Just a little Oneshot. I've never done a oneshot really, but here it is! Hope you like it!
I... might own NCIS? aww nope, I guess not. Don't own NCIS.
Timothy McGee stood like a child lost in a grocery store. Hurried people buzzed about him as he stood, duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a messenger bag over the other. He uneasily looked about himself, as if he were unsure of his presence in this busy place. Where are all these people going? Who are they? Why are they going where they're going? What new things will they find? What will they experience? What-.
McGee was broken from his thoughts as a loud tone sounded throughout the enormous structure, followed by the monotone voice of a woman.
*Hello, and thank you for choosing Dulles International Airport. Please remove all containers containing 3 or more ounces from your possession prior to passing through security. If it's suspicious, report it. Do not trust anyone...*
McGee nodded to himself, assuring that he didn't have said containers on himself. Dulles International. McGee smiled.
It had been so long since he'd allowed himself a vacation. Or rather, Gibbs had allowed him a vacation. After what seemed like years of non-stop work, the young agent decided to check with NCIS administration and human resources to determine how much paid-time-off he had accrued. He smiled as he remembered the conversation.
Xxx Flashback xxX
"37 days?" McGee exclaimed in disbelief. Jen, the human resources agent assigned to him, nodded, smiling.
"So you mean to tell me... that I have 37 days off."
"Yes, Agent McGee."
"Or, well, I could have 37 days off. In a row."
"Yes, Agent McGee."
"Non-stop. You mean, without interruption?"
"And I can, you know, relax?"
"If that's what you choose to do."
"So... you mean to tell me... I can travel?"
Jen sighed. Obviously the rumors about Gibbs' team were true. These agents never had time off. Even though it seemed humorous, she frowned a little as McGee, and his brilliant mind, attempted (and failed) to truly understand what it meant to have time off.
"Look, Agent McGee. You can request 37 days off. I wouldn't recommend it, though, knowing how valuable you are to the MCRT." At that McGee just stared at her in disbelief. Jen smiled at his deer in the headlights look.
"I would recommend that you take about two weeks off. I'm sure Agent Gibbs would not appreciate if you took all 37 days off."
McGee only nodded, still staring blankly at her. It was only after Jen cleared her throat several times that McGee came back to reality.
"Ok, um Jen I'd like to take those two weeks. Ummm 14 days. In about a month."
Jen smiled and handed him the necessary paperwork to fill out.
Within Agent McGee, the gleeful anxiety of uncertain travel swelled within him. The places he could go. The people he could meet. The things he could see. Hell, he could cross some things off his bucket list. As McGee smiled broadly, his pen sweeping over the paperwork, he failed to notice the presence behind him.
"Taking some time off, yes?" Ziva asked innocently from around his shoulder.
McGee jumped, subsequently elbowing the assassin in the cheek. His face turned bright red as he just (inadvertently) physically assaulted the deadliest member of NCIS.
"Oh god Ziva, I'm sorry! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that! I'm sorry, do you need ice?"
Ziva stood glaring at him, slowly rubbing her now throbbing cheek. The look of death was in her eyes, but she still wore a slight, almost undetectable smile.
"No, McGee, I do not need ice. Why are you so jumpy? You should be used to that by now. What are you doing here?"
McGee, still not sure if he'd live to see the two weeks he was requesting off, mustered "I'm, well umm, I've got some time, and well, I'm so sorry for elbowing you-."
He was cut off by Ziva snatching the paper from his hands, causing him to drop the pen. Jen watched on in slight jealousy. As McGee stooped to pick the pen up from the ground, Ziva hummed to herself.
"Oh, well McGee, time off hmm? Two weeks? Now what do you think Gibbs would think of this? You know he hates having to use the agents in Cybercrimes when you cannot work."
"Which is almost never." McGee retorted softly. "I just… well I haven't taken time off in a long time. I think I'll go somewhere. Travel. Maybe to Europe. Or Italy. I've always wanted to see the Amalfi Coast. Or Veranna. Lake Como maybe. You know Lake Como has been a popular retreat for aristocrats and the well-to-do for centuries. Or maybe Macchu Picchu! Or The Great Barrier Reef! Although I'd have to pack sun screen. But I could learn to SCUBA dive! And…"
Ziva cocked her head at the young agent, who was working himself almost into a sweat in his excitement. Who knew McGee wanted to travel? Well, we haven't exactly spoken too much about our likes and dislikes. Or dreams even.
By the time Ziva tuned McGee back in, he was almost panting from listing off all the places he wanted to visit. She smiled at her friend.
"So, McGee. Which is it? Where will you go?"
"I'm not sure Zee. I think I'm just going to pack, go to the airport, see what flights are heading out, then pick." McGee nodded in satisfaction to himself, his cheeks almost hurting from smiling. Ziva patted his cheek with her palm.
"That sounds quite romantic. I hope you enjoy your trip, wherever you go."
"By the way, Gibbs wanted to see you." McGee's eyebrows shot up. He hurriedly finished filling out the paperwork as he babbled to himself again.
"Oh god, I've kept boss waiting? Ziva, why didn't you tell me sooner? He's going to have my six. Awww I may not even get this time off if he's angry…"
As McGee finished the sentence, he tossed Jen the paperwork and ran down the hall towards the elevator.
Ziva took a few steps over to Jen's desk, and leaned against it.
"Oh Agent David, I hope Agent McGee doesn't get in trouble with Gibbs."
"Gibbs didn't need him." Ziva smiled to herself deviously. Jen looked at her in confusion, then decided to change the subject.
"He's cute, Agent McGee I mean. Don't you think?"
Ziva simply turned to Jen, smiling, a mischevous twinkle in her eyes.
Xxx End Flashback xxX
McGee chuckled to himself, remembering the awkward look Gibbs gave him a month ago as he apologized for being late to his Boss' apparent non-existent request. Well, whatever that was, at least I'm here now. Here now. But where in a day? That's the beautiful thing. Where will I be tomorrow? What beauty, culture, history, traditions, and memories will I experience tomorrow?
McGee's chest heaved with happiness. He let it out slowly as he watched the enormous list of departing flights from Dulles. So Timothy McGee, where do you want to spend two weeks? Where do you want to go? London? Germany? Ooh! Maybe Switzerland? Or Italy. The Amalfi Coast would be beautiful. Aaah this is too hard a decision! If I don't choose now I'm never going to make a decision! Then the flights will leave, and I'll still be here! No, Timothy McGee, make a decision!
After a few more minutes of glancing from flight to flight, his eyes settled on the correct decision. It just felt right. McGee took a deep breath, and approached the ticket counter, confidence swelling in his heart.
McGee had passed through security without a delay, stowed his carry-on bag, and now sat, a book and a notebook with a pen on his lap, as he stared out the window onto the tarmac. He had been lucky enough to land one of the last window seats on the international flight, and was now nestled comfortably (or as comfortably as he could be) in the seat as he awaited takeoff. As he sat, he pulled out the emergency landing booklet, opening it to review what to do in case of emergency. As his eyes passed over the images of crash scenarios, he shook his head.
Yeah right, if those goddamn oxygen masks come falling from the ceiling, I am definitely going to panic. Ha! Water landing? Are you kidding me? 'Water Landing'? More like, 'Nose dive into the ocean then everyone drowns. Then gets eaten by sharks'. Huh, if you see flames outside the door, don't exit. Really? So I'm not supposed to walk out into flames? Really? wrap my arms around my legs and put my face in my lap? Who's that flexible? Great, so i'll be on fire, drowning, probably broken bones, and then I have to inflate my own life vest? No thanks, i'll just drown.
McGee was broken from his sarcastic thoughts by the pilot's voice.
*kckckcxxkxx Hello everyone, this is you're pilot speaking. Thank you for joining us on our non-stop flight to Leonardo Di Vinci/Fiumicino Airport in Rome, Italy. We are just waiting for a few more last minute passengers, but should be on our way shortly. Thank you for your patience.
Italy. Timothy McGee, you made the right choice.
He put back the pamphlet and stared out the window, watching the refueling vehicle drive away from the fuselage. As the writer in him began concocting a story about what he was currently doing, he didn't notice a woman take the middle seat to his left. She buckled her seatbelt, placed a book on her lap, and turned to look at McGee, who was currently engrossed with what was going on on the tarmac. She smiled as she saw him tense, becoming aware of the pair of female eyes that stared at him. Slowly he turned to face her, and gasped.
"Ziva? What are you doing here? I, well, umm, you just, what the hell?"
Ziva chuckled to herself as she patted McGee's knee and opened her book nonchalantly.
"Oh just heading to Rome. To visit the Amalfi Coast. Maybe stay in a villa on Lake Como. I thought that maybe you'd enjoy the company." She pushed some hair behind her ear, biting her bottom lip as she did.
McGee resisted the impending blushing that he felt building up within him, but couldn't stop it when Ziva leaned over, and kissed his cheek. He felt her warm breath on his ear as she whispered, "And maybe we can get to know each other outside of work, yes?"
McGee turned bright red as he felt the plane lurch forward, whispering back, "I'd love that Ziva. I'd love that. Next stop, Amalfi Coast."