Maggie jerked her head up from staring at her screen and looked at the elevator. She broke into a huge grin, got up and crossed the room to stand by the elevator doors.
“What’s up with her?” McGee asked.
“Beats me,” Noah answered. “I stopped trying to figure her out years ago.” Everyone chuckled. Maggie could sometimes be unpredictable.
“It’s almost lunchtime, so I’m going to take off early,” she said, still waiting for the elevator.
“Says who, Sullivan?” Gibbs interjected.
“Oh come on, Gibbs…” she begged. “We’ve wrapped everything up on that last investigation and…”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t go, Maggie,” he said grinning. “It’s a joke.”
About that time the elevator opened and two young (looking), extremely hot men stepped off, grinning from ear to ear. The first one, tall with dark hair and eyes, grabbed Maggie around the waist and swung her around about six times. Maggie threw her head back and laughed out loud, dropping a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“Jaime, I’ve missed you!” she said as they other man pulled her into his arms.
“What am I, chopped liver?” he asked. He had shocking red hair and a thick Irish accent. Maggie laughed, kissing his cheek.
“You are a sight for sore eyes, is what you are, Morgan,” she answered, her accent automatically thickening. “Want to meet everyone, or just go to lunch?” she asked.
“Lunch,” they said in unison. She laughed again, as they stepped onto the elevator to leave without saying a word.
Noah laughed to himself. He had met Jaime before and had heard of Morgan. He could tell from the thoughts spinning around the room that everyone was speculating; and most minds were in the gutter. He remembered the first time he met Jaime. He had assumed the same thing, picked a fight, and got his rear end handed to him. He had expected to have no trouble, but apparently Jaime was one of the strongest warriors among the werewolves. He had been so jealous of his close relationship to Maggie, that he hadn’t thought things through. He had been stupid. He was too old to make mistakes like that. He shook his head.
Gibbs’ mind flashed to the photographs on Maggie’s wall. He recognized both men from the photos, and remembered that the redhead was one of her brothers. He also recognized the dark haired man from photos, but knew Maggie hadn’t mentioned her relationship to him; which meant he probably wasn’t family. He knew Maggie, although sweet, was not exactly innocent. The dark haired man was probably a lover. His mind immediately went to a vision of the handsome man in bed with Maggie, doing things to her that he had been dreaming of since he had first laid eyes on her. Darn it! He smacked himself on the back of the head. ‘Snap out of it!’ he told himself. He had finally been able to get her out of his mind, and now this.
Ziva walked into forensics and stopped dead in her tracks. Abby and McGee were standing with their backs to her, moving their necks to the side in a very bizarre sort of dance. The music blaring was not exactly something Abby would normally have been listening to. “Umm… hello?” she asked, getting their attention.
“Oh, Ziva, come here,” Abby said, rushing to grab the Israeli by the arm. “Do this with us,” she instructed, showing her how to move her head.
“Can I ask why?” Ziva asked.
“Because it’s fun,” Abby answered simply. “Tony made us watch this retarded movie the other night, and now I’m totally obsessed with this song!” she explained. Tony walked in to see all three of the others doing the crazy head dance together. He laughed.
“You’re listening to Haddaway, Abs?” he asked. “I thought you hated ‘Night at the Roxbury’?”
“Oh, I did, Tony,” she answered. “That’s an hour and a half of our lives that Timmy and I will never get back. But this song is so fun!!”
Tony laughed again, joining in and singing, “O-oh-o-oh-o-oh-oh-oh-oh! What is love? Baby don’t hurt me… don’t hurt me… no more.”
“I’ve entered the Twilight Zone,” Gibbs said, walking in on the scene.
“Gibbs! Come dance with us!” Abby begged as the others immediately stopped dancing and starting acting like they had a reason to be there.
“I don’t think so, Abs,” he answered, shaking his head at them and chuckling.
“What did you need?” she asked, smiling big.
“Just checking to see how you were keeping yourself busy down here,” Gibbs answered. “I’m certainly glad I pushed for that raise,” he said sarcastically.
“Awww, Gibbs!” Abby protested. “You know how hard I work when we have a case, but I thought since…”
“Joking, Abby,” he interjected. “Have you seen Diamond?” he asked.
“He went to the gym for lunch,” Ziva answered, automatically. Abby gave her a knowing look.
“Thanks,” Gibbs said, leaving as quickly as he had come in.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Maggie asked her lunch guests, grateful that she had put a huge roast into the crock-pot before she left for work. Feeding three werewolves could be quite an undertaking.
“And spoil the surprise?” Morgan rejected the idea.
“So, do you need me the beat the heck out of Noah again?” Jaime asked, a wistful expression on his gorgeous face. Maggie hit him in the arm. Hard.
“No, moron,” she said. “I didn’t need you to beat him up the first time, if you recall.”
Jaime laughed at the memory. “He was so territorial. Is he still into you?”
Maggie shook her head, “Nope.”
“What, my sister isn’t good enough for him anymore?” Morgan asked as if offended. Maggie laughed.
“If not him, who?” Jaime asked.
“Who what, Mr. Articulate?” Maggie asked, rolling her eyes. Here goes nothing.
“Who’s the special someone?” Jaime asked. “And don’t say ‘no one’. We have the right to know, and you have the right to spill any and all information right now.”
“I beg your pardon,” Maggie responded. “You have the right to recognize that this is my house, I’m a grown woman and capable of taking care of myself.” The guys shook their heads at one another as if in disagreement.
“Remember Logan,” Morgan began.
“How did I know you would bring that up,” Maggie interrupted. “That was over fifty years ago!”
“And you said you were a grown woman capable of taking care of yourself,” Jaime said, mimicking her voice. They laughed.
“I’m seriously not with anyone,” Maggie answered. They could hear the truth to her words.
“What’s wrong with the men around here,” Jaime asked seriously. “You’re the perfect woman.”
“Here, here!” Morgan said, raising his beer to Jaime.
“I’m perfect? Perfectly happy, is what I am,” Maggie replied, this time not so truthfully. Her eyes showed a hint of her recent disappointment.
“What’s his name?” Jaime asked, his expression darkening.
Maggie sighed, “What are you talking about?”
“Whoever made you feel that, I wanna break him,” he said seriously. “Someone hurt you. I know it. I can tell. You just give me his name…”
“Shut up, Jaime!” Maggie said. “No one has done anything to hurt me, okay,” she insisted. “There’s a guy I sort of like… want… whatever…” she explained.
“And…” Jamie pulled more out of her.
“And he doesn’t feel the same way, that’s all,” she said as if it wasn’t that big a deal. "Now, coffee’s done; let me grab dessert." She made it apparent in her expression that she was finished discussing the subject.
“On the subject of romance, how is Annie?” she asked Morgan. His face broke into a huge smile.
“Perfect; she’s perfect,” he answered, “and with child again.”
“Your tenth?” she asked.
“That’s right,” he answered with pride. It was amazing how many children you could have when your child-bearing period was over 400 years.
“That’s wonderful, Morgan,” she said with love in her eyes. “I can’t wait to get away for a few weeks. I miss Ireland and home; mom and dad…” her voice faded. “It is so nice to see you.” They visited for a few more moments, them filling her in on news from back home. After a bit, Maggie stood.
“I have to go back to work,” she said, heading toward the door. “There’s an Irish pub near there called Dirty Nellie’s. The owner’s from Dublin. I’ll meet you there for drinks around 6:00?” she suggested as she rushed out the door to her car, happy to get away before they pulled more information out of her. She shook her head. Everyone had to be a tough guy. She wasn’t sure if it was the werewolf factor, or the Irish factor. She laughed to herself. Macho though they may be, she loved her family more than anything. She just didn’t trust what they might do with certain information. These guys gave new meaning to the word overprotective.
“Hey,” Noah said, grabbing Ziva from behind, spinning her around and kissing her. He’d learned a while ago to speak, and not sneak up on her. She packed a mean punch.
“Hello, handsome,” she replied after he released her.
“Whoa now,” Tony said, coming around the corner at just that moment. “You should be glad I wasn’t Gibbs or the Director.”
“They both know,” Noah said. “They don’t seem to care.”
“That is so weird,” Tony said. “I mean, Gibbs suddenly doesn’t have a problem with interoffice relationships? What is that about? He’s given McGeek and Abby his freakin’ seal of approval, and now he doesn’t have a problem with you?”
“Maybe he’s mellowing,” Ziva suggested. Tony gave her a look that questioned her intelligence.
“Gibbs does not mellow, Ziva,” he responded. “There has to be something else going on.”
“Maybe he wants us to learn our own lessons; make our own mistakes,” she suggested.
“I doubt that,” Tony said. “No, he’s waiting for his moment. Something’s going down,” he continued, still suspicious.
“I’m not planning anything, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, joining them. “No one listens to me anyway,” he added, smacking him on the back of the head. One half of his mouth turned up into a sideways smile. “I figure if they want each other badly enough to incur my wrath, they’re gonna do it anyway. What am I supposed to do, fire half my team?” he questioned, walking out of the hallway. The others automatically followed, heading back to their desks.
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