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"Tony?"
There was a sharpness to McGee's tone that would've made Tony jump to it if they'd been at work and McGee had been Gibbs. But they weren't at work, and McGee was McGee, so Tony just kept flipping through his mail, not the least bit nervous.
McGee emerged from Tony's bedroom with an odd look on his face, and, okay, maybe Tony was a little bit nervous. He pretended to be absorbed by the Sharper Image catalog.
Ooh, remote-controlled Ferrari.
McGee stopped right in front of him, so every time Tony's eyes skimmed over the top part of a page, he got another glance at McGee. Finally, Tony manned up, looked him right in the eye, and said, "Hey, they've got a robot dinosaur in here, McGee. It's like a pet, but you can hack into its programming when it decides it doesn't like you."
McGee snatched the catalog away, and Tony's hand flexed on thin air for a second. He was almost surprised he didn't have a paper cut. He raised his eyebrows at Tim and said, "Don't worry, I know better than to stand between a geek and his toys."
McGee tossed the catalog onto the dining room table, and Tony watched it flutter into a papery heap. Taking a sideways step, McGee blocked Tony's view, forcing Tony to look back up at him. "There's a second lock box in your nightstand."
Tony was a seasoned, highly trained federal agent. He didn't flinch in the face of danger--unless said danger was easily distracted by flinching, in which case he totally flinched, and then took a swing or made a break for it. But he didn't flinch in the face of ordinary danger.
Stalling for time, though, he was all over that. "You need something to drink, McGee?" Tony turned towards the kitchen, but McGee shot out an arm, hand against the wall, barring his way. Nice move, that one, cutting off Tony's strategic retreat. Well, except for the part where it was Tony's strategic retreat that got cut off.
"Tony," McGee said, voice low and serious.
Tony took a deep breath and said, "The second one's for you."
McGee kept staring at him--kid was getting good at the intimidating stare, Tony had to admit, though that didn't mean he had to admit it out loud--and so Tony kept talking. "Look, it's no big deal--I just didn't want to keep trying to jam both our guns into one box anymore." He paused. "Okay, that sounded very dirty."
More staring, though Tony was starting to revise his earlier assessment. Maybe it wasn't so much "intimidating" as "disbelieving." "You've already got a couple of clean shirts in the closet," Tony said, waving vaguely towards the bedroom. "And a toothbrush." He frowned. "Not that the toothbrush is in the closet. 'Cause it's not."
Still with the staring. Tony wasn't at all certain any more that he knew what it meant. "All right, I didn't mean to imply--"
Tim kissed him, hard, crowding him up against the wall, gripping Tony's shoulders. Tony kissed him back, working one hand through Tim's hair, mussing it down in the way Tony liked and Tim thought looked unprofessional.
But he did keep it long, so Tony didn't really object too much.
He tried to pull Tim in closer, but their holsters got in each other's way. Hazard of making out with a lefty. Tony leaned back for a second and said, a little out of breath, "The combination's the day after your birthday."
That got Tony yanked around and backed toward the bedroom, which he was absolutely in no way fighting. "I didn't think you knew my birthday," Tim said, but he was grinning in a really big way.
Wicked awesome.
Tim pushed him back against the bed, sliding Tony's holster off and then giving him a gentle shove. Tony let himself bounce on the mattress. "I just have one question," Tim said, locking Tony's gun up.
"Yeah?"
Tim locked his own up in the new box, and then gave him a suspicious look. "Why are there puffy heart stickers on mine?"
Because you've turned me into a teenage girl, Tony considered saying, but there was a good chance Tim would take that the wrong way, and Tony wasn't trying to cock-block himself. And most of the other answers he could give were even more... loaded.
Instead, Tony propped himself up on his elbows for full effect, and said, "I needed a way to tell them apart, and I was looking for something that reminded me of you. I went with those when I couldn't find any sparkly unicorns."
He sold it with a big, taunting smile.
Tim glared at him for a second and then rushed him, trying to pin him to the bed. Tony only pretended to fight back, laughing and holding on tight.