Disclaimer: If only.
Summary (explanation?): My sister challenged me to write a story with Tony calling our favorite Probie "McSatan." This ensued.
"Creepy," Tony declared as he walked out of the house. Their dead Navy lieutenant had lived next door to this home, and had been killed inside it. After a thorough search of the premises, the team had found evidence of witchcraft. It appeared that Lieutenant Banks had been killed as some sort of sacrifice.
"Very creepy," Ziva agreed. Then, "This is something that Abby would find fascinating."
"Beyond words," Tony agreed. "Hey, where's McGee?"
"I do not know," Ziva replied, unconcerned. "Perhaps he found something inside."
"I'm sure he found plenty of things inside," Tony said darkly, looking apprehensively back at the door to the house.
Ziva laughed. "You do not think the house has eaten him, do you?" she teased. "Come on, let's go find him."
Tony trailed far behind her as she strode purposefully into the house. They walked around the entire home, clearing it room by room, and found no trace of McGee.
"Where could he be?" A frown crossed Ziva's face as she concentrated. "He has not left the scene, unless he walked away. He is not in the house. He is not in the yard…"
"Hey!" Tony's voice came from the back of the house. The kitchen, if Ziva remembered correctly. She walked quickly to where her partner stood, pointing out a window to a small shed.
Ziva reached out and cuffed Tony's head. "Ow!" he complained. "What the-"
"For not realizing he was there earlier," she said simply, reaching for the back door.
They walked across the yard, approaching the shed. Both froze as they heard the sounds of a struggle from within. A split-second later, their weapons were drawn and they were running to the small building.
"Federal agents!" Tony yelled, sweeping his gun up as Ziva covered the lower angle. McGee sat in the middle of the room, next to a…
"What did you catch?" Tony asked suspiciously, gun now trained near McGee's feet.
"Chickens," McGee said, as if it were to be expected. "Tied up in a sack."
"Why would chickens be tied up in a sack?" Tony asked slowly. Ziva had holstered her gun and was now kneeling next to the burlap bag, cutting the tie with her knife.
"Chicken blood is used in a lot of ritual sacrifices," McGee said absently, holding the bag as Ziva pulled out three live chickens. "Do you think we'll need to take these in as evidence?"
"How do you know that, McSatan?" Tony asked, frustrated. "Why is it that every time we have some weird evidence, something spooky, something… occult, you're the one with the automatic encyclopedia entry?" He paused, looking at the younger agent suspiciously. "You're not some kind of animal-sacrificing blood-drinking weirdo hippie, are you, McGee?"
"From what I understand of the hippies, Tony, they are not likely to be either animal-sacrificing or blood-drinking," Ziva stated, rising from the floor. She looked to Tony. "Call Abby. I will call Gibbs to see if we need to bring those in for Abby to examine." She walked out, phone already at her ear.
Tony dialed his phone, still staring at McGee.
"Tony, I spend a lot of time with Abby," McGee tried to explain, but Tony's eyes widened and he waved the hand not holding the phone hastily in front of him.
"I do not want to know whatever you could possibly be trying to tell me right now, Probie," Tony said, and practically ran from the shed.
McGee looked down at the chickens. "Typical," he muttered. "He wants me to explain, but doesn't want to hear the explanation." He knelt down again and held his hand out to the nearest chicken.
"You're going to like Abby," he said to the bird as Ziva walked back in, telling him to bring the animals back to the lab. "But probably not as much as she's going to like you."
I'm thinking of doing a few of these. Any ideas for what else I can call McGee?