Disclaimer: I do hold to any part of any franchise, only the storyline and other relevant literary ideas. Any similarities between the events described in this story and actual occurrences are purely coincidental. Any similarities between the characters in this story and any persons living, dead or undead are also coincidental.

A/N – This story is dedicated to my best friend and beta Hse Hissie who was partly the inspiration for this one off.

The plot bunnies attacked while our friends and I were dancing the Modern Jive (rather badly I might add – put together we have about as much grace as a heard of drunken elephants in a turkey run), and it happened to coincide with a conversation between myself and the aforementioned about NCIS as we watched the disgustingly talented instructors.

Hissie: "No way any of the guys could lift me like that – you, no problem."

Matillies: "If you were with Mark [Harmon] he could lift you no problem."

Hissie: "Rather him than DiNozzo."

Matillies: "Imagine David [McCallum] trying to lift you. Or would you rather Fornell?"

Hissie: "Uh, no – I'll stick with Gibbs thanks."

Jive Me Crazy

On the large basketball court inside the NCIS gymnasium two Jive instructors twirled effortlessly to the beat of a catchy lambda tune. They ebbed and flowed; twirling, twisting and tapping to the timing of the music. The NCIS agents from "Team Gibbs" watched, mouths agape as the instructor twirled his partner swiftly anti-clockwise before lifting her off her feet to seamlessly spin her around his head, continuing the movement as he lowered her down in front of his body before depositing her into a low dip to finish with an exaggerated flourish as they were wont to do when they had an uneducated audience.

DiNozzo's mouth was somewhere around his ankles. 'And we're supposed to be able to do that in three days? No fricken way! Whose bright idea was this anyway?'

Ziva, arms crossed in disapproval, failed to hide the bitterness in her tone. 'The Director's and he doesn't even have to do this!'She threw her hands up in typical Ziva fashion and returned to silent glowering.

'Oi! Probie!' Tony yelled across the mere eight foot gap to where McGee was hovering next to a wide-eyed Abby. 'Where's Gibbs and Ducky? Come to think of it, Autopsy Gremlin's missing too.'

McGee just shrugged and in that moment who should appear at the doors of the court but the aforementioned Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and –

'He's got a red head with him!' Tony hissed rather too loudly.

'Yes Tony, we can all see her.' Ziva chided. She was also eying off the strange woman but with far more subtly than her partner.

'Ooh, she's pretty!' Abby exclaimed, practically bouncing on the toes of her red and black spiked combat boots as she openly stared.

The woman in question, standing at around 5 foot 10, seemed dwarfed merely by Gibbs' presence. With pixie-ish features and blue/green eyes, true to form she had short red hair in much the same style as the late Director Shepard once wore. Her dress was a modest length in a dark purple, accented with silver and cut into a halter neck and her black ballet flats seemed a sensible choice given the nature of her job. Think of Liza Minnelli's last song in Cabaret. Tony certainly was...

'DiNozzo! Stop staring.' Gibbs snapped once the pair had reached the team. 'Now we're just waiting for Duck and –'

'You shan't have to wait much longer, Jethro.' The British accent was closely followed by their M.E. Doctor Mallard towing a rather sheepish looking woman who, once or twice, slightly stumbled on her way across the freshly waxed court.

She was a good two inches shorter than the Doctor and half the size with shoulder length brown hair; dark blue eyes alight and sporting a rather shy and soppy smile; as if she lived in a constant state of slight shock or fear. Her dress was cut jet black in a Spanish Flamenco style adorned with pink roses and minus the left shoulder. Her small and nimble feet were encased in black buckled heels which only increased the way she looked far younger than she really was.

Ducky started the introductions whilst tightening his grip on his companion's waist who looked suspiciously as though she would quite happily bolt either at the first chance she got or if spooked. 'May I introduce Miss Universe Carmenta,' she threaded her fingers into Ducky's hand as he spoke and merely looked even more out of place and not at all used to people.

'People usually just call me Verse.' She muttered somewhat towards the floor.

Gesturing to Gibbs' partner he continued, 'and this is Miss Cassandra-Amelia Montgomery.'

'Cazmia's probably easier.' She was almost as sullen as Gibbs, only her bright eyes and the slight tweak at the corner of her mouth gave away just how much she was enjoying herself at her partners' expense.

Gibbs took over and continued in his characteristic, 'to the point' gruffness. 'That's DiNozzo, McGee, Ziva, Abby.'

'Tony.'

'Tim.'

'Where's Palmer?' Gibbs continued.

'Not coming, I'm afraid.' Ducky answered. 'He called to say his mother was ill and had to leave.'

'Yeah right,' Tony muttered to McGee and Ziva, 'Probably heard we were dancing and chickened out – how come I didn't think of that?'

McGee, ignoring Tony's train of thought, began a half hearted conversation, addressing the new arrivals, 'So where are you two from?'

It was Cazmia who answered 'Australia –' before being cut off.

'A little hole in the ground where nothing much ever happens.' Verse had muttered rather non-plused.

'- so we came over here.' Cazmia continued seeming quite used to Verse's muttered asides. 'And before you ask, no we don't ride kangaroos and koalas don't make good pets.'

Tony closed his mouth again.

'Don't pay much attention to Verse, we've been friends since high school – she's never been a people person and all I've heard for pretty much the last thirty years has been Doctor Mallard, Doctor Mallard, Doctor Mallard. Either that or Illya Kuryakin. Ever since that stupid conference in Melbourne which she didn't want to go to anyway. She complained the entire way and the entire time there until I dragged her into the pathology seminar and we both know what happened then.'

Verse blushed scarlet and Ducky pulled her even tighter against his shoulder.

'I should have left her with the Existentialists.' Cazmia laughed.

'It wasn't exactly what you would call a very interesting conference.' The Doctor added in half defence.

'You're that old?' Tony practically gagged. 'OW!' Gibbs' hand silenced the Senior Field Agent, at least for the moment.

The instructors took their cue to step in before any real bloodshed could begin. If looks could kill, there would be at least four corpses cluttering the court. 'Right, now that we're all here, we may as well get started. I'm Mark and this is my partner April.'

Only Gibbs managed to pick up on the look of slight surprise that momentarily crossed the Doctor's face.

'We've been instructed by your Director to have you all ready to Jive at the Federal Organisations Gathering on Saturday.'

'He he. FOG.' Cazmia returned Verse's smirk.

'So what I'm gonna get you to do first is to make a line of couples so the guys are facing that way. ' Mark gestured his left. 'Guys, you take your instructions from me – ladies when I talk, ignore me. I know it's gonna be difficult.'

Ziva and Abby giggled.

'You are to listen to April. So, left to right handhold – don't grip your partners hand; imagine you're holding a coffee cup.'

Gibbs's team smirked and did their best to avoid their Boss' glare.

The couples went thus: Gibbs and Cazmia, Ducky and Verse, McGee and Abby, Tony and Ziva. Tony looked rather worried that his first mistake or stepped on foot would result in death by paperclip or worse – a week of Ziva's driving.

'Okay everyone, follow my lead.'

The next two hours or so resulted in a bruised shin for McGee, after which Abby ditched her boots; a possibly dislocated shoulder for Tony after Ziva punched him for stepping on her foot 'for the LAST TIME!', Gibbs and Cazmia, despite all odds had shown up the rest of the NCIS employees put together and Ducky was nursing a very painful knee, lower back and arm from near constantly being obliged to catch Verse every time she overbalanced, slipped and/or completely fell. Verse, for her part, had managed only to sprain her right ankle and bruise her entire behind.

Mark and April, in true persevering spirit had given up attempting to teach the disorderly agents and had gone for morning tea and coffee, leaving them to more or less fend for themselves since they had effectively proved there are whole new meanings to the phrases "Well it seemed like a good idea at the time", "It's better to quit while you're ahead" and "How do I inject dignity into the word 'help'?"

The Director was not going to be pleased...