Agents McGee, David and Gibbs had just returned to the bullpen from their training session in the gym when they saw Director Vance coming down the stairs with a smartly dressed man and woman.
"This is Agent DiNozzo's team," said Vance, "People, I'd like you to meet Mr Arnold Gillespie and Ms Catherine Mills from DuPont Aeronautics."
Ms Mills cast an appraising eye over the MCRT and sniffed a little disparagingly. She spoke, not quite inaudibly, to her colleague,
"Another dead end. One too old, one too weedy and one too female. I thought a federal agency might be a better bet."
The special agents all bristled in their own ways: they weren't used to being written off quite so quickly. Gibbs raised a sardonic eyebrow, Ziva reached for a hidden knife and McGee's fingers itched to start hacking into DuPont Aeronautics. At that moment, however, the fourth member of the team made his entrance. Dressed just in his shorts, with hair still damp from his shower and a towel draped round his shoulders, Agent DiNozzo ran the short distance from the elevator to his filing cabinet and pulled a drawer open,
"Sorry, Boss, forgot to bring a clean shirt down with me. Won't be a moment."
"Well," said an appreciative female voice, "that's more like it." There was a distinct purr to the voice.
Tony froze for a moment and then turned round in bewilderment and saw a statuesque blonde stranger undressing him with her eyes. Acutely aware that very little undressing was needed, Tony tried to make the skimpy towel cover as much of his chest as possible while trying to flatten his spiky hair at the same time.
"This is Agent DiNozzo," said Director Vance in the driest of his dry voices. "Agent DiNozzo, meet Arnold Gillespie and Catherine Mills from DuPont Aeronautics."
"Er, nice to meet you," said Tony, struggling to work out how to shake hands and keep the towel over his chest at the same time.
"Oh, believe me, the pleasure is ours." Strangely, it was Gillespie who said this, "I think you may be the answer to our prayers. Cat, I think the search is over."
"Oohhh, yes, definitely, Arnie," came the cognac rich voice.
Tony wondered if he had suffered a concussion when brought down unexpectedly in the ring by McGee. He would have checked his head for bumps but still had a strange compulsion to keep his chest covered. He backed a bit further behind his desk and threw an imploring look at Gibbs. Gibbs sighed and decided it was time to go in to bat for his hapless senior field agent.
"Care to explain, Director? We have work to do." (This was something of a lie. The US Navy had been impeccably behaved for the last month which was why the MCRT had been doing PT rather than chasing villains).
The Director motioned to the guests to explain. Gillespie glanced at Cat, saw she was still drinking in the sight of the dishevelled agent, and took the floor.
"Agent DiNozzo," he began.
"Special Agent DiNozzo," interrupted Gibbs.
"Of course, Special Agent DiNozzo, you will be delighted to know that you won the Puma Aftershave contest to win a flight into space."
Tony's jaw dropped open and he released his tight grasp of the towel which flopped open revealing a few more inches of hairy chest. Cat sighed appreciatively. Tony jumped, grabbed hold again and sat down at his desk.
"I've done what?"
"You won the Puma Aftershave contest to win a flight into space," repeated Cat.
Tony appeared rather offended.
"I think there's been some mistake. Do I look like the sort of person who would wear Puma aftershave? Are you sure you don't mean McManly there?"
Gillespie rummaged in his briefcase and drew out a sheet of paper.
"No, there's no mistake. Agent DiNozzo, Navy Superhero is what it says on the entry form. We had some trouble tracking you down."
"Navy Superhero?" said McGee, still a little irritated by the implication that he was the type of man who would wear Puma aftershave. "Really?"
With his towel safely pinned in place by his desk, Tony felt it was safe to let go of it to feel his head for lumps. He must have landed more heavily than he thought when Tim had, momentarily, taken him by surprise. Gibbs realised that Tony was completely bewildered. He reached out and snatched the piece of paper from Gillespie's hand.
"That's not DiNozzo's writing," he said, "someone's playing a trick on you, Gillespie".
"I didn't say that Agent, er .. Special Agent DiNozzo filled the form in," said Gillespie.
"No," joined in Cat, "someone bought him a bottle of Puma aftershave and entered on his behalf. That was within the rules."
"One of your lady friends bought you Puma?" asked Ziva, not liking the way Cat was sidling up to her partner.
"Yes," said Gillespie, "Lily Mercer."
"Oh, God," said Tony, and let his head fall forward on to his desk, "Ouch," he said as he found he really did have a sore spot on his head. He stayed down, hoping that this would all go away.
"Lily Mercer?" asked Ziva a little stiffly, "I do not remember hearing you talk of her."
As a stifled groan was all the reply she got, Gibbs came to the rescue again.
"Lily Mercer is DiNozzo's seven year old god-daughter from California."
"Who thinks that her godfather is a hero. Part of the competition was to give a reason why someone deserved a flight into space. Lily said that her 'uncle' Tony deserved to go because 'he looked after the little people and looked handsome while he did it'."
"And that won?" asked Tim incredulously, his writing sensibilities seriously offended.
Gillespie had the grace to look embarrassed. "Well, no, there were other better entries but the makers of the aftershave wanted a certain type of person to win and let's just say that when we met the other entries they didn't quite make the grade."
"Too old, too weedy or too female?" suggested Gibbs menacingly. Cat nodded brightly; she might be a corporate whizz but she didn't seem to have much sense of self-preservation. Director Vance decided it was time to act in a directorial way and bring things to a conclusion.
"The Secretary of the Navy thinks this will be excellent publicity for NCIS. Agent DiNozzo, you have been given seven days extra leave to do the necessary training and for the flight itself. Mr Gillespie, Ms Mills, you will have our full co-operation."
He nodded magisterially and swept back up the stairs. Gillespie drew out a bundle of papers from his briefcase and laid them beside the tousled head still resting on the desk.
"Your joining instructions, training schedule and diet plan, Agent DiNozzo ... er Special Agent DiNozzo. You start on Monday in New Mexico."
He pulled on Cat's arm to drag her away. She turned reluctantly and said,
"Is Lily a photogenic child?"
Tony raised his head and said in a proud god fatherly tone,
"She's very cute, why?"
"We thought it would make a good photo-op. The adoring child gazing up at her Navy Superhero godfather."
Tony's head hit the desk again, "Ooww. I must stop doing that."
The visitors finally left. Silence filled the squad room. Then came the sound of Tim's fingers flying over his keyboard,
"Tony, I'm just finding my PowerPoint presentation about the 'pay to go into space' program. You'll enjoy it."
Tony got up very slowly, reached into the filing cabinet and retrieved his clean shirt.
"Going to get changed, Boss. Hey, McAstronaut, who makes the spacesuits?"
NCISNCISNCIS
Over the next few days Tony discovered that McGee was not just obsessed with jetpacks – going into space came a very close second. If his hedge fund had not withered and died, Tim had planned on buying a ticket on one of the new commercial space flights. His spaceflight PowerPoint presentation was very detailed. Tony tried a few humorous Aliens and Star Trek references but failed to divert him. He would have continued but didn't want to admit to an encyclopaedic knowledge of Sci Fi films and TV.
'Fortunately', in Tony's view anyway, little Lily had had an allergic reaction to some strawberries which had brought her out in hives meaning that she was not considered 'photogenic' enough to be pictured with the Superhero. Cat had suggested bringing in a substitute but Tony had vetoed that idea – he thought it amazing enough that Lily loved him and didn't want to risk posing with a less perceptive child.
Abby was over the moon at the thought of Tony becoming the first Federal Agent in space and was busy thinking of a number of experiments he could take with him on the flight. Tony didn't have the heart to tell her that there was a strict limit on the amount of stuff he could take with him and that he didn't think he'd be able to squeeze in ten test-tubes, fifty pipettes and a liter of assorted chemicals.
Ducky was also keen for him to monitor the physical and psychological effects of weightlessness and to keep a detailed journal of how he felt.
"You know, Anthony," he mused, "from the beginning of time, mankind has pondered what it would be like to touch the heavens, the first astronauts and cosmonauts were much moved by the sight of the earth hanging like a green jewel in the skies. I envy you the opportunity to get that view."
Tony nodded sagely and tried not to feel shallow for having been excited enough at the possibility of floating weightlessly, turning somersaults and working out how to use the bathroom in a spacesuit. Gibbs didn't offer an opinion but Tony sometimes caught him looking at him in a measuring sort of way.
Monday came and Tony went to New Mexico for an initial training and assessment session. He returned two days later and came into work looking despondent.
"What is wrong, Tony?" asked Ziva, "you look a little down in the moose."
"Down in the mouth," corrected McGee, "she's right, Tony, what's up?"
"Not me," sighed Tony.
"What you mean?" asked Gibbs gruffly.
"Turns out that I can't go after all." said Tony.
"Too weedy ... or too old?" asked Ziva with a touch of ice.
Tony drew himself up to his full height, "Neither. Turns out that my lung capacity isn't good enough ... my super heroic bout with pneumonic plague rules me out from being the first Federal Agent in space."
"Well, actually," said McGee, unable to resist being accurate, "it wasn't being a superhero that got you the plague, it was opening an envelope that didn't have your name on it."
"OK, OK," said Tony a little testily, "but I bet you're glad it was me who breathed that noxious powder in and not you. And it was pretty super heroic to survive."
Tim was fair-minded and realised that he was relieved not to have opened the envelope and also that Tony must be devastated at losing the chance to go into space.
"You're right, I'm sorry, Tony, that was very insensitive of me."
Tony beamed at him and gripped him by the shoulders,
"That's my McProbie! And now, you need to sit down."
Tim looked at him suspiciously. A Tony vibrating with so much excitement was not always good news. He sat down.
"Well, McNeil Armstrong, I have persuaded DuPont Aeronautics and the lovely Cat that I have a worthy substitute waiting in the wings."
Tim just gazed at him in mystification.
"I mean you, Major Tom. You are going to boldly go where no Federal Agent has gone before, you are going to take Abby's experiments into space and have metaphysical discussions with Ducky on your return, you are going to see the stars by which the Boss navigates his boats."
Tim opened and closed his mouth, words seemed to fail him. Finally his tongue caught up with his brain,
"Me?"
"Yes, you. As you once pointed out, we are exactly the same height so my space suit will fit you. Director Vance and SecNav have approved it all. So pack up your PowerPoint presentation and get on your way to New Mexico. Your flight awaits you!"
NCISNCISNCIS
Seven days later the MCRT flew down to New Mexico to watch the take-off of the first commercial space flight. Abby, (with a 'We love you Timmy' banner), Ducky, Jimmy and Ziva made their way out to the viewing platform. Gibbs caught Tony's arm and pulled him back as he was about to join them.
"Boss?" said Tony, "we're going to miss the take-off."
"I read the fitness specifications for the spaceflights," said Gibbs.
"Yes ...?"
"There wasn't anything about lung capacity. There's an eighty two year old on that flight. You telling me that my Senior Field Agent is less fit than an eighty two year old?"
"No, Boss."
"Then why aren't you on that flight? I got the feeling you were beginning to look forward to it."
"I was but then I saw how excited McGee was about it and how Abby wanted the experiments done and how much Ducky would have liked to go and well, it seemed a bit selfish if I went. Ouch."
Gibbs had delivered a head slap. Then he stroked Tony's head.
"Atta boy."
"Thanks, Boss," said Tony, " and anyway, I've got another thirteen godchildren so who knows what else they'll get me into?"
They went to join the rest of the team and helped Abby unfurl the banner which she hoped would be big enough for Tim to see from space. There was a live sound link to the space craft. As it launched, Gibbs' was almost sure he heard Tim cry out,
"Boss, I think I've changed my mind!"
NCISNCIS
AN: Obviously I don't own them! There's a competition in the UK, run by an aftershave company, to win a place on a commercial space flight and I couldn't help but think of Tony winning it. Thanks to Scouse for the suggestion of Tim going instead.