AN: Don't know where it came from, but here it is. Oh well.
Disclaimer: I own a notebook, two pairs of walking shoes and a backpack that doesn't fit anywhere near all the ...stuff...I have brought while overseas...but I do not own NCIS or anything else that can be easily recognised in this story. So there!
Normally Tony DiNozzo had no problems waiting for a case to appear. He had any number of ways to entertain himself, from throwing things at Ziva, torturing the Probie, or even trying to figure out the enigma that is The Gibbs. But Gibbs was up in MTAC. McGee was helping out his old 'Geek Squad'. And Ziva...Ziva wasn't around. Looking around the almost empty office, Tony admitted to himself that he should be doing something constructive, probably involving the stack of reports on his desk but he knew that if he tried to do anything with them now, it wouldn't end up looking like any kind of official document. So feeling alone and just a little forlorn, he decided to go and talk to the one person who he knew would listen.
Abigail Scuito, Lab Tech Extraordinaire.
Entering her lab, Tony was surprised to hear that Abby's usual working soundtrack had been replaced by what seemed to be a recording of..."Winston Churchill?"
Responding to the urgency in her voice, Tony halted in his steps; one foot raised and arms out to balance himself. Feeling fairly stupid, he focussed on the dark haired lab tech standing on the other side of the room with hands outstretched as if to psychically hold him in place. "Abby, why did I freeze?"
"Um...because you were about to crush the Allied forces landing at Omaha?!?"
"What?" Gingerly shifting his weight backwards and putting his foot down, Tony inspected the area he had been about to step on. Much to his surprise, there was a light coating of what could be sand, a couple of toy tanks and what appeared to be..."Paperclip soldiers? Abs, I thought you were done with Gallipoli?"
"Don't you listen, Tony? That's Omaha beach which means that this entire room is the D-Day Normandy invasion of World War Two – completely different from Gallipoli!"
"Well... after the rousing success of my Gallipoli recreation, I decide to try something ...bigger. That, and there is nothing else to do."
"Tell me about it. I was so bored I almost started to catch up on my reports. Can you imagine?!?"
Snickering at their slightly immature behaviour, Abby and Tony sat on the edge of the table as they surveyed the chaos that had taken over Abby's lab.
"You know that the Director won't like you wasting time with this."
"Well he should know better than to leave me without real work to do. I've already processed what needed processing and have scrubbed out the lab as well – even under Major Mass Spec. It was either this or attempting to learn Macramé again. And you remember what happened last time!"
"Hmm. Good call."
Noticing a small group of paper clip soldiers further 'inland' from the majority of the action, Tony indicated toward them with a tilt of his head. "Who are they?"
"They're Easy Company, 2nd battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Division, 101st Airborne Division. They're taking out the guns at Brecourt so that the Germans couldn't fire upon the Allied Landing Zone. See, this one is Winters, that one over there is Malarkey, and this one, this one here is Bill Guarnere."
"You know their names?"
"I re-watched Band of Brothers."
Picking up one of the small group, Tony inspected the twisted piece of metal carefully. "How can you tell?"
"Which one Guarnere is?"
"Because of the angry way he is holding his gun."
Holding the faceless paperclip soldier up to eye level, Tony inspected the mini-paratrooper in detail. "Huh. I kinda see it." Carefully placing Bill Guarnere back into the heat of the battle, the two friends lapsed back into a companionable silence. But Abby being who she was, that wasn't going to last for very long.
She started by knocking her foot into Tony's. When he didn't react she did it again, slightly harder. Startled out of his pensive thoughts, he turned towards his Goth friend.
"Are you ever going to talk about it?"
" 'bout what, Abs?"
"You know what, Tony." And with that, Abby levelled him a significant glance.
Placing his familiar 'not a care in the world' look on his face, he smiled at Abby as he replied. "Of course I'm going to talk about it."
Waiting as the silence lengthened, Abby took pity on her friend. "But not just yet, huh?"
"No Abs, not just yet."
With one last foot-knock, they smiled in mutual understanding before Tony broke the charged atmosphere. "So...need a hand with this?"
"Do you think you can make a landing craft out of a Petrie dish?"
"I can try."
And with that, the two would have set to work, were it not for the sudden appearance of Timothy McGee bursting through the Lab door, spouting techno-babble at a highly rapid pace. Abby tried to give the same warning she had given Tony, but before she could interrupt the babble, Tim stepped on one of the toy tanks that populated 'Utah' and as his foot skidded from underneath him, Abby and Tony could only look on helplessly as he fell, his head catching the edge of the table hard on his way down.
For Timothy McGee, the next part involved unconsciousness.
"Tim! Timmy! Are you okay?!?"
Head swimming as he gradually made his way back from semi-consciousness to full consciousness, Tim could make out a couple of vague shapes hovering over him. Seeing one of the shapes thrust something towards him, he could hear Tony's voice drift towards him. "How many fingers, Probie?"
Abby and Tony looked towards each other in bemusement as Tim gave a goofy smile and a reply of "I can see three, but I'm pretty sure there's more hiding."
Glancing at the two fingers that Tony still held extended, Abby came to a quick conclusion. "You need to see Ducky."
With that, she motioned for Tony to help her hoist the stunned young man to his unsteady feet. Each draping an arm over their shoulders, Abby and Tony guided the dazed NCIS agent towards the door.
"I was attacked by bunnies, DiNozzo, I'm not dying." Giving a funny look towards his incapacitated team-mate, Tony became slightly worried. "Maybe he's broken. Quick Abs, ask him a McGee type question!"
"McGee? What are six prime numbers between four and forty-five?"
"Four to forty five? Five, eleven, seventeen, twenty-one, twenty-three, thirty-seven."
"Sounds good to me."
"Tony! Twenty-one isn't a prime number!"
"Five out of six is still okay. Come on McGoo, you have a date with Mr X-Ray."
"But what about my date with Molly Ringwald?"
Gallantly suppressing his sniggers, Tony struggled to keep a straight face as he answered the injured man. "You may have to let her down easy, Probie."
And with that, the doors closed behind the departing trio, leaving the lab empty of everything but the paperclip and carnage strewn fields of Normandy.
AN: I have a possible follow-up chapter for this, but it looks like it is going to be even weirder, so let me know if you want it or not.