Tim sat leaning on the bar trying to loose himself in the mellow jazz swirling around him, nursing a glass of Jack Daniels. If it was good enough for Gibbs' pain it should be good enough for his.

Tim swallowed and coughed. Damn it was strong. He wasn't much of a drinker but right now this was the only place he wanted to be. Alone surrounded by people. Much better than being alone in his apartment where he was alone, alone. And infinitely much better than being with people who were trying to nurse their own pain and being polite to him at the same time.

Funerals were so depressing. They weren't meant to be joyous occasions obviously but this one just seemed particularly sad. Jenny Sheppard seemed so full of life and passion and yet even she could only fight off one demon at a time. There was some whispered talk that she had been sick and that she chose to go down quick and fighting rather than through a drawn out painful illness.

Tim sighed and threw back the rest of the drink. It didn't taste quite so strong this time.

His thoughts swirled down into the melancholy abyss. Would he do it? Could he do it? Choose to die alone in the desert, bleeding out, his body riddled with bullets rather than in a hospital bed on a cloud of morphine surrounded by loving friends?

Would he be strong enough to choose his end? When his final days were upon him would he even know or would it be like it was with Kate? A split second, mid sentence swift bullet to the brain. Gone. No more Mr Nice McGee. Poor stupid Probie. All gone and only Ducky's cold slab to look forward to.

And Palmers hands squishing through his innards.

Black thoughts entertained his already heightened fancy and he allowed himself to wallow in it as he worked his way through another glass of the fiery liquor. Death was so final. THE END. Full stop.

Perhaps he should stop drinking soon.

A woman hoped up onto the empty stool next to him and he almost by reflex smiled at her before turning back to his slightly fuzzy musings on his own impending death.

Pretty. Long dark hair. Bright blue eyes.

"Can I have sex on the beach please?"

Tim turned startled and looked at her 'I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The woman turned from where she was signaling the bartender "Oh I said Sex on the Beach. It's a shooter. Very nice. You should try one" She signaled to the bartender to make it two and Tim suddenly found a full shooter glass slid in front of him.

Did a woman just buy him a drink?

"uhhh Thanks" Tim who on further detailed study found his glass of Jack Daniels was empty again picked up the tiny glass while the woman smiled encouragingly at him. She lifted her own glass, clinked it against the side of his and threw it back in one swallow.

Tim decided to give the drink a chance as it seemed rude to refuse after she had already paid for it and tossed it down. Not bad.

"So what did you think?' the woman leaned in a little to speak to him over the growing noise of the crowd.

Tim smiled "Quiet nice really"

"You've never had one before? Not even a Squashed Frog, a Mudslide or a C.S.C?"

"A what?"

"A C.S.C. A Cock Sucking Cowboy?"

Tim frowned. She surely didn't say what he thought she had said, did she?

The woman laughed at his look. "I'll take that as a no. Would you like to try one with me?'

Tim shrugged. Surely his contemplation of his impending gruesome violent painful death could wait a moment. "All right but I'll buy these ones." He turned to the bartender "I'll have two…"

"C.S.C's "the woman finished for him as he struggled to come up with some appropriate alternative to shout out at the bartender.

A second shooter appeared in front of him and as each of them picked up their glass she clinked hers with his.

"What should we toast to?'

Tim considered his dark and depressing thoughts of a few minutes ago which were still hovering just beyond his field of vision.

"New Beginnings"

"Perfect. To New Beginnings"

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Rebecca Wylde (That's Wild with a Y and an E) smiled up at him leaning even closer as the crowd started to close in on their space.

"So Cowboy, what was with the new beginnings bit?"

Tim shrugged "I attended a funeral earlier today and I was sitting here depressing myself and I wanted to ….well remind myself that every end is a new beginning. My life is far from over ……….even if it feels like it is at the moment"

Rebecca nodded sagely "You got that right. I'm new to Washington. Moved over from San Diego. Seemed a good idea at the time. Big promotion at work. New place. But then tonight I was looking around at my pile of boxes wondering just why I thought it was a good idea to leave all my family and friends and a job I knew I was good at to come somewhere I have to start completely over. What if I can't do this new job well enough or everybody hates me?"

Tim threw back his Squashed Frog nodding in agreement. "I have to start a new job Monday. All my friends are being moved and god knows when I'll next get to see some of them. Everything's changed. I'll probably have to start over again as the new guy."

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((99

Tim the Cowboy carefully stacked the growing number of shot glasses into a pyramid in front of him.

"Ta Da"

Rebecca clapped his accomplishment and glared at the bartender who attempted to clear them away.

"You are so clever Tim. They are going to just love you at your new place. I'm sure you will be running it in no time." She patted his back comfortingly and then slipped an arm around his shoulders to help prop herself up against his solid warmness.

Tim nodded primly as he slouched against the bar.

"And you shouldn't worry either Becky. You're a really nice person. I'm sure once they get to know you they will ALL like you. And you will be totally great at your job and in a couple of months you will look back and say this move was the best thing you have ever done."

Beck of the Wild nodded happily and ordered another round of Slippery Nipples.

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

"So Timmy, have we tried Hard Up Against The Wall yet?" Becky squinted at the long and bleary shooter menu written up behind the bar in chalk, her hand hot on Tim's firm thigh.

"Not with you I haven't!" And Tim laughed at his own cleverness while Rebecca grinned sultry eyed back at him.

Becky leaned in (damn he smelt good) and whispered huskily in his ear, licking her lips.

"How would you feel about a Flaming Orgasm then, Cowboy?"

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

They quite literally fell out the cab and stumbled into Tim's apartment building. Becky's place was still in boxes and besides Tim's place was closer.

Kissing . Tim loved kissing. Soft and deep and wet and Becky was good at it. His hands were holding her close.
Apartment. Step. Keys.
Buttons, buttons. She was rapidly squirreling away at his shirt with her small warm hands. Constant motion. Faster.
Backwards. Walking. Apartment. Get keys.
Her hands in his hair. His hand up her shirt. Soft.
Women always made the most delicious sounds. Little moans and gasps.
Omphhhhh
They slammed up against the wall. What was he supposed to be doing?
Kissing.
Oh Yeah. Love kissing.
No Keys!
He needed to find his keys. He tried to direct his hands attention to his trouser pockets but Becky seemed to get there first.
Oh Yeah! Little to the right.
Keeping moving. Apartment end of hallway.
So Far!
Another button. Dropped something. Doesn't matter.
Kissing.
Tongues. Hot and wet.
Need air. More kissing.
So soft. Curves. Kissing his neck. She tasted so good.
His hands round her tight ass holding her so close to him he could feel every wriggle and whimper. Nuzzling her….
KEYS! He really, really needed to find the keys
Her hands at his belt. Quick movements
His hands in her hair. Clenching. Licking down….
Her hands where…. Oh YEAH!
WHERE WERE HIS FUCKING KEYS!

Finally they made it into his apartment. Tim kicked the front door shut as his hands were happily occupied. Tim leaned down and for purely logical reasons (He wanted to both get near her and into his bedroom as quickly as possible) picked her up while she wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to his bedroom.

Becky shrieked with excitement as he gently tossed her onto his bed following her a split second later.

Oh Yeah. Ride em Cowboy!

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Tim stepped out of the elevator on Monday his mind still preoccupied with the note he woke up to late on the Sunday.

Hey Tim
Thanks for a great night and morning and mid morning!
I would like to see you again and if you would too then call me.
555 8369.
Have to go. New job tomorrow and haven't even started unpacking.

Becky

I mean did she really mean call? Or was she just being polite? She did sort of sneak out of his place. Was she embarrassed? He certainly was. One night stands weren't something he was all that good at. Then again they were both hung over and he certainly had been exhausted. In a good way. Maybe she just wanted to let him sleep? And she did have to unpack…

"Agent McGee?" Director Vance called him and Tim froze for a second before turning to face him and the woman standing next to him.

"I would like to introduce you to the new Head of Operation's for the Cyber Crimes Unit. Rebecca Wylde. Just been promoted up from the San Diego Office. I hope you'll make her welcome."

(

(By the way these are names of actual shooters, so no credit to my imagination there.)