McGee woke with a startled yelp as his phone woke him from deep sleep. After taking only a moment to gain his bearings, he rolled not from his comfortable bed but from his not-quite-so comfy couch and scrambled to get to his phone. His back was stiff, but he supposed it was worth the trade-off considering that he wouldn’t have to suffer through any further Agent Tommy auditions. He snatched his phone from the counter, hoping that it hadn’t wakened his unexpected houseguest.

“Special Agent McGee,” he announced as he answered the call.

“McGee, this is Agent Sacks.”

Of the FBI, Mc Gee recognized the name immediately. But why would Sacks be…? “Oh! You must be working the Anthony DiNozzo case?”

“Yes. What can you tell me?”

“I’m not sure what help I can be. I haven’t actually met him. He won a writing contest my marketing agent put together and I was supposed to meet him for dinner but he never showed. All I can tell you is that I had a driver pick him up at the airport and get him checked into the hotel. Have you found anything?”

“So you never actually saw him?”

McGee frowned at the suspicion in Sacks’ tone. “Didn’t even talk to him. My agent set everything up,” he answered carefully. Something felt really off. He bit his lip nervously as he considered a moment. What if they’d found DiNozzo? What if he was…dead?  “Did you find him? Is he okay?”

“No,” Sacks answered curtly, though McGee wasn’t sure which question he was answering. No they hadn’t found him or no he wasn’t okay? McGee was afraid to ask, so he simply continued answering whatever questions Sacks had for him.

Though Sacks wouldn’t reveal anything about his leads or theories outright, McGee got the distinct feeling that Sacks suspected that McGee was involved somehow.

“Like I said, I don’t have much that would help. But maybe you could send me a copy of the files and I can--"

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea, Agent McGee,” Sacks denied sharply, solidifying McGee’s theory that Sacks didn’t trust him. “I’ll be in touch if I have any further questions,” the FBI agent ended the call abruptly.

McGee sighed as he hung up his phone. Sacks always seemed like the suspicious sort, and he generally seemed to assume the worst in people. McGee had even based a character on the man in one of his books when he needed a “friendly-foe” in the FBI to challenge Agent Tommy’s innocence when he was framed for murder.

What if that’s what Sacks’ reluctance to talk to him was about? McGee had barely even disguised the man’s name in that novel. He hoped Sacks wasn’t upset at the role he’d played in the book. It hadn’t been McGee’s intention to make him look any less than a devoted and perseverant Agent, determined to get to the truth, even if the truth turned out to be that Agent Tommy was guilty. Of course now that McGee thought about it, the fact that Slacks might not have come across so well when he was in such dogged pursuit of a ‘beloved’ character that the readers of course had all known would turn out to be innocent…

Yeah, McGee should probably just back away and let Sacks handle the case.

Except that he really did want to know what was going on. Was DiNozzo alive, or had he been murdered? And what if he had been murdered? Was McGee a suspect? After all he’d brought the man out to DC and…and would have no motive, really, that he could think of…but would that stop him from being under suspicion?

McGee needed to find out what was going on. Talking to Sacks would obviously not get him anywhere. He didn’t really have the pull to find out anything himself, but…he pursed his lips as he debated with himself on whether or not to make the call.

It couldn’t hurt anything, it wasn’t like the man was his boss anymore…but they were friends. Well. Not in the ‘go out to dinner’ sort of way. Or the ‘call each other on weekends’ way. Or…okay they hadn’t really even talked since McGee had been reassigned, but they did ask Abby about each other every few days. Or at least he asked, and Abby told him every once in a while that his name had come up in her conversations…

It was a worth a shot. He picked up his cell and hit the speed dial for his former boss.

“Gibbs,” the terse answer came a few moments later.

“Er…Hi, Boss…I mean Gibbs.” McGee winced at his greeting. “I mean, um…This is Agent McGee…well of course you know who I am, but well…"

“McGee!”

“Yes, Boss?”

“I’m a little busy here. Why are you calling?” the man asked dryly and McGee wasn’t sure but it sounded like the man sounded slightly amused.

McGee hurriedly explained the situation being as to-the-point as he could possibly be.

“I’m a bit tied up today,” Gibbs informed him when he was through. McGee winced. Of course Gibbs wouldn’t be able to help. There were several major events scheduled that day, culminating with the Embassy Ball that night. Security for those events certainly had to take precedence over the disappearance of a small town gym teacher. He was about to apologize for bothering Gibbs when the man continued. “Fornell’s around. I’ll see if I can get him to reach out to Sacks, find out what’s on his mind.”

“Thanks, Boss,” McGee replied to the dial tone as Gibbs abruptly hung up. It was reassuring that even while Gibbs had far more important things going on at the Embassy, he would still watch McGee’s six.

McGee had planned to spend the day touring the city with the winner of the Gemcity contest and now found himself with nothing on his docket until the party that night. Except, he reminded himself, for getting his houseguest’s agency information and getting that all taken care of.

He knocked on the bedroom door, hoping to wake “Tommy” and get his contact information. When there was no answer, he hesitated for a few moments and then knocked again. He frowned when there was still no response. “Tommy?” he called, wishing he knew the guys’ real name. When there was still no reply, he pushed the door open--to reveal an empty bed.

His heart sank as he considered having to go through another day of casting calls for the character. Probably the actor had woken during the night, realized what a nervy stunt he’d pulled, and disappeared in hopes that McGee wouldn’t be able to track him down and get him blackballed or something. If only he’d left his contact information or some way to…McGee’s attention was drawn to the packages and clothing that Tommy had left behind.  His brow furrowed as he tried to reconcile their presence with Tommy’s absence.

Maybe he’d just stepped out for a few minutes, McGee considered as he padded to the front door, opened it and peeked out into the hallway to verify that the man hadn’t locked himself out somehow…which come to think of it, he shouldn’t have been able to do, and McGee should not have just had to unlock the door. Suddenly tense he glanced toward the hook where he generally left his keys.

Sure enough, it was empty.

McGee’s eyes widened as he quickly turned to scan his countertop, desk, and coffee table in case he’d inadvertently left his keys out. They were nowhere to be seen. His anxiety began to increase. Surely Tommy wouldn’t have just taken them. Right?

Then again, he began to reason, it was the sort of thing the character Tommy would do. Was Tommy-the-actor still playing the part and messing with him? McGee didn’t even know how to track the man down. He didn’t have a full name or an agency to work with. He should never have allowed the man to stay in his apartment, what was he *thinking*? He’d been way too trusting, that was for sure. Tommy could’ve been some crazy…actually come to think of it, he probably *was* completely crazy. What kind of guy would just barge into a stranger’s apartment and proceed to make himself at home like Tommy had done? And McGee had just let him go ahead and do it! He should have...he didn’t know what; kicked the man out, called the police…anything. And now the guy had the keys to his apartment! He was going to have to have his locks changed and…his car! He raced to the window and felt completely ill as he saw the empty parking space where his car was supposed to be.

McGee dropped heavily into his office chair, totally astounded by the way he’d been so…trusting and complacent that he had absolutely no idea what he should do. God, if he called the police how was he supposed to admit that he’d let this total stranger into his apartment and let him spend the night in his bed and never once thought…never once even *considered* that the guy would possibly have nefarious motives. It could have been so much worse than having his car stolen, he realized, feeling the blood draining from his face. The guy could’ve been an axe murderer and McGee had just let him move right in! Normally McGee considered himself to be quite intelligent, but he’d been so incredibly stupid and now he was going to have to admit it to the cops…and worse--sooner or later Gibbs was bound to catch wind of it!

He shoved against the desk in frustration before reaching again for his phone. The jarring movement caused his mouse to move, clearing his screensaver and…he blinked as he saw the words appearing on his screen.

Hide what? His eyes widened as he read the rest of the message. On one hand, he felt slightly better because it seemed that Tommy did intend to bring his car back. On the other, though, now he was fairly certain that the man was completely insane. Rent him a car? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He cringed at the idea that somewhere out on the roads this guy was out there driving around in his car. Would insurance even cover it if there was an accident? This was a nightmare…

And it was about to get worse, he thought inanely as he heard the sound of metal scraping against metal as someone struggled to insert a key into the lock on his door.

If Tommy was as crazy as McGee now suspected he was, McGee feared that getting him to leave peacefully might not be as easy as he’d like. While they were roughly the same height, Tommy was a lot more muscular, and Tim…well, he’d never been much of a fighter. Maybe he should grab his sig…just in case.

Before he could get to the key under his keyboard, however, the door swung open and Tommy burst into the apartment.

“Good morning, Starshine,” Tommy sang in a boisterous, slightly off-key voice as he tossed something straight at McGee, whose reflexes sent him scrambling to avoid getting hit. He felt slightly foolish as he heard the paper sack hitting the ground where he’d stood. “Picked you up a breakfast burrito, McSleepyhead. But if you don’t want it…” the man had the gumption to sound slightly offended.

“Um…thanks,” Tim gulped, glancing at the sack for a few moments before reaching down to pick it up and peeking inside to verify the contents. “Um…look, Tommy…?”

Tommy ignored McGee’s stammering as he plunked down on the sofa and dug into a sack of his own.  “You plan to get dressed today, Probie?” Tommy asked around the mouthful of burrito.

McGee glanced down at his attire in confusion. Oh yeah. He was still in his pjs.

“I’ve been thinking,” Tommy announced. “I thought David attacked me yesterday.”

Tim blinked. “What? Why would Ziva…?”

“Director David. I figured he was involved in her disappearance.” Before McGee could make sense of that, Tommy continued. “But I don’t think so. He didn’t look angry when he was standing over me,” Tommy recalled.

“Look, um, Tommy. Don’t you think maybe it’s time to stop this? I mean…tell me what agency you’re with and I can--"

Tommy cocked an eyebrow as he answered, “NCIS. You feeling okay, McGoo? I remember he didn’t look angry, he looked worried. So I’m thinking that he wasn’t the one who attacked me.”

“Someone attacked you?”

Tommy pulled a crumpled wad of newspaper from his pocket and tossed it at Tim. “It most likely has to be one of these guys,” he figured.

McGee frowned as he began uncrumpling the page and revealed a picture of Eli David and his entourage of Mossad Officers, likely his protection detail. Rivkin, Hadar, and Viktir, according to the caption.

“But why--"

“That’s what we have to find out,” Tommy cut him off. “So get dressed if you’re coming with me.”

“Tommy, don’t you think it’s time to stop playing this game? As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got the job. I’ll draw up a--"

Tommy looked momentarily confused but then held up his hand to cut McGee off. “It’s okay. I don’t think I need backup. I’m not going to confront anyone, just want to do a little recon. Maybe see if I can get close to David without his goon patrol. Did you rent me a car?”

“Uh. No,” Tim replied firmly.

Tommy looked momentarily annoyed but then nodded. As he rose to his feet, he crumpled up the now emptied burrito wrapper and tossed it toward the wastebasket, falling a couple inches short.  “Okay. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours then.”

“You really don’t have to. Seriously, just give me your--" before McGee could finish, Tommy was out the door again. Great. Tommy was certainly crazy, but at least he did seem harmless. Still, McGee wasn’t reveling the idea that he’d be back…

Wait…

“My car!” McGee realized aloud as he quickly scrambled to grab his shoes and follow after Tommy. He didn’t have time to grab his Sig. Without keys to lock the deadbolt, he could only secure his apartment using the pathetic doorknob lock, but it was better than nothing. The odds of someone picking today to break in was slim…unless of course this was all some elaborate setup that Tommy had plotted.

Taking the stairs three at a time, McGee bounded down to the lobby, hoping to cut Tommy off. Unfortunately, he was too late. He burst outside just in time to see his car racing out of the lot. And now he didn’t even have a key to get back in…and he’d left his cellphone inside! Damn it! He’d have to contact the building Super and get him to--

Even better, he decided as he saw an alternate choice appear before him. He stood at the curb and waved down an approaching taxicab.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…follow that car!” he directed the driver as he clambered into the back seat. As the cab driver complied, he sank back in the seat, finally taking the time to put on his shoes.

Though the driver put up a good chase, Tommy was too far ahead and after a few turns he was no longer in sight. After driving a little further in hopes of spotting him again, the cabbie pulled over to await new instructions.

McGee cringed as he realized that he’d not only left his cellphone, but he’d also left his wallet behind. Which meant he had no way to pay his fare. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat for a few moments as he tried to figure out what to do next. Should he go home and hope that his supervisor was there and could let him into his apartment? Or maybe go to NCIS. Abby or Ducky would probably spot him the money for fare. Or he could go to the Embassy and see if Gibbs was…the Embassy!

Tommy was looking for Director David, and odds were pretty good that if Director David was in town, sooner or later, he’d end up on Embassy Row. If not before, at least he’d be there for the Ball, anyway. Either way, it was a pretty good bet that Tommy would try to pick him up there.  They were a couple minutes behind, but Tommy would have to deal with finding parking, so with any luck the cab would catch up to him and he could make Tommy pay the cab fare. If he couldn’t find Tommy, though…well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

McGee’s instincts proved correct and he spotted Tommy just as he was getting out of McGee’s car. “Stop here!” McGee directed as he rolled down his window to yell out. “Tommy!”

Either the man didn’t hear him, or his yell was completely ignored.

“He has my wallet,” Tim hastily explained. “Wait here, I’ve got to get money from--"

The cab driver glared at him and he heard the car door lock. What the--? “You took a cab without having money to pay?” the driver accused angrily.

“Seriously, he’s right there,” McGee pointed toward where he could see Tommy jogging across the square, heading toward the Israeli Embassy. “I’m good for it. I just need to get money from him,” he tried to assure.

But the cab driver shook his head. “I’ve been ripped off enough, kid. Now are you going to pay or do I need to call the police?”

“No! No need to call the police, I just have to…” he could already see the fury building in the cabbie’s eyes and his mind raced trying to come up with a viable resolution. “These are $120 shoes,” he announced as he started taking them back off. “You hold these and I’ll go get the money.”

The cabbie’s lips pursed and for a moment Tim was certain that he wasn’t going to accept it.

“You have five minutes,” the driver relented, unlocking the door. “Otherwise I call the cops.” He pointed to the security camera in the front seat to be sure that McGee knew of its presence.

“Thanks! I swear, five minutes,” McGee assured him again as he waited for the door to be unlocked again. As soon as he was out he began chasing after Tommy, who had already reached the Israeli Embassy and disappeared into a small crowd that was gathered in the gated courtyard, listening to some sort of speech.

As McGee approached the gates, however, the guards moved to block his path.

“What is your business?” one of them questioned him, eyeing his silk pajamas and bare feet with clear suspicion.

“I…just need…to…get…um. A…friend of…mine…is…” Tim panted as he tried to peer past the guards to see if he could spot Tommy.

“Do you have any ID, sir?”

“No…I…”

“Perhaps you should wait outside for your friend.” The guard’s tone of voice made it clear that it was not a suggestion.

“No! You don’t…understand!” McGee cringed as he realized how this must look to them. He rose to his tiptoes and searched over the guards’ shoulders. “Tommy!” he called out as he spotted the man just a few yards away.

Tommy glared at him over his shoulder, but then turned his attention back to the crowd.

“TOMMY!” he hissed again as the guard roughly tried to pull him away. He could feel himself blushing a little bit as several people turned to see who was causing the commotion.

Tommy glared at him again, motioning for McGee to get back and to stop drawing attention.

“Come here!” Tim tried again.

Again his only response was for Tommy to wave him away, this time pausing to pointedly nod toward something on the other side of the courtyard crowd and then glaring back at McGee. McGee followed the gaze and spotted…none other than Director David. Who was looking back at him. Tim bit his lip and looked momentarily back at Tommy before realizing his mistake. He quickly looked back to the Director and winced as he saw that the man had followed his gaze and was now looking directly at Tommy and pointing him out to the men at his side. Tim gulped as he saw two of the men, Rivkin and Victir, rising to their feet and starting to circle toward where Tommy was standing.

Seeing the same thing, Tommy quickly turned and headed toward him. “Damn it, Probie!” he cursed as he reached the gate, David’s guards only a few yards behind him. “Could you be a little more obvious next time?” he growled as he grabbed McGee’s wrist and tugged him as he broke into a jog once he was past the embassy guards.

McGee ventured a glance behind as they ran, hoping that once they were away from the Embassy they’d be deemed innocuous, but it seemed that David’s guards were still in pursuit--and they were gaining!

Tommy swore under his breath before suddenly he changed direction; no longer running toward the car, but instead toward the large decorative fountain in the middle of the square.

“Tommy!” McGee cried out in alarm as he was reluctantly dragged along until they reached the fountain and Tommy jumped up onto the short ledge and abruptly stopped, nearly sending McGee sprawling into the water.

Bewildered at why they were stopping, McGee turned to see where David’s men had gone. To his horror, they were still closing in. So why had Tommy stopped?

“Oh what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful day!” Tommy began singing and McGee was quite certain that the man was stark raving mad. Except…he watched incredulously as people throughout the square began turning their attention to the actor as he continued the song. That was it! He was trying to draw attention to them so that David’s guards couldn’t…he actually caught himself starting to grin as he saw their pursuers slow to a halt. With all attention being focused on Tommy and McGee, they couldn’t really do anything without tons of witnesses. McGee had to admit that as ridiculous as the move seemed, it was pretty much the best solution.

Except for one small problem.

“That’s the guy, there!” McGee heard a voice accusing and looked over to see the cab driver. Pointing at him. With two police officers standing by his side.