Palmer in the Land of Nod

Rating – T (PG-13)

Category – Crack!Fic – PWP (plot, what plot?)

A/N: Originally written in response to the NFA Crack!Fic Challenge, before I remembered that the Crack!Fic Challenge required using a prompt from the NFA Caption This game. Oh, well. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

In addition to my standing "I don't own NCIS or its characters" disclaimer, I'd like to note that this story contains references and quotes from the following movies (and are, thus, not original): "The Princess Bride", "Pirates of the Caribbean", "True Grit", "Big Jake", "The Cowboys" and "Toy Story".

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman!" the announcer's voice echoed over the screams of the audience. Palmer squirmed in anticipation. He wasn't sure exactly at what concert he was, but he could literally feel his own excitement. He joined the sold-out crowd as they pressed closer toward the stage, wanting desperately to get just a little bit closer.

His excitement level increased in time with the rhythmic clapping and chanting of the crowd. He knew it wouldn't be long now. The announcer continued, "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for… Put you hands together for Tim McGee!"

His sudden gasp of shock at seeing a leather-clad McGee come thundering out onto the stage, an electric guitar strapped to him, was not even noticed due to the squeals and screams of the fans around him.

What was McGee doing on stage? And was he wearing eyeliner? Jimmy surprised himself by noting how nicely his coworker filled out his leather pants. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. McGee's singing voice, which sounded surprisingly like that of Rick Springfield, flooded the stage as the crowd sang along.

What the heck was Michelle doing here? Jimmy began pushing through the crowd, trying to make his way to where Michelle, Ziva and Abby were dancing and enjoying the concert from the front row, right in front of the stage. Did Ziva just throw her bra onto the stage? What was that about?

"Where do you think you're going, buddy?" he heard, as several concert-goers impeded his progress.

"You'll never get out of here alive," another voice said, this one strangely familiar. But why was Tony using that weird accent? And why would he never leave the concert alive?

Jimmy was unable to finish his thought; he was suddenly gasping for breath and sputtering, after having been assaulted by a wave of sea water. Sea water? Where did that come from?

"I am the Dread Pirate Roberts… er… DiNozzo," Tony announced, stepping into his personal space. "What are you doing on my ship?"

Jimmy braced his feet in an attempt to keep his balance as the ship tossed to and fro.

"Your ship? Tony? Why are you talking like that?" Jimmy turned slightly away, only to face directly into the wind that was pounding the ship.

"Talking like what? You will obey me or walk the plank, savvy?"

"I thought you were Roberts, not Sparrow," Jimmy complained in confusion.

"Toss him overboard and bring me my lovely captive," Tony commanded.

"She said she is disinclined to acquiesce to your request," the man replied.

Jimmy stared on in shock as he spied the crew dragging Director Shepard up from below deck. She was dressed in a long, blue corseted gown; her long red hair was pulled back from her face and hung softly down her back. It took a concerted effort to pull his eyes from her impressive cleavage to see the anger and hatred on her face. She spat at Pirate DiNozzo. Tony laughed maniacally.

"Leave her alone!" Jimmy shouted as Tony pulled the captive woman into his embrace.

Pirate DiNozzo quieted him with a long, slow look over his shoulder. Jimmy gulped. He wasn't sure if Tony was threatening to kill him or seduce him. Where did that thought come from?

"No!" he heard Jenny cry and Tony dragged her below deck.

"I will save you, Director!" Jimmy shouted, gaining several confused looks from the crew. Director?

Jimmy didn't even think of how strange it was that none of the crew followed him as he made his way down the stairs and through a quiet hallway. He came upon a closed door. He leaned toward the door, listening intent. He definitely didn't want to barge in if it wasn't the correct door. Instead of plaintive begging and maniacal ravishing, he heard feminine giggles and encouragement. What was going on? That wasn't Shepard's voice… that was Michelle!

Jimmy threw the door open, prepared to do battle to rescue his fair Michelle from the Dread Pirate DiNozzo. What he found made him take a step back. Make that two steps back. Rock star McGee was lounging on a soft sofa, shirtless. Abby, Ziva and Michelle, now adorned only in matching black negligee, were all over Tim.

"What's going on here?" Jimmy demanded.

"What's it look like?" McGee answered cockily.

"I beg your pardon, but we're kind of busy here," Abby said before turning back to McGee. She began placing kisses down his neck and chest. McGee smirked, not taking his eyes off Jimmy.

"Don't make me hurt you," Ziva said, turning to walk slowly toward him. He gulped. He was tempted to stay just to see what she had in mind.

"Could you close the door on your way out, please?" Michelle added sweetly.

Jimmy stepped backward and allowed the door to slam closed in front of him. He heard the telltale click of the lock sliding home just before the giggling resumed. He shook his head. Something was definitely wrong.

He turned and began to walk back down the hallway, his head hanging with shame and sadness at the turn of events. How could Michelle do something like that to him? Suddenly he stopped walking. What was that sound? Crickets? Frogs? He began walking again, and noticed he was no longer indoors, but on a dusty path. It was late, and he was alone. Except for God-only-knew how many animals. He shivered at a howl in the distance. He turned in a circle, searching desperately for some sign of life. Well, human life. He swallowed over the lump in his throat.

After walking for what felt like hours, he noticed smoke in the distance. A campfire! That meant people. And safety. Possibly even food. He headed in the direction of the smoke, not allowing himself to think of the possibility of the party not being friendly.

Jimmy looked around curiously as he reached the campfire. There were signs of people, but he could see know one.

He startled when he heard a slow, threatening voice from behind him.

"Young fella, if you're looking for trouble, I'll accommodate ya."

Jimmy raised his arms, as if surrendering, as he turned to face the owner of the gruff voice. "Agent Gibbs?" he asked in surprise, earning a sideways look and the glint of the man's steely blue eyes.

"I never shot nobody I didn't have to," Gibbs continued.

It was at that moment Jimmy noticed the revolver in the man's hand, skillfully trained on the part of his anatomy of which he was most fond.

Another voice joined from the opposite direction, "Well son, since you haven't learned to respect your elders, it's time you learned to respect your betters."

"Dr. Mallard! Thank God!" Jimmy's face broke into a smile of relief at the sight of his mentor.

"I wouldn't make it a habit of calling me that, son," he replied, his accent a sharp contrast to his western attire.

Jimmy thought to himself that he needed to watch a few less John Wayne movies in his spare time.

"There's a snake in my boot!" Jimmy turned his head to the side in time to see Woody from Toy Story sitting on log in front of the fire. He quirked an eyebrow in response. What is he doing here?

"To infinity and beyond!" he heard himself shouting in response. He jerked as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Jimmy? Jimmy! Wake up!" Michelle's voice fought its way into the madness that had been his dream.

"Michelle?" he asked sleepily.

"Of course, who else would be in bed with you?

Jimmy didn't even want to speculate.