Tempie

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Disclaimer: Not that I can think of. Unfortunately, nothing is mine. Actually, that depends on your point of view. Heh.

A/N: I apologize if this has been done before. It didn't seem that original to me. Why did I do it then, you might ask? To that I would say, I really don't know.

Rating: T for sexual language.

Continuity: Post Kate.

Summary: The NCIS squad has to deal with an unruly temporary team member.

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Chapter 1

Probie's Problem

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Tim McGee knew a lot of things, despite when his colleagues—scratch that—when Tony DiNozzo told him otherwise. He knew for instance why the sky was blue. He knew who had just won the Nobel Prize, and he could tell you anything about literature. What he couldn't seem to figure out at that moment was how anyone could fit so much porn onto one computer hard drive.

Tony was two hours late. He hadn't called, and Gibbs wanted a file off of his computer. He wasn't really that specific. "Get me anything on the Italian Mafia job Tony worked on in Baltimore a couple years ago." Therefore, McGee was the chosen victim to dig through that of Tony DiNozzo's massive mess of a computer. To be perfectly honest, he figured there would be a random 'steamy' pop up every now and then, but the computer was literally full to the brink with them. It was impossible to manoeuvre through; every second file was X rated. He was surprised the thing could run as fast as it did.

"Excuse me, this is a professional work environment."

McGee felt his stomach drop to his feet and then shoot up to his fried brain as a woman's voice struck his ears directly over his shoulder from behind the short cubicle-like wall. "Screw yourself on your own time."

McGee used the toe of his shoe to slowly turn Tony's chair to face her. He literally felt his lungs empty at the sight of her. She was absolutely gorgeous. McGee was not normally one to judge women by their outer appearance (and he had just seen a lot of, well, good looking women) but he couldn't believe his eyes. She had thick, shiny shoulder-length auburn hair, full lips, and a Mediterranean complexion. Her cheeks and eyes were accented subtlety with natural make-up that matched her brown-black skirt suit, and she held herself proudly. The only unappealing thing about her was that the corners over her mouth were turned down and her forehead was wrinkled in a scowl.

She rapped her well-kept nails on the wall top. "If you'd close your mouth, that'd be great."

He did so immediately, swallowing the pool of saliva that had suddenly formed around his teeth. What was wrong with him? He gripped the chair's armrests anxiously with sweaty hands. That was it. It was the chair. The chair made people horny and perverted. Tony sat here. That explained it. With only that thought in mind, he bolted upwards out of the chair, causing it to spin around on the spot. The woman took a step back in revelation of the abrupt movement.

McGee looked at her, and realized, just then, what it must have looked like he had been doing. "Oh no, no, no! This isn't my computer, my boss—"

"Of course it isn't your computer…" she took a cautious step back towards the flustered agent and peered over the barrier, "Tony." She seemed to nod in approval. A smile briefly curled onto her lips and then vanished.

It was McGee's turn to frown. He followed her gaze to the nameplate behind him. Good lord. "That's not—"

"I might have to tell the director about you." She flashed him an impious grin, turned on her heel and glided out of the squad room.

McGee was left standing there without a clear thought in his head. He blinked hard. Was that embarrassing or exciting? Or was it both? Probably both.

A sudden deep-throated moan of pleasure erupted noisily from the speakers. He immediately felt about thirty eyes look up and pierce him. He then decided that that would be a great time to hide under the desk (even if it was Tony's), curl up into a little, tiny, miniscule ball and die.

"Probie!" Too late. "What the hell are you doing!"

McGee reluctantly turned around and found Tony standing on the opposite side of the desk. He was glaring at him with an excess of intensity. The younger agent swallowed hard again, wondering if his saliva glands were in need of serious inspection. He straightened his face and folded his hands in front of him. "What do you mean?"

Tony held a drenched paper bag in a shaky hand. McGee realized that his leather jacket sleeve was half torn off at the shoulder and he had a scratch on his cheek; a red, swollen oval encircled it. His hair was in every direction.

"What happened to you?"

"I fell," he said quickly, and changed the subject back, "What are you doing on my computer?"

"I um…Gibbs wanted something. And you weren't here. So…he asked me to umm…get it for him," he started to inch away from Tony, who emitted a stench he wasn't exactly fond of. Tony lunged at him threateningly, still clutching the bag, and making McGee scuttled away in alarm.

Tony stepped around the corner of his desk to look at the monitor, "Wow, Probie, you don't need my computer to look at that…"

"I wasn't looking for that! It's impossible to find anything of actual value on—"

"I didn't know you liked that sort of thing?" he cocked his head at the monitor and then glanced in McGee's direction.

"Tony! You have a disease! I was looking for a file for Gibbs." McGee felt like he was repeating himself. It was most likely because he was.

"But you thought you'd enjoy some skin while you did that?" he raised an eyebrow.

McGee felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands, and he knew his face would probably made a tomato look white.

"What were you looking for?"

"I don't even remember. Mafia…"

"I've had more than one run in with them, Probie…but I do have a neatly organized file with that kind of junk in it." He bent over and reached for the mouse, "And before you judge me, I didn't organize it myself. The FBI did it when…" he angrily muttered something indecipherable, "…Chip…"

"I wonder how they reacted when they saw all your…umm…'work related' files?" he folded his arms, hoping the embarrassment would finally be forced on someone else.

Tony casually brushed it off, "Is this what you were looking for?"

McGee looked over his shoulder and watched as he minimized the opened photo and moved the mouse over to a folder labelled 'Mafia.' Tony straightened his back. "Hmm?"

"Well, I…hadn't quite looked there yet."

"It's the only folder on the page, Probie," he shrugged, "Just admit it. You have a problem."

"It's your computer!" McGee exploded.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs appeared around the corner and stomped over. "Where were you!"

"Uh. I—"

"And what happened?"

"I…fell."

"On a moving car?"

"Um," slightly panicked, he glanced to McGee and then back to Gibbs, "Here!" he shoved the drenched paper bag to his chest. "That was coffee and a doughnut for you, Boss."

The senior agent grimaced, "What is it now?" he brought it to his nose and sniffed it. "It smells like something died in here."

"I think that's Tony," McGee muttered.

"Your coffee always smells like that, Boss." He shot a death glare in McGee's direction, and sighed as Gibbs tossed it into a nearby garbage can.

"Did you find anything, McGee?" Gibbs wrung his hands.

McGee opened his mouth, but Tony beat him to it, "He was looking at dirty stuff, Boss. And it wasn't just the regular dirty stuff. It was pretty hardcore."

"What?" Gibbs pulled the monitor towards him and scanned the screen, "It looks like he found it."

"No, I did that. He," Tony grabbed the monitor and pulled it to face him again, "was looking at this." He maximized the photo and pushed the monitor back to Gibbs whose eyes widened as they met the screen.

"I had no idea you liked that sort of thing, McGee."

"IT'S ON TONY'S COMPUTER!" he grabbed his head and tried to squeeze his brain out so he wouldn't be conscious anymore.

"I see that, McGee." He cringed as he saw the picture again. "Send me those files, DiNozzo," he uneasily turned and went to his own computer.

"Umm…okay…" he frowned and sat down in his chair. "Whoa, Probie, what did you do to this!" He glowered at McGee as the chair slowly lowered itself to the shortest level under Tony's weight.

"I would help you. But I don't want to." He stuck up his nose and walked towards the elevator. He was going to go see what Abby was up to. It couldn't have been worse than this. As he stepped into the elevator car, he felt like he was home free.

"I didn't mean the porn files, DiNozzo!"

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A/N: Okay, so the random woman was mine. And I will get into the plot in the next chapter.