HOLA!!!! This is my first NCIS story. It says prologue, but this may just end up being a oneshot, but only because I'm having trouble deciding where this story is gonna go. I'm gonna need some great motivation to continue. I look at the story traffic, and stuff like that, but reviews are the best motivation! Okay, so here we go!
Title:Time Marches On
Pairing:Not sure yet, but it'll come to me eventually
Warnings: Character 'deaths'
Disclaimer: I'm not even sure who owns NCIS, but whoever it is is an unparralled genius!
It had started out as a normal day for the team at NCIS.
"McGee! Tony! Where is Ziva?" Gibbs demanded as soon as he walked through the aisle between the four desks, coffee in his hand still steaming, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. He dumped it beside his desk, and sipped the coffee.
McGee practically jumped out of his chair, and Tony cast the Director's office a guilty look, giving Gibbs the answer before McGee even stuttered it. They had apparently been disscussing that exact same thing when their boss had strode in.
"B-boss! Good morning. Um, the Director called her into his office about half an hour ago." the younger man said nervously. For some reason, he didn't know why, he felt unusually uneasy today.
"Are you talking about me?" a slightly accented female voice called from the balcony above their heads. McGee and Dinozzo suddenly got very busy, but Gibbs just smiled, but the smile quickly turned into a frown when he saw his agent's expression.
Ziva had an odd look on her face, equal parts sadness and determination. She was thinking about what Director Vance had just told her, and what he said she would have to do to prevent it. She walked slowly down the stairs to her desk. When she finally took her seat, things had gone back to normal, McGee was arguing with Abby over the phone, something about limewire, and whether it actually downloads viruses. Tony was lounging in his chair, almost asleep. Ziva was playing a virtual game called spider solitaire. Gibbs had went up to the Directors office, coming back an hour later, scowling. Tony was called there, too, a few minutes later. McGee was the only one who wasn't summoned. When Tony came back, Gibbs looked straight at Ziva.
"Get your gear, we're heading out." he ordered shortly. He tossed Tony the keys to one of the vans, "Just follow behind me."
Tony sighed and nodded, almost sadly. McGee chose to ride with him, deciding that Tony's driving was less of a threat on his life than Gibbs'. Tony thought about stopping the younger man and coming up with the story that Abby needed him, but something stopped him.
Ziva frowned and realized it was time to set the plan in motion. She climbed into the small gray car with Gibbs, and the two vehicles pulled out into the dusk.
A few minutes later McGee noticed that through the tinted windows of the car they were following, Gibbs and Ziva seemed to be arguing, the headlights that Tony had turned on illuminating everything but their silhouettes, making everything clear to him. The fight seemed to get incredibly heated, with Ziva gesturing wildly, and Gibbs shouting back, and McGee thought that Gibbs seemed to be winning, but finally he saw his boss nod his head in acceptance.
"Hey, Tony, what do you think that was about?" he asked the senior field agent, who had also witnessed the scene, but just shook his head, leaving the Probie with more questions than answers.
After a while they pulled through the checking booth of a military base. It seemed unusually guarded, as the fatigue dressed men made all of the agents get out of the vehicles and submit to a body search and a search through the cars, even after they had flashed their badges and i.d.'s. Finally the officers let them proceed. They kept going until they came upon what looked like an abandoned bunker, the parking lot overrun with large cracks where weeds pushed themselves stubbornly through. When McGee went to get out of the van, Tony stopped him. For once the goofy grin was gone, replaced by a deadly serious frown.
"Probie... McGee, actually I need you to stay here. Gibbs wants you to watch the cars, there is an... um... thief, yeah, and no one can catch him, so he might try to take off in one of the cars." If McGee wasn't scared by now, he was terrified when Tony used his name.
"Tony, what's going on?" he demanded crossly. That was one of the worst excuses he had ever heard and, coming from Tony, a person with a silver tongue, was a bit of a disappointment.
"I really can't explain. Just... stay in here no matter what." Tony commanded, and though McGee didn't like it, he had to listen to his better, so he conceded.
Tony climbed out of the van and met up with Ziva and Gibbs, all of them looked back at McGee who was sulking in the van, glaring pointedly away from them. He was too mad to notice the dire atmosphere, or the tear that slid down Ziva's cheek. The agents talked for a minute, then entered the bunker cautiously, guns drawn.
Minutes later Timothy's cell phone rang with Tony's ring tone, the song Too Sexy, which Tony had downloaded and set himself, and McGee wondered what was so important that the senior field officer couldn't be bothered to come out and say in person, but answered anyway.
Before he could say anything, Tony burst out, "McGee? Listen, I don't have much time, so I'll make this count. I just wanted you to know that you really are the best friend I ever had, no matter how much I teased you." and with that cryptic message the line went dead, leaving the shocked Probie staring at his phone. What was that about? Not much time? 'HAD?! Why did Tony say "had"?'
Suddenly a loud boom that shook the ground so violently that even the young agent was pitched forward in the van, brought his attention back to the bunker, and he was horrified to see it engulfed in silvery-orange flames, a dramatic sight against the now black, star-filled sky. Without thinking, McGee threw himself out the metal door, already realizing it was too late. He saw the roof cave in moments later, everything within the bunker that had possibly survived the explosion was now obliterated.
'No! NO NO NO NO NO!!!! This isn't happening! It can't be! It's not supposed to end like this!' he thought frantically, sinking to his knees, but he didn't feel the pain that shot up his legs when the bone met the concrete, nor did he hear the clamoring sirens. He was drowning in shock and dispair, and didn't even resist the MT that dragged him to his feet and away from the now dying inferno.
It was impossible. They couldn't be dead. Not dependable, unbreakable Gibbs. Not laughing, crazy Tony. Not unbeatable, unreadable Ziva. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!
Timothy didn't even realize he was raging at the helpless MT, nor did he feel himself go under when the sedatives the medics had given him took effect.
Chances are I won't stop there, but only if I get some good feedback. I have a question, though, when I look at the traffic, it says there's this many visitors, and this many hits. Anyone know the difference? I certainly don't... anywho, See ya!