"DiNozzo, McGee, you two drive out to Mrs. Thompson's house and interview her. Ziva, we're going to talk to Pvt. Thompson's CO."
"On it boss," DiNozzo said, grabbing his pack. McGee followed suit and Tony stood there for a second, obviously waiting for something. He was startled when the key ring he was expecting flew past his head and was picked out of the air by McGee. Tony gaped at him, mouth open. Tim smirked at him and DiNozzo turned to Gibbs, mouth still hanging.
"McGee's driving," Gibbs said simply. DiNozzo shook his head.
"But boss, as senior agent-"
"You've been late twice this week, DiNozzo. I'm sure McGee can get to Thompson's house more quickly than you can." Tony's look changed to one of indignation.
"McGee? Boss, he drives like-"
"Now, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, signaling to Ziva. As they left the room, DiNozzo turned back to McGee.
"Probie," he began, but McGee shook his head. They walked out to the SUV, Tony glaring at Tim the whole way. At the car, Tim cheerfully held the passenger door open for DiNozzo, who grumblingly climbed in.
He was still pouting when McGee got into the driver's seat.
"This means nothing, McGeek," Tony growled, but McGee grinned at him as he put the key in the ignition.
"Except that I'm a better driver," he said, and he had to keep himself from laughing at Tony's expression.
"You wish, McProbie," he muttered, glaring out the window. The car was quiet for a few minutes as Tim pulled out of the parking lot, but it quickly became apparent that DiNozzo was not going to go down quietly.
"Come on McGee, you could have made that! Now we're stuck behind this slow old geezer!" He cried as McGee allowed a green Subaru to go past.
"Tony, it's called being polite," McGee answered, rolling his eyes. A few minutes later, DiNozzo was at it again.
"The speed limit is 55 Probie, you're barely going 50!"
"Tony, shut up. I do not need you backseat driving here!" Tony grinned.
"Obviously, you do." McGee's hands tightened on the steering wheel and he gritted his teeth, refusing to give in to Tony's taunting. McGee was relieved when they left the city's boundaries; the Thompsons lived a ways off, and the traffic was bound to be less-meaning there would be less for DiNozzo to complain about, and therefore he would, in theory, shut up. McGee grinned as his theory proved true and Tony remained silent-for all of three minutes.
DiNozzo reached over and flicked the radio on, turning it to a classic rock station and blasting Bon Jovi. McGee rolled his eyes and turned the radio off.
"Tony, nobody likes Bon Jovi," he said, and Tony glared at him.
"I am not going to validate that statement by responding," he said icily, and McGee had to hide his smile. It was rare that he was the one doing the annoying, and he could actually see why Tony might enjoy it so much. His musings were again interrupted when Tony started singing, quite badly, and tapping his fingers in rhythm to "Dead or Alive." McGee nearly lost it, but instead turned the radio on and tuned it to the classical station. It was playing a loud, operatic piece that, in truth, McGee didn't like, but he was willing to put up with it as he saw DiNozzo's face.
"Opera, Probie? Seriously?" McGee looked at him innocently for a second.
"What, don't you like opera Tony? You seem like the type." Tony glared at him, then sighed and sat back in his seat. They were completely out of the suburbs now, alone on a long stretch of road with various other roads running perpendicular to it, but not much else.
"Damn, she lives out in the middle of nowhere," Tony muttered, looking at the empty fields and distinctly buildingless landscape.
"That she does," McGee agreed. "We should be there in about 15 minutes." Tony glanced up at the speedometer.
"We could be there sooner if you would just drive faster," he muttered, and McGee had had enough. He stomped on the brakes, bringing the SUV to an abrupt stop.
"DiNozzo, if you-" he started, but was cut off by a yell from Tony, a blaring of horns, and a huge noise. His head smashed against the steering wheel and he felt a searing pain, then all was black.
With a groan and a dull pounding in his head, Tim McGee regained consciousness. He looked around in confusion, unable to grasp what was going on, when he heard a noise, a screeching of metal. Turning towards the sound, he realized that the car that had T-boned them was pulling away and driving off. At that moment, he understood two things: One, that he must have been out for mere seconds, two, that the bastard who had hit them was leaving, without even checking to see if they were okay.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. "He just left, Tony." There was no response, and McGee suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to check on the senior field agent. "Tony?" DiNozzo was sitting straight up in the seat. He was pale and shivering, a stream of blood running down his face, but from his position Tim could see no other injury.
"Are you okay?" He asked, worry increasing as Tony didn't move to look at him.
"Probie?" DiNozzo finally muttered, and the worry McGee had felt increased a thousand times as Tony's voice cracked. Unbuckling, Tim leaned over to see what had happened and couldn't help a low curse from escaping his lips. A hunk of metal was sticking out of Tony's side, blood all over the seat and the metal and Tony and holy crap they were screwed…