(no subject)
Headache. Homework. Gaah.
-The leaves are finally budded here, and yesterday's sunset was glorious.
-Random Dresden Files question: how do you pronounce Marcone?
-Not on Dreamwidth yet. See y'all there eventually.
- Pipecleaner Ishida pictures are up!
-In the spectacular upsets department: MINE THAT BIRD.
Also: hey, whochick, told you I'd write you something!
Fandom: NCIS
Genre: G, humor
Summary: Tony gets rained on. McGee watches. Life is strange.
Title:
Sting
"Rain on a stakeout. Totally predictable," mumbled the man in the drenched hoodie, leaning against the storefront wall as though holding it up with his back.
A voice hummed in his ear. It wasn't the one he'd have picked.
"Stop being such a baby, Tony. You've done nothing but complain for the last six hours."
"Isn't that what bums are supposed to do, McGripe?" (Only his mouth was visible from that distance, sour and loose-lipped; the eyes and the tiny mike were hidden under the hood.) "They talk. They complain. They carry on long conversations with all their invisible buddies. It's not their fault if there isn't a sympathetic ear in five hundred miles."
The words were predictable, but the voice lacked its usual challenging edge. Despite himself, McGee worried.
"Relax," he tried, adjusting his earphones and leaning back. He should have checked the weather when he came in, but if he did it now, it would mean something different. "You're not gonna melt."
"I'm already melted. I'm a puddle, McGurgle. At one with the mud. Tell Abby...." A strange sound came over the wire: it might have been a suppressed cough. "Never mind, Gibbs can tell her--"
"Tell her what, DiNozzo?" said Gibbs from two inches away. McGee merely shot a glance backward, to preoccupied to startle at the older man's silent appearance.
"Boss." The figure on the screen shifted, hunching over hands jammed into the pockets of his sweats. "I was just telling McGee--"
His tone was still dull, numbed over and all wrong. This wasn't the man who had Superglued McGee's fingers to the keyboard, ceremonially presented Agent Lee with her own office stapler, psyched Ziva into crawling under her car in search of a nonexistent booby trap, and single-handedly kept everyone's hackles raised all day, every day, whenever he was anywhere near the bullpen, or on certain occasions even without being physically present.
"--that someone should tell Abby, since I can't, since I'm out here getting rained on--"
McGee leaned back towards Gibbs. He wasn't really going to suggest pulling Tony out after half a day in the cold spring rain. He didn't really think the thready catch in the man's voice was a sign of an over-aggravated respiratory tract. It was just reflex, surely.
But that was the moment when everything happened at once.
A pedestrian in a long gray coat ambled by, a bit too close to the agent under the hood. Something electric passed between the two -- maybe a look, maybe just a feeling. McGee barely saw them move: the suspect's hand darting for something in his coat, DiNozzo launching off the wall in a spray of rainwater, nothing on the mike but a grunted explosion of breath.
It was over almost before it began.
DiNozzo straightened, steadying himself momentarily against a lamppost, and then mugged for the camera, showing one eye and too many teeth. The spring was very definitely back in his step. Steel flashed from the wrists of the lone gunman on the ground.
"McGee's got that look on his face, doesn't he? Don't answer that."
Gibbs didn't answer that. He wouldn't have, anyway. At least, McGee thought not.
"Just let Abby know I win. Ka-ching. Or don't, I'll tell her myself. Or not. Because there was definitely no bet, and if there had been it wouldn't been about making him get that look."
The penny dropped. McGee's face fell with it.
"Can I come home now, boss?"
"Bring him in, DiNozzo." The voice came from all the way across the room -- Gibbs was on his way out, pausing only to add a few off-the-record words for McGee, who was trying really hard to get rid of that look.
"McGee. It's a warm rain."
Yeah. He really should have checked the weather.
_____
-The leaves are finally budded here, and yesterday's sunset was glorious.
-Random Dresden Files question: how do you pronounce Marcone?
-Not on Dreamwidth yet. See y'all there eventually.
- Pipecleaner Ishida pictures are up!
-In the spectacular upsets department: MINE THAT BIRD.
Also: hey, whochick, told you I'd write you something!
Fandom: NCIS
Genre: G, humor
Summary: Tony gets rained on. McGee watches. Life is strange.
Title:
Sting
"Rain on a stakeout. Totally predictable," mumbled the man in the drenched hoodie, leaning against the storefront wall as though holding it up with his back.
A voice hummed in his ear. It wasn't the one he'd have picked.
"Stop being such a baby, Tony. You've done nothing but complain for the last six hours."
"Isn't that what bums are supposed to do, McGripe?" (Only his mouth was visible from that distance, sour and loose-lipped; the eyes and the tiny mike were hidden under the hood.) "They talk. They complain. They carry on long conversations with all their invisible buddies. It's not their fault if there isn't a sympathetic ear in five hundred miles."
The words were predictable, but the voice lacked its usual challenging edge. Despite himself, McGee worried.
"Relax," he tried, adjusting his earphones and leaning back. He should have checked the weather when he came in, but if he did it now, it would mean something different. "You're not gonna melt."
"I'm already melted. I'm a puddle, McGurgle. At one with the mud. Tell Abby...." A strange sound came over the wire: it might have been a suppressed cough. "Never mind, Gibbs can tell her--"
"Tell her what, DiNozzo?" said Gibbs from two inches away. McGee merely shot a glance backward, to preoccupied to startle at the older man's silent appearance.
"Boss." The figure on the screen shifted, hunching over hands jammed into the pockets of his sweats. "I was just telling McGee--"
His tone was still dull, numbed over and all wrong. This wasn't the man who had Superglued McGee's fingers to the keyboard, ceremonially presented Agent Lee with her own office stapler, psyched Ziva into crawling under her car in search of a nonexistent booby trap, and single-handedly kept everyone's hackles raised all day, every day, whenever he was anywhere near the bullpen, or on certain occasions even without being physically present.
"--that someone should tell Abby, since I can't, since I'm out here getting rained on--"
McGee leaned back towards Gibbs. He wasn't really going to suggest pulling Tony out after half a day in the cold spring rain. He didn't really think the thready catch in the man's voice was a sign of an over-aggravated respiratory tract. It was just reflex, surely.
But that was the moment when everything happened at once.
A pedestrian in a long gray coat ambled by, a bit too close to the agent under the hood. Something electric passed between the two -- maybe a look, maybe just a feeling. McGee barely saw them move: the suspect's hand darting for something in his coat, DiNozzo launching off the wall in a spray of rainwater, nothing on the mike but a grunted explosion of breath.
It was over almost before it began.
DiNozzo straightened, steadying himself momentarily against a lamppost, and then mugged for the camera, showing one eye and too many teeth. The spring was very definitely back in his step. Steel flashed from the wrists of the lone gunman on the ground.
"McGee's got that look on his face, doesn't he? Don't answer that."
Gibbs didn't answer that. He wouldn't have, anyway. At least, McGee thought not.
"Just let Abby know I win. Ka-ching. Or don't, I'll tell her myself. Or not. Because there was definitely no bet, and if there had been it wouldn't been about making him get that look."
The penny dropped. McGee's face fell with it.
"Can I come home now, boss?"
"Bring him in, DiNozzo." The voice came from all the way across the room -- Gibbs was on his way out, pausing only to add a few off-the-record words for McGee, who was trying really hard to get rid of that look.
"McGee. It's a warm rain."
Yeah. He really should have checked the weather.
_____