A/N: Another posting that isn't the next installment of Famiglia. But I hope you enjoy this installment of my random-moments-with-only-the-flimsiest-of-threads-holding-it-together collection instead. It's all empty calories with absolutely no nutritional value.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.


Engagement ring

He wonders if this coffee shop is one of the richest in DC. There aren't too many places around with the kind of opening hours this place keeps. Doors open at 0400 and don't close again until midnight, and Tony has darkened the doorstep at every minute in between at one point or another. To his memory, he has never walked into an empty shop. No matter what the time, there is always at least one tired and haggard-looking NCIS agent slumped at a table.

This morning that agent is Bill Baxter, an analyst from computer forensics who worked with McGee for a few months back when Vance first took the directorship reigns and scattered Team Gibbs around the globe. Tony doesn't think he has ever held a conversation with the sandy-haired agent with the face of a teenager, and he doubts that will change today. The kid (although he'd have to be well into his 30s) has fallen asleep with his head on the wooden table, and an errant sachet of low-cal sweetener is doing its duty mopping up the drool that is puddling under the corner of Baxter's mouth. Tony feels a pang of sympathy (or it could be embarrassment) for the guy, and briefly considers poking him in the shoulder to wake him up. But Poh, the coffee shop's resident superhero, will probably do that when she takes him his order. Being awakened by a cute young barista bearing coffee will probably be more of a kick for the guy than being poked awake by a surly, not-quite-middle-aged (at least that's what he tells himself) agent. Tony leaves him alone.

"Poor kid," he mutters to McGee, his companion this early morning. He jerks his thumb at Baxter who truly seems unconscious and oblivious to the group of agents gathering in line around him just past seven in the morning.

McGee aims a look of sympathy and understanding at his former teammate. "I heard his team's closing in on 96 hours."

"If they get to 100, Vance might give them commemorative t-shirts."

McGee cocks an eyebrow and curls his lip in a way that suggests a screen printed Hanes probably wouldn't cut it. "Or he might let them take some overtime."

Tony laughs, because for once he hasn't had the most absurd idea. "Yeah. I bet that happens," he says with more than a little sarcasm.

"Stranger things have happened," McGee mutters as they reach the front of the line.

Poh stands at the ready to take their order, but as soon as she recognizes them her regular perky smile becomes a wide-eyed vision of complete excitement that causes both agents to take half a step backwards.

"Hey!" she practically yells, and then holds her hands out to the side as if delivering a huge present. "Oh my God! Congratulations!"

Tony's response to this unexpected greeting is to frown, blink slowly and then look at his partner. Maybe she's talking to McGee. He considers for a moment that he has forgotten a probie birthday, but McGee looks as clueless as Tony feels. They both turn their eyes back on Poh.

"Thanks," Tony says slowly. "For what?"

Poh chuckles and then points out what she thinks is the obvious. "You're getting married!" she says to Tony.

His frown switches to jaw-dropped shock and his heart switches to 'stopped' mode. "What's that now?" he splutters.

"Your girlfriend was in here this morning," Poh tells him, waving her hand back over her shoulder to signify past events. "She had a diamond on her finger."

His confusion deepens. He is acutely aware that he is making it through the years sans chéri, and in fact there aren't many women in his life at all. Even fewer who Poh would know about. Abby neither drinks coffee nor wears diamonds due to her moral objection to the ways in which both commodities are sourced. Borin chugs brew like she prefers it to air, but he doesn't recall ever coming into this coffee shop with her. He might've struck up a conversation with a female agent here before, but unless they have turned into a stalker there is only one woman to whom Poh could be referring. And that woman happened to be modeling a diamond ring to match her 'hangover couture' dress when he saw her the past weekend.

He feels his face grow warm and he glances at McGee to determine how big of a deal he is going to make this. If the wide grin that screams schadenfreude on Tim's face is any indication, the answer is "a huge deal".

Out of the two, Poh is his preferred torturer. He returns his gaze to her and blocks out thoughts of the hell that surely awaits him at McGee's hands. "She's not my girlfriend," he tells Poh calmly. "And that isn't an engagement ring. It was her grandmother's and she was just wearing it for a wedding. Not hers!" her hastens to add. "Or ours. There's no…ours."

Poh listens patiently, but seems to have trouble accepting what he is telling her. "She's not your girlfriend?"

"No," Tony says firmly over the sounds of McGee's Beavis and Butthead-like chuckling. "We just work together."

"Yeah, I know you work together," Poh replies as her smile falls. "But I thought…I mean, because you're always looking…" She holds onto that thought at Tony's new expression of dread, and shifts her weight to her other foot. "You're not together?" she checks again.

"No."

Poh points her pen at him accusingly. "We're talking about, um, Zena? Is that her name? With the really long brown hair that's sometimes curly—"

"Right," he cuts in, not bothering to provide his other partner's correct name because he just wants this to end.

Poh gives the story she's created in her head a final push. "And the widow's peak?"

"Yeah, not my girlfriend," he says quickly, shaking his head for emphasis. He chances a look at the agents in line behind them and milling around waiting for their coffees. But McGee is the only one paying attention. It's a small comfort. At least the NCIS rumor mill won't get more fuel today.

Poh sends him a suspicious look, and then looks down the counter towards one of the baristas working the coffee machine. "Hey, Marco?"

Tony groans inwardly at her inability to let the conversation die as Marco, a hairless tank of a man in his forties, looks up and then breaks into a big smile at the sight of Tony.

"Hey!" Marco says, taking a moment to leave the coffee machine and wipe his hands on a cloth before reaching over to shake Tony's hand solidly. "Congratulations! Big day, huh?"

Tony starts to shake his head, but Poh takes care of breaking the 'bad' news.

"No, they're not engaged," Poh tells Marco over the sound of McGee's full laughter. "He says they're not even dating. We have to start the pool again."

Tony feels a flash of panicked dizziness. "The pool?"

Marco doesn't answer the question, but instead looks at Tony as if the information he has just been fed cannot possibly be true. "You're not her boyfriend? Then who's she marrying? Is it this guy?" He jerks a thumb at McGee.

Tony glances at McGee to find that his face has turned red and tears are leaking out of his eyes. He looks away quickly.

"He says no one," Poh tells Marco, and then calls to a blonde waitress who has served Tony (and Ziva) a hundred times before. "Hey, Julie? We've got to start again on these two."

Julie stops by Tony with a tray of empty coffee cups balanced in one hand. She beams at him the way the other two did and briefly touches Tony's arm.

"Hey! I made a hundred bucks off you this morning. Thanks! And congratulations."

"He says they're not engaged and they're not even dating," Poh tells her. "You've got to give the hundred bucks back."

Julie gasps and clutches her chest. "No, I don't!" she argues, and then looks at Tony with a suspicious scowl. "What happened? Did you break up already?"

"You had a pool for me and Ziva?" Tony asks, finally putting the information together.

"We have pools for lots of people," Julie tells him. "Yours is the biggest, though. People have been adding to it for years. Why'd you break up?"

"We didn't," Tony impresses on her. "We were never together."

"But your boss is that silver-haired guy, right?" Poh asks. "Who smells like sawdust?"

He begins to lose the feeling in his body below the neck, making it hard to brace for the brutality of the information that is about to be shared.

"Yes," he says softly.

"We talked to him this morning about it for, like, five minutes after Ziva left," Poh tells him. "He said he was really happy for you guys and that he was looking forward to walking her down the aisle."

He feels a momentary pang of hope that Gibbs has provided his blessing for a union that is still not in existence and may never be. But he quickly realizes that Gibbs was most likely having a little fun just to screw with him. Classic Gibbs. You never see his pranks coming, but when they hit you, they knock you on your ass.

Knowing where the information originated calms his racing heart somewhat, and he gives McGee (who is crying with laughter again) a traitorous look. "Are you in on this little prank?"

McGee shakes his head and wipes tears off his cheeks. "I wish I was in on it. This is awesome."

"So it's all Gibbs?"

McGee lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know. He's already my hero. This absolutely cements it."

Tony lets out a deep sigh and looks between the three coffee shop staffers who have been so happy for him this morning. "No engagement," he tells them, bursting their collective bubble definitively. "No wedding. No girlfriend."

"Oh," Poh says, visibly deflating. An awkward moment of silence follows before she resets their morning conversation. "So…venti cappuccino with three sugars?"

"Yes."

She looks at McGee. "Cinnamon latte with cream on top?"

McGee looks up at her from the message he's typing on his phone. "Oh, I won't need the cream today," he tells her with a smile. "Thanks."

They leave the counter to wait out their order. Tony lifts his chin and squares his shoulders as he tries to regain some of his pride. McGee's thumbs dancing over his cell phone screen draw his attention, though, and he gets a bad feeling in his gut.

"What are you doing?" he wants to know.

McGee shakes his head and makes a face of forced innocence. "Nothing. Just texting Abby. Tony and Ziva engaged. Yay!"

Tony makes a grab for the phone to prevent the fallout that particular bomb dropped on that particular target will cause. But McGee sees him coming, and although their brief wrestle is enough to bump Baxter awake finally, he manages to keep the phone out of Tony's reach long enough to bring his thumb down on the screen.

"Sent!"

Tony straightens his tie and tugs at his cuffs in an attempt to regain composure. But he still turns his best Ziva glare on the probie. "You're gonna pay for that."

McGee grins in response and holds his hand up as he counts down the seconds. "Five, four, three, two, one."

Right on time Tony's cell phone rings. He clenches his jaw as he pulls it from his pocket and checks caller ID. It's Abby.

"I'm going to chop you into little pieces and throw you into the Potomac," he warns McGee, and then answers his phone. "Abby, it's just a—"

His attempt at cutting Abby off before she gets started is futile. She is already going, although he cannot make out what she is yelling at him, exactly. He makes out words like "finally" and "Gibbs" and "ninja action babies", and her shrieks seem to be encouraging (which warms him, although he will keep that buried deep inside). He waits it out by glaring at McGee some more until she take a breath and he jumps in.

"Abby, McGee was joking. There's no engagement. No relationship. Gibbs is pulling a prank."

After a seconds-long pause during which he only hears Abby panting, she finally double-checks like a good little Gibbs Rules follower. "You're not engaged?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?" she asks hopefully.

Tony throws his free hand into the air with exasperation. "How can you be just a little bit engaged?" he asks, but doesn't wait for her explanation. "No, we're not. We're not together. We're friends. We're co-workers. That's it."

Abby begins her response with a snort. "Tony, I'll buy that you're not engaged, but don't act like there's nothing there between you. We all know there is. You know there is. She knows there is."

He's no closer now to having a response to the statement ready than he was the first time someone delivered it to him several years ago. Mostly because he knows she's right, but admitting it would cause too much trouble.

He settles for sighing her name before hanging up and pocketing his phone again. Then he crosses his arms and glares at the floor.

McGee does not share his angst. "This is going to be the most fun work day ever."


Tony delays their arrival in the bullpen for as long as he can by walking at half speed. But McGee is determined to get in and begin the next phase of his torture, and Tony knows that he'll do more damage if he arrives alone. In the end, he has to follow.

McGee practically skips off the elevator and over to Ziva's desk. Tony swallows the impulse to pull out his gun and shoot him.

"Oh my God!" McGee cries, parroting the staff from the coffee shop. "Congratulations, Ziva! I can't believe it finally happened!"

Ziva's pen pauses on its journey across her notepad and she looks up at McGee with genuine puzzlement. "What happened?" she asks.

Tony drives the toe of his shoe into the back of McGee's knee hard enough to make him stumble, but not enough to hurt. "McGee," he says warningly, but in his heart he knows that nothing he can say or do will take this moment of fun away from his 'friend'.

Indeed, McGee reaches out to hook his arm around Tony's neck and drag him in for a bro hug. It's as though the two have swapped bodies for the day.

"You guys are engaged!" he cries out happily.

Ziva's eyes bug out as Tony looks for a hole to crawl into.

"What?" she snaps, before turning damning eyes on Tony. He shakes his head firmly, rejecting blame, then all three of them turn to look at Gibbs.

The boss is sitting at his desk and is apparently focused on signing off on reports. But the smirk on his face speaks to his pride over a prank well-pulled, and it's clear he's enjoying the mess of confusion, fluster and glee he's created.

"Show me the ring!" McGee implores, and reaches for Ziva's left hand.

A diamond flashes under the skylight before the probie receives a ninja slap to the back of his grabby hand.

"Enough, McGee," Tony sighs, and makes an escape to his desk. "Take it any further and she'll take you outside and shoot you."

"What is going on?" Ziva demands to know.

McGee does his best impersonation of a breathless gossip girl. "Well. Me and Tony were just at the coffee shop and the staff were all congratulating him on giving you an engagement ring."

Dark, narrowed eyes cut to Tony. "Why would you tell people you gave me an engagement ring?"

"I didn't!" he insists. "You went in this morning with that thing on your hand and I don't know why but they assumed you and me were getting married."

"They even had a betting pool," McGee is keep to point out. "One of the waitresses won a hundred bucks."

Ziva looks at the discreet, tasteful diamond on her finger with new and untrusting eyes. "It was my grandmother's," she begins to explain. It feels as though there is more to the story, but in the end she does not share it.

Tony leaves her with her bewilderment and cocks an eyebrow at the silver-haired man who smells like sawdust. "By the way, boss. They told me about the chat you had with them this morning after Ziva had been in."

Gibbs' eyes don't leave his file, but his smile grows without shame. "Well, it's happy news, DiNozzo."

"You're going to walk her down the aisle?" he says, repeating Poh's gossip in a tone that challenges Gibbs' interest.

Gibbs just nods. "Yup. And help pick the flowers."

Tony shakes his head with a mix of disbelief and awe. "Credit where credit's due. You got me good. But I'll get you back. I don't know how, but I will."

Gibbs chuckles at what he knows is an empty threat as McGee heads to his desk with a grin.

"I love today," he declares.

"It's a special day I'm sure we'll all remember, Tim," Gibbs rejoins.

As the others boot up their computers, Ziva looks between her three teammates with a frown.

"I am still confused," she admits.

Tony shakes his head at her, signaling that she should just let it go. Then Gibbs' cell phone rings and offers an excellent distraction.

"Yeah, it's Gibbs."

The other three watch him with keen interest. When he reaches for a pen they take it for the cue it is. They gather up their badges, guns and backpacks as Gibbs scrawls an address. By the time he hangs up and stands, they're ready to go.

"Dead sailor on a boat in the Chesapeake."

He leads the way to the elevator, and as they all pile in Tony catches Ziva sneaking a peek at the ring on her finger. His stomach knots, although not entirely unpleasantly. He looks away when he realizes that McGee and Gibbs are both watching him watch her. Suddenly the wall is very interesting.

He thinks they might get away without any more attention until the doors close and Gibbs lands a final kick.

"So. Where are you two setting up the gift registry?"


I feel like this is probably a trope but hopefully it didn't stink. One more installment to come.