On the House
Summary: Tim gets more than he asked for on a stakeout at a coffee shop. Warning: references to spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them.
A/N: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. This one was inspired by a comment KlairI made about Further Investigation, pointing out an experience Tim hasn't had yet (I can't say more without spoiling the story) – my Muse decided to fix that!
Warning: this is part of a discipline series. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.
McGee carefully kept his face neutral and reached for his coffee cup, using it to block his mouth while he mumbled into the microphone secured under his collar.
'Yeah, Tony. It's nice and warm and dry in here. How about you? Having fun yet?'
Tony's response was painfully loud through the earwig. To Tim's relief, the stream of expletives was soon cut off by Gibbs.
'Hey, DiNozzo! Shut up! People are starting to stare.'
'Just trying to maintain my cover, Boss. I'm supposed to be a homeless guy rooting through the dumpster in an alley behind a coffee shop. People expect me to talk to myself!'
'Just keep it down, ok, Tony? I want to be able to hear what's going on, and I can't do that with you jamming up the radio complaining.'
'I'm not complaining, Boss. I just want to know why McGeek gets to hang out in the coffee shop and I get the garbage detail, is all. I mean...'
'A writer writing in a coffee shop isn't going to tip O'Leary off that we're watching him, DiNozzo. You sitting there...'
'What, you don't think I can pretend...'
'...to write? Gimme a laptop...'
'...and a cup of coffee and I can look as much like a writer hanging out in a coffee shop as McGee...'
'Stop talking, someone's heading towards McGee.'
'I mean, he isn't even really writing in there. He doesn't write on a laptop...'
'Oh, I didn't order...'
'...so, he's just pretending. So why can't I...'
'...anything else, just the...'
'DiNozzo, SHUT UP!'
Tony finally stopped babbling.
'You're, like, that writer, right? The one who wrote that book about the secret agents?'
'Special agents, yeah...'
'Well, Tiffany and me...'
Tim followed her glance towards the other barista.
'...we think it's really cool that you're, like, writing... you know... like here and everything, so we wanted you to have these... they're, like, the house specialty...'
Tim accepted the plate with a smile and a thank you. With a quick glance at the girl's nametag, he added a comment about possibly naming characters 'Erica' and 'Tiffany'. She giggled and blushed, finally retreating back to the coffee counter, where a line was starting to form. He could hear the high-pitched squeal when she relayed the news.
'What was that all about, McGee?'
'Just fans, I think, Boss. Brought me cookies.'
'And they look really good, too, Tony. They're chocolate, and it looks like they've got...'
Tim could hear the warning in Gibbs's growl but he couldn't help himself.
'nuts in them.'
There was a pause while he took a bite.
'Mmmmm. They are good...' he mumbled, his mouth still full.
Tim realised he'd pushed the teasing as far as he dared, and broke off the commentary. Instead, he chewed in silence, trying to place the unusual flavour that wasn't quite overpowered by the cocoa and walnuts. He took a sip from his coffee, swirling it in his mouth in an attempt to cleanse his palate, then took another bite of the cookie.
Nope, still can't identify it, he thought. But they're really good...