Title: The NCIS Horror
Word Count: 986
Warnings: Description of The Amityville Horror, shameless bits of fluff, a terrified Tony, a few curse words, and Tony's large ego.
A/N: This was a fanfiction I wrote a while back, when I had just gotten my laptop. I found it this morning and decided to share. My friend and I actually DID watch The Amityville Horror, and it was slightly creepy. Nonetheless, I was too enchanted by the idea of a terrified Tony to make him scary movie proof. I mean, come on, after all the movies he's watched, there had to be ONE that scared him shitless, right? Reviews are love!
Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo prided himself on his reputation, if nothing else. He was a federal agent, a lady killer, a movie buff, and a proud owner of one of the sexiest cars on the planet. He was intelligent, witty, good at shielding his feeling. He was able to create a comfortable atmosphere in bad situations. He was fearless. At least, those were the things he liked to tell himself. However, at the moment he was curled up on his couch, scared shitless by his latest movie choice. Oh, wouldn't Ziva and McGee just love this one?
The Amityville Horror. Oh, how Tony loathed it. What on earth had possessed him-he shivered at the phrase-to watch the stupid movie in the first place? It wasn't as if Tony was easily spooked-he worked as a crime investigator, for Christ's sake-but that movie was just creepy! Blood and gore he could handle, but demon possession was a squeamish subject for Tony, much to his chargrin.
C'mon Tony, he goaded himself. It's Hollywood, nothing to be scared of. The 'based on a true story' on the cover glared back at him. Okay, maybe it isn't ALL Hollywood, but they probably embelish a little. Get a grip. You investigate murder for a living! You aren't going to let yourself be intimidated by a movie, are you? The sound of the front door opening launched the thirty-something male under the fluffy blanket that had been residing nearby. Yes, yes he damn sure was.
Foorsteps announced the anonymous person's arrival. Tony wanted to poke his head out from underneath the covers and investigate, but he wasn't quite brave enough. Footsteps meant no ghost or spirit or whatever, though, right?
The heavy footsteps cut off incredibly close to where Tony was taking refuge under his blanket. He gulped, and told himself if he stayed very, very still, the scary anonymous person might not see-
Unfortunately, that train of thought was cut off as soon as the fluffy blanket was ripped away from the brunette, followed by an embarrassingly high pitched scream. The scream stopped quickly after the federal agent had recognized the anonymous person's short, silver hair, and his expression turned from one of fear to one of reproach. The loud laughter, however, continued long after the screaming had stopped. Only once the barks of laughter had faded into quiet chuckles did Tony speak up.
"Enjoying yourself, Jethro?" Said man wisely decided not to comment. "That wasn't funny."
"What movie?" Gibbs responded, eyes immediately going to the coffee table in search of the DVD case. "Another one? You know what happened after Paranormal Activity. You couldn't sleep for a week!"
"The demon dragged her down the hallway by her freaking leg! You try to sleep after that!"
"I did," Gibbs reminded him smugly. Tony's glare darkened.
"Well, this one was worse!" He defended himself, trying and failing to appear as though he wasn't sulking. Gibbs thought it was rather adorable. He decided to let his senior field agent off the hook.
"What happened?" He asked sympathetically (at least as sympathetically as he could; he was Gibbs, after all), motioning for his lover to scoot over and cuddling up to him.
"Well, this family moves into this new house, right? And it's a pretty nice house and all, but it's haunted, and they have no idea at first. The the little girl starts talking to the little girl that died there so many years ago. The ghost gives her it's creepy stuffed animal too, it's weird. Anyway, so the dead little girl starts to tell the living little girl what to do and she eventually climbs the roof and tries to jump off of it. While all of this is going on, the dad is slowly going crazy-He killed the dog, Boss!-and there's blood and stuff coming out of the facuet, and all of this creepy stuff keeps happening at three fifteen . It turns out that the house was built on all these graves because this dude used to torture these Native Americans and then at the end, this little girl stands there and cries when the family leaves, then BAM! She gets dragged down through the floor, screaming. Before that-"
"I got it, Tony." Gibbs quieted the younger man's ramblings. He tugged the brunette off the couch and up the stairs. "Bed."
While Tony got ready for bed-throwing suspicious glances around the room, just in case-Gibbs went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He delibrately left the light on after exiting, something Tony knew Gibbs hated, and allowed his lover to encase him in a death grip. Tony knew he was being irrational, but that shit was scary!
"No more horror movies for you," Gibbs chided gently, otherwise ignoring Tony's skittish behavior.
"Got it, Boss," Tony squeaked, cursing himself for being unable to see all corners of the room at once. Gibbs rapped his fist gently on his lover's head, then kissed his cheek.
"Sleep."
Gibbs waited until Tony had drifted to sleep before letting his own eyes close. He dreamed of Shannon and Kelly, Tony and himself, all sitting peacefully on his boat, out in the open water. Kelly had settled herself in her father's lap, giggling girlishly and holding her favorite doll close, stealing shy glances at Tony, who was laughing at something Shannon had said. Kelly smiled at Gibbs, opening her mouth to tell him something-
"AHHHHHHH!" Tony gave a violent thrash and inaverdantly hit Gibb's in the face with a madly waving arm.
"Tony!" Gibbs snapped in an attempt to wake his lover up. Tony woke up abruptly, gasping, and glanced around wildly before giving his bed partner a sheepish look. Before he could utter a word, though, his eyes focused on the alarm clock behind Gibbs and his mouth fell open in horror. It was three fifteen.