"Tony, that is none of your business," Ziva sat behind her desk, tapping a pen on her desk as she eyed her nosy fellow agent, "Don't pick on McGee."
"But it's so much fun!" A few taps of the keyboard, and Tony was in. "Cake. McGee is way too predictable." Navigating to Special Agent Timothy McGee's e-mail account, he scrolled through a folder of personal e-mail, pursing his lips. Most of them were from his sister, but there were a couple with images of furniture. He frowned.
"All that work, and I only found out he's re-decorating his place with Mason Design. Great."
"Yes, all that work," rolling her eyes, Ziva heard the elevator ding. She glanced over her shoulder to see a nervous-looking McGee entering the area. "Tony," she whispers harshly.
The Senior Field Agent was on top of it, already pushing himself to a rolling stop at his own desk, having re-locked the personal computer of Agent McGee. As the younger agent walked into the room, he sighed, "I hope you didn't superglue my keyboard again, Tony."
"I would do nothing of the sort, Timothy."
Sitting down, McGee tested the keyboard with a light tap of his fingers before logging in. He changed the password with a glance at Tony, dropping his bag on the floor. Slightly unzipped, the bag fell over and spilled its contents.
The ever-curious Anthony DiNozzo was quick on his office chair wheels to roll over and begin picking up the items which fell from the bag. A slip of yellow carbon paper was among the effects, and it was the one which first caught Tony's eye. Opening it, he raises both eyebrows. "Big spender…what the heck did you buy for yourself at Cartier, McGee?"
Ziva looked up from her desk, having ignored the two of them until that moment. She paused in her writing and leaned in a little to listen.
McGee sighed and reached for the things on the floor, awkwardly leaning down to grab them. He picked up the bag and began stuffing his brown-bagged lunch, thermos, and spy novel back into the knapsack. "That is none of your business."
"That is what I told him," Ziva interjected.
Tony chuckled and folded up the receipt to hand it back. Just as he was getting ready to wheel his chair into the appropriate position, he spotted a red box on the floor. Bending a knee and kneeling to the floor to reach under the desk, his hand was quicker than McGee's. He snatched up the red leather Cartier box and smirked, "I'm betting diamond-studded custom cufflinks for the Elf Warrior. What do you think, Ziv…" He trailed off slowly and blinked a few times at the open box.
"Tony!" It came out much whinier than Tim had intended, but he stood to try and grab the box from Tony.
Agent Gibbs had a cup of coffee in-hand as he walked into the bullpen. Ziva and McGee were both standing, their eyes on DiNozzo. Slowing his pace to a stop, Gibbs' gaze narrowed. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a slow sip before speaking, "Are congratulations in order, DiNozzo, or has he turned you down?"
Snatching the entire box away from Tony, McGee checked the item within and straightened it. He cleared his throat and placed the box in the bag.
"No, no…let me see. What is it that you have there, McGee?" Ziva moved towards him, curiously.
"I don't understand. Why…do you have an engagement ring, McGee?" Tony stood slowly and kept his narrowed gaze on his fellow agent, "Are you keeping it for someone? No, because you signed that receipt."
Gibbs smirked and moved to sit at his desk. He tapped his password into his computer and opened his e-mail account, "For an agent who once kept a secret from the rest of his team, Tony, you don't seem too understanding."
"Boss, McGee can't keep secrets," Tony whined, "He's just…not…that good!"
"Thanks, Tony," Tim sighed and shook his head, keeping quiet as he worked on his computer.
Tony slunk slowly back to his seat, sitting. Glancing every few seconds back to McGee, Tony began trying to figure out if he'd missed signals…anything at all that could have told him about McGee's impending engagement. He had never given any indication that he had a girlfriend, let alone a serious one.
Ziva didn't return to her seat. She walked to McGee's desk and reached out to touch his shoulder softly, "I wish you the best, McGee. And I hope that your first child may be a son."
Tim McGee colored where he sat, clearing his throat and tugging at his collar, "Thank you, Ziva."
Gibbs' phone rang. He smirked as he answered it, "Gibbs."
"How could you get this past me? I work with you every single day, and you've never mentioned a girlfriend or anything. Now you're getting married?"
"If she says yes," McGee muttered softly without looking up at the perplexed Tony.
Tony's look of betrayal faded slowly and he pursed his lips, "You nervous? Must be a pretty new relationship if you're not sure that she'll say yes."
"McGee has been with this girl for…about a year. Is that correct, Timothy?" Ziva moved slowly back to her desk, her eyes on Tony.
He was getting pretty tired of talking about it, and having such a conversation was certainly doing nothing for McGee's nerves on the subject, "Can we drop this subject?"
"How do you know that? McGee, how does she know that?!" Tony was just getting more and more confused.
"I believe the rise in your voice may be attributed to the fact that you may be a little jealous of young Timothy," sitting at her desk, Ziva grabbed a pen and lifted it to her lips. She bit down on it with a smirk.
"Prove it. What is her name? Just a name…"
"Ella Mason," the answer didn't come from McGee. Gibbs stood slowly and looked at McGee, who seemed surprised to hear that from Gibbs. He'd done his best to hide his relationship from the team, even his boss.
"Yeah…yeah, that is her name. How did you know that, Boss?" Tim McGee was most interested to hear the answer. He leaned back in his chair a little.
Gibbs' smirk from earlier had vanished. His expression was stoic as usual, but with a hint of 'troubled'. "Tony, Ziva. Get your gear. Go to this address," he handed a slip of paper to Tony, "I'll meet you there. McGee…come with me."
Tony took the slip of paper and read the details. His expression changed and he looked at Gibbs, his lips parting slightly as if to protest.
Ziva and Tony turned on their heels to exit the bullpen and head for the elevators. McGee stood and put his backpack over his shoulder. "Boss, I understand that I caused a slight distraction this morning, but it won't happen again."
"That's not the problem, McGee," he said, looking over his colleague's head for a moment before allowing their eyes to meet, "You're being considered as a suspect in a possible homicide."