"Tell me a story!"

Tim looked down at the five-year-old girl standing before him. Her mother, Petty Officer Carol Combs, had been shot at a local strip mall while the two of them were shopping and was now in critical condition. Gibbs was hesitant to release the girl to any of the family members until he could say for a fact that they were not involved in the shooting, so she would be staying at NCIS for the time being.

Tim wondered how he had gotten stuck watching the little girl while Gibbs and Tony went to interview her family members and Ziva went to talk to her co-workers. Oh, right…Tony had volunteered him while he was in the bathroom. Damn you, bladder!

"Um…can it wait, Eve?" Even though he had been delegated to baby-sitter he still had a job to do while the others were gone. Namely, he had to check Combs' phone records from the past three months to see if she had been in contact with her ex-husband, Larry Burrs, check her bank account for any large deposits or withdrawals, and check the security tapes where the shooting occurred. If only Abby didn't have to be in court today, he thought.

"Please," she begged.

Tim looked at the girl again, her eyes wide, her mouth pouting, her hands clasped together, and he relented. It was hard enough having your mother shot and in critical condition. If he were five he wouldn't want to be stuck in a boring, old, office either. "Okay, a quick story," he agreed. He grabbed a chair for her and situated it right across from him. "Uh…what kind of story?"

"One with a princess…and a knight...and…and a dragon!"

He smiled. "Okay, a princess, a knight, and a dragon. Um…" he closed his eyes in thought. "Oh, I've got it! Once upon a time there was a large kingdom–"

"What was the name of the kingdom?"

"Oh…uh…er…Iso…mis…tamia…Isomistamia," he proclaimed. "That was the name, Isomistamia. So in this kingdom there was a king…King Gibbs! He had two beautiful daughters, Princess Abby and Princess Ziva."

"What did they look like?"

"Well, Princess Abby was fair, with dark black hair and green eyes. She liked to wear a lot of black. Princess Ziva was tanner with brown hair and brown eyes. She was a bit more rugged than Princess Abby." Eve looked content with the description of the princesses, so Tim continued. "In this kingdom was a fire-breathing dragon that lived in the forest. Though he never came into the kingdom, he terrorized those who hunted out in the forest, so many of the people had little food. Because of this, the king announced that if any man could slay the dragon, he would be allowed to marry one of the princesses. All of the knights of the kingdom tried, but failed. Finally, it was Sir Tony's chance to try."

"Was he handsome?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "He was…attractive…yes, and brave, of course. Still, Sir Tony wasn't exactly the brightest guy in the kingdom," he explained, knowing if Tony ever found out about this Tim would have a concussion from the head slap he'd receive. "He relied greatly on his squire, Timothy…"

"McGee!" Sir Tony barked to the young squire carrying the saddle. "Get a move on, will you?"

Timothy grunted as he lugged the saddle. "This thing isn't exactly light!" He dropped it on the horse's back.

"Get over it! What are you going to do when – and if – you're finally knighted and you need to ready yourself for battle?"

Timothy rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll just do what you do: get my squire to do all the work while I flirt with every maiden who passes by." His sarcasm was responded to with a slap on the back of his head. He simply glared at the knight and busied himself with hooking the saddle. "When do we leave?"

"'We'?" Sir Tony asked incredulously. "This is a one-man job, McGee. I leave as soon as you stop dawdling and ready my horse and weapon."

"But part of my job is to ride into battle with you!" Timothy protested. "It's in the Knighthood Manual!"

"Those manual rules are more guidelines than actual rules. I have no problem with you following behind during the large battles, McGee, but your presence isn't necessary for this. This is simply between me and him. It's mano e mano: Man to Man."

"Actually, that means 'Hand to hand.' 'Mano' is Spanish–"

Sir Tony dismissed his comments with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, nobody cares. The idea is still Man to Man."

"But he's a dragon," Timothy pointed out, earning him a glare from the knight.

"Are you going to stand here contradicting me or are you going to get my weapon?"

Timothy all but bit his tongue to keep from again responding with sarcasm. He retrieved the sword for Sir Tony, still pouting about not being allowed to come along. "I could just go part-way with you and then watch," Timothy suggested. "You know, to learn…and to be there in case you need help…"

"Timothy," Sir Tony addressed the squire, his hands on the young man's shoulders, "I understand your frustrations. I just don't know that you're ready and I would hate to see you get hurt before you even have the chance to be knighted." He mounted his horse, his sword by his side. "Don't worry, kid. Pretty soon you'll be going off to slay dragons and rescue damsels." Sir Tony gave his squire a wink before galloping out.

Timothy leaned back against the door of the stable, watching the knight ride off as young maidens waved their handkerchiefs, wishing him good luck. He both admired and envied Sir Tony. Though the knight was pompous and condescending at times, Timothy knew he was learning a lot as his squire and that, when the day arrived that he was knighted, he would be well prepared for knighthood.

He smiled, thinking about himself, decked out in armor, complete with sword and steed. He could see himself trotting down the path with beautiful women calling to him, hoping and praying that he would honor them with a smile. He could imagine going into battle, his own squire in tow. He would go bravely, swinging his weapon with skill, never missing his target. He knew he would do his kingdom proud. He wanted his knighthood so badly he could taste it.

"Timothy! What are you still doing here?" Ducky, the kingdom's wizard, healer, and part-time inventor, was nearing, Behind was his young apprentice, Jimmy, a kind, though slightly bumbling, young man. "I'd have though you and Sir Tony would be gone by now."

Timothy smiled wryly. "Sir Tony thinks I'm too green for this mission. He doesn't want me to get hurt."

Ducky laughed. "I think it's simply that he doesn't want to share the glory of victory with his squire."

"But I've gone into battle with him before."

"Yes, but that was when he was one of many knights. In this case, should he succeed in slaying the dragon, he wants everyone to cheer him and only him upon his return." The wizard clapped his hand over the young man's shoulder. "In the meanwhile, perhaps you would like to accompany me down to my lair. I could use your opinion."

Timothy followed, still feeling dejected. He fell into step with Jimmy. "Do you think Sir Tony will rid us of the dragon?" the young apprentice asked.

"Of course!" Timothy responded, his chest puffed out in pride. "He is the best and bravest." His chest deflated, realizing how insufferable Sir Tony would be when he returned victorious. Timothy knew he'd spend the next three years listening to tales of how he had bravely faced the dragon and slain him with one hand behind his back.

"I'm not sure which is worse," Timothy confided in Jimmy, "Sir Tony coming back a hero or Sir Tony coming back burnt to a crisp."

As the trio entered the space Ducky used Timothy was immediately drawn to a cauldron bubbling with a white substance. "Is this something dangerous?" he asked Ducky.

"Dangerous? Heavens no!" the man laughed. "It's a burn remedy I've been working on. I figured with all of the men going off to fight the dragon it would be smart to have something like that on hand." He was searching through cabinets, pulling out chemicals and gadgets and handing each one to Jimmy. "Now where did I put that…Aha!" he cried out triumphantly. "Here we are!" In his hands was a large machine unlike any Timothy had seen before. The body of the machine was an array of letters, each with its own specific button. Near the top a piece of paper was being held.

Timothy studied it with intrigue. "What is that?"

Ducky set it down, dusting it off. "I haven't yet thought up a name," he admitted, "but it will make writing much easier. All you need to do is strike one of the letters," he explained, pushing the 'K.' As he did, something flew up and smacked against the paper, leaving the imprint of a 'K' where it hit. "It will be much easier than hand-writing, I believe."

Timothy leaned in closer. "It's interesting, Ducky, but wouldn't it be more effective if there were ink? An imprint of a letter can only last so long."

"Yes, therein lies the problem, Timothy. I had originally put ink on each of the letter molds, but it dried up and it's too difficult to simply reapply ink every time you use it." Ducky looked at Timothy. The young squire was inspecting the machine meticulously. "Any suggestions?"

Timothy ran his fingers along the letters, along the paper, along every inch of the gadget. "Suppose…" he began, his eye brows furrowed together as he thought. "Suppose you had some sort of strand of ink that would be placed between the paper and the letters. When the letter struck against the strand of ink to hit the paper it would leave an ink imprint."

"A strand of ink? That just may work!" Ducky grabbed a vile of ink. "Timothy, are you certain you want to be a knight? With a mind like yours I'm sure you could go far in science."

"Thank you, Ducky, but I don't think I'd ever be truly happy in any other profession. I know being a knight is hard work, but I'm up for it."

"Yes, well I certainly admire your determination, Timothy."

"Besides, it's not as though I'd never be using my brain. In fact, I'm working on a formula that could best predict what the force of impact will be with another knight dependant in my horse's velocity and–" Timothy stopped as he heard a familiar sound in the air. "The trumpets! Sir Tony is back!" He ran from the lair, both Ducky and Jimmy close behind.

"He has slain the dragon already?" Jimmy asked incredulously.

"Perhaps," Ducky said, though skeptically. "I don't know that I take this as a good sign, though."

The wizard's fears were well-founded, as a tired and injured knight came through the gates on a horse which looked almost as tired as his rider. "Dear, me!" Ducky exclaimed at the sight.

"Sir Tony!" Timothy sprinted toward the man he had come to respect as his teacher. "Sir Tony, what happened?" He wrapped his arms around the man as he helped him off the horse.

"I lost," he coughed out simply. He tried to walk, but his knees buckled beneath him and he grabbed on to Timothy for support.

"Come on! We'll get you down to the infirmary and he'll get you back on your feet."

Sir Tony coughed again, leaning his weight upon his squire. "I just hope I don't get fired for this," he joked. "Get it?"

Timothy rolled his eyes, though he was glad to see Sir Tony hadn't lost his poor sense of humor. "Yeah, I get it!"

Timothy paced back and forth outside the infirmary. He had wanted to be with Sir Tony as he was treated, but the knight had insisted he stay outside, claiming the infirmary was far too horrible a sight for a squire. Timothy knew, though, that the knight didn't want his squire to see him squirm in pain.

The door opened and Ducky exited. "Before you ask, Timothy, Sir Tony is going to be fine, and no, you cannot see him. He needs his sleep right now."

Timothy shook his head, still unable to comprehend the situation. "Sir Tony was – is – the best knight this kingdom has! If he cannot defeat the dragon what hope can we have?"

Ducky hesitated, not sure how to answer. "I'm sure something will be figured out…"

"Well, I'm not just going to stand here. If no other knight will go…I will!" He turned on his heel, eyes set in determination. He stomped off with Ducky right behind him.

"Timothy! Don't be foolish!" He grasped the young man's arm. "You're not yet a knight and if you go to fight that dragon you will be signing your own death certificate."

"And if I don't we may have to live in terror of this dragon forever. It's a chance I'm willing to take!"

Ducky sighed, understanding that nothing he said would change Timothy's mind. "As I said earlier, I admire your determination." As the young squire continued on his way the wizard muttered to himself, "I only hope it doesn't bring about an early death…"

"And so, your highness, I would like to volunteer my services in fighting the dragon," Timothy explained, feeling much more nervous than he had expected as he spoke to King Gibbs. It wasn't the idea that he was offering to go face-to-face with a fire breathing creature that had him sweating bullets; it was the way the king simply stared at him as he spoke. The presence of the princesses, sitting to the side, giggling softly to each other, wasn't helping either.

King Gibbs was silent for a moment, studying the squire who seemed to be trembling before him. "What you are suggesting," he said slowly as though he didn't completely understand, "is that I allow you, a squire, to go into the forest and try to slay the dragon. Is that correct?"

Timothy nodded shakily. "Yes, your highness."

"Have you any experience with slaying dragons?"

"No, your highness."

"Are you an expert swordsman?"

"No, your highness."

"So how exactly do you hope to battle this creature?"

"…I – I'm not yet sure, your highness…"

"You want me to allow you to ride out into a most certain death? Are you mad?"

"Your highness," Timothy called out louder than he had expected. "If I do fail it will be of no consequence to you nor anyone else here. However, if I succeed – and I understand that is a very big 'if' – the kingdom will no longer need to fear the dragon. Please, your highness…you owe it to this kingdom to at least let me try."

Again the king was silent. The princesses were looking at the squire in a combination of awe, curiosity, and pity. Timothy was certain he was going to be dismissed and prohibited from going to fight the dragon.

"Very well, then."

Timothy looked up in surprise. "Your highness?"

King Gibbs waved him off. "Go and fight the dragon, if that's what you want to do. As you said, if you die it will be of no consequence to me. So go!"

Timothy grinned as he bowed. "Thank you, your highness! I promise you will not be disappointed in me!" He remained somber and courteous as he was escorted out. However, as soon as he was alone, the young squire jumped and whooped with joy. He hurried down to the infirmary, determined to see Sir Tony before he went on his journey. He couldn't be sure whether the knight would be pleased or upset with him, but he knew Sir Tony would support him nonetheless.

"Are you out of your mind, McGee?" The knight was staring at him incredulously from the bed. "I told you! You aren't ready for this kind of thing!"

"And how do you know that?" Timothy asked. "How do you know I'm not ready if you won't give me the chance to try?" He was growing increasingly furious with everyone around him doubting his abilities.

"Look, McGee," Sir Tony said gently, not wanting to hurt the young man's feelings, "you're a squire, not a knight. This is out of your league, and if you go–"

"I'll be signing my own death certificate," Timothy finished bitterly. "Yeah, so I've been told." He crossed his arms irately. "We cannot continue like this, Sir Tony! People need food and they can't get it with that monster running loose. I have to at least try."

Sir Tony lay back looking at his young, defiant squire. "Well, I have to admit that you've got guts, kid," he admitted, giving Timothy a pat on the shoulder. "I'm proud to have had you as my squire."

Timothy grinned, though he noted Sir Tony's use of past participle, indicating that the knight didn't expect him to survive this upcoming battle. "How are you feeling?" he asked in an effort to change the subject.

"Better than I would have thought, considering I was deep fried. That burn remedy Ducky gave me is doing wonders!"

Timothy's mind flashed back to the bubbling cauldron he had seen. "Burn remedy…That's it!" He jumped from his seat excitedly. "That's it!"

"Whoa! What's it?" Sir Tony asked.

"I think I may know how to stop the dragon! I have to go see Ducky!" Timothy gave the puzzled knight a quick farewell before sprinting from the infirmary.

It was getting late when Timothy made his way into the forest to the dragon's cave. He went alone, save for his horse, carrying only a satchel of object and his sword. He hoped, though, that he wouldn't need to use the weapon. He had been told the cave was about a mile into the forest and Timothy was careful to calculate his distance. He wanted to sneak up on the dragon and chose to dismount from his horse when he was about a quarter mile away. He hooked the reins to a tree trunk and crept through the forest the rest of the way.

He knew he was nearing the cave when he saw flares of light and felt an increase in heat. Sure enough, he heard a loud screeching of a dragon, followed by the sound of scorching flames. He dove behind a large tree and knelt down, peeking out slightly behind the trunk.

The dragon was as large as reports had told, if not larger. His scales were a dark green, though the spikes of his back were blue and purple. Sprouting from his back was a set of blue wings which flapped so harshly they sent a wind down through the forest, almost as though counteracting the heat of the flames that would flow from the dragon's mouth.

Timothy dropped the satchel to the ground and collected the items. He'd filled the pewter chamber with gunpowder and placed the pewter chamber inside of a casket, placing the chemical from Ducky's lair on top. He stealthily connected the fuse to the casket, which was not an easy task with the dragon's earsplitting screeches breaking his concentration and almost causing him to drop the entire thing. He looked at the fuse, a knife in hand to cut it. Cut it too long and it would go off too late; cut it too short and it would go off too soon. It had to be measured out carefully in accordance to his plan.

With his makeshift bomb set, Timothy glanced back from behind the tree trunk. The dragon seemed to have calmed down. He was currently seated just outside his cave as though protecting it from intruders. If he was aware of Timothy's presence he wasn't showing it. The squire took a deep breath and gave a quick prayer before jumping out from behind the tree.

"Hey!" he called out to the creature, "I'm here to slay you!" Timothy set the makeshift bomb down and continued to taunt the dragon. "Aren't you going to come and get me?"

The dragon looked up at the squire, obviously angry to have been disturbed. He blew a small spurt of fire Timothy's way, but it hardly even reached the young man.

Timothy grabbed a dirt clod and chucked it at the creature. "Hey! Why don't you try and get me?" He threw another. "Are you afraid of what I can do?" He threw another. This one hit the dragon squarely on the head. And that was it. The creature was up and screeching, bound toward Timothy. "That's it! Come and get me!" Timothy grabbed a match and struck it, putting it to the end of the fuse. "Come on!" he called out, slightly afraid at how near the dragon was. This had to work.

The dragon was in the exact spot Timothy needed him to be. The squire turned and ran without bothering to look back. A second later, as he jumped to the ground with his hands covering his head, he heard the dragon shooting a flame just as the pewter exploded. He heard another screech, this one of pain. He peeked back and there was the dragon, the chemicals covering his snout and his mouth. He was heaving, as though he were trying to spew more flames. But to no avail. "Can't shoot anymore flames?" Timothy asked. He was very pleased with himself, not only because he had done what other knights had failed to do, but because he had done it without even needing to slay the beast. "Those chemicals put out flames in an instant," he explained to the dragon as though the animal could actually understand him. "I think I've put you out for good!"

The dragon screeched once again before retreating back into his cave. And that was the end of the dragon of Isomistamia.

When Timothy returned to the kingdom there were no trumpets and no maidens waving their handkerchiefs, begging him to favor them. There was no cheering or celebrating. Most of the people didn't even know who he was, let alone that he had gone out to slay the dragon. However, when he stepped before the king and proclaimed the dragon was no longer a threat to anyone there was much rejoicing.

"The dragon has been killed?" the king asked skeptically.

"No, your highness, but his flame has been extinguished for good."

King Gibbs stood and walked to the young squire. Timothy was unsure whether he should bow or kneel. Instead, he stood still in fear of doing the wrong thing. Soon the king was nose to nose with him, looking him in the eyes. Timothy gulped and begged his body not to tremble so much.

"You will be knighted!" King Gibbs announced. "Tonight! Tomorrow, you will marry one of my daughters!"

Timothy's mouth open and closed, though no sounds came out. "Kn–knighted? Tonight?" Was that even allowed?

"If a squire shows a grand display of courage and heroism, he, at the approval of the king, may be knighted before his duties as a squire have been fulfilled." King Gibbs sat upon his throne and looked down upon Timothy with what could almost be described as a smile. "I think you have shown a grand display of courage and heroism. Unless…you don't want to be knighted…"

"No! Uh, I mean, yes, your highness, I do want to be knighted…and thank you!" He knelt down before the king.

"Then so you shall be…Sir Timothy!"

And through the court there rose a great cheer for their newfound hero...

"The end," Tim finished.

Eve sat across from him enraptured. "But that can't be the end!"

"Well, it is the end."

"Nu-uh! You didn't say which princess he married!"

"Yeah, McGee!" Tim spun around to see both Abby and Ziva standing there looking amused. "Which one did he choose?" Abby asked.

"Please, McGee, finishing this story for us," Ziva said with a grin on her face.

"How long have you guys been there? I thought you had court," he said, pointing to Abby, "and you had to interview some of the co-workers," he finished, pointing to Ziva.

"I'm finished," Abby told him, looking down in disgust at her tweed suit. "It was just a deposition."

"I, too, am finished," Ziva explained. "Abby and I ran into each other on the way up and were just…enthralled by your story. We would like to know how it ends, McGee."

"Well…Timothy told King Gibbs that both his daughters were so beautiful that he could never choose between them."

Eve clicked her tongue, not completely happy with that ending. Ziva and Abby, though, both laughed. "That's a very nice ending, Timmy," Abby assured him, giving him a hug. Ziva nodded in agreement, though she was still laughing.

"Do you think you could write down the story for my mommy to read to me later?" Eve asked.

Tim's eyes widened. "I, uh, I'll try," he promised, his brain working to remember the story he had just told. "Now, though, I have to get back to work. Abby do you think you could look after Eve for a bit and Ziva, do you think you could look over this security tape footage?" he asked.

The Mossad officer smiled slyly. "Of course, Sir Timothy."

Abby pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and waved it. "But of course, Sir Timothy!"

Ziva grabbed a tissue from her desk and joined Abby. "In return, though, could you please favor us with your glance?" The two laughed as his face turn red.

Ziva disposed of the tissue and took the security tapes from Tim. Before going back to her own desk, though, she looked at him with a small grin. "I am sure that you would have made a very nice knight in shining armor, McGee," she told him sincerely.

"Yeah, Timmy," Abby echoed. "I can see you riding into battle upon your noble steed." Abby shot him a smile as she took Eve's hand. "Come on, Eve! I'll show you my lab and the cool machines I have!" Eve readily agreed and pulled Abby toward the elevator, all thoughts of princesses and knights and dragons gone from her mind. Tim smiled as he watched the duo run off and as he watched Ziva walk back to her desk. In his mind, he continued his story…

"Which daughter will it be, Sir Timothy?" King Gibbs asked. Before the newly knighted young man were the two beautiful daughters. Princess Abby was dressed in a lovely black, lace gown. Her black hair was braided and pulled back. Beside her was Princess Ziva in a sleek green, silk gown. Her brown hair was pulled atop her head, though a few unruly pieces fell about her face.

Sir Timothy lifted his hand and pointed. "Her," he said, smiling softly at his soon-to-be bride. "I choose her."

The princess smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Their lips pressed together in a sweet and gentle kiss. "I love you, Sir Timothy," she said.

"And I love you…Princess Ziva."

AN: What the…did I just write an actual NCIS romance fic? I honestly wasn't planning on that at all! It's just that my fingers have minds of their own at times. That's not to say I'm not pleased with how it came out, mind you, just surprised because it's so…unlike me.

Also, if anyone is actually interested in knowing, the bomb that Timothy puts together is actually (more or less) what the original fire extinguisher was. Granted, the earliest fire extinguisher didn't come about until 1723 (credited to Ambrose Godfrey) so it's a bit out of place in this story. Then again, it's highly unlikely that Timothy would still be a squire at his age (though it is true that squires were sometimes knighted early for heroic deeds on the battle field). Not to mention, the typewriter didn't come about until 1714 (credited to Henry Mill), so there are admittedly a few (intentional) anachronisms. But hey, there's a dragon in it, so I don't think it needs to be completely accurate.

Thanks for reading!