Title: Palmer, James Palmer
Author: M.E.
Fandom: NCIS
Summary: He wasn't sure what was sadder: that only one person in the entire NCIS building used his given name or that he could be reasonably certain no one besides Abby knew it.
Disclaimer: Dum spiro, spero.
Characters/Pairing: Jimmy Palmer, Anthony Dinozzo, onesided Palmer/Tony
Warnings: angst, onesided slash
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 415
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Palmer, James Palmer
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Jimmy leaned over the autopsy table, trying to grab the extra container without getting up from his comfy chair. It was late and the building was practically empty. He doubted even Gibbs had stayed this late, case or not. His finger just brushed the edge of the bowl when he gave a startled eep at the hand that suddenly lifted it closer. Jumping back in his chair, he quickly yanked the headphones out of his ears and stared at his surprise guest.
Tony stood in all his glory, rumpled button-down shirt tucked carelessly into black slacks, offering the large bowl to Jimmy with his classic charming grin on his face. Jimmy tried in vain to force down his flush as Tony chuckled. Reaching over, Jimmy took the bowl with stammered thanks and set it beside the filled ones at his left. He had just worked up the courage to stutter out a question when Tony strode around the table and set a heavy, casual hand on his shoulder.
"Whatcha doin' here so late, Palmer?"
Jimmy tried not to stumble over his explanation, but knew he failed even as he winced a little at the use of his last name. He wasn't sure what was sadder: that only one person in the entire NCIS building used his given name or that he could be reasonably certain no one besides Abby knew it.
"Alright, Palmer, well I was just about to head out. Try not to fall asleep on our vic, huh?"
Tony laughed and Jimmy couldn't help but revel in the sound and the fact he was the cause, even if indirectly. With a last squeeze of his shoulder, Tony departed and Jimmy barely kept down the shudder until the door had closed behind him. Jimmy watched those doors for longer than was probably healthy before turning back to the sliced-up corpse in front of him. He sighed quietly and attempted to imprint the warmth of Tony's hand in his memory.
He knew nothing would ever come of his ridiculous crush as well as he knew he would never act on it. Even if Tony swung that way, what could he offer compared to the dozens of attractive men and women that would throw themselves at the agent? He shook his head sharply and resisted the urge to smash the containers of organs onto the sterile floor so something could be as messed up as his life.
He was just Palmer. Just shy, stuttering, nameless Palmer.
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A/N: I love this pair and part of me really wants to continue this because I'm a whump!whore and Jimmy suffers so delightfully, but nothing's coming to me right now. If anything does, as always, I'll share.