A one-shot I thought up randomly that changed styles and intent at least three times. It started as a simple narration by Tony, but I decided the other team members should get in their two cents. The italics represent the other team members and the normal text is Tony. Think of it like a story being typed on a computer with interjections by the studio audience. It isn't really connected to the series, but if I had to put it somewhere, it would probably be in season 9 somewhere. Enjoy!

Just Another Day at NCIS

It was supposed to be routine. But isn't that how it always is 'supposed' to be? No one wakes up one morning and thinks to themselves, "What a beautiful day it is today. I think I'll get myself shot." Except maybe Ziva.

I have never done that Tony. Take that out.

No, it's my story, I can write it how I want. Just ask Mr. Gemcity.

I never used names Tony. My characters are entirely fictitious.

Of course not McWriter.

*sigh*

Anyway.

Nope, nobody thinks like that. At least nobody sane.

Then again, the guys hiding in the warehouse that was 'empty' probably didn't qualify as sane individuals. After all, a smart and sane criminal wouldn't have stuck around after killing the security guard. Realistically, most smart criminals wouldn't try to hide drugs on a Marine base when they were 1) not enlisted in the Marines and therefore have no clearance to be on the base, and 2) were totally and completely high or drunk.

Or in one case, both.

I still do not understand why the tall one with the long hair thought offering to split his drug money 50/50 with federal officers would entice us at all.

Like I said, not the smartest guys on the block.

How they were even coherent enough to hold up those really big guns and fire in our general direction is a mystery to me.

You know Tony, you should probably start at the beginning of the story before you get into too much detail. Otherwise the reader is just going to get confused.

Stop being a back seat writer! I am getting to that part.

What is a back seat writer? McGee is sitting right next to you.

It's a driving reference Ziva.

But we are not driving.

MOVING ON…

…

Thank you.

Anyway, early this morning a security guard was found dead outside a warehouse on the Marine base. Gibbs flew through the bullpen with his usual cheery face and we, the team, all gracefully gathered our gear and shadowed our fearless leader out the door.

Didn't you trip over the extension cord in front of the elevator and almost knock Gibb's coffee out of his hand?

I did no such thing!

Yeah, then you fell onto McGee and…

If you guys don't stop interrupting-

*Whack*

Let the man write.

Right Boss.

Sure Gibbs.

I'll cut to the action. Long story short, dead guard, bloody footprints into warehouse, bunch of drugged and high guys with big guns who were trying to load a pickup with crates of no good paraphilia. For a moment we all just stared at one another, processing the scene. Like Ziva said, the long hair guy tried offering money, but before we could even refuse another thug pulled out a gun and fired at Ziva.

Everyone darted behind various crates and steel supports to get out of rain of bullets. Soon all five of our newly-appointed suspects were shooting. Gibbs shouted into his radio for backup and Ziva had to belly-crawl her to McGee to find some better cover. Gibbs was behind a wide steel support beam, McGee had taken cover behind a large cargo container, and I was on my knees behind some kind of solid table.

Doing what we do best we returned fire and covered one another in an attempt to take down the house before it got messy.

What does that even mean?

Trust me Ziva, it's not worth explaining.

The readers will understand.

Gibbs got the first guy somewhere vital enough that it spooked the second guy into dropping his gun. He tried to run but got shot in the leg by yours truly.

Based off of his drug tests I doubt he would have made it far before passing out anyway.

True McGee, though a bullet through the knee definitely prevented any attempts at escape.

Thank you Ziva.

McGee got the third one in the shoulder or chest and Gibbs called for the others to surrender. The thugs dropped their guns and we started rounding the group up. Our backup had arrived sometime in the previous thirty seconds and it was looking like an open-shut case.

Unfortunately for McGee and I, the first guy to be taken out was not out of the picture. McGee rolled him onto his stomach and the guy managed to sock McGee across the jaw with the butt of his shotgun. McGee fell sideways, probably saving his life, and the perp got a hold of a hand gun. His aim was terrible, but it was good enough to take out a couple of officers.

Including you Tony.

Yes, including me McGee.

It felt like I had been hit by a burning car right in the shoulder. I've been shot before, but at such a close range it felt more powerful than almost anything I have ever felt before. The force of the bullet knocked me onto McGee and before you could even yell 'gun!' the guy had three bullets in his heart.

By the time the smoke cleared-

Smoke?

It's a figure of… never mind.

After a moment of securing the scene and checking the other arrestees to make sure no one else was going to pull out a gun, Ziva and Gibbs converged on McGee and myself. My shoulder felt like it was on fire and even sitting up sent an unpleasant tingling up and down my back. Ziva helped me lean against a crate while Gibbs hovered over McGee.

Hovered?

In a very macho and resilient way Boss.

Right…

Poor Probie had been knocked out cold and had a couple of lovely lacerations to the face. The ever intrepid Dr. Mallard was called in with his loyal assistant and between the two of them we were patched up and ready to start working again before the ambulances showed up.

I thank you for your words of devotion Anthony but mine and Mr. Palmers administrations were hardly hospital standard.

All I did was slap some gauze on your shoulder so you wouldn't pass out from blood loss before the ambulance got there. No reason to carry a body further than necessary.

…Thanks Ducky and Palmer… I think.

I didn't mean to say 'body' as in I thought you were dead Tony. Or that you should have been dead. It was just-

I think silence would be your best bet here Mr. Palmer.

Moving on.

One lovely ride in an ambulance later with an unconscious Probie and a very nonchalant EMT later, and our story ends with our courageous heroes ending up in a hospital room clad in paper thin, baby-blue hospital gowns while nobly recalling our adventures to you the readers.

That's a run-on sentence. See, the computer flagged it with those green squiggly lines.

I tend to ignore the green squiggly lines. It's not like those show up when you print the pages. Computers don't know anything anyway.

Of course Tony. Notice how the word 'Probie' is flagged as well? It's obviously not a word.

Your point?

You shouldn't use words that don't exist. Simple as that.

If that were true McDictionary, than we would have to rename Ziva. Word gives lots of suggestions!

No Tony.

No really Ziva, look at all these cool options.

I said no Tony.

Siva, Zia, Zima, Kiva, Diva- hey, let's call you our own personal Israeli Diva!

Sit down Ziva. You can maim Tony with some inanimate object another day.

Yes Gibbs.

Ah come on Ziva-

*Whack*

Changing the subject now Boss.

Thank you.

To finish off the story, McGee and I will have the lovely opportunity of keeping each other company for the next several days. McGee has to have his jaw put back together and I need a new shoulder blade.

Which means I get to spend a whole week listening to Tony's ramble, without speaking, since my jaw will be wired shut.

It's going to be the best week in a hospital ever! We will get to watch all the movies I choose since McGee won't be able to refuse.

All in all, just another eventful day at NCIS that lands someone-

Or two someones.

In the hospital. If my MCRT team wasn't so successful at closing cases, I would be hard pressed by my superiors to lock you all in a padded room.

I concur Director. These young people do seem to spend a lot of time getting sewn back up.

As long as they don't end up on one of your tables Ducky, my team is doing their jobs just fine.

I agree wholeheartedly with you Jethro.

So that ends another eventful day at NCIS. Maybe the next short story I write-

There will be more?

Of course Ziva! I'm kind of enjoying this whole writing thing.

Isn't one author writing about our lives enough?

I told you guys, my book is fiction!

Anything you can do Probie, I can do better!

*sigh*

Hey look, the Boss's name got flagged on the computer too!

Not on your life DiNozzo.

The End

A/N: So is anyone totally confused? Don't worry, you probably aren't the only one ;) I tried to write the dialogue accurate to the characters so you wouldn't have to be told who is speaking. Please review!