Secret Agent Man 2/2
He didn't want to wake McGee, but they had to figure out what was going on before it all blew up in their faces. Besides, it was time for a neuro check. Walking back into the living room with a cup of coffee, he found that McGee was staring at the ceiling, so Gibbs sat on the coffee table. "You and Delilah have a lot of fights about money?"
Tim turned and stared at him as if baffled by the question at first. "Not fights, exactly. She, uh, she's close to out of control with her spending, though."
"How out of control?" Gibbs realized that he was going to get a serious answer when McGee tried to sit up. Gibbs jumped up and helped him shift around, then sat next to him, resting a hand on his back.
"She makes good money. Delilah's high enough up at the DoD that she's making a whole lot more than I'll ever make as an agent. I don't know if it's her way of coping with the bombing or if it was a habit she got into when she was in Dubai and living in company housing, but she has nothing in savings, her credit cards are all maxed out, including the ones she got just a couple of months ago, and most months she's literally down to pennies in her bank account the day before her next paycheck hits.
"Delilah hates the little apartment, but I'm not comfortable with the two of us getting a bigger place until she's got a better handle on things. I thought that maybe if we had a goal, that she'd want to get it under control, so I suggested that we look at buying a bigger place instead of renting, but she had to contribute to the down payment and get her credit under control."
"Sounds fair."
"I thought so. I'm paying for all the rent and utilities right now so that she could get caught up. Tried to help her set up a monthly budget, but that just got me the cold shoulder. She sulks and complains about not spending fifty dollars on food at the office every day, but she's still buying and sneaking in thousands of dollars in clothes every month." Tim started to shake his head, then obviously thought better of it. "She was moody and grumpy about it, but not..."
"Violent?" Gibbs finally put it out there, waiting to see the reaction. Tim just seemed to curl in on himself and Gibbs rubbed his back. "Tell me what happened tonight."
"Yeah, okay. We had the long weekend as soon as the case reports were filed, so I stayed aboard the Yard and got them done....
They'd worked late, but the case was done and the paperwork filed. Tim arrived home tired but ready for the three days off they'd earned by solving the case in time. Locking the door and not bothering with any additional lights, he walked to his desk to check the mail and put his SIG Sauer in the lock box.
"Delilah, you still up?"
No answer, but it was pretty late and she'd been under a lot of pressure at work so he couldn't blame her for not waiting up for him. There was nothing in the stack of mail that couldn't keep until tomorrow, so Tim pressed his fingers against the bio-metric lock, waiting for the familiar click as his fingerprints registered. Just as it clicked he heard the familiar sound of wheels rolling rapidly toward him.
"Hey, you're still..." Pain exploded in his leg as the footrest of her chair slammed hard into his leg, knocking him off-balance. He got a quick glimpse of her furious face as he fell, hitting his head on the corner of his desk.
Between the pain, the stars he was seeing and the blood running down into his eyes, it took a minute for his vision to clear, but once it did, Tim was staring down the barrel of his SIG Sauer. "Delilah? Delilah, what's wrong? Please, Sweetheart, don't do this."
"It... it felt like forever, but then she dropped the gun. Before I could get up, she started running into me again with her chair, kept slamming the footrests into me over and over and screaming at me to get out."
"Shit." He hadn't realized how close he'd come to losing one of his boys tonight. Gibbs's hand stilled, remembering the multiple bruises the doctor had mentioned, along with the cracked ribs. "How did you finally get away?"
"Eventually she backed up, said we were done and to get out. I managed to get up, tried to retrieve my gun, but she went nuts again, so I..."
"Got the hell out of there?"
"Yeah. Not much of an agent, right? Got beat up by a woman in a wheelchair and my service weapon taken away."
"Hey." If there was ever a time for a head slap, now was the time. Unfortunately, his boy had a concussion and more bruises than he'd ever know, so a different approach was needed. "You're talking to the agent that got laid out by a pissed-off wife with a golf club. A suspect would have been different, but that was the woman you loved. I'm not surprised you didn't fight back.
"Besides, it sounds like she blindsided you. DiNozzo and Keates are over there, they've got your SIG, they're getting your clothes and making sure she's calmed down. You're well within your rights to file charges against her, you know."
"I, I can't, Boss. She's..."
Somehow, Gibbs wasn't surprised as he wrapped a supportive arm around Tim's shoulders. "I know."
---NCIS---
"You ready to try and get some more sleep?"
McGee gave a one shouldered shrug. "Don't think I can. Gotta figure out what to do."
"Kick her ass out to the curb and get yourself a restraining order."
"Boss..."
Some fatherly advice was well needed so Gibbs kept his temper in check. "If you're right and this is some sort of delayed reaction to everything that's happened, getting a reality check might be the best thing for her."
"Maybe."
Gibbs wished he'd called Ducky. He was much better at this kind of crap, but Gibbs tried again. "You can't help her until she's ready to help herself, Tim. In the meantime, protecting yourself needs to be your top priority."
"I guess."
"Soon as her office is open, we'll call Rachel, see if she's got some advice for you."
"Yeah, okay." Tim seemed to relax for a bit, then the front door slammed open, startling him. Gibbs, too, if he was willing to admit it. Gibbs jumped to his feet to see Tony storming in. "DiNozzo, what the hell?"
"You lied to her, to all of us. You, of all people, have been lying for years."
"What?" McGee looked baffled and Gibbs had to agree with that sentiment. The kid couldn't lie to save his life, even after all these years on the job.
"Well, the truth's out, McMoneybags."
"Tony, I don't have a clue what you're talking about."
Gibbs watched him closely. McGee was honest when he said that, but then a few seconds later, his eyes widened. DiNozzo saw it, too. "Yeah, that. The lottery you won and never mentioned it to any of us."
That was the last thing Gibbs was expecting and he stared at McGee, wondering how he'd managed to pull this off - and for years, apparently. "Tim?"
"I gave it away."
"What?" Tony dropped down on the sofa, staring. "You just gave away twenty-eight million dollars? Just gave it away, like that?"
"Twenty-eight? Million?" Gibbs couldn't even wrap his mind around that large of a number. "Is he right, McGee? That's something pretty damned big to keep hidden."
"I don't play the lottery."
"Except for that one time that you did - and won."
Even though he was still pissed at Delilah, he could understand Tony's anger. Honesty and trust between teammates was pretty damned important and this was something big. "Maybe you'd better start at the beginning, McGee."
"Yeah, yeah, okay." His hand was shaking when he rubbed his forehead and Gibbs felt bad, but dragging this out wasn't going to help in the least. "I was coming back from interviewing a witness, it was hot, I was thirsty, so I stopped at a convenience store for a cold bottle of water. The guy in front of me in line was yelling at the clerk because she'd printed up his lottery tickets wrong. She was pregnant, looked about ready to pop, and he had her in tears. She kept telling him that she had to void out the tickets she'd already printed before she could give him new tickets, or she'd lose her job. It was ten bucks, so I gave it to her so she could finish that transaction and print the new tickets for the jerk."
It was such a McGee thing to do that Gibbs had to smile. He even saw a trace of a smile on Tony's face before Tim started talking again.
"I stuffed the ticket in my wallet and forgot all about them for a couple of months, until I saw the article in the paper about a winning ticket that hadn't been claimed, recognized the picture of the store."
"So you finally dug them out and checked your numbers."
"Yeah. At first I was excited, then I started thinking about all the trouble it would cause."
"The original purchaser would probably sue if he figured it out. Sounds like the kind of guy that would try to cause trouble."
"Exactly, plus the fact that I was on duty when I bought it and I could just imagine what kind of problems that would cause. The money from my book caused me enough troubles, believe me, and this was going to be ten times worse. I almost burned the ticket, then I started thinking about how it could help some people that really needed the help."
"That's when you decided to give it away?"
McGee gave a nod. "I had a lawyer and an accountant set it up so that the ticket was claimed by a non-profit we set up and from there, every year it gets divided up between whatever charities we've chosen."
"Wow, Tim, that's..." looking a little embarrassed by his outburst, Tony gave his partner a sideways hug. "That's really cool. So, is it different charities every year, or what?"
"Pretty much. Most of them have something to do with helping vets and their families. Semper Fi is a regular. Of all the charities that help wounded vets, they've got the lowest administrative costs. We also cover scholarships for some surviving spouses, provide housing vouchers to get homeless vets off the street, things like that. There's some women's shelters, too, and one charity that helps kids that age out of foster care. We don't cover a hundred percent of what a charity needs, but enough to make a real difference." He stopped and took a deep breath. "There's a few people that we help directly. The clerk at the convenience store was on the run from an abusive boyfriend, so we got her relocated someplace safe that first year and also a scholarship for Sharon Bellows' daughter."
That got a sharp gasp from DiNozzo. Gibbs remembered too, the young teen who was repeatedly raped by her mother's prison guard. "You did good, Probie."
"Thanks, Tony."
"So how many times has a case influenced what charities you support or start?"
Gibbs was also interested; Tony had a very good question.
"Sometimes justice isn't quite enough." McGee smiled for a moment, then turned serious. "So, how did Delilah find out?"
Tony handed him a piece of crumpled paper. "She opened your mail, found this from your accountant, then started hacking. She's convinced that you're sitting on all that money and making her beg for scraps. Zoe saw that pile of designer clothes and wasn't convinced. Compulsive shopper?"
"Yeah, I think it's her way of coping with everything she's gone through, but it's gotten really out of control. She kept talking about how hard it was to find clothes that good for in a wheelchair and that made sense at first. I, umm, I found a company that had an entire line of clothing for people in chairs and I bought pretty much their entire women's line for her birthday last month, but she wouldn't even try any of them on."
Tony's phone rang and he listened for a moment before thanking the person at the other end and ending the call. "That was Zoe. Delilah is calming down, or actually sobering up. She's realizing what she did and is pretty upset."
"I should-" McGee tried to get up, but Gibbs pushed him back down
"Like hell, McGee. She damn near killed you tonight. She gets herself help or you go get that restraining order."
Tim looked like he was going to argue, but Gibbs just glared at him until he gave in. "At least let me call her parents so they can get her help."
"Fine."
Gibbs gave Tony the look and the two of them went into the kitchen to give McGee some privacy while he arranged help for Delilah with her parents. "How bad is it over there? Keates said that she destroyed almost everything McGee had."
"Yeah. She was breaking his album collection in half one by one when we got there. I guess his entire wardrobe is now a bunch of rags, too."
That's what he'd been afraid of. "What a mess."
"No kidding. Zoe is taking a personal day tomorrow or," Tony glanced down at his watch, "actually today, so Delilah won't be alone."
"Appreciate that, sure McGee does too. You okay with him now?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. She made it sound like he was sitting on these piles of money, laughing at the rest of us and that reminded me of way too many relatives I have. Don't worry, I'll find a way to make it up to him."
"That's easy, just keep his secret."
---NCIS---
"Is McGee coming in today?"
Bishop's innocent question almost caught Tony off-guard. It had been impossible to keep everything hidden, but they'd managed to keep it down to just her, Abby and the Director and only the Director heard the entire story. Bishop obviously knew there was more to what had happened than what she'd been told and he had to give her props for not prying much.
"Umm, yeah, after his doctor's appointment."
"He's had a doctor's appointment almost every day for the last two weeks."
She was right; however, all but one of the appointments had been with Rachel, or as Tony still called her - Dr. Kate's Sister. Sessions on his own, sessions with he and Delilah, and then, like today, sessions with Delilah and her parents. As he understood it, her mother, a retired accountant, had been reviewing Delilah's spending habits and how they'd changed since the bombing and today's appointment was some sort of intervention in hopes of halting her downward spiral.
Gibbs arrived back from upstairs, ending the conversation and they returned to their cold cases until the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival of someone in the bullpen. All three members of the team looked up to see McGee hobbling toward them. The visible bruises were now a sickly mix of green and yellow and he no longer needed crutches, even though the orthopedic boot would be on his leg for another month. It had been a slow process and today he looked especially tired, his face pinched and pale.
Tony jumped to his feet, then glanced at Bishop. She seemed to understand, her voice overly perky. "If I re-read this file one more time my eyeballs are going to start bleeding, so I need coffee. Anybody want me to bring them back some?"
His eyes didn't move from McGee's face. "Yeah, Bishop that would be great." Finally he looked at her, a deeper meaning in the rest of his words. "Thanks, appreciate it."
She nodded and picked up her bag. "I might grab some sandwiches for all of us, too. Yesterday they ran out of the ones I like."
Once she was gone, Tony went over to sit on the corner of McGee's desk and Gibbs silently joined them. "How'd it go, buddy?"
"Rough, but she's finally agreed that she needs help."
"That's good, right?"
"Yeah." Despite his words, Tim didn't look very happy. "She's, umm, going to move back home with her parents for a while. Rachel's got her set up with a therapist back there."
Tony didn't know how to respond to that. Before all this had happened, he'd really liked Delilah, liked seeing his best friend happy, and he understood how much Tim loved her and wanted everything back to normal. Gibbs, he knew, considered the relationship over the moment she attacked Tim, and Tony understood that, too. The man was not known for giving second chances to someone that hurt family and Tim was family. "She's getting the help she needs, that's the most important thing, right?"
Tim gave a nod before turning to look at Gibbs. "Her folks are helping her move out of the apartment next weekend and getting the carpet cleaned so I can move back in any time after that."
"No rush, McGee. You can't drive until you're out of that boot, and you're a better cook than I am so stay as long as you like."
Tony had to make his probie smile. Hey, I never got an offer like that." Gibbs apparently saw what he was doing and went along with it.
"Yeah, well, he's housebroken, DiNozzo."
That got the smile they were both looking for. "Thanks, Boss. Lease expires next month so maybe I'll start looking for another apartment, get a fresh start."
"Fresh start sounds good, McGee, real good."
"Speaking of fresh starts," Tony used Bishop's absence to pull out the newspaper article he'd found that morning about a private charity that had stepped in to help the family from a case a few weeks prior. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"
"Not a clue." But, for the first time in weeks, Tim was smiling when he said it.
Tony smiled, too. "Thanks, man."
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