AN: By popular demand, another chapter. This was seriously only meant to be a ridiculous drunken short story with no real substance. Lol Thanks for liking it anyway! :)

The morning after...

"Oh god..." Tony groaned as he tried to move his arms and turn over. He wasn't exactly sure where he was, or what he'd passed out on, and his eyes didn't seem in the mood to cooperate with investigating into the matter. His whole body ached. But the strange thing was that his head didn't hurt, and the nausea was only minimal. Strange hangover indeed, though he wasn't complaining. It could be worse.

He knew he'd been out drinking with the team. He knew he'd ended up at Gibbs' house, and that McGee had brought a girl. Wait...what?

Finally his eyes cracked open to see that he had his face planted on the floor in front of Gibbs' couch. His arms were trapped under him and he couldn't much feel them, so he knew it was really gonna suck once he did manage to get himself up. But the dilemma was that he was sort of trapped there, wedged between the couch and the coffee table.

Somehow he managed to wiggle his way to roll onto his side. Therein started the extremely uncomfortable process of blood flowing back into his slumbering arms. He closed his eyes tight, willing himself not to make a sound through the worst of it. When he opened them again, he looked up at the coffee table where there were four water bottles; three of which were empty and one with just a quarter of water left in it. He must not have been too bad off the night before if he'd been with it enough to rehydrate.

Oh...wait. That had been Gibbs. Now Tony remembered sprawling out onto the couch and Gibbs coming in with water...

"Not a chance I'm letting you feel too sick to talk to me in the morning about what was said tonight. You're drinkin' this."

"What do you mean? What did I say?"

"Oh it doesn't matter that you know right now. Just that you remember it tomorrow. So...drink."

"Damn...what is it I'm supposed to remember?" Tony thought as he pushed himself to sit up. He scratched the back of his head, then felt the sudden urgent need to use the bathroom. Four bottles of water sitting in his bladder were not about to wait.

As he stood in front of the toilet relieving himself, head lolled back and eyes closed from the release of pressure, the night began to unfold in his mind. He remembered McGee and the redhead making out in the corner, and thinking that he wished it was him and Gibbs. Why did he wish that? Man...alcohol sometimes did some weird things to his libido.

He remembered picturing them together in his mind, and what he'd wanted to do to him. Tony shuddered and opened his eyes to make sure he hadn't urinated outside of the toilet bowl perimeter. "Geez, I don't remember ever having to pee for this long," he thought. The stream didn't seem to have an end.

He went back to thinking. "What did Gibbs mean, that I had said something? I don't remember saying anything at all..." he thought. And then, as if he were watching a movie, his memories of the night before rewound in his head and started over. Only this time they were a lot more clear, and he was aware of speaking. Speaking his thoughts...out loud.

"Oh god..." Tony's eyes widened. "Oh no. Ohhhh no no no..." he finished relieving himself, shook and then zipped up his pants, hurriedly flushing and washing his hands before he snuck out of the bathroom hoping maybe he could sneak out of the house and pretend he didn't remember anything at all.

"Mornin', princess," a woman's voice sounded from the kitchen as she held a coffee cup to her lips.

"Uh..." Tony stammered over his thoughts for a moment. "Good morning. Uh...Melanie was it?"

"Millisa," she corrected. "Surprised you slept on the couch," she commented.

Tony looked back at the couch, then back to her. "Why is that?"

"Well," she's grinned mischievously, "The way you carried on with the overt flirting with your boss last night, I'd have figured you'd be too sore to get out of his bed."

"Oh Jesus..." he swiped a hand down his face as Millisa laughed. "Please...please be quiet. Don't wake him up."

"Been up for a while now," Gibbs said from behind him. Tony's body stiffened completely in panic. "Feelin' okay, DiNozzo?"

Tony squeaked in horror wondering how, exactly, Gibbs was gonna go about firing him for harassment. Hopefully, he'd spare the details when filing the report... "I'm sorry, boss," Tony began. "Apparently the Irish part of my blood is an extremely sleazy homosexual," he slapped on the famous DiNozzo cover-up-my-current-mental-breakdown smile. "And only rears its head when I'm exceptionally drunk. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. But I'm just saying I'd never have said those things...uh I'd never have even thought those things... Boss, I..." He was cut off short by a swift slap to the back of his head.

"Any other part of your blood wanna ride me so hard I forget about redheads?"

"No, boss. Absolutely no other part..." he seemed to shrink as Gibbs circled him and stopped behind him.

Gibbs smirked out of the agent's sight. "Good. I'd hate to have to transfer you." Tony wasn't exactly sure what that meant, or if it meant anything deeper than face value. He watched as Gibbs made his way back to the stairs. "Was flattering, though," the corner of his mouth turned up without looking back to Tony as he ascended the stairs to get to the shower.

Tony's face was a mixture of fleeting confusion and adrenaline from thinking he might actually be killed.

"Mornin', princess!" Millisa said more cheerfully, and Tony looked at her to see she was speaking to McGee who'd just come up from downstairs, holding his clearly pounding head. He groaned in response, blindly heading for the coffee.

"Princess?" Tony questioned. "That's what you called me. How do you tell the difference between princesses if you call them all the same thing?"

"Oh, honey," she tilted her head apologetically. "I only called you that because I couldn't remember your actual name. This here is the real princess. Ain't that right, princess?" she scruffed Tim's hair and he groaned into his coffee. "I've gotta go," Millisa told them, looking at her watch. "It was fun! Maybe I'll see you again some time." Tim nodded to her dismissively, as he was in too much pain to care.

"Love 'em an' leave 'em, eh?" Tony asked as she headed out.

She turned to him and quietly replied, "Oh no, sweetie. I love my geeks. But I do not have the patience to wait for them to have any free time for me." She winked then headed out the front door, closing it behind her.

Tony absorbed what she'd said, and turned back to Tim, grinning. "Princess, huh?" he waggled his brows. "I'm so calling you that from now on."

"No, you're not," McGee replied in all seriousness. "Or I won't hesitate to call you Irish Cowboy. Ya know, since you'd ride so hard..."

"Oh god..." a look of devastation once again washed over Tony's face at the realization that McGee, even in his clearly hungover state, remembered what he'd said last night.

Tim simply smiled as he brought the mug of coffee back up to his lips...

~End~