A/N: Oneshot written for the NFA Who's Dreaming Now? Challenge. One of the requirements was to keep the dreamer concealed until the end of the story. It was inspired by my enjoyment of playing the piano. So enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS characters and the songs quoted in this story belong to the following: Enya, Jerry Herman (Dear World), Andrew Lloyd Webber (Cats), Carol Bayer Sager (They're Playing Our Song).

Things That Never Were
by Enthusiastic Fish

"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'"
George Bernard Shaw

He stumbled over the borders into the town. Dusty roads...tumbleweeds...and what looked like a ghost town. For a moment, it seemed very strange that he was here. It didn't make sense.

...but then, he heard the music...a piano, and he forgot that everything was really strange.

He didn't think about the strange fact that no one else seemed to be in the town except him...and the mysterious piano player.

He even forgot to wonder how he'd got there. He'd always been there.

He walked toward the music. Every so often, he seemed to hear something...a flash of loud noise that distracted him. It always seemed to come from beyond the borders of the town...but he never saw anything and whenever the sounds vanished, he forgot about them. He just wanted to get to the piano music.

A saloon.

That's where music would be in a town like this.

He hurried over to the swinging doors and stepped inside...

...and he was not in a saloon, but a night club.

There was a beautiful red grand piano set on a dais, lit by a spotlight.

There was a woman sitting at it in a white sparkly evening gown. He couldn't see her face, but he could now hear her voice as she played and sang.

He walked toward her, but suddenly was stopped.

"No fraternizing with the piano player...unless you feed the tip jar," a deep voice boomed.

"Tip jar?" he asked in surprise. He didn't see the speaker, but he knew that whoever had spoken was telling the truth.

And yes, there it was, on a little stand right beside the dais.

"Fling and I'll sing."

The music went on, but that was the piano player speaking.

He felt in his pockets and saw that he had a lot of money. Not just the one or two bills he usually carried, not even the single hundred that had been his security policy a few years before. No, this was a wad of bills. He peeled a few off, not bothering to look at the denomination and put them in the jar.

"Come forward."

He did and the piano player looked so familiar...and yet he couldn't have said why for the life of him. She smiled.

"Sit down. Any requests?"

He sat down on the piano bench.

"No," he found himself saying. "Surprise me."

There was a sudden burst of sound.

"Did you get the plate?"

"Is he all right?"

"Pupils are unequal and reactive."

He perked up and looked around...but the woman didn't react at all. The sounds faded away.

"Surprises can be dangerous," she said softly.

"I think I can handle it."

"Very well."

She hit a single chord, a minor key, and began to sing.

"When the evening falls
and the daylight is fading,
from within me calls.
Could it be I am sleeping?
For a moment I stray,
Then, it holds me completely...
Close to home, I cannot say.
Close to home, feeling so far away."

Her voice was strangely melancholy as she sang the verses. The tune throbbed in his head and seemed to draw him into another world. He closed his eyes and floated into the clouds. He opened his eyes and saw the stars glittering around him.

Then, the song ended and he was back on the piano bench.

"That was beautiful. What's your name?"

She just smiled and started to play again.

"You stood and looked at me
and I was beautiful,
for it was beautiful how you believed in me..."

Another song wrapped him in music and moved him into another place. This one was not familiar. He couldn't figure out where it was. A dark room, full of anxiety, fear...sadness.

...and the song ended.

"Do I know you? You seem so familiar."

She laughed softly.

"Midnight, not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone."

This song pulled him away from the piano to an empty alley in the rain. It looked very familiar and he couldn't think why he knew it. Another burst of sound.

"Come on...you must wake up..."

That wasn't the woman at the piano speaking. It had been a female voice, but it was a different voice.

The woman at the piano blurred. Her features changed for a moment, but then she was back, showing no distress at what had happened.

"Who was that?"

"What do you mean?"

He opened his mouth to explain, but then, he forgot what he'd been saying and he smiled.

"Can you play something else?" he asked.

She nodded.

"If you really knew me,
If you really, truly knew me,
Maybe you would see
The other side of me
I seldom see."

He enjoyed listening to her sing. He loved it. This place was perfect. He felt content. No reason to leave.

"Drink, sir?"

Another familiar female voice. He looked up and saw...

"Kate."

He looked at her. Wait. This was wrong. He stood up and looked around.

"Where am I?" he suddenly wondered.

Kate smiled. "It's a ghost town."

"He opened his eyes once, but he is nonresponsive."

"How's his breathing?"

"Irregular and shallow."

"Do you want to hear another song?"

He looked through the gloom and recognized other faces...all dead. Then, he looked more closely at the piano player. She smiled.

"Erin..."

A wind blew through the room, kicking up a sandstorm that swirled around him, hiding the other people in the room. He couldn't see anything...it all started to get darker...and darker...and colder...and colder...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He inhaled deeply, opening his eyes and looking around.

"Erin...Erin..."

"Whoa, McGee, calm down. Don't move so much."

He was trying to sit up, trying to see where he was...but all the hands kept holding him down.

A light flashed in one eye...and then the other...

"I...Where...It was...a ghost town..."

"What was a ghost town, Timothy?"

Then, the pain hit him with all the force of a sledgehammer and he stopped trying to move.

"Did you see the car, McGee?"

"Car?" he asked. "No...car...just...tumbleweeds..."

A moment of silence.

"Just stay still. The ambulance should be here soon enough."

"Ambulance?"

A face loomed over him.

"Tim, do you remember what happened?"

"Hurts..."

"Yes, you were hit by a car. Do you remember?"

"I...saw...a piano..."

The face pulled out of his view.

"He's clearly disoriented. There's no sense in trying to get any information out of him right now. He's likely suffering from a serious concussion, and who knows what else. Mr. Palmer, you're doing a marvelous job of keeping the rain off."

"Rain?" Tim asked. "No...dusty...ghost town..."

He heard a chuckle. "Okay, Probie, no more late-night westerns for you. I'm sorry I introduced you to the Duke."

His eyes started to close, but a gentle tap on his cheek pulled him back again.

"Stay with us, Timothy. What else did you see?"

"Kate was...serving drinks..." Tim said vaguely. "Everyone there was dead."

"Except you."

"Ziva?"

"Yes, McGee." Her face appeared for a moment. "Yes, we are all here. Once the ambulance comes, they will take care of you."

"I heard you...a sound...not a piano..."

"Tim, just relax. I can hear the ambulance."

"Erin was...there...playing the piano."

Ducky's face appeared. "Don't worry, Timothy. All will be clear at a later date."

"You sure?"

"I'm certain."

"Okay..."

Tim felt himself moved onto a stretcher and put into an ambulance. He couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. His eyes started to close again, and he thought he heard something.

"Feel free to come back any time, Tim. Bye."

FINIS!