A/N: So it's on with the next chapter. Remember this is crack-fic so don't expect it to make sense. Thank-you to everyone who reviewed.

This chapter is not beta'ed – sorry for any glaring errors.

Warning: This fic has been written to offend as many people as possible. Read it at your own risk :D

Chapter 1: I'm Gonna Wave That Man Right Out of My Arms

Anthony DiNozzo Junior, Tony to his friends, was in the bullpen on his last day at NCIS; packing up his stuff for the last time. He'd just surrendered his trusty service weapon to the armoury, feeling like he was farewelling and old friend. Now all that was left was to collect up the last of his things. The end of an era.

He picked up his Mighty Mouse stapler and was looking at it fondly, as Leroy Jethro Gibbs strode up and stopped in front of what had been his desk for the last fifteen years. Well it had been his desk, except for four months when he'd lead the team and another four months when he'd been agent afloat aboard the USS Reagan and the Sea Hawk.

"So ya all done, DiNozzo?"

"Nearly, Gibbs. Just have a few things left to pack up, then I'm outta here."

"Good cuz now we're free to be a couple, Sweetheart." Gibbs grabbed him and attempted to conduct an intensely personal reconnaissance of his lips and tonsils.

Pushing him away, Tony looked at Gibbs in shock. "What the Hell was that? And Sweetheart…really c'mon!"

"Don't be coy, Honey-buns. No need to hide our love now you don't work here. You can be the needy sub to my domineering dom now, just like you've always dreamed of."

"Ah no…I haven't. For a start I'm not into guys, Gibbs. Not that I have a problem if you are, of course. After three-exes, guys might well be the way to go. On the other hand, Jethro, when they swing a sporting implement at you for being a bastard, they're much more likely to cave your head in. Maybe you need to rethink that plan."

"That's not what Senior says about you. You're just in denial." Gibbs taunted, totally ignoring the comments about his sporty, but weak ex-wives extra curricula activities.

"I am? Are you sure about that? Cuz I could have sworn I really, really liked women, Jethro. Wendy, Paula, Jeanne, E.J., Zoe – I thought they had ovaries. My Bad!"

"Trust me, you're as camp as a row of tents and you want my body bad, Sweet Boy. Why else would you spend 15 years working for me, if it wasn't so you could follow along behind me to check out my extremely hot ass?"

"Honestly, I have no idea why I stayed here so long, I reckon it was the brain damage from all the blows to my head I've sustained over the years. It must have taken away my desire for advancement. I swear it wasn't your butt that kept me around cuz to be blunt, Puddin-Pie, it just ain't all that hot. Figure all the coffee and bourbon caught up with it over the years. Starting to show you, age, Jethro."

"Don't be an insolent whelp! And what about these?" Jethro head slapped him enthusiastically. "Don't pretend ya don't like it when I hit ya. Told everyone that my head slapping you was a sign of affection."

"Yeah I did say that, I guess. Well it might be a sign of affection. Just didn't say who for. FYI it's sure not for me."

Gibbs looked confused, initially, before grasping the innuendo. So he reached across and head slapped DiNozzo again, before yelling, "On your knees, Slave. You'll pay dearly for that disrespect later on when I have you chained to my bed but now you can su…"

The phone rang, interrupting what he was about to say, to Tony's eternal undying gratitude to whoever had picked that moment to interrupt – and probably for everyone else in the bull pen, although it was pretty deserted, actually.

"Gibbs," he barked into his old style flip-phone.

Tony was amazed that after so many years that thing even worked any more, especially with the way Gibbs often threw it down when pissed off.

Gibbs didn't look happy with the person on the other end of the phone. "Fine. Ducky. I'll be right there," he ground out irritably, swaggering into the elevator, yelling over his shoulder at him in an authoritarian tone, loud enough for everyone to hear to his horror. "Hold that thought, Sweetie-Pie-Honey-Buns. I'm going to take you home and turn you into a pile of goo when I fu…" before the elevator door mercifully closed on him mid rant.

Tony stared after the man who has been treating him like shit for nigh on 15 years and even worse, if that was possible, for the last 12 months, wondering if someone had drugged him. Maybe he imagined the whole freako- bizarro conversation just now; it was a fairly emotional time - leaving. Shrugging, he went back to packing up his things. It looked as if he was getting out of here at the right time.

Picking up his spare set of clothes that he always kept in his filing cabinet, the elevator dinged and he looked up, hoping Gibbs hadn't returned already or he'd have to cuff him to his desk and gag him. The mood he was in, he'd probably like it! However, it wasn't his former boss who emerged from the elevator – praise the gods! Instead it was a brown haired woman who stepped out of the elevator and into the bullpen.

Looking at him folding a pair of boxer briefs neatly before packing them away in his backpack, she addressed him with a phrase he hadn't heard in a very long time. "You're such a pig, DiNozzo. As if we want to see your underwear, and besides, you strike me as more of a commando type of guy."

"Caitlyn Todd…is that you? You're alive? No. No it can't be. You're meant to be dead! I saw your dead body," Tony responded, shocked to his core. Luckily he didn't blurt out that he ended up her brain matter all over his face. That wouldn't be a cool thing to share with Cate's… what? Was she a doppelganger or even a ghost?Most likely, knowing Cate she was a vampire.

"Not Todd, she's dead. And you better not have ogled my naked body, you pig! My name is Maura Isles and now that you're leaving NCIS, you're free to come to Boston to be my love slave - just as we always planned."

"Excuse me? I don't even know. I know nothing about you, Maura Isle. I don't believe I've ever met you, so why the devil would I move to Boston to be with you?" He demanded, peeved at her outrageous claim.

"I'm a Medical Examiner. The press nicknamed me the 'Queen of the Dead'. And you're coming back with me to be my sex slave because we're meant to be together. We're star crossed lovers and we were meant to have a baby together.

"Plus, I need someone to look after my pet iguana, Eugenia, while I'm at work in the morgue." She pointed at the clothes he was compulsively folding, "And... you won't be needing any of those, since I seem to remember that you like going au naturel." She leered at him, lasciviously.

"How the hell would you know what I do and don't like to do, Lady, and for your information, I don't like reptiles. They're creepy and almost as bad as you vampires. And I'm not your freakin sex slave."

The brown-eyed woman, who looked like a dead ringer for his former um…dead partner, Caitlyn Todd or that actress Shannon Doherty with a dye job, jabbed him in the solar plexus with her pointy elbow, leaving him gasping for breath like a fish flopping around on land."

"Don't be a chauvinist pig, Tony. Finish packing your gear and we can leave ASAP." Tony watched as her phone rang and she nodded, speaking softly. Hanging up she smirked at him.

"Finish up and then when I come back we'll go." She informed him bossily. "I just have to pop down to Autopsy and speak to Ducky about something for a moment."

"You know Ducky?"

"Of course I do. As if I'd make up something like that. I don't lie, unlike some people who shall remain nameless," she accused, glaring at him. "He did my autopsy…we know each other…well."

"He did your autopsy? I knew it was you, Cate!"

"Don't be ridiculous, DiNozzo. You're such a dumb jock, just like I told my sister, Rachel. I said he did an autopsy, jerk. He's a medical examiner; you know…like me." She snarked him before she took to the stairs heading down to Autopsy.

Tony stared after her, shaking his head, wondering if there was some sort of hallucinogenic in the coffee.

Maybe he could set 'Maura' up with Gibbs since he always thought they had the hots for one another and the diversion would let him get out of here unmolested and his modesty intact.

As he picked up his American Pie mug he considered if he wanted to take it with him. McGee had always coveted it and he contemplated giving it to him as a parting gift.

Just at that moment Timothy McGee sauntered into the bull pen with a dramatic sigh as he caught sight of Tony. "Good… you haven't left yet."

Tony eyed his former probie and smiled tightly. "McJust-In-Time! Thank god you're here. I think there's something in the water. It's making people act crazy. They're insisting I'm their sex slave and while on one level it's a little bit flattering, it's 99.9 percent mostly creepy. Ya know?"

McGee pulled out his Sig Saur and approached Tony. "Who's trying to make you their sex slave?" he yelled at him, in a jealous fury. "I'll kill anyone if they touch you. You are mine, DiNozzo! Don't you ever forget that"

Tony stared back at him in confusion. Okay, so he decided not to give McGee his American Pie mug after all, since the man was obviously going to be taking a long trip to the funny farm – he was seriously deranged too. The PTB at the loony bin would undoubtedly confiscate the mug, since they'd deem it as being too dangerous for him to keep in his nice safe padded room.

Speaking slowly, he approached him very cautiously. Addressing his ex-partner like one would a fractious child, he requested, "Tim, why don't you give me the gun, dude? There isn't anyone here but me and we don't want your gun going off and hurting someone, cuz it would most likely be me."

"But now that you're leaving, we're free to be together because we love each other so much and you want to my sex slave. I can't let someone else steal you away after all these years. I have to protect you because you're a needy little sub," McGee whined sulkily, waving his weapon around wildly while people took cover under desks.

"Woa Probie, what have you been sniffing? Elf Lord glue?" he quipped, hoping to talk him down and get his gun.

Seeing McGee's stubborn expression Tony sighed. "We aren't in love, you big doofus. You're with Wheels, remember? You're crazy about her. Besides, if we were together and I'm saying it would be a big 'if', since I don't swing that way, then I wouldn't be the submissive in the relationship - if you catch my drift."

Seeing the befuddled expression on McCrazy's face he elucidated. "Let's just say that our little Goth lab rat was pretty forthcoming about your sex life when you two were sharing the coffin."

"She told you?" He looked chagrined.

"Ages ago, McSubby. Mind you, Wheels was a dead give away. She's not exactly a shrinking violet either, Probie. But no judgement! Now give me your gun."

"No you're wrong. I'm madly in love with you, have been for years and years and I'm a BAMF dom! Now you're leaving we don't have to pretend anymore."

"McDon't- Be-Delusional, you're not in love with me. Most of the time you can't even stand me. Not to mention I'm not gay…except, I did mention it, didn't I? My bad... and for your information, neither are you."

"Yeah I know. I was pretty surprised myself but the boss explained it all to me and I realised that I'd been living in denial all this time. In fact, all of my passive aggressive snarks about you were just a very clever cover to hide the fact I'm bent and have the hots for my ssu…ssuup…"

"Your superior McGee…is that what you can't spit out? And what boss told you that shit? Surely not Gibbs?" Tony couldn't believe that the former Marine would convince Tim of such crap trap…but then again, he was acting pretty hinky earlier on. What with trying to get Tony to perform lewd acts right here in the bull pen. Perhaps it was some ginormous prank."

"No, not Gibbs…the boss."

Tony frowned. "Director Vance told you that you're gay? That I'm gay?"

"And you are my sex slave…never forget that, Slave. But no, not Vance. The boss."

"Why would SecNav tell you something crazy like that? Think about it, McGee. It's crazy!"

"It's not crazy, we're finally going to be together and it wasn't SecNav, it was Gregary Blags who explained it all so it made perfect sense. He called it his McNozzo Moment."

Deciding that Tim was clearly as delusional as everyone else around here, he figured the best course of action was to send him down to Ducky and Palmer. Sure they were MEs but they were also doctors...weren't they? Maybe they could figure out what was going on with him, with 'them'.

"Okay, well that makes sense I guess." Tony decided to go along with his delusion, as he gently took the Sig out of McGee's left hand and absentmindedly slipped in it into the waistband of his trousers, checking the safety catch was on of course. The last thing he need to do was to shoot himself in the ass.

"But hey, Tim. I forgot. Ducky needs you to go down to Autopsy… something about a case."

McGee glared at him for a moment. "Don't go anywhere, Slave. I'll be right back," he ordered, before heading down to Autopsy in the elevator.

Tony rubbed his eyes, feeling a tension headache coming on. Could this be some terrorist plot with some weird poison and who the hell was Gregary Blags, anyway? Probably some character in one of Tim's novels, he decided – after all what sort of name was Gregary Blags?

Right now he decided the best thing he could do was finish up his packing as quickly as possible and slip out of Dodge before Gibbs, Maura or McGee returned and decided to fight over him. That would be super mortifying!

He made his way back to his former desk and picked up his silver letter opener shaped like a dagger, smiling a little as he remembering how Ziva David had always coveted the sterling silver office implement. The elevator pinged and this time a stunning brunette stepped out of Gibbs' 'office.'

Staring at the woman who was dressed somewhat inappropriately for it to be considered as business -casual, she was clad from head to toes in black leather…tight black leather, and carrying a riding crop. He realised she looked remarkably like that hot Israeli actress, Ayelet Zurer. She'd starred alongside Tom Hanks and Ewan McGregor in Angels and Demons – a so-so movie, he'd thought, but a hot, hot actress. Tony watched as she strutted sensuously towards him, grabbing his tie and pulling him towards her. She locked lips with him in a clinch that had everyone in the vicinity cheering wildly, foot stomping or catcalling boorishly.

Putting some distance between them as he pushed her away with the heel of his hand, he tried to marshal his thoughts. This day was too weird. "Can I help you, Miss?"

"Come on Tony, now that you're leaving NCIS you can return to Israel with me and be my sex slave, just as you've always fantasised. Our love was destined to be. When we get back home you can take up your rightful position on your knees and lick my toes."

Tony felt his jaw drop. This had to be a dream…no a nightmare!

"Excuse me Miss, do I know you?"

"Don't act dumb with me Tony. I'm your one true love – we were star- crossed lovers from the day we met over Cate cold stiff body, but tragically, Rule 12 was always stopping us from declaring our love for each other. But that's all changed because I've come back to claim you." She conjured a collar and leash seemingly out of thin air.

Tony backed up in alarm. Perhaps it was him that was going crazy and needed a stay at a nice safe sanatorium. "Who the hell are you, Lady? I've never worked with you."

"Don't be ridiculous, my Hairy Little Ass. I'm Ziva David. I know we haven't seen each other for three years, but before that we worked together for eight years. Surely you recognise me."

"Of course I can recognise Ziva David, and you're NOT her, Lady. You use contractions for one thing and she called me Hairy Little Butt.

"Hairy Little Butt/ Hairy Little Ass… potato/tomato."

When he just glared at her, arms crossed, his body language telegraphing his disbelief she threw up her hands before cussing roundly in Hebrew.

"I told him you would notice."

"Told who?"

"Gregary Blags. He kept saying he needed one last 'TIVA Moment' and that DiNozzo was as dumb as a box of rocks and you'd never notice the switch as long as I had breasts and a pulse."

He stared at her for several moments as if she had two heads before deciding that the stand-in, like 'Real Ziva' was probably crazy as a loon and it was wise to keep out of her way.

"I'm going to the head, who-ever-the-hell-you-are. You better be gone by the time I get back or I'm calling security." Tony threatened as he backed away, too freaked out to turn his back on the crazy dominatrix with the riding crop. "Oh and FYI, crazy-lady-in-leather, the Easter Bunny was about as real as any TIVA Moments, Sweetheart! You can tell your Greggy Bags that," he quipped cynically before disappearing into the haven of the men's' head.

The fake Ziva watched in disgust as the tall, hot guy literally ran away from her. That had not gone to plan – she'd been hired to play tonsil hockey with him and steam up the screen. Scowling, she spied Gregary Blags standing off in a dark corner talking to some old codgers, so the Ziva wannabe strode over and accosted him.

Drilling him with her pointer finger into his chest, she attacked him verbally. "You SAID he'd never notice the substitution. Well guess what…HE NOTICED." She then proceeded to tell him off in what he guessed was Hebrew and wasn't exactly complimentary to him or to his mother. Finally switching back to English she threatened. "I still want my performance fees."

Blags cussed right back at her, using language that would make a sailor blush before turning to his companion. "This is all your fault, Hanne Bransen! You made TIVA into a behemoth the size of Texas, taunting and teasing fans where it never existed and whipped the zealots up into rabid, hysterical lunatics for eight freakin years. You told this would work, asshole. This is a debacle."

"I never said Tony wouldn't notice, dumbass! That's all on you. I said for her to use the Return to Eden* plot contrivance with him. She was supposed to tell him she had to have plastic surgery in Israel because she was pushed out of a boat and horrifically attacked by crocodiles." Bransen shook his head in disgust, chugging down half a bottle of his favourite Fosters beer. What a galah!

Blags looked longingly at the beer, considering swiping it but he was still working. "Oops. I must have zoned out and missed that bit. So what do we do now?"

"Just get a Tony lookalike. As long as you keep the shots long, blur the lense or go for ultra-close close-ups for the kissing scene, they'll never notice. If you tell 'em it's a 'TIVA Moment' they'll believe it. Trust me, mate – I can create a 'TIVA' moment out of nothing."

Gregary Blags looked at his other colleague, Hank Marrom. "What do you think, Hank?"

"Ah…I'm having trouble figuring out about the case of the week and the story arc – cuz how are we going to bring in the replacements before DiNozzo goes."

Bransen rolled his eyes as he chugged the rest of his Fosters. "What plot? Evil nemesis swears revenge on L.J. Gibbs and he triumphs after handing out rough justice. Blah, blah, woof, woof! Didn't you get the memo he sent out?" He gestured at Blags. "How it's been since the Reynosa arc. Just gotta change a few names, kill a few fav reoccurring characters, stir, shake and you're good to go."

Marrom smiled in relief. "Oh okay, I thought that was a memo from last year. Sounds good. Just don't forget to make L.J. dark. None of this fluffy redemption crap. He's gotta be a BAMF!"

Gregary Blags nodded patronisingly, not bothering to explain to him yet again that it WAS the same memo from last year…and the one before that...and the one before that. At NCIS they believed in recycling.

"It's so not about the plot, Hank. I want to give the punters 'Their Moments' so they all go away happy, especial DiNozzo's fans – bless them. It's my signature and now everyone's gonna be happy as a pig in mud. Don't worry about the replacements. Got it covered!"

Yelling loudly to his PA, Gregary ordered, "Hey Babe, make sure you have Abby Tweet pics of Tony's replacement with fangirl squeals about how 'smokin red hot' he is.

"Oh and make sure he ain't wearing a shirt!" he instructed.

Bransen added his two cents worth, "By the way, make sure Abby's wearing a micro-mini when she tweets it and squees about how much she loves Tony!"

Sotto voce he made a discreet call to a minion. "Have someone tweet Tony that he's always welcome to come across to LA," he ordered, his eyes gleaming at pulling off such an audacious coup. Oh and don't forget to congratulate him for such a magnificent achievement, either."

Meanwhile Gregary looked across at Hank. "See? Everything's under control." Smiling he started to sing, "I'm goona wave that man right out of my arms and send him on his way."

End Notes:

1. *Return to Eden was an eighties Australian mini -series.

2. So I written the TIBBS, TATE, McNOZZO and TIVAS Moments in this chapter and surely managed to displease all four ships I trust. More offensive crack-fic coming up in the final chapter tomorrow.

3. Just giving a plug for my crossover parody Serieux Part 2. I've just posted a chapter that contains a tribute to Tony, who Gibbs once labelled the best young agents he'd worked with and Leon told the Admiral from the Joint Chief of Staff that he was one of his best agents. Now the spin is on, to play down his contribution. So I decided that as he won't get a fitting tribute to his skills on this week's season finale, it was up to fanfic authors. My contribution is Chapter Three of Very Special Competent Agent Tony in Serieux (part 2). Check it out and let me know what you think. What would you have added?

4. What do you think the odds are that Gibbs ends up with a red-haired surogate daughter if/when they kill off Fornell tomorrow?