New Story Time! So a few weeks ago I said to LouC, hey, I had a thought... NCIS as a western. Gibbs as the Sheriff with Tony as his deputy. Everything went from there. I wrote a lot of this on the fly, there's probably historical inaccuracies, and don't ask which state its set in because I simply don't know one that'd work...

I had a lot of fun writing this, drawing a lot of inspiration from season 3, because I've been quite dissatisfied with season 8 so far, especially the fact that Ziva's never around. i hope you enjoy it too.

Credit to LouC, who was much more than a beta for this one, I think she's earned Producer credits.

It was clichéd but the fact was that Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't like the cemetery much. Bad memories plagued him whenever he found it in him to venture out this far east of the town. He avoided it mostly. The mourning he did, he did from the privacy of his own home, away from the irritating old gossips around town. It was none of their business, frankly.

But then on occasion, he'd be obliged to attend someone's funeral. Someone who he couldn't bring himself to disrespect by failing to attend. So he'd wearily mount his horse and make his way out east.

Tom Morrow was such a man. He and Gibbs had served in the civil war together, before they returned back to their poky little town. Morrow took over his father's saloon, and Gibbs became a deputy, before eventually being pressed to take the top job.

Now Tom Morrow was dead. Like Gibbs, he had no family. Gibbs had a meeting with the lawyer kid in town to talk about what was to happen with Tom's estate. He imagined the saloon would be sold off and the proceeds would go to some distant third cousin who Tom himself had never met in his life. Gibbs didn't like to think that he was looking at a pretty similar fate.

At least Morrow's ceremony was well attended, more than half the town had shown up to bid farewell. Morrow was a good sort and his saloon was popular with everyone. He'd always been happy to listen to someone who needed to vent. He'd kept things clean, and made sure to call on Gibbs if he ever thought some real troublemakers had shown up in his front bar.

More than that, he'd been a friend to Gibbs during some hard times. Gibbs was running out of them faster than he cared to admit.

'Hey, boss. Back already?'

The lounging deputy hurriedly removed his feet from Gibbs' desk and stood. Gibbs watched the man subconsciously straighten his vest as he rose. He knew a lot of people around town had been surprised when he took on Tony DiNozzo, the formerly homeless gunhand, as his deputy. But despite all appearances, he had high hopes for the kid. Sure he was vain about his appearance, liked to drink and flirt with anything wearing a skirt and got on some people's nerves with the constant talking. But underneath it all, there was a smart man who could pick out a liar. He wasn't a bad shot either.

'Anything happen while I was out?' Gibbs asked, hanging his hat on the peg by the door.

'Murphy came in with some story about stolen sheep, but I'll bet you he's just gone and shot them during another drinking binge. Wouldn't be the first time.'

'We'll look into it tomorrow.' Gibbs replied.

'There's no crime there, boss.'

'Don't go assuming that until you've at least had a look around. Sure, Murphy's a drunk and a fool, but that don't mean there aren't real thieves out there,' Gibbs lectured.

Tony sighed, 'Fine.'

'Go home, DiNozzo, I'll close up today.'

Gibbs watched his deputy walk out into the evening. DiNozzo absently made towards the saloon before he stopped, remembering that the place had been closed down since Morrow's death. Instead he turned down another street, undoubtedly to seek to comfort of one of his many lady friends.

Tony was indeed going to see a lady friend. Although this particular lady he considered to be more like the little sister he never had. The thought of pursuing Abby in a romantic fashion just seemed utterly wrong to him.

He knew Abby would be miserable after Morrow's funeral. She and the old guy were close. Along with Gibbs and Ducky the town's physician, the three men had taken responsibility for raising the girl after her parents' death fifteen years ago.

He figured a few games of poker would cheer her right up. They only ever played for match sticks after Abby managed to win his entire first pay check. Gibbs had made her give it straight back to him, but ever since he'd been determined to beat her back. Until the time when he felt confident he could do so, matches would be their only currency.

Glenside was a bit of a backwater, really. Tony had grown up travelling around with his father. Before the DiNozzo Shipping Company had gone completely broke, he'd managed to see bits of Europe, and even taken one memorable trip out west to China.

But then his father had lost it all and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. His creditors soon cleaned up what was left of the Company and left a teenaged Tony DiNozzo Junior to find his own way in the world. First he travelled out west, thinking the gold rush would be the answer to the DiNozzo family's woes. But that plan failed on account of all the work involved in searching for gold that Tony just wasn't prepared to commit himself to.

So instead he found himself taking on a whole host of odd jobs, travelling around wherever he could find work. He found himself doing a lot of bounty hunting and it turned out he had a knack for tracking down criminals. Which led him to Glenside and his first meeting with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Now he had a steady job and a place of his own. And even if this rundown little place really was too small for a DiNozzo, it was almost starting to feel like home.

Tony knew the local lawyer, a geeky Irish kid called Timothy McGee, had a thing for Abby. He was a catholic boy, a learned one at that who'd spent more of his life in some dusty old library than the real world. Because of this, Tony had fully expected the lawyer to gaze from afar.

He certainly hadn't expected to find the pair in the parlour room of the house Abby shared with the sheriff, chatting quietly over what looked like tea.

'Evening Mr McGee, didn't expect to find you here.' Tony remarked.

'Mr McGee was just checking up on me after the funeral, isn't he sweet?' Abby positively cooed and the lawyer blushed. Tony couldn't help grinning.

'I was thinking we'd play a few rounds of five card draw, perhaps Mr McGee would like to join in. Do you play cards McGee?' Tony enquired after removing his hat and jacket.

'I made a study of the game in university, calculating the winning percentages of any possible hand, actually,' McGee replied smoothly. Tony paused for a moment, examining the look in the lawyer's eye. Then he laughed, was the lawyer actually jealous of him?'

'Sounds like you have a bit of competition Abby. Did you know Abby's the second best poker player in all of Glenside?'

'No, who's the first?'

'Ducky, he taught me everything I know,' Abby explained. 'Would you like some tea, Tony?'

'You know I hate the stuff Abby. Any whisky?'

'You know where it is, help yourself.'

'Uh, who is Ducky?' McGee asked, as Tony made his way to the sideboard, where Gibbs kept his whisky.

'Old Doc Mallard. Mallard's a kind of duck, apparently,' Tony replied. 'Can I get you one, McGee?' he asked, holding up the whisky.

'No thank you, Mr DiNozzo.'

The card game was closely fought, especially between McGee and Abby. McGee was often of two minds, seemingly wanting to win and impress Abby, but at pains to beat her. Tony couldn't help finding the whole thing amusing, when he wasn't sulking after every hand he lost. There were a lot of those.

After a couple of hours, Gibbs appeared. McGee and Tony bid their farewells and headed out. Tony offered to walk McGee home, the lawyer was new, and he imagined Abby would be sad if her new pet fell down a well in the dark.

When Tony had first started working for Gibbs, he'd come seriously close to being fired again in his first week. Gibbs was a marine from the civil war, an early riser and short on patience. Tony was not a morning person. He woke up when he woke up, and that was all there was to it.

Gibbs found the solution. He'd bought Tony a rooster, which now lived in a pen right next to Tony's bedroom. Now Tony never missed an opportunity to watch the sun rise over the town, whether he wanted to or not.

Gibbs was already at the sheriff's office when the deputy arrived. They saddled their horses silently before riding out towards Murphy's place. Tony thumbed through his notes and reiterated Murphy's story for Gibbs. They split at Murphy's front gate, Gibbs headed out to the western paddock where Murphy alleged his sheep had been stolen, while Tony went to wake Murphy up.

Murphy followed Tony out to the western paddock, babbling about how there was no point going there, that the thieves were long gone. All he wanted from the sheriff was for him to file a report so his boss wouldn't deduct the cost of the sheep from Murphy's wages.

'Yeah, he definitely shot his own damn sheep,' thought Tony as they found Gibbs.

'Morning, Murphy,' Gibbs said. Tony resisted the urge to smirk, Gibbs had that look in his eye. He was pretty sure the boss had already found the dead sheep.

'Morning, Sheriff.'

'You do know that there's a penalty involved in making a false report to the sheriff's office,' Gibbs continued.

'False report? Sheriff, I swear on my mother's grave, someone stole them damn sheep,' Murphy insisted, looking wild eyed from Tony to Gibbs.

'Mr Langer's suspected you've been mistreating his animals for some time. He's come to speak to me about it on more than one occasion. Going to be very upset when I tell him that I found twelve of his breeding ewes dead in the gully, Murphy,' Gibbs replied. He had little patience for silly drunks like Murphy. 'He might even think to have you charged for theft. At the very least, I suspect he'll terminate you from his employ.'

Murphy didn't stick around to listen further, he turned his horse around and kicked the poor beast into a gallop. Tony began his pursuit. After a few minutes, he noticed that Gibbs wasn't behind him. He supposed his boss was doing that thing where he circled around the chase to get in front of the runner.

Murphy disappeared around a copse of trees, suddenly Tony heard the sharp retort of a revolver. He slowed his horse up and pulled out his rifle, taking his time as he rounded the bend. Murphy hadn't been armed when he fled the western paddock only minutes ago.

The first thing Tony saw was a camp, the remains of a fire long dead. A nice looking grey mare was hobbled to one side sedately chewing on some grass. Murphy was on the ground, clutching at his leg, where he'd been shot. He must have fallen off his horse, which kept running. Tony frowned, where was the shooter?

'Deputy Sheriff Tony DiNozzo, show yourselves.' He called out, eyeing the trees, where the shooters undoubtedly hid.

'Deputy Sheriff? I would have expected a man dressed in a real silk vest to at least be the sheriff.'

Tony turned to the source of the female voice behind him, and froze. It wasn't the huge colt .45 revolver she had in her hand, or the way her curly dark hair framed her face, messy in the way hair only was after one got out of bed. It was the whole package. The overly large shirt she wore, the top buttons undone, exposing a tantalising piece of her flesh for his viewing pleasure, and the lack of any other clothing. It was the way she'd snuck up on him and the smile she wore as she examined him returning his interest.

'That... she-demon shot me! I want her prosecuted DiNozzo, I want her hung, drawn and quartered,' Murphy continued to shout abuse at the woman, snapping Tony out of his reverie.

'It was self defence. I was washing up when he just appeared out of nowhere on his horse. I just... shot him on instinct,' The woman replied with a shrug.

'Not many women I know will shoot a man on instinct,' Tony replied, intrigued.

'You must not know many real women.'

'I know plenty of real women.' Tony insisted, defensive.

'If it is okay with you, I would like to put on some pants before we continue this further,' she replied. Tony's brain shut off again as the woman marched over to her pack and pulled out a pair of pants 'Turn around, Deputy,' she ordered. Tony looked away, wondering what had gotten into him that he'd lose his senses like that. He was more than familiar with women and their bodies, he'd seen women in much greater states of undress.

Perhaps it was the way this particular one was so comfortable in front of him. He didn't think she was a prostitute, they generally didn't camp around the countryside toting big revolvers with the ease and comfort she did that .45.

'Do you have a name, ma'am?' Tony asked, as he examined the countryside, trying to cool himself off.

'Yes,' she replied.

After another minute's silence, Tony scowled. 'Care to tell me what your name is, ma'am?' he asked. There was no reply. Slowly, he turned back around, to find to his great consternation that she and her things were gone.

'Sucker,' Murphy chuckled from the ground. Tony scowled and dismounted, pulling Murphy into a sitting position.

'Shut up.'

'DiNozzo! What reason did you have for shooting Murphy?' Gibbs demanded. He pulled his horse up, Murphy's horse trailing behind.

'I didn't. There was this uh, woman, camped here. She shot Murphy when he rode through her camp.'

'Where is she?'

'Well uh, she'd been bathing at the time. So I turned around to give her a moment to change, and she was gone when I turned back,' Tony explained, feeling like a real fool. He couldn't believe that he'd been tricked by a woman.

Gibbs sighed. 'Write it up, DiNozzo,' he told the younger man. He could see that his deputy was too embarrassed to be lying. Course, this meant Gibbs had a new problem to think about. Who was this mystery woman who went camping around the countryside and shooting men?