Title: Trapped In The Closet
Pairing: None; suggested Tony/McGee or McGee/Ziva
Rating: K+
Genre: Gen
Cat: Humor
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: When Tony and McGee find themselves trapped in a closet at NCIS, an inspired conversation takes place.
Author's Note: I just realized I'd never uploaded this and thought I really should. Written for one of my own old challenges at NFA, the Boxed In Take Two challenge, where the story had to be dialogue only. I couldn't resist writing it.

Guide:
Regular text = Tony
Bold = McGee
Italics = Ziva
Underline = Gibbs

"Oh, crap! Come on, Probie . . . Hurry!"

"Ow! Stop shoving me! What are you . . ."

"Shh!"

"Why are we in a supply closet, Tony?"

"We're in a supply closet because . . . Because I just saw Ziva coming."

"And?"

"And she's really pissed at me."

"So you had to shove me in here with you? Thanks, Tony."

"Sorry, Probie. I guess I overreacted."

"*snorts*"

"She's probably gone now. We can just . . . Heh. This is kinda funny . . ."

"What, Tony."

"You're gonna laugh, McGee. You really are."

"Somehow I'm doubting that."

"Fine. We're locked in."

"What."

"Yeah, this must be one of those doors that locks automatically upon closing, and wonder of all wonders, can't be opened from inside."

"Well, that's pretty stupid. There has to be a catch or something . . ."

"Oh, Probie. Not everything can be solved with your little engineering skills."

"How the hell else are we going to get out of here, Tony?"

"Well, by calming down, for one. Getting all worked up isn't going to help matters any."

"Sorry. I guess I'm just . . . Sorry. *pause* Do you think Ziva's still out there?"

"Why? So she can rescue us and then kick my ass?"

"Now who's getting worked up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, McSnarky. Listen, maybe it's just stuck. Here, let me . . ."

"Ow, Tony, your . . . I don't know what it is, but you're jabbing me in the stomach."

"Deal with it, McWhiner. Unless you want to be stuck in here with me."

"If you think you can get the door open, by all means."

"Thank you. *long pause* Okay, so it's not 'just stuck.' I resign myself to your engineering prowess, oh Probalicious one."

"Resign yourself? Get out of the way."

"Okay, okay. Hand myself over to your superior mind power. How's that? Though it doesn't really seem to me, as insufficient as my brain is compared to yours, Oh Great One, that you're getting any further than I did."

"Somehow, I'm not thinking that sarcasm is going to help much here, either, Tony."

"Fine. You got any better ideas?"

"We could always yell for help."

"Ha! I refuse to let myself be rescued by Ziva."

"Who says it would be Ziva rescuing us? It could be anyone walking past."

"Yeah, and imagine the rumors that would get started then."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of it from our rescuer's point of view, if you would, Probie. You're walking down the hall, perhaps visiting interrogation, going to get a quick drink of water, you know, just minding your own business. When suddenly, you pass by this very closet and hear pleas of help emanating from within. Would you really want to be involved in that rescue mission?"

"But someone could be hurt."

"Probie! We're in a building full of federal agents, the majority of whom know how to operate a gun. If anyone were in danger, we'd know how to take care of ourselves."

"So, you're suggesting what?"

"Heh. Come on, Probie. Think about it. Two guys . . . in a closet . . . screaming . . ."

"What, you think people would think we were gay?"

"Now you're using your head, Probie."

"Tony, that's just ridiculous. No one is going to think that. I mean, not everyone thinks the way you do, thank God."

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Tony. I just want to get out of here without incident."

"No, Probie. You clearly think there's something wrong with the way I think, and I want to know what it is."

"Fine then. You're a pervert, Tony. And . . . I don't think it's an appropriate mindset for a criminal investigator."

"Ouch. That hurts, Probie."

"I'm sorry, Tony. But you asked . . ."

"Yeah, yeah. *long pause* So, you ever think about coming out of the closet, Probie?"

"For the last time, I am not gay, Tony."

"Hey, I'm not judging. I'm just saying that I'm okay with it if you are."

"Tony . . . *pause* You know, you seem awfully interested in whether or not I'm gay."

"Oh, now you're going to suggest that I'm gay. Clever, Probie. Totally and obviously not true, but clever. Nice little device there, getting the attention off yourself."

"Seriously, Tony. You're always the first to suggest that I might have homosexual preferences, and always follow that up with something stating how fine you are with it. It's almost like you want me to be gay, so you have a shot at hooking up."

"With you? Okay, I'm sorry, man, but I have to get this off my chest . . . Bwahahahaha! Oh, Probie, you sure know how to lighten a situation. I'm thinking it's not so much me wanting you as it is the opposite way around. Clearly I'm the one to be desired."

"But why would a gay man want to be with someone like you, Tony? As you've said so many times before, you're the quintessential ladies' man. That would mean women would be attracted to you, right?"

"You certainly seem to have put a lot of thought into this, Probie. Perhaps it's because you can't handle the fact that I'm not available to you."

"I'm just using the facility of logic to come to a conclusion, Tony. It's something I don't expect you to have any experience with."

"Oh ho ho! The Professor delivers another whip! I don't know that I can handle all this verbal abuse; my brain is crying tears of shame for not being permanently attached to a computer chip. Actually, for all I know, that's all that's inside your head. It would explain everything."

"Including my being gay?"

"Admitting it now, are we?"

"No, of course not . . . Listen. I'm starting to get really hot in here . . ."

"Now that is just the worst pick-up line I have ever heard."

"No, Tony, I'm serious. I think we're losing oxygen . . ."

"Okay, just calm down. Don't start hyperventilating on me. We'll find a way out of here . . . If I can just . . ."

"What the hell are you two idiots doing?"

"Boss! Thank God. Probie here was just about to pass out. And . . . Ziva. How long were you standing there?"

"Well, let me think. I was walking towards interrogation when I heard this little 'click'."

"You were standing there the entire time."

"Yes. If you would care to think of it that way."

"Why didn't you let us out?"

"I am sorry, McGee. I did not mean to worry you so. But Tony . . ."

"Oh, sure, take the Probie's side."

"Are we done being morons yet? Because I'm sure there's plenty of work for you to be doing back in the squad room."

"Of course, Boss."

"That was close, was it not?"

"No thanks to you, Zee-vah."

"Well, you did not want me to rescue you. I do remember hearing that part rather loud and clearly."

"I didn't know you were standing there when I said it, Zee-vah!"

"Mhmm. Well. McGee, are you feeling alright?"

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I'm just a bit light-headed . . ."

"My poor little McGee. I will take you to the break room, find you something to eat."

"Thanks, Ziva. You go on ahead. I'll be there in a minute."

"Surely."

"What? Wanted to say something to me, McGee? Admit your man crush?"

"Nope. Just wanted to let you know . . . That is how a real ladies man does it."

THE END!