Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: NCIS/Stargate SG-1 crossover
Pairing: DiNozzo, OFC, friendship only
Categories: Friendship, Drama
Feedback: Love it? Hate it? Want to offer me a book deal to write original fiction? Email me! Disclaimer: I don’t own the recognizable characters I’m just inspired by them. Hopefully they’ve had fun playing in my sandbox.
Summary: Tony meets a hot shot Navy pilot, and finds a friend. Through their adventures they meet General Jack O’Neill who makes her the offer of a lifetime. DiNozzo/OFC friendship Stargate SG-1 Crossover
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He walked in and saw basketball on the big screen and grinned. It was a good sign. There were a couple of small groups of people in the bar and the regular crowd on their normal stools.
He climbed up on a stool and ordered a beer and food and sat there enjoying the game and trying not to think too much. The past few weeks had been miserable. The fiasco with Jeanne still a raw bleeding wound on his heart. He just wanted a night to kick back and relax, and maybe forget for a while.
There was a group of eight playing pool, seven men and a woman. They were all very clean cut, and he could see dog tags hanging on most of their necks. They were having a good time, laughing and horsing around.
The woman with them caught his eye, a well built redhead with wild little curls flying in all directions she was cute. Not beautiful, but pretty and definitely cute. She was shooting pool and as she lined up her shot she looked up and met Tony’s eyes and smiled, then gave him a little wink and took her shot, efficiently sinking the eight ball. Tony immediately reassessed, she was beautiful when she smiled.
He watched the group for a while longer, enjoying their camaraderie and teasing. He almost spewed his beer on several occasions as the teasing turned sexual. There seemed to be a lot of comments being made about “stick handling” and somehow he didn’t think they were talking about pool cues. The redhead gave as good as she got, and on several occasions elicited howling laughter from the men. She was a hot ticket, no question.
She went over to the jukebox and dropped in some coins and was reading over selections when Tony noticed the thin ball chain on the back of her craned neck, she was military. But what branch he wondered, and what did she do that gave her such confidence?
Tony ate his burger and half-heartedly watched the game, but he his attention kept getting diverted over to her group.
One of her songs started playing and she was making some exaggerated rock and roll dance steps trying to get one of her buddies to dance with her. Buddies, Tony had decided after watching all of the for short time, there was obviously nothing going between her and any of the men she was with, they probably all served together and were just out for a night on the town.
He noticed that one blond haired man in her group was giving her odd looks when none of the others were looking. Tony had a hard time deciding if the man was interested in her or hated her. The looks he was throwing her went the full spectrum.
He turned his attention back to the game on television and ate his burger. He felt eyes on him though and wiping his mouth with a napkin he turned to see her watching him and she smiled again as their eyes met. But oddly, Tony realized, it wasn’t a come-on smile, it was just warm and friendly. He returned it and raised his glass to her.
His team scored and he found himself engrossed in the game again. He somehow wasn’t surprised a while later when a teasing voice beside him said, “They’re never going to win you know.”
Tony turned to see a pair of blue eyes twinkling with amusement, “You never know, they might get lucky.”
She climbed on the stool next to him, “Nobody’s that lucky.”
Tony knew this game, knew exactly what lines needed to be said next, the classic pickup approach ingrained in his brain. “Can never tell who’s going to get lucky.”
She reached over and stole a French fry from his basket and teased further, “Somehow I don’t see that as your biggest problem in life.”
He dipped another fry in some ketchup and fed it to her, “Yours either I bet.”
She chewed and licked the ketchup off her bottom lip, something that normally would have been a total turn on, but they were just playing and they both knew it. They just looked at each other for a moment and both of them laughed. And Tony had to admit, it felt good to laugh.
She extended her hand and introduced herself, “Isabel West.”
He shook it, noting the strong confident way that she did it and he was intrigued by her, “Tony DiNozzo. Can I buy you a drink, Isabel?”
She giggled, “I’d like that, Tony, but to warn you it will be boring.”
He waved to the bartender and teased her, “Somehow I doubt that you would ever be boring.”
She stole another fry and threw back at him, “Oh not me, but my drink will be.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow as the bartender reached them, “I’ll have another beer and the lady will have…”
She grinned, “Virgin Madras please. Extra fruit.”
The bartender nodded and went off to get them their drinks, and she explained to Tony, “I don’t drink before I fly.”
He nodded as the bartender put their drinks down. One of her buddies shouted from the pool table, “Yo, Tink, you’re up.”
She rolled her eyes and waved him off and caught Tony’s amused expression, “Tink?”
“My call sign, you know Isabel, Tinkerbell. But its Tink to my friends.”
Tony stood and stretched across the bar to snag more napkins, his shirt riding up a bit and she caught sight of his badge clipped to his belt. “Are you a pilot?”
She teased, “Yeah. Just don’t let any of them tell you different.” She pointed a thumb back at her buddies.
“So what about you?”
“Federal agent. I work for NCIS.”
“I didn’t do it, and you can’t prove a thing.” She just didn’t stop with the flirting and teasing and Tony somehow sensed that this was just who she was, and she reminded him of himself in a scary, surreal sort of way.
They talked and laughed through two more drinks and Tony was really enjoying her company. She managed to drag him off to dance and then she introduced him to her buddies. He found out that the group was comprised of fighter pilots and their RIO’s. He was shocked, she hadn’t said anything about being a fighter pilot, and he had assumed she was some sort of cargo jockey.
Tony fit in well with them; it really wasn’t all that much different than a fraternity. They were loud and bragging and trying to impress the girls in the bar. He found out that the blond haired man was Isabel’s RIO, Wayne Cranson. The man set off creep warnings in Tony, there was just something not quite right about him.
Isabel dragged Tony back off to dance again and when the song switched to a power ballad she took his hand and said quietly, “Wanna get out of here?”
His beer had made him feel loose, and her company made him feel light, and because it just felt good to feel again he nodded and let her lead him out of the bar with nothing but a little wave to her buddies.
He let her drive his car, being the completely sober one. And they ended up at his apartment. They went inside and hit the remote control for the stereo, filling the room with soothing sounds of Sinatra’s deep voice.
Neither of them spoke as he pulled her in to dance tight against him. And the first kiss they shared was soft and gentle like the music, and things were progressing nicely until the cd changed and the haunting sound of R.E.M. filtered out of the speakers. Tony just froze, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.
He felt her hands gently cup his cheeks and she asked quietly, “How long?”
He bit back the lump in his throat and replied, “Almost three weeks.”
She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs then placed her hand over his heart, “You don’t even have a scab over that hole here yet.”
He opened his eyes and saw nothing but compassion in them, no pity, no irritation, just understanding. He shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? C’mere.” She pulled him into a tight hug and when she felt his arms tighten around her she planted a kiss in his hair and said, “It gets better, I promise.”
It was what he needed to hear and somehow it lead to them ending up on the couch watching a James Bond mini-marathon and eating a half-gallon of ice cream right out of the carton instead of in his bed making love. And when they woke up in the morning spooned together on the couch it wasn’t awkward it just felt comfortable and right. Like something they had been doing for years.
As they had coffee she regarded him with an inquisitive eye and asked, “Do you have plans today?”
“Good. You’re mine today.”
Chapter List for That's Miss Top Gun To You