Hi I've missed everyone! Thanks for sticking with me;D

Tuesday 21st December

Its 6.03am. Tim is sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen watching the second hand on his screen saver clock move all the way around to make it 6.04. There's a foot of snow outside and it's freezing in the empty bullpen. A few people are milling around the squad room, quietly finishing work from the day before, but apart from them their floor is pretty much a ghost town. All its missing is the tumble weed.

Of course the bullpen won't be empty for long because Gibbs is on his way in. Ziva however is not. She's likely halfway to TelAviv by now, having been lucky enough to be granted a few vacation days and won't be back until after New Year. McGee, of course, has been at work since 05:30, awake since four, all because despite Tony insisting this little undercover stint will be a cakewalk, and to quote the master of fake himself 'what he does best', his gut is still churning.

McGee stares at the traditional clock face on his computer screen - his attempt at irony. 6.05. He knows he should tap the keyboard and power it to life, do some work, but Tim can't move, not even to lift his arm from where it's resting on the desk, fingers tingling from lack of use. His thoughts are still swirling, but he's unable to grasp even one to hold onto long enough to figure out. Tim, inexperienced in the gut churning feeling Gibbs and even DiNozzo seemed to have mastered control over, feels physically sick.

6.06.

"Have you heard from Tony, boss?" McGee blurts uncontrollably the second Gibbs strides in, two coffee cups in hand.

"No," he snaps, swallowing one of the cups contents down in one go, dropping it into the waste basket by his desk before sitting down. "And I don't expect to."

Throwing off his coat Gibbs pulls himself closer to his desk and powers up his computer ready to work, never once making eye contact.

McGee winces, realising his mistake and finally manages to move his arm enough to power up his own machine. "Yeah, of course, sorry." He mutters, following the Boss's lead and keeping his head down.

Tim check's his emails in silence, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. A glance off to his left has him pausing, his gaze lingering on the empty chair. The churning in his gut heightens for a second, a flutter in his stomach barely recognisable as anything until it settles again, returning to its continuous dull ache. A pattern that has been repeating itself since late last night upon Tony leaving his apartment.

McGee tenses, sighs and ducks his head, focusing back on his work. Fidgeting more if that was even possible, he just can't concentrate. Normally he'd get to talk over what was bugging him with Abby, but she isn't allowed to know about Tony's assignment, nor is Ducky for that matter and even if Ziva were here, she'd probably be just as frustrated and closed off as Gibbs anyway. The enforced secrecy is actually adding to his fears for Tony. He hasn't been right recently, his little Christmas display aside, though he hasn't been as obviously sombre, he's still been… different…

The thing McGee's learnt about DiNozzo over the years is that he's a really sensitive guy. Tony's either very happy or very sad, there's no in-between, whether he's bouncing off the walls doing some insanely annoying thing or sat daydreaming at his desk ignoring the world around him that's just Tony. Unlike himself who definitely feels the middle age grump creeping over him, the joys of life being sucked out leaving behind nothing but a husk concerned with work, death and taxes.

"McGee!" Gibbs manages to simultaneously snap and sigh, making Tim jump up from his ever decreasing slump and fall back in his chair with a resounding thud, "either spit it out or sit still and shut up, you're worse than DiNozzo."

He hadn't realised he'd been fidgeting that badly to be truthful, but then Gibbs was rather sensitive to annoying things, merely chewing loudly pissed him off some days.

"Is this a good idea boss?" Tim opted to say it despite the voice screaming in his head to go for the second option.

Gibbs calmly puts down the pen he's been wielding like a weapon aimed at his head and folds his hands in front of him. "Is what a good idea Agent McGee?"

"Well, you know Tony," Tim hedges, sensing by the stress on Agent, and the fact that Gibbs has used the title at all that it's the wrong question to ask, but ask he must, despite being unsure how to say it without sounding like he's ratting Tony out, "he's just not been himself recently and when we were going over his cover he…"

"He what?" Gibbs snaps again, voice harder, but Tim detects a hint of concern bleeding through.

"He wasn't excited." Tim deflates, knowing how lame that sounds, but feeling unable to communicate what happened last night in any other way.

Luckily Gibbs does seem to understand what he means by 'not excited', for the pissed-off straight-faced glare that's been aimed his way since choosing to open his mouth has morphed into a softer look, one that can only be described as abject concern and apprehension. For a split second the churning in his gut fades, only to be replaced with a much stronger sensation – guilt. McGee realises he's just confirmed the boss's worst fear.

Gibbs face slips back into blank expressionism, gaze refocusing on the paper work in front of him. "He's a big boy, McGee, he'll handle it."

He should take the hint this time, but Tim's too far gone, too little sleep with too much caffeine and still snow wet feet is impairing his judgement and will to survive. Challenging Gibbs on a good day is dicey, even an inexperienced Probie would take one look at Gibbs today and drop the subject immediately, but despite all the signs Tim still takes his life in his hands and pushes for a resolution, anything to settle the nervous churning that won't let up in his stomach.

"Maybe I can visit the hospital and check in with him, pose as a friend or something, just to see if he's okay-"

Gibbs stands up suddenly, chair flying into the divide behind him and marches toward the elevator, a raised hand and crocked finger being Tim's signal to follow.

Once inside the doors close blocking out any natural light.

"Are you deaf McGee?"

The elevator clunks to a halt.

"What?"

"Or did you just forget what the director said yesterday?" Gibbs snaps.

They'd been in the moving car mere seconds; the back-up lights not even having had time to kick in yet from the emergency stop.

"I er… What part?" Tim asks nervously.

Gibbs steps closer to him, forcing Tim to take an involuntary step back. He isn't as brave as Tony to remain in such close proximity to the man likely to knock his head off if he doesn't provide the correct answer.

"The part about this being a secret McGee!"

Oh that... Tim blinks and breaths.

"No, but I thought…."

"This is all on DiNozzo." Gibbs gives him a complex look that to Tim says the exact opposite. "We stay out of it, got it?"

There's a prolonged pause, Tim doesn't know what to say at first. His MIT brain may be able to work out equations in nanoseconds, but interpreting human responses is something that takes him a little longer. A raised eyebrow and quirk of a lip from Gibbs is the final clue to trust his instincts.

"Yes boss," He nods reluctantly, thinking he's reading the double meaning right.

Gibbs nods too, stepping away leaving a more comfortable distance between them and flicking the switch to get them moving again. Nothing else is said. Both facing forward Tim risks a glance to his left and sees Gibbs no longer looks livid. The car stops and doors slide apart, no one is waiting as Gibbs steps off on the floor for the mezzanine.

"I'm just really worried about him." Tim hastens to add before the doors close in front of him.

Gibbs pauses on the threshold, giving him an unreadable look.

"Yeah," he says sounding tired, "me too."

Gibbs steps off and the doors close, the car returning Tim to the bullpen below so he can continue staring at his screen and the clock, in his wet snow soaked socks.

.

Gibbs bursts through the Director's door. Vance looks at his watch comically and eyes Gibbs.

"Funny," he says sounding like he thinks it's anything but, "I thought you'd at least make it until lunch."

"Expecting me, Leon?" Gibbs draws out his name again with a smile, knowing Vance expects nothing less.

"Your boy in place?" Vance doesn't go for the bait though, keeps it all business.

Gibbs just nods and goes down another road, a road he just yelled at McGee for. "I want an in. A way to contact him without drawing suspicion."

"Is that really necessary?" Vance fishes, "I thought DiNozzo could handle himself in the field."

"He can. He's one of the best." Gibbs agreed sternly, frustrated that he can't be sure if Vance is baiting him on purpose, even more frustrated because he's reacting to it.

"So what's the issue?"

Smug look Gibbs notices with chagrin, definitely baiting.

"No issue." Gibbs denies. "I'd just feel better if Tony has a safety net."

The words come out awkward and disjointed. Not his usual style.

"Look Gibbs," Vance's smug smile gets even smugger if that's at all possible. "He isn't in as a patient. He's free to abort at any time. The regular check in before and after his shift with CID will suffice. Have a little faith in your boy, Jethro."

If the smug look hadn't already tipped him off that Vance knew exactly why he is in here then the use of his given name certainly did. Heading for the door Gibbs nods resignedly, seeing he's accomplishing nothing other than getting mad with himself for acting the over protective parent again. Turning in the doorway, palm grasping the handle, he adds one last thing -

"I always have faith in him Leon."

TBC…