A/N: This story needs some explanation. First, it's majorly AU. It is not taking place in the NCIS universe at all. I do take some elements from the show, but the way they are used is completely different. Only three characters from the series show up: Tim, Tony and Ron Sacks. A friend and I were talking about whether or not Tim and Tony could become friends if they hadn't been forced to associate with each other as coworkers first. It became a challenge to see if we could write a story that would do that when we put Tim and Tony in different situations. This is the story that resulted. It's long and still a case file of sorts but the situations are not the same at all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS characters I'm using. I'll claim my OCs but the characters are not mine and I'm not making money from this.

Slightly Cracked?
by Enthusiastic Fish

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked."
~ Bernard Meltzer

Chapter 1

Tim had been staring at his computer all day. He knew that because his alarm had gone off, telling him that it was five p.m. This paper had to get done, and he wasn't done yet. If he didn't finish it, he wouldn't be ready for the conference next week. If he wasn't ready for the conference next week, he'd look like an idiot. If he looked like an idiot, good-bye tenure. This had to be perfect. This time, no mistakes, no misplaced codes, no grammatical errors. Nothing that anyone could legitimately criticize. Illegitimate criticism was to be expected, but he could deal with that. It was when he actually made a mistake that he couldn't handle it.

But it was five p.m.

Still, what did he have to do if he went home? Nothing. He might as well keep working.

Except that he'd told himself he'd stop doing this.

But he had to get this done.

Maybe just a little break?

He leaned back in his chair and stretched. His posture was terrible when he was typing. For some reason, no matter what he did, he always ended up hunched over the keyboard like some bird of prey, guarding its next meal.

The thought made him grin as he pictured himself as a hawk or an eagle or something, ready to strike at anyone who came close to his beloved computer.

A knock at his office door made him turn around. Student or faculty? Neither was welcome at the moment.

But his paycheck depended on keeping both happy, no matter the time of day.

"Come in."

The door opened and he relaxed a little when he saw Lewis, one of the few people he counted as a friend on campus. And he wasn't even a computer guy. He was a historian.

"Hey, Tim. Not done yet?" Lewis asked.

"Almost."

"Have you looked anywhere but the screen today?"

"I'm pretty sure I ate something for lunch," Tim said. "Whenever that was."

"You weren't going to do that anymore."

"After I have tenure."

"You'll always find an excuse if you start that way."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Says the guy who already has tenure."

"It's Friday night. You have a week. You're almost done. Take a break."

"And do what?"

Now, Lewis got a wheedling expression on his face.

"I don't even want to know what you're going to suggest," Tim said. He turned back to his computer.

"Come to a party with me, Tim."

Tim turned around and laughed.

"I don't go to parties, Lewis."

"Don't you think it's time you started?"

"Nope."

"Come on, Tim. It's been over a year."

The eyebrow went up again. "Since when do you get to dictate how long I get?"

"I don't, but you promised yourself, not me. You said you weren't going to let yourself get holed up with a computer. You weren't going to let this become all your life is."

The eyebrow went up even higher.

"This isn't about altruism," Tim said. "I can tell. You don't want to go to this party, do you."

Lewis sat down on the hard, wooden chair Tim kept in his office to discourage long visits from students. If they had legitimate questions, he cleared off the comfy seat that was always piled with papers. If it was to argue about a grade, he let them sit on the hard one. They'd tried to get him to replace the old chair. It was from the early years of the university and he had argued that it was historic. When they had renovated his office, he had taken the old chair with him until they were done and put it back in afterward. He allowed for one comfy, padded seat, but he kept this one.

Lewis didn't deserve the comfy seat.

"I have to go and I'd like to have someone come along who can get me out of it early."

"I don't need to be there with you to do that. Use me as an excuse if you want."

Tim turned back to his computer again.

"No, they'll expect that. I need you to be there. Then, I can say that my friend doesn't like crowds and we're leaving early."

"Oh, great. So now, I'm just going to be your whipping boy, huh? Count me a hundred percent out."

"No, Tim. I wouldn't be announcing it to the whole room. Just...to my dean. Quietly. When I've been there long enough to show that I care about collegiality."

Tim turned around.

"Your dean is throwing a party and he invited you?"

"Yeah. My dean seems to think that people love spending time with him. Maybe outside of the university they do, but inside, well... Quite frankly, I get enough of him at school, but if I'm going to make full professor some day, I have to show up."

Tim sighed.

"When is this party?"

"It starts in three hours. You have time to go home, relax for a bit, eat some dinner..."

"How long will I have to be there?"

"No more than an hour."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die. By the way, did you know that the first recorded usage of that phrase showed up in 1908?" Lewis loved historical trivia.

"No." Tim sighed again. "All right. You're driving which means you can't drink and I'm leaving after an hour whether you come with me or not."

Lewis smiled. "Thanks a million."

"Thanks ten million with the exchange rate," Tim said, grimacing.

"Oh? What country are you in?"

"Somewhere wealthier than you, Mr. Historian."

"You and your microchips need people like me around and you love it. See you in three hours."

Lewis got up and left the office. Tim cracked his neck and stretched again. It was true that he had said that he wasn't going to let this become all his life was. It had never been what he wanted. That was why he had chosen to pursue a university position rather than pure research. But after last year... well, human interaction wasn't necessarily all it was cracked up to be.

But if he was going to do this, he needed to go home and get something to eat and prepare himself for a crowded, noisy evening. Not his favorite thing in the world. Not even in the best of times...which this most definitely wasn't.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Remind me again why I'm going to a party that I wasn't invited to?" Tony asked his partner.

"Because you need to get more of a feel for the important people in the area. This guy is a dean at the university, and he has a lot of important friends," Clark said.

"Okay. That only makes it sound more exclusive."

"Yeah, but I've been invited to be unofficial security and if I bring you along, you're unofficial security, too."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Is that really necessary?"

"Probably not, but it doesn't hurt. We don't interfere unless he asks us to or unless something goes really wrong."

"What qualifies as really wrong? Someone starts shooting?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, DiNozzo. Someone shooting would be really wrong. Are you sure you're qualified to be a detective?"

"Very funny. If I keep asking dumb questions, does that get me out of this?"

Clark grinned. "Nope. Just means more of them. Besides, you get paid for coming."

Tony smiled back. "There is that. Well, at least I have the clothes for it."

"Yeah. You're way too well-dressed to be a cop. What's with that?"

"You never get a second chance to make a good first impression," Tony recited.

"Oh, please. Come in and don't flirt with the guy's wife. He wouldn't appreciate it."

"Point her out to me and I'll make sure to avoid her, but I never flirt with married women."

"Nice to know that something holds you back."

They got out of the car and headed into the luxury hotel in downtown Baltimore.