Author's Note: Yay, my first NCIS fic. :) It's pretty pointless, but hopefully fun. If it's a little roughly OOC, I apologise; I didn't get it beta'd by someone who's written NCIS before. It's four chapters long, and the second one should be up in about a week, m'kay? Hope you like this, y'all! Remember to please leave a comment when you've read this, yeah? Tell me how I'm doin'!
Disclaimer: If I could, I would. But I can't. And I don't. And I never will. I do have a lizard named Ducky though, because he's so adorkable and I wanted one of my very own. :)
"Bored…bored…boooooooring," said the voice of NCIS agent Anthony DiNizzo; he sat at his desk with his head down, resting on the pillow his folded arms made. His eyes were closed and between every word he would draw a deep breath and sigh pitifully. "Bored…bored…booooooooooooring. Bored…bored… Boooor—"
"Enough!" Ziva David snapped viciously. She didn't even glance his way, but her tone was laced with annoyance as she said, "We get it, Tony. You are bored."
Tony raised his head up and looked over to the spot where she sat at her desk. "Oh, and I suppose you'll tell me you're not absolutely bored out of your mind right now?"
"I am more curious than bored, Tony."
"Curious?" The smooth-talking agent spun around in his swiveling chair once before facing his partner again. "About what?"
"The reason why Gibbs will not let us go home," Ziva replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "There is absolutely no reason for us to be here, and yet he will not let us leave."
"She's right, you know," another agent, Tim McGee, said. He finished whatever he had been doing on his computer and saved it before continuing: "We're not even working on a case at the moment." He looked at his team members once before looking down to straighten his dark red tie.
Tony looked thoughtful. "I haven't really been thinking about that," he admitted. "So why did Gibbs tell us not to leave?"
"Maybe he has something important to tell us. Some major development in something," McGee suggested.
Ziva shook her head. "Whatever it is, it can not be very important, or he would have already said something. But instead he just took off and left us waiting here for nearly half an hour." She sighed in frustration and wrapped her red jacket tighter around her.
"I think he's got something planned for us," Tony said almost happily, "something really horrible that'll test our skills and intelligence as an agent and—"
"For once, DiNizzo, you're actually not completely wrong," the voice of Leroy Jethro Gibbs interrupted. All three agents jumped out of their chairs, startled. None of them had noticed their boss approaching until he was already beside them.
Gibbs settled himself at his own desk and beckoned his team closer. When they were all standing in front of him, they noticed he was carrying, not his signature cup of coffee, but instead a small plastic jar filled with little pieces of folded white paper.
"Umm, boss," McGee said, gesturing to the jar, "what is that?"
"Wait," was all Gibbs said, not even looking at him. He was eyeing the elevator expectantly. There was a long moment of awkward silence, and then the elevator doors opened and the NCIS forensic scientist, Abby, and their autopsy doctor, Ducky Mallard, stepped out.
"I believe you wanted to see us, Jethro," Ducky said.
"I did, Duck."
"So what's up?" Abby asked, her voice dripping curiosity. She asked no more questions, however, when Gibbs just smiled and handed her the 'Cafe-Pow' drink he was holding, having got it just for her. "Thanks!" she said happily, taking a long drink from it.
McGee looked from Abby to Ducky. "Do you guys know what's going on here?" he asked.
Abby shook her head and Ducky said, "I haven't the faintest idea." The doctor hummed in possible amusement and met his old friend's gaze. "Are you going to tell us what this is about, Jethro?"
"Yep," Gibbs replied.
There was a silence, where everyone seemed to be waiting for Gibbs to continue. He, however, didn't look like he was ready to go on anytime soon. Tony was the first to speak up:
"Right now." Gibbs picked up the jar McGee had asked about earlier. "You five," he began, "are going to play a game."
Another silence, this one because everyone had frozen in astonishment. "A game, Gibbs?" Ziva asked hesitantly, as if she were afraid she hadn't heard it right.
Abby set down her drink and clapped her hands once in excitement. "Awesome!" She grinned. "What kind of game?"
"I like to call it 'The Communist' game," Gibbs said. Someone might have asked another question here, but he went on before anyone could: "It's simple enough, for anyone who has any brains. In this jar"—he held it up again—"there are five slips of paper. Four of them have the word 'American' on it. The fifth reads 'communist'."
Abby interrupted: "I think I played this game in high school. Everyone draws from the jar, one by one, and the Americans have to try to find the communist. The commie has to try to fool everyone into thinking they're an American, right?"
Gibbs smiled. "You got it, Abbs," he said.
Ducky appeared to be deep in thought. "That's very interesting," he said. No one said anything in response, but Tony looked to be thinking just as hard as Ducky.
"And we're doing this why?" he asked.
Gibbs' smile disappeared. "Because I told you to, DiNizzo. You got a problem with that?"
Agent DiNizzo got that deer in the headlights look. "Um—not at all, boss…sir… It sounds like a great idea." He smiled hopefully, pointedly ignoring Ziva's snicker.
"I'm trying to remember," Abby said, probably to keep Tony from getting into any more trouble. "How do you play this again?"
"Some of the slips of paper have clues," Gibbs said. "Some of the clues lead to the name of the communist, and the others—"
"When you say 'the name of the communist'," McGee said, and if he was at all nervous about interrupting his boss he tried not to show it; "are you saying you already know who's going to draw what?"
"Yeah, I do, McGee," Gibbs replied, probably sound more cross than he really was. Since McGee—and everyone else, for that matter—still looked confused, he added: "I'm taking each of you aside one by one and giving you a paper. I've already decided who's going to be the communist—for a certain reason."
"Okay," Ducky said, "and the clues that don't lead to the name of the communist; what do they lead to?"
"A blacklist paper," Gibbs answered shortly.
"Blacklist," Abby said, "that's where you accuse someone of being a communist, right? And even if they're not one, they're out of the game, yeah?"
Gibbs nodded. "Now can we get on with it?" He said it like a question, but it wasn't really one of at all; he was telling everyone he was moving on. He stood up, the jar of papers in his hand. "Abby, you're first."
Abby followed him back behind the stairs, out of sight. She returned a moment later, her expression carefully guarded so as to not give anything away.
"Where is your paper?" Ziva asked, eyeing her empty hands.
"Gibbs keeps them all," Abby answered shortly. She sat down in one of the chairs and said, "He wants you next, McGee."
McGee stood up and went back behind the stairs. When he returned, everyone eyed him just the way they had Abby. "So, what are you?" Tony asked eagerly, studying McGee's expression carefully.
"American," the other agent replied—what everyone's going to say no matter what, obviously. He met Tony's gaze and then nodded at him "You're next," he said.
When Tony came back, Ziva shot one look at his face—as expressionless as everyone else's was—and shouted, "Communist!"
"There's where you're wrong, Zee-vah," Tony said smoothly. He sat down at his desk and spun around in his chair a couple of times. "Your turn," he told his partner.
Ziva left and returned shortly, and Ducky went. After Ducky had drawn, Gibbs came back over and sat at his desk.
"You have an hour to find the clues," he said to all of them. "At the end of the hour, you come back and—this is the most important part—you have to form an alliance with at least one other player. And you better be darn certain that you're not in an alliance with the communist."
"What if you are, though?" Tony asked.
"Then the communist has successfully fooled you and gained access to important military secrets. You're a failure to your country and an embarrassment to federal agents." By the serious tone Gibbs spoke with, this could have been way more than a game. Tony gulped.
Gibbs looked at each person individually. "Any more questions?" Everyone shook their heads no, looking uneasy under the silver-haired agent's stare.
"Then why are still standing here?" Gibbs demanded. "Go!"