Tony's nervous hand suddenly clenched into a fist, the man on the verge of exploding.
"Come on, come on, Tony, you can do it...!"
"...And what is that new stupid thing that you want to do, Tony?" Ziva started to mock him, dropping her bag next to her feet.
The agent brusquely pointed a finger at the sky, ordering silence.
"I can't talk to you right now, David, I'm in the middle of an emergency."
"An emergency?" The woman's eyebrows lowered immediately, the female agent approaching his working area. "What is going on, can I help you with someth..."
"...and YES!" he punched his desk and stood up, victorious. He played drums with both his palms, sharing his excitement. "Lawrence of Arabia, 1962, directed by...David Lean!"
"Tony, wait, what are you talking about, and who on earth is this David L..."
The male agent strongly grabbed his teammate's shoulders, looking incredibly happy.
"I just beat my old record on WhatsMyClassic, David! That damn little Ricky can go back to his room and cry! What are you gonna do, Ricky, uh?" he asked the invisible. "Call your mommy to blow your nose on her dress?"
Ziva instantly stepped back and reflexively chuckled, now understanding.
"Wait, Ricky? You mean Ricky, as in Richard Golberg, the kid who's been hiding on the ship, that we rescued last month?"
"Well, no..."
"He's ten years old, Tony!" she started to laugh.
"No, that's another one I was talking about, David! He's...in his forties, uh, very...masculine, and..."
"Yeah, whatever, Tony" Ziva smiled after patting him on the cheek, rejoining her desk.
"I swear," Tony warned as he sat back, "if you tell anyone I was..."
"...attracted by Ricky, man in his forties, very...masculine?" Gibbs suddenly arrived from nowhere, crossing both his arms on top of his agent's computer, savoring the moment.
Jethro kept his eyes on the male agent for what seemed to last an eternity, smiling at him. Tony instinctively forced himself to smile back, revealing bright teeth.
"Hey...boss" he tried to say. "It's just...I mean, it's not what you think, you know...Well, maybe you think you've heard something, but I just..." He took a deep breath and started to wring his hands, desperately looking for a way to escape.
"Yes, DiNozzo?"
Gibbs' devious grin didn't leave his lips as he watched his agent struggling, Ziva obviously enjoying the show from her spot.
"Do you...do you like baked lasagna...?"
"What?" both Jethro and Ziva pronounced altogether, taken aback.
"I mean...you know, people have different oppinions about the dish, whether it's too fat or too greasy, but it's actually a really great one, full of proteins, and..."
Gibbs' mockery brusquely stopped as he slammed his hand on Tony's desk, this time, finally walking to his own. He then took a sip of his black coffee and put the cup on the side, obviously lacking motivation to focus on old files.
"Don't the two of you have work to do?" he almost shouted.
"The two of us have a lot of work to do" Tony repeated instantly like an obedient robot, his head low.
"Wait," Jethro noticed, raising his own straight away. "Why is it just the two of you? Where the hell is McGee?"
"We...thought he might have been with you, Gibbs" Ziva dared answering.
"Well, obviously he's not."
Gibbs dropped his files - almost secretely grateful for the opportunity - and started to leave the bullpen, frustrated.
"I wouldn't like to be McGee right now..." Tony commented once it was only the two of them again.
"Because you think he's done with you?" Ziva smiled.
The male agent was about to answer when the ding of the elevator interrupted his speech, a tall man rushing into the bullpen.
"Wow, someone should use some more deodorant...you stink, McGee."
Tim didn't bother retorting anything and kept running to his desk like a hunted animal, his eyes desperately glancing at Jethro's.
"Oh my God, where is he?" The younger agent quickly dropped on his seat and let out a whoosh of air, relieved. "He's not here yet? Amazing."
Ziva slowly stood up and approached his working area, smiling deviously.
"Actually, McGee...he was here a minute ago, and he didn't seem pretty glad to not see you in here..."
"Oh come on, Ziva, the traffic has been awful."
"You could do like me and go jogging" she proposed. "In Mossad, for example, I used to wake up at four everyday, to run and..."
"Easy now, Terminator. You know, some of us actually prefer enjoying a nice American breakfast in the morning before driving to work in a beautiful James Bond style car rather than using their feet for two damn hours a day" Tony joined the conversation. "Alright, how awful, McDriver?"
"So awful I've done things Ziva would be proud of" Tim admitted, still breathless.
"That bad?" both his teammates wondered.
"Yeah..."
Tim nodded and shook his head as if to help himself focus. He then immediately logged in and started to type, hoping he wouldn't be in trouble anytime soon.
One hour later...
"...I'm sorry, boss. Traffic has been awful, but it won't happen again" Tim instantly stood up and pronounced as Gibbs left the elevator, knowing he was good for being exiled to Hell.
"No, it won't" the man confirmed and threatened at the same time.
"I was here only one minute after you, I swear..."
"Still one minute too late, McGee! Now there is no dead body to investigate on, so no excuses. Keep working on your reports - all of you - before I decide to make you stay here and work non-stop until tomorrow evening."
"Got it, boss."
...Two hours passed without Gibbs, or even Abby walking furiously into the bullpen, both Ziva and Tim visibly focused of their respective tasks. Tony stretched his legs for a minute before he did the same with his arms, extremely bored. He finally made his seat turn like a fairground attraction, ready to clear his head with anything or anyone available.
"Is it how you do what Gibbs told you to do?" Ziva questioned him from her space.
"The big boss isn't here, Agent David."
She bent forward and grinned, her eyes on Tony.
"The big boss is always here, Agent DiNozzo."
The man pointed a finger in her direction, eager for another stupid explaination of his.
"You know, Ziva, it's been proved that a lot of genius often use unexpected techniques to boost their concentration so that they could create a great masterpiece."
"A genius, really?" she got curious." And since when working on a report is similar to creating a masterpiece, Tony?"
The man briefly chuckled before he was in need of a new - bigger - distraction, frustrated to be spending such a calm day at the office. He ended up throwing a paper ball and caught it, repeating the same movement over and over again.
"For God's sake, DiNozzo...stop it!" the former Mossad agent ordered, breaking her pencil.
"Oh, come on, guys! Ziva..." The woman rolled her eyes for a second and then got back to work straight away. "Okay, McGee, maybe you can..."
"I'm writing, Tony..." Tim answered in turn, hypnotized by his screen, thinking about murder. Ten seconds later, Tony's shadow was already behind the man at his right, like a playful kid looking for a better distraction. He placed his head over the young agent's shoulder, spying on him with delight. Tim's writing style was perfect, so perfect, as usual, as if any report he'd ever had worked on in his life could have been a chapter of his own novel. It must be so boring sometimes, being McGee. "You know what, Tony? I think I'm gonna take a quick break. You're breathing all my oxygene" Tim finally spoke up, the man's presence seriously getting on his nerves.
"Great! I was actually thinking of stretching my legs a bit, and..."
"You're not coming, Tony."
"Well, someone is grumpy, today... Don't go too far, McGeek, the boss might want to kill you next time if he doesn't see you in here!" But his co-worker was already heading to the vending machine, hopeful that this little break would do him some good. "Well, well, well...what is there to discover about our famous writer that is not either uninteresting or completely tasteless..."
"You know, Tony, sometimes I wonder why Tim doesn't have much sympathy for you" Ziva mocked him from her seat, exasperated.
"Yeah, whatever, David. I can't talk when I'm on a mission..." he added.
"...So?" the woman finally asked after some time, too proud to admit her curiosity.
Tony dropped on Tim's seat, even more frustrated than before. If there was one thing he hated the most in the world, it was spending his day writing reports. If he was glad, somehow, that no other body had been found dead yet, he had to say that it was making things way more tiring.
"Nothing new to torture him about, if that's what you ask..." he sighed, disappointed. "I guess he..."
"...What the hell are you doing at my desk, Tony? Get out!" Tim suddenly arrived from nowhere, throwing his granola bar next to his keypad. Ziva immediately pretended to focus on something else and the male agent obediently stood up, noticing one new email. Tim sat back and reflexively opened it before realizing Tony was still behind. "Can I help you?" he questioned him once more, furious.
"Well, ten seconds ago, I would have said no, but...now, yeah" Tony smiled, insufferable.
"God, do you ever stop?"
"Well...for that first question, the answer is no. Now my second question is about this: what is 'The Center of Sweet White Roses'?" Tony didn't bother listening to any of Tim's threats and started reading out loud.
Tim closed the email's window straight away but it was already too late, even Ziva was interested.
"An advertisement."
"Mmh, no way, McFlower, don't lie to me."
"Alright, alright. This, is another reason why I don't let anyone - especially you - read my emails, Tony."
Tony wished he could have teased McGee more about what he'd just read, but his co-worker suddenly looked so mad that he decided to try to control his emotions for once, keeping the jokes for later. When McGee had red cheeks, it meant that some blood was boiling somewhere, and it was never good news for anyone's future.
"Have you been...stressed out, recently?" he then wondered calmly, intending to not laugh.
Tim deeply exhaled before turning his head in the man's direction, exasperated. Now there was no way for Tony to forget about this. He knew he'd become the new funniest subject on the month at NCIS.
"Maybe I am willing to relax this weekend, indeed, Tony" Tim kept himself from sounding too rude. "Now whether you understand it or not, they have activities like yoga and meditation, activities I could easily use to get rid of any...tensions."
''Tensions...'' Tony couldn't help but whisper with obvious irony, repressing a new laugh. ''Mmh...okay. I understand, McGee. No, really. That...that explains a lot about you, actually.''
"Fine, whatever, Tony" Tim said, knowing everything he could add would be useless anyway, sadly hearing the numerous gasps...
...Both Ziva and the man discreetly took a look at each other once Gibbs joined back their space, everyone trying not to make any new compromising comment that might make them stay overnight and regret their actions.
Two days later...
"...Oh come on, McGee! Two times I proposed you to go to that pool party with me! Last week you already said no, but today we have the opportunity to go there again! It's a sign! What else do you need, uh?''
"Again, Tony..."
"Yes?"
"No."
"But why not? It's the beginning of the summer, there'll be beautiful girls, free beers... Picture that, McGee, you and me showing off our biceps..."
"I could come" Ziva smilingly said, dropping her bag next to her desk. "I'd love to admire you and McGee's...biceps" she added, winking at Tony.
"Only for boys, David, sorry. Oy, McGee, come on...!"
"No, Tony. I'm not going anywhere where I have to show off my body to anyone" Tim almost robotically commented again while typing on his keypad, focused on his screen.
"Damn it, McGee!" Tony slammed his palm on his desk before giving up, taking a seat. Two days had passed. Two damn days had passed and he was really starting to regret to not have a single body in Ducky's autopsy room... He was finally about to force himself to work when he took one last look at his teammate, wondering... "Okay, and what about a drink at our usual bar after work? No naked body, only beers, I promise" he almost said with sadness. "And look, it'll be good for...you know, relaxing, right? Come on, just a couple of drinks, McGee, that's all I'm asking for. I'm dying for a night out."
"And that, I can join" Ziva said.
"Exactly! So? What do you say?"
Tim finished typing a line and raised his head in the end, his eyes on the male agent.
"If I say yes, Tony...will you leave me alone, at least for the day?"
Tony brusquely stood up and almost knelt down in front of him.
"Yes! Yes, I promise. No more jokes for today...I'll try."
Tim lowered both eyebrows and reluctantly nodded, pushing back his seat. That'd be all he would get from Tony. Anyway, he had to get out of here, at least for a minute, and he'd better do it before Gibbs would decide to check on whatever they were doing...or not doing, exactly. Gibbs never liked anything which was not case-related during working hours, hell no.
"I'm coming back," he slightly groaned, "anyone wants anything?"
Tony instantly took some cash out of his pocket, now obviously in a better mood.
"Drinks on me, alright?" Tim nodded again, although he was still feeling a bit suspicious about the man's previous promise. He finally accepted the money and walked away from his two oppressing teammates. "Damn it, it's hard to take the bear out of his cave, these days... McMowgli seems to go through a big I-just-want-to-stay-home phase."
"Well, maybe that's what he wants for now. Remind me, why do you even care?" Ziva asked honestly, stretching her arms over her head.
"I don't know. Maybe I want a buddy to have fun with."
Ziva's chuckle escaped her teeth, herself despising him with her eyes.
"Pretty silent with the women, these days, uh?"
"Maybe..." Tony admitted.
"Yeah," the female agent smiled again, "maybe."
Tony went back to his seat, too proud to admit he hadn't been lucky with love since the beginning of the summer. Maybe he'd finish his umpteenth report after all, since he hadn't anything else to do and had sworn to give McGee a break for the next coming hours...
''...Sorry.''
Tim reflexively smiled at his colleague leaving the men's room and pushed the door. The touch of Tony's cash in his pocket reminded him of his future task so he then carefully approached the sink, checking the time. He took a discreet look in both direction, making sure he was alone, and finally rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands, revealing the marks on his wrists. The soap irritated them a bit but that was still something he could handle, both wounds now getting a bit old. He sighed and watched his reflection in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned a part of his shirt. The mark under the neck wasn't that bad and pretty small, in fact, it'd handle a little cleaning as well without any problem. The one on his torso might take a little longer to heal, though, so he'd probably wait to be home to provide it some extra treatment. He touched the small one under his neck and splashed some fresh water on it, slightly clenching his teeth... He'd better get used to it...it was certainly just the beginning. He soon heard footsteps so he buttoned up his shirt - quick as a flash - and walked away from the sink, approaching the door.
"Hey, boss" he almost jumped, noticing Gibbs' shadow as he opened it.
"What are you doing here, McGee?" Jethro asked his own serious way, as usual.
Well, that was a weird question.
"Nothing, boss" Tim forced a smile. "I'll be back in a minute. I'm on coffee duty."
Gibbs briefly glanced at his agent and raised an arm in the air, inviting him to go first.
"Alright. Go, then."