Tony was sat at the kitchen table on a rather uneventful Friday evening. In front of him was a pen, a pad, a hot cup of coffee and no idea what he was doing. Of course, it was all probie's fault, and cursed himself for agreeing to the bet.
Earlier that day, he had been reading McGee's latest work out loud in the office, adding silly voices for each character and exaggerated sound effects. Tossing the book back to McGee, he had foolishly claimed he could do better, and only realised his mistake when he saw the smile growing on McGee's face.
"Really Tony? Would you bet on that?," McGee had replied, and Tony's attempts to not look embarrassed were made harder when he saw Ziva watching the whole scene intently.
"You're not serious, probie?," Tony laughed. It had just been a silly joke, nothing serious. He knew that he couldn't write a story, he would probably end up writing something from a movie.
"I am, Tony. $50 says that you can't write a short story by this time next week," McGee replied, obviously enjoying it. As they shook on it, Ziva couldn't help but let out a quick laugh, complete with embarrassing snort.
The following Friday came, and Tony felt triumphant as he handed McGee his story. Watching as McGee read the story with interest, he was impatient to know what McGee thought of it.
"Not bad, Tony. Not even a Hollywood cliché in sight," said McGee as he handed the notebook, and $50, to Tony. As Tony walked back to his desk, Ziva grabbed the story and began to read it.
"Hmm, not bad at all," she commented. The story, about an Italian man from Ohio was some sort of cross between James Bond, John Wayne and Gibbs. As Tony sat down, he put the money in his pocket and thought of the plot for the sequel.