DISCLAIMER: NCIS is to Don Bellisario, as "I wish it was mine!" is to KirolaiSemperFi

McGee yawned as he poured his coffee into a mug. He wasn't ready to go to work. Tony had been bothering him all week about his book deadline, and was sure to continue the harassment today. The coffee was probably going to be the highlight of his day. Sipping it slowly, enjoying the hot liquid slide down his throat, he looked around his messy apartment that was undergoing his sister's cleaning.

"Tim!"

"What?"

"You've got junk in your closet too!"

Rolling his eyes, McGee walked into his bedroom, sipping his coffee as he went. He found Sara standing in front of his open closet, carrying a closed box.

"Look. It's another box of things that's collecting dust, Tim." She shoved it in his arms, nearly spilling his coffee. "Look through it and make sure you wanna keep everything in there."

"But I have to go to work in--"

Sara glared at him. "Do it."

Sighing, McGee left the bedroom, muttering under his breath. He loved his sister to death, but when she had those cleaning urges, his apartment was always number one on her list. Probably because she knew he'd never say no to her.

"Are you going through it?"

"Yes, Boss!" McGee replied instinctively.

"I'm not your boss, Tim."

Placing his mug down on the island, McGee opened the box, revealing a bunch of papers and little items. "This is my memory box!" He said to himself, smiling as he reached in. He pulled out an envelope with the label 'AUTOGRAPHS' on it, remembering the time when he got his favorite author's by chance at a restaurant.

Next, he pulled out a creme envelope that had no label. "Huh, wonder what this is..." Setting the box down on a stool, he pulled the contents out, revealing an old newspaper clipping dating back to when he was five years old. He read to himself. "Though it appeared to be only an accident, the young boy who fell into the frozen pond was pulled to safety by a passing teenager." McGee remembered that day.

"Let's play over here, Timmy!" Adam, McGee's best friend, suggested.

The ground was covered in snow. There was no way to know that the two boys were running out onto an ice patch.

"Okay!" Little McGee followed his friend, throwing a snowball at him.

It hit Adam right in the face. "Hey!"

"I got you!"

Adam ran over and tackled little McGee, only to watch as his friend disappeared underneath the thick layer of snow. "TIM!"

Taking another sip of hot coffee, McGee continued. "Five year old Timothy McGee, the son of a naval officer, was rescued by sixteen year old--" McGee froze when he saw the name. "--Anthony DiNozzo, who's father owns DiNozzo Enterprises..." McGee couldn't help but smile. This was too weird!

The next thing Tim could remember, he was being pulled out of the freezing pond water by an unknown person.

"Are you okay?"

Tim shook his head. "I-I'm c-c-c-cold."

The older boy wrapped his arms around Tim, "It's okay. Come on." He picked Tim up, wrapping him in his own larger jacket. "Where do you live?"

Tim was too cold to answer, so Adam pointed off at a simple white house off in a little neighborhood. It wasn't that far.

"Okay. I'll take you home," the older boy said as he trudged through the snow. When he stopped in front of Tim's house, he rang the doorbell until Mr. McGee answered.

"Sara!"

"What?"

McGee put the clipping back into the envelope, putting it gently into his coat pocket. "This stuff isn't junk. It's valuable."

"To who?"

"Me."McGee looked at his watch. "And now, I hafta go to work." He left the box where it was, grabbed his keys, and left Sara to continue digging through his stuff.

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"Oh look who it is!" Tony announced as McGee walked in. "Finish your book yet, McGemcity?"

The junior agent smiled as he stopped in front of Tony's desk.

"Did you?" Tony repeated.

Still smiling, McGee held out the creme envelope, waiting until Tony hesitantly took it. Satisfied, he went over to his own desk and began to work.

"What's this, a withdrawal from your publishing company?" Tony pulled out the newspaper clipping, reading it carefully.

"What is it, Tony?" Ziva asked, leaving her desk to read the paper.

"Sir," sixteen year old Tony nodded to Mr. McGee. "Your son fell into that pond behind your house." He stepped inside, welcoming the warmth of the house.

"Oh my God! Tim, are you okay?" Mr. and Mrs. McGee took Tim from Tony's arms, rushing him down the hallway to a bedroom maybe.

For a few minutes, Tony just stood in his place, observing the nice little living room he was in. Their were numerous family photos covering the walls, and so he decided to look at them. Many were of the boy and his parents, but there were some with a baby girl and the boy too.

Tony smiled. He had saved a big brother.

"Son?" Mr. McGee came back into the room, holding out his hand. "Thank you so much."

Tony shook it. "It was nothing, Sir."

"Is there anyway we can repay you---"

Tony held up his hand. "I was just doing what anyone would do, Sir."

"What's your name, Son?"

"Anthony DiNozzo, Sir."