#tech troll

No rules to break.

Well…

Except one.

You stared at the screen in front of you, but the code blurred together, meaningless. Your hand rested unconsciously over your stomach, fingers pressing lightly like you could confirm it again just by touch.

You were pregnant.

And the father?

Special Agent Timothy McGee.

Your boyfriend.

Your secret boyfriend.

The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You had spent years being invisible in the basement—just another tech, another name in the system. And somehow, somewhere between late-night cases and shared coffee runs, you had become this.

Something real.

Something risky.

Something very, very against the rules.

“Hey.”

You jumped slightly at the voice, spinning in your chair.

There he was.

Timothy McGee, standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking a little sheepish—like he always did when he came down here just to see you.

He had grown into himself over the years—confident, capable, steady in a way that made people trust him without question.

But with you?

He still softened.

Still hesitated.

Still looked like the same guy who used to linger just a second too long after handing you coffee.

“Hey,” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice instinctively.

“You didn’t answer your texts,” he said. “I got worried.”

Your stomach twisted.

You hadn’t meant to ignore him. You just—

Didn’t know how to say this.

That was enough.

His expression shifted immediately, concern sharpening his features.

“What’s wrong?”

Your throat tightened.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell him.

Not here. Not like this. Not with fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and a dozen government systems blinking behind you.

But it was happening anyway.

“I… took a test,” you said quietly.

He blinked. “Okay…”

Your voice dropped to almost nothing.

“It was positive.”

Silence.

The kind that stretches just long enough to feel like everything might fall apart.

For a split second, your brain raced ahead—worst-case scenarios stacking up:

He panics.

He pulls away.

You lose him.

You lose everything.

Then—

McGee exhaled.

Not sharp. Not panicked.

Just… steady.

“Okay,” he said again, softer this time.

You searched his face desperately. “Okay?”

His lips twitched slightly, like he didn’t quite know what to do with the wave of emotion hitting him.

“I mean—it’s not exactly in the NCIS handbook,” he admitted, letting out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “But… we’ll figure it out.”

Your chest tightened.

“Together,” he added firmly.

And just like that—

The panic cracked.

Not gone.

But manageable.

“Tim…” you whispered.

His hand found yours, grounding, warm.

“We’ve handled worse,” he said softly. “Okay, maybe not this, but—” he smiled faintly “—we’re a pretty good team.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you said. “We are.”

Then reality hit again.

“Tim… Gibbs—”

That did it.

He froze.

Ah, yes.

Rule #12: Never date a coworker.

And you weren’t just coworkers—you were both NCIS.

And Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not take rule-breaking lightly.

McGee rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah… Gibbs.”

You both winced.

---

Three Days of Denial

You managed to keep it quiet.

For exactly three days.

Three days of pretending nothing had changed.

Three days of avoiding eye contact in the bullpen.

Three days of whispered conversations and stolen glances.

Three days of McGee bringing you snacks like that somehow solved everything.

“You need to eat,” he insisted one afternoon, placing a granola bar next to your keyboard.

“I am eating,” you muttered.

“That was coffee.”

“Coffee counts.”

“It does not count.”

You sighed—but you ate it anyway.

Because that’s how this worked.

Always had.

Small things.

Quiet care.

The kind no one noticed.

Until—

“Why are you smiling like that?”

You both froze.

Tony DiNozzo stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

McGee immediately stepped back.

“I’m not smiling,” he said too quickly.

Tony leaned forward.

“You are absolutely smiling.”

You turned back to your computer. “He does that sometimes.”

Tony pointed between you both.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but I will figure it out.”

“Please don’t,” McGee muttered.

Tony grinned.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to.”

---

The Abby Incident

It started, like most disasters at NCIS, with Abby Sciuto.

She came bouncing into the basement, arms full of Caf-Pow, already mid-sentence.

“Okay, so I ran the fibers and—”

She stopped.

Mid-step.

Stared at you.

Tilted her head.

“You’re glowing,” she said.

You froze.

“I’m always glowing,” you said weakly.

“Nope,” Abby said, narrowing her eyes. “This is different glowing. This is like—” she gasped dramatically “—life-changing glowing.”

Your heart dropped.

She stepped closer.

“Are you sick? Did you eat something weird? Is it radiation? Wait—”

You held your breath.

“—are you pregnant?!”

Silence.

Your silence.

Her gasp was deafening.

“Oh my God you are!”

“Abby—” you tried.

Too late.

Because right then—

Tony walked in.

“Hey Abs, I need—” He stopped. “Why are you vibrating?”

Abby spun toward him.

“She’s pregnant!”

You closed your eyes.

Tony blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then slowly—

A grin spread across his face.

“Well, well, well… McGeek’s been busy.”

“TONY!”

“Oh, come on,” he said, already backing away. “This is critical information. The team deserves to know.”

“Tony, don’t you dare—”

He was gone.

Of course he was.

---

Fallout (or… Not?)

It spread like wildfire.

By the time you made it upstairs, the entire bullpen knew.

You braced yourself.

Judgment.

Whispers.

Consequences.

Instead—

“You will be a strong mother,” Ziva said simply, giving you a firm nod.

Ducky beamed. “Ah, new life! A beautiful continuation.”

Jimmy looked like he might cry.

Abby hugged you so tightly you nearly lost your balance.

“I’m going to make the baby tiny goth outfits,” she announced.

“That’s… slightly terrifying,” you said.

“I’m doing it anyway.”

Your chest tightened.

This wasn’t what you expected.

This wasn’t what you were afraid of.

This was—

Support.

Then you looked at McGee.

He looked just as stunned as you felt.

But then—

Footsteps.

Heavy.

Measured.

Familiar.

The room went silent instantly.

Gibbs.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

McGee straightened beside you.

Gibbs stopped in front of you both.

His gaze flicked from you—

to McGee—

and back again.

Silence stretched.

Then—

“Is it his?” Gibbs asked bluntly.

You choked.

“Gibbs—!” McGee sputtered.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Another pause.

Longer.

Then Gibbs sighed.

Actually sighed.

“Well,” he muttered, “guess Rule 12’s been broken before.”

Your brain stalled.

Wait—what?

Gibbs turned to McGee.

“You gonna step up?”

McGee didn’t hesitate.

“Yes, sir.”

Gibbs held his gaze.

Then nodded once.

“Good.”

And just like that—

He walked away.

No explosion.

No lecture.

Just… acceptance.

Tony leaned over immediately.

“…Did Gibbs just approve your relationship?”

“Don’t say it like that,” McGee said.

“I’m absolutely saying it like that.”

---

Later

Back in the basement, the quiet returned.

Familiar.

Comforting.

You sat side by side, the chaos finally settling.

“I really thought we were dead,” you admitted.

McGee laughed softly. “Yeah… me too.”

You leaned into him slightly, your hand finding his.

“We’re okay, right?”

He squeezed your fingers, steady and sure.

“Yeah,” he said.

Then, softer—

“We’re more than okay.”

You rested your head briefly against his shoulder.

For the first time since you saw those two pink lines—

You let yourself breathe.

Because maybe—

Just maybe—

Breaking one rule…

Led you exactly where you were supposed to be.

And for once—