[NCIS] Tony DiNozzo, Winter
Title: Winter
Fandom: Navy: NCIS
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto, Ziva David, Tim McGee, Ducky Mallard
Prompt: Winter
Word Count: 2045
Rating: G
Summary: “Okay. Now. Wanna tell me why everyone’s being so nice today? It’s really starting to freak me out.”
McGee found Tony standing in front of his desk, eyes trained on a small pile of black material.
“Uh, Tony?”
Tony flicked him a surprised glance, his distraction obvious. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
Tony pointed. “See those gloves? Can you pick them up for me?”
McGee blinked. “Um, okay.” He said uncertainly, shooting Tony a strange look. He moved forward cautiously, still unsure, and grabbed the gloves, tossing them to Tony unceremoniously.
Tony caught them with one-hand then stuffed them into his pocket hurriedly, inspecting his hand carefully.
“Tony? Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the gloves out again and tossed them up into the air, snatching them back easily. “I caught Ziva putting them there and, well, I’m kinda paranoid since that itching powder thing.”
McGee looked horrified. “So you used me as a scapegoat?”
“Well, yeah.” Tony’s expression was one of exaggerated ‘duh’.
McGee’s chest heaved with the effort of his sigh. “Why would Ziva give you gloves?”
“No idea.” Tony shrugged. “But she didn’t want me to know about it, anyway.”
“That’s…weird.”
“Which is clearly so unlike Ziva.” Tony shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.
With a roll of his eyes, McGee shook his head. “It’s not like-“
“Not like what, McGee?” Both Tony and McGee jumped as Gibbs’ voice rang out and the man himself came striding between them.
“Um.” McGee paused as Tony shook his head at him warningly. “He floundered for an excuse. “Not like Tony to be here first?”
Gibbs glared at him briefly, and then slammed himself into his chair, snorting even as he ignored the other two men.
Exchanging one last look, Tony and McGee promptly scurried into their own sections of the bullpen.
Tony grabbed his kit out of the trunk, swinging it down smoothly. He set the metal case on the ground, the bottom sinking into the soft, fresh snow.
“I love snow,” He said gleefully, rubbing his gloved hands together.
“Get a move on or you’ll be covered in it,” Gibbs snapped. “DiNozzo, photographs and tags. McGee, sketch and laser. Ziva, perimeter.” He himself strode off, already dirty snow crunching under his feet.
Tony grinned at McGee as Ziva set off at a trot, throwing one last look back over her shoulder. “Looks like it’s you and me, amigo.”
McGee tentatively smiled back, the expression sliding off his face when Tony raised the camera, shooting three straight shots of McGee in quick succession, the bright flashes making the younger agent’s eyes water.
“Oh look,” Tony said cheerfully. “The camera works.”
Rolling his eyes, McGee sighed and pulled out the sketch pad, moving his pencil across the page deftly, capturing the body on the paper briefly before moving on to the surrounding area.
For a while, they worked in silence, the only sounds that of the steady clicking if the camera and the slight scratching of a pencil across paper.
Tony lowered the camera, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “You know, this reminds me of a movie.”
McGee flipped the sketchbook closed, slipping it into his bag before returning his attention to Tony. “Which one?”
A large smile spread over Tony’s face. “Harry Potter. You know, the snow? I can almost see Hedwig flying out over us.”
McGee shook his head and ignored him, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck. “Where’s Ducky?”
Tony shrugged. “Autopsy Gremlin probably got them lost again.” He grinned lasciviously. “So, Palmer and Lee. Talk about weird. I found leopard spot panties in Autopsy the other day.”
The expression on McGee’s face was a mix of disgust and envy. He grimaced. “What did you do with them?”
Tony frowned and knelt in the snow to take a closer look at a spot of blood on the snow in front of him. “I gave them back,” He said absently. “McGee, look at this. Blood spatter. But it doesn’t belong to the vic.”
McGee blinked. “And it’s the wrong direction.”
Tony shrugged easily. “Maybe it’s out killer.” He snapped a photo and rose to his feet, the bottom half of his legs completely soaked through.
Biting his lip worriedly, McGee shot Tony a concerned look when the other man started shivering almost imperceptibly. “You okay?”
Tony cast McGee an amused look. “Just peachy.”
McGee watched him a minute longer as Tony turned back to his work, the senior agent moving to greet Ducky as the irate doctor finally arrived, a shame-faced Palmer in his wake.
Every minute longer they stayed out there, Tony’s shakes got worse and McGee could tell by the rigid way he held his jaw that the Italian man was fighting against chattering teeth.
Ducky peered up at Tony. “Anthony, your lips are turning purple. It would be prudent of you to wait in the van, my dear boy. Wouldn’t want any relapses.”
“Don’t worry about it, Duck,” Tony waved off his concerns with a flamboyant gesture. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, well,” Ducky pursed his lips disapprovingly. “That’s what Jethro said after he got shot. In the gut.”
“And look at him now,” Tony chirped.
Ducky frowned. “As admirable a man as Jethro is, is he really the man you would like to emulate?”
Tony shivered again but stubbornly held his ground. “Ducky, I’m fine, okay?”
McGee watched the exchange while pulling out a black scarf from his pocket, relieved when the awkward lump of material left his jacket. He threw it at Tony’s head, belatedly warning him, and frowned enviously when Tony turned and easily grabbed them out of the air.
“McGee?” Tony questioned.
McGee adjusted his own scarf fastidiously. “I always carry an extra scarf. You can have mine.” When Tony just stared at him, McGee’s frown deepened, etching lines into his face. “What? I’m susceptible to the cold,” He defended.
Tony’s grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He waited til McGee rolled his eyes and turned away before quietly adding, “Thanks.”
McGee flushed when ducky smiled at him approvingly and bent to pick up an evidence bag, missing Tony’s curious glance and his whispered, “Matches my gloves,”
Tony stepped back into the warmth of the office gratefully, his shoulders relaxing minutely. He cracked his neck, smirking at Ziva’s grimace.
“Tony, that’s disgusting,” She complained, her nose wrinkling.
Tony grinned brightly. “Not as gross as when you snore, Zee-vah.”
Rolling her eyes, Ziva shouldered past Tony, slamming her pack down on her desk with a little more force than necessary.
Abby chose that moment to bound up to them, flicking a rubber band onto Ziva’s desk expertly. “Methinks anger management is a must, Ziva. Maybe the rubber band will help,” she chirped. She turned to Tony expectantly. “Bring me back any goodies?”
“It’s snowing out, Abby. Footprints galore.”
Abby rubbed her hands together gleefully and leant over to kiss Tony on the cheek.
Tony pulled away and sneezed once, twice, and again.
Abby’s eyes widened and she backed away, staring at Tony. “I’ll be right back,” She promised, and disappeared into the well-timed elevator.
Tony turned to Ziva. “What was that about?” He asked.
Slim shoulders rose up and down in a shrug. “It’s Abby,” Ziva said plainly. “I have no idea.”
“Hmmm.” Tony’s mouth twisted to one side in confusion before he shrugged ad powered up the computer. He brought up the file on Midshipman Allowan and scanned through it briefly, frowning at a small discrepancy. Engrossed in his task, he barely looked up when first McGee then Gibbs came in, glued to the computer until a plastic bag filled with clanking goodies fell onto his desk.
He looked up to see a beaming Abby. “Um, hey,” He said warily, eying the bag with caution. He mentally scanned over the last few days’ actions, trying to remember if he’d pissed her off somehow.
“Hey!” Abby smiled so brightly it almost hurt and hefted the bag in her hands, lifting out each item and lining them carefully on his desk. She pulled out a giant box of tissues-with-aloe-vera, a bottle of liquid cold medicine, aspirin and blue Gatorade. “Colds suck.” She announced firmly.
Tony stared at her. “Uh. Thank you.” He said slowly and carefully, as if not to scare a child.
“You’re welcome.” Abby smiled affectionately at Tony and wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug before skipping back off to her lair.
Tony looked up at the others, still blinking slowly as they stared at him in amusement. “What just happened?”
Gibbs’ lips twitched. “That was Abby caring.”
As always, when Gibbs’ phone rang, everyone sat up straight and payed attention. Gibbs answered, gave one-word answers and scrawled an address onto a piece of torn paper. He hung up abruptly and turned to the team. “McGee, get the car. We’ve got new intel. DiNozzo, I want a full profile on Allowan and his roommate, Midshipman Granton. He’s confessed to something, not sure what. And see if Duck’s got the autopsy report yet.”
“But Boss-“ He whined.
Gibbs fixed Tony with a firm stare. “If you want to go out into the ice, then go ahead.”
Tony’s mouth snapped shut audibly. “Well, I couldn’t possibly go against your orders, could I, Boss?” he said sweetly, smirking at Ziva.
Gibbs snorted and his hand twitched towards Tony, the younger man automatically jerking away. Smirking, Gibbs turned sharply on his heel, preceding Ziva and McGee to the elevator.
Tony, left behind, stared after them with a bemused expression, returning McGee’s wave and Ziva’s smile. “This place just gets weirder and weirder,” He said to himself, stretching back in his seat precariously.
Ducky smiled when Tony knocked jauntily on the door, sauntering in easily. “Ah, Anthony, always a pleasure,” He said warmly, rinsing his hands off a final time before turning off the taps firmly. “Care for a spot of tea, my dear boy?”
Tony grinned, face lighting up in glee. “Do you have any of those little shortbread biscuit things?”
“Certainly.” Ducky waved Tony into his office politely, fussing with a canister of tea and a tin of biscuits until they were spread out onto a tray to his liking. “How are you this afternoon?”
“Ah, you know. Same old, same old. And you, Duck?”
Ducky smiled, passing Tony a cup of black tea, setting out milk and sugar where he could easily reach them, watching as Tony doctored the bitter tea with copious amounts of milk and sugar. “Quite a slow day, all things considering. In this weather, most people tend to curl up at home with a good book.”
“Or a good movie,” Tony interjected.
“Or a good film,” Duck allowed, “with a cup of coffee or hot cocoa or a good tumbler of whiskey. And speaking of which,” He stood up awkwardly, resting his hand on Tony’s shoulder briefly for balance as he leaned over, fishing in the bottom drawer of his desk for something. He emerged triumphant, clasping a thermos container in one hand. He presented it to Tony ceremoniously.
“Aw, Duck, you shouldn’t have,” Tony teased, and pried open the lid, a rapturous expression sliding onto his face at the heady scent of chocolate. “Oh my god, Ducky, hot chocolate? I love you.”
“Yes, well, I though you’d appreciate it,” Ducky said affectionately, flustered by the teasing declaration that nevertheless rang true.
Tony smiled and set it down carefully. “Okay. Now. Wanna tell me why everyone’s being so nice today? It’s really starting to freak me out.”
Ducky looked at him seriously. “You were suffering from the plague not too long ago, Anthony, and however strong you think you’re immune system is, if you contract a cold it could have dire consequences. We are all aware of this. And especially now, with the temperatures so low, we’re all concerned for you.”
Tony’s expression softened. “So everything was so I don’t get sick again?”
“Precisely.” Ducky sat down again and gestured for Tony to finish his tea. “Perhaps we should hurry. It wouldn’t do for Jethro to find you down here,” He said, chuckling when Tony downed his tea in two long mouthfuls.
When Gibbs, McGee and Ziva traipsed in, wet and cold, thee were cups of good quality, steaming coffee on their desks, next to giant chocolate bars. It was the best kind of thank you.
Fandom: Navy: NCIS
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto, Ziva David, Tim McGee, Ducky Mallard
Prompt: Winter
Word Count: 2045
Rating: G
Summary: “Okay. Now. Wanna tell me why everyone’s being so nice today? It’s really starting to freak me out.”
McGee found Tony standing in front of his desk, eyes trained on a small pile of black material.
“Uh, Tony?”
Tony flicked him a surprised glance, his distraction obvious. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
Tony pointed. “See those gloves? Can you pick them up for me?”
McGee blinked. “Um, okay.” He said uncertainly, shooting Tony a strange look. He moved forward cautiously, still unsure, and grabbed the gloves, tossing them to Tony unceremoniously.
Tony caught them with one-hand then stuffed them into his pocket hurriedly, inspecting his hand carefully.
“Tony? Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the gloves out again and tossed them up into the air, snatching them back easily. “I caught Ziva putting them there and, well, I’m kinda paranoid since that itching powder thing.”
McGee looked horrified. “So you used me as a scapegoat?”
“Well, yeah.” Tony’s expression was one of exaggerated ‘duh’.
McGee’s chest heaved with the effort of his sigh. “Why would Ziva give you gloves?”
“No idea.” Tony shrugged. “But she didn’t want me to know about it, anyway.”
“That’s…weird.”
“Which is clearly so unlike Ziva.” Tony shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.
With a roll of his eyes, McGee shook his head. “It’s not like-“
“Not like what, McGee?” Both Tony and McGee jumped as Gibbs’ voice rang out and the man himself came striding between them.
“Um.” McGee paused as Tony shook his head at him warningly. “He floundered for an excuse. “Not like Tony to be here first?”
Gibbs glared at him briefly, and then slammed himself into his chair, snorting even as he ignored the other two men.
Exchanging one last look, Tony and McGee promptly scurried into their own sections of the bullpen.
Tony grabbed his kit out of the trunk, swinging it down smoothly. He set the metal case on the ground, the bottom sinking into the soft, fresh snow.
“I love snow,” He said gleefully, rubbing his gloved hands together.
“Get a move on or you’ll be covered in it,” Gibbs snapped. “DiNozzo, photographs and tags. McGee, sketch and laser. Ziva, perimeter.” He himself strode off, already dirty snow crunching under his feet.
Tony grinned at McGee as Ziva set off at a trot, throwing one last look back over her shoulder. “Looks like it’s you and me, amigo.”
McGee tentatively smiled back, the expression sliding off his face when Tony raised the camera, shooting three straight shots of McGee in quick succession, the bright flashes making the younger agent’s eyes water.
“Oh look,” Tony said cheerfully. “The camera works.”
Rolling his eyes, McGee sighed and pulled out the sketch pad, moving his pencil across the page deftly, capturing the body on the paper briefly before moving on to the surrounding area.
For a while, they worked in silence, the only sounds that of the steady clicking if the camera and the slight scratching of a pencil across paper.
Tony lowered the camera, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “You know, this reminds me of a movie.”
McGee flipped the sketchbook closed, slipping it into his bag before returning his attention to Tony. “Which one?”
A large smile spread over Tony’s face. “Harry Potter. You know, the snow? I can almost see Hedwig flying out over us.”
McGee shook his head and ignored him, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck. “Where’s Ducky?”
Tony shrugged. “Autopsy Gremlin probably got them lost again.” He grinned lasciviously. “So, Palmer and Lee. Talk about weird. I found leopard spot panties in Autopsy the other day.”
The expression on McGee’s face was a mix of disgust and envy. He grimaced. “What did you do with them?”
Tony frowned and knelt in the snow to take a closer look at a spot of blood on the snow in front of him. “I gave them back,” He said absently. “McGee, look at this. Blood spatter. But it doesn’t belong to the vic.”
McGee blinked. “And it’s the wrong direction.”
Tony shrugged easily. “Maybe it’s out killer.” He snapped a photo and rose to his feet, the bottom half of his legs completely soaked through.
Biting his lip worriedly, McGee shot Tony a concerned look when the other man started shivering almost imperceptibly. “You okay?”
Tony cast McGee an amused look. “Just peachy.”
McGee watched him a minute longer as Tony turned back to his work, the senior agent moving to greet Ducky as the irate doctor finally arrived, a shame-faced Palmer in his wake.
Every minute longer they stayed out there, Tony’s shakes got worse and McGee could tell by the rigid way he held his jaw that the Italian man was fighting against chattering teeth.
Ducky peered up at Tony. “Anthony, your lips are turning purple. It would be prudent of you to wait in the van, my dear boy. Wouldn’t want any relapses.”
“Don’t worry about it, Duck,” Tony waved off his concerns with a flamboyant gesture. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, well,” Ducky pursed his lips disapprovingly. “That’s what Jethro said after he got shot. In the gut.”
“And look at him now,” Tony chirped.
Ducky frowned. “As admirable a man as Jethro is, is he really the man you would like to emulate?”
Tony shivered again but stubbornly held his ground. “Ducky, I’m fine, okay?”
McGee watched the exchange while pulling out a black scarf from his pocket, relieved when the awkward lump of material left his jacket. He threw it at Tony’s head, belatedly warning him, and frowned enviously when Tony turned and easily grabbed them out of the air.
“McGee?” Tony questioned.
McGee adjusted his own scarf fastidiously. “I always carry an extra scarf. You can have mine.” When Tony just stared at him, McGee’s frown deepened, etching lines into his face. “What? I’m susceptible to the cold,” He defended.
Tony’s grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He waited til McGee rolled his eyes and turned away before quietly adding, “Thanks.”
McGee flushed when ducky smiled at him approvingly and bent to pick up an evidence bag, missing Tony’s curious glance and his whispered, “Matches my gloves,”
Tony stepped back into the warmth of the office gratefully, his shoulders relaxing minutely. He cracked his neck, smirking at Ziva’s grimace.
“Tony, that’s disgusting,” She complained, her nose wrinkling.
Tony grinned brightly. “Not as gross as when you snore, Zee-vah.”
Rolling her eyes, Ziva shouldered past Tony, slamming her pack down on her desk with a little more force than necessary.
Abby chose that moment to bound up to them, flicking a rubber band onto Ziva’s desk expertly. “Methinks anger management is a must, Ziva. Maybe the rubber band will help,” she chirped. She turned to Tony expectantly. “Bring me back any goodies?”
“It’s snowing out, Abby. Footprints galore.”
Abby rubbed her hands together gleefully and leant over to kiss Tony on the cheek.
Tony pulled away and sneezed once, twice, and again.
Abby’s eyes widened and she backed away, staring at Tony. “I’ll be right back,” She promised, and disappeared into the well-timed elevator.
Tony turned to Ziva. “What was that about?” He asked.
Slim shoulders rose up and down in a shrug. “It’s Abby,” Ziva said plainly. “I have no idea.”
“Hmmm.” Tony’s mouth twisted to one side in confusion before he shrugged ad powered up the computer. He brought up the file on Midshipman Allowan and scanned through it briefly, frowning at a small discrepancy. Engrossed in his task, he barely looked up when first McGee then Gibbs came in, glued to the computer until a plastic bag filled with clanking goodies fell onto his desk.
He looked up to see a beaming Abby. “Um, hey,” He said warily, eying the bag with caution. He mentally scanned over the last few days’ actions, trying to remember if he’d pissed her off somehow.
“Hey!” Abby smiled so brightly it almost hurt and hefted the bag in her hands, lifting out each item and lining them carefully on his desk. She pulled out a giant box of tissues-with-aloe-vera, a bottle of liquid cold medicine, aspirin and blue Gatorade. “Colds suck.” She announced firmly.
Tony stared at her. “Uh. Thank you.” He said slowly and carefully, as if not to scare a child.
“You’re welcome.” Abby smiled affectionately at Tony and wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug before skipping back off to her lair.
Tony looked up at the others, still blinking slowly as they stared at him in amusement. “What just happened?”
Gibbs’ lips twitched. “That was Abby caring.”
As always, when Gibbs’ phone rang, everyone sat up straight and payed attention. Gibbs answered, gave one-word answers and scrawled an address onto a piece of torn paper. He hung up abruptly and turned to the team. “McGee, get the car. We’ve got new intel. DiNozzo, I want a full profile on Allowan and his roommate, Midshipman Granton. He’s confessed to something, not sure what. And see if Duck’s got the autopsy report yet.”
“But Boss-“ He whined.
Gibbs fixed Tony with a firm stare. “If you want to go out into the ice, then go ahead.”
Tony’s mouth snapped shut audibly. “Well, I couldn’t possibly go against your orders, could I, Boss?” he said sweetly, smirking at Ziva.
Gibbs snorted and his hand twitched towards Tony, the younger man automatically jerking away. Smirking, Gibbs turned sharply on his heel, preceding Ziva and McGee to the elevator.
Tony, left behind, stared after them with a bemused expression, returning McGee’s wave and Ziva’s smile. “This place just gets weirder and weirder,” He said to himself, stretching back in his seat precariously.
Ducky smiled when Tony knocked jauntily on the door, sauntering in easily. “Ah, Anthony, always a pleasure,” He said warmly, rinsing his hands off a final time before turning off the taps firmly. “Care for a spot of tea, my dear boy?”
Tony grinned, face lighting up in glee. “Do you have any of those little shortbread biscuit things?”
“Certainly.” Ducky waved Tony into his office politely, fussing with a canister of tea and a tin of biscuits until they were spread out onto a tray to his liking. “How are you this afternoon?”
“Ah, you know. Same old, same old. And you, Duck?”
Ducky smiled, passing Tony a cup of black tea, setting out milk and sugar where he could easily reach them, watching as Tony doctored the bitter tea with copious amounts of milk and sugar. “Quite a slow day, all things considering. In this weather, most people tend to curl up at home with a good book.”
“Or a good movie,” Tony interjected.
“Or a good film,” Duck allowed, “with a cup of coffee or hot cocoa or a good tumbler of whiskey. And speaking of which,” He stood up awkwardly, resting his hand on Tony’s shoulder briefly for balance as he leaned over, fishing in the bottom drawer of his desk for something. He emerged triumphant, clasping a thermos container in one hand. He presented it to Tony ceremoniously.
“Aw, Duck, you shouldn’t have,” Tony teased, and pried open the lid, a rapturous expression sliding onto his face at the heady scent of chocolate. “Oh my god, Ducky, hot chocolate? I love you.”
“Yes, well, I though you’d appreciate it,” Ducky said affectionately, flustered by the teasing declaration that nevertheless rang true.
Tony smiled and set it down carefully. “Okay. Now. Wanna tell me why everyone’s being so nice today? It’s really starting to freak me out.”
Ducky looked at him seriously. “You were suffering from the plague not too long ago, Anthony, and however strong you think you’re immune system is, if you contract a cold it could have dire consequences. We are all aware of this. And especially now, with the temperatures so low, we’re all concerned for you.”
Tony’s expression softened. “So everything was so I don’t get sick again?”
“Precisely.” Ducky sat down again and gestured for Tony to finish his tea. “Perhaps we should hurry. It wouldn’t do for Jethro to find you down here,” He said, chuckling when Tony downed his tea in two long mouthfuls.
When Gibbs, McGee and Ziva traipsed in, wet and cold, thee were cups of good quality, steaming coffee on their desks, next to giant chocolate bars. It was the best kind of thank you.