When Abby stepped into the conference room, her nerves were instantly on alert. She had considered Gibbs a little gruffer on the phone than usual, sure, but hadn't dwelled on it. The moment she took in an ashen faced Tim, and a grim looking Gibbs, she was thoroughly disabused of that comfort. "Uhh…hey," she greeted nervously, "Is everything alright?" Her laugh, high pitched and nervous filtered into the room, causing McGee to flinch involuntarily. Clamping down on it, she added a meek "Or is that a stupid question?"

Gibbs, leaning against the table with his arms folded, glanced at her and then at McGee as he stood before him, his head bowed.

"Oh, I don't know," he answered, almost cordially, "I wouldn't have usually put stupid and either of your names in the same sentence, but apparently, that was a tad optimistic of me. Is that a fair assessment, would ya think?" He watched silently as Abby's face fell into lines of confusion. Glancing at Tim, she cleared her throat nervously. "Uhh…I'm not sure what you mean, Gibbs?"

A decidedly unimpressed eyebrow was raised.

"Well go on then," Gibbs barked angrily at a morose Tim, "Share your good news with Abby here."

Drawing in what he was quite sure was one of his last breaths, McGee turned to a pale lab rat. "The experiment," he muttered, "It didn't quite…you remember the potential overheating we were worried about? Well…it happened. But on a much larger scale. My desktop combusted." He turned a similar shade of pale as Abby as he watched her eyes widen in horror. "And…Gibbs had to put it out, with his…jacket."

Gibbs growled in interjection.

"My favourite jacket."

Abby felt the bottom of her stomach fall clean out. Images of the scene instantly filled her mind as dread consumed her. Looking at an expressionless Tim, she instantly knew he hadn't sold her out. Gibbs had figured it out, he always did. Swallowing deeply, she answered Tim's unspoken plea for her to use her "favourite" status in their hour of collective need. Smiling nervously at a stony faced Gibbs, she did her very best.

"Gibbs…it was literally like a one in a million chance. I know you said not to, and I know it's uhh…bad, I guess, to destroy agency property. But, you have to believe me…if it had worked, we would have sped up data analysing astronomically. The pros would have seriously outweighed any con, which obviously in this case isn't the uhh…case, but you know what I mean." She quailed under Gibbs' scorching gaze. "We're sorry," she admitted quietly, knowing the amount of official trouble they both could get in was horrifying. Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to look Gibbs into his now glacial eyes.

"This was every bit as much my fault as it was McGee's. I swear."

Tim found his voice.

"Boss, actually, being practical…I was the one who actually reprogrammed my desktop. I was the one who actually did it, not Abby. It's more my fault than hers, you told me specifically not to do it, not Abby." He sealed his fate with a sinking heart. "It's really my fault, and my fault alone Boss, please…don't blame her."

Seeing Abby open her mouth swiftly to contradict him, Gibbs raised a silencing hand.

"I blame both of you. Equally."

Abby looked relieved, in a scared sort of way, whilst Tim looked downright horrified. "But Boss," he blurted, "You-"

Gibbs held up another silencing hand, with the seismic power of a reasonable quake.

The junior agent instantly fell silent.

"Don't you dare 'but Boss' me right now Timothy McGee," Gibbs snapped, "Don't even think about it. You both planned this ridiculous…whatever the hell you want to call it. Together, in the full knowledge that I had said no. That means you are both to blame, regardless of who did the actual damned…tinkering." As bad as the situation was, Tim couldn't quite help but be affronted at his reprogramming being deemed mere tinkering. Wisely, he held his tongue.

Gibbs sighed wearily.

"If Vance gets a single whiff of this, do you two geniuses think I can wave a magic wand and make everything ok again? Is that what you think? Let me tell you, there is a limit to what I can and cannot do. Setting agency property on fire, in the middle of the bullpen, because you wanted to do some second grade experiment is seriously pushing it. You understand? It is seriously pushing it. Luckily for you, the Director isn't here today, and I should be able to keep this in house. Not that either of you two deserve it. We're facing budget cuts left, right and centre and you pair of…researchers, is it? You pair of researchers have just cost us…" he frowned. "I don't know actually, how much does one of those thingamajig things cost?"

Tim swallowed and Abby averted her gaze.

Gibbs felt the sudden and extreme need for bourbon.

"Expensive I take it?" he snarled, throwing the question to both of them.

Tim blanched, and nodded, speaking in a voice radiating with misery.

"Yes Boss."

Scrubbing his face in agitation, Gibbs took a breath. He was beyond exasperated with the pair of them. It was times like these that he was acutely grateful for Tony. He, like him, wasn't obsessed with all things electronic and didn't feel the need to dissect pieces of equipment for the hell of it. Abby and McGee however, were a different story, one that was causing him a considerable migraine.

"You realise, had you been sitting at your desk, you could have been seriously injured?"

This was directed at Tim, and it was Gibbs' main bone of contention. He didn't really care about the computer per se, but he did care about the disobedience. But the disobedience in turn paled in comparison to the idea of his youngest boy receiving a face full of fire for his efforts. He saw instantly that this thought had crossed Tim's mind already, as he nodded in chagrin and offered a muted, repentant "yes Boss."

"You two are in absolute disgrace right now, do you get that?"

Two scientific heads nodded in tandem.

"You understand exactly what you've done? The disobedience, the sneaking around? The stupidity?"

Two scientific heads nodded in a slightly slower, more abashed, tandem.

"Good," Gibbs muttered darkly, his hand instinctively reaching for the buckle of his belt. "Boss," Tim spluttered, spying the motion. "I get it, ok? I deserve that," he threw his head towards the thick leather strap, "But…please, don't use that with Abby. You never have…she didn't…I…please, Boss…not that, with her, not that…"

Abby, when Gibbs turned to look at her, was pale looking but determined.

"I should get whatever Tim gets."

Her voice didn't waver, her eye contact didn't break, and Gibbs instinctively knew she meant it.

And she was right, and Tim was right.

He had never used the belt with Abby before, and if he was quite honest, he didn't want to break tradition now. But at the same time, it would be wrong, and send entirely the wrong message for him to punish Tim more harshly than he did Abby. A sudden idea struck the team-lead, as he removed his hand from his belt buckle and nodded quietly.

"You're right," he admitted, "Both of you. Both of you deserve the same, but that doesn't necessarily mean a sore butt, much and all as you deserve it."

Tim and Abby exchanged confused looks.

"You both got your personal laptops with you? Ones you use for yourselves, at home?"

Exchanging another slow look, both nodded, not entirely sure where this was going.

"You both got fancy phones too, right? Fancier than you necessarily need?"

Looking thoroughly bewildered now, both nodded once again.

"Good," Gibbs murmured, silkily, in a way that made both Abby and Tim shiver unpleasantly. "Go and bring them to me, right now. Start with your phones, which I'm sure are near welded into your pockets." He held out his hand. "Give them over." Silence met his words, a stone cold wall of silence. Unfortunately, Gibbs was in no mood for inaction. "If I have to repeat myself, you two are going to be very sorry. Very sorry indeed."

Gulping, the two fished into their pockets and reluctantly handed over their respective pride and joy into Gibbs' awaiting grasp. He checked his watch as he pocketed the cells. "You have three and a half minutes each, to be back up here with your laptops." He cleared his throat, and glared expectantly at them when they didn't move, their mouths agape.

"Three minutes and twenty eight seconds."

The door swung open and closed before it hit three minutes and twenty six seconds.

They were both back, panting slightly, laptops under their arms within their allotted time frames.

Tim first, Abby second.

Pointing to the desk, both heeded the unspoken order, placing their top of the line computers upon it.

"Good," Gibbs said quietly, leaning against the table, arms once again across his chest as the two settled miserably in front of him. "Now, are you two aware of the programme downtown, teaching computer literacy to at risk young people? NCIS is considering sparing an agent or two, publicity and all that. Pay's minimum wage, dependant on the good will of experienced and educated people, like yourselves?"

Both shook their heads, no.

"Oh, not to worry," Gibbs replied lightly, causing both of their stomachs to drop, "You're both about to get seriously acquainted with the whole song and dance. Now, roughly, and don't either of you dare to be selective with the truth, how much would it cost to buy a new desktop…thingy? Including all the …thingies that were…uhh, put on it…by us?"

Silence ensued.

"Uhh…of that quality, including software….about eighteen hundred bucks I guess, roughly."

"Thank you, McGee," Gibbs answered cordially, causing both Tim and Abby's eyes to widen in surprise based horror. "There we are then, a benchmark isn't that wonderful?" He clapped his hands together, "So, we're going to do things slightly differently, this one time. Instead of both of you not wanting to sit for a week, you're going to be doing a lot of sitting. You are both going to volunteer your services, for minimum wage at the programme downtown, until you have, combined, worked off the total cost of repairing the computer you blew up."

He paused for breath.

"And until that happens, your own computers and cells are off limits. I know I'm no tech genius, but I also know full well you two have anything you need," he gestured to the laptops, and the cells in his pockets, "Backed up to the uhh…sky, is it? Yes, the sky. So if you need something for work purposes, you can just download the erm...sky, and use the computers here. You can both take one of my spare cells from my desk to tide you over until you get yours back."

He glanced at the pair of them, their complete and utter horror telling him he was making the right call.

"Maybe when you're both done, you'll actually appreciate the equipment that is provided here."

Standing up from the table, he raised a no nonsense brow.

"I expect to see completed sign up forms on my desk by the end of business tomorrow. Understand?"

Abby and Tim looked at each other as one might expect at a funeral. "Boss," McGee pleaded quietly, shocked at the turn of events, "Please…no. We're sorry; it'll never happen again…but please, not that. I…" he trailed off desperately, looking at Abby for help. "We are sorry," she put in croakily, but…we can't live without our babies. Please, Gibbs, don't do this to us. It would be kinder to kill us."

"The thought had crossed my mind," the eldest countered dryly, "But alas, this is my second best option."

Both stared at him dumbstruck, appalled by his creativity.

"Gibbs," Abby tried plaintively, encouraged by Tim's desperate eyes, "You can't-"

"Don't you dare attempt to tell me how I can and can't handle you pair," Gibbs thundered, silencing her effortlessly. "Any more words of complaint, out of either of you, and I'm telling you…you'll be working at that programme with a sore behind. I'll find some way of making it fair, I assure you." He straightened up fully, and glared at the pair of them. "Now, have I finally made myself clear to you? I don't particularly feel like repeating myself."

Knowing when the battle was well and truly lost, both nodded with all the glumness of one observing their most priceless possession going up in flames.

"Good," Gibbs said lightly, feeling a little saddened at the looks on their faces and the air of misery between them. Rightly or wrongly, that was why he favoured the methods he did. A scorched ass hurt, sure, but it was over the minute it was over. This time, he knew none of them could have that sense of finality, but these were different circumstances and he knew it.

They all did.

Rolling his eyes at their bowed heads and sense of despair, he reached out despite himself. Ruffling Tim's hair and pressing a kiss to Abby's, he smiled crookedly at them, his ears keening towards the door in a way theirs did not. He sighed internally, glancing subtly at the thick wooden door.

"Cheer up;" he commanded gently, "It could be worse."

Their scorching gazes of incredulity had him chuckling, his anger trickling away. With them at least.

"Well," he laughed, answering their unspoken question, speaking in a suddenly quiet voice that confused them. "I bet you twenty dollars that Tony and Ziva are outside that door right now, taking bets on what I'm going to do with you two. You know how I feel about that right, about one of you eavesdropping on the others err…correction?"

Small smiles threatened on both of their faces as they nodded.

Winking, Gibbs held up a finger to his lips as he crossed the room with the stealth of a crafty cat. Throwing open the door with extreme force, he stepped expertly out of the way and glanced down. Ziva and Tony fell head first into the room, and fought to disentangle themselves from the other, as they stared upwards in chagrin. Gibbs locked eyes with Abby and Tim, and smiled his crooked smile.

"Did I forget to mention the programme also needs cleaners?"

He reached down and grasped each of the struggling pair gently by the ear, pulling them carefully to their feet, and holding them there, one in each hand.

Winking at a slightly brightened pair of arsonists, he grinned.

"Tony and Ziva will be joining you."

…

FIN: Random silliness that popped into my head. Completed.

…