Gunny Gibbs's Leadership Lessons
Summary: Part of my 'Lessons' series. Tag to Capitol Offence. Warning: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them.
A/N: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. Please forgive any mistakes about the 'military' parts of this story – it's my first real attempt at writing about Gunny Gibbs 'in the field' and, unlike the writers on the show, I don't have a technical advisor to help with the details!
Warning: this story contains the disciplinary spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.
Senator Patrick Kiley still wasn't entirely sure whether having Gibbs as the lead investigator was a good thing or a bad thing. He could probably count on being given the benefit of the doubt. For a while, at least. But he'd never been able to fool the Gunny for long. And the man's damnable honour would make him come down on him like a ton of bricks if he ever caught on to the deception.
As he slipped from the room, he could hear his Chief of Staff talking to the agents. Cole was telling Gibbs's man how the Gunny had made him look good, when he'd been a green lieutenant overwhelmed by his first command.
Kiley shuddered, remembering just how Gibbs had accomplished that.
X X X
Kiley finished explaining the op and straightened up from the map he'd been hunched over, stretching his back.
Gibbs, damn him, looked like he'd be amused if he weren't so disgusted by Kiley's plan, and proceeded to list all the problems he found with it. It wouldn't work. It would get them all killed. It would give the enemy an advantage that would reverse that last six weeks of effort by American forces.
Kiley stared at him in disbelief, his anger rising by the second. He was the officer here. For all that Gibbs liked to remind him how long he'd been doing this sort of thing, he was only a non-com. It wasn't his place to question his lieutenant, to try to take over control of mission objectives. His job was to do what he was told, and make sure the rest of the enlisted men did the same.
'You have your orders, Gunny,' he interrupted. 'Dismissed.'
Gibbs glared at him before grinding out an ice-laced 'Yes, Sir', turning on his heel, and storming out of the tent.
Without saluting.
Kiley fumed. It made perfect sense for military formalities to be dispensed with when they were out in the open – identifying the officer in the group in such a visible manner, when they didn't know who might be observing them unseen, would be foolish. But there was no such danger within the confines of the tent. Gibbs was being subtly, but deliberately, insubordinate, getting in a final dig to express his displeasure about his commanding officer's plan.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Gibbs was considered such a good Marine. The enlisted men seemed to respect him, it was true. But the man was a stubborn pain in the ass,
