NCIS Mini Stories

BY : fareys_delight
Category: M through R > NCIS
Dragon prints: 11673
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: Rest and Sleep 1

Fandom: NCIS

Characters/Pairing: Gibbs, McGee

Word Count: 606

For: Shadowfaire on ao3

Warnings: Nothing

AN: So I’m getting back to these requests and I am open to them. If, during this time of posting, you do not see your request, know that I did lose several requests. Not because I meant to but because Cats.

 

If you don’t have cats, I can’t tell you how many pieces of paper I’ve lost since I got these brats.

 

Anyways! Enjoy!

 

*~*~*~*

 

Pulling open his door, McGee squinted at Gibbs before pulling it open with wide eyes. He was able to rasp out “What are you doing here, boss?” before wincing and rubbing at his throat as it protested useage.

 

“Came ta see ya. Your doc sent your note to Vance and he made sure I had it along with your request to get your hard copies of files,” Gibbs said, nodding to the dolly that held the file boxes that he had grabbed. They weren’t very big but they were heavy with heavy duty paper. McGee waved him in with a wince as his throat twinged again, the scent of medicinal rub and eucalyptus filling the apartment. 

 

Gibbs rolled the dolly into the apartment, taking in the setup with a raised eyebrow. The kitchen was cut off from the rest of the apartment by two well built shelves that looked handmade. One shelf held books and little knicknacks. On that side of the shelves, there was a small couch, more of a loveseat than anything, and a TV with DVD player and a couple of gaming systems that had been pulled out. The seat looked long enough to hold McGee without an issue. 

 

On the shelve towards the kitchen, pots, pans and various dishes sat. There were also various snack foods and a medicine box that McGee was digging around in, pulling out a pack of lozenges for his throat. “Where do you want these?” Gibbs asked, McGee pointing to a desk with a bigger set up, his work pulled up on two of the three screens, a music player open on the third and showing a list of soft Jazz.

 

Gibbs put the boxes down and looked at what McGee was working on. He raised an eyebrow at the screen, finding that he was filling in some details on some of his reports. 

 

“Working on getting those details down from your notes?” he asked, McGee nodding, twisting one of the lozenges in his mouth.

 

No voice, he signed. Doc not allowed speak. Gibbs smirked at him. 

 

“Your signing is getting better,” he said. McGee spelled out Tony in answer before he nodded to the files. 

 

Lawyers want details. Going to court. Gibbs hummed.

 

“You been eating?” he asked, getting a ‘when I can’ answer in return. “Living off of broth and soup?” he asked, noting the cans that had been washed and set out to dry so as to not attract bugs. Looking at the cans, he grunted. “At least it’s not unhealthy stuff.”

 

McGee rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone and started to tap out a message, using his Text to Speech program to read it aloud for him as he took a seat at the desk. “I am not allowed to stand for very long right now. So I can’t make my usual soup,” the phone said. 

 

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. “Alright. Tell me what to do with this soup of yours,” he said. McGee shook his head and pointed to where his lamented recipe card box sat. Gibbs picked it down and found the soup that made twice the amount of broth that one would need for those who couldn’t swallow. He chuckled at the translations for the amount of each ingredient was along with the “pinch of this” and “Pinch of that”. McGees grandmother had seemed like a smart woman. 

 

McGee turned back to his computer, the sounds of soft jazz and the tapping of his keyboard filled the apartment along with Gibbs pulling out the two huge pots for the soup and prepping the ingredients for it. 

 



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