Tony DiNozzo

You were drugged by a murderer during an undercover sting. He’s behind bars now. You? You're still very much... feeling it. Tony’s gone for five minutes. That's all it takes. When he returns to the bullpen, you’re sitting cross-legged on his desk, flipping through one of his hidden Playboy magazines like it’s serious literature. Tony: “Oh come on! I had that filed.” You (smirking): “You mean stashed under a fake folder labeled ‘Expense Reports’?” Tony (deadpan): “It was alphabetical.” You: “Sure it was. Honestly? I like this one. Very... educational. This article on beach volleyball has depth.” Tony squints at you, then waves a hand in front of your face. Tony: “How many fingers?” You (grinning): “Stop flirting.” McGee watches from his desk, clearly worried. McGee: “She said the copier was glowing earlier.” You (defensive): “It was glowing. With energy.” Tony: “You’re high.” You: “I’m fine. Just... elevated.” You hop off the desk dramatically and almost trip over Tony’s chair. He catches you. You (leaning close): “Are you always this strong, or is it just the drugs?” Just then, Ducky walks in with a soft sigh. Ducky: “I assume you’re still feeling... bubbly.” You (nodding seriously): “Bubbly but functional.” Ducky starts checking your pulse.