[fic] - Under their influence - NCIS
Title: Under their influence
Character(s): Jimmy Palmer, Ducky, Kate Todd
Pairing(s): n/a
Genre(s): gen
Episode(s): Implied spoilers for About face, Silent Night
Crossover(s): n/a
Prompt: Round 3.07 of the NCIS_LFWS challenge on Livejournal, prompt was 'Intoxication'
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm only borrowing them and will return them in the same condition I found them.
Jimmy Palmer's first NCIS Christmas party was a memorable one. At least he was sure it would have been if he could remember more of it. He'd been nervous of course, the party had been the first social occasion he'd attended since starting his new job, and he was worried as to whether he'd fit in or not. Originally he had been in two minds as to his attendance at the party. On the one hand, it was for all employees of NCIS, no matter what their job status. He'd even received an email to that effect, him and the rest of the staff at Headquarters.
On the other hand, he felt somewhat discomfited by the prospect of dealing with so many people in a social setting. It was one thing dealing with Agents during the course of the working day, when he was somewhat protected by the strength of their respect for Ducky. While he might be the lowest man on the totem pole, nobody would dare treat him with anything less than civility, at least not while Ducky was in earshot. It wasn't that Jimmy feared people would be rude to him at a party when they weren't on the clock, it was more that he didn't really *know* them all that well. Oh he knew their names, knew the teams they worked with, but on a personal level, he knew next to nothing about the people he saw every day. As it stood, Doctor Mallard was probably the person he knew most about at NCIS, but then, everybody knew a lot about him if they'd only take the time to listen. And a part of Jimmy was afraid that if he went to the Christmas party he’d end up standing in the corner with nobody to talk to.
But he could hardly go to a party and spent it hovering in his boss’s shadow. Apart from anything else, Doctor Mallard would hardly appreciate it. Some days Jimmy wasn't certain whether Doctor Mallard regretted the hiring decision he'd made. Over six months now, and he still hadn't been called anything other than ‘Mr. Palmer’ by the man.
The days passed, and the countdown to the seasonal festivities began, and Jimmy was no nearer making a decision regarding his attendance. He reasoned to himself that he would probably end up being called to assist Doctor Mallard at a crime scene, so there was no point in making plans to attend. A part of him was hoping that would happen. Another part of him was somewhat mortified that he would wish for somebody to die just so that he could avoid embarrassing himself. Yet another part of him rationalized that it wasn’t as if he himself was going to kill somebody, and it was perfectly all right to take advantage of whatever situation presented itself. The rest of him was sure he’d been listening to Special Agent DiNozzo a little too much.
When the day of the party presented itself however, the one body on the table had been fully autopsied and cause of death diagnosed before close of business. Jimmy had been busy cleaning the morgue at the end of the day and had almost forgotten about the party until Doctor Mallard told him it was time to leave. “You’ll need to have time to go home and change before the party, Mister Palmer,” he had said.
Jimmy had started to stammer out that he hadn’t even intended to go, but Doctor Mallard had seemed to think his attendance as a foregone conclusion, “And I’ve specifically taken you off the call out roster for tonight, so do enjoy yourself without any fears that you will be called away in the middle of the festivities.” He had gone on to reminisce about past Christmas parties, both with NCIS and in his earlier years, and by the time Jimmy had escaped, he had barely enough time to travel home and change into more appropriate party wear than his scrubs.
But even with a change of clothes, Jimmy still didn’t feel in a party mood. As he’d expected, most of the NCIS staff seemed to stick with their own little cliques, and with Ducky having stayed at home with his mother, Jimmy was the only representative of Autopsy. He leaned against the wall, holding on to a glass as if it was a lifeline, and wondering how early he could gracefully leave the party. Not that anybody here was likely to notice his absence, he thought a little forlornly as he stared at the floor, but on the off chance that Doctor Mallard inquired as to his enjoyment of the party, Jimmy didn’t really want to have to admit that he’d been home and tucked up in bed *too* early.
He was about three glasses to the good when he saw them approach. A pair of Prada shoes, the type that weren’t meant for dancing so much as for sitting out a dance in. The shoes that would feed a family for a month, but you’d go hungry just to have a chance to wear them. The shoes that no agent worth their salt would dare wear out in the field but if they owned a pair they’d keep them in their desk drawer just so they could look at them while they worked.
“Jimmy, are you all right?”
The shoes that were currently being worn by one Special Agent Kate Todd who was looking at him with concern in her face.
“I um, was, um just, uh…” Jimmy could feel the blush rising in his face as he realized just how mesmerized he’d been. He quickly downed the remainder of his drink, wishing he could splash it on his cheeks to cool them down. “I was just uh, thinking about the body that I cleaned up earlier with…”
“Jimmy Palmer, this is a party. You’re not supposed to be thinking about work.” Kate held out her arm to Jimmy. “And that’s an order.”
If Jimmy had really been listening too much to Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, he might have had some snappy retort about ‘Kate’ not being his boss, but instead he allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor and from there to the bar and then back onto the dance floor where Agent Todd introduced him to some of her friends, and then they had drinks with him and then he danced with Agent Todd again, and tried to avoid staring at her shoes too much - but they were such pretty shoes and she had such pretty feet when she took off her shoes near the end of the night. By that time Jimmy had had many more drinks and many more dances and was smiling quite happily as Kate (as she had insisted he call her after their third dance) led him to a taxi and fastened his seat belt for him.
“I had a lovely night,” said Jimmy, trying not to slur his words as he leaned towards the taxi door.
“Well I hope you don’t have a horrible morning,” said Kate, a smile on her face as she closed the door.
Jimmy fumbled at the handle and managed to roll down the window. “Thank you Agent…thank you Kate. Thanks for making my first Christmas party so,” he hiccupped loudly.
“You’re welcome, Jimmy Palmer,” said Kate. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “We’ll do this again next year.”
------------------
Jimmy leaned back against the seat as the taxi pulled away.
“Good party, kid?” asked the taxi driver, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.
“Intoxicating,” said Jimmy, closing his eyes. He fell asleep and dreamed of shoes, and of Kate wearing the Prada shoes and of Kate wearing nothing *but* the shoes..
It was just as well however for Jimmy’s future interactions with Special Agent Todd, that he didn’t remember his dreams when he woke up.
The End
Character(s): Jimmy Palmer, Ducky, Kate Todd
Pairing(s): n/a
Genre(s): gen
Episode(s): Implied spoilers for About face, Silent Night
Crossover(s): n/a
Prompt: Round 3.07 of the NCIS_LFWS challenge on Livejournal, prompt was 'Intoxication'
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm only borrowing them and will return them in the same condition I found them.
Jimmy Palmer's first NCIS Christmas party was a memorable one. At least he was sure it would have been if he could remember more of it. He'd been nervous of course, the party had been the first social occasion he'd attended since starting his new job, and he was worried as to whether he'd fit in or not. Originally he had been in two minds as to his attendance at the party. On the one hand, it was for all employees of NCIS, no matter what their job status. He'd even received an email to that effect, him and the rest of the staff at Headquarters.
On the other hand, he felt somewhat discomfited by the prospect of dealing with so many people in a social setting. It was one thing dealing with Agents during the course of the working day, when he was somewhat protected by the strength of their respect for Ducky. While he might be the lowest man on the totem pole, nobody would dare treat him with anything less than civility, at least not while Ducky was in earshot. It wasn't that Jimmy feared people would be rude to him at a party when they weren't on the clock, it was more that he didn't really *know* them all that well. Oh he knew their names, knew the teams they worked with, but on a personal level, he knew next to nothing about the people he saw every day. As it stood, Doctor Mallard was probably the person he knew most about at NCIS, but then, everybody knew a lot about him if they'd only take the time to listen. And a part of Jimmy was afraid that if he went to the Christmas party he’d end up standing in the corner with nobody to talk to.
But he could hardly go to a party and spent it hovering in his boss’s shadow. Apart from anything else, Doctor Mallard would hardly appreciate it. Some days Jimmy wasn't certain whether Doctor Mallard regretted the hiring decision he'd made. Over six months now, and he still hadn't been called anything other than ‘Mr. Palmer’ by the man.
The days passed, and the countdown to the seasonal festivities began, and Jimmy was no nearer making a decision regarding his attendance. He reasoned to himself that he would probably end up being called to assist Doctor Mallard at a crime scene, so there was no point in making plans to attend. A part of him was hoping that would happen. Another part of him was somewhat mortified that he would wish for somebody to die just so that he could avoid embarrassing himself. Yet another part of him rationalized that it wasn’t as if he himself was going to kill somebody, and it was perfectly all right to take advantage of whatever situation presented itself. The rest of him was sure he’d been listening to Special Agent DiNozzo a little too much.
When the day of the party presented itself however, the one body on the table had been fully autopsied and cause of death diagnosed before close of business. Jimmy had been busy cleaning the morgue at the end of the day and had almost forgotten about the party until Doctor Mallard told him it was time to leave. “You’ll need to have time to go home and change before the party, Mister Palmer,” he had said.
Jimmy had started to stammer out that he hadn’t even intended to go, but Doctor Mallard had seemed to think his attendance as a foregone conclusion, “And I’ve specifically taken you off the call out roster for tonight, so do enjoy yourself without any fears that you will be called away in the middle of the festivities.” He had gone on to reminisce about past Christmas parties, both with NCIS and in his earlier years, and by the time Jimmy had escaped, he had barely enough time to travel home and change into more appropriate party wear than his scrubs.
But even with a change of clothes, Jimmy still didn’t feel in a party mood. As he’d expected, most of the NCIS staff seemed to stick with their own little cliques, and with Ducky having stayed at home with his mother, Jimmy was the only representative of Autopsy. He leaned against the wall, holding on to a glass as if it was a lifeline, and wondering how early he could gracefully leave the party. Not that anybody here was likely to notice his absence, he thought a little forlornly as he stared at the floor, but on the off chance that Doctor Mallard inquired as to his enjoyment of the party, Jimmy didn’t really want to have to admit that he’d been home and tucked up in bed *too* early.
He was about three glasses to the good when he saw them approach. A pair of Prada shoes, the type that weren’t meant for dancing so much as for sitting out a dance in. The shoes that would feed a family for a month, but you’d go hungry just to have a chance to wear them. The shoes that no agent worth their salt would dare wear out in the field but if they owned a pair they’d keep them in their desk drawer just so they could look at them while they worked.
“Jimmy, are you all right?”
The shoes that were currently being worn by one Special Agent Kate Todd who was looking at him with concern in her face.
“I um, was, um just, uh…” Jimmy could feel the blush rising in his face as he realized just how mesmerized he’d been. He quickly downed the remainder of his drink, wishing he could splash it on his cheeks to cool them down. “I was just uh, thinking about the body that I cleaned up earlier with…”
“Jimmy Palmer, this is a party. You’re not supposed to be thinking about work.” Kate held out her arm to Jimmy. “And that’s an order.”
If Jimmy had really been listening too much to Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, he might have had some snappy retort about ‘Kate’ not being his boss, but instead he allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor and from there to the bar and then back onto the dance floor where Agent Todd introduced him to some of her friends, and then they had drinks with him and then he danced with Agent Todd again, and tried to avoid staring at her shoes too much - but they were such pretty shoes and she had such pretty feet when she took off her shoes near the end of the night. By that time Jimmy had had many more drinks and many more dances and was smiling quite happily as Kate (as she had insisted he call her after their third dance) led him to a taxi and fastened his seat belt for him.
“I had a lovely night,” said Jimmy, trying not to slur his words as he leaned towards the taxi door.
“Well I hope you don’t have a horrible morning,” said Kate, a smile on her face as she closed the door.
Jimmy fumbled at the handle and managed to roll down the window. “Thank you Agent…thank you Kate. Thanks for making my first Christmas party so,” he hiccupped loudly.
“You’re welcome, Jimmy Palmer,” said Kate. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “We’ll do this again next year.”
------------------
Jimmy leaned back against the seat as the taxi pulled away.
“Good party, kid?” asked the taxi driver, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.
“Intoxicating,” said Jimmy, closing his eyes. He fell asleep and dreamed of shoes, and of Kate wearing the Prada shoes and of Kate wearing nothing *but* the shoes..
It was just as well however for Jimmy’s future interactions with Special Agent Todd, that he didn’t remember his dreams when he woke up.
The End