![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
jack-infinitude.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kissmeprobieTitle: The Problem With Passion
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jack_infinitude
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee
Prompt: passion
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, zombies (offscreen).
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
Summary: Lieutenant Colonel McGee comes into conflict with his 2IC.
A/N: An articulation of the NCIS zombie AU that has been nibbling on my brain for the past six months or so. Xposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_fics, kissmeprobie and my journal.
McGee looks hot, and not in the ‘let me suck you off’ way. There’s sweat running down his face and soaking into his clothes; it’s a shame, since they’ll have to be burned sooner than later. Tony watches him from the corner of his eye.
“You should unzip your jacket,” he says. “You’re making me hot just looking at you.”
“We’re all hot, Major,” McGee replies distantly.
So it’s back to that.
Tony turns his full attention to McGee; there’s little point in disguising it now. His CO is beside him, leaning against the oak tree, eyes closed and head tilted back. With his legs thrust out in front of him, he actually looks relaxed. It would be easy to imagine them on their own, without the Dead infesting the forest.
“We’re lucky they don’t come out in sunlight,” Tony says quietly. “But how are we going to get the battalion out of here alive? As soon as the sun starts to go down --”
“We’re going to lose a few men,” McGee replies. “It’s unavoidable, going through this forest. We’ll have to start moving in another hour, if we want to make it to the edge by moonrise.”
“And the Dead?”
“I’ll worry about the Dead. Tony.” He sounded as if saying his subordinate’s name caused him physical pain.
“Which means you’ll stay behind until the very last minute and then throw yourself into the ravening horde. Yeah, that’s a great plan, Colonel --”
“Well, what do you want?” And now McGee has some passion back in his eyes, more starch in his spine; good. DiNozzo is sick of having to deal with a ghost. “I’m the only one who stands a chance, and you’re in command when I’m gone. You remember that part of regulations, don’t you?”
“Regulations,” Tony snarls. “Christ, I am sick of these stupid ‘regulations.’ You don’t give a damn about the rules except when they help you hide! For God’s sake McGee, you are a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army -- start acting like it!”
He’s crossed a line, and he knows it. McGee is in fact acting just like a battalion commander should; Tony’s true complaint is against the fervor that he takes to the battlefield.
McGee doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, his ice gray eyes narrowed into slits. In the silence, Tony can feel the fight draining out of him.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s this damn heat,” McGee replies. “It’s too hot to fight about this, Tony.”
“It’s true though. You’ll stay behind and try to get yourself killed.” Tony sits up and crosses his legs, gripping one ankle with both hands. The dry, cracked dirt is suddenly fascinating. “You always do. What am I supposed to do when you finally succeed, huh? You know how much paperwork I’d have to file over a dead Half Colonel?”
It’s not much of a joke; the waver in his voice betrays him, makes it fall flat.
“Tony,” McGee begins. But he doesn’t seem to know what else to say; he picks at the brittle grass, leather gloves making his fingers clumsy. “Tony, I. I don’t want -- oh, damn....”
“Does it matter?” Tony asks. “Look, let’s get everyone up. I’ll pass it along to the captains. Then we can hang back and scream at each other when no one else can hear, I just -- I don’t want to do that right now. And unzip your jacket, before the heat makes you keel over.”
“Alright.” McGee sounds like DiNozzo feels; tired, worn to the bone, and frustrated. Tony gets up and straps his sword back into place, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes. The heat makes them water at the most inopportune times.
Author:
jack_infinitudeFandom: NCIS
Characters: Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee
Prompt: passion
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, zombies (offscreen).
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
Summary: Lieutenant Colonel McGee comes into conflict with his 2IC.
A/N: An articulation of the NCIS zombie AU that has been nibbling on my brain for the past six months or so. Xposted to
10_fics, kissmeprobie and my journal.McGee looks hot, and not in the ‘let me suck you off’ way. There’s sweat running down his face and soaking into his clothes; it’s a shame, since they’ll have to be burned sooner than later. Tony watches him from the corner of his eye.
“You should unzip your jacket,” he says. “You’re making me hot just looking at you.”
“We’re all hot, Major,” McGee replies distantly.
So it’s back to that.
Tony turns his full attention to McGee; there’s little point in disguising it now. His CO is beside him, leaning against the oak tree, eyes closed and head tilted back. With his legs thrust out in front of him, he actually looks relaxed. It would be easy to imagine them on their own, without the Dead infesting the forest.
“We’re lucky they don’t come out in sunlight,” Tony says quietly. “But how are we going to get the battalion out of here alive? As soon as the sun starts to go down --”
“We’re going to lose a few men,” McGee replies. “It’s unavoidable, going through this forest. We’ll have to start moving in another hour, if we want to make it to the edge by moonrise.”
“And the Dead?”
“I’ll worry about the Dead. Tony.” He sounded as if saying his subordinate’s name caused him physical pain.
“Which means you’ll stay behind until the very last minute and then throw yourself into the ravening horde. Yeah, that’s a great plan, Colonel --”
“Well, what do you want?” And now McGee has some passion back in his eyes, more starch in his spine; good. DiNozzo is sick of having to deal with a ghost. “I’m the only one who stands a chance, and you’re in command when I’m gone. You remember that part of regulations, don’t you?”
“Regulations,” Tony snarls. “Christ, I am sick of these stupid ‘regulations.’ You don’t give a damn about the rules except when they help you hide! For God’s sake McGee, you are a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army -- start acting like it!”
He’s crossed a line, and he knows it. McGee is in fact acting just like a battalion commander should; Tony’s true complaint is against the fervor that he takes to the battlefield.
McGee doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, his ice gray eyes narrowed into slits. In the silence, Tony can feel the fight draining out of him.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s this damn heat,” McGee replies. “It’s too hot to fight about this, Tony.”
“It’s true though. You’ll stay behind and try to get yourself killed.” Tony sits up and crosses his legs, gripping one ankle with both hands. The dry, cracked dirt is suddenly fascinating. “You always do. What am I supposed to do when you finally succeed, huh? You know how much paperwork I’d have to file over a dead Half Colonel?”
It’s not much of a joke; the waver in his voice betrays him, makes it fall flat.
“Tony,” McGee begins. But he doesn’t seem to know what else to say; he picks at the brittle grass, leather gloves making his fingers clumsy. “Tony, I. I don’t want -- oh, damn....”
“Does it matter?” Tony asks. “Look, let’s get everyone up. I’ll pass it along to the captains. Then we can hang back and scream at each other when no one else can hear, I just -- I don’t want to do that right now. And unzip your jacket, before the heat makes you keel over.”
“Alright.” McGee sounds like DiNozzo feels; tired, worn to the bone, and frustrated. Tony gets up and straps his sword back into place, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes. The heat makes them water at the most inopportune times.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}