Now Can I Shoot?: Tony Dinozzo X Timothy McGee

Sticks and Stones

⚠️ The Upcoming drama (homophobia, ptsd) may trigger some people. ⚠️

I wake up to the sun directly in my face. I forgot to close the blinds last night. I rub my eyes and get up to close it. Looking outside before closing, I stare at the rays coming down and not a single cloud in the sky. Heading back to my couch of suclusion, dropping down onto the couch. My eyes droop closed as my head rest on the pillow.

The smell of someone cooking woke me up. My stomach grumbled as the smell became stronger. Stretching as I lean up, McGee notices. "Good morning," he greeted with a smile. "You should be healing, I can cook," I offer. "I'm actually feeling a lot better thanks to you," McGee smiles. "Just...be careful hun," I got up from the couch. Reaching for my phone, I read the time: 9:52am. "Is my dad still asleep?" I ask. "You don't hear him?" McGee jokes. "All sleep and no wake makes Tony a dough boy," I quoted. Hearing McGee's subtle snort made me chuckle in response.

Hopping up from the couch, my lower back pops as well as my knees. I stretch out my limbs and push my back in and out to get the kinks out. "Guess I'll go wake him," I narrate. Heading towards the door, the snores proceed to get louder. Well, he's still asleep. Opening the door, the room wreaked of bourbon and nuts; practically a bar. I open the window, looking at my dad, he shifts to his side. The snoring subsided. "Dad?" Jolting hun by his shoulder. His snores continue. "Dad?" raising my voice. No response. The joys of living with a heavy sleeper. "Dad?!" I yell. "What? What's going on?" He jolted up. "McGee's making breakfast," my voice went out. "What's he makin?" He shot up. "Smelled like eggs and sausage I think," my mouth watering just mentioning it. "Hmm, I'll be there in a minute. I'm gonna get dressed," he flipped the covers off of him. Walking out of the room, the smell got stronger. "Nice cookin Tex!" I say in a southern accent. McGee jumped at my sudden action. "Sorry, Tim," I wrap him in a hug as he's cooking. "It's fine, just wait until you walk into the kitchen to say something," McGee jokes. "Deal," I laughed.

"That smells delicious McGee!" rubbing his hands together. "Thanks Mr Dinozzo," McGee said. I set out plates and put them onto the counter. Dad sits down at the dining table as he waits for his food. As I turn to help out McGee with dishing everything out; McGee goes to plate the eggs, but underestimated the strength he has. He knocks the plate as the plate crashes to the floor. From the corner of my eye, my dad looks to the kitchen in a jolt. McGee begins to dart his eyes from side to side and his breath quickens. McGee's knees begin to wobble. I quickly grab him before he falls. "McGee?!" I await for a response. His eyes refuse to focus on me, or even in my direction. "McGee?" I ask softly. "Tim?" I ask again. His eyes darted less, "it's okay," I embraced him. In my peripheral, my father comes into view. Didn't even notice he was there. I ignore his presence and tend to Tim's needs. Holding his head and using my thumb to pet his hair. My dad, cleaning up the mess behind me. His body leaned against mine, I felt his breathing start to steady. "McGee?" I ask again. "Are you alright?" Tilting my head to look at his face. Him looking up at me, his eyes connecting with mine. He simply nods in response. My arms still holding him, I give a slight squeeze as I embrace him again. I feel my dad staring from behind, but all I care about right now is McGee's health.

Finally releasing him. He gets up and rubs his neck as he avoids eye contact. I turn to face my dad, he's staring at both Tim and I. "Thanks Dad for cleaning the mess up. It's been a rough week," scratching the back of my head. My Dad continued to stare. "Dad? You ok?" His eyes now connected with mine. "Are you two...a thing?" He asked perplexed. I look at McGee, his face red and he refuses to make eye contact with anyone. "Let's talk about this in another room," I gesture out of the kitchen. My dad, following me into my bedroom, I turn to close the door as he sits on my bed. Inhaling and exhaling before I begin; his expression awaiting an answer. "Look, Dad," I began. His expression read: I'm listening. If only he would act like this when I was a kid. "I know I've been dating girls as long as you can remember, but I love McGee," I try to reason with him. He continuously stares at me with his brow risen. "What about Ziva?" He started, "she's a nice girl," he said. "It didn't work out between us," I said. "What happened? You guys seemed fine," his voice getting slightly higher and louder. Pinching the bridge of my nose, "the point is, you should accept me," avoiding eye contact. "This is a lot to take in, so are you gay?" His tone now a questioning type tone. "No, I...I don't know what I am, but all I can say is I love McGee as you do a woman," my pitch began to match his. "Not sexual like you do, but I love him," reasoning were all the options I had. "Then you're not gay," he began. "Dad?" I started. "I'm not gay, I just love Tim for who he is," my head aching. "Sounds complicated," he simply said. "It is," Was all I could say.