NCIS Fic - Tim Hortons (G, Gen)
Title: Tim Hortons
Fandom: NCIS
Character(s): Gibbs-centric, but the entire team makes an appearance.
Genre: Humour, friendship
Pairing:Gen
Spoilers: None. =)
Word Count: Between 800-900
Disclaimer: NCIS doesn't belong to me, this is solely for fun. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Gibbs has never been a name-brand sort of person. He likes his coffee hot and black and about the consistency of tar.
AN: impalalove suggested the prompt Gibbs + Tim Hortons to me, which prompted this fic (a nice amusing stress reliever to end the week off with.) For anyone that may not know -- Tim Hortons is a popular Canadian coffee&doughnuts chain. As for the tidbit about Toronto weather -- this was written during a cold snap a month ago (before we were buried in snow.)
---
Gibbs has never been a name-brand sort of person.
He likes his coffee hot and black and about the consistency of tar.
He can usually be found with a Starbucks cup in his hand-solely because Starbucks breed like rabbits and there are three within walking distance of the office.
He frequents more major coffee chains because their immense popularity demands they learn the art of efficiency. On a good morning, he can be through the line and out the doors within two minutes.
The unique details that separate different stores from one another (the music, the layout, the décor) are lost on him - he likes to get his coffee quickly; preferably imbued with enough caffeine to last him the half hour until his second cup of the day.
So when his team catches a case that brings them to Canada, he loses himself in the subtleties of the case and doesn’t spare a thought as to where his next cup of joe is coming from. Coffee is coffee-no matter where he is.
They work through the night, rotating off in shifts for two-hour catnaps in the two hotel rooms they have booked. Gibbs survives on the hotel coffee (‘sludge’ is a better term than ‘coffee’, actually) through the wee hours of the morning, until he snaps at 0630 and sends Tony out for something hotter than the lukewarm… substance taking up residence at the bottom of his paper cup.
Tony’s gone for half an hour - but Gibbs knows this is less about the time required to get coffee (this is Toronto - and like any major city, it runs on caffeine) and more about his Senior Field Agent needing a break from the paperwork. Tony had chosen not to take his two-hour catnap when his turn came up, opting to keep working because he was metaphorically knee-deep in a file and didn’t envy the task of someone trying to pick up where he left off.
When Tony returns, Gibbs doesn’t spare a glance at the name on the cup. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand, he grabs a tall cup from the tray.
Tony snags a cup for himself, distributing the other two to Ziva and McGee. He sets Ziva’s on the bedside table beside her, where she will find it once she wakes up. McGee had been the one to come up with a solution to her snoring - and Tony finds his new wax earplugs work just fine at reducing the volume on the roar of the chainsaw.
Gibbs takes a long, deep sip from the cup. The caffeine takes effect quickly in his system-providing him with the kick start necessary for his demeanor to jump from ‘impossible’ to merely ‘intolerable’.
The second and third sips are much the same-providing him with the ability to form coherent thoughts without the need to additionally insult anyone, and a boost of energy respectively.
It isn’t until the fourth sip that anything else about the coffee starts to register - specifically, its taste. Compared to hotel’s stuff, this is the Holy Grail of coffee. Hot and caffeinated and strong without the need to resemble industrial-strength roof tar.
He regards the cup with an approving smile, and sets back to work.
Now that is what coffee should be.
Ziva wakes up around 0800 - about the time Tony is growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of progress on the case and begins complaining about the annoying ratio of cold-to-snow ratio (the -15° Celsius base temperature - which is -23° with the wind chill; compared to the nonexistent 2 centimeters of snow on the ground).
McGee is mumbling about Wraith and Puddle Jumpers - whatever those are - so Gibbs makes a decision as team leader that it’s time they all get properly caffeinated again. One of them could just as easily make a coffee run, but Ziva is starting to get restless and he could use a little fresh air himself - albeit slightly brisk fresh air, as it’s January (a month which usually means all the cold of the season with none of the snow for this city).
Tony leads the way, directing his team past at least ten assorted Starbucks and Second Cups and Coffee Times until they reach one store. “Tada,” he proclaims. The store is warm and filled with the smell of freshly baked goods.
The cup is vaguely familiar - decked out in a seasonal wrap-around design of kids playing hockey in the snow; and it occurs to Gibbs that this is the same place Tony must have gotten the earlier cup from. With that in mind, he orders two cups at the counter - it’s going to be a long day, and coffee like this will ease some of the stress of it.
He’s never been a brand name person, but the taste appeals to him enough that he glances down at the logo on the cup.
Tim Hortons. Huh.
Fandom: NCIS
Character(s): Gibbs-centric, but the entire team makes an appearance.
Genre: Humour, friendship
Pairing:Gen
Spoilers: None. =)
Word Count: Between 800-900
Disclaimer: NCIS doesn't belong to me, this is solely for fun. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Gibbs has never been a name-brand sort of person. He likes his coffee hot and black and about the consistency of tar.
AN: impalalove suggested the prompt Gibbs + Tim Hortons to me, which prompted this fic (a nice amusing stress reliever to end the week off with.) For anyone that may not know -- Tim Hortons is a popular Canadian coffee&doughnuts chain. As for the tidbit about Toronto weather -- this was written during a cold snap a month ago (before we were buried in snow.)
---
Gibbs has never been a name-brand sort of person.
He likes his coffee hot and black and about the consistency of tar.
He can usually be found with a Starbucks cup in his hand-solely because Starbucks breed like rabbits and there are three within walking distance of the office.
He frequents more major coffee chains because their immense popularity demands they learn the art of efficiency. On a good morning, he can be through the line and out the doors within two minutes.
The unique details that separate different stores from one another (the music, the layout, the décor) are lost on him - he likes to get his coffee quickly; preferably imbued with enough caffeine to last him the half hour until his second cup of the day.
So when his team catches a case that brings them to Canada, he loses himself in the subtleties of the case and doesn’t spare a thought as to where his next cup of joe is coming from. Coffee is coffee-no matter where he is.
They work through the night, rotating off in shifts for two-hour catnaps in the two hotel rooms they have booked. Gibbs survives on the hotel coffee (‘sludge’ is a better term than ‘coffee’, actually) through the wee hours of the morning, until he snaps at 0630 and sends Tony out for something hotter than the lukewarm… substance taking up residence at the bottom of his paper cup.
Tony’s gone for half an hour - but Gibbs knows this is less about the time required to get coffee (this is Toronto - and like any major city, it runs on caffeine) and more about his Senior Field Agent needing a break from the paperwork. Tony had chosen not to take his two-hour catnap when his turn came up, opting to keep working because he was metaphorically knee-deep in a file and didn’t envy the task of someone trying to pick up where he left off.
When Tony returns, Gibbs doesn’t spare a glance at the name on the cup. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand, he grabs a tall cup from the tray.
Tony snags a cup for himself, distributing the other two to Ziva and McGee. He sets Ziva’s on the bedside table beside her, where she will find it once she wakes up. McGee had been the one to come up with a solution to her snoring - and Tony finds his new wax earplugs work just fine at reducing the volume on the roar of the chainsaw.
Gibbs takes a long, deep sip from the cup. The caffeine takes effect quickly in his system-providing him with the kick start necessary for his demeanor to jump from ‘impossible’ to merely ‘intolerable’.
The second and third sips are much the same-providing him with the ability to form coherent thoughts without the need to additionally insult anyone, and a boost of energy respectively.
It isn’t until the fourth sip that anything else about the coffee starts to register - specifically, its taste. Compared to hotel’s stuff, this is the Holy Grail of coffee. Hot and caffeinated and strong without the need to resemble industrial-strength roof tar.
He regards the cup with an approving smile, and sets back to work.
Now that is what coffee should be.
Ziva wakes up around 0800 - about the time Tony is growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of progress on the case and begins complaining about the annoying ratio of cold-to-snow ratio (the -15° Celsius base temperature - which is -23° with the wind chill; compared to the nonexistent 2 centimeters of snow on the ground).
McGee is mumbling about Wraith and Puddle Jumpers - whatever those are - so Gibbs makes a decision as team leader that it’s time they all get properly caffeinated again. One of them could just as easily make a coffee run, but Ziva is starting to get restless and he could use a little fresh air himself - albeit slightly brisk fresh air, as it’s January (a month which usually means all the cold of the season with none of the snow for this city).
Tony leads the way, directing his team past at least ten assorted Starbucks and Second Cups and Coffee Times until they reach one store. “Tada,” he proclaims. The store is warm and filled with the smell of freshly baked goods.
The cup is vaguely familiar - decked out in a seasonal wrap-around design of kids playing hockey in the snow; and it occurs to Gibbs that this is the same place Tony must have gotten the earlier cup from. With that in mind, he orders two cups at the counter - it’s going to be a long day, and coffee like this will ease some of the stress of it.
He’s never been a brand name person, but the taste appeals to him enough that he glances down at the logo on the cup.
Tim Hortons. Huh.