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Original December 2007.  Last modified March 15, 2009.  Written for Abby.  Please see the endnote for disclaimers, credits and all that good stuff.

Sopwith Pup
a NCIS fanfiction
G
by Amy R.




"How can you have never seen Peanuts?"  Tony almost toppled off his desk chair in surprise.  He had tilted it back a tad more than specifications allowed, angling for the vent from which he believed the breeze would come when they fixed the air conditioning.  If they ever fixed the air conditioning.  "Not knowing Snoopy is -- well, I was going to say 'un-American,' but--"

"That is not what I said, Tony," Ziva corrected him without looking up from her computer screen.  Her steady keyboard tapping showed her as unfazed by the sweltering heat as by his antics.  "Of course I am familiar with Peanuts.  It is the most popular comic strip in the world.  When I was a child--  In any case, just because I have not seen your cartoon does not mean I--"

"When you were a child, what?"  Tony leveled out his chair and perked up, staring brightly across the aisle at her.  If anything was more classified than the contents of the vice president's man-sized safe, it was Ziva's personal life.

"You're just wrong anyway, Tony," McGee said, sweating in his suit jacket; Tony had taken his off hours ago.  McGee got up to fetch a sheet from the color printer.  "Everyone knows that the Halloween special is best.  You just favor the Christmas one today because you've got delusions of snowflakes dancing through your head."

"Mmmmm, snowflakes."  Tony's eyeballs rolled back at the delicious thought.  The power of imagination would bring him snow and ice on the smooth cool breeze of Vince Guaraldi's jazz score.  Instead, sweat ran down his forehead and dripped off an eyelash.  He opened his eyes.  Stupid heat wave.  Stupider air conditioner.  "No, seriously, I see your point about the Great Pumpkin as a metaphor for tolerance, but have you considered Snoopy's decorated doghouse as a metaphor for consumerism?"

"I keep telling you: a metaphor is a comparison or a symbol."  McGee returned to his desk.  "When something just is what it is, it's not a metaphor."

"Your proofreader tell you that, probie?"

Ziva's typing stilled.  Either she'd finished her report, or it was closer to lunchtime than Tony had thought.  "Is not a television cartoon somewhat below your usual requirements as a film aficionado?"

"Are you questioning the coolness of Snoopy?"  Tony strove to sound appalled rather than amused.  "Of Joe Cool himself?"

Abby walked over from the elevator, keeping a hand-held electric fan in front of her face all the way.  "Who's questioning Snoopy?"

"Tony believes that the Christmas Peanuts special is superior to its Halloween counterpart," Ziva informed her.

"Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown is really, really good, but everyone knows It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is best."  Abby frowned at Tony, then swung back to Ziva.  "Hey, have you seen them?  Oh, my goodness!  Do you want to borrow the DVDs?"

"Well of course you like the Halloween one best."  Tony stood when the center of attention threatened to drift away from him.  He realized his mistake as Abby turned back toward him and the air from her fan turned away.

"Me?  Why me?"

"No reason."  Tony narrowed his eyes and did not mention the skulls on her pigtail holders.  "But have you really considered the speech Linus gives when Charlie Brown asks whether anyone knows what Christmas is all about?  And the World War I Flying Ace, down behind enemy lines?  Can't you just see Snoopy's doghouse taxiing across a flight deck on its way to destiny?"

"The World War I Flying Ace is in the Halloween special, not the Christmas special."  McGee was twiddling with a screwdriver, a flash drive and a thingamajig Tony didn't recognize.

"No!  Really?  Ow!"  Tony reached up to rub the back of his head as Gibbs came around from the stairs.  Gibbs had taken off his jacket in the heat, too, but he was carrying it over one arm and holding paperwork in the other hand.  "What was that for, boss?"

"They had seaplane tenders during World War I, not aircraft carriers.  And the Sopwith Camel was an Army plane.  Sopwith Pup was Navy."

"Are you saying Snoopy is Army?"

"I'm saying you don't always know what you think you know."  Gibbs slapped a manila folder on McGee's desk, handed another to Abby and put on his jacket.  "Commissioned Warrant Officer Eddie Hombert, 43.  Missing for two weeks.  On Ducky's agenda now.  DiNozzo, David, you're with me.  McGee, Abby--"

"On it, boss."

"I'll be in my lab."

"I will drive."

"No you won't!"

In the elevator Tony looked skeptically at Gibbs, not entirely trusting his boss to know better than to give Ziva keys outside a controlled raceway with professional stunt drivers, or possibly a Mad Max sequel.  Gibbs was unreadable on the subject of keys.  But Gibbs was clearly not going to tell them anything more about the case right now.  So Tony concentrated on the thought that whoever drove, at least the car would have air conditioning.

Two floor-beeps down, he remembered.  "Hey, Ziva?"

"Yes, Tony?"

"You were gonna say something about Peanuts and when you were a kid."

"No.  I was not."

"Yeah, you were."

Ziva looked at the elevator ceiling, then at Gibbs, who had his eyes on the dropping floor numbers.  She looked back at Tony.  With one floor left before the door opened at the parking garage, she said, "When I was a small child, I had a stuffed Woodstock.  My brother had a stuffed Snoopy."

Tony stared.

Stepping into the parking garage, Gibbs clicked the remote.  A car beeped back at him.  "And DiNozzo? Everyone knows the Great Pumpkin is the best."

      

-End-

     

 


Endnote



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