|[NCIS] Tony DiNozzo, Sound
||[Mar. 16th, 2007|06:51 pm]
The Ultimate FanFic Challenge!
Title: Those Three Words|
Fandom: Navy: NCIS
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Abby Sciuto, Jethro Gibbs, Ducky Mallard, Tim McGee
Word Count: 1335
Summary: “Describe yourself in three words.”
“Tony!” The gleeful voice resonated through the bullpen, quickly followed by the loud sounds of heavy boots hitting the floor in an almost running pace.
Tony’s head snapped up at the exuberant greeting. “Abby.” He grinned, tilting his seat back and resting crossed ankles upon his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Abby reached Tony and leant forward to place a smacking kiss on his cheek, Tony angling his face up helpfully. She settled on Tony’s desk, shoving his feet to the side, nearly toppling Tony from his chair. Abby twirled a pig-tail around her finger coyly. “I have a question,” She announced.
Tony mock winced. “Oh you do, do you? He asked dryly. “Should I be afraid?”
“Tony!” Abby said, slapping at Tony’s arm in mock hurt. “It’s me! Of course you should be afraid. Always.”
Tony laughed. “Okay, shoot.”
Abby took a deep breath, drawing out the anticipation until- “Describe yourself in three words.”
Tony blinked and slumped back in his chair. “That was it? Abby, all that suspense for that?”
“It’s a perfectly acceptable question, Tony,” Abby insisted. “You can actually tell a lot about a person from their answer.”
“Abbs, sweetie, at the risk of sounding like House- and has anybody else noticed how similar he is to Gibbs? I swear they based him off Gibbs. Well, okay, and a little bit of Wilson too. - everybody lies. No one would tell the truth.”
Abby rolled her eyes and slapped Tony up the head, Gibbs-style. “When you have a psych degree, you can tell me all that. Now, just answer the question. And Gibbs is not like House!”
Tony flinched away. “Yes, Mistress,” He murmured sarcastically. “And three words, hmm; gorgeous, handsome, sexy.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “See, that just tells me that you’re arrogant and superficial.”
Tony widened his own set of green eyes. “Are you saying that I’m not a) gorgeous, b) handsome, c) sexy or d) all of the above?”
Abby leaned towards him flirtatiously, allowing her shirt to slide down, affording him a better view down her blouse. She dragged one finger seductively down his face to rest on his lip, the slow rasp making Tony shiver. Abby locked eyes with him, two green pairs slowly dilating.
“Oh, I didn’t say that at all,” Abby breathed softly.
Tony winced as his IM beeped loudly and he hurried into a frenzy of spastic clicking, looking away from Gibbs’ glare. His is eyes landed on McGee who flinched and mouthed ‘Sorry,’ at him.
Tony rolled his eyes and turned his speakers off, opening up the IM window.
Have you heard about the three words thing?
Tony sighed irritably, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Sex Machine says”
You mean the thing where you describe yourself in three words? Nope, never heard of it, McGeek.
I’m ignoring that. So? Describe yourself in three words.
Sex Machine says:
Tony grinned as he heard McGee mutter under his breath in annoyance.
Fine. Honestly, it would be smart, adept and…okay, fine, geek. Now you.
Sex Machine says:
Better. Than. You. :P
Tony laughed as ‘McCool’ went offline.
“Tony,” Ziva called out, her short legs waling faster to catch up with Tony’s long stride.
Tony obligingly slowed his pace to allow Ziva to catch up with him, falling into step beside him, before he returned to his usual speed. “What’s up, Zee-vah?”
“There is this…question, flying around, yes?”
“Floating, Ziva. Floating. And yeah, why?”
“Explain it to me.” Ziva ordered.
Tony sighed and slowed to a stop in front of the elevator, reaching out to wrap a warm hand around Ziva’s elbow, tugging her back to stand beside him after her extra step forward. “It’s just pretty much a question. ‘Describe yourself in three words’. Supposedly you can read people psychologically by their answers. Yeah, I know, it’s stupid.”
Ziva regarded Tony speculatively for a moment. “So?”
Tony looked at Ziva guardedly, wariness shining bright in his eyes. “So what?”
“Describe yourself in thee words.”
Tony looked at Ziva for a long minute, his cautious gaze just heavy enough for the Mossad Officer to break the stare first and begin to fidget. Only the loud sound of the elevator arriving with a ping broke Tony out of his contemplative reverie, and he stepped into the elevator, holding the door out for Ziva, one strong hand resting over them. With one precise tap, he hit the button for autopsy before turning to his partner and treating her to a crocodile smile, showing too many teeth.
“Three words, huh, Ziva?” Tony drawled, reverting back to his usual playful personality. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and in a much-practiced move, slid them onto his face smoothly, a la James Bond. “Well, that’s easy- Special. Agent. DiNozzo.”
Ziva looked uncertain. “What can you tell from that?”
Tony laughed and threw friendly arm around her shoulders, tugging her out of the elevator and propelling her towards Abby’s lab. “Nothing, Ziva, nothing at all. Now, you get to visit Aunt Abby while I go to visit the Duckman and get autopsy results. Buh-bye.”
Tony breezed into Autopsy, grinning as Jimmy Palmer scuttled out passed him.
“Hey, Ducky, can I bother you for those results?” Tony called out, flashing the doctor a brilliant smile as he looked up.
Ducky rose to his feet, moving towards Tony, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “On one condition, my dear boy.”
Tony groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna ask that question.”
“Of course I am! It’s quite fascinating, really, what one can-“
“Duck,” Tony interrupted. “if I answer, can I have the report?”
“Yes, of course,”
“Okay. Hmmm… Italian. Cop. And, uh, street-smart.” He smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked away from Ducky’s assessing gaze and leant forward to grab the report, hightailing it out of there.
“Thanks, Ducky!” He called back.
“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called, coming around the corner into the bullpen, ever-present coffee in his hand.
Tony looked up from his computer screen and smiled. “What’s up, Boss?”
"I have a question.”
Tony groaned, long and loud. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to ask the three words thing?”
Gibbs scowled. “I don’t need to. The three words would be smart-ass, playboy and inefficient. Now where the hell is that report?”
“Coming up, Boss.”
Tony heaved himself up off the small, uncomfortable couch, sparing a glance at his watch.
“Well, that’s all we have time for today, Tony.” His psychiatrist said, right on time. She smiled encouragingly. “I think we made a lot of progress. I’ll see you next week?”
“Sure,” Tony said brightly. He smiled, then sauntered to the door lazily, shrugging on his jacket.
“Oh, Tony, one last thing,” She called after him, stopping him at the door. The tall man cursed quietly to himself before swiveling slowly to face the pretty woman looking at him expectantly. He pasted a carefree smile on his face.
“What’s up, Doc?” He drawled, smile still steadfastly in place.
The psychiatrist flushed prettily and smiled back sweetly. “I’m sure you’ve heard the, well, survey I guess- the three word one? I find it fascinating. I’ve asked all my patients. So, can you please describe yourself in three words?”
Tony paused, deliberating, and the red-head in front of him faltered as a thousand dark expressions flitted across Tony’s normally happy face. The smile slowly began to melt away, leaving a coldly indifferent expression that strangely suited the Italian.
“Well,” He said slowly, coldly, apathetically. “That’s easy.”
The woman felt the soft hair on the back of her neck prickle as she truly realized for the first time just how dangerous this man could be when he wanted. “O-oh?” She finally stuttered. “Then what are they?”
Tony smiled; “Fighter. Survivor.” He paused. “Liar.”
He stepped back and closed the door on the slight woman’s stunned, almost hurt expression with an unhealthy measure of savage glee.