2.

Gibbs and Tim spent their evening talking about their forged background and how they needed their dynamic to be in order to make their charade work.

'So, Boss, we going in as bait, right?' Tim asked as he was leaning in the bench at Gibbs' basement.

'That would be the best McGee, but it will be for everyone's best interest to not let it reach that point.' Gibbs walked over to McGee and put his hand on his shoulder.

'You think you can do it, Tim?' The younger man's gaze went from Gibbs' chest up to his face.

'You once said that you trust me. Was it a lie?' The hand on his shoulder moved on his neck for the expected slap. 'Of course Boss.' He said with a smile.

It was after 13.00 at the Director's Office and Vance was walking nerves getting the best of him. Gibbs was sitting on a chair while Tony and Ziva were whispering something. Tony broke after a while and started laughing over something the younger woman had said.

'Anything funny, Agent DiNozzo?'

'No, Sir. Do you think Probie changed his mind?' Before anyone answering there was a knock on the door and Tim burst in.

'Sorry I'm late but I was stopped by the Police and they didn't believe me when I said I was driving my car and that I was an NCIS agent…' he gasped. It was obvious that he had been running. He looked up waiting for an answer and four pairs of eyes staring at him. 'What?'

'Nothing Agent McGee.' Vance said. 'Nice outfit.' Tim was wearing a buggy pair of jeans with a belt with a chain, a pair of well worn trainers, a dark but colorful shirt, a black vest and an old-fashioned hat.

'I can't even start to understand why you weren't believed McGee.' Gibbs said from right behind him.

'Is that what I think it is McPanty?'

'What?' Tim hadn't had the time to look himself in the mirror after Sarah's last 'improvements' and he hadn't noticed that his underwear was slightly visible over the trousers. He hastily pulled his shirt further down and tried to hide his face. It was one embarrassing moment.

'All things considered, Agent McGee does indeed look the preferable age. Give my regards to your sister.' Vance said not really hiding his laugh.

'Come on son. We got work to do.' McGee followed his Boss silently, shoulders hunched. 'So you let Sarah design your outfit for these days.'

'It seemed preferable. At the time. Not so sure now.'

'Cheer up McGee. By the time we finish they would have forgotten it!'

'You think Boss?' Tim asked hopefully.

'Nope.'

Gibbs had driven them over to the other side of the city and despite having seen photos of the facilities it was still a big shock when they came face to face with it. Many acres of green, swimming pools, gyms, bowling rooms, games room, and a huge room in which they left their bags were showed to them by Michael Rodson. He had introduced himself as the Guide and hadn't stopped talking for over an hour after that. Gibbs was starting to lose his patience and Tim had to do something to stop that and also insure their roles.

'Let me guess…' Tim suddenly said interrupting their guide. 'You're already bored aren't you?'

'What?'

'Face it Jethro, you don't want to be here. Not with me. Why don't you go back to hide as you always did…?' Gibbs stalked Tim and pushed him against the wall improving their show for their audience.

'Listen to me, Timothy Clarkson, and try to remember. I am your father and you will refer to me as such. I'm Dad or Father and surely not Jethro.'

'Gentlemen, if you may.' A newly arrived came between them. 'I am William Davies –you may call me Bill- and I am responsible for your well being during your stay here. You have any problem with your room, your outdoors activities you come to me. I think it's too early to have a problem…'

'You'd be surprised.' Tim said moving away from Gibbs.

'Timothy!' His Boss growled at him.

'My name Father, is Tim and it has been it for more than two decades. You'll do well to remember.' He said and stormed out of the door. Gibbs turned to look at the two men with an apologetic smile.

'Well, it could have been worse.'

'We've seen worse Mr. Clarkson.'

'Please call me Jethro.'

Gibbs found McGee about an hour later talking to two young men in their early twenties.

'Tim, we need to talk.'

The young man's green eyes held anger as they rested on him and Gibbs wondered how he had ever believed his youngest agent was not good for undercover work. Tim waved his companions goodbye and set to step right next to him.

'So have you found anything?'

'Nothing so far? You?' Gibbs hadn't either.

'You were good earlier. Something you want to share?'

'No, B… Dad!'

'…You need to really look after yourself around here McGee.' Gibbs said later that night in their –huge- bedroom putting on a grey T-Shirt and looking right at Tim who was already under the covers shivering slightly. Gibbs noticed it and turned on the heat. 'The perp usually goes first for the kid having the parent watching.'

Tim pulled his head out of the covers and looked at his Boss wondering how it was possible to stand there with a thin T-shirt and not getting cold. They were going to have one freezing Christmas season. If they were to get out of there alive!

'Either way.. you're going to be there, right?' He finally asked as soon as Gibbs' words penetrated his frozen brain. His Boss nodded and sat down on the bed propping all pillows to keep his back straight before putting on his reading glasses and taking his newspapers to read.

'It's the first time I see you reading a newspaper.' Gibbs murmured something that Tim dismissed as non important before he too un-tucked his arms from under the comforter and took his laptop wondering if he could actually write anything. Lost in his typing as he was he didn't notice the speculative look his Boss was sending his way from above the reading glasses.

'Nice job this evening McGee. It was like as if you really hated me, you know.' Tim blinked and then again.

'Yes… thanks Boss.' Gibbs didn't have any other way to continue the conversation. So he let it slide for now.