Scar Spar

by KT

ATF x-over NCIS

Declaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be.

Note: Among other things, this ficlet was inspired by a rather famous film scene. Thank you Mr. Spielberg. Betaed and edited by LT.

For teams with reputations for not playing and working well with others, Team Seven and Gibbs' NCIS team had managed to get on quite well - eventually. As a result, three Marine reservists who had been selling military weapons that should have been decommissioned and destroyed, were now all behind bars. The two teams gathered in The Saloon for a joint celebration. It was now late and a considerable amount of alcohol had been consumed. JD was sitting next to the formidable Jethro Gibbs and seemed to be fascinated by his arm.

"What are you staring at, kid?" Gibbs growled when he finally noticed.

"Oh sorry, I was just …nothing," JD stuttered.

Jethro smiled and rolled his arm over, exposing the long scar on the inside of his fore arm. "Bowie knife."

JD grinned and pulled up the sleeve of his tee shirt, revealing his upper arm and it's two indented star shaped scars. ".45 though and through, ended up in my ribs."

Gibbs looked, if not impressed, at least not dismissive.

Not to be out done, Ziva pushed her shirt off her left shoulder, revealing two parallel burn scars. "Red hot barbecue fork."

"How did that happened?" Nathan asked. He was the only one even close to being sober.

"My cousin. He was going through a Zorro phase. He was also drunk at the time. It was an accident."

Ezra giggled as he lifted his leg up on to the table and pulled back his linen slacks, revealing a ring of indented scars. "Wolf trap."

"Ouch!" Tony sympathised.

"Aren't those illegal?" Dr Mallard asked.

"Why do you think we were after the miscreant who set it? That, and the moonshine he was brewing," Ezra explained.

Dr Mallard then lifted is own shirt, revealing his side, just above his waistband. There was a prominent crescent shaped scar. "Samurai sword, a drug dealer in Hong Kong/ He took exception to my evidence putting his brother behind bars."

While everyone else was admiring Ducky's scar, McGee pulled up his own shirt and glanced at his appendix scar. Shaking his head, he tucked his shirt in again.

Vin, with a lack of inhibition only alcohol could give him, stood and dropped his jeans. He then turned and revealed a scar which, he declared ran from his hip to his ankle. "But you'll have t' take my word for that, 'cause I ain't about to take off my boots fer ya, no how, no way!"

"That is impressive man!" Tony congratulated.

"Wow!" Tim gasped.

"What the hell happened to you?" Gibbs asked.

"Someone threw him though a plate glass window," Buck explained as Vin struggled to pull his jeans back up.

"Why is there never an x-ray machine available when you need one," Tony lamented.

"What to you want an x-ray machine for? We're comparing scars, not metalwork," Josiah reminded.

"He wants to show you his lungs," Ducky explained. "Which are impressively scared it has to be said."

Tony crossed his arms and smiled smugly.

"Your lungs are scared?" JD asked incredulously. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Plague," Tony stated simply.

"Plague?" Vin asked, almost falling off the bench as he tried to get away from Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I don't still have it! Beat the odds though, 7 to 1 against!"

Ezra shook his head. "You should have held out for a better price," he slurred.

"We got that beat!" JD declared.

"We do?" asked Chris, who had so far had stayed out of the whole conversation other than trying to get Tanner back into his pants.

"Come on Buck, take your shirt off," JD encouraged.

"Oh I don't know. It’s not that impressive." Buck all but blushed.

"Off, off, off!" Vin and JD chanted.

"Come on Agent Wilmington, I showed you mine," Ziva encouraged, batting her eyes at him.

"Oh all right, for the lady." Buck turned around as he undid a few buttons and let his shirt slip down far enough so that they could all see the pale, fist sized scar over his shoulder blade and the accompanying surgery scars.

"What's that?" Tony asked.

"AK47," Chris told them darkly.

Gibbs actually looked impressed.

"You were lucky to survive," Ducky commented.

"I say Buck wins," Ziva declared.

Buck smiled as he pulled his shirt back on. Then he looked over at Chris, a little nod of the head acknowledging that the scar on Chris' heart was far greater.

Had they but known it, it was a scar shared by Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

The End