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A Collection of Ideas and Curiosities

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Summary: Various ideas that have been attracted to my lightning rod-like imagination, and which needed clearing out.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > GeneralElginFR1567,800092,73010 Jan 1110 Jan 11No

Our Mrs McGee

Author’s Notes: This series will consist of bits of various ideas that have been attracted to my lightning rod-like imagination, and which needed clearing out so I can focus on my main project.

Setting: Post-Season Seven of BtVS; somewhere between mid-Season Three and late Season Four of NCIS. Season Eight of BtVS (comic book series) is being ignored.

Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS or NCIS.

Our Mrs McGee

“Seriously? You fell for the old Vegas cliché, McGoo?” Tony DiNozzo shook his head as he slung his pack on his back, still chuckling at McGee’s revelation from that morning.

“Vegas cliché?” Ziva David asked, bemused, as she likewise prepared to head home for the evening. “I do not understand.”

“Ignore him, Ziva,” Timothy McGee said with a heavy sigh as the three of them began to head for the lift.

“The Vegas cliché: you go to Vegas, you get drunk, and you wake up the next morning in a honeymoon suite to find that last night you got married to a complete stranger and you won a big ol’ stack of cash at the casino tables,” Tony explained. “And from what he ‘fessed up to us, that is exactly what happened to our little McGeekster on his vacation last week.”

Ziva nodded as she pressed the button to call the lift. “Ah, I see…” she said thoughtfully.

“And you’re still married to this chick?” Tony shook his head at McGee. “I don’t get it.”

Tim shrugged. “Well, we kinda got to know each other over breakfast that first morning and decided we liked each other, so we went out on a bunch of dates together, and at the end of the week we decided to give our marriage a proper try, see if we can make it work,” he said.

“Yeah, but you two have known each other, what – eight days now, tops? You only got back to D.C. today.” Tony shook his head. There was a cheerful ding! as the lift arrived. “Besides, what kinda girl would be nuts enough to wanna stay married to you—?”

The lift doors slid smoothly open: in a flash, Tim was grabbed by the lapels and hauled inside by the lift’s occupant – a brunette vision of beauty clad in shiny black leather and a too-small tank top with a dangerously plunging neckline – who bodily slammed Tim up against the wall of the lift and began kissing him vigorously enough to literally leave him breathless.

Tim slowly began to slide down the lift wall as he tried – and failed – to brace himself against this passionate assault. His attacker seemed not to notice, merely following him down and bending over as she did so; as at last Tim slid to the floor, she clambered on top of him and straddled him.

Tony’s jaw gaped open at the sight, while Ziva looked at Tim and his mystery assailant, glanced over at Tony, then smirked at his reaction and shook her head in amusement.

At length, Tim’s attacker pulled back long enough for him to catch his breath: by this point, the slightly chubby NCIS agent was lying flat on the floor while the unknown young woman sat astride his waist and grinned down at him. “Hey there, sweetie,” she purred, her smoky voice sounding toe-curlingly seductive.

“H-hi, Faith,” Tim stammered. “You have a good day?”

“Meh – had a long lie-in, checked out the shopping scene, ran into some old friends from the Pentagon and had a chat, then I got kinda bored with not having you around – first I worked out some, then I tried out some a’ your videogames. Quiet but fun,” she said, clambering off of him and helping him up.

As she turned around, Ziva and Tony saw she had a visitor’s badge hanging around her neck, dangling just below her divinely-formed décolletage. “So, who’re these guys?” she asked, her hypnotically dark eyes twinkling with curiosity and amusement.

“Uh, th-this is Ziva, and this is Tony,” Tim said breathlessly, gesturing to each of them in turn as her struggled upright.

“Ah, I heard about you guys… you’re the Israeli ninja and the movie nerd, right?” the young woman chuckled, then extended her hand. “Hi – Mrs Faith McGee.” Her smirk broadened. “Y’know, I could get used to saying that, got a nice ring to it… Sure as hell’s way better than ‘Faith Lehane’…” she muttered to herself.

“Hey! I am not a nerd!” Tony protested, as a politely smiling Ziva shook Faith’s proffered hand.

Faith cocked an eyebrow at Tony. “Oh, yeah? Name the James Bond movies, startin’ with the first one ever made an’ ending with the latest one ta come out,” she challenged.

Tony grinned in triumph. “Oh, that’s easy: there was the TV movie Casino Royale back in the Fifties, in black and white, then there was Dr No in 1963 with Sean Connery, ‘the verry besht Jamesh Bond evah’, followed by From Russia With Love in 1964—”

“Whoop-whoop! Nerd alert! Nerd alert!” Faith loudly interrupted him, making a time-out sign with her hands. “See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about – serious nerd factor, right there. You’d get on great with Andrew.”

Tony shook his head. “Hey, if anyone ‘round here’s a nerd, it’s McProbie here—”

“Uh-uh, first off, Tim’s a geek, not a nerd,” Faith corrected as Ziva and Tony boarded the lift and Tim hit the button for the ground floor. “Geeks are super-smart; nerds are just obsessed with trivia junk and don’t have the brains ta back it up. Second—”

“Hey!” Tony yelped, rubbing at the back of his head where she’d slapped him.

“—that’s for dissin’ my hubby,” Faith continued, smiling sweetly. The lift stopped and the doors trundled open. Faith took Tim by the hand. “Now, if you guys’ll excuse us, I need this man to take me home, tear my clothes off an’ screw me long an’ hard right fuckin’ now.” So saying, she half-dragged Tim – who by now was blushing furiously while grinning in disbelief at his good fortune – out of the lift, and all but ran for the exit.

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