Ships in the Night - Part 1

The sound of gunfire was echoing through the air. Bullets peppering the wall she was ducked behind, sending pieces of cement and powdered rock into the air. She couldn't help the cough as her throat threatened to close up.

Once again she was in a very uncomfortable situation thanks to her deal with the CIA. She was seriously starting to rethink her acquaintance with Trent Kort. This whole getting blindsided and shot at by the baddies was starting to get more than a little old…well after the first time it had happened it had gotten old…now, it was positively ancient.

She coughed again. After all, it wasn't like they were trying to keep where they were hiding secret from the shooters or anything by being quiet. The rounds of ammunition being fired at them made it perfectly clear that their location was no secret to anyone. Besides, she couldn't even hear herself think over the chaos never mind coughing.

"Not my fault," Kort shouted at her from where he was ducked behind another section of wall about four feet away from her.

She was pleased to see he was looking a little ruffled by what they had found themselves in the middle of.

Tim flinched as another round of bullets hit the wall, some of them flying over her head.

"That's what you said last time," she shouted back, "And the time before," And the time before that one too.

She just hoped she would get out this mess without another bullet hole in her body…and without dragging Kort by the arms to a getaway vehicle – ah, the wonderful memories she was collecting with this job. While her fitness had increased some since the first mission almost a year ago, Trent was still a full grown man and when he was a dead weight he weighed a ton.

"It isn't though," he called back, sounding almost whiny.

Okay, so maybe she would have to let him off the hook where this particular screw up was concerned, as it seemed they had stumbled into another mission being carried out by another agency or organisation. They were yet to identify just who else had been in the building – that had more security around it than Fort Knox. She had been able to disrupt the sensors only for a limited window of time, but when they had stumbled into another operation that time had not been enough, trapping them in the building as the security sensors had once again come on line, setting of what had sounded like every alarm in the building. Tim was certain she could still hear the high pitched wailing of the alarms ringing in her ear under the sounds of the shooting.

Having a body throw itself over the wall and flop beside her was so unexpected it had her falling to her side, her gun raised and ready to fire until the man – his pale gray suit torn and blood stained – turned to her.

Her heart froze for a second in her chest as her eyes met the blue gaze of the blond man panting by her side, his back pressed against the wall.

"James," she gasped, lowering her gun.

"Hello Tim," he smiled at her.

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The shots continued. How come it always seemed the bad guys had more ammunition than they did? Every time it was like this. Like an endless supply of bullets – badly shot, thankfully – were being fired at them. Next time Kort came calling for her computer savvy self she was going nowhere with him unless he came to pick her up in a tank.

They had finally been able to get away from the wall - the lovely, safe, bullet stopping wall – and were now running across some dangerously open space, to a pick-up point. It seemed that James Bond had gone up in the world.

She could here the telltale sound of chopper blades cutting through the air and took her gaze from the ground for a second to look up into the sky. A helicopter was hovering in the sky. But why wasn't it coming any closer? Why wasn't it –

"We'll have to jump!" James shouted from her side.

Jump?

Oh no.

They cleared a slight hill and for the first time Tim realised just what they were running towards. There was only about fifty yards left of ground and then nothing but the blue of the ocean.

"Are you joking?" she panted, forcing the air into her lungs and back out.

Her legs were burning. Her lungs aching. The back of her nose stinging from the force of her breathing.

They were going to make her jump? She looked back to the helicopter and saw that someone was hovering in the open door. They were going to fish them out of the water. She could already feel the dip in her stomach that would come from the jump.

She got no answer from either of the men, other than for one of them – she looked to the side, it was Kort – to grab her hand and force her to speed up. She stumbled slightly. The jump was getting closer.

And closer.

Her breath was coming harder.

"Now,"

And just like that there was no more ground under her and she was falling.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tim coughed and shivered as a foil blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She glared at Kort who was being made to wrap his own emergency blanket around himself despite his continual argument that he was fine. And damn it, he looked fine too. No shivering, no nothing.

"I hate you," she ground out at the man.

He had the cheek to laugh at her words and simply shifted over to sit beside her.

"No you don't," he told her with a chuckle, rapping his arm about her shoulder and pulling her into his side.

She would have struggled just to make a point but she found that despite the dampness of his clothes he was giving out enough body-heat to put the sun to shame.

He was right. She didn't hate him.

"Yes I do," she grumbled petulantly, leaning her head again him.

He continued to chuckle and rubbed at her arm.

"Alright then, you can hate me if you want to," he mumbled.

"Thank you," she sniffed, "I will,"

A paramedic – this chopper was equipped for every eventuality it would seem – approached her with a couple of blue packs in his hands. She watched as he clicked a small metal plate in each one, causing the blue liquid to crystallize. She sighed happily as she allowed the paramedic to place the warm packs were they needed to be and thanked him.

He smiled at her and went to assist the other paramedic, this had her eyes drifting to the man she had not seen face-to-face in year.

She looked to James who was trying to bat away the other paramedic who was fussing over his countless cuts. To say that he had risked being turned into a colander when he sought refuge behind her wall he had escaped relatively whole.

"Import and exports, hmm?" she called to him, resting her head sleepily against Kort, ignoring the dampness of his clothes - after all, she was just as wet. She was so tired.

James looked up from where he was failing to convince the medic that he didn't need any attention and simply looked around at the inside of the helicopter – one of the most high-tech interiors she had ever seen that was for sure. He gave her a 'what-can-i-say' shrug accompanied by a small quirking the wide of his mouth.

"Desk job in Norfolk?" he smiled at her and she mirrored his own actions to her a moment before, but she couldn't stop the flush that she felt burning the tips of her ears.

"Looks like we have quite a bit of catching up to do, Miss McGee,"

"Indeed, Mr Bond,"

So there we have it.

MI6 and the CIA stepping on each others toes in the middle of a mission seemed like fun to me. And as it happened in Quantum of Solace it is also totally feasible! :)

And as for them knowing each other...Tim is a Navy kid and Bond wasn't always a double-o ;).

Please let me know what you think.

Take care :)

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Tada! And so begins collection number 2 of McGirl. :)

There will be a little run of McGee/Bond for the first few chapters.

I hope you enjoy them!