6

A/N: I have taken a week-long hiatus from Surviving Winter so I can regroup. A sequel to A Domesticated Guy has been gnawing at me and is much easier to write among the chaos of cleaning up after a tornado. This will be 6 chapters, far shorter than my more epic endeavors. This is a new world and new language for me, and I will try not to embarrass myself here. I respect that it may not be a pairing that works for you. I will have a new Surviving Winter chapter by the end of this week.

If you are so inclined, I would love to hear from you. Sheila

Learning Curve

Chapter 1

McGee sat at his computer and struggled to focus. Their case was heating up. He and Gibbs had the last two days tracking down Chief Petty Officer Arnold Hansen, accused of raping and killing two women in the D.C. area. Their visit to his hometown had been fruitful and they'd hurried back to the office this morning, tracking Hansen to a number of possible hideouts among relatives in Maryland.

McGee was trying to pin down the last of three addresses, but it was proving elusive. On a normal day, he would be frustrated with his lack of progress, but today was not normal, and it had nothing to do with Hansen.

Images of the previous night in the hotel kept hitting his consciousness like storm warnings; showing up with intensity and then disappearing again before they could be processed. He had to type the last address three times in order to get it right because when he looked at his fingers, it reminded him of Gibbs' fingers sliding underneath his boxers to settle on his ass. It was both horrifying and exciting, and McGee couldn't help but feel that everyone around him could see each of these illicit images.

Gibbs swung into the bullpen, startling McGee. "Do you have that last address, McGee?"

"Almost," he croaked, his face burning.

"Almost is the same as nothing, McGee!"

"I know, Boss. Five minutes." The shame of not rising to the challenge flooded through his body. Gibbs, on the other hand, was focused; so focused that there would be no way anyone would guess that he'd woken up that morning with his junior agent naked in his arms.

"Ziva, what do you have from the Maryland State Police on the addresses we've given them so far?"

McGee breathed again once the attention was off him.

"State police are on site at both locations. No sign of Hansen."

Tony looked up. "We don't find him now and he's going to run."

"Ya' think?" Gibbs glared.

Magic happened and McGee popped up like a puppet. "Last address, Boss."

"Get it to Ziva." Gibbs took off for MTAC again, disappearing as quickly as he'd appeared.

"Must have been some trip to West Virginia, McGee," Tony observed.

McGee stared at him. "Why?"

"Boss is like a cougar today. I'd hate to be in his sights. And you look like the rabbit he's been chasing."

"Shut up, Tony!" The tension flooded through him.

Tony cocked his head. "Hey, I wasn't meaning to criticize. It just looks like maybe Boss rode you a little hard over the last two days."

McGee's green eyes widened. Sometimes, it was impossible to know if Tony was baiting him or truly sympathizing with him. He could feel the color deepen in his cheeks, and he couldn't trust his voice so he mumbled something under his breath and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. It was only when he was locked in a stall that he was able to breathe again. Images flooded through, and this time he allowed them space.

Jethro Leroy Gibbs had seduced him. 24 hours ago, he would have bet $10,000 that it would have been impossible to do. And yet, thinking back on the night, it had really taken very little on Gibbs' part before Tim was panting for him. Gibbs had been gentle and slow, and each exquisite moment had been branded in McGee's memory like a tattoo. In the midst of desire, there had been no embarrassment. Kissing his boss had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Boss had been right. It was aerobic. There'd been so much freedom for him to tug and bite and tongue in ways that he would have been reluctant to do with a woman. Every spot Gibbs had touched on his body felt electric as if he had never been touched before. Gibbs' hand on his cock for the first time had left him a drooling idiot. 24 hours ago, McGee had been a confirmed heterosexual, and now he was reeling from an encounter that was definitely not heterosexual but was most definitely erotic.

"McGee, you okay?"

He jumped off the toilet seat. "Damn it, DiNozzo! Can't you leave me alone for two minutes?"

"Is something wrong with you?"

"No!" McGee shook in his frustration. "Leave me alone."

"Perhaps, he is right, Tony."

McGee rolled his eyes. "Get out of the men's room, Ziva! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"American Puritanism," Ziva observed drily.

"Whatever," Tony said. "Probie's right. He needs space."

"This is what I said."

"Alright, Ziva, let's get your tight little ninja ass out of here."

"It is quite tight, isn't it?" McGee heard her say as the men's room door closed again.

He knew he couldn't hide in the men's room all day. In fact, he was almost tempted to jerk himself off in the stall to relieve some of the pressure, but Timothy McGee was a little too formal about workplace behavior and he couldn't trust that someone wouldn't come in and hear something telling. There was no place to successfully hide in this building.

It reminded him of the conversation He and Gibbs had that very morning with Hansen's brother, Larry. Larry had talked about how private his brother was. He'd told them that Arnie had disappeared in the past, usually turning up at a cousin's house after a week or two. This was what had inspired their current manhunt, but there was something else that Larry said. He'd mentioned that although Arnie had docked at many places around the world, he'd said that San Francisco had been the most exotic. Arnie had told his brother that a person could disappear in a place like that and become whoever he needed to be.

Larry Hansen was a rather small-minded man, and had told Arnie that it sounded like "fag talk" to him. Apparently, San Francisco carried only that dimension for some people around the country. McGee realized that he wasn't remembering this moment because of his own sexuality crisis but because disappearing in San Francisco might be exactly what Arnie Hansen was thinking when he ran from his post yesterday morning.

McGee burst out of the stall and raced for his desk. Dulles was the closest airport for Hansen with the most variety of flights. He started in typing in direct flights to San Francisco, single man, ticket bought at gate. Impatiently, he bypassed airline security, and within 20 minutes, he had an A. Hansen, same age and general description, departing out of Dulles 6:30 a.m. that very morning. He stood up. "Where's Gibbs?"

McGee ran for the stairs, taking them two by two until he landed in the basement. Then he jogged into Abby's lab. He found them together as he often did; Abby, animated, showing him her latest find, and him watching her quietly, a fresh Caf-Pow in his hand. McGee was tempted to wait. Abby spent so much time alone in her lab that she truly savored these moments with Gibbs, but the case demanded otherwise.

"I found him!" He declared.

They both looked at him in surprise.

"He took an early morning flight to San Francisco. Remember Larry from this morning talking about how it was the most exotic place that Arnie had ever been? Made me think that Arnie might see it as the perfect place to disappear."

Gibbs looked startled, and then a corner of his mouth curled up. "Good work, McGee!"

For a moment, it almost rivaled having the man's strong hand on his cock, and then McGee remembered himself.

"Get two tickets to San Francisco and alert the local office in Frisco."

McGee ran out of the room and up the stairs. He hadn't made it to the first landing before he heard his name. He turned to find Gibbs behind him. He waited until Gibbs reached him. This new Gibbs didn't stop until his face was mere inches from McGee, his breath soft on McGee's cheek, and he had to stifle an urge to groan. Gibbs put a hand on his back softly. "Tim, I'm going to be taking Tony."

McGee nodded as he struggled to analyze the meaning of such a statement.

"You've broken every lead in this case. Rightfully, you should be the one to follow it to the end, but I can't let you do it right now."

McGee searched his face for further clarification.

"This case is too important, and as leader, I'm responsible for its resolution. You're a distraction for me right now. There is too much left that's unsaid, things that need to be processed. I'm bad at communication on my best days. It would be ridiculous to even attempt it now. And we can't do both at the same time. You have to understand."

Something deeper than mere disappointment gathered in McGee's gut, but he nodded as expected.

"While I'm gone, I need you to just focus on the case. Nothing else. Can you do that?"

"Yes," he said in a whisper.

"We won't talk about this again until I get home. Understood?"

McGee nodded again.

"Just remember that it was all real."

For a moment, they both stood, breathing together, but silent. McGee had a thousand questions about what that meant, but now was not the time. So he swallowed and said. "I got to get those tickets for the both of you."

He took off up the stairs before Gibbs could say another word.

….

TBC