Timothy McGee wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep off what had been one of the most insanely disastrous days of his life. He knew it was a bit hyperbolic to think such, but it seemed as though if something could possibly go wrong, it had. He’d dropped his toothbrush into the toilet this morning, for Pete’s sake. That should have been a sign that he should just go back to bed.
But, of course, he hadn’t. He’d had far too much to do despite the fact that he was on vacation--from his day job, anyway. He wondered, though, if he would have had a much more relaxing day if he’d just gone in to work.
The CyberCrimes Unit had been fairly quiet recently, and that made him miss his days on Gibbs’ team in Major Crimes all the more. He didn’t expect to miss the action, but he did--in more ways than simply gaining ideas for his novels. He used to think he’d be happy working on a computer all day, but…he missed being in the field. Maybe when his vacation was up, he’d check and see if there was a chance he could move back up to Major Crimes.
Vacation just didn’t seem like the right way to describe his week. Vacation implies rest and relaxation, but instead he’d sat in on yet another grueling day of auditions. While he had very little official say in the casting for Deep Six, the director actually seemed interested in his thoughts on the matter. So far, they’d found the perfect Lisa and a…reasonably good Tibbs. But it seemed that nobody really understood any of the other characters.
The McGregors had been…kind of insulting if he really thought about it. Most of them were out of shape, some of them downright sloppy. One of them actually came in wearing a Star Trek uniform. Okay, so he was techno-savvy, and yes, probably fit the definition of a geek, but he did care about his appearance! He had meticulous hygiene, thanks!
The Amy Suttons were all just way too wild. Many had gotten the look right, but none had attitude even close. He wanted a sweet ‘girl next door’ in a dog collar, did none of the actresses actually read up on the part or did they just read her physical description and decide to go with the media stereotype? Ugh.
The worst, though, were the Tommys. If he had to see one more Tommy he was probably going to go crazy. They had the obnoxious down; he’d give them that. And the self-centered act (though he suspected few of them were acting). The way they had all strutted around he figured that every single one of them thought they had the role in their pocket. None of them got the point that although Tommy may have those traits he also had to be charming. The character often walked a fine line, but in the end, his likable side had to win out. The audience had to like him or the movie would more than likely flop…and possibly take out the books’ audience with it.
So auditions had been horrible. He wasn’t sure he could take another day of them, so he was somewhat relieved that Open Call was completed. They’d found a few possibilities for Amy and McGregor and were going to invite a few to come back in for screen tests and further interviewing. Unfortunately, absolutely none of the Tommys were even worth consideration. McGee was really starting to regret his decision to allow a movie adaptation of his series. Part of him wanted to just wash his hands of the whole thing, but every time he seriously considered it he began to feel guilty about abandoning the project…and more than a little nervous about what they would do to the material if he wasn’t there to stop them from messing with it too much.
If auditions had been the end of his day, it would’ve been bad, but of course, it wasn’t over yet.
He’d rushed home, changed, and rushed to pick up his assistant-turned girlfriend, Mollie, for the contest winner’s reception dinner. No sooner had he gotten outside but he’d tripped and scraped his knee, tearing a hole in his pants. So of course, he had to go back up and change. See? He cared about his appearance!
Unfortunately the change made him late to pick up Mollie, who decided that even though he was almost always quite punctual he needed to be thoroughly scolded for his transgression. It might not have been so bad except that it set him even further behind schedule. When she’d caught him checking his watch it had only intensified her anger. She ended up being so upset that she decided not to attend the banquet at all. By that time, he hadn’t been all that upset with her decision. He wasn’t entirely sure if she was still his girlfriend when he left her apartment. He also wasn’t entirely sure that he cared, except that it might mean he’d need to hire a new assistant. The fact that that was what was more worrisome made him suspect that it might be for the best for both of them if they did break up.
All in all, he was only about twenty minutes late getting to dinner. As it turned out, though, the guest of honor hadn’t shown up, either. McGee didn’t even want to think about the subsequent events where they discovered the contest winner, Anthony DiNozzo’s suite had been broken into and the man himself seemed to be missing. The grizzly discovery of the man’s bloodied clothes in the dumpster…McGee really didn’t want to think about that. He felt guilty enough as it was. He’d wanted to assist in the investigation, it was out of NCIS jurisdiction--and not even remotely cyber-crimes related, so he’d just gone on home. He’d check with Gibbs in the morning and see if the man could maybe pull a few strings or call in a few favors or something so he could follow up on the case.
Once home, he’d immediately changed into his PJs, but he couldn’t sleep. He felt awful. Maybe it was all just some bizarre misunderstanding and DiNozzo was fine but had been waylaid somewhere. Gotten lost in the city or something. McGee hoped so. He’d brought the man out to DC, after all, so he felt a bit responsible for him. He didn’t even want to think about the PR disaster this was going to cause. Although it might make for an interesting case for Tibbs and…
McGee groaned and his guilt deepened. What was he thinking? A man he was somewhat responsible for was missing and foul play was suspected. Now was not the time to think about his next novel.
Exhausted, but still too upset to sleep, McGee decided to distract himself by checking his email and possibly seeing if anyone from his gaming community was online.
Still no word from Ziva, he noted as he skimmed through his messages. It had been a couple weeks since he’d heard from the Mossad Officer. They’d kept regularly in touch after she’d gone home to Israel a few months back, but he supposed it was natural that the contact would lessen until eventually they’d probably just stop completely. Still, it had been a couple weeks since he’d heard from her; she hadn’t replied to his last two messages. Yet another thing to worry about! He frowned as he closed down his email.
What he needed now was to…blow stuff up. He pulled out the game disks and was just about to immerse himself in the game world when someone started pounding on his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so who…?
Abby maybe? Except her knock was a lot different than that…
“Open up, Probie!” an unfamiliar voice called from the other side of the door.
What the hell? McGee peered through the eyehole and saw a man starting to lean closer to the door, apparently about to try looking into it from the other side.
He jerked back. “I think you’ve got the wrong apartment,” he called through the door.
“McGee?” the man queried.
McGee hesitated. “Uh…yeah?”
“Don’t sound so sure of yourself there, Probie. Should we try that again?”
“Yes,” McGee replied. He blinked realizing that his answer implied that they should try again rather than affirming that he was, indeed, McGee. “I mean, yes. I’m McGee.”
“Now that we have that established, are you going to leave me hanging out here all night?”
McGee blinked again. “Uh…”
“Want me to serenade you?”
“What!?”
“Just a suggestion. You know. Guy stands outside singing until girl…well in your case…nah we’ll stick with girl lets him in.”
McGee scowled at the dig. His mind raced, trying to come up with a fitting response to the situation. Should he call the police? Yes. Crazy person in his hallway, that seemed like a good idea. “I think you better go,” he called out, giving the guy a chance to leave on his own.
“This is the song that never ever ends. Yes it goes--" the man began to sing in a boisterous but not altogether unpleasant voice.
Not wanting his neighbors to be disturbed and not thinking his actions through, McGee quickly unlocked the door. He realized that he should have set the chain in place first when the door burst open, knocking him over as the man let himself in. “Thanks, Probie!”
Crap! McGee scrambled to his feet, cursing himself for being so careless. Now the stranger was in his apartment and…and...he frowned as he saw the guy motioned for someone to follow him inside. Jesus! He needed to get to his bedroom where he’d secured his Sig and--
He froze as a second man made his way into the apartment carrying several packages. What the…?
“Just put them in there,” the first man directed, pointing toward McGee’s bedroom.
McGee relaxed slightly, but remained apprehensive as the second man disappeared into the bedroom for just a moment before returning to the living room empty-handed. The first man, meanwhile, started to reach inside his jacket and McGee prepared to tackle him, but stopped as he the man withdrew a small roll of cash, pulling a couple bills from it and handing it to the other man, who accepted them with a grin.
The man’s eyes widened and he seemed almost speechless for a moment before recovering and acknowledging what McGee could only surmise must have been a very generous tip. “Thank you, Sir. If you need any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask for me again!” He was dismissed with a nod.
“Um…uh…” McGee stammered, still not sure how he should handle the situation. On one hand, a total stranger had just burst into his apartment. On the other, the man didn’t seem to be wishing him any harm. He just seemed to be…
Examining all of McGee’s stuff. McGee knew he probably looked like an idiot standing there and watching as the guy ran his finger along each of the titles on his bookshelf. He didn’t think to stop the guy until the stranger had picked up one of his knickknacks and casually tossed it in the air. He caught it, but the action reminded McGee that he really did need to do something. He leapt forward and caught the knickknack as it was tossed up in the air again. As he set it back down on the shelf the man cheerily moved on to examine another area.
“Um…uh--"
“Think we covered that already, McGreg…McGee,” the guy cut him off.
McGee’s head tilted as he caught the slip with his name. McGregor. He almost laughed as he realized what was going on. “Okay, very funny. Which agency gave you my address?” He had to admit that the guy looked the part. And it was certainly an interesting way to present an audition. The song in the hallway was totally a Tommy sort of thing to do; he’d have to remember that one. Charming in a really annoying sort of way.
Ignoring the question, the guy turned to pick up another object. McGee’s oversized coffee mug. McGee quickly snatched it from him, this time holding it protectively in his grip as the guy moved on again. Just as he imagined Agent Tommy would have. The guy showed no signs of breaking character.
“So, uh…Tommy.” McGee frowned as he recalled that the actor had decided to go with using McGee’s real name. “Um…what should I call you?”
The guy turned and looked at him and for just a split second McGee thought he saw a touch of confusion, but then a grin spread across the man’s handsome features. McGee could see how this man’s smile could easily be infectious. That was a definite step up from most of the guys who’d read at Open Call. “I’m thinking ‘Boss’ has a nice ring,” the actor answered, not ready to break character. McGee nodded good-naturedly. “Or ‘Sir’ works.” The man’s head cocked slightly back as he pretended to consider. “Buuuut, since you’re being kind enough to put me up for the night, I guess you can just call me Tommy.”
“All right Tomm…wait. What?”
“You don’t mind if I take the bedroom do you, Probie?”
“What--?”
McGee’s eyes widened as Tommy abruptly turned and headed into the bedroom. “Nice PJs, by the way. Silk, right? You know, I always pictured you as a footie-pajamas kind of guy.”
“No I…” McGee started to trail after Tommy but stopped short as the bedroom door shut in his face. “Ha ha…cute,” he muttered. His hand hovered over the doorknob for a few moments as he tried to decide whether or not he was supposed to follow the guy or not. After a few moments of hesitation, though, he realized of course he should follow. Did he really want Tommy rooting through his things? The actor, committed as he was to the role, would most definitely be doing that.
McGee’s eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped as he pushed the door open to reveal that Tommy wasn’t going through his things, but was instead…disrobing. For a few moments McGee was completely flabbergasted as he watched Tommy’s dress shirt being tossed to join the suit jacket across the back of the settee.
“A little privacy here, McGee?” Tommy suggested, though he continued to undress, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops.
“What? Uh…sorry,” McGee stammered, turning around. He honestly could not figure out what he should say or do. Was this part of the audition? McGee flinched as he heard Tommy’s pants drop to the floor. Did he think…good God, did he think there was some sort of “Casting Couch” situation here? “Y-you don’t need to uh…undress,” he sputtered, feeling his face heating up. He was certain he was probably turning beat red.
“I hate sleeping in my suit,” Tommy replied breezily. And good lord, did McGee just hear another garment hitting the floor? Even though his back was turned, McGee squeezed his eyes shut, just in case. His mouth dropped open as he heard the sound of his blanket being turned back.
“No! “ he blurted out. “I mean you don’t have to do this. I’m not…”
“Do what?” Tommy sounded genuinely confused for a moment. But then suddenly he laughed. “Oh…OH! Jeez, Probie! What kind of man do you think I am?” he asked, his tone a mixture of amusement and minor indignation. McGee was startled as he felt his blanket being flung over his shoulder. A moment later one of his pillows sailed past his head, landing on the living room floor just a few inches away from his couch. “I didn’t even realize you swung that way…”
“What? No! I’m not--I'm not gay!”
“Whoa, it’s okay, Probie. I don’t judge.”
“But I’m not--"
“G’night, McGee,” Tommy spoke through a yawn, cutting off McGee’s protest. McGee could hear the mattress springs as the other man climbed into his bed.
“Goodnight…Tommy,” he murmured, still at a loss for how he was supposed to respond. Was Tommy really intending to spend the night? He dared to peek over his shoulder and saw the actor seemingly intent on doing just that. He had McGee’s sheets pulled up to his chin and was lying on his side, his back to McGee.
For a few moments McGee simply stood in the doorway, and then he resigned himself to sleeping on the couch. He had to commend the actor for being ballsy. And he definitely had the right look to play Agent Tommy. And though he was definitely playing the obnoxious role to the hilt, there was still something likable about him. All in all…he was definitely the best audition. In the morning he’d get the actor’s representation information--and a signed contract that IF he got cast he would never again show up at McGee’s apartment uninvited.
He gathered up his pillow and blanket and stretched out on the couch for the night.
“Hey, McGee?” he heard Tommy call in a soft voice.
“Yeah?”
“I won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me,” the sleepy voice assured him, sounding completely sincere.
McGee let out a small huff and shook his head.
But that didn’t stop the small smile that adorned his face as he drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that he’d found his Tommy. Today hadn’t been a complete waste, and tomorrow was sure to be better.