Hey guys! Last Tuesday's episode of NCIS was freaking amazing (albeit a little melodramatic, but I liked it like that) but EJ continues to annoy the crap out of me. I'm really, really hoping that she turns out to be the P2P killer so she can get off the show, because right now I want to actually strangle her. So my imagination wandered a bit and I ended up writing this oneshot of her and her thoughts. In case you get thoroughly creeped out, absolutely none of EJ's thoughts echo my own. I'm actually in awe of our military men and have a deep respect for what they do.

WARNING: This is kind of gross/creepy/serial killer-esque, so if you don't like reading about psychotic killers and how their minds work, don't keep reading.

Please review, even if you don't like it at all. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this, but let me know how you do! Thanks, hope you all enjoy. xx

It was all too easy.

NCIS Special Agent EJ Barrett sat curled up on her navy blue couch, cocooned in a yellow blanket, sipping hot chocolate from a steaming ceramic mug that she had gotten in Guam after her first. The photos sprawled out on the coffee table in front of her brought immense satisfaction. Four different crime scenes, four different Navy men, all in uniform.

She had to admit, even dead, men in uniform were definitely a turn on. And the fact that she had slept with all four men was just the icing on the cake.

It was a stroke of luck, really, that she was now head of the investigations into the Port-to-Port killer. And she had almost gotten away with it too, pinning the murders on Bryce Leitner. But then that gray bastard of an agent had shot her theory to hell with a "reliable tip". She knew from experience that "reliable tips" generally came from people she had slept with. She wondered which team member had gotten that piece of pillow talk.

And then the misogynist had then caught the mistake she had made with Balfour. She had tried to keep that slip up under wraps, but apparently the ninety year old's vision was still keen as ever. He reminded her of her father, that fucking bastard.

She hadn't been expecting the team's discovery of Nathan Finney so soon. She had planned his murder in concordance with the slow death of the orchids she had left on the freezer, wanting to have the decomposition of the body match the decomposition of the flowers. It would have made a beautiful staging.

It really was a shame, looking at the photos, that she hadn't had the foresight to have Adam Atwood as her first. The dashing Navy lieutenant who had put the diamond ring on her finger would have made for a rollicking good time. It was because of him, after all, that the baby doll trap had been invented. He definitely would have fallen for it, and better yet, he would have known for a split second exactly who was grabbing him from behind before having his throat cut.

She would have had a good life with Adam. Erica Atwood - the name had a old-world sound to it that she rather liked. It was unfortunate that cousin Georgiana had lured him away before they could even plan the wedding. It wasn't even her cousin either, it was his, albeit his third cousin, but still, incest is incest, and like her mama said, a sin is a sin.

Seeing Georgiana straddling her fiance had been the eyeopener that she had needed, for it was right then and there that she realized all men were just pieces of shit, particularly military men.

She stretched her long fingers before settling them around the mug again. She had been with Ray when she had bought it in Guam when they were investigating her first. It still made her frustrated that she couldn't seduce him during the months they had worked together. It was all okay now though, since she had Tony DiNozzo to act out her fantasies through. The man had certainly been willing enough to hop into bed with her. How sex starved had he been? All it had taken was a well timed shower and he had been begging on his knees. It was quite gratifying knowing that she had a certain pull over him that even the 'great white shark' didn't.

She really should have gone into acting. The way she played that entire NCIS team was laughable and quite sad actually, considering all the fanfuckingtastic things she had heard about them. That eyeball ice cube had been thought up on the spot as she had watched the two partners sitting together at the bar. It made her both uneasy and thrilled at the way they looked at each other. On the one hand, Tony was hers, and even though he wasn't military per say, he investigated crimes involving the military, so she could settle for that. On the other hand, if Ray had seen them like that, it would have been all too easy to get him into her bed.

Improvisation had never been her strong suit, as she liked meticulous planning instead, but she had to admit, the eyeball was amazing. She hadn't stayed to see their reactions, but she wanted to step up the stakes in the game, let them know that whoever was the Port-to-Port killer, they knew who was investigating them. She could envision them now, staring in horror at the grotesque image in front of them. But it wasn't grotesque. It was beautiful, in a poetic way. Why couldn't people just see things the way she did? An open eye, frozen in time. She was sure there was some sci-fi series episode with that theme.

She needed to stop reveling in memories and deeds of the past, however recent they were. Tomorrow would bring even more pressure to perform, and she needed to plan how to handle and take care of this new puzzle she had laid for them.

She couldn't wait for them to find out who's eyeball it was.