Title: Untitled drabble
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Pairing: Leonard/Sheldon
Rating: PG/PG-13 for mild language.
Word Count: 1, 039
Warnings/Notes: Unbet’d fluff. Leonard's POV. Don't take your scienticific advice from a Bus. Ed. Major.
Summary: Sheldon won’t stop talking. Leonard has to take drastic measures. Cliches abound.

( This is why you buy locks. )

Crits and comments appreciated.

Title: Dedication
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing/character: McGee/DiNozzo
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine.
Summary: McGee works on his latest novel.
Notes/Warnings: Unbet'd. Established relationship. Butchered bookstore name done on purpose. Comments and crits appreciated.



Through the thick darkness, the ragged bodies crawled laboriously onwards towards their destination. Fear clutched in the hearts of the troops, but only steely, dirty faces stared at him as the captain glanced back to make sure no one had fallen behind. He had realized three and a half days ago when contact had been lost that this mission was an inevitable failure; dawn’s doom was only a few hours away. Knowing that it was his duty to keep his men alive and steadfast until the end, the captain’s mind churned as he tried to grasp at some motivating words he could speak to his company. Giving the signal for the others to halt their weary track, the parched throat gurgled from the lack of use as he took in a deep breath. Turning to face his troop, the captain’s mouth opened, letting his words fall on the fatigued, obedient ears:

“I’m bored!”

Startled, Timothy McGee’s fingers froze over the keys of the typewriter. The grey orbs, once narrowed in concentration, glanced up in confusion as the man struggled to orient himself with where he was. His music continued to softly play on, a sure sign that a miracle had been wrought in Anthony DiNozzo’s tolerance level.

“Come on, McTyper, let’s go do something! You’ve been working all morning, you need a break!” Tony chirped cheerfully, his own emerald orbs sparkling, “Didja know when you write, your mouth gapes open and your eyes bug out like this?!” he added in the same breath, doing a deer-in-headlights impression. Glaring at his partner leaning in the doorframe, McGee let out a low snarl. “Yes, Tony, you’ve told me so three times today. You’ve also interrupted me five times,” he pointed out.

Tony made a face, mimicking his partner’s voice as he finished the rest of the familiar lecture, adding some flourishes of his own, “I’ve got a deadline, Tony, Monday at five, don’t interrupt me until then, you can’t even look at me wrong or I’ll bite your head off!”

Sighing, McGee rubbed his forehead. God, he needed an aspirin. How in the world had he ever thought he could handle his job, writing, the dog, his sanity, and Tony DiNozzo all at the same time?

“Let me see what you’ve got!” Tony sang out, bounding across the room with an evil gleam. McGee stared up at Tony in disbelief as the other man hovered over his shoulder. Scanning the page still in the typewriter, Tony hmm’d and occasionally read a few lines aloud, voice dramatizing all the wrong parts. Attracted by the conversation, Jethro padded up to the door, sitting down at the doorframe with a mournful stare. The canine had long ago learned that while he could rule any room in the apartment, Master’s writing room was off limits. At least the dog had been trained, McGee thought; the same couldn’t be said for his partner.

“Hey, when are you going to do a sex scene between Agent Tommy and MacGregor? I could give you some inspiration for that if you want,” Tony interrupted McGee’s thoughts with a leer. Ignoring the come-on, McGee leveled his best stare at the other man. “Tony, you know I can’t do that. With our jobs, we have to be careful. It’s bad enough that Gibbs suspects, but if Vance found out…” he trailed off, knowing very well what the director’s reaction would be. The director was hell-bent on breaking up Gibbs’ team one way or another; they didn’t want to give him a good excuse.

“Of course boss knows! He knows everything, don’t you boy?” Tony asked Jethro, who replied with a bark, wagging his bushy tail.

“Alright, thanks for the DiNozzo review, but I’ve got at least another fifty pages or so to complete, so if you could just…go do something, please?” McGee begged. Tony frowned, the cheerful smile slipping for a minute. “But Tim…”

“No! Deadline! You knew when we started going out that I have to balance my job with writing, Tony. You’re going to have to be a little less needy for a while, alright?!” McGee shot back. Plastering the wide grin back on his face, Tony merely shrugged. “Hear that, Jethro? That means we’re going for a W-A-L-K,” Tony called out. Giving the agent a look that would rival that of his namesake’s, the dog turned tail and fled the room. “God damit! Even the DOG doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Tony growled. “It’s 102 degrees out, Tony,” McGee called out to his partner’s retreating back. “Like you’d know, McHermit,” Tony muttered to himself.

With an air of defeat, the spurned agent flopped down on the couch, listlessly picking up the remote. Deciding to do some major channel surfing with the volume turned up just to drive McGee nuts, he was distracted by the appearance of said  person. “Oooh, look, the dungeon master has escaped the lair!” Tony called out. The only reply he received was a huff and heavy footsteps. “Time for a potty break?” Tony continued, eyeing behind him. “Toilet’s that way,” he pointed out as the chubbier man sat down in his computer chair. McGee rolled his eyes, pressing his computer monitor on with a bit more force than necessary. Booting up the internet and typing in a few lines of text, McGee sat back in his chair, donning a smug look on his face. Tony continued to stare curiously as McGee printed a piece of paper. It was a quick walk back to the couch where McGee dropped the paper into Tony’s waiting hands. “Here. It’s a code. Try to figure it out, Mr. Bond.”

010001010110111001110100011001010111001001110100011000010110100101101110001000000111100101101111011101010111001001110011011001010110110001100110

Before Tony could reply, the other man had already escaped back to his room, closing the door firmly. Puzzled by all the ones and zeros, Tony turned the paper upside down, then sideways. No matter what he did, he couldn’t make sense of it, but suddenly he was struck by the desire to solve it just to piss McGee off. “Damn nerds. Think they’re so much smarter than the rest of us,” Tony pouted. “Nothing can escape the awesome mind of Agent DiNozzo!” he yelled towards the door. “Ok! First we figure out where he went on the computer!” he stated, jumping off the couch. “What!? Stupid computer! It’s not like the one at work!” Tony whined to a bored looking Jethro. “Minor setback….ok, boss. Help me look for the ‘on’ button…”

With a groan, McGee straightened his posture, listening with a wince to the cracks and pops of his joints. God, maybe Tony was right in that he wrote too much. Suddenly struck by the fact that he had not heard nor seen his partner in a while, McGee glanced down at his watch. Five hours! What on earth had Tony entertained himself with? Wondering if Tony had left, or maybe killed himself, McGee got up to go check, but only got half way across the room before his partner materialized. The grey orbs softened as he took in his partner’s pleased appearance. “Hey, Tony…what have you been doing?”

Encouraged by McGee’s surprising good mood, Tony waved the piece of paper he had been clutching. Momentarily confused, McGee reached out and took it, recognition dawning only to be replaced by confusion. A line had been drawn diagonally through all the 1’s so that it looked like a lopsided X mark. “What did you…?” McGee started off, giving Tony a quizzical look.

“I figured out what it meant! Well, actually, I narrowed it down to three choices. Wanna hear them?” Without waiting for McGee to confirm or deny, Tony barreled on, “Ok, code one: You want me. Why else would you write a bunch of X’s and O’s? Though I prefer kisses and groping to hugs and kisses, whatever floats your boat.  Code two: You want to play tic-tac-toe. In bed?” he added hopefully. McGee let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head. “And three?” he asked, returning Tony’s smile.

“Code three: You want to watch the Matrix…’though I don’t know why. I mean, I’m much better looking than Keanu Reeves, and I actually have more than one facial expression.”  Waiting for McGee’s laughter to subside, Tony shifted impatiently. “Soo, which one is it? First one, right?!”

“Ah, Tony…Thank you…” McGee replied softly, “I know I’m not…” He hesitated slightly, trying to come up with the right words. How much easier it was to write than talk!

“…giving me enough attention? Treating me like a good boyfriend? Putting out enough?” Tony finished for him helpfully. In spite of the words, his tone was light and teasing, and McGee smiled slightly. “Yeah, pretty much. But not the last one. We’re doing good on that.” Tony snorted, but bit back a retort as McGee narrowed his eyes at him. “Right. Well. You know I respect your work. I like to watch you write sometimes. You can really tell when you drift off to la-la-land! I’ve bought every one of your books, and I’ll be the first one in line when they make one of them into a movie. Just please pick a good actor for my character…”

Smiling, McGee leaned towards his partner, capturing the other’s lips with his own. They stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence as Tony deepened the chaste kiss. Withdrawing his tongue from the other’s mouth, McGee was the first to break the kiss, smirking at Tony as they caught their breath.  “I’ve already picked the actor I want to play you, actually.”

Unperturbed, Tony only quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, who?”

“I’ll give you a hint…his initials are M.W.” McGee replied, taking Tony’s hand in his own and tugging him towards the bedroom.



“Damn fan girls,” Tony muttered in disgust. The agent peered around the large crowd huddled in front of a display, but to no avail. There was no way of reaching the shelf unless he was willing to fight his way through the crowd. “Damn Barney & Nobel’s needs to be bigger!” Glancing at his watch, Tony sighed. He had to be at work in exactly eight minutes, make that seven minutes and forty-five seconds, and he hadn’t even picked up the coffee. Of course, McGee would understand if he arrived coffeeless, but Boss would deep-six his ass to Timbuktu. And only Tim had permission to do anything to his ass, so Tony fought his way out of the bookstore.

He arrived safely with the coffee ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds later. Gibbs thoughtfully waited until he had been relieved of the cups before head-smacking him. Ziva laughed, smirking behind her cappuccino as Tony grumbled his way to his chair. “You are late. Why? Forget to sit your alarm?” Ziva demanded. “No, I don’t sit on my alarm clock, thank you.” Tony shot back, neglecting to answer the first question.

“Oh, well. I stopped by the bookstore this morning,” Ziva continued, ignoring the look DiNozzo and McGee gave each other at her latest language foul-up. Straightening in his chair, Tony narrowed his eyes at her, recognizing the warning signs that the Israeli was about to use some bit of information against him. “You got McGee’s book!?”

“Oh, yes. McGee, very nice dedication page, by the way,” Ziva replied smoothly, holding up the book. “Let me see!” Tony yelped. Gibbs glared as his senior agent raced towards the Israeli’s desk, but Ziva had quickly closed the book, preventing Tony from seeing anything but the cover.

“There’s a copy in your desk, DiNozzo” McGee piped up softly, giving Tony a small smile. McGee watched in amusement as Tony preceded to rummage through his desk contents, but turned his head back to his monitor as his partner found the book. Little moments like these could give their relationship away; in any case, he knew Ziva and Gibbs wouldn’t want to witness one of their sappy mind-reading moments.

Flipping through the first few pages, Tony ‘s eyes were drawn to the dedication page, recognizing his name with delight:


For Big D, whose impatient and whiny friendship supports me more than anything.

Below that was a handwritten note, carefully scrawled out in the blank vastness of the page:

01001001001000000110110001101111011101100110010100100000011110010110111101110101

Title: Happy Birthday, Probie!
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing/character: McGee/DiNozzo
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Surprise, surprise!
Summary: It's McGee's birthday; Abby and Tony fight to the death to see who gives the best gifts. Well, not really.
Notes/Warnings: Unbeta'd. Sorry, I don't have a beta reader. Criticism, comments, etc. are very much appreciated!


Anthony D. DiNozzo was on a mission. Not a mission that required Glocks and dodging bullets, but one that nonetheless required all the cunning and special skills a highly trained federal agent could muster. It was a dangerous mission, full of distractions and potentially high prices to pay. People that were not highly trained federal agents codenamed the mission “shopping”. Well, so did Tony, but he usually spoke of it with a grimace and a childish roll of the eyes.

It was that time of the year again, when murders were down slightly, NASCAR fans came out of hiding, and Probie’s birthday rolled around. Which is why Tony found himself once more in front of the local Nerdvania store a.k.a the comic book shop, featuring not only past and present comics for obsessive fans, but a frightening array of what Probie called “cosplay” costumes. Tony called them “movie extra rejects”.

With a slight huff, Tony turned his ignition key, letting the engine sputter and grow silent. Gathering all his wits and anti-nerd aura, the man stepped out of his car and briskly walked into the shop, not even pausing to admire the slightly menacing alien cutout plastered across the door. As Tony regretfully inhaled a breath of slightly sweaty air, he had to remind himself why he was here among the dateless. It was all Abby’s fault.

In the past few years, as the team had grown closer, getting one Timothy McGee’s birthday present had become something of a competition between him and the gothic forensics scientist. Gibbs and Ziva gave the McGoober the same boring gifts every year, usually involving some combination of typewriter paper or gun cleaning solution. But Abby, oh no, Abby always managed to come up with the perfect gift for the junior agent, and he was tired of it because Anthony D. DiNozzo liked to win.  

So each spring brought a round of Abby and Tony needling each other and dropping hints out of McGee‘s earshot, each vying to outdo each other. For the first few years, McGee had gotten that adorably flustered slash confused look when Abby and Tony offered their presents with eager smirks, demanding to know which he liked best. McGee must have finally caught on, though; the past year he simply offered that secretive little smile he gives when he is quietly happy.  Tony wanted to win; he wanted to see that smile finally directed at him. Because that would be proof that he had won, not that Probie’s smile meant anything to him…

With that in mind, Tony began to explore the store, digits first thumbing through the large boxes of comics. Comic books weren‘t going to win; Tony didn’t know which ones McGee had or liked, and frankly they all looked alike. Ditto for the Japanese-anime toys, although he did take a moment to admire a chesty cat-eared figurine. Porn was also considered for a second, but Tony knew McGee would simply get flustered and wouldn’t use it. About to give up and resort to random computer parts, Tony’s eye was drawn to a bin near the cosplay outfits. Rifling through the fabrics, the agent suddenly let out a snicker, pulling a piece of bright red material out from the others. A wicked gleam sparkled in Tony’s eyes as he continued to chortle, making his way to the cashier with his prize.
“Let’s see you beat this, Abby.”

--------------

Glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time, Tony squirmed impatiently in his seat. Only five more minutes left in the workday. Of course, Master Boss Gibbs wouldn’t let them quit early, even for McGee’s birthday. Hell, Gibbs wouldn’t let them quit early if he kneeled over. Entertained by the thought of a zombie Gibbs giving orders, Tony almost missed the boss’s dismissive signal.

“Aha!,” Tony crowed, immediately reaching down to grab a small box from his desk drawer and noisily rolling his chair over to McGee’s desk. The junior agent gave him an odd look, although he certainly knew the cause of the older agent’s excitement.

“Wow, you sure can move out of here fast, Tony,” McGee remarked, raising a brow at Tony’s smirk. The younger man clicked a few keys, turning in his chair slightly to face Tony as his computer screen became black.

“Ha! First of all, I’m not out the door, am I? Secondly, I shut down my computer twenty minutes ago,” Tony shot back. The statement promptly earned him a slap on the head from a bypassing Gibbs and brought a stifled laugh from Ziva.

For the most part, McGee’s birthday had been relatively uneventful, which the junior agent was thankful for. Birthday treats, boring paperwork on cold cases, and yes, even the embarrassing picture DiNozzo had put on his screensaver was preferred over having to chase some suicidal murder maniac on his birthday. Now was the fun part, though, and McGee couldn’t hold back a small smile at Tony’s contagious eagerness.

“He’s just eager to lose, that’s all,” Ziva murmured, also making her way over to McGee’s desk and dropping her present on a stack of papers. McGee eyed the gift warily, for the Israeli had the uncanny ability to make gift-giving seem dangerous. As Tony protested, Ziva crossed her arms over her chest, cutting off his reply, “Oh come on, we all know that you and Abby fight like cat and mice to see who gives McGee the best present. You really couldn’t be more obvious!”

“Er, the term is actually “fight like cats and dogs, my dear,” a gravelly voice piped up. Doctor Mallard, the beloved medical examiner, gave a friendly nod to the others as he made his way towards the bullpen, carefully placing his gift beside Ziva’s.

“Did you know, that particular phrase was coined in---” Ducky began, turning to lecture the uninformed and unimpressed Israeli.

“Open your gifts, McGee,” Gibbs interrupted, throwing a package at the junior agent. McGee managed to catch it, and delicately placed it beside the growing pile. The younger man caught Tony’s evil gleam as he straightened the boxes, knowing that DiNozzo was about to make fun of his orderly ways.

“You’re so anal, McProbie! Go on, open them,” Tony urged. McGee glared in response, staring pointedly at the other’s hands, “Aren’t you going to give me your present?” he shot back, watching as Tony made a face.

“Well, I suppose, since you’re Mr. McGreedy,” Tony replied, handing over a sloppily wrapped box with a dinosaur print. McGee couldn’t help but snort at the handiwork, wondering if Tony had wrapped it himself or paid a neighbor kid to do it for him. Tony’s words had stung slightly, though, and the younger agent eyed his partner. It had taken quite a while to get used to DiNozzo’s ways, and McGee still had painful memories of his probie days when DiNozzo and Todd had tricked him into doing all the humiliating, dirty work. As time progressed, and as he began to stand up for himself a little, McGee learned to trust both the childish exterior and the suppressed serious side that was Anthony DiNozzo. Tony could be cruel, but he was both an excellent agent and loyal friend, and the gentle verbal sparing pattern they had fallen into was comforting, even if it was predictable and petty. Sometimes it was hard, though, to distinguish the joking act from the true person; McGee had no wish to fall into a real argument with DiNozzo today.

McGee relaxed as Tony met his questioning eyes with a smirk, giving a nod and reaching for Ziva’s present.

“Abby’s on her way up,” Gibbs commented blandly, just as the elevator door dinged and opened, revealing the black-clad forensic scientist. Tony sat up slightly, eyeing the rather small envelope in Abby’s hands.

“Checking out the competition, I see,” Abby smirked, waving the envelope in front of Tony’s eyes before handing it to the awaiting agent. Setting it aside, McGee continued to carefully tug at the paper of Ziva’s present, giving the customary smile and “thank you’s” for his gift--a thick stack of typewriter paper and a threat not to include her in his next book. Gibbs and Ducky’s presents were also dutifully opened and given their appreciation.

It was down to the final two. McGee eyed the two remaining: the ebony envelope with a shiny skeleton sticker and Tony‘s dinosaur box. For a brief moment, McGee considered telling DiNozzo and Abby that he would open their presents later in the solace of his apartment, but knew he wouldn’t make it to the parking garage alive. Funny how they seemed to derive more enjoyment from his birthday than he did. The probie’s hand wavered over the two for a second as he hesitated, but deftly plucked up Abby’s envelope.

“Ow! He’s just saving the best for last,” Tony muttered in response to a rather painful jab Abby gave him.

McGee’s curious façade brightened as he pulled out two stubs of paper, eager orbs scanning the lettering before glancing up and waving the tickets for the rest of the team to see.

“Comic Con tickets!” he crowed, which only brought a round of blank looks; “It’s a convention…you can meet a lot of famous people, like cartoonists and--” McGee started to explain.

“That’s great, McGeek. Sounds like a lot of five year olds will be there, so at least you can mingle with your own,” Tony shot back. The older agent felt a slight twinge of regret as McGee’s happiness visibly dwindled.

“I got you two, so you can take someone with you,” Abby interjected, ignoring Tony‘s comments.

“Thanks, Abs. I’m sure Sarah would like to go,” McGee replied softly. Abby snorted and turned her head to face Tony, the ebon ponytails just barely missing the agent’s eyes. The mascara-laden orbs narrowed dangerously at Tony, and suddenly the older man regretted his comment very much.

“Maybe you should take Tony, so he can mingle with those of his intelligence level!” Abby said. “Ha! I’m sure he’d like dressing up as a fairy, too,” Ziva added.

“McGamer’s some kind of elf,” Tony protested, “And leave me out of this!” McGee snorted at the banter, pulling the last wrapped object into his lap. Tony’s present wasn’t very heavy, in fact, as he shook it slightly, it felt to McGee like there was nothing in it. “That would be just like Tony,” he thought to himself, “to give me an empty box.”

Tony watched McGee’s face with sparkling eyes, taking in the range of expressions darting across the probie’s face as he inspected the object inside. Curiosity was first, followed by confusion then comprehension, before McGee’s face began to burn. McGee’s bowed head rose to meet Tony’s gaze, his own eyes torn between amusement and embarrassment.

“Underwear!?” Ziva blurted out as McGee reluctantly held up the article of clothing for the rest of the team to see. “Not just underwear, Ziva Dah-veed, Flash skivvies!” Tony returned, smirking widely. “Flash? The superhero?” Tony continued, seeing the Israeli’s uncomprehending look, “His costume is red, see, just like the underwear, and his trademark’s a lightening bolt because he runs so fast. Thus, Flash underwear..it’s red, and has the lightening bolt right where his pe-”

“Uh, thank you Tony!” McGee interrupted loudly, stuffing the garment back in the box. “Oh hey, look, a gift card too,” the agent continued, desperate to steer the conversation away from his anatomy.

“Now I know why people say ‘grin and bury it,’” Ziva remarked, watching as McGee hastily began to deposit his gifts in his bag to take home. “It’s ‘grin and bear it,’” Ducky chided gently.

“Oh no, I’d rather not see McGee bare it,” Ziva returned, skulking back to her own desk to retrieve her backpack. “See you tomorrow,” she called out to the others, tossing a wave and disappearing in the elevator, “Have a good one, McGee!”.

 “Well? Which present did you like best?” Tony exclaimed, giving McGee a interrogation-style gaze. McGee hesitated, gaze flickering back and forth between Abby and Tony’s faces. They both looked so eager and confident; McGee didn’t have the heart to hurt either one.

“It’s really hard to say, guys. I mean, they’re both really…” McGee began, backing up slightly as the two advanced towards him. “Tony’s,” he squeaked, giving in to their demanding expressions, “I like Tony’s…”.  Abby scoffed, but Tony held McGee’s gaze, hard orbs searching the probie’s face for a lie. But Mr. Timothy “Honest Abe” McGee couldn’t tell a fib, not at least without everyone knowing. Tony’s eyes relaxed as his face split into a wide grin, pumping a fist into the air.

“Victory! Read ‘em and weep, Scuito!” Tony boasted, performing a short little dance where he stood. McGee shook his head at the other’s playful actions, nudging Tony aside. Making his way towards the elevator, McGee was forced to hold the door open as Tony scrambled in behind him. As the door slowly dinged shut, McGee suddenly found himself under Tony’s scrutiny once more.

“You know, I‘m going to expect you to catch all the bad guys from now on and not lag behind, McGaitless,” Tony taunted, “you really liked mine?” he added all in the same breath.

“Yes, DiNozzo,” McGee replied, donning the slightly exasperated look the older man had seen numerous times before, “You’ve won, ok? Could you let it go? This really shouldn’t be about you all the time, you know…” he added, swallowing some of the bitterness welling up in his throat.

“I want to know why,” Tony pressed on as they descended, either missing or ignoring the other man’s uneasiness. McGee hesitated, but unfortunately for him, Tony was positioned between him and the door.

“Even though you make fun of it, you get me something I like, not need, like Ziva and boss does. Your presents have gotten better over the years because…you’re learning who I am. My interests, and…all that,” McGee replied softly, “It shows that you…” Here, the man faltered, not wanting to press his luck, not wishing to hear DiNozzo deny what he was about to say.

“Listen? Care, probie?” Tony’s head cocked as he stared back at the other man, “But so does Abby. You two are like nerd-twins. Why’d you pick me over her?”

“I just…did. No particular reason,” McGee lied. Tony frowned and placed his hand up against the elevator frame as the door creaked open, thwarting McGee’s exit. The younger agent stepped up, but Tony didn’t falter, even as McGee entered his personal space. McGee wanted to breathe deeply and inhale the other’s scent, but didn’t dare, instead choosing to straighten his posture so that he was standing eye-to-eye with the other agent.

Realizing that McGee was coming alarmingly closer, and not at all used to looking straight at the probie, Tony jerked his head upwards, eyeing down at his teammate. McGee’s determination wavered as he changed gears, turning his head and pressing his lips against Tony’s stubbly cheek.

A strange bubbling sound filled the elevator, but Tony was only dimly conscious of his laughter. McGee backed away from the other, only managing to stare back at Tony for a few seconds before dropping his gaze. Tony had to give McGee credit for standing his ground, though; if someone had told him that McGee would kiss him, he would have expected the younger man to pull a classic kiss-and-run gag. Perhaps Tim was more fearless than he thought…

“Did birthday boy want a kiss? ‘Cause that wasn’t a kiss,” Tony declared as his laughter subsided. The agent moved towards his elevator partner as if he was stalking a skittish animal, but the other only eyed him warily.  It was not so different, Tony realized as he gently nudged McGee‘s chin up, kissing a man rather than a woman. At least this time he was aware of the fact. McGee’s eyes were filled with disbelief and a small glimmer of hope, and Tony held that image in his mind as he own orbs closed, closing the space between them and bringing his lips down on the other’s soft pair.

It was a chaste kiss, unusual for Tony, but not entirely unwelcome. McGee pressed back ardently, letting out a soft groan as they parted. Tony’s mind raced for something to say as he stared at his partner, not quite able to collect his thoughts. Sensing the other man’s uncertainty, McGee gave him an impish smile, patting Tony on the shoulder as he ducked under the arm still propped against the elevator door.

“See ya tomorrow, Tony! Oh, hey,” he called out over his shoulder, “maybe if you’re good, I might show off my new underwear sometime!”

Anthony D. DiNozzo had won. What he had won, he wasn’t quite sure, but it was proving to be…interesting.