Ok, so this is not meant to be taken seriously at all. I reference writers of our fanfic community and their stories. Hopefully no one gets offended, it's all meant to be complimentary. And I poke fun at myself as well, so all is fair. Most of it, anyway... :)

"Finally, I thought they'd never arrive."

Tony looked on with mild irritation as the server brought his and McGee's beers, setting them lightly on the table. Tim nodded, lifting the drink into the air of the dark dive bar. Their beers clinked together as Tony cleared his throat for a toast.

"To another completed assignment. And boy, was it a good one!"

McGee shot him a look, and countered with his own toast.

"To never being able to look Gibbs in the eyes again."

"Cheers."

Tony smirked, then took a deep sip, as did his probie. Resting the glasses down again, Tony leaned onto the table, his hands in the crooks of his elbows.

"You know, it's the name of the game. It's what we do, McGoo."

"I know," Tim sighed, "it's just that sometimes these assignments seem a little… farfetched. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah, can't disagree with that. I mean, it's not easy being a vampire!"

Tony took another drink as Tim chuckled.

"Tell me about it. Werewolf isn't either. But, I guess we're meant for it. We were blessed; or cursed with the talents of being malleable."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"It means moldable. Changeable. It's like being undercover, I think."

McGee noticed Tony's lips curl into a sarcastic smile, so he corrected himself.

"Though I've never really been undercover, realistically speaking. But the assignment where I helped Fornell and the FBI was fun. You remember, right? The one where I went undercover as that scientist?"

McGee's eyes sparkled, knowing this would strike a chord with Tony, who practically slammed his drink down.

"That's because you got to get with Ziva! I mean, come on! Ziva? You and Abby are normal. Predictable even."

McGee laughed and argued back.

"But you're always with Ziva! Almost every time! It's good to mix things up a little. Which one of the Higher-Ups came up with that one again?"

"Precious Pup."

"Well, remind me to write Precious Pup a thank you letter."

Tony snorted.

"You and Ziva are the most unorthodox couple ever."

"Well, I enjoyed myself."

Tony took another sip, chuckling to himself.

"Never gonna happen McGoo."

Tim sighed, taking a drink.

"Well, someone's gotta take the assignments. But, whenever I browse them, it's always, Tony and Ziva, Tony and Ziva, Tony and Ziva!"

"Tony and Kate." The older agent interjected.

"Tony and Ducky."

DiNozzo spat out his mouthful of beer, gaining several dirty looks from the other bar patrons and the bartender.

"Sorry! My friend here has no tact!" He called out.

Tim laughed and shook his head as the other patrons returned to whatever it was that they were doing.

"If it weren't for Higher-Up Smackalicious, Ziva and I would practically never get together."

"Chin up, Probie, we gotta make our rounds."

"I guess."

"I mean, why can't it be like boom! Tony and Tim respond to a bomb threat at a lingerie football game? Or Victoria's Secret slumber party? While driving Ferraris with James Bond and King Leonidas from 300? Oooh, and Indiana Jones!"

"I'll write a memo to the Editor about that one."

"That guy's an ass."

"Too true. But he's just doing his job."

"Fair enough. But I mean, some of our assignments are totally bogus. Fun, but bogus. Remember when we were on the Special Ops mission in China? Then Borneo? The one where you almost killed me? Which Higher-Up was that?"

"SirPapillon."

"Ah, I remember now. I mean, come on! Can you really see us with assault rifles?"

Tim chuckled.

"Not really, but we did it. Got with Ziva in that one, too."

"Okay, seriously Probie, you're starting to irritate me now."

McGee's smile widened.

"I had fun."

"We got tortured."

Tony's face was like stone.

"But at least we weren't alone! When- oh, hold on, the Editor is calling."

Tony groaned as McGee pulled his phone from his pocket, spoke a few words, then hung up.

"Alright, we're needed in the green room."

"Did he say what the assignment was? Or who came up with it?"

"No, just told us to meet him."

"Is everyone else there?"

"Yup."

"Alright, chug, Probie."

The two men finished their drinks, paid, then headed to the green room.

Unlike the name, it wasn't green. In fact, it was a large warehouse with old furniture strewn about in a haphazard circle around a large coffee table in the middle. Lamps stood lazily about by the comfortable leather couches, which were currently occupied by the team. Ziva was chatting with Ducky, both drinking tea, as Palmer and Gibbs had an uncharacteristically comfortable conversation. Abby was texting, but immediately threw the phone down when she saw McGee and Tony. Jimmy lit a cigarette, then waved at the two men approaching.

"Hey guys. Boss." Tony called as he and McGee took seats in their respective leather recliners, with the latter of the two avoiding Gibbs' eyes. His boss did the same.

"Lads! Good to see you again. What do you suppose Mr. Editor has in store for us this fine evening?" Ducky asked politely, smiling wide.

"I hope it's not a deathfic. I hate dying. It actually hurts."

"Too true, Probie. You think the Higher-Ups would get that. Killing us over and over actually does hurt. And it's ego bruising!"

"Your ego needs to be lowered a few begs, Tony."

"It's pegs, Ziva, and my ego is just fine where it is."

Ziva snorted a chuckle, causing Tony to stick his tongue out in response.

"Okay okay okay okay! So, money down everyone!"

Abby hopped up, her pigtails flying as everyone began to dig for their wallets.

"Think third time's a charm, eh McGoo?"

"Seriously, I think your cheating Tony. You've won the last two times. That never happens. The Editor is giving you information."

"I must agree with Timothy, it is quite odd."

Gibbs simply smiled and tossed a weathered 100 dollar bill onto the coffee table, then picked up his bourbon jar.

"100? Come on Boss!"

"Then don't bet, DiNozzo." Gibbs responded, crossing his arms over his USMC sweatshirt.

The group collectively groaned, and began dropping 100 dollar bills, or increments of that, onto the table, then picking up notepads and pencils. They all glanced mischievously at one another as they began scribbling names onto the paper.

"So what are you thinking, Gibbs? Me and Abby?" Palmer asked hopefully. Gibbs chuckled and shook his head.

"Never gonna happen, Jim."

A downtrodden Jimmy shook his head.

"I hate the Higher-Ups."

"They're not so bad." Tony replied, eyebrows dancing as he winked at Ziva. Everyone gave him a pointed look, including Ziva.

"I'll shut up now."

"If it hasn't happened in ten years, it won't happen now, DiNozzo." Gibbs grumbled.

"Timmy Timmy Timmy! What do you have?"

McGee shrugged, "I was thinking about going with Ducky and Ziva, but I don't think so."

"Our assignments are always enlightening."

"That they are, my dear. That they are. Anthony?"

"Me and Ziva."

"DiNozzo, you can't always pick that!" Abby glared at the senior agent.

"But it happens like, 50% of the time! That's how I keep winning all your money!"

Gibbs threw his pencil at Tony, who ducked behind McGee. The pencil hit both of them.

"Boss?"

"Not done yet."

"Ok, Abby?"

"Gibbs and Jackson."

"Ooooh good one!" McGee replied. Abby smiled at him, then held out her palm, motioning for Tim to reveal his bet.

"Uuuuh, I got Gibbs and Tony."

"Not bad." Tony nodded, just before McGee added to his bet.

"Double down. Slash."

Gibbs glared at Tim, who shrugged, chuckling as he tossed another 100 dollars into the heaping pile of cash.

"We were slash last time Boss. Just cause I bet it, doesn't mean it will happen."

"And if it does…"

"I'll log you onto your email for a week."

Gibbs nodded, satisfied with the answer.

"So, Duck?"

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, I always enjoy Timothy and I enjoying each other's company. That is my bet."

Tim sighed.

"But, Duck, usually when it's you and me, something terrible happens to me! Then you're there with your wit and wisdom to help me through it."

"And it usually means you hate the rest of us for a while." Tony shot.

"It's true. The Higher-Up, Enthusiastic Fish, assigns those to you, Tim." Jimmy replied, nodding succinctly as he flicked his cigarette.

"I must interject. While the Higher-Up, Enthusiastic Fish; interesting name mind you, does seem to have a certain flair for our Timothy's trials and tribulations, I am always fond of the personal growth associated with those assignments."

"Yeah, that's true. I've learned alot." McGee nodded.

"Jim, what you got? You and Abbs?" Gibbs asked. Jimmy made a frustrated sound.

"No, I'm gonna go with me and McGee."

Ducky nodded.

"Quite logical. Alright, Ziva?"

The Israeli cleared her throat before speaking.

"Gibbs and Abby."

"Nice."

"Might be a winner."

Tony and McGee replied. All eyes turned to Gibbs, but before he could speak, they heard a near scream from one of the rooms in the corner of the warehouse.

"YOU'RE MAKING ME AND GIBBS DO WHAT?"

The group laughed uproariously, except for Gibbs, as Director Vance stormed out of the room towards the chairs and plopped heavily into one.

"Palmer, I need a cigarette. Gibbs, I need bourbon."

Jimmy and Gibbs handed over said objects, then turned their gaze at the sound of a door closing and feet approaching. Tony stood and began clapping sarcastically for the Editor's entrance as Director Vance took a deep drink of bourbon.

"Oh sit down, Tony." The Editor spoke with equal sarcasm to Tony's display. The agent laughed, then sat down again.

The Editor was a middle aged man, dressed in a sharp pair of jeans, dress shoes, a blazer, and an Irish racing cap. Since the assignments began nearly ten years ago, Ducky couldn't stress enough at how 'trendy' the young man was, which the Editor took with humility. The Editor was a good person, and as Tim had said earlier, he was just doing his job; providing assignments. And, completed assignments meant money for the group.

"Look, Vance, I was just kidding." The Editor, still chuckling, spoke apologetically.

"I don't care. The fact that you dared to put that image in my head is inexcusable."

"What were you gonna have them do Mr. Editor!" Abby squealed.

The Editor laughed.

"I think if I said that out loud, Vance and Gibbs would kill me right here.

"Damn straight we would." Vance concluded, giving Gibbs a nod. The team leader returned the gesture, pulled out his knife and placed it on the table. The Editor gulped.

"Ok, so it's not Vance. That much is clear. So, everyone, what are the bets?"

The group passed their folded papers around until the Editor had all of them in his hands. He rearranged them compulsively, then cleared his throat.

"Alright, it is not… Abby and Gibbs."

Ziva threw a quarter at the Editor, who laughed, ducking as it narrowly missed him.

"It's not… Jimmy and McGee."

Jimmy groaned and lit another cigarette, tossing his feet up onto the table.

"It's also not Ziva and Tony."

"What? It's always me and Ziva!" Tony bellowed as Ziva laughed and made a pouting face at him.

"Shut it, David."

"Alright, alright everyone, settle down. So, Jimmy, Ziva, and Tony have lost, leaving McGee, Ducky, Gibbs, and Abby. But, Abby is also not the winner. It's not Gibbs and Jackson, although I personally would have liked that to happen."

Abby huffed and crossed her arms.

"Also, it is not Gibbs and Tony. Sorry, Tim."

McGee leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, speaking through his fingers.

"That, would have been hilarious."

His comment was met with two pencils flying from Gibbs' and Tony's hands.

"Where'd you get another pencil boss?"

The Editor continued.

"And it is not, McGee and Ducky. Sorry guys, would have liked that one too. Gibbs is the winner. But, he only gets half the pot. He picked himself, and he is one of the main characters."

Gibbs smiled, raising his jar of bourbon to the group, downed it, then raked half the pile of money to his side of the coffee table as the group groaned. Once he had collected his portion of the cash, he looked up to the Editor.

"So, what's it gonna be this time?"

The Editor cleared his throat.

"It's, well… ummm a crossover."

The crew began whispering amongst themselves as Tony blurted, "Walking Dead, Walking Dead, Walking Dead… or something tropical, like Hawaii 5-0. Please! Oooh Saving Private Ryan! No! Dear John! Did I say that our loud? I meant Die Hard."

McGee spoke absentmindedly.

"I think Sherlock Holmes with Robert Downey Junior would be fun."

Everyone glanced at him and Ziva smiled.

"Yes it would…"

"Alright guys, alright. The crossover is…"

The group leaned in towards the Editor. He loved that dramatic pause, knowing that his words would determine the next few weeks for the NCIS group.

"Twilight."

Six jaws dropped to the floor, and Abby squealed, imagining the possibilities this could mean.

"You've got to be joking me. I'd take Harry Potter over that!" Tony responded incredulously, for which McGee shot him a look.

"Hey, last crossover with Harry Potter was awesome! You have to admit playing quidditch was fun."

Tony shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right." Then Tony laughed. "It really was."

Tim smiled, then asked the question they were all thinking.

"So, who are the two main characters?"

The Editor pulled a folded stack of papers from his pocket. The script.

"It's uh…"

His eyes met Gibbs, then dropped to the floor.

"You better be joking me…" Gibbs growled. The Editor sighed.

"Gibbs and Edward."

"Baaaaaaaaah hahahahahaha." Tony erupted; at least until Gibbs leapt from his chair and smacked the back of his head. Hard.

"No vampire jokes. Got it Boss."

The rest of NCIS simply stared in disbelief, not sure whether to tease or keep their silence. The Editor continued.

"But ummm, well there's another slash." He could feel his audience tense up. Then, they all heard yelling, and a door being opened.

"Editor! You have got to be joking! I'm more than half his age! I could be his father!"

"Fornell?" McGee nearly choked the word out. Tobias Fornell walked over slowly, taking a seat next to Gibbs, whom he addressed.

"You hear-."

"Yep."

"And we're going to-"

"Yep."

"With those little-"

"I got it, Tobias."

Both older men sat back, mirroring each other as they rubbed their eyes, fearful for what the next few weeks would bring.

Then, out of nowhere, Ducky perked up with an overexcited tone.

"Well, I've always wanted to see the Pacific Northwest!"

"SHUT UP!"

I hope you liked it! Again, I hope I didn't offend anyone. Any author I've referenced above have work that I greatly admire. Again, it's meant as a compliment. Aside from Twilight; haven't read any Twilight crossovers, so just shooting in the dark there. Cheers!