The bag of ice felt quite nice as McGee held it against the lump on the side of his head. He had indeed hit his head. But he wasn't concussed. Nor had he been hallucinating at any point. Which was… rather worrying.

He looked around the room carefully. Doyle had swept up all the glass and had also cleaned up the bodies of the three demon ninjas. McGee wasn't sure where he'd put the bodies and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. That might mean asking questions about how to dispose of the bodies of demons and the federal agent in him was still shying away from that.

In the meantime Cordelia was busy pulling her personal things out of the shattered remains of the desk, all the time muttering about wastage and the need for non-cheapo desks, whilst Faith and Wesley had dragged away the remains of the huge demon.

McGee shuddered. He still didn't like to think about that thing. What had been especially interesting had been Callen's reaction to it. Ten minutes after the thing had been killed by the Jed… by the Jed… by Oz, there had been a growling noise outside that denoted the arrival of Callen and US Marshal Stark in a SUV that was so large and apparently so well armoured that it could have been driven through several walls and emerged unscathed.

Callen had popped out, wearing body armour and armed with a shotgun and had run in – before stopping dead at the sight of the demons and whistling. "Quite a party," he'd muttered, whilst McGee, who had been trying to think of a way of explaining it all that didn't sound completely insane, closed his mouth with a snap. "You all ok?"

"You… know about demons then?" The moment that the words left his mouth McGee knew that this was a redundant question. Especially when Callen gave him a 'duh' look.

"McGee, I've lived in so many places in LA that I have a very good idea about what lives out there. One day I'll take you a place called Caritas." He'd grinned and then looked serious. "Right, where's the witness? There's a bunch of unconscious people at the end of the road who have Wolfram & Hart written all over them, but I have no idea what happened to them or how long they'll stay asleep."

"I happened to them and they'll be out for a while," Oz had said with a smile. The two men had sized each other up and then Oz had nodded and disappeared downstairs. Not long afterwards a pale and visibly nervous man in his mid-20's had been brought up by an even paler man with gelled hair and who set McGee's teeth on edge for no real discernible reason that he could work out. The witness had been handed over to Callen, who had then run out of the office with him into the SUV, which had then taken off for the courthouse with a squeal of tyres.

He was now becalmed in what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary office, albeit a perfectly normal office with off stains on the floor, a shattered doorway and smashed windows.

Hearing footsteps he looked up. Oz was walking across the floor towards him. He looked, well, like a perfectly normal person. Ok, a perfectly normal person with a slightly odd shade of hair. He flickered an eyebrow at McGee. "Hey."

"Hi," McGee replied with a hint of nervousness.

"Head ok?"

"Hurts a bit. Not too bad though."

Oz squinted at him before smiling slightly. "No fracture or bruising on the inside. You'll be fine."

McGee felt his scalp crawl. "How do you know that?"

The other man leant against the wall and smiled again. "Guess."

This took McGee into dangerous waters of speculation and theories. He struggled with the concept for a moment and then conceded defeat. "You're a Jedi?"

"Yes."

"But… that's impossible."

"Some might say that that demon is impossible. Doesn't make it any less true."

This was valid point and McGee nodded slowly. Then he looked up at the man again. "How?"

"Ever heard of Sunnydale?"

McGee grimaced. "Yes. My cousin's stationed there."

Oz blinked in surprise and then leant forwards and frowned. "Stationed there?"

McGee nodded.

"Initiative?"

"Yes," McGee admitted, surprised. "You know about them?"

"Oh yes," Oz muttered. "Ask your cousin about Adam one day. Who is your cousin by the way?"

"Graham Miller."

Oz laughed softly. "Oh. Yes, ask Graham about me."

There was a moment of silence whilst McGee tried to process some of this, before he finally nodded. "I will do just that."

"Anyway," Oz said quietly, "A chaos mage once came to Sunnydale. A particularly sick and twisted one. He opened a costume shop. Just before Halloween. And all the costumes had been enchanted to turn their wearers into the people – or things – they were dressed as."

McGee thought about that for a moment and then he went white, remembering the long-ago Halloween that he'd dressed up as Elric of Melniboné. It hadn't been a success, especially when the rain had started to wash the talcum powder off. "That sounds…. bad."

"Very bad. Luckily a friend of mine dressed up as Obi-Wan Kenobi. And after the spell was broken he remembered a lot. Including how to access the Force. And-" Oz pulled out a silver cylinder from his right hand pocket. "How to build a lightsabre. He trained. Became a Jedi Knight. Found others who could use the Force. Like me. Trained them too. And now – we're spreading our knowledge." The lightsabre went back into the pocket and he leant back against the wall.

McGee nodded. "Ok," he said eventually. "Why are you telling me this?"

Oz tilted his head to one side. "During the fight, just before I arrived, I felt someone use the Force. Someone other than me."

McGee stared back at him. "Who?"

"You."

There was another pause whilst his brain basically rebooted itself. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard."

Another pause whilst he considered the inherent absurdity of the conversation. "Me?"

"You."

"I can use the Force?"

"Yes."

His next thought wasn't, oddly enough, that Gibbs was going to kill him. It was even worse than that. Abby was going to kill him.