Drunken Encounter
Chapter 2
Summary: Tony and McGee discuss Braveheart...or something like it.
XXX
"So, it's like this, Probie. Stay inside the dotted lines."
"I thought you were driving..." the sneer wasn't hidden all too well. McGee would learn. His street smarts left, well, nothing to the imagination. He started up the engine and left the parking lot at a slow crawl.
"Uh, had a change of heart. Thought I'd go through another near-death experience."
"So Gibbs has the key to your heart, then?"
Tony was taken aback by the comment. Did McGee really suggest a homosexual joke upon him? "Are you taking comedy lessons from Ziva, now?"
"Naw, I learn from the best!" he patted Tony's shoulder.
"Dotted lines, Probie!" Tony pointed at the road. All he was doing was feeding the trolls. Don't give him any distractions, and you might just live.
A few silent moments later, Tony couldn't help but to speak. It was in his nature. "Did you ever see Braveheart?"
"Uh, what...?"
"Ya know...Mel Gibson...William Wallace? C'mon, Probie, it's part of Earth's history!"
McGee didn't respond. He kept his arms rigid and his hands tight around the large black wheel. He stared out directly in front of him, with no hint as to what he was thinking on his face. The only movement he made was checking his mirrors every now and then. Even his breathing seemed rhythmic.
"We really need to visit the video store--"
"I've seen it, Tony."
"Oh," he frowned, "Why didn't you say so?"
"Because..." he trailed off. "Can you see Gibbs?"
Tony scanned the cars in front of them. There was the usual rusty hick truck, the blonde in the red convertible, the family van, and the 'pimped out ride' with the bass turned up to high. The black Charger was directly three cars in front of them. "You can't see the car that's basically emitting that 'come near me and die,' vibe?"
"Right."
"And don't change the subject again."
"Okay."
There was a silence again. McGee appeared to be basking in it, occasionally making it obvious by smiling and humming to himself. Even the sun came out from behind the clouds to shine on McGee's already bright expression.
"Why didn't you say so?" Tony repeated suddenly.
"Oh, look. It's starting to rain."
"Oh c'mon, Probie! We're bonding!"
"You really want to know, Tony?"
"Yes. I do, McGee. Let it out...let it flow."
"Alright. I'll tell you why," he squeezed the wheel, "I thought you'd make some joke about how you'd do to me what they do to William Wallace at the end."
"Oh." Tony hadn't thought of that, but he should've. He found it a little too amusing and laughed out loud. "You did defy a king, Probie."
"Since when is Gibbs a king?"
"...since when did you defy Gibbs?"
McGee shook his head knowingly, "You were talking about yourself, weren't you?" He didn't give Tony a chance to respond, "This is exactly why I said I hadn't seen the movie. You always make a big dramatic thing over it. Actually, you do either way."
"You brought it up! I hadn't even thought of it."
"How was I supposed to know that?" he suddenly looked panic stricken. "Where did Gibbs go?"
"This is exactly why probies don't drive." Tony burst out laughing.
"It's not that funny, Tony."
"Now you've defied Gibbs! Do I get to disembowel you?" he was smiling only in a way a cat might smile as it tortures a mouse before killing it. McGee ignored him and parked in front of a Mexican restaurant as they drove into Georgetown.
"Never go there." Tony pointed at the red-bricked section squished between a Nike shoe store and a souvenir shop. Even McGee didn't deserve that kind of pain.
McGee shook his head, again. "Should we call Gibbs, then?"
"Um, you should call Gibbs."
"Why me?"
Tony scoffed, "You lost him."
McGee threw his hands up, "You distracted me!"
"I still don't really understand this whole...it's always my fault thing. When you really think about it, Gibbs made you drive, so--" Tony stopped.
"Oh, say it, Tony."
Tony leant toward McGee and lowered his voice, "He has the truck wired, I'm sure." He wasn't about to admit anything was Gibbs' fault out loud, especially with McGee as a material witness.
McGee rolled his eyes. This is exactly why he would never go anywhere near a video store with Tony.
"Hey, look! The 'Movie Emporium'! You call Gibbs, and then come get me when you sew your ear back on," he opened the passenger door and hopped out. He turned to close the door and found a red-faced McGee shaking his head.
"What? He'll yell it right off, McGee, I'm not kidding you..."
"No, I mean, don't go."
"Awe, afraid to be alone?"
"No, Ziva just messaged me," McGee scanned his Blackberry, "I know where they are."
"Oh!" he threw his pack at McGee and jumped back in. "Then what are you waiting for? Let's go!"
"What's in that?" McGee started the engine with one hand and rubbed his newly sore cheek with the other.
"Oh, just a couple of bricks..." Tony smiled to himself as he checked through his bag. "What was my gun doing in here? Hmm." He pulled it out to put it in his holster. "Oops, the safety's not on, either." He didn't have to wait too long for McGee's reaction, which was purely silent worry and concern. His face was totally drained with blood.
"You threw your pack at me...with a loaded gun in it?"
"No! I was just demonstrating what it is you make experienced agents like myself feel when you make rookie mistakes," he pulled the trigger of his squirt gun, hitting McGee's bruised cheek twice with a thin stream of water. "Lessoned learned, no harm, no foul."
"I hate you, DiNozzo."
"You'd get along well with my father."
This time the silence was awkward, and the rain continued to fall lightly on the vehicle. Tony hadn't meant for it to be uncomfortable, but it was hard when McGee took it seriously. The longer they stayed quiet, the more the tension built up between them, almost crushing them against the sides of the vehicle. They came up to a red light near the end of Georgetown. Tony turned to tell McGee an icebreaker, but found him rolling down his window as a man waved and jogged to the side of the truck.
He seemed average enough, short, dark kempt hair, clean shaven, tanned, with a dark blue blazer and light jeans. Though, Tony noted, he was only about 5'6''. "Hey, can I get a ride?"
"Uh..." McGee was obviously expecting him to ask for directions or something of the like.
"No, McGee!" Tony hissed.
"Please? My 12-year-old kid is just at the Arcade. I haven't lived here very long, I don't really know where I am."
"Uh, okay...go around to the passenger side," McGee frowned as he rolled his window up.
Tony gaped at him. "McGee! What the hell are you thinking? This is a government vehicle!"
Before he could respond, Tony's door swung open. "Uh, hi there, Buddy. We actually--oh, okay!" The man stepped up into the truck, positioning to step over Tony. "You know what? I'll move over..." Tony shifted himself to the center seat next to McGee, who was cowering under Tony's glare.
"Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it."
Tony's eyes involuntarily widened at the sudden and excessive sent of alcohol filled his nose, mixed with familiar cologne. The man slammed his door closed.
"Uh, no problem." McGee muttered. The three of them sat quietly, the all too common tension easing its way around their bodies.
When the hell is the light gonna turn!
After eternity and then some went by, the red light faded, and the green light beckoned to Tony like something from the divine. It was all shattered when someone in a silver Camry went through a red light coming the other way, causing McGee to slam on the breaks. "Whoever taught him to drive might want to consider shooting themselves," Tony muttered, shaking his head. McGee chuckled quietly to himself. Their guest, hearing this, forced a loud, distinctive nasal, high pitched laugh, that caused the two agents to shudder with a mixture of annoyance and pure uncomfortable emotional pain.
"Sorry, got a little too excited, there."
Are we there yet?
XXX
TBC