They're all in the bullpen when it suddenly slams into him - the eerily familiar feeling of his every fiber being twisted and compacted unnaturally - leaving him gasping for breath and falling to his knees.
"Tim!" he hears, muffled amidst the pain, followed by started gasps as he finally manages to open his eyes again.
He should probably find it funny - they do look rather ridiculous towering over him - but there's no time for that. McGee steadies himself, his newly-returned feline form easily jumping to his desk. "Don't ask just… can one of you drive me to Salem?"
"Sure thing, McTabby," Dinozzo quips quickly, and it takes all Tim's strength not to scratch him… much.