Fairly plotless but amusing if I do say so myself.
Tony propped his feet up on his desk, smirking as he glanced from his completed paperwork to his watch. The hour hand hit 8 and he smiled smugly at Ziva who scowled in response.
He stood up and made a show of stretching, grinning at the rest of the team who were still hard a work (minus Gibbs per usual). "See ya later, probies." Tony mimicked an air pilot, cupping one hand over his mouth. "DiNozzo, over and out." He slung his jacket over one shoulder and headed across the bullpen towards the elevator, adding an extra hop to his step. Turning around, he gave a sloppy salute to his co-workers.
Ziva threw a paperclip at him. McGee just rolled his eyes. Sore losers.
He stepped into the elevator and grinned, tapping a beat on the wall before spinning around to face the doors. It was Friday and he had the whole night to himself. But what would he do?
His question was answered when his cell rang. Caller ID notified him that it was Ducky. The older man had already left work several hours earlier. It must be important then.
"Hello?"
"Ah, hello Anthony. My apologies, I must be interrupting something of importance to you, but I need a favor."
"Anything for you, Ducky." Tony said as the elevator reached the ground floor. He nodded to a NCIS agent entering the elevator as he exited and waited for Ducky's response.
There was a pause and Ducky could be heard shouting from a distance. "No, mother. I'm speaking with Anthony, not Matthew." His voice became clearer again. "I need you to watch after my mother." There was the sound of glass breaking in the background, accompanied by several dogs barking. Ducky moved away from the phone again. "Tyson! Keep away from the plates."
Tony's smile faded. "W-what?"
Ducky returned, sounding slightly stressed. "Jethro has asked for me to come in and perform the autopsy as soon as possible. He has a theory on our deceased lieutenant. Removing a lung might just calm my nerves."
"Not saying I don't want to...but why can't Ziva or McGee or, or Palmer do this instead of me? Palmer!" Tony asked.
"Mother knows you already. Trust me, Anthony. It would be better for everyone. Besides, she knows poor Mr. Palmer as the servant."
"While I'm either a gigolo or a furniture mover." Tony muttered away from the mouth piece, but he couldn't say no to Ducky. "Alright. I'll be there soon."
"That is fantastic news. Oh, and before I forget, Abigail has volunteered to take over at midnight." Ducky's voice drifted further away. "Mother?... Anthony will be here soon... Yes... No, he's not the cleaner...Yes, it would be best if you put some underwear on... Please mother!"
Ducky's voice drifted further away and Tony guessed he had forgotten about the phone. He hung up and prepared for the worst as he got into his car.
Tony stepped out into the night and took in a deep breath. That was the smell of freedom. Now, once he stepped into the Mallard residence, it would be the smell of dog fur and over used perfume.
He looked at the grand mansion Ducky and his senile mother resided in and remembered the last (he had hoped it was the last) time he had watched over Mrs. Mallard. He almost lost his marbles.
Reluctantly, he advanced towards the porch seeing as it was too late to back out. He climbed the creaky steps and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he instinctively tried the door handle. It was unlocked. Tony glanced to his left, then right before walking in carefully.
"Mrs. Mallard?" Tony called out. The only response he received was yapping through the walls. "Ducky?" He discarded his jacket on a coat stand before walking towards the lounge. "Mrs. Mallard!"
He was greeted by a cane to the face.
Tony reactively brought a hand up to defend himself, using the other to feel for blood or fractures.
"Who are you?" Mrs. Mallard stood before him, gripping her cane tightly with two frail hands. She hit him again in the stomach with strength a woman as old as her shouldn't possess, causing him to double over. Mrs. Mallard interrupted him before he could respond. "I said who are you?" She whacked him on the back and he collapsed on the floor in a withering ball of pain.
"It's me, Tony." He wheezed, not getting up for fear she would hit him again.
Mrs. Mallard narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Tony?"
Tony nodded and uncurled slightly to raise an eyebrow at her. "Anthony Dinozzo?" Mrs. Mallard lowered her cane and her eyes brightened.
"You're the gigolo!" She paused. "Is it Christmas already?" Mrs. Mallard hobbled around him and out into the warm summer night before hobbling back inside. "Must be."
Tony winced and nodded. He made a move to get up but she swatted his head. "Don't you dare look under my night gown, young man." She glanced around before leaning in and whispering. "I'm not wearing any knickers." She laughed and patted his cheek as he rose slowly and carefully.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Mallard." He said with a strained smile. "I wasn't planning to."
Ducky entered the room and rushed towards the two, a garbage bag with what sounded like broken glass in his hand. "My apologies, Anthony. Mother's in one of her good moods today." He lowered his voice so only Tony could hear. "Which isn't a good thing."
Ducky glanced at an antique clock attached to the wall. "I must run. Shouldn't keep Jethro waiting any longer." He glanced at the bag in his hand. "I should dispose of our Elvis Presley collector's plate first." He turned to Mrs. Mallard and wagged a finger at her. "Behave, Mother." With that he grabbed his coat and signature hat and left the Mallard household.
Mrs. Mallard smiled with a look of daze on her face as she watched her son through the window until his car was out of view. She turned around and a look of horror washed over her face.
Tony interrupted her before she could speak. "Anthony Dinozzo."
A look of amazement replaced the horror. "How did you know I was going ask for your name?" She furrowed her brow as she thought before looking at him in realization. "You're the-"
"Gigolo." He answered wearily.
Mrs. Mallard braced her cane again. "How did you know I was going to say that?"
Tony held up his hands defensively and took a step back. "Easy there with the cane. You can hurt someone."
Her eyes narrowed. "Are you a mind reader?"
Tony looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before replying with a sigh. "No ma'am. I'm an Italian."
It was going to be a long night.
"I think it's time for bed, Mrs. Mallard." Tony announced as the end credits of Coronation Street played on Ducky's out dated television.
"Oh? But the episode where they get married is coming up." She said with a frown.
Tony leaned back into the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. "We just saw that episode. The wedding was glorious. Time for bed!" He jumped to his feet and clapped his hands enthusiastically.
Mrs. Mallard made her way to a standing position just as Tony's cellphone rang. He answered it immediately, not bothering to check caller ID.
"Hello?" Tony prayed it was Abby.
"Hi Tony!"
He laughed, mostly in relief. "Hey. Are you ready to take over my shift? Please say yes."
"Actually I have to do something for Sister Rosita, but don't worry Tony! I'll be there in half an hour once I find her bowling shirt for tomorrow."
Mrs. Mallard poked Tony's back with the end of her cane. "Is that Matthew?" She nabbed his phone from him and held it to her ear. "Hello?... Hello?... Is this thing on? Hello, Matthew!"
Tony winced and made a grab for the phone but Mrs. Mallard evaded the attack and smacked his leg with her primary weapon as she listened to the response from the other end. She finally hung up a few seconds later and handed his phone back.
"Thank you," Tony said through gritted teeth.
Mrs. Mallard patted the back of his hand and smiled. "You're welcome, dear. Matthew's voice sounds quite different. More girly I suppose." She shrugged. "No matter. Where's my brandy?"
"Uh, you didn't ask for any." Tony said causing her to glare at him. She walked past him with the aid of her cane.
"I'll just get it myself then."
"I don't think you should have alcohol before going to bed, Mrs. Mallard." Tony called out after her. She turned around.
"You're much more uptight about my drinking habits than Donald." She frowned. "Maybe that's because he's usually asleep when I do drink."
Tony rushed over and helped her to her bed, ignoring the protests and threats. "Just go to sleep, Mrs. Mallard." He said and glanced at his wristwatch. "Abby should be here soon." He mumbled but Mrs. Mallard had already fallen asleep the minute her head hit the pillow when minutes ago she was threatening to castrate him with her knife if she didn't get her brandy. Now she was snoring louder than any woman he had heard before. Or man.
He quietly made his way out of her 'room' and into the lounge where he sunk into the couch. Eyes closed he sighed, relieved that it was all over. Then he heard whimpering. Tony opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to find a corgi perched on the top of the sofa.
Abby skipped up the porch, her platform boots making loud clunking noises against the hollow wood. She found the door unlocked and let herself in.
"Tony?" She asked quietly in case Ducky's mother was asleep. Which she should be. It was a little past 12 in the morning. Abby heard snoring in one room so she poked her head inside. Instead of Tony, she found Mrs. Mallard snoring loud enough to wake the dead.
Abby tip toed out and spun on her heel to face the lounge where she heard someone else snoring much softer than Mrs. Mallard. Inside she found Tony, asleep sitting on the couch with one arm draped over a corgi snoozing on his stomach.
"Aww." Abby cooed softly with a smile. She contemplated taking a picture and was about to take out her phone when one of the corgi's eyes opened. It noticed Abby and got to it's feet and barked, causing Tony to wake up, startled. It then proceeded to jump off the couch, not before running up Tony's face.
He yelped and glanced around, for the first time noticing Abby. Tony jumped to his feet and rubbed his face.
"Hiya, Abbs." He mumbled, then cleared his throat.
"Hey Tony!" Abby said and hugged him, squishing Bert in between their bodies. He let out his signature sound.
"Excuse you." Tony said and she laughed.
Abby smiled. "You look really tired. Unless you want Gibbs yelling at you in the morning you should go home. I've got this all under control." She assured him.
"Are you sure? Did I mention there are four corgis? That was Contessa, I think. Oh, and Tyson's the one that bites."
Abby shoved him out the door and threw his coat on him. "Good night, Tony."
Tony mentally wished her good luck and headed down the steps. Just as he reached the ground he heard Mrs. Mallard's voice through the open window.
"Gloria! What are you doing here? If you've come for my husband you are too late! He's dead!"
"No, no, Mrs. Mallard, it's me. Abby." A fart is followed then Mrs. Mallard's small squeal of affection and then several more farts.
Tony chuckled to himself as he got into his car. He was beyond exhausted from chasing Mrs. Mallard in and around the huge house for her fifth nonexistent corgi.
What's worse than spending a Saturday night all alone sprawled on the couch? Spending a Saturday night watching four yapping corgis and a disoriented woman you can't ignore.
Again, it was pretty plotless. Sorry if I anyone's OOC, this is my first NCIS fic.
Anyway, happy early birthday to Carlough!