Written for the "Tabhair póg dom, tá Gaeilge agam" challenge on NFA. ;D

I.o.w. the "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" Challenge.

Tim just couldn't understand how he'd got himself into this.

Or, wait a minute! That's right! He'd lost a bet... Courtesy of Tony, of course. As ever. Who else...

Why had he allowed them to get him this sloshed.? More importantly: what had that bet been about again? And how had he lost if he didn't even remotely remember the circumstances? Who was to say he really lost that bet?

The morning after, he'd had a total blackout for the events of that evening. Increditble... This had never happened to him before.

He'd wondered for a moment if they'd not spiced his wine. No, they wouldn't do that. They'd get into too much trouble.

Bottom line was that he had been assigned to learn the St. Patrick's Day tradiational set by...St. Patrick's Day. On that day, Jimmy and Tim would be pitched against one another at the St. Patrick's event at the Naval Yard.

Tim knew he couldn't back out of this. Not when this was going to be a fundraiser for a charity organization. There would be a lot going on, that day, fun for kids including face painting and balloon art, and a range of Irish foods to sample and plenty of Guinness, too, at the bar.

Not going to make a fool of himself, he sought out one of his neighbors who had teenage kids competing for their Irish dance school in Silver Spring.

So, every Thursday night for the past two months, he'd got private sessions at that school. The other dancers had been very helpful, too, and he was allowed to borrow a pair of hardshoes and a very nice cumberbund which he wasn't yet sure he would dare to wear on the day.

He was being congratulated for his quick learning; that he 'had it in him', although one teacher – of course they came to see who was taking a crash course in their dance hall – let out he'd do better as a Highland dancer the way he couldn't quite keep his knees closed. Of course, he had no idea what that person was talking about...unless his Scottish name had anything to do with this.

So here he was; doing his warming-up, tugging at his collar, licking his lips, shuffling his feet...impatiently waiting to face the music.

Being nervous.

"C'mon, Tim, you can do it. After all, it'll take no longer than a minute and you're done. You know that already." Jimmy chuckled, giving Tim a pat on the shoulder.

Tim gulped and looked at Jimmy, pointing a finger directly behind him – behind the door to the pub - where they could hear the musicians at their sound-check and the typical pub noise.

"Did you see the crowd in there?" Tim hissed. "DID you?"

"Relax! You know your St. Patrick's Day by heart. You'll do fine. Beesides, this is for fun as well as for a good cause."

The door opened to reveal Abby.

"C'mon, guys! Time for your gig."

She quickly skipped over to Jimmy and gave him a hug, before hopping over to Tim whom she gave a more bone crushing hug.

"Eh...Abs...Abby...You're squeezing the air from my lungs. Won't help me much when you do that." Tim gasped.

She quickly released him and leaned into him for a kiss.

"For luck, Timmy," she said as she stepped back and looked deep into his emerald green eyes. Then she turned around and walked back into the pub.

"Wow!" Jimmy chuckled. "Nothing can go wrong after this."

"Yeah, right." But Tim still felt that kiss and he could feel a strange tingling sensation...and the stirrings of excitement.

"It's time to hit the floor, Tim." Jimmy held out his hand to Tim who shook it.

"Yeah... Let's go."

Together, they went through the door and inside the bustling bar.

"Break a leg, McGee!" Tony yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Bring the house down, boys!" Agent Dornigan shouted his encouragement to both men, nearly kicking his pint of Guinness from the table in his excitement.

As Tim got onto the stage with Jimmy, he noticed some familiar faces other than his team's or NCIS personnel. His personal coach and other dancers from the Silver Spring school had also come to see him dance for an audience.

The bar was heavily decorated in green and the Irish colors. The majority of the patrons wore those colors, too, and the waitresses wore "Irish Colleen" dresses. Guinness was much consumed, too.

Oh, and there were banners with their names...sort of...

"Dance of the day! Autopsy Gremlin versus Elf Lord!"

The musicians started to play and the two dancers waited for 8 bars before trebling through the dance routine.

It had mostly become muscle memory, but still Tim could hear the steps in his head.

"Treble one, treble two, treble three, treble four, treble, treble hop back, cut down, cut down, and kick off your heel..."

By the time they'd finished the set on the right foot – they weren't expected to dance the full St. Patrick's Day - "...and rock, rock rock, treble one, treble two, treble, treble hop back, and back two three four." - the cheering in the already lively bar went over into a deafening applause, implemented with whistling, for both dancers.

As well as: "Elf Lord! Elf Lord!" and "Grem-lin! Grem-lin!"

Jimmy and Tim looked at one another and grinned. They'd both done amazingly well for their first performance.

To their surprise, Ziva and Abby hurried on stage. Ziva went to stand before Tim and Abby in front of Jimmy; both holding a T-shirt with the text: "I'm Not Irish, Kiss Me Anyway" which they helped pulling over the men's heads.

Then, they put the words into action, giving the two dancers a peck on the cheek.

FIN

A tidbit: did you know there actually is a famous Irish dance school in Silver Spring? I use their music CD for dance classes. :)