Richard Davis-Prior (gyoro) wrote,
Richard Davis-Prior

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Fiction: NCIS, Pre-Slash

Title: Spilled Coffee
Co-Author: lawpup
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Jethro Gibbs/Timothy McGee, Implied Abby/McGee
Word Count: 4606
Rating: PG
Summary: McGee has been having dreams. Now that he's the teams newest member, the dreams are becoming a bit more strange - and starring one agent in particular.

Update 7/21: I'll have my computer back in a week and then -finally- lawpup and I can finish up parts two and three. Whee! LOL.

Author's Notes: We're new to the fandom, and this is our first fic for our first series in the fandom. We also don't know anything about weapons short of going to Wiki. So, feedback will help us greatly. Also, special thanks to nakeisha, who answered all my NCIS questions. ;)

It was warm where he was, but the warmth held a familiarity to it, yet Timothy McGee couldn't quite place until he heard the familiar hum of computers around him. He realized then he must have fallen asleep even as the grogginess of a mid-afternoon nap started to clear from his vision. His eyes slowly returned to normal and he recognized that he was at home in his cramped apartment with his computer game running in front of him. Nothing else was out of place, yet something seemed to be off. It was a nagging feeling at the pit of McGee's stomach that told him that something was different. He lent forward and closed his game, checking on his computer first.

Nothing was wrong with it expect for the fact he was running low on hard drive space which was almost always the norm for him.

He frowned and stood slowly, looking over the room. He ran down his mental checklist. The typewriter was there, the dust cover over it, and so were the last few pages of "Deep Six" he had typed up the night before. The door was locked, dead-bolted and chained, so that was in order. His frown deepened as he pushed his chair in and padded into the living area, or what should have been a living room area regardless of its rather small size.

Television was off, so was his gaming system and even the radio.

It was when he turned to go check the kitchen that he realized that the light in his bedroom was on, and the door stood ajar. Acting on instinct, McGee took his firearm from computer desk and removed it from the holster. He held it tightly as he padded across the room and stopped at his bedroom door and listened. Once he was sure the room was clear, he pushed it slowly open with his foot and walked in. He raised the firearm, looking at all possible ambush points then lowered his weapon, frowning again.

His body jerked as the sound of the shower hit his ears and he automatically trained his weapon to the slightly opened bathroom door. His breathing became fast and ragged. Someone was in his home. His head jerked to the window; it was closed. So they didn't get in through the window or the front door. A slight spark of primal fear lit in McGee's gut as he moved slowly towards the bathroom, the sound of the shower getting ever louder as he moved closer. Eight feet away, three feet away, until finally he was pressed against the door with his weapon raised.

"I'm armed!" McGee said out loud. No answer, expect for the sound of sloshing water.

"I'm a Federal agent. Identify yourself!" McGee called again, but again there was no answer expect for the sound of the shower running.

McGee counted to seven in his head before pushing up against the door as hard as he could with his shoulder and trained his weapon at the shower stall and froze at the sight that fell before him through the opened shower curtain. He swore if he wasn't holding his firearm as tightly as he was that it would fall from his hands, much like how his mouth had fallen agape.

In the shower, his back to McGee, stood his boss. Leroy Jethro Gibbs in all his glory. The older man's head was resting against the tile of the shower, the water slowly cascading down his back in a slick waterfall of soap suds and water. McGee swallowed hard, his mouth trying to find something to say yet his eyes traveling down his boss' slender and muscular frame down until he was staring at - McGee jerked his eyes upward, focusing on the back of Gibbs' head.

"Boss?" McGee said once his brain was able to form the word, though even to McGee's ears the word sounded cracked.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't turn his eyes away as Gibbs' upper body began to turn and he found that he couldn't look away when his boss met his eyes and wore that same secret smile he always tried to hide from the rest of the team by ducking his head. McGee swallowed hard again as his eyes seemed to follow one of Gibbs' hands running a soapy washcloth over his chest. "McGee?"

His eyes snapped back up and he flinched, seeing that the secret little smile was replaced with a look he was all too familiar with. Gibbs' famous death stare. "Since when in the hell did they start paying you to sleep on the job?"

"What?" McGee asked slightly taken back by the sudden change in his boss' demeanor.

"Wake up, McGee!" McGee jerked awake, a little too enthusiastically and heard the grunt of surprise, the slosh of liquid and the plop of what was unmistakably a paper cup hitting the floor of Abby's lab. Suddenly the grogginess drained from him and was replaced by mortal fear, as he turned in the chair and was greeted by a very angry looking Gibbs with spilled coffee on his clothes and the death stare from hell. McGee was suddenly very thankful that looks didn't kill. "You spilled my coffee."

McGee didn't think he could move for the longest time, so he just sat there with his mouth left open and stared at Gibbs like he had grown two heads. Though, after a while, thankfully, his legs decided to work and he stood up, backing away from Gibbs purely from the instinct to survive. He swallowed thickly, the rush of his blood catching up to the rest of his body was enough to make him dizzy. "Oh god, sorry Boss. I'll get you a new one, do you just take it black or do you put something special in-"

"McGee!" He flinched, and swore that Gibbs was about to kill him. He even drew back slightly as Gibbs turned around and grabbed the paper towels from Abby's work station and tossed it at him, which he almost didn't catch, and pointed to the floor. "Clean that up."

"On it boss," McGee called to Gibbs' retreating back. He winced knowing his day was going to be plagued with desk work and worst then normal grunt work all because of the rule that you should never come between a Marine and his coffee. "You can count on me," he mumbled as an after thought and shifted his weight to get down on his knees. He tore two sheets of paper towel from the roll and put it back up on Abby's computer station and sighed as he folded the sheets together and started to mop up the warm coffee.

"If you stain my floor McGee, I just might have to hurt you." McGee glanced up and sighed seeing Abby standing just a few feet away with her arms crossed over her chest and a playful glare in her eyes. McGee often wondered if she actually had poked herself enough to hurt before with the type of bracelets she wore but that thought quickly died away.

"I spilled Gibbs' coffee," he said weakly.

"Oh, McGee! I'm so sorry," Abby came up to him and knelt. He looked at her strangely before she hugged him tight to her body and patted his back softly, "Can I do the eulogy at your funeral after Gibbs' kills you?"

McGee gently pushed her away when she started giggling and glared at her, "That's not funny Abbs."

"Given that it's the third time this week, McGee, I don't even think an almighty Elf Lord like," she trailed off at McGee's very pointed and addressed to her exasperated glare, "What I'm trying to say, McGee, is you didn't poke the sleeping bear, you bashed it over the head with your shoe. Repeatedly."

"Thanks Abbs," McGee said dryly. He finished up the mess he had made and stuffed the soggy paper towels into the coffee cup that Gibbs had left behind and stood, tossing it into the wastebasket, "It's just he caught me off guard." He looked at her sheepishly, "I was sleeping again."

"Well, jeez McGee you're lucky he... wait, sleeping again?" McGee really didn't like the smile that spread over Abby's dark lips as she stood up. "As in, dreaming too?"

Now he really didn't like the way Abby was looking at him. "Yeah... that's what happens sometimes when people sleep."

"Come on McGee, I know you biblically and better than anyone else here so you can't lie to me." Abby turned around and walked to the other side of her lab before snapping back around and grinning, "It was another Gibbs dream wasn't it?"

"No," McGee said, although he said it a little took quickly from the way that Abby was grinning from ear to ear. "What?"

"Bull, Timmy." Abby came close, watching him like a hawk. "Give me details, no, wait," she turned her back to him and covered her ears, "don't tell me." McGee opened his mouth to say something but Abby turned back around and came close to him which effectivly cut him off, "Okay, tell me."

"Abby, I didn't have a - Hey ow!" McGee rubbed the spot on his arm that Abby had punched, glowering at her. "Why'd you hit me?"

"Because Timmy, Semper Veritas," Abby said with a curt nod of her head, "now spill."

"Is that another way of saying Semper Fi?" McGee asked with a small frown as his hand still rubbed the area where Abby had punched him, hoping it would help the sting go away faster.

"No, it's Latin for 'Truth Always'. It's some motto for a college in Florida," McGee hissed when Abby slapped his arm again, "and don't change the subject, McGee. Spill the goods."

"Abby, I didn't," McGee quickly held up his hand when Abby raised hers, "okay, okay! It wasn't really anything sexual this time or close to a romantic thing." He swallowed thickly and just encase Abby decided to slap him again he moved well enough away from her, "I was in my apartment and I heard the shower running."

"Sounds like the movie Psycho, McGee," Abby interrupted but at McGee's glowering look she raised her hands in defense and smiled, "Sorry, continue."

"Like I was saying, I was in my apartment and heard the shower running." McGee paused and looked up at Abby. When he was sure that she wouldn't interrupt him again he cleared his throat, licked his lips and shifted his weight to cross his arms over his chest, "I, uh, walked in on Gibbs taking a shower in my bathroom."

Abby stared at him expectantly for a few seconds, her eyes glued to his face and all he could do was stare back. After almost a minute went by, Abby let out an exasperated sigh and threw up her hands in frustration, "That's it, McGee? With the way you were holding out I'd expected you two were getting wet and wild in the shower."

"You two playing grab ass again?" Gibbs said from the doorway and McGee felt like he had been shot, kicked and thrown off a cliff all at once as he turned and stared at his boss. Gibbs stared right back before turning his head to look at Abby.

"Hey, Gibbs." McGee turned his head in utter amazement that Abby had sounded so casual and so, well, calm where as he felt like he was having a heart attack. "I was able to figure out what type of gun your bullet came from - did you change shirts?"

"Someone spilled coffee on my other one," Gibbs was in McGee's field of vision now, between him and Abby and was looking right at him. He stared opened mouth at Gibbs, like he was seeing his own train wreck and couldn't look away. "Got a problem, McGee?"

"No... no, boss." McGee answered, though he was puzzled as to how he could answer, let alone get his mouth to start working since he was still piecing through the shock of what if Gibbs heard.

"Then why are you still here? Don't you have paper work to do?" Gibbs turned, facing him completely. McGee spared a glance over Gibbs' shoulder to Abby who was giving him a sympathetic smile.

He swallowed and looked back at Gibbs, "Yes, sir... I'll go, uh, do it now."

"You do that, McGee."

McGee backed away and fumbled to grab his pack that laid beside Abby's desk and get one arm threw one of the straps. He didn't dare glance back until he was at the labs door and when he did, McGee found Gibbs staring back at him along with Abby.

He quickly snapped his head back and hurried to the elevator and repeatedly jabbed the button while all kinds of thoughts started to flood his mind. From 'Gibbs must've heard what they had talked about', to 'he'd possibly find a pink slip on his desk tomorrow'.

When the doors to the elevator opened and McGee got inside, he rested his back against the far wall and finally allowed himself to breath slowly. It wasn't until the doors closed had he realized he was over reacting to the whole situation.

Then he remembered that he had left Gibbs alone with Abby.

* * *

Abby felt sorry for McGee, but only in the sense that her little Timmy didn't have enough confidence in himself to not be scared off by a fluttering leaf - yet. After McGee left she turned and noticed that Gibbs was still looking toward the door of her lab, which made her grin because the cogs in her, what some would call dark and twisted, mind started to slowly turn. "So, like I said I have the name of the gun that fired your fragmented bullet. Can I trade it for that Caf Pow that you're holding in your hand, oh-great-and-masterful-Gibbs?"

"It's why I brought it, Abbs," Gibbs said, placing the Caf Pow on the computer station and walking around it and toward the plasma. "So what was the gun, Abby?"

Abby bit her bottom lip as she lent against the computer station and clicked on the file that opened up the information on the weapon. She grabbed the remote and walked over to stand beside Gibbs, both of them casting a glance at each other before she turned on the plasma. "Your weapon was a Glock, possibly a Glock 21."

At Gibbs look, Abby smiled and looked at the plasma, pulling up a picture of the firearm. "See, the .45 ACP version of the Glock 20 was designed primarily for the American market. The barrel," she zoomed in on the image, "like all other .45 models, features an octagonal bore and the slide is lighter to compensate for the lower-energy cartridge."

She walked back to the computer and put the controller down, feeling that Gibbs had followed her and pulled up a little more information on the weapon. "The magazine is of a single-position-feed, staggered-column type with a capacity of 13 rounds."

"Good work Abbs," Gibbs whispered in her ear and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Thanks," Abby felt him turn away from her and walk away and knew she shouldn't pry but damn it, McGee was sometimes scared of his own shadow when it came to these sort of things and she couldn't stop herself because the words suddenly bubbled form the pit of her stomach, "Gibbs, wait. Is this a follow up or an active case, because I don't have the details for it. And if it's just a follow up, I wanted to ask you something. Well, somethings, but if you don't have the time." Slowly, she trailed off and winced. Abby felt Gibbs staring her down or sizing her up. She wasn't sure which, but he walked back towards her and placed his coffee cup down next to her Caf Pow.

"It's a follow up. Ask away, Abby but try not to ramble like you just did."

"Sorry," Abby smiled sheepishly. She took her Caf Pow from the computer station and walked to the other end of her office to take a much needed sip. She sighed contently, organizing her thoughts before turning back to face Gibbs who was watching her. "I know how you feel about office romances," she balanced her drink in one hand as she stepped a little closer to Gibbs, "but what if you love these two people and think they are perfect for each other? Like, they'd complete one another in a ying and yang kind of way."

"Trying to play matchmaker with someone, Abby?" Gibbs asked, and she noticed he was watching her a little more closely. She figured it was his Marine training kicking in over his NCIS training. If that was even possible.

"No. Well, maybe. It depends on the answer you give me." Abby said.

"Office romances complicate things, Abby." Gibbs sighed, and Abby took a sip of her Caf Pow as she listened. She made it clear with her silence that she wanted Gibbs to elaborate. "Look, when you have office romances work always comes into play. And when you have a job like this," he trailed off for a second before rubbing the back of his neck, "that could get someone killed and clouds judgments."

"I respect that and get that," Abby said with a slow nod as she turned back around and walked to her desk and took another sip of her Caf Pow, trying to come up with a counterattack to Gibbs' obviously superior NCIS training. She slightly rolled her eyes at that thought and turned back around to lean against her desk, "But what if they were made for each other and one of them wouldn't let it get in the way of the job?"

Gibbs sighed, "Then I guess, yeah, I wouldn't mind it. As long as they kept it job first and the romance second."

Abby gave a mental dance of triumph before sitting her Caf Pow down on her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. She fixed Gibbs with a hard, cold stare before tilting her head to the side. "What's your views on homosexuality?"

"What is this, Abby? An interrogation?" Gibbs said, and Abby heard a tone of annoyance. She backtracked and figured it was because in the last four minutes she had laid down the information on the bullet and went straight into spit firing personal questions.

"No, no, no, it's not an interrogation, Gibbs." She said and stepped up closer to him, holding out her hands in a gesture of peace. She took a deep breath and decided to take another approach. "I just want to know if it bothers you," she signed.

"It doesn't bother me," Gibbs signed and Abby breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Gibbs got that when she was cornered she fell back into old familiarities. "Man and man, woman and woman, man and woman, doesn't matter. Long as the person is happy," Gibbs continued to sign. "Why do you ask, Abby?" Gibbs said out loud.

Abby stared directly into Gibbs eyes and signed: "Because I don't want him to get hurt."

There was a long silence which was killing Abby. She waited, expecting to Gibbs to say something or move something, hell she even was expecting a head tilt. She wasn't greedy, any source of movement would have been a-okay with her. But, no, Gibbs just stood there staring at her while she stared at him. The silence had gone so long that Abby actually jumped when Gibbs finally said something.

"Abby, who's him?" Gibbs said it slowly and deliberate. She wasn't sure if Gibbs already knew and wanted it to be confirmed or if Gibbs was literally that much in the dark. Just in case they did share a extra-sensory perceptional, Abby started to think about what would be a good place to put a new tattoo.

"I won't say," Abby moved away from her desk when Gibbs stepped forward slightly and held out her hand for Gibbs to stop, "okay, okay. I won't say his name, but what I will say is that he's a hard worker. I'm just protective of him." She didn't like lying to Gibbs.

Gibbs eyes narrowed at her, but not in anger. No, Abby figured that this type of Gibbs-narrow-eyed-stare was more of the type that tried to read people and understand them. "Abbs, it's not hard to figure out who."

"It's not?" Abby asked, with a small frown.

"Well, no. I do work crime scenes for a living." Abby relaxed some at Gibbs' smile. She rarely saw it, at least that kind of smile, unless Ducky was around and if he was and Gibbs smiled like that to him she felt warm and safe. "You asked if I could accept office romance which I said as long as they kept their minds on the job first and the romance second, I wouldn't mind."

"Well, yeah." Abby said, nodding slowly. She sat behind her office desk, leaning back in her chair and grabbed her Caf Pow, holding onto it and playing with the straw as Gibbs came closer, only just stopping in front of her and her desk.

"And you asked how do I feel about homosexuality, which you know I don't care about." Gibbs continued his smile turning into a quirky amused half-smirk, which Abby mused made him look younger and more boyish, "so that means he's under my lead. So it's either McGee or DiNozzo who you're protecting."

"Not protecting, Gibbs." Abby said pointedly as she sat down her drink again. She lent forward, glazing up at the older man. "Just guarding."

"Which means it's McGee," Gibbs said flatly and before Abby was about to protest, Gibbs placed his hand gently over her mouth and smiled. "Abby, you're protective of every single one of us. Me, DiNozzo, Ducky... but we all know you'd take a baseball bat to anyone's knee cap that would hurt McGee."

Abby deflated when Gibbs removed his hand, "I'd take a baseball bat to whosever kneecaps if they hurt any one of you."

"I know, Abby." Gibbs chuckling warmed her, making her feel a little bit better that she kind of did and kind of didn't let out all of McGee's laundry. She wouldn't call it dirty because McGee was a neat freak, so it was clean laundry when it came to him. Never dirty or soiled. She glanced up at Gibbs, wondering if he was mentally running down a list of every male employee that McGee ever came in contact with and that made her grin slightly.

He'd never figure it out unless it was there slapping him in the face and that made her grin. "Just don't tell McGee I let the cat out of the bag."


McGee was transfixed by the three profiled Marines that were opened on his desktop. It wasn't that he was staring at them, but staring over them into nothingness as his mind ran amok over the different situations that kept popping up in his mind at lighting fast speeds.

Since he had left the elevator and came to his desk, it had been almost an hour and Gibbs was still down in the basement with Abby and for that entire hour McGee couldn't bring himself to actually focus on the work that he was suppose to be doing. He didn't have the mental strength to process a life changing event like the boss might have accidentally heard you're having dreams about him in your shower at the same time as going over not only your own, but the entire teams case notes for the murder that the three Marines had committed.

He started to think he would never snap out of his daze, at least, that was before a wadded up paper ball smacked him in the side of the face.

"Ha! Told you, I could make the shot." He heard DiNozzo exclaim in triumph.

McGee glanced up from the computer screen, first looking at Kate who just slowly shook her head and then looked at Tony, glaring as he grabbed the wad of paper and threw it back. "Cut it out, Tony."

"I've been tossing paper at you for the last thirty minutes, Probie." McGee glanced around his desk and sighed, glancing back up at Tony and glaring harder at him as he started to pick up the paper balls. "Was thinking you had died sitting at your computer. Just want to check before the smell settled in."

"It's not funny, Tony. I'm already on Gibbs' bad side." He tossed the paper into the wastebasket. He looked up and noticed that Tony and Kate was staring at him. "What?"

"You spilled Gibbs' coffee again, didn't you McGee?" Kate said.

McGee didn't say anything but Tony was up out of his chair, looking upset with the unspoken information. "Man, Probie. What is that? Eighteenth time this week?" Tony fell back into his sit, wadded up another piece of paper and tossed it hitting McGee in the middle of the forehead, "you do realize he takes out his missed coffee addiction on all of us, right?"

McGee bent over and grabbed the other paper ball and tossed it into the trash with the others. "I do, and I'll make it up to," McGee trailed off as Gibbs came off the elevator. Both Tony and Kate looked from Gibbs and to McGee to see what exactly was going to happen. He figured this was like watching the Discovery Channel for them. Gibbs was the lion and he was the sickly runt that was going to be mauled.

"DiNozzo, Kate, grab your gear." Gibbs came into the bull pin, rounding the corner at Kate's desk and coming into the middle. He spared a glance at McGee before turning back to the others, "you've got a dead Marine on the east side Anacostia River."

"That's just opposite us, boss." Tony trailed off at Gibbs' stern glance. "Right, east side of Anacostia, boss."

Gibbs rounded on McGee and he felt all the blood drain again. At least the look he was getting from the older man now wasn't as bad as before, "you're with me McGee. We've got a dead naval officer behind the Navy Exchange." McGee didn't move and Gibbs stared him down, after a long moment Gibbs slammed his hand on his desk, "wake up, McGee! Get your gear and come on."

"S-Sorrry, boss." McGee turned his chair around and opened the filing cabinet drawer behind him and grabbed his sig and his badge. He stood, sliding the badge onto his belt and his side arm into its familiar place then grabbed his bag, casting a look at Kate and Tony.

Gibbs was already halfway to the elevator.

"Gibbs is splitting the team up on this one," Tony mused as he glanced from Kate to McGee. "It's odd."

"He doesn't want witnesses when he kills McGee," Kate joked, smiling at him.

McGee didn't think it was funny. "McGee!" He jumped, looking back at both Tony and Kate before speed walking to the elevator barley making it in time before the doors closed. He took a deep breath and settled in the elevator back behind Gibbs and stared at the back of the older man's head. A flash of the dream he had hit him and he leaned the back of his head against the elevators rear wall.

Today was going to suck, was all McGee could think.
Tags: fandom: ncis, fiction: slash, internet: fanfiction, rating: pg-thirteen, type: series
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