Disclaimer : I own nothing, but the typos.

Warnings : Rated T for language.

Author's Note : Thanks to all the readers, favorites, and followers. Many, many thanks to those who have left reviews.

Epilogue is up today. Make sure read the last chapter. FF didn't bump the story after I posted yesterday, so make sure you've read chapter 9.

Enjoy. Mostly fluff and friendship here.

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The day Delilah Fielding comes to visit is the day that the elevator in Tim's building breaks down. I spent the better part of two weeks here and the one time I actually need it to work, it doesn't.

Son of a bitch.

The enthusiastic grin melts away from Delilah's face when I smash the call button for the sixth time. Just to make sure the 'Out of Order' sign isn't a freaking mistake. She joins Zoe at the base of the stairs. Her fingers delicately rub the balding treads of her wheelchair's tires. For Delilah, the four flights might as well be Mount Everest.

Sighing, I hug the bags of Chinese food and DVDs tighter to my chest. The heat from two orders of General Tso's chicken, Zoe's Sweet and Sour Shrimp, and my Moo Shoo Pork eases the lingering chill from the frigid, slushy November weather outside. When I reach Delilah and Zoe, they stare at each other like they communicate with some sort of chick ESP.

"Maybe I should just call him," Delilah offers. "We could go out to dinner. It would be nice."

Zoe shoots her a tight smile. "But wouldn't that ruin the surprise?"

Delilah shrugs. "It's not like I'm getting up there."

When she lets out a heartbroken sigh, I elbow her shoulder. She didn't just travel thousands of miles, duck Tim's calls for two days, and pick out his dinner—even though I already know what he would've ordered—to let four measly flights of stairs stop her.

"Never say never, Wheels," I interject. "Are we really going to let something like this get in our way?"

"You're right, Tony." That excited grin returns, full-force. "What's the plan?"

"We take the stairs." When her expression turns panicked, I add: "Together. It's all about teamwork, remember?"

Before she has a chance to ask, I dump the bag of DVDs into Delilah's lap and pass the food to Zoe. Despite her confused expression, Zoe doesn't ask any questions. I grab the handles of Delilah's wheelchair. She doesn't roll it out of my grasp like she usually does whenever someone touches it. I move her backwards until we're at the bottom of the first step.

I climb up the first one, brace her chair against it. "Are you ready?"

She shoots me a thumbs up. "Go for it."

"Hold on tight."

I maneuver her and the wheelchair up the stairs, one at a time. Zoe lurks in front of her like a cheerleading spotter, just in case Delilah topples out of the seat. Each thump of the step bounces through the chair, rocking her around like a ragdoll, but she doesn't even hold on to the handles.

Instead, she digs through my movie selection. "So what'd you bring for us to watch, Tony?"

"Some...Bond movies," I pant. "And…"

She holds up one container. "Harry and the Hendersons. What's that about?"

"John Lithgow and – "

"Oh!" Zoe's face lights up. "Is that the one where he's an alien and he's sent here with a team to study Earth life? I think William Shatner was in it."

"I love that movie," Delilah says.

"Uh, no." I pause long enough to stare them both down. "You're both thinking of Third Rock from the Sun. That was a television show. This film is about John Lithgow and Bigfoot. It starred Don Ameche, Melinda Dillon, and a bunch of other popular 1980s actors. How could you mess that up, Zoe? I thought I taught you better than that."

If looks could kill, Gibbs and Ellie would have a pretty horrific scene to clear on Tim's stairs.

Zoe scrunches her nose. "Why would anyone want to watch a movie about Bigfoot?"

"Well, Tim and I talked about it during…" I let my voice trail off.

Delilah and Zoe stay silent and I cringe inwardly. Of course, no one particularly wants to discuss the day Tim damn near died. The awkward silence sneaks between us as I maneuver Delilah and the chair upstairs. By the time we hit the second floor landing, I'm sweating through my shirt and the whole stairwell reeks like cheap, greasy Chinese food. Good G-d, am I starving.

Somewhere between the third and fourth floor, Delilah's phone buzzes.

After pulling it out of her purse, she holds it up. "It's Tim. What should I do?"

"Doesn't he know it's the middle of the night?" I ask.

She checks her watch. "It's a little after three. He's probably calling to say good morning."

I blink. "Why would anyone get up that early?"

"I spend an hour at the gym, catch up with Tim, and head into the office by six."

Zoe makes a face. "And I can barely get into the office for my 9AM briefing. It takes forever to get out of bed, but I could go all night."

"You usually do," I say without thinking.

She shoots me another lethal look while Delilah cracks up. I drop my eyes to the back of the wheelchair and try to savor my last moments of life. As soon as Delilah and the food are safe, Zoe will probably chuck me down the stairs without a second thought. Then she, Tim, and Delilah will feast on my dime while the building's super scrubs my blood off the linoleum.

Moment later, Delilah's phone buzzes again. When she checks it, she sighs like a schoolgirl head over heels in love with the boy of the month. The chair rocks sideways and I tighten my grip.

"What's that all about?" Zoe asks.

Delilah perks up. "What do you mean?"

"You can't make that sort of noise and not tell us what it's about." It's an order, hidden in the guise of a request.

"Tim just texted me."

Zoe cocks an eyebrow. "And?"

"It says, 'I couldn't end today without telling you how much I love you.'"

And then…my girlfriend sighs too. "I never would've pegged Tim as such a romantic."

I bark a laugh. "Yeah, it's kind of…" Stupid? Sickening? Pointl -

"Wonderful," Zoe says.

"Wha – " I blink "- what?"

"I think it's sweet," she replies while shooting me yet another look.

For the love of G-d, why do women—even strong, practical, no-nonsense women like Zoe—go ga-ga over that sort of bullshit?

Note to self: send Zoe some cheesy, passionate texts to get myself out of the doghouse I'm in for whatever it was I was supposed to do. And didn't? Or did do when I wasn't supposed to. For shit's sake, I have no freaking clue anymore.

I jerk Delilah's wheelchair up to the fourth floor. I never thought I'd be more excited to have another guy encroach on a group of girls than right now. In fact, I might just let Tim have them while I escape somewhere way more masculine like a sports bar or Gibbs' basement.

As soon as she's steady on the landing, Delilah zooms towards Tim's apartment, leaving Zoe and I to eat her dust. With her fingers drumming on the tires, she half-waits for us to catch up. But excitement gets the better of her. We haven't even made it three steps before she pounds on the door.

Grabbing Zoe's hand, I yank her down the hallway.

She gasps, tightens her grip on the food, but I don't slow down. Just as the door starts to open, we jump into position behind Delilah. I collide with her chair and she gives a little squeak.

I try to school my face into a suave smile, but I'm fairly certain that I might be grinning like an idiot. Zoe squeezes my hand and pulls me closer. Just underneath the scent of Chinese food, I catch her vanilla and patchouli perfume. I bet this is what heaven would smell like if they had a Wok and Roll there.

Moments later, Tim answers the door with crutches jammed underneath his armpits. He slumps on them as though he can't stand to bear weight on his right leg. His hair is mussed, his sweats wrinkled. His heavy-lidded eyes glide over the three of us like he might just be dreaming.

"Hey Tim," Delilah says.

His grin chases away the last bits of sleep, the last traces of his pain meds.

"Delilah." Her name comes like a prayer. "You're really here."

She holds her hands out. "Surprise. Just got in on the last plane."

He stoops as best he can to pull her into a tight hug that stretches on forever. Zoe must feel the romance too because she kisses my cheek, even though she believes in minimizing physical contact in public. At all times.

When Tim straightens up, he stares at us blankly.

I laugh. "Aren't you going to invite us in, McGeek?"

He springs to life, easing himself out of the way. "Oh yeah, come in. The place is a bit of a mess." He rakes his hand across his face. "I wasn't really expecting company…just Tony."

The way he says it with a sense of familiarity like after two weeks I'm just another piece of furniture. Which maybe I am, in a way. Since he got discharged, I've spent more time here than my own place. I brought us dinner, kept him company, played some video games at his pleading, and caught a couple of movies—okay, fine, I admit it, we rewatched Sex and the City. The show, not the movies…

Up until last week, he was wheelchair-bound, just like Delilah. So he had the opportunity to experience his home from her point of view. As a result, we've spent a good chunk of our time together brainstorming how to make the space livable. I think if we start with the elevator, the rest of the place should be a piece of cake.

I let my eyes wander around the space. Ever since Tim got rid of those big, industrial shelving units and his books last weekend—some interior decorator with too much money and not enough sense paid us for the privilege to haul them away—it's become completely different.

Now, we are granted to an impended view of his apartment. Somehow, he managed to destroy the place since I left last night. His couch cushions are rumpled, blankets and afghans cascade across the floor like a hurricane blew through here. Pill bottles, chip bags, and an army of water bottles hang out on the coffee table next to a pair of gaming controllers. On the big-screen television, the save file from last night's game flashes like Tim lies in wait to finish kicking my ass. As soon as I figure out how to play, I swear to G-d he's going down.

Tim's cheeks flush as he slumps onto the couch, his eyes hazy from shock and Vicodin. "Wow, Del, I can't believe you're really here."

Delilah nods, half-listening.

By the look on her face, I doubt she had the chance to experience Tim's bachelor living at its best before she jetted off for Dubai. Long distance has the tendency to make one comfortable with their own mess and lets them hide everything right before their significant other visit. And I bet that's what she sees now, the chaotic disorder of dirty dishes and rumpled bedding. Not the tiny pieces of lime green duct tape all over the place that tally our projects for her arrival. Or his own wheelchair parked in the corner.

Part of me wonders whether she'll be able to put with all of Tim's neuroses. G-d knows, she won't be able to medicate him like I did.

"You know," Zoe speaks up, "Delilah, why don't you help me get the food ready?"

When my girlfriend shoots me a look that says, get Tim's shit cleaned up, I decide not to tell her to avoid the kitchen. It's the epicenter of bachelor untidiness where no matter how much we clean it the mysterious stains just reproduce on their own.

Delilah reaches out to give Tim's hand a squeeze. "I'll be right back."

Nodding mutely, he watches our girlfriends head into his kitchen.

"Alright, Tim let's get this cleaned up before the womenfolk come back. Maybe you a clean place will help you get McLucky later." Even though the and me goes unspoken, Tim picks up on it.

He rolls his eyes. "I think that's out of the question for a few more weeks."

I retrieve the half-full trash bag I stored behind the couch before I attack the clutter on the coffee table. "It should only out of the question if you're dead or in the hospital. Uh, well…even there, if you're awake, it should be fair game."

He genuinely laughs as he rescues his pill bottles out of the disaster area. I slide everything else into the bag and stow it behind the couch again. When I start folding his blankets, I stare at him earnestly.

"Did your doctor call you yet, Tim?" I ask.

"Yeah, the test results were better than she expected. She thinks I'll make a full recovery…after a bunch of rest and physical therapy. Speaking of which, I start a new schedule next week…" Never one to admit that he might need help, he lets his voice trail off as his eyes flick to the kitchen.

"Ellie or I already talked about it. We'll drive you. I'll clear it with Gibbs tomorrow." He half-nods, still not meeting my gaze. "So...any idea when you're coming back to work?"

He lets out a broken sigh. "Six weeks at best, but it'll be desk duty for a long time."

I crack another grin. "Hey, at least you're coming back. It'll be great to have you around again. Gibbs kicked another TAD off the team today."

"What the hell happened?"

"The guy bungled evidence collection and could've cost us the case if Abby didn't catch it. How hard is it to preserve the chain of evidence?" Rubbing the back of my neck, I hiss through my teeth. "That kid made Bishop look like she was senior field agent material straight out of FLETC."

"That's not good." Tim gapes. "How many agents is that now?"

I make a show of counting on my fingers. "Five. Six, if you count that guy who wouldn't get off the elevator when he figured out he was working for Gibbs. The director's running out of probies. Pretty soon we'll be importing them from San Diego."

He laughs. "If you can get me a computer, I might be – "

"You're supposed to be taking it easy until you're clear for duty." When he sneers, all I have to offer is a one-shouldered shrug. "Doctor's orders."

"Yeah, I guess I've got a bunch of work to take care of here." He sighs, pointing to a piece of duct tape on the baseboard.

"It'll be a winter of projects for the both of us, McContractor."

He grins. "Thanks, Tony, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." I conveniently leave out the detail about how I already hired a handyman to come by next week for a quote. "What are friends for?"

"To help put you back together," Delilah says suddenly.

I hadn't even noticed how she and Zoe snuck up on us. After my girlfriend passes me and Tim our plates of Chinese food, I slide it onto the coffee table and head to the front entrance to retrieve my bag of DVDs. I grab Harry and the Hendersons from the top. By the time I return, Delilah has transferred herself to the couch. Zoe returns from her last trip to the kitchen with a bottle of wine.

Tim turns to Delilah. "Are we celebrating that you're visiting?"

"Bigger than that," Zoe says, grinning broadly.

My partner's brow furrows. "Del? What's going on?"

"I was going to save it as a surprise for later, but – " Delilah's grin takes over her face " – I got a re-assigned with my team back to DC. I'm not going back to Dubai. That's why it took me so long to come. I was packing up the apartment."

Tim looks like the world just slid out from underneath him. "You're staying?"

She pulls a keyring out of her pocket. "If the offer still stands."

"Yes! Yes, of course!" The shock slowly gives way to excitement. He hugs her as though he'll never let her go. "Of course, it does. I want you here with me, everyday forever."

At that moment, I feel Zoe by my side again. She weaves her fingers between mine, grasping me like a lifeline. Together, we slip away to give my partner and his girlfriend a few minutes of privacy. But it's harder than I thought in his now, unsubdivided apartment.

We end up in Tim's bathroom, grinning at each other like schoolyard crushes as I lock the door behind us. This is the woman I fell in love ten years ago, but I never had the courage to tell her.

"I can't believe that just happened." Zoe breathes. "Did you know about it?"

"Of course, I did." I waggle my eyebrows. "I know everything."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"And ruin the surprise? You can't keep a secret to save your life. You haven't changed at all since Philly."

Her laugh is intoxicating, just like her scent. It all makes my head spin.

"Well," she says, "you have."

"What do you mean?"

She laughs again, deeper and throatier. "You're stable, established…happy."

"I was stable in Philly."

"I wouldn't classify packing up your apartment on a Tuesday night and heading out to Illinois as stable." When I hold my hands in surrender, she smiles. "But I'm just glad to be with you. For however long we might have."

My chest tightens at the thought that I could lose this again, might not have this chance to be with her, that she could slip through my fingers like she did in Philly when I walked away.

On reflex, my hand reaches into my jacket pocket to feel for the apartment key I made for her when we reconnected. Okay, so I stole Tim's idea, but it really was a damned good one. I never had the courage to tell her back in Philly. And I doubted I would have it here too.

But I guess it took being taken hostage by hillbillies, running for my life, and watching my partner almost bleed to death to make me realize I can't make the mistake of losing her again.

I hold her gaze as I show her the key. I'm not the ring and children kind of guy—unlike Tim who's probably out there dreaming up names for his and Delilah's third daughter. But I can give her this.

Zoe's face softens as she tentatively touches the key. The look in her eyes tells me that she knows this will be the most she ever gets. She inhales sharply.

"Tony, are you sure?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

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Author's Note 2.0 : Well, that wraps this one up. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Don't worry. I'll be back eventually with another story. Until then, catch you all on the flip side.

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