Author's note: This was inspired by a review left by All-I-Need for "Domus Hadeum". This, however, is silly whereas DH was anything but.


A good looking man with silver hair walked into the bullpen. Van Pelt asked him, "Can I help you?"

"Agent Gibbs, NCIS. I'm looking for Agent Lisbon."

"Right over there." She pointed to Lisbon's glass walled office.

"Thanks, miss. Or Agent?"

"Agent. Van Pelt, CBI. Serious Crimes Unit. Lisbon's my boss."

"I'll look forward to briefing you, then, Agent Van Pelt." He walked to Lisbon's office and knocked on the open door.

Looking up from her paperwork, Lisbon made eye contact, and said, "Hello?"

"I'm Agent Gibbs, NCIS. You spoke with one of my agents about the brother of Staff Sargent Martin Preble."

"Oh, yes, Agent Gibbs. Robert Preble's body was found by groundskeepers at Forest Lake Golf Course. Cause of death appears to be electrocution. Our ME puts time of death at roughly the same time as Staff Sargent Preble's death."

"I've got a dead Marine in Virginia, you have his dead brother in California. Same cause of death, same time of death. That's too much coincidence."

"Let me introduce you to my team, and we can get started." Lisbon led Gibbs back out into the bullpen. After summing up what the NCIS knew about the mystery and hearing the same from the CBI agents, Gibbs left with Van Pelt and Jane to interview Robert's coworkers. An hour and a half later they returned with one James Neil in custody for further questioning. And for punching Jane. But mostly for the questioning.

In Interview Room 1, James sat across the table from Gibbs and Cho. Jane and Lisbon watched from behind the two-way mirror. As James waxed eloquent about the charms of his girlfriend Bella the administrative assistant with whom Jane had flirted tirelessly, earning him the punch in the nose. Oddly, it seemed Bella was a short brunette.

Lisbon felt uncomfortable enough that she retreated to her office, with Jane following close on her heels.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," she said.

Jane said, "Noticed what? What is there to notice?"

"You are attracted to petite women with dark hair, kind of like me. You, sir, have a Type. And I'm it. Any other man would have had me upside down and halfway to happyland by now. But you - you're all sharing ice cream sundaes like the servers are on roller skates and grabbing my ass when you know very well you aren't going to remember it."

Surprised, he said, "Grabbing your - what? I don't remember doing that. That's absurd. I barely pay any heed to women. My libido was completely cauterized by the trauma Red John inflicted on me. I couldn't have a Type if I wanted to. Now, I could have any woman I wanted, if I wanted. But I don't. Want to, that is. Women are no more interesting to me than pawns on a chessboard. I know they exist, I pay attention to where they go, what they do. But I am not attracted to them, even the ones that are like you. And I certainly never wished I was 15 again so I wouldn't feel like such a pervy old man mooning after Michelle Trachtenburg during season seven of Buffy when I rewatched it in the attic last winter."

"Oh, god. I can't know that. A chess piece? That's really all I am to you? Get out of my office." She blushed deep red and threw a calculator at his head.

He ducked. "Of course you are more than a chess piece to me - I do care about you. I just never think of you as a woman, except when I'm trying to peek through your windows when you are getting changed."

"I knew it, I knew you saw more than you admitted when I was trying on that pink thing for Van Pelt's wedding. And what do you mean, you don't think of me as a woman? Get out of my office or I swear by your best suit jacket, I will end you." She threw a stainless steel water bottle (full) at his mid-section. Or possibly lower.

"I'll get out of your office until you have cooled down." Jumping out of the way of the airborne weapon, he bumped into Agent Gibbs. " Sorry."

With lightening reflexes, Gibbs smacked Jane upside the back of his head like a probie.

"Ow! I said I was sorry." Looking back into Lisbon's office, he raised his voice to say, "You see, Lisbon, that's why I hate apologizing. It doesn't help."

Gibbs said, "Even for you that was particularly stupid. Now go back in there, get down on your knees and - "

"Propose? I don't want to admit it to her, but she's right."

"No, you ass, don't interrupt me. For God's sake, take your own advice - don't be yourself. You apologize. Then you back off and give her some space. If you don't, I might have to show her how a real man moves on after tragedy."

"Meh, didn't we just establish that apologizing is useless? And we both know Van Pelt is more your type."

"Only in looks," the older man said. "She's way too young. It would be like dating Abby."

"I knew it. Everybody talks about you two, but I knew there was nothing going on between you. By the way, how does it feel to have shot the man responsible for murdering your wife and child?"

"I don't talk about that."

"You don't talk about a lot of things. I guess I'll just have to come watch you make a boat to find out how you think."

"But no helping. You are pretty, but you aren't pretty enough to get an invitation to touch my tools."

As for the Preble brothers, Ducky came to the conclusion that Martin had had a heart attack. The electrocution happened after he collapsed onto a Medusa's Head of computer cables that mice had been nibbling at. The Master Sargent's wife had cause to curse his allergies to pets; if only they had been able to have a cat, he might still be alive. The Sacramento ME's office determined Robert's injuries were consistent with a lighting strike - and there was no one to blame but himself.