[Fire & Ice Series] Passion.Sanctuary
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kissmeprobieTitle: Passion.Sanctuary
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Some sexuality.
Word Count: 869words
Summary: A chance encounter by the docks with DiNozzo. [Fire & Ice Series]
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
A/N: And here's the list. As well as Tony fucking with McGee's head, fufufufu.
It is another day being spent in an old, broken down warehouse. McGee is beginning to suspect that a cosmic joke is being played on him -- especially when DiNozzo swings in from the window, straight onto the floor of the room that McGee is investigating.
“You,” Tim breathes, drawing his gun.
“Put that away,” DiNozzo hisses, his lean figure only an outline in the shining full moon. “And stop talking!”
McGee shuts up, but he doesn’t put away the gun. It has been two months since he and Anthony DiNozzo first met, and the memory still stings.
DiNozzo swears softly at McGee’s insistent stance, and starts moving. McGee tries to get off a shot, but DiNozzo is too fast, and too experienced: he disarms McGee quickly and silently, covering the young agent’s mouth with a hand.
“Quiet,” he murmurs, and backs Tim up into the darkest corner of the room, pinning the younger man’s body with his own.
For a moment, McGee is on the verge of panicking. Being molested in a desolate building is something that he is quite certain would cripple him -- in various ways.
But as soon as the urge to fight hits him, he realizes that DiNozzo is paying hardly any attention to him at all. The thief’s head is cocked to side, as if he is listening for something. McGee isn’t an idiot, and recognizes the pose of someone who is being hunted; he firmly presses his lips together.
For a long moment, there is no sound but the waves hitting the dock. DiNozzo’s body becomes tenser as the silence stretches on; it is a sensual, disconcerting sensation for Tim and he hopes that DiNozzo moves before Tim has a chance to embarrass himself.
And then he hears the angry voices, the running steps. Shit. DiNozzo’s screwed up, and brought more criminals down on his head.
“Moron,” he mutters in DiNozzo’s ear.
“Shut it, Probie,” DiNozzo replies, nudging Tim hard with his knee.
It is a tense fifteen minutes that follows; McGee strains to hear the conversation through the walls of the warehouse. As far as he can tell, DiNozzo stole something on a job -- and then refused to hand it over.
Eventually though, the angry voices fade into the sounds of car engines being turned on and driven away.
DiNozzo doesn’t move from his spot.
At first, McGee thinks that he’s only being cautious, which makes sense to him; so he stays quiet, and doesn’t move, and finds himself surprised by the quiet trust that allows him to be relaxed (as he can be, anyway) when trapped by a criminal.
But then it becomes obvious that DiNozzo is simply lingering for the sake of lingering, and that he has no intention of moving.
Tim pokes his side. “Hey. Move.”
There it is; the caressing velvet smile that still appears in McGee’s dreams, the one that made him shiver, the one that reminded him that DiNozzo was not his friend. “Why should I?”
Tim is also reminded that DiNozzo has his gun.
DiNozzo sees the comprehension on his face, and laughs. Then, and only then, does he step away.
“Here,” he says, handing McGee his gun. “Take it, I don’t need it.”
McGee levels the weapon at him. “Who were they?” he asks.
“Former employers with terrorist connections.”
“What about their cargo?”
“Top secret information, to be technical.”
The forward answers surprise McGee, make him waver. The gun lowers a little. “Where is it?”
DiNozzo shakes his right hand, and something small falls into it. He holds it up, and says “Right here. You want it?”
“What?”
“Look Probie, I’m a lot of things; but I’m not a traitor, whatever Gibbs and David tells you. I don’t want to see America destroyed just because Osama bin Laden didn’t get enough hugs as a child and blames it all on Old Glory. Whatever the hell is on this jump drive needs to go back to the government where it belongs.”
“You’re a patriot?” McGee can’t wrap his mind around the idea. Criminals are supposed to be evil through and through; they aren’t supposed to respect the sanctity of their country.
DiNozzo shrugs. “If you want to get dramatic about it, yeah. I guess I am.” He tosses the jump drive up and down in his hand a few times before tossing it in McGee’s direction. McGee has to lower his gun to catch it in one hand. “You hang on to that Probie. You’ll hear about the robbery soon enough. Later.”
“Wait a minute!”
DiNozzo pauses in his turn to look at McGee curiously, who is staring at him hopelessly. Tim knows that he can’t shoot DiNozzo in the back -- and that he can’t arrest him either.
DiNozzo seems to understand, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Tell Gibbs you came on the end of a shootout between me and them. The name you want it Thomas Reynolds. And that I dropped the drive when I ran for it.”
“I can’t lie to Gibbs!”
“Sure you can. It just takes...confidence.”
And just like that, he’s gone. Tim is left standing, clutching the jump drive, feeling foolish and a little aroused.
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Some sexuality.
Word Count: 869words
Summary: A chance encounter by the docks with DiNozzo. [Fire & Ice Series]
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
A/N: And here's the list. As well as Tony fucking with McGee's head, fufufufu.
It is another day being spent in an old, broken down warehouse. McGee is beginning to suspect that a cosmic joke is being played on him -- especially when DiNozzo swings in from the window, straight onto the floor of the room that McGee is investigating.
“You,” Tim breathes, drawing his gun.
“Put that away,” DiNozzo hisses, his lean figure only an outline in the shining full moon. “And stop talking!”
McGee shuts up, but he doesn’t put away the gun. It has been two months since he and Anthony DiNozzo first met, and the memory still stings.
DiNozzo swears softly at McGee’s insistent stance, and starts moving. McGee tries to get off a shot, but DiNozzo is too fast, and too experienced: he disarms McGee quickly and silently, covering the young agent’s mouth with a hand.
“Quiet,” he murmurs, and backs Tim up into the darkest corner of the room, pinning the younger man’s body with his own.
For a moment, McGee is on the verge of panicking. Being molested in a desolate building is something that he is quite certain would cripple him -- in various ways.
But as soon as the urge to fight hits him, he realizes that DiNozzo is paying hardly any attention to him at all. The thief’s head is cocked to side, as if he is listening for something. McGee isn’t an idiot, and recognizes the pose of someone who is being hunted; he firmly presses his lips together.
For a long moment, there is no sound but the waves hitting the dock. DiNozzo’s body becomes tenser as the silence stretches on; it is a sensual, disconcerting sensation for Tim and he hopes that DiNozzo moves before Tim has a chance to embarrass himself.
And then he hears the angry voices, the running steps. Shit. DiNozzo’s screwed up, and brought more criminals down on his head.
“Moron,” he mutters in DiNozzo’s ear.
“Shut it, Probie,” DiNozzo replies, nudging Tim hard with his knee.
It is a tense fifteen minutes that follows; McGee strains to hear the conversation through the walls of the warehouse. As far as he can tell, DiNozzo stole something on a job -- and then refused to hand it over.
Eventually though, the angry voices fade into the sounds of car engines being turned on and driven away.
DiNozzo doesn’t move from his spot.
At first, McGee thinks that he’s only being cautious, which makes sense to him; so he stays quiet, and doesn’t move, and finds himself surprised by the quiet trust that allows him to be relaxed (as he can be, anyway) when trapped by a criminal.
But then it becomes obvious that DiNozzo is simply lingering for the sake of lingering, and that he has no intention of moving.
Tim pokes his side. “Hey. Move.”
There it is; the caressing velvet smile that still appears in McGee’s dreams, the one that made him shiver, the one that reminded him that DiNozzo was not his friend. “Why should I?”
Tim is also reminded that DiNozzo has his gun.
DiNozzo sees the comprehension on his face, and laughs. Then, and only then, does he step away.
“Here,” he says, handing McGee his gun. “Take it, I don’t need it.”
McGee levels the weapon at him. “Who were they?” he asks.
“Former employers with terrorist connections.”
“What about their cargo?”
“Top secret information, to be technical.”
The forward answers surprise McGee, make him waver. The gun lowers a little. “Where is it?”
DiNozzo shakes his right hand, and something small falls into it. He holds it up, and says “Right here. You want it?”
“What?”
“Look Probie, I’m a lot of things; but I’m not a traitor, whatever Gibbs and David tells you. I don’t want to see America destroyed just because Osama bin Laden didn’t get enough hugs as a child and blames it all on Old Glory. Whatever the hell is on this jump drive needs to go back to the government where it belongs.”
“You’re a patriot?” McGee can’t wrap his mind around the idea. Criminals are supposed to be evil through and through; they aren’t supposed to respect the sanctity of their country.
DiNozzo shrugs. “If you want to get dramatic about it, yeah. I guess I am.” He tosses the jump drive up and down in his hand a few times before tossing it in McGee’s direction. McGee has to lower his gun to catch it in one hand. “You hang on to that Probie. You’ll hear about the robbery soon enough. Later.”
“Wait a minute!”
DiNozzo pauses in his turn to look at McGee curiously, who is staring at him hopelessly. Tim knows that he can’t shoot DiNozzo in the back -- and that he can’t arrest him either.
DiNozzo seems to understand, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Tell Gibbs you came on the end of a shootout between me and them. The name you want it Thomas Reynolds. And that I dropped the drive when I ran for it.”
“I can’t lie to Gibbs!”
“Sure you can. It just takes...confidence.”
And just like that, he’s gone. Tim is left standing, clutching the jump drive, feeling foolish and a little aroused.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-30 06:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-30 04:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-30 01:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-30 04:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 03:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-13 09:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-25 12:38 pm (UTC)Patriot? Oh well... okay.
I don’t want to see America destroyed just because Osama bin Laden didn’t get enough hugs as a child and blames it all on Old Glory. - wtf?!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-25 01:52 pm (UTC)Is there something wrong with patriots?
Dinozzo was being flippant. It's what he does. Is that a problem?
Edited for formatting.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-25 06:07 pm (UTC)No, there really isn't. (My father kinda is one, too. I mean, he's not extreme or something, and tents to complain about politics, which can be really annoying when you just woke up in the morning. <-- I'm starting to ramble again, sorry. And I don't finish sentences. Yeah.)
No, it isn't a problem... I just don't know whether I should laugh, feel a little uncomfortable or shrug it off.
Don't mind what I'm saying. I'm just shocked by the events yesterday in Duisburg.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-26 02:19 am (UTC)Good to know all that -- your first comment read as a little confrontational and it threw me for a loop. That line is a bit of non sequitur I admit, but it seems like something Tony would say. Wanting to protect something he loves while belittling a force that's moving against it.
Duisburg, oh god. :( Did anyone you know get hurt?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-26 08:14 am (UTC)Yeah, I guess he would say something like that... Sorry.
A friends friend got hurt, but he's not in a perilous condition anymore.
I wasn't there, my parents told me not to go because I were too young. (It would've been so easy to go, 51,4 km aren't that much).
I think the press conference was a shame...