Tony Hurts His Knee
Yep, I actually wrote a story about Tony hurting his knee. Creative title, huh. There's gonna be at least 7 chapters... I think I have too much spare time on my hands. I'm still working my other story, The Package, this silly idea just came to me and I couldn't resist writing it. Thanks for reading, please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I don't own NCIS. All hail DPB.
Tony never admits that he's hurt. But what happens when he pushes it too far?
"NCIS. Freeze!" Tony yelled, flashing his badge, partly because it looked cool and partly because the crowd that had gathering around them looked a little worried when he pointed his gun at the suspect. The suspect, wearing grey sweatpants and a red hoodie, obeyed for a second, stopping in his tracks. But he took one look at the guns Ziva and Tony were holding and took off again.
"Damn it!" Tony muttered, taking up the chase again. "Why can't they just stay still?"
With his long legs, Tony overtook Ziva, quickly gaining on the suspect. He turned into a alley off the main street to Tony's relief. He was cornered now. Tony skidded around the corner, still holding his gun, only to see the man clambering over the wire fence at the back.
"Oh, come on!" Still running, Tony glanced down. He wasn't really dressed for this kind of work, in his suit and Italian shoes. But he'd rather spoil the shoes then face Gibbs for losing the suspect, so holding back a sigh, Tony leapt onto the dumpster, following the hooded man over the fence. Using the other side of the fence as a base, Tony sprung off, regaining even more distance between himself and the man.
Tony lunged, wrapping his arms around the shoulders of the suspect, intending to bring them both to a stand-still. The suspect was a little shorter than Tony, but he was bulkier as well and kept running, Tony hanging onto his back. With a grunt, Tony dug his knees in. The man spun, trying to get rid of Tony. He lost balance, falling back onto Tony. They both fell hard, sliding and rolling down the sloped road. Coming to a halt, both men lay still, disentangling themselves. An instant later, the suspect was up again, running across the street, albeit a little slower than before.
Tony groaned, pulling himself back up. Where the hell was Ziva. Or Gibbs for that matter. Didn't matter. He'd have to catch the man by himself. Tony took off, tearing across the street, dodging the cars, catching up to the suspect again. Handcuffs at the ready, Tony barreled into the man, slamming him into the brick wall of a building as Tony clicked on the cuffs, securing them tightly. Panting, he leant back against the wall, holding the suspect by the shoulders firmly. A second later, a blue sedan pulled up, tyres screeching. Gibbs and McGee jumped out, running over to assist before they could see Tony had it under control.
Slowing to a walk, Gibbs hid a smile. Tony, now covered in dirt and gravel, might act like a lazy fratboy most of the time, but when it came to the crunch, he was the one to rely on. McGee took the suspect, leading him to the backseat of the sedan.
"Good work DiNozzo." Gibbs said with a nod. Tony didn't see the nod, but he smiled, acknowledging the complement.
"Thanks boss." He was still catching his breath. A crunch of the gravel underfoot alerted them of Ziva's arrival. Puffing only slightly, she jogged up, a smile cracking her lips when she saw the suspect apprehended and in custody.
"What took you, Zee-vah?" Tony said, standing straight and dusting himself off.
"Got lost." She said curtly.
Gibbs cocked an eyebrow. "Run faster next time. You never, never let your partner out of eyeshot."
"Yes Gibbs." She nodded, head lowered.
"We're not all gonna fit in the sedan. Ziva, you walk back and take the other car." Gibbs cast a look downwards at Tony's knees. His pants were ripped, his knees skinned and bleeding from the tussle with the suspect. He wasn't going to make Tony walk the long distance back to the café where they'd been watching the suspect. Ziva, on the other hand…
With a nod, Ziva left, taking off at a jog. Tony took the front seat, sighing sadly as he surveyed the remnants of his designer trousers, leaving McGee to share the backseat with the suspect. Not a lot of fun, because with Gibbs at the wheel they were guaranteed of being thrown into each other around every turn.
Gibbs started the car, pressing hard on the accelerator. McGee, unprepared, was sent right into the arms of the suspect. With a startled yelp, he pulled himself up, moving as far away as possible from the man.
"Chin up Probie. He's only a drug dealer. Just think how much worse it could be," Tony said brightly from the comfort of the front seat.
"Thanks, Tony." McGee smiled wryly.