NCIS Special Ops Challenge #9
"Gibbs is taking a shortcut," Tony commented to Kate.
"Do I look blind, Tony?" Kate asked irritably. "I can see what's going on just as well as you. Gibbs is turning the wrong way," she added suddenly, a worried note in her voice.
"Do I look blind, Kate?" Tony mimicked. "Gibbs is slowing down."
"Gibbs is turning back the right way."
"Gibbs is speeding up."
"Would you two shut up," Gibbs hissed in a barely controlled voice.
"Yes, boss."
"Sorry, Gibbs."
Silence reigned and a bare trace of a smile graced Gibbs' face. The joy was short-lived, however.
"Kate's crowding me," Tony whined.
"Tony's annoying me," Kate returned.
"Stay on your side of the truck. Both of you," Gibbs ordered sternly, his hands quivering in irritation. Again the car was quietâfor about thirty seconds.
"Kate's poking me," Tony piped up.
"I am not! Tony's on my side," Kate defended herself.
"Your side's bigger than mine."
"It is not!"
"Is, too! Just like your Christmas bonus."
"Well, maybe I do better work."
"What? I do just as good work as you."
"Whatever."
"Hey! I do!"
"Well, then, maybe Gibbs just likes me better."
"What? Gibbs doesn't like you better," Tony scoffed.
"Let's ask him. Gibbs, who do you like better? Me or Tony?"
"I don't like either one of you right now!" he growled, his arms shaking up to his shoulders now.
"Oh, sorry, boss."
"Yeah, we'll shut up." And they did, for a short time. But then
"Hey, Kate," Tony sniggered. "How many cats had to die to make your pants?"
"These are very expensive designer pants. Besides, your shirt looks like someone threw up on itâDid you?" she sneered.
"This is a chic look! My shirt could teach yours a few lessons about fashion," he snorted.
"My shirt looks better than your hair. Or is that a dead animal?"
"At least I comb my hair."
"You do? So that whole I-look-like-a-drowned-rat look is intentional? 'Cause you know, Tony, it works for you."
"Well, thanks, Kate. I suppose you're making a fashion statement, too. You're trying to say, 'I've dressed myself since kindergarten and my taste hasn't improved.'"
"Both of you shut up. Now," Gibbs demanded in a voice just short of a yell. His entire torso was trembling.
"Got it."
"Okay, boss."
"Why do you always call him 'boss'?"
"Why shouldn't I? Why do you always call him 'Gibbs'?"
"Because that's his name. 'Boss' is soâcasual."
"Well, he doesn't seem to mind, now does he?"
"Maybe he just doesn't want to say anything."
"Would you two quit talking about me like I'm not here?" Gibbs yelled, his entire body quaking with anger and frustration. He screeched to a halt, throwing Kate and Tony forward into the seats in front of them.
"Ouch!"
"Ow!"
Gibbs swung around sharply in his seat, barely having felt Kate slam into his seat. He was about to ream them out when he saw their faces and struck on a far better idea.
"Okay, out. Both of you, out of the truck." They went, puzzled, their hands cupped under their noses. "Meet me at the scene in ten minutes." He put the truck in gear and smiled mischievously at them.
"But, boss –"
"Gibbs, wait!"
He only grinned and drove away as they called after him in unison, "But what about all this blood?"