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It was just one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ things McGee decided. Like right when Gibbs got back from Mexico and had the Mustache of Horror. He’d been creepily nice for a while, and at first it was cool. Call him old fashioned but Tim enjoys a workplace where his boss doesn’t hit him quite so much. But after a few days it got really fucking creepy. Exactly like how you like diet coke for the first couple seconds, and then you’re hit with that horrifyingly persistent taste in your mouth. Luckily for them by that time Tony had already solved everything and Gibbs was back to being Original Gibbs, not Diet Gibbs with the nasty aftertaste.
What’s happening now is exactly like that. Only not. Because instead of Gibbs it’s Tony.
It seems like it was just a couple cases ago that Tony started to be serious Tony, but that turned out to be about a girl or something, Ziva had found out the whole story, but wouldn’t tell him, which McGee totally respected. Kind of. (He wasn’t some crazy, like, Yenta or anything. It was all Gibbs’s fault really, he just liked to know things now. God, it never even would have occurred to him to even wonder about it when he’d still been green and squeaky at Norfolk.) But whatever, it had actually been months since that. Months. And now Tony was acting all Diet-Tony again. And it wasmaddening.
For one, he and Gibbs seemed to have some type of Cold War going on. Or maybe Tony was giving Gibbs the silent treatment? But in a totally professional manner. Something. Like a shield. And a sword, judging by the way Gibbs had actually flinched a little the first time Tony had called him ‘Agent Gibbs’ instead of Boss. A sword/shield. Or something. Or, no, like a layer of ice. That’s what it was, a layer of ice about three feet thick around Tony, dry ice, that smoked silently, menacingly, and would burn you if you so much as stepped too close.
Anyway, yes, Tony was giving Gibbs the silent treatment. Or, at least, the ‘I’m a real professional, can’t you see?’ treatment. Which was oddly like the same thing as the silent treatment.
Two days of Tony being unfailingly professional all the time had been kinda cool. That first sip of Diet Tony. Tim hadn’t had to check his keyboard for superglue and/or glitter. And Tony had gotten him coffee with no soap in it! And it was great, they even managed to have a few civil conversations about NCIS procedure as compared to the different police departments that Tony had worked in. And yes, the conversations had been a little chilly, but McGee had been interested in the practical applications of this stuff for a while, so he could be forgiven for not noticing. But then. But then!!! It had turned to Mustache levels of HORROR!! Tony had requested a warrant. To go into a suspect’s house! One they knew was empty!!
This was the same guy who had thrown a rock through a guy’s window once. He had his own lockpicking set! Tim had seen it!! But instead they spent two and a half hours standing outside the house, waiting for the warrant to arrive so they could serve it to no one and actually go in. Tim wasn’t sure exactly why they had to wait outside for all the time. Really, they could have probably gone back to the office, (where it was still February in DC, but there was also heat) but Tony had called Gibbs – to report the warrant being filled as per protocol – and Tim hadn’t really heard much of the conversation, just Tony’s oddly robotic voice saying “Agent Gibbs –“ and then, later, “NCIS protocol dictates –“ and Tim had kind of wanted to throw up, but had held it down with a slug of coffee.
Diet Tony had an aftertaste like fucking tequila. The aftertaste that doesn’t hit you until the morning when you’re puking your entire digestive tract into the toilet and you are praying for death.
It got so bad on day four that Ziva escaped to autopsy, and Tim practically sprinted to Abby’s lab, just to get away from the way Tony’s immaculately clean desk was glaring at the whole room, and even worse, Tony sitting there, hands folded on his desk, practically at attention in his seat. Anything Gibbs asked to have done was met with a carefully modulated response that said “I’ve already finished that task Agent Gibbs sir” but really meant “Go fuck yourself”. Tim was getting good at subtly. Maybe. He thought that’s what Tony meant anyway. Though he had no idea what Gibbs could have done to deserve this constant treatment. Well, anything new anyway. Lord knew, if the six of them were anywhere near sane Gibbs would have deserved this kind of treatment from day fucking one. And goddammitt, that annoying itch to know things was bothering him again, and he just needed to know what the hell was going on.
Abby would know.
Abby’s lab, because this was bizarro week, was deathly silent. She was standing there, frowning heavily at the monitors, which were showing the Tony-Gibbs Cold War in high definition. Tim saw Gibbs’s mouth move, and there was a moment of stillness before Tony’s response, and he could practically read Tony’s lips as he said the same thing he’d been saying more and more for the last four days. Like a fucking computer, “I don’t think that has anything to do with the job at hand Agent Gibbs.”
The first couple of times that Tony had said it Gibbs had gotten all Gibbs-ian about it, with the glare and the stepping in and looming close and the terse “What?”. Each time though, Tony had held his ground, back straight like iron, and Tim had had a strange moment on day three where he’d realized that Tony was actually taller than Gibbs. Why the hell hadn’t he noticed that before? Did Tony really slouch that much? Or was it just because Gibbs’s presence took up so much space that it was impossible to think of him as shorter then someone? He was guessing it was some kind of combination of the two.
Then again, Gibbs was kind of magic, so maybe he could grow and shrink on command.
But anyway, now it was day four, and they were all getting depressingly used to this new little mantra of Tony’s, and Gibbs just scowled a little before going back to his paperwork. Tony, who had been done with his for about three days now, continued to sit creepily still.
Abby stomped her foot and scowled at the screen, and Tim finally walked all the way into the room, “Creepy right?”
“It’s frustrating. I want to bash him over his stupid little head!” This was exclaimed with all the usual Abby motions, hands flying all over the place, before she settled in front of the computer and started clicking away from the cameras, practically stabbing at the keys with frustration.
“Yeah. I figured I could escape down here. Where it’s not so weird.” He says this tentatively, kind of hoping to get an answer on why there’s no music playing, but Abby just grunts a little. And he gives up with a small sigh, “What’s going on with him anyway?”
She practically snarls, and if she hits the computer keys any harder she’s going to break something, “It’s his stupid rule. Because he’s stupid and also stupid!!!!”
Tim blinks a little, reaching out to still Abby’s hands, holding her wrists gently. Mostly to save the computer. Well, at least a little to save the computer. “Abbs, you’ve got to calm down a little. Deep breaths.”
She half closes her eyes and breathes in deep and slow, letting it out with a long hiss, then again, and again. After a second she opens her eyes and rips her hands away from him, tightly, “Didn’t work.”
Tim pats her hesitantly on the shoulder, he kind of wants to hug her but he also doesn’t want her to hug him so hard that he can’t breathe and he gets bruises, which is what would probably happen. So he contemplates for a second before asking, “Which rule exactly?”
She scoffs, “12. The stupidest one of course.”
Tony had his own list of rules for a while when Gibbs was on ‘sabbatical’, but there had never been a 12. Not that Tim can remember. Gibbs’s rule 12 is the one about not sleeping with teammates, and Tim is at a loss for how this applies at all. “What’s –“ Abby slaps his shoulder and he winces away, “OW!”
“Rule 12!!” She starts slapping him with every word, “Never. Date. A. Coworker.” He gets four slaps at the end of the sentence and he grabs her wrists again, this time out of self preservation.
“I know that Abby!! Ow!” He lets go of her wrists to rub at the sore and sure to be bruising spot on his shoulder, scowling a little, “I just don’t see what it has to do with Tony being weird.”
“Tony?! We’re talking about Gibbs!”
Tim just blinks at her. Sometimes talking to Abby is a lot like Tim images it would have been like to talk to Lewis Carroll. So he repeats it slowly, “Gibbs?”
“Yes!”
“But Tony’s the one acting strange.”
“Because of Gibbs! And him being a stupidhead! Honestly Tim. Pay attention.” She pokes him and her fingernails are like . . . he doesn’t know. Something pointy and sharp.
He rubs at his forehead, thinks, “Tony’s acting strange. Because Gibbs is stupid. Because of Rule 12?” And he honestly can’t help that it comes out as a question.
“Obviously. I thought you “agents”” And she would use finger quotes for that, “were supposed to be good at investigating.”
Tim is so confused. “So – what did Tony do exactly?”
Abby huffs out a breath, brings the bullpen cameras back up, grudgingly, “I don’t know. But obviously he made a move of some kind.”
“On who?”
Abby gives him a look like either he’s gone insane or he is too stupid to possibly exist, “Gibbs.”
“What?!!” Tim shrikes, high pitched and feminine.
“Gibbs Tim. Tony made a move on Gibbs. And Gibbs shot him down with Rule 12, so now Tony is being all professional to prove a point.”
Oh God, his head is going to explode.
He lets silence ring for about ten seconds while he tries to absorb this information, before finally, weakly questioning, “Tony and Gibbs?”
Abby snorts, all her focus on the screen now, obviously he is not that interesting, “You never noticed?”
“I-“ And he’s always hated the expression ‘the veil lifts’ but this is exactly what happens to him so he supposes he can forgive it this one time. He just suddenly sees all the interactions that the two of them have had over the years, the way Tony is always, always right behind Gibbs, the way Tony is the only person who ever stands up to Gibbs, the story Tony told about Gibbs being so awesome that he ordered him back from the brink of death when he had the plague. On and on and on. And the only thing Tim can do is blow out a shaky breath, “Oh.”
Abby laughs at him, as she starts to pace, “Ok Tim. You’re on board now right? Right of course you are. Cause no one can deny that those two bozos are meant for each other. And if they don’t get together soon I’m going to sabotage the elevator or - or bang their heads together until they kiss or something –“ Tim’s stomach does an interesting little squirm on the word ‘kiss’ and he has to sit down and hide his face in his hands for a moment.
Of course, this is Abby, and if she’d gone into military service she would be the only Goth four star general in the world. Which totally explains why, less than 30 minutes later, he’s walking out of Abby’s office with orders to help Tony. He walks back to his desk in a bit of a daze, and it’s only once he’s back that he figures out what exactly he’s going to actually do to help Tony.
Ziva sets it off, “McGee, don’t you agree? Something is most definitely wrong with Tony. Gibbs says he’s fine.”
Tim stares blankly at her for a moment before slowly taking his seat, “I don’t think that has anything to do with the job at hand Agent David.” He ducks his head to his desk, and can feel three pairs of eyes on him, hot like coals. He fights like hell not to blush. Damm his alabaster complexion. There’s stunned silence in the room for a while, during which McGee finishes four of the forms that aren’t even due until Friday, and does not smirk at the way they ping-ping-ping-ping into Gibbs’s inbox.
Ziva breaks the silence first, “Unbelievable.”
Tim clears his throat after a second, “Agent David. Ms. Scutio wanted to see you.” He does not look up. Eventually Ziva grumbles a little and leaves to Abby’s lab, and every couple seconds Tim can feel Tony’s inquisitive gaze on him, or Gibbs’s glare.
The three of them sit in silence except for the occasional ‘ping’ into Gibbs’s email, and then the clock hits five with an almost deafening click and Tony and Tim pack up in silence, grabbing the elevator together, as Gibbs glares at them from his desk. As soon as the elevator doors close Tony leans against the back wall, and turns his eyes to McGee, drawls out, “What are you doing Timmy?”
McGee clears his throat awkwardly, because there’s knowing that your coworker is desperately in love with your boss and was just shot down, and then there’s actually talking about it which is totally different and way more horrifyingly awkward. “Abby explained everything.” Tony raises an eyebrow, but Tim continues on, ignoring him, “And I happen to agree with your side of the – thing.”
Both eyebrows are up now, “Really?”
McGee grimaces a little, shrugs.
Tony looks at him for a long moment then finally smiles, big and bright, and it’s strange that Tim can actually miss a person he’s been next to for over a week, but he misses this Tony, Original Tony, with a force that almost hurts. He can’t help smiling back a little. Tony slugs him lightly on the shoulder (the one Abby didn’t bruise), and sounds incredibly honest when he says, “Thanks Tim.”
Tim smiles a little, leaning back into the corner of the elevator, and does not look at Tony when he says, “Abby keeps calling him a stupidhead. She says only someone incredibly stupid would do this when they are obviously in love.” Tim stresses the obviously, because it really really is obvious. In retrospect maybe, but still, the two of them walk around with hearts in their eyes basically all the time. Like Sims or something. Just a trail of hearts following them around. He gives Tony the courtesy of not looking at him when he says all this because he wouldn’t want anyone looking at him if he was told something like that. Then the elevator dings open, and Tim spies Ziva standing in the front lobby, still looking confused, but there’s a line between her eyebrows that means something terrible is going to happen to an idiot soon, so Tim groans softly, “Crap. Ziva looks pissed. I’ll go head her off so she doesn’t kill your boyfriend. Have a good night.”
Tim gets a half second look at Tony’s face when it’s totally shocked, before it melts into honest amusement, and he looks over at Ziva, “I think my boyfriend could probably take her. But thanks again.”
Tim laughs, just because he really has missed Original Tony, and moves to grab Ziva’s arm, gently leading her out of the office and down to his favorite coffee shop so they can bond over being completely shocked and confused, but also accepting because once you know it’s all rather obvious isn’t it?
--
Ziva is silent as she drinks her coffee before she finally slams it down, “I don’t know how I missed it!”
Tim shrugs, eyeing the table to make sure she didn’t like, crack it with her freaky ninja powers, “Me neither. It kinda makes you feel stupid in retrospect huh?”
Ziva grumbles her agreement, cuddling her coffee close. After a moment, “At Mossad, an oversight like this . . . would not have been well received.”
“No offense Ziva, but at Mossad, smiling is not well received.”
She laughs into her cup.
--
The next day all of them, including Palmer, which is kind of hilarious, are unfailingly professional, all day long. Tony alternates between the mask he wears whenever Gibbs is in sight, and an almost shocked pleasure, and Tim is convinced that he thought they would all be on Gibbs’s side in this argument. They get a case around 8, and it’s kind of fun, driving Gibbs crazy like this. Like payback or something. For everything, really, but mostly Tim’s thinking about Mexico. Because that was just annoying. Even more so now with his new insight into Tony (which he is not calling slashvision, because just because he now knows that the fansites exist {due to some googling last night} does not mean he has to start thinking like them) helps him to realize that Gibbs basically ripped the poor guy’s heart out of his chest, left them all high and dry, then dumped his and Tony’s things back at their old desks like that was something people did. Which, no, it was not.
Ziva and Tim are doing most of the tagteaming today, Ziva has almost become Agent Lee in her requests for warrants (Agent Lee before the understandable treason, not after) and McGee is blessing the fact that he memorized the NCIS rulebook when he first started working at Norfolk. Because it makes it so much more fun to be able to say things like, “I’m sorry, Agent Gibbs, but according to NCIS protocol 132G, you can’t actually hold a suspect’s arm behind his back like that.” Or, “Actually, Agent Gibbs, these things have to be filed with the prosecutor’s office. In triplicate. Before you can put the van into NCIS’s evidence garage. According to protocol 8446P.”
And, sure, at first Tim was totally expecting to be killed by Gibbs’s rage. Or his glare. If anyone in the world was suddenly going to develop a fatal glare it was Gibbs after all. But Tony cut off any outburst of Gibbs’s with a painfully casual, “Those are the rules Agent Gibbs. Sir.” Tim has to hide a smirk every single time Tony calls Gibbs sir, because they both get identical expressions of disgust on their face for just a heartbeat, and it is never not hilarious, “We can’t break rules” Tony will continue, “Can we Agent Gibbs?”
And every single time Tony says this, he and Gibbs stare at each other for a moment so charged that the little hairs at the back of Tim’s neck stand up straight. McGee is pretty much convinced that eventually they’re going to do that and Gibbs is going to give in and he’s going to end up witnessing a make out session that he doesn't really feel comfortable witnessing yet. He supposes the team will have to get used to it eventually though. If for no other reason than Abby has been apparently planning the Gibbs/DiNozzo wedding in Vermont for years. She has a seating chart. It’s all very terrifying.
As soon as they get back to the office (“Agent Gibbs are you aware that NCIS protocol dictates that all drivers obey posted speed limits and other road rules while driving agency vehicles?”) Gibbs disappears down to autopsy, obviously hoping that Ducky will still be on his side. McGee gleefully turns on the plasma to show the images of the hallway outside autopsy and autopsy itself, and presses the button on his phone to get Ducky on speaker. “Stupidhead is on his way, over.”
“Acknowledged” Comes Ducky’s voice through the speaker. Tim grins a little to himself and leaves the speakerphone on.
“You guys have codenames?” Tony asks, sounding amused.
Ziva sighs, “Abby insisted. Said we sounded more like secret agents this way.”
Tony raises an eyebrow at the two of them, “When did all this happen?”
“This morning. At 6. Abby made us all come in early for a strategy session.” Palmer’s voice echoes through the speakerphone.
Tony gets a strange look in his eye, then almost reluctantly asks, “What’s my codename?”
McGee snorts and Ziva laughs into her palm, and Ducky answers, “Loverboy!” cheerfully, which just makes Ziva laugh harder.
Tony closes his eyes in amused resignation, “Of course.”
Then the elevator doors slide open and Tim snaps his fingers for silence, Gibbs has fortified himself with another coffee cup, and steps off the elevator into Ducky’s lab, his voice sounds far away on the speaker phone, “Got anything for me Duck?”
Ducky gives him a look, and if McGee were Gibbs (which he’s obviously not) he would be convinced that Ducky was honestly confused by the question, “I’m sorry Agent Gibbs. I’ve only just started. Not to worry, you will have my complete report in two or three days.”
Silence lays heavy over the speaker phone, and McGee wishes they had enough cameras to be able to see more than the back of Gibbs’s head. Gibbs’s voice has that undercurrent of ‘Danger Will Robinson’ that makes Tim’s spine straighten just hearing it, “Your report?”
“Yes of course. My official report takes two or three days. NCIS protocol 644A dictates that all autopsy findings be given in the report. Protocol 644G further says that no suppositions should be given out to agents before the report is finished. This is why we have rules Je - Agent Gibbs” Ducky recovers from a slip up admirably, “if medical examiners just gave you whatever information they thought could be true at the beginning of an autopsy, there would be total madness!” Tim can practically hear Gibbs grinding his teeth, Ducky continues, “Actually, that reminds me of a time-“ Tim winces, and the room seems to hold its breath, but Ducky cuts himself off easily, “but of course that’s neither here nor there. I don’t think that has anything to do with the job at hand Agent Gibbs.”
Ducky grins a little as he leans over to start the Y-cut, and Tim really appreciates for the first time that Ducky is evil. Gibbs doesn’t seem to know what to do, which would be worrying at any other time, but right now is just hilarious. He grinds out through clenched teeth, “I’ll come back in two days then.”
He turns on his heel and leaves, but not before pinning the camera with an icy glare. Tony stares back. Once Gibbs is gone Ducky relays everything he’s found on the body to them (they’re having fun with Gibbs, they’re not letting killers go free) and they sign off, McGee quickly calling Abby and bringing her lab up on the plasma.
“Rin Tin Timmy!” She cries, smiling and waving up at the camera. Tony laughs outloud at the sight of her, all dolled up in court gear, though there is no court today. McGee can’t help but smile as well.
“Stupidhead just got done with autopsy, he should be over there any second.”
She nods, and clicks the button to turn off her music, allowing the silence to echo. She rubs her hands together, “How’s codename Wedding in Vermont progressing?” Tony makes a sound like someone just hit him, and Tim’s grin widens impossibly, Ziva starts laughing again, and Tim’s half afraid she’s going to choke.
“It’s going well. He seemed really perturbed when Ducky used the line on him.”
Abby grins and gives them thumbs up, bouncing around like a kid on speed, “Awesome. I’m so glad everyone is playing along.”
Tony seems to have recovered a little from learning the codename, “I can’t believe you got them all to do this Abbs.”
She laughs, “Are you kidding? Timmy volunteered, and then the three prong strike was Ducky’s idea. Ziva told me to get out the court gear which was inspired really. Director Vance told me that he’d totally help by getting us in contact with all Gibbs’s ex-wives if we need to.”
“Director Vance knows too?” Tony sounds a little horrified, “You told him?”
Abby laughs, “Nah. I only had to spell it out for McGee and Ziva. The rest of us have known for years. You guys aren’t exactly subtle you know Tony.”
“It’s the hearts in the eyes that gives it away.” Tim says before he can stop himself, Ziva snorts.
“That and the, what’s the phrase, ah yes, eye fucking.” Ziva sounds like she’s delighted to be able to say something like that.
Tony rolls his eyes, “Good to know you’re all taking pleasure in my pain.”
Abby laughs, “Hey, we’re all on your side. We’re allowed to have fun with it!”
Tim hears the elevator ding and snaps his fingers again, waving to the screen, Abby turns immediately to her computer, schooling her face to impassivity.
Gibbs notices that there’s no music when he’s on the threshold, and his face does an interesting thing when he sees Abby’s court gear. “Court today Abbs?” he sounds almost desperate, or as desperate as Gibbs can get.
She turns, overdoing the fake surprise a bit, “Agent Gibbs! You frightened me!” She clutches her hand to her chest like a Victorian maiden, and Gibbs’s shoulders literally slump a bit. “No. I don’t have court today, why do you ask?”
Gibbs is growling now, “Your outfit Abbs.”
She looks down at her outfit in overblown confusion, “My outfit what’s wrong with it? You know”
“If you say ‘NCIS protocol dictates’ you are fired.”
The three of them in the bullpen suck in a breath, shocked, and something dark and angry slams down over Abby’s face, “I’m sorry?”
Gibbs, for all that he really is a stupidhead, realizes his mistake, “Abbs-”
“No really Agent Gibbs. I don’t think I heard you. What did you say to me?” She sounds like she’s almost on the verge of tears or something, and if he could get his feet unstuck Tim would turn this off. But he’s frozen in horror.
“Abby-”
“I think you should probably go now.”
Silence for another long second, before Gibbs sighs, and says, “Yeah, I think I should.”
Gibbs turns to the door, and Abby stops him before he leaves, “Rule number one, all rules can be broken.”
Gibbs stops, and looks at her back for a second, “There already is a rule number one.”
Abby snorts softly, “There are two. There might as well be three.”
Gibbs hesitates a second, before nodding a little, “I’m sorry Abby.”
“I know you are Gibbs. Go away now.”
He does.
Tim finally loosens his feet and gets up to turn off the feed and hang up the phone.
“I’m gonna –“
“I’m gonna –“
He and Tony speak at the same time, before they look at each other for a second, and move off without another word.
Later that night, Tim’s phone rings, waking him out of a sound sleep, he reaches out to grab it, still muzzy.
“’lo?”
“Tim.” It’s Tony’s voice, and Tim groans a little, scrubbing a hand over his eyes, “Tell Abby her plan was a success.” He sounds insanely happy, and Tim smiles a little, happy for him.
“Good. She can get started on part two.”
"There’s a part two?”
“It is codenamed Wedding in Vermont.”
Silence for a long second before Tony asks, still happy, “I suppose there’s no use fighting it is there?”
“Nope. She’s got seating charts. And sample invitations.”
Tony laughs, “Yeah, okay. Just make sure you tell her okay?”
“Yeah sure.” They hang up, and Tim rolls over, and tells Abby