The Mallard Chronicles

Drop It DiNozzo!

Authors' Note: This chapter is from Tony's point of view. I will be chopping and changing with each chapter so Chapter 4 might be from Gibbs' POV and Chapter 5 might be from Ziva's. Depends on how I'm feeling when I sit down to write it.

I sat at my desk, eyes unfocused on the report in front of me. My mind had better things to do then paperwork. Things like figuring out who Ducky's girlfriend is. I broke the silence halfway through my thought.

'Right, so, her name is Megan and she didn't sound American so that narrows it down. Hey, Probie, you know this reminds me of a Hugh Grant movie. You know? Guy meets girl on an off chance, she rejects him and then he spends the rest of the movie trying to find out who she is etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.'

'Tony,' McGeek sounded more annoyed at me than usual. 'Why are you obsessing over one woman who turned you down because she's seeing someone else?'

'Because, McBlind, of whom she is seeing. Obviously you didn't notice her hanging off the arm; or rather entire side, or our good Doctor and she did say she was taken by a blond. Besides, I wanna know how he does it.'

McNervous looked more, well, nervous.

'Does what?'

'Get the good ones Probie. What did you think I meant?'

Ziva glared at me over her computer screen. I suppose I should have been scared.

'We do not know if she is "going out" with Doctor Mallard.'

I stabbed my ball point pen in her direction to make a point.

'Come on Ziva. You don't hang onto someone like that if nothing's goin' on behind the scenes. They practically had their hands in each other's pockets and he called her "my dear". I nodded as if it was clear as black and white.

McGee shook his head at me.

'Tony, he calls most women "my dear". It's like a British thing or something.'

'Yeah but most of them aren't lookin' like a wide eyed little lamb going baa baa after the farmer carrying a bottle of warm milk.'

Ziva looked puzzled and her face screwed up in an attempt to understand my analogy. I saved her the effort.

'Never mind Ziva... I still wanna know who she is. Hey, McWiz, can you do a search for all non-American Megan's?'

'Do it yourself Tony, I've better things to do.'

Wow. I was shocked. Little Timmy was actually standing up for himself. Feeling a bit pleased and a little proud of my Junior Field Agent, I brought up our search program and entered in "Megan". Only thirty six million hits. Great!

A few taps and twenty five levels of Tetris later and I had it narrowed down to one million. Exclude all non-brown haired women plus the other characteristics I thought she didn't have and…

'Ding! Ding! DING! Ha! Ha! HA! Who rocks, huh? Who? ME!'

But before I had a chance to pull up the file on Megan Bronide I got that foreboding feeling you only get when Gibbs is hovering right behind your shoulder watching everything you do. I shut my screen down faster than you could say "Flash Gordon".

'Oh, uh, Boss, I was just…'

I shut my mouth at the familiar feeling of my brains being smashed forward in my skull. I swear Gibbs' hand is one of the leading causes in brain damage.

He stalked to his desk demanding I 'Drop it, DiNozzo!'

NO WAY! I hoped my mouth wasn't as open as I though it was. Gibbs knows who she is? Wait, stupid question. Of course Gibbs knows who she is; he's Gibbs.

I silently grumbled and moaned as I turned off the program, but not before I noticed the little capital F, B and I underneath her name followed by a C, I and A next to an N, C, I and S.

Oh god. What was it the Director was saying about inter-agency cooperation?