The New Probie (an NCIS Fanfiction)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

‘Why are you riding a motorcycle, Elizabeth?! You of all people should realise that they’re death traps!’ Tim started getting annoyed, and I knew I’d have to explain to him.

‘Tim, that bike is the last thing my dad was going to give me, I wasn’t just going to leave it in my mum’s garage. Yes, I’m terrified of riding it, but somehow it calms me down and reminds me of him,’ I explained.

Tim sighed, and I knew that meant he understood what I meant.

Then he frowned as if he was thinking about something.

‘Earlier, in the bullpen, when Tony called you Zabby, you were so adamant he wasn’t going to call you that, like you hated that name, why?’ Timmy asked me.

I didn’t want to talk about it, about him, so I stayed quiet.

But Tim wasn’t going to give up that easily.

‘Hey, I thought we told each other everything? And if you don’t want to be called Zabby,’ I cringed at the name. ‘I’m going to call you something else, because Elizabeth is a bit of a mouthful, and I’ll tell the others, okay?’

I nodded, that sounded okay.

‘What else would you like to be called then?’ he asked me.

‘Um, how about Lizzie?’ I replied after a while. ‘That was what Kadyn called me.’ I said smiling, I missed my big sister so much.

‘Okay then, I’ll tell Tony and the others,’ Tim smiled at me as we pulled into the car park of his apartment complex.

It was only then I realised I forgot something.

‘Oh damn, I have no pyjamas or hair brush or tooth brush or anything,’ I said tiredly.

All I wanted to do was get into bed and sleep.

‘Its fine, whenever Sarah comes over, she always forgets something, so I have invested in a few things you could use,’ Tim said, but it was short lived, because when we got into his apartment, after I marvelled at his computers and his vinyl records, we found that the last time Sarah had stayed, she took all the clothes home with her.

‘It’s fine, Lizzie, I’ve got a sweatshirt you can have,’ Tim assured me, walking into his bedroom.

‘Really Timmy? Dinosaur cereal?!’ I said, picking up the packet on the kitchen counter.

‘I like how it tastes, okay?’ he said, with a pained expression as he handed me a grey shirt with MIT written in black letters and black sweats.

‘You went to MIT? Timmy that’s amazing!’ I said.