A/N: This is my entry in the NFA At Your Service Challenge. We were to take a poem by Robert Service and use it as inspiration for our story. As soon as I read it, I had to enter, using my personal fanon for Tim's family, i.e. Sam and Naomi McGee. If you're not familiar with Robert Service's poems, there's one called "The Cremation of Sam McGee". ...but there's no cremation in this story. :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, Robert Service's poetry or the briefly quoted lyrics from a couple of pop songs. I am not making any money off this story.

Strange Things Done
by Enthusiastic Fish

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Chapter 1

"So...you have a long weekend off and you're spending it with your dad?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Tim said. "It was his idea, and it's been a long time since we just...hung out together. It should be fun."

"You don't sound very convincing, Probie."

Tim grimaced.

"Where are you going?" Ziva asked.

"West Virginia. There's this company that rents out cabins in the middle of nowhere. No internet. No phones. No computers. Just you and the wilderness. ...well, almost. The cabins looked nice in the brochure my dad sent me. It's supposed to be a way to unplug and reconnect. Dad thought it would be a fun way to spend a weekend. How could I say no?"

"And if you're being honest?"

Tim sighed.

"It's going to be a little weird. Only a little, but it's not what I would have expected from my dad when he told me he wanted to spend some time with me."

"It's early in the year to be hanging out in the mountains, isn't it?"

"A little, but the cabins are heated. Thank goodness, and there hasn't been any snow for weeks."

"Not here," Ziva said, "but the mountains could be very different."

"It'll be fine. I'm not worried about the snow," Tim said.

"You'd be happy if there was a blizzard, wouldn't you, Probie," Tony said with a grin. "Then, you could use that as an excuse not to go."

"Yeah, I guess. Don't tell my dad when they get here."

"They're coming here?"

"Yeah. Mom is driving Dad down and I took my car in for some work to make sure it wasn't going to break down on the way over. Dad decided he wanted to see me in my element before he dragged me out of it. His words."

Ziva and Tony both laughed at Tim's obvious ambivalence but toned it down when Gibbs came striding in as he always did.

"Boss, I'm really going to be unreachable this weekend," Tim said. "I don't have any choice. Cell phones don't work out there. There's no internet. It's supposed to be a complete cutoff from the outside world."

"No sat phone, McGee?" Tony asked.

"No...but don't think I haven't considered smuggling one in." He looked back at Gibbs. "I'm sorry, Boss, but..."

"Where are you going to be?"

"West Virginia mountains. I have the brochure."

Gibbs held out his hand for it.

"Anyone else know where you'll be?"

"Yeah. My mom does. She has all the information and she wanted me to call her as soon as we headed back to civilization on Monday."

Gibbs looked at the brochure, looked at Tim...and then, smiled slightly.

"Have fun."

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said and then sat down to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Sam and Naomi McGee came into the bullpen at around six that evening. Tim saw them get off the elevator and got up quickly.

"Hey, Mom, Dad. Let's go."

"What's your hurry, McGee?" Tony asked with a mischievous grin. "Do you not want us talking to your family?"

Before Tim could hustle Sam and Naomi back to the elevator, Tony dodged around him.

"Hey, I'm Tony. I didn't think Tim was embarrassed about his parents." He shook hands with both of them.

"I'm not, Tony...not about them."

"Oh, wounded me to the core, Probie."

Tim rolled his eyes.

"Mom, Dad. This is Tony. That's Ziva. This is my boss, Jethro Gibbs."

Sam wheeled himself over to each person and shook hands.

"I'm Sam McGee, former Navy man turned lit professor extraordinaire!"

"...and Winston Churchill obsessed," Naomi added. "You can't forget that. I'm Naomi. Mother of two."

"And almost a lawyer who would have taken the mob to task if necessary," Sam added with a winning smile at his wife.

"Man, McGee. Your parents are fun. What happened to you?"

"I met you, Tony," Tim said. "Can we go now?"

"In a rush, Tim?" Sam asked. "Eager to get started?"

"I'm afraid you'll start telling embarrassing stories if I leave you here any longer."

"Hey, can I ask what might be an insensitive question?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Sam said.

"Are you planning on...camping?"

"Oh, you mean because I'm in a wheelchair?"

"Well, it's not my experience that the wilderness is wheelchair accessible."

Sam chuckled. "No, it's not. The cabin, however, is, and there should be plenty to do and see in the range that I can travel. If not...well, I'll just get Tim to drag me along."

"I'll remember that, Dad. Now, can we go?"

"Sure."

Tim looked at Gibbs.

"See you next week, Boss. I hope nothing breaks while I'm out of contact."

Naomi chuckled and took Tim by the arm.

"Come on, Tim. You'd think you weren't excited about unplugging from the world for a while."

Tim flushed slightly.

"It's not that, Mom."

He cleared his throat.

"Please, let's go," he said.

Sam laughed.

"Let's spare Tim any further embarrassment, Naomi. You know, Nietzsche said that 'one begins to mistrust very clever people when they become embarrassed.' We don't want our son to become untrustworthy to any of his coworkers."

"Thank you," Tim said. "See you guys next week."

"Have fun," Ziva said.

"He'll try," Sam said with a smile. "He might even succeed. ...but I'll have fun."

Tim grabbed the back of Sam's wheelchair and started pulling him to the elevator.

"We're going."

Sam waved as he was pulled backward away from the bullpen. Tim knew that his dad was enjoying himself and that he had wanted to meet Tim's coworkers. It was just that, sometimes, he would rather that his father not milk the situation so much.

They got on the elevator and headed down.

"They seem like good people, Tim."

"They are, Mom. I wouldn't have stayed here otherwise."

"Good. Are you ready for the weekend?"

"And if I wasn't?" Tim asked with a smile.

"I'd say that you'd better get ready because my deposit is nonrefundable," Sam said.

"I'm ready."

"Are you ready to drive?" Naomi asked. "It's a few hours out to that cabin, and it'll be dark by the time you get there."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I've driven long distances before."

"Stop worrying, Naomi," Sam said. "I'm in capable hands, and this will be a blast. Don't let yourself stress about it."

"You just be sure that you call as soon as you get back in civilization on Monday, all right? There's a possibility of some snow up there if it gets as cold as they're saying and I don't want you two to slide off the road or anything."

"Stop fussing, dear. You sound like the proverbial mother hen."

"That's what I am and it's my prerogative. You two be careful out there."

"I'll be careful and Dad will keep me awake."

"Good."

They headed out of NCIS to get Tim and Sam on their way.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim had been driving for about an hour and a half, letting Sam pick the music on the radio. Suddenly, he switched it to an 80s and 90s station.

"Dad, you're not listening to this stuff, are you?"

"What do you think?" Sam challenged.

"Come on! You're into classic literature and you're listening to this?"

Sam laughed. "You know these songs, too, Tim. Don't even try to deny it. In fact, I'm going to start singing along and you can feel free to join me. You couldn't have avoided hearing this song if you went out in public at all."

"Don't start singing, Dad," Tim groaned.

"I wanna stand with you on a mountain.
I wanna bathe with you in the sea."

"No! Please, stop!" Tim said in mock horror.

"Give in, Tim. Sing along!"

Tim would have closed his eyes, but he was driving.

"Soon enough we'll be in an area where we won't have any radio reception anyway. Might as well enjoy it while we can. Sing!"

The second verse began and Tim caved.

"And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky
I'll make a wish, send it to heaven and make you want to cry..."

Sam joined in and they sang out the cheesy love song. Tim would deny it in any other situation, but it was kind of fun.

"You know, I was just thinking, if there's a break in the trees, we can go stargazing," Sam said after the song ended.

"I haven't done that in a long time," Tim said. "If we're out far enough in the middle of nowhere, it should be perfect. ...if we can get away from the trees."

Sam smiled.

Another song came on and they sang along again. After about another thirty minutes, the radio started filling with static, and they gave up trying to get good reception. The radio went off.

"Can I ask you something, Dad?"

"Sure."

"Why did you want to do this? I mean, I really don't mind. It could be really fun...but...it seemed kind of...out of the blue and a little strange."

"A few reasons. First, you need a vacation and I don't think you'd have taken it without me forcing you to."

"I'm not under that much pressure."

"Yes, you are...and based on what you said, your entire team probably needs a vacation. Regardless, I can help you. Second, we haven't had a chance to spend time together for a long time. That's something we need to fix. Third, we both need to unplug...you more than me."

Tim couldn't deny that.

"And fourth..." He paused.

"No, Dad. There's no fourth. I know what you're going to say and it's not necessary. We're fine."

"So you don't have any lingering problems with the fact that I'm paralyzed and that it happened in an accident where you were driving?"

"I'm never going to be happy about it, Dad. I'll always regret it. ...but I'm not going to fall apart about it anymore."

"I just want you to stop thinking about how it happened and let it fall to the side. Quevedo said, 'he who spends time regretting the past loses the present and risks the future.' It's important to accept what happened and not keep dwelling on it."

"You're the one who brought it up, you know. Not me."

Sam chuckled.

"Point taken. It's something we've both been avoiding, though. And you know it."

"Well, now that we've talked about it and determined that it's okay...what else will we talk about this weekend?"

"I think we'll find something. For one thing, we can get down to a very nice lake that's near the cabin...and go fishing!"

Tim thought about it.

"I might be okay with that, Dad."

"Good. Just get us there, then."

Tim chuckled.

"All right. I'll do my best."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

As they neared their final destination, the road became narrower. The trees became thicker, and it was easy to feel like they were the only people in the world.

"Are you sure we're on the right road, Dad?"

"As sure as I can be, given that it's dark. There are trees everywhere...and I've never been here before."

Tim laughed, but he was starting to get tired. It was almost ten and he'd been up since before six that morning. He yawned.

"Don't fall asleep, Tim."

"I don't plan on it."

"Good."

The road was no longer paved.

"Dad. Are you sure this is where we should be?"

"Stop asking that, Tim. Be patient. We'll get there."

Ten minutes later, Sam was proven correct. The trees opened up slightly, revealing a small cabin.

"This is it!"

"It better be," Tim said. "Because if we're wrong, we could be walking in on someone."

"Have faith in your father, Tim."

"I'm working on it."

Tim parked the car by the door and noticed that there was a ramp. He put the key into the lock and turned it. It clicked. So they were in the right place. He opened the door and flicked on the light. There were two beds (thank goodness), a kitchen area, a large fireplace, and a door leading to a bathroom. Nothing amazing, but it looked livable for the weekend.

"Is it safe?" Sam asked. He'd got his wheelchair out and rolled over.

"Looks fine. Not luxurious by any means, but we don't have to share a bed...and our source of heat is a wood fireplace."

"Excellent. Is there wood or do we have to chop it ourselves?"

Tim scouted around the house and found a large wood pile. He got a load and lugged it inside. They got everything inside.

"It's kind of chilly in here, Tim," Sam said. "I think a fire would be nice tonight."

"Okay."

Sam being cold meant more than it meant for most people. His circulation wasn't very good and he could overheat or get too cold much more easily than others could. Once, he'd almost got frostbite on his feet just from being outside for too long and not being able to feel the colder air.

Starting the fire took a few tries, but they had a cheery flame going after a few minutes, and it was putting out a nice amount of heat. They got everything organized, figured out who got which bed (Sam got the one closest to the fire), took turns in bathroom, and then decided to go to bed.

The weekend was starting out well.