the_no_name_system | Entries tagged with pairing: mcgee/torres

Title: "Come Here. Let Me Fix It."
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: G
Pairing: Timothy McGee/Nick Torres
Warnings: None

Disclaimer: NCIS and the characters herein are owned by CBS. This is a non-for-profit, personal use of their setting and characters.

McGee growled as he struggled with the impossible piece of fabric around his neck. Torres turned to look at him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's this stupid bow tie!" McGee exclaimed. "I can't get it on right! It's always crooked, or drooping, or..."

"Come here. Let me fix it," Torres said, gesturing McGee over with his hands.

McGee rolled his eyes and walked over, head tilted up as Torres wrestled with the tie for him. "There we go," Torres said after a minute.

Looking into the mirror in front of them, McGee begrudgingly admitted that Nick did a better job with the bow tie than he could ever do himself. "Thanks. I don't know how Ducky handles these things everyday," McGee grumbled.

Torres laughed. "Surely you've had to wear a bow tie before?" he asked.

"Yeah, but someone else always has to help me with it," McGee sighed. "I can never do it on my own, and it sucks."

Torres just smirked, and said nothing.

"What?" McGee asked.

Torres shrugged. "It's nothing."

"What is it?" McGee pressed. "You don't smirk over nothing."

"It's just...kinda cute, you needing help with that. I can see the ladies loving getting to fix your bow tie before you walk in somewhere important," Torres said.

McGee brought a hand up to the bow tie in thought. "You think?"

"If they like doing it with regular ties, then they love doing it with bow ties. Bow ties are only for special occasions," Torres said knowingly.

"Ducky wears one every day," McGee challenged.

"Ducky is the exception, not the rule," Torres replied. "And besides, to him, every day has a special occasion. He's an infuriating optimist like that."

McGee laughed, because it was true, and absolutely something that Torres would see as infuriating. "Don't tell me you don't like optimists?" he asked.

"Not really," Torres said, wrinkling his nose. "In small doses it's okay, but if someone is always optimistic it drives me nuts."

"How do you stand Bishop then?" McGee asked.

"In small doses," Torres said simply.

McGee laughed at that response. "What is it with you and having deadpan answers?"

"Maybe I'm just that funny," Torres said, smirking.

McGee rolled his eyes. "Yeah, somehow, I doubt that."

Torres mocked offense and shoved McGee, who shoved right back. They undoubtedly would have wound up in a wrestling match on the floor had Gibbs not come in and barked, "McGee! Torres! Get out here and get your earwigs in!"

"Yes, boss!" the two said, walking out of the changing room they had been using.

Bishop looked them over and whistled. "You both clean up nice," she said appreciatively.

"Who cleans up better, though?" Torres asked, cocky grin firmly in place.

Bishop looked between the two and grinned. "Actually, Nick, I think McGee cleans up better."

McGee laughed and Torres held a hand to his chest. "I had to fix his bow tie for him! Doesn't that take away the appeal?"

Bishop shrugged. Nick growled. McGee just laughed.

Title: "No, No, It's My Treat."
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: G
Pairing: Timothy McGee/Nick Torres
Warnings: None

Disclaimer: NCIS and the characters herein are owned by CBS. This is a non-for-profit, personal use of their setting and characters.

"Mm, that was good," Torres said around the last bites of his burger for lunch. "How much do I owe you?" he asked McGee.

"Hm? Oh, no, no, it's my treat," McGee said, sipping at his soda.

"Come on, man. This place isn't exactly McDonald's," Torres said.

"Yeah, but it's not a five-star restaurant either," McGee shot back. "It's fifteen bucks. That won't kill me. And you can pick up the tab next time if you feel so bad about it."

"You have to promise me you'll let me pick up the next tab if you pick up this one," Torres said, pointing. "Because you've picked up the last three."

McGee laughed. "Well, I do make a little more than you, being SFA and all."

"Oh, is that how it's gonna be?" Torres asked with a laugh. "Showing off your money when the girls aren't around to call you out on it?"

McGee rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just saying that I can afford to go out more than most people, and because I drag you along to have someone to talk to, I'll make sure you don't have to worry about the cost."

"Oh," Torres said, considering this new information. "Well, I guess that's okay. But next time, I'm picking up the tab."

"Yeah, if you insist," McGee said, pulling out his wallet.

"It is nice to get away from the girls sometimes. Like, don't get me wrong, I love them to death, but they can be a bit..."

"...Enthusiastic?" McGee supplied, arching an eyebrow.

"Something like that," Torres agreed. "You're not like that most of the time. You're more laid back."

"Thanks, I think," McGee said, chuckling. He put the needed money on the table and stood, soda in hand. "Ready to get back to the enthusiasm?"

"Not quite yet," Torres groaned. "Don't you think that we could take the long way back?"

"Sure, if you want Gibbs to kill us," McGee said.

Torres groaned again as they got in McGee's car. "I could use a vacation," he grumbled. "This job is exhausting."

"Exhausting? Yeah. But also rewarding, don't you think?" McGee asked.

"Well, yeah," Torres reluctantly agreed. "It's nice to be able to stop the bad apples before they ruin the whole bunch. But working a desk is more tiring than being deep undercover for literal years."

McGee laughed. "I would argue it's the other way around. At least if you're riding a desk you can be yourself, right? You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not."

"I know. It's exhausting," Torres said with a shudder.

McGee put a hand on his shoulder. "You know you don't have to pretend to be anything you're not at the office, right?" he asked.

"Sure," Torres said, looking out the window at the road.

"I mean it, Torres. No one at the office would mind you being yourself, provided you're not, like, a completely irredeemable character," McGee said. "Just be yourself, for once."

"I'll try," Nick reluctantly agreed.

Title: "It Reminded Me of You."
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: G
Pairing: Timothy McGee/Nick Torres
Warnings: None

Disclaimer: NCIS and the characters herein are owned by CBS. This is a not-for-profit, personal use of their setting and characters.

McGee looked down at his desk, at the vintage typewriter on his desk, as well as the full ream of paper just waiting to be used, and he looked around the bullpen. "Whose typewriter is this?" he asked, brows furrowing. Bishop just shook her head in bewilderment. Quinn subtly pointed to Torres. McGee's frown deepened. "Nick?"

"As of today, yours," Torres said. "I was helping my sister clean out her attic. I saw this and it reminded me of you."

"So...you're giving it to me?" McGee asked.

"Well, my sister said she was going to just throw it out otherwise," Nick said with a shrug. "And I know you like that sort of...thing. Bishop told me about your typewriter at home."

"Yeah, for the record, I had no idea he would go out and get you something because of it," Bishop said, raising her hands in surrender. "This was all him."

McGee looked down in no small amount of wonder at the device in front of him. "The keys will need some getting used to," he said, scratching his head. "And it will probably need fresh ribbons, but this is really thoughtful. Thanks, Nick."

"Don't go getting sappy on me, now," Torres warned. "Whenever you use my first name you start getting sappy, and it's just embarrassing for everyone involved."

McGee laughed. "Fine. Thanks, Torres. Now do you have those reports I asked you to fill out yesterday?"

Torres didn't say anything and Quinn winced. "Ooh, sounds like someone was trying to butter McGee up because he forgot to finish his reports."

"That's not what this was," Torres said. "I was so busy helping my sister over the weekend that I forgot. I'll have them done by the end of the day."

"Yeah? You'd better. Gibbs will keel-haul both of us if you don't get your reports done," McGee warned.

"He wouldn't," Torres scoffed.

"He would," everyone in the bullpen responded in unison.

Torres looked around and swallowed. "Okay. I'll just...work on those reports, then."

"Thank you," McGee said, sitting down and feeding paper into the typewriter, to see if the ribbon needed to be replaced right away or not.

He didn't fail to notice Torres looking over, pleased. McGee inwardly rolled his eyes. Of course Torres would seem happy that McGee enjoyed his gift. He was probably patting himself on the back for thinking about doing that. His only consolation was that Torres did indeed seem to be working on reports, and Gibbs hadn't swooped in and taken Torres away from those reports yet.

At the end of the day, McGee had the paperwork Torres had done and everyone was going to go out for a drink. "Coming, McGee?" Torres asked.

"I'll pass," McGee said, looking at the typewriter on his desk with the one sentence that proved the ribbon was still working. "I have a new toy to get acquainted with tonight."

Torres grinned. "I'm glad you like it. I really did think of you."

"I know, Torres."

Title: "Pull Over. Let Me Drive For Awhile."
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: G
Pairing: Timothy McGee/Nick Torres
Warnings: None

Disclaimer: NCIS and the characters herein are owned by CBS. This is a not-for-profit, personal use of their setting and characters.

Torres was yawning as they drove down a side street just outside of DC. He and McGee were heading to relieve Bishop and Quinn of their duties at the stakeout. The only problem being it was past midnight, and Torres clearly hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. "Hey," McGee said softly. "Pull over. Let me drive for awhile."
Looking over, Torres laughed. "Cute, McGee, but I'd rather get to where we're going before sunrise."
"Torres, you're exhausted," McGee said. "The least I can do if we're going to be stuck with each other for twelve hours is let you catch a little shut-eye before we have to sit in an abandoned building for hours to see if anyone steals the bait."
"I still don't see why..." Torres yawned. "I still don't see why we had to have a whole bank of computers as bait when everything on them could be condensed to a flash drive."
"Because it's much easier to keep an eye on computers than a small flash drive," McGee said, looking Torres over. "Come on, let me drive."
Torres rolled his eyes and pulled over to the side of the curb, undoing his seat belt. "Fine," he groaned. "You mother hen. I'll crawl into the back and get some shut-eye."
McGee grinned victoriously and shifted over to the driver's seat once Torres had crawled into the back. He strapped in and kept driving, the sound of Torres snoring soon reaching his ears. McGee shook his head, yawning himself. He was exhausted, too, not that he'd let Torres know. No, Torres needed his sleep more than McGee did right now. It was fine. He would be just fine.
When they got to the building, McGee gently shook Torres awake and the two made their way inside. "Do you want first watch or should I take it?" McGee asked, knocking on the door to where Bishop and Quinn were situated.
"You're offering to take first watch while I sleep?" Torres scoffed, disbelief clear in his tone.
McGee shrugged noncommittally. "You seemed to need it. I can wake you up if there's any trouble."
"Sure you would," Torres said, this time layering his voice with heavy sarcasm.
"I'm serious, Torres. You need to sleep I can take first watch," McGee said, just as the door opened.
"Enjoy watching nothing happen all night," Bishop yawned. "I can't wait to go home and sleep."
"Seconded," Quinn mumbled, as she walked around Bishop and out the door. "I've been staring at nothing for the past twelve hours. I can't get home soon enough."
Torres grumbled, "Don't remind me," as they walked into the room and swapped information before Bishop also left.
"So. First shift. You or me?" McGee asked.
"You don't let things go, do you?" Torres groaned. "You take the first shift if you're so insistent on it."
"You're welcome," McGee said as he sat down by the monitors.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I love you too," Nick snarked, lying down to sleep.