In the squad room, Ziva typed away, but eyed Tony as she did so. "Do you think that was McGee's mother that you saw upstairs with Gibbs?"

"I guess so. Ducky said Gibbs and the Director were to meet with her this morning." Tony barely got the whole sentence out; his mind was elsewhere; he was making no attempt to work.

Wonder if the McGees are gonna sue the agency?...I wish they'd let us see him, but the orders from Jenny herself are no, not unless invited, or until the family leaves.

- - - - -

"What I think, Mrs. McGee, is that you're actually encouraging Tim to engage in risky business! That's not what I usually expect to hear from a mother!"

"Of course I encourage him to take risks; isn't that what I've been saying?! Thought-out risks, preferably. I know you people must make fast decisions; I hope you've been teaching him to make good ones."

Gibbs felt himself starting to relax, finally. "We try. Tim is a little…"

"Impetuous? Reckless, at times? An unfortunate consequence of our urging, I'm afraid."

"But that behavior could get him killed! And needlessly!"

She sighed. "Yes. He doesn't talk to us in detail about the cases he works on for NCIS. But I'm not surprised to hear that he's like that...Tim was a shy boy, Gibbs. Some children just are. The risk-taking we grounded him in was a way of challenging him, of giving him confidence."

"That doesn't help if he winds up in a morgue!" Gibbs snapped, but immediately cursed himself. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. McGee. That was extremely tasteless of me, considering..."

She had paled a little, but quickly regained her composure. "No, you're right, Gibbs. And I would hope that you'd encourage him to make, er, better decisions than he sometimes does."

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair. "I try. Lord knows, I try."

She looked at her watch. "I told Tim I would be back to see him by 1:30. Care to come with me?"

All the acrimony seemed to be gone from her, and Gibbs had been longing for such an invitation. "Sure."

- - - - -

She smiled wryly as Gibbs pulled his car into the hospital parking garage and they walked into the hospital. The rain had slackened, but the very air was still heavy with humidity. "Eleanor Roosevelt said, Do one thing every day that scares you. I want Tim to be scared, a little, every day. I want him to work through this fear, and to triumph. I want him to take risks, and help others when he does. I want him to have the courage to make the world a better place.

"I was livid when I arrived at NCIS today. I came there expecting that NCIS would try to smooth over the house issue, or pass the buck, or even blame Tim for standing where he was when the ceiling collapsed. But none of those things happened. I am impressed, Gibbs; I truly am."

Gibbs smiled, but decided to change the subject. Too much praise weakens a man. "You said you left the Severe Storms Lab in the late 1980s. Where do you work now?"

"I'm with the National Weather Association. We live in North Dakota now; a little off the beaten path for the majority of tornadoes, but we get enough. Mostly, I study linear thunderstorms and tornadogenesis. I'm also part of a Quick Response Team that logs in destruction from fierce tornadoes..." She grinned. "I'll never stop loving storms."

"Do you still chase them?"

"Unauthorized? Oh, yes. Sometimes Kale comes along with me. I'll be driving, Kale will be commenting or reading a map, or else riding with his head out the window for a better view if we're not in rain yet; he's like an old hound dog that way. If Tim happens to be visiting, he'll often come, too. It's a thrill, a rush; like an amusement park ride."

"And your daily dose of doing something that scares you."

She grinned again. "I never thought of it like that, but you're probably right. It works for Kale, Tim, and me. Sarah's her own person, though." Then her tone softened again. "So much of our work these days has to be done with, and certainly logged on, computers. It's hard for me; it requires a lot of background knowledge I don't have; years I spent doing research, and raising two children in between. When Tim visits, I give him a laundry list of computer applications I need, and he either finds them for me or writes the code himself. He's so good with computers, and such a big help to me.

"Kale's also a meteorologist; but his field is physical meteorology, dealing with the study of the transfer of energy in the atmosphere, the formation of clouds, and so on. He's more theory; I'm more hands-on. We both would have loved dearly for Tim to go into the sciences...wouldn't have to have been meteorology...but his age group fell in love with computers. Ah, well; he's doing something he loves.

"I'm so glad he found NCIS, and you, Gibbs. You've helped broaden him. I hope you won't stop encouraging him..."

"...to take risks. Calculated ones, mostly. But risks. To do things that scare him? To the extent that he doesn't get himself killed or maimed, you've got a deal, Mrs. McGee. Tim's a good man. I'm very pleased to have him on my team."

She smiled, genuine warmth this time as she extended her hand. "Call me Cleo, please."

"Cleo. And I'm Jethro."

"Or 'Boss', as Tim says he calls you." She stopped, looked down before they entered Tim's room. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot at NCIS. I would have liked to have met his teammates...ah, Tony and Ziva?"

"I'll call them. They'll come right over," Gibbs offered, pulling out his phone at her eager nod. He pocketed the phone a moment later. "It normally takes about ten minutes to get here. So figure they'll be here in five."

She laughed and traced the pattern in the floor tile with one shoe. "I think there was another misunderstanding. We live far from Washington. We know Tim considers you and your team his second family. Kale and I do, too. You've done so much for Tim. Please...any time, don't feel shut out. NCIS will be welcome to visit Tim if he's hopitalized, whether we're here or not."

"Thank you." There was nothing more to say than that.

They entered Tim's room. Gibbs felt a twinge at seeing his young team member pale and bandaged in a thicket of tubes. But Tim roused at the sound of footsteps, and smiled at them. "Hi, Mom!... Boss! You came!"

"Well, yeah. You've gotta fill out a leave slip, McGee..." Gibbs pretended to search his pockets, while Tim laughed.

"How're you doing, honey?" Cleo asked her son, after kissing a non-bruised spot on his cheek.

But Tim's glance fell to the window, where sun beams were now meandering in. "Look, boss! Did you know my mom controls the weather? She's brought the sunshine!"

- The End -