NCIS Tiva AU (Teaser): Love, Guns, & Dodgeball - Dodgeball Distractions
A little teaser ficlet for my upcoming Tiva Season 4 AU, the premise of which is discussed more in detail (along with a teaser fanmix) here. All you really need to know is that Tony is a gym teacher, Ziva is Ziva, and it picks up after after the fourth season episode “Dead Man Walking”. The idea is that the pair meet when she switches running routes in the aftermath of that episode. Et voila.
Dodgeball Distractions (a.k.a. Dodgeball Excerpt I)
He only realizes he hasn’t been paying attention when his cheek is suddenly impacted by soft plastic.
Though the blue foam ball bounces harmlessly off his face, hitting the floor once, twice, three times before rolling to a stop, Tony rubs his jaw pointedly and sends a disgruntled glare around the room on principle.
“Really?” he asks.
His eighth grade class stands frozen, scattered throughout the gymnasium wearing contrite expressions that seem more than a little insincere. Except poor Jenny Hannigan - she just looks like she wants to cry.
Tony gives his abused cheek one last, hard swipe, fruitlessly trying to remove the feeling that years of grime build-up are now clinging to his skin. Then he picks up a green ball that’s resting by his feet - spares a brief thought for how many balls were actually thrown at him before one finally hit - and casually tosses it between his hands as he begins weaving a sauntering path to the centre of the gym. He assesses each student on the way (though he only winks reassuringly at Jenny, because dealing with tears is not something he’s up for today): most turn their gazes to the ground when he nears; a few brave souls meet his scrutiny head on.
“Hmm,” he intones as he walks. “Hmmmmm.”
Michael Nugent rolls his eyes with a full-head movement that is anything but subtle. Tony backtracks and comes to a halt in front of him. He smiles toothily, greeting, “Mike!”
The senior basketball team captain swallows. “Coach.”
“Say, Mike, you wouldn’t happen to know who decided to chuck a ball at my head, would you?” Nervous silence. Good. “Cause I gotta say,” Tony adds with an abbreviated laugh. “You know I love me some dodgeball, but I generally prefer a proper invitation to play.”
Michael’s pupils track to somewhere over Tony’s shoulder. “Wasn’t me, Coach.”
Tony stares at him a minute longer for good measure.
“No,” he concludes at length. “It wasn’t, was it?” He whirls around and points dramatically with the ball he’s still holding. “O’Brien!”
Jimmy O’Brien’s mouth drops open. Then he glares furiously at Michael. “Dude!” he hisses. “Who are you, Benedict Cumberbatch?”
“I didn’t say anything!” comes the inevitable protest.
Jimmy seems prepared to argue the point, so Tony quickly interrupts, “O’Brien, cool your jets. Mike’s neither BBC’s Sherlock nor Benedict Arnold. He can’t help where he looks.” After a moment’s consideration, he tacks on, “Sidebar: remind me to have a serious discussion with Miss Parks about your history grade.”
Jimmy deflates. “Sorry, Mr. D.”
“Care to tell me why you decided to use your teacher for target practice?” Tony asks.
Jimmy shuffles a little. Doesn’t answer.
“You weren’t paying attention to the game, Mr. D!” pipes up Lucy Middleton from his right.
“Yeah,” says Mike, nodding. “Casey hit Todd but you weren’t watching, so Todd never went out like he was supposed to. Then the same thing happened when I hit Kim, and when Jimmy hit -”
Lucy cuts in, “It was anarchy, Mr. D.”
Well. That’s…actually fair. Tony lets his arm drop back to his side with a whoosh. “Okay,” he says. “Fine. But for future reference, next time anyone throws a ball at me, I’m returning fire. And I’m like the Hulk when I’m mad, so don’t expect it to be pretty.” With his free hand, Tony lifts the whistle hanging around his neck and gives it a sharp blow. “Game: back on!”
A red ball nearly clips his ear.
“Whoa, whoa - wait until I’m back on the sidelines!” he exclaims, straightening from his reflexive duck. “Really guys? Come on!”
He hustles off the floor, and promises himself that he’s done thinking about the girl in the orange toque. There will be no more distractions; he’s here to teach.
…He wonders if he’ll see her again tomorrow.
Grab your (running) gear, the fun begins Summer 2014