NCIS Mini Stories

BY : fareys_delight
Category: M through R > NCIS
Dragon prints: 11675
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, make any money off of this story. I do not own NCIS or the Avengers. I do not own in anyway any person that is in this story.

Title: Kitty, Kitty

Fandom: NCIS

Chapter: 1

Characters: Tony/Gibbs, McGee

Word Count: 1,267

Warnings: nothing

AN: Here! Have fluff! It’s only a couple chapters long. I really need to finish off some mini’s and hoping to do that this coming week.

 

Also…who can catch what I named the kitty from?

 

*~*~*~*

 

McGee stared at his friend as Tony and Gibbs stared at the black fluff ball that was purring at him. “I...didn’t know you had a cat,” Tony finally said.

 

“That’s because I lint roll and keep most of my works clothes in bags to keep him away from them,” McGee said, shaking his head and giving his cat a quick scritch behind his ears. “Look, I called you over to ask something of you,” he said, sitting down on his couch with his beer, Tony taking his computer desk seat.

 

“What about?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer, having caught a ride from Gibbs since they were together anyways and McGee has asked for both of them.

 

“You know all about Jethro, right? The dog,” he started, watching Gibbs have a stare down with his cat before Binx simply purred louder, going full loaf mode.

 

“Yes,” Gibbs said, looking away from Binx with a raised eyebrow. McGee sighed and took another swig of his beer.

 

“Well, I tried to introduce Binx to Jethro, and while Binx here just wanted to give him a bath, Jethro’s reaction wasn’t quite  as nice,” McGee sighed. “If Binx wasn’t so young and able to run faster than him, I don’t know what would have happened. Apparently his last trainer didn’t want it on his file that he’s, mostly, cat unfriendly. He’s good as long as it’s a cat smell that he’s used to or has to put up with. Any other cat though is a big nono,” he said.

 

Gibbs frowned. “Was the dog better while on the job?” he asked, McGee nodding his head.

 

“Yeah, his trainer had a firm hold on him, so to speak,” he said, rubbing at his face. “But I don’t know the commands that he has for the cat’s and they’re still going through his information to figure that out.”

 

“Abby pushing you take him?” Tony asked, McGee sighing and slumping, nodding his head. “Why you?”

 

“Because she can push me into doing anything if she whines enough. I hate whining and she knows it,” McGee sighed. “There’s a reason why we broke up and it wasn’t because she felt that we weren’t a good match. I just don’t spread around my relationship information,” he said. He shook his head. “Yeah, off track. I need to have Binx taken cared of while I’m fostering Jethro. Since you both refuse to take him, I’m stuck taking him in because Abby wants me to. He should be homed with a trainer instead of me while they recondition him to be a civilian pet.”

 

“Why isn’t he?” Tony asked, frowning. McGee just gave him a look.

 

“Abby, in all of her wisdom, had decided that they obviously don’t know what to do with a poor puppy. Never mind that ‘poor puppy’ is a fully trained drug and attack dog,” McGee said. “So while they figure out where to stick him and how to train him as a civie dog, I’m stuck with a dog that I don’t really want, that I fear for a very good reason, and with a ruined eight hundred dollar leather coat.”

 

“She said you could fix it,” Gibbs said, frowning. McGee snorted and reached out, grabbing his coat and showing the giant hole that was missing from the elbow of his jacket.

 

“Nope. If it had been small, and the spot should have been small, it would have been easily fixed. I talked to my person and he was horrified.” McGee shifted. “I filed a report against her for destruction of property since she did it because I shot an attacking dog.”

 

Tony and Gibbs shared a look before Gibbs groaned. “I’ll deal with her on Monday,” he finally decided, reaching out to give Binx a quick scratch behind his ears. “So, you want us to take Binx?” he asked.

 

McGee sighed. “Despite how he looks, he’s about four years old. He’s the runt of his litter and was born at the local shelter. His first owner damn near killed him by not feeding him the proper cat food. He was dropped off by the woman’s daughter when he was just over two years. I’ve had him for the last year and I don’t want him to go to someone who won’t treat him right. And he likes you,” he said, pointing to the way that Binx had become a motor under Gibbs’ hands. “I really do not want to send him back to the shelter.”

 

Tony gave Gibbs a look before rocking back and forth in the chair. “So why call both of us?” he asked.

 

McGee gave him a small smile. “Despite what others may think, we both know that you’re with Gibbs and all those girls that you go out are girls who are hiding their real desires from their family for various reasons. Or really close, old friends,” he said. “I’m not blind nor am I that oblivious,” he continued. The younger male shrugged. “I really need you guys to just watch over Binx. And if he bonds with the two of you, I’ll go get another cat, but until I can get rid of Jethro officially in six months, I can’t have him here.”

 

Tony sighed and looked at Gibbs. “We could do it. It’s not like some of your neighbors won’t be willing to come make sure that he’s cared for if we can’t get away,” he said. Gibbs sighed.

 

“How is he with new people?” he asked McGee.

 

“He’s good. Usually offstandish like any cat the first couple of times but I’m thinking that I come with your scents lingering around me all the time that he’s used to you two without ever meeting you,” he told them, looking at Binx with a small smile. Tony hummed, resting his hands on top of his head, watching the younger male as the black cat jumped down and padded over to him. McGee put his bottle of beer aside and bent over to pick him up.

 

He turned to look at his lover and raised an eyebrow, the two holding an entire conversation between them. Gibbs finally sighed and rubbed at his face. “Fine. We’ll take the cat but if you can take him back, you are,” he said, looking at Binx with narrowed eyes. “He need anything?” he asked.

 

McGee smiled and nodded, standing and leading the two men into the kitchen where he put Binx down onto a table cat tree. “He likes to watch you cook,” he told them. “I’ll be sending the cat trees for you. This way he stays off of the counters in the kitchen.” Squatting down to a cabinet, he pulled out a tub of dry cat food and a smaller tub with doubles wet cat food. “He has a kind of a specialized diet to follow because of his history. He gets these smaller cat foods once a day about seven and I have a feeder bowl for his food dish. And a fountain for his water. I leave it in here so that it’s out of the way and I can fill it every day at the least,” he told them.

 

McGee unplugged the fountain and poured it out before pulling out a filter pitcher with ‘cat’ written on the side of it. He worked his way through everything that Binx could and couldn’t have diet wise and toy wise as he packed everything up, handing it over to the two along with said cat in his travel carrier that held his favorite blanket and kitty toy.

 



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