disclaimer: ncis does not belong to me. mcgee's towel might, as i've never seen it mentioned before. i apologize in advance - this is short and rough and too stilted, but it refused to leave me alone, buzzing around in my head like an angry fairy, and i choose ooc-ness over the loss of my sanity any day. also, now there might be room for something more worthwhile.



"How come you never correct him?" asked McGee, as he watched the elevator doors close on Tobias Fornell.

"What's that, Probie?" Tony looked up from his computer and eyed him speculatively in that special way he had, the way that made Tim feel like a bumbling idiot who'd just said or done something supremely stupid, even when he hadn't. Kind of like when he tried to talk to girls in highschool, come to think of it...and wasn't THAT a train of thought that needed serious derailing?

Shifting uncomfortably, McGee visualised his dignity as a bath towel and pulled it securely around himself.

"Fornell. How come you never correct him?"

"Why do I never correct someone who bears a remarkable similarity to the evil killer pygmies in The Mummy Returns? I don't know, Timmy. What exactly is it you think I should correct?"

"His pronounciation. He's always getting your name wrong. I figured it would, uh, bother you. I mean... It SEEMS like it'd..."

"Well, yes. It would. And I am touched that you're concerned about my feelings, Probie, but he's technically not pronouncing it wrong."

"...He's not?"

"McGee, McGee, McGee..." Tony grabbed a cold pizza slice from the box perched precariously on the stack of files to the right of his screen, leaned back in his chair in that criminally lascivious way of his, and smiled blindingly. "Apparently your genius does not extend to linguistics. I don't know WHAT you'd do without me here to educate you! Now, where does THIS-" he waved the pizza slice at McGee demandingly, "-come from?"

"Uh..." McGee was rather regretting ever having started this conversation. "...The Pizza Hut three blocks from here?" Oh, no. There was that look again. Hold on to your towel, McGee! "Or...well..."

"Italy, Probie! Italy!" Tony interrupted impatiently, "The mother country! Home of my ancestors! Paradise on earth! Land of wonderful food, beautiful women and designer shoes! How many z's are there in pizza, Timmyboy?"

"Two..." said McGee, suspiciously.

"And how many z's are there in DiNozzo?"


"So... how do YOU pronounce pizza?"