Almost Skinny Love (NCIS/Tiva/McAbby)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

McGee's POV

*the next day*

I walked into work with a heavy heart. Today was the day I had to escort Tony to Ziva's place for "closure".

It's sort of funny, really, since the woman who asked to leave her unborn child's father is the one who had asked for him back. I know she left to protect her child and Tony, but still, I envied their little love story. I shouldn't, seeing as I have Abby to trade banter with, but it wasn't the same. Tony and Ziva know they love each other, even though the other doesn't know. Abby and I, well, it'll always be one sided. Just like in high school, I'm the dorky geek trying to chase the smart cheerleader with ponytails. Except I'm now being payed to be dorky; in high school the only payment involved was the lunch money that was stolen from me via my bullies.

That's okay, Abby sees me as her friend, and that's enough for me to keep from shooting myself with my own gun.

Literally.

I practically tripped into my desk thanks to a certain agents jacket that happened to be strewn across the ground. Grasping at my bumped head, I looked over to my guilty friend's desk with gritted teeth.

Just like it has been on and off for the past few months, there was Tony, a sleeping, twitching mess behind his own desk. Seems that he'd kicked off his makeshift blanket during his sleep, seeing as I now have a throbbing head to show his restlessness.

I knew I couldn't count on Gibbs coming in today; he'd be in MTAC all day, watching surveillance of the cameras set around Ziva's apartment with everyone else. She knew they were there, as they have been for five months. Ziva wasn't allowed to leave her apartment in case someone recognized her and reported her fake whereabouts to be, well, fake. We had escorts bring her food, take out her trash, bring in doctors when needed, the whole escort-duty shebang.

I set my stuff behind my own desk, my eyes never leaving Tony's figure. His eyes were screwed up as if he was concentrating, on something. On what, I'll never know, but I'll be damned if it didn't have to do with Ziva.

"Tony," I whispered, light shaking him. I swear, if he spazzes out and hits me again, I'll skin him. "Tony, buddy, wake up."

Tony jolted awake, his back, thankfully, never leaving the floor. His leg, however, jerked up, hitting me straight in the bullocks.

"GOD DAMN, TONY," I seethed while curling backwards into a ball.

Oblivious to the pain I was definitely expressing, Tony sat up and stared at me as if nothing happened.

"'Morning, Probie. Y'know, it's not polite to wake people before," the bastard checked his watch, "ah, it's already seven. Anyhoo, it's not polite to disturb the great and powerful DiNozzo's slumber."

"Agh, well, y'know Tony, it's not too polite to knee people in the balls at seven in the morning." I hissed from my position on the ground.

Tony stood up with an unusual bounce.

"Sorry McProbes, but today's an important day. You know why?" He quizzed at me.

I slowly got up and started to grab my gear, feeling suddenly ill.

"Yeah, Tony," I murmured, "we're going to see Ziva's house."

"I knew that, McGee. Why aren't you excited?" Tony chirped.

I stopped in the middle of putting on my jacket.

"Why are you so excited, Tony?"

Tony's head bobbed. "I have no clue, just feel like today's gonna be okay."