AN: Hey guys! It's me! It's been a super long time since I posted anything and I'm really sorry. My life has been sort of hectic with AP tests, college apps. and my mom got breast cancer so that doesn't help :/
But anyways, I'm back now and I've got a brand new story for y'all! Enjoy and please feel free to comment!
Disclaimer: Nuuupe. Still not mine.
Anthony DiNozzo was drunk. Disgustingly, stumblingly, slobberingly drunk. And yet, he had every right to be. This week's case had been a brutal one: a Petty Officer by the name of Lauren Renole had been brutally raped and murdered and within hours, the trail had gone cold. The case, which had been dark enough to begin with, took a much darker turn when connections between three previously unsolved murders and the disappearances of over a dozen children were discovered.
The case had taken a toll on all of them, but as of earlier that afternoon, it was all in the past. The was case solved, the killer caught, the children reunited with their parents, and Tony felt that a drink was long overdue. And drink he did. He drank to celebrate, and he drank to forget. And by the end of the night, he was totally, completely and utterly wasted.
At some point Tony must've decided that he was ready to go home because half an hour later he found himself stumbling through an alleyway (the bartender had done the world a kindness by taking away the agent's car keys), clutching a small gold trophy that he had apparently won singing karaoke to Don McLean's "American Pie". A tiny, Gibbs-like voice in the back of DiNozzo's intoxicated brain reprimanded him for allowing himself to get so drunk. Tony's conscience twinged and he frowned at the bad emotion bubbling in the pit of his stomach. But then a second, much nicer voice (this one had an Israeli accent and Tony couldn't help but to grin at the sound of it) reminded him that Gibbs had given the team the next day or two off, so as long as he showed up early Monday morning refreshed and ready to go, he would be fine.
Feeling much better about himself, Tony resumed his wobbly stride and continued on his journey home. Luckily, he wasn't too far away: the apartment complex was only about six and a quarter miles away from the bar so with any luck he'd be in bed, asleep in the next hour, hour and a half.
DiNozzo made light of his travel by talking/singing to himself. Mostly, he talked about movies, babbling on about everything from Independence Day to Hitch to GATTACA, and even mentioned a couple of those hilariously bad movies from the Sci-Fi Channel like Mega Shark VS Giant Octopus or Arachnoquake. Sometimes he would interrupt himself by singing bits of songs from musicals: "I'll Be Here" from Ordinary Days, "Do You Hear the People Sing" from Les Miserables, "Let It Go" from Disney's Frozen, and "Finishing the Hat" from Sunday in the Park with George were among his top picks.
Half an hour later, Tony had grown silent. Unlike New York City, Washington DC did sleep, so Tony found himself completely alone on the streets as he walked home. The streetlights flickered warmly overhead, the traffic lights changing every once and a while to accommodate the rare car passing through the intersections: Tony felt at peace.
The apartment complex had come into view just under a mile on down the road: this was the homestretch. With the goal now in view, Tony strengthened his resolve and quickened his pace. Nearly there, he thought.
Suddenly, a tumultuous crash came from the alleyway he was just passing. Startled, DiNozzo's inebriated brain did its best to kick into gear. His heart pounding inside his chest, he certainly didn't feel drunk anymore.
Cautiously, the young Special Agent backtracked to the mouth of the alleyway and tentatively peered around the corner. Half a dozen metal trashcans lay tipped on their sides, explaining the source of the noise. Raccoon, he though. Feeling a bit more confident, he rounded the corner and approached the garbage cans, wanting to investigate. However, something… unusual caught DiNozzo's eyes and he began to wonder just how drunk he really was.
A tail. A massive, pale blue, reptilian tail was poking out of the trashcan where the creature inside was still rummaging around for scraps. Having found what it was looking for (in this case it was a half-eaten bean burrito) the creature backed out of the metal can. It was reptilian in nature, like a giant lizard, but with brawny legs, a long neck and powerful wings. Its body was three-fourths the length of the trashcan, its neck and head only half of that. It was elegant-looking, pale blue in color, and nothing short of impossible.
Definitely not a raccoon.
DiNozzo's mind was frozen in place, only a single word popping up and repeating itself over and over and over: dragon.
The dragon in question didn't appear to notice the agent's presence: it was too busy tucking into a long awaited meal. Within seconds the burrito was gone and the dragon was back inside the trashcan looking for more food.
It's hungry, DiNozzo thought, his mind kicking back into gear. He was far too drunk and tired to question his sanity and properly deal with this, so he decided just to go with it. He watched the creature for a moment as it kicked trash all around the once-clean alley. Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile. Hiccup's voice, from How to Train Your Dragon, echoed inside his head. Movie quotes. Classic DiNozzo.
Suddenly, the dragon lurched from the trashcan, its head shooting straight up to look DiNozzo right in the eyes. Tony swallowed thickly. Perhaps he might've quoted that last bit out loud…
The dragon reared up on its hind legs, wildly flapping its wings and roaring angrily. Tony froze up. He though for sure he was going to die, attacked by a dragon at two AM in the middle of some alleyway. But to his great surprise, the dragon backed down and sat back on its scaly butt with a quiet "thump". It stared at DiNozzo for a long time, its head innocently cocked sideways as if it were sorting out the situation. After several moments, the dragon, who was much braver than the inebriated Navy cop, gave a content little purr and took several bounding steps towards the shocked agent.
DiNozzo tensed up. His vision started swimming. He was drunk and absolutely exhausted and his brain simply couldn't process what was going on. He began to sway dangerously, and the young dragon paused its stride to give him a concerned look.
Suddenly, the dragon was all the way across the alley, standing only a foot away from where the agent threatened to keel over. He feel the dragon brush up against him, its face rubbing against his leg as if the mighty creature was nothing more than an overly friendly house cat.
Unfortunately, this was all Tony's brain could process. His vision went black and he felt himself slumping over against the pavement before falling completely unconscious.
AGENT LASTWISH: I HAVE FLOWN WITH DRAGONS
DiNozzo awoke the next morning and found himself laying in his bed back home. What's more, he was lacking the horrendous hangover that usually followed his late night drinking escapades. His refreshed mind searched for answers but he came up empty handed.
Running a hand down his face, Tony couldn't help but wonder if it had all been just a dream. But how could it have been? He didn't remember coming home from work last night, much less falling asleep! And it all felt so real… but then again, dreams often do. "This feels just like Recall," he mumbled and did his best simply to forget the experience.
Monday morning came all too soon for Tony. When he arrived at the Navy Yard, he noticed that he appeared to be the first one there. But it wasn't long before McGee and Ziva showed up, walking out of the elevator chatting about this and that.
Gibbs arrived not more than five minutes later, coffee in hand. "Grab your gear," he said. "We got a body down at Norfolk. Ziver, you drive," he tossed the keys to the former Mossad agent.
This case, however, would prove to be far from ordinary. After all, it's one thing to read about dragons, it's another thing entirely to meet them in person.
To be continued...