Characters: Tim McGee, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, plus the usual Torchwood and NCIS suspects
Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: After the events of Bloodbath, Tim McGee accepts a offer from a total stranger
Author's Note: A few weeks ago I was watching some NCIS episodes and came across Bloodbath. I hated both Abby and Gibbs in it. I hated the humiliation of making Tim kneel all day for something that was someone else's fault. I fumed for days (I am a bit obssessive about things from time to time). Then, a few days ago, this popped up. As usual, AU like nobody's business.
Part one here; Part two here; Part three here; Part four is here ; Part five is here; Part six is here
The Kass Brothers shop was a dingy little storefront in a dingy strip mall on the Virginia side of the Potomac. Tim slid the rental SUV into the space next to the blue NCIS sedan. Sitting next to him, Tish checked her gun. It still startled him to see how competent she was with it; four years before, when she had shown up at Jack's door, shivering and half-delirious with fever, he wouldn't have bet money on her survival, much less becoming a damn good agent.
Jack and Ianto were away at some sort of multi-agency meeting and had offered their guest room to Tim while his flat was being painted. He had been woken by hammering on the door. When he had opened it, gun in hand, she had nearly collapsed against him. He had managed to calm her down by wrapping her in Jack's bathrobe and tucking her into Jack and Ianto's bed. Then he had called Martha.
“We were in the same war but in different battlefields. Hers was harder than mine in many ways,” she had told him. “I can't take her to hospital. Would you take care of her until I make other arrangements?”
He had agreed. At first he had paid no attention to her babbling, but at some point in the night he had started to listen. And he had learned about the year that never was.
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