Tim was typing up case notes when suddenly, his world went black.
"Guess who."
He didn't need to see to recognize that voice to identify the hands were covering his eyes, and he smiled..
"Hi Abby."
"Aww.." Her hands vanished and her lips curled in a mock pout. "How did you know it was me?"
"You mean besides that gunpowder perfume you wear?"
"An excellent point, McGee." Turning to one side, she picked up a package wrapped in paper adorned in skulls and handed it to him. "Here's a present from me to you."
"For me? Why? It isn't my birthday."
Abby grinned. "Open it."
He weighed the present in his hands, trying to guess what it was. It wasn't soft, and it was too heavy to be a video game. Where Abby would tear into the present with both hands, McGee was careful, opening it along an edge, and pulling out the nondescript white box. When he opened the box to find his old paper shredder, he fixed Abby with a confused look that made her smile wider.
"It just looks like your old shredder. I fixed it. Now it's silent, so you can write all night long without driving your neighbors crazy."
He laughed, shaking his head at Abby's ingenuity. "Thank you Abby. I love it."
She swept him up into a hug. "I'm so proud of you. You made a career out of your hobby." McGee blushed a little.
"It's not a career yet. I only wrote one book."
"But you're going to write another one, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, but that's not the..." Abby quickly interjected. "Then it's a career."
"What is a career?" Gibbs asked, coffee in hand as he appeared out of nowhere. Passing by DiNozzo's desk, he slapped him in the back of the head to wake him from his nap. Tony jerked upright, blinking repeatedly under the fluorescent lights of the bullpen.
"McGee's making a career out of writing, Gibbs. Wouldn't you like to make a career out of your hobbies, like building boats?"
Gibbs took a drink of his coffee to hide the hint of a smile. "I don't think there's a market for boats that never get finished, Abbs."
"You know what I mean...doing what you love and getting paid for it." Abby wasn't about to let Gibbs off the hook that easily. "If it was Tony, he would be a movie reviewer."
"I'll have you know I -was- a movie reviewer, in college," Tony added. "My original goal was to get a date with the editor of the school newspaper, Jessica Sinclair. I only had one date with Jessica, but I stuck with the job for two years." He smiled, mentally picturing Jessica briefly before returning his attention to the others. "It was a lot of fun. That's probably where I really started to enjoy them."
"Well, that explains a few things." McGee noted.
Tony shot McGee a look before continuing. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I appreciate hot babes and car crashes as much as the next guy, but when you go to the movies every week, you start appreciating different things. Go ahead, test me.." He grinned.
"Ok, Tony. What do the zombies actually represent in Romero's 'Dawn of the Dead'?" Abby asked, her arms out straight and eyes rolled back in her head.
"That's easy..Consumerism. Look at where it takes place, a shopping mall. After they eliminate the zombies, the survivors start looting the place. Then the biker gang shows up, and they have to fight -them- off for ownership of the mall." He leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. "Give me something hard."
"All right, Tony." Gibbs watched the senior field agent with amusement. "Name four anachronisms in 'The Untouchables'."
"No problem boss. I've seen that movie a hundred times if I've seen it once. Just give me a minute." Tony tapped his fingers on the desk as he thought. It took him a couple of minutes, but finally he was ready. "First, the film is set between 1929-1930, and although you see the Chicago flag several times in the movie, that version of the flag wasn't created yet. Elliot Ness smokes filtered cigarettes, which didn't exist back then, because nobody cared. In the scene at the Canadian border, you can see a 80's style white car. Finally, they use cellophane tape, which hadn't been invented yet."
Gibbs shook his head, and Tony smirked at McGee. "Senior field agent for a reason, McGeek. I notice things." Satisfied with his answer, he turned his attention back to Abby. "It's not like he's coming up with original material, Abby. He just changes a few details, very few actually, and writes about what we do every day. How hard could that be?""
Abby grinned. "I think you're just jealous you didn't think of it first, Tony."
"Hey. I keep telling you guys that the characters are -loosely- based on you." McGee tried to defend himself, wishing for the millionth time he'd thought to get permission before using them as the basis for his characters.
Abby shook her head, ticking details off on her fingers as she made a list. "Tim, my bedroom? Tommy's movie obsession and playboy style? The intimidating, determined, ex-Marine L.J. Tibbs? Come on.." The grin on her face made it obvious that she was just having fun with Tim. He was so cute when he got flustered.
As Tony and Gibbs turned to look at McGee, he wanted nothing more than to change the subject, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. "What about you, Abby? What hobby would you turn into a career if you had the chance?"
"Not your best subject change, McGee, but I'll go with it. I personally love forensics, so I am already making a career out of what I love. But, I'd have to say the two hobbies I'd most like to turn into a career are forensic art and bowling."
"Bowling?" Tony laughed. "No offense Abby, but I can't see you as a professional bowler. Those guys are all middle-aged with huge beer guts."
Abby smirked. "I'm an excellent bowler. I got a perfect score only two games ago. The nuns call me their secret weapon."
McGee had to smile at the mental image. Only Abby would be bowling on a team full of nuns.
"McGee."
"Yeah, boss?"
"Finish writing up the notes on the Fitzsimmons case?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Then go home, all of you. I'll see you back here Monday morning."
"Right." Tony and Abby were halfway to the elevator before McGee picked up his bag.
"McGee..."
He stopped midstep, turning back to see what Gibbs wanted. "Yes?"
"I liked the book." It was funny how those few words from Gibbs meant more than all the positive reviews he'd received and the copies he'd sold.
"Thank you, boss."
"But next time, get permission."
McGee nodded, embarrassed. "I will."
"Good. See you Monday."