What you just said,” Bishop reminded as she adjusted her position on the floor, “about being like a family, that you’re dysfunctional but it works.”
“We’re family,” Tim chided with a smile. “You’re one of us now.”
Ellie huffed at his patronizing tone and responded in kind. “Yes, I know. We. Us. Family. But something that is dysfunctional by nature does not work. So your comment about a dysfunctional family that works is an oxymoron.”
“What’s your point?”
Ellie’s brows knit in confusion. “Huh? I just made my point.”
“Okay, so it’s an oxymoron, so what?”
“So…it doesn’t make any sense.”
Tim smirked and shrugged casually, “it doesn’t have to make sense, Bishop. It just is.”
Rolling her eyes and preparing to put her earbuds back in, Ellie scoffed quietly. “Never mind, McGee. Forget I asked.”
“I’m not trying to blow you off, I swear. That’s just how it is. I’m not sure how else to explain it.”
“So this team is an oxymoron that functions in a dysfunctional manner?”
Another shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” McGee had intended to leave it at that. Bishop seemed to have accepted the non-answer as the last word anyway. And really, what more was there to be said?
Certainly Tim had accepted the concept of team as family years ago, though it was much later than that he’d been convinced of his place within the family. But talking about it felt so damn awkward, delved into feelings that only rarely received the barest of consideration and were never expressed. Not in words anyway. Still, something made him try with the young probie.
“It’s just…it really shouldn’t work, you know? All our personalities are so different, if we’d met up anywhere else, we wouldn’t gel like we have here. But here we have each other’s sixes. We have our quirks, we aggravate and exasperate each other but knowing everyone goes home safe at night just…it matters. And I can’t imagine what my life would look like if I didn’t look forward to seeing them again the next day.”
Any reply Bishop was poised to make was cut off by Gibbs sweeping into the bullpen. “Well, I was looking forward to either of you getting a fix on Petty Officer Randall’s location. What’ve you got?”
“Uhh, no hits on the BOLO we put out and no activity so far on the cell phone or credit cards registered to him. But right now I’m compiling data of all his previous activity and inputting that into this program that will factor in specified-”
“McGee!”
“We got nothing, Boss.” Tim’s eyes are still wide from Gibbs sharp expression of exasperation, shoulders tight in anticipation of the man’s response.
“See how you did that in two words, Tim?”
Sarcasm. Probably the best possible outcome. Tim sneaks a peek at Ellie’s face before turning his attention back to his computer, gratitude adding a dose of speed to his fingers flying over the keyboard.