Cuddy sighed, reaching to pick up her phone. "This is Dr. Cuddy, Dean of Medicine–"

"No kidding. There's a medivac helicopter on its way from DC with the Director of NCIS onboard. She's stable right now but in critical condition. Have Chase there to meet the medivac, and Stern or Cameron or whoever's head of the ER. And by the way, she better not be listed under the name Jenny Shepard. She's being moved so that nobody knows she survived."

"House?"

"What?"

"You don't have privileges at this hospital."

"I've been working for the US government for the last two and a half years, I'm good at dealing with bureaucratic bullshit by now, so how about we skip the pretense that you're going to do anything but what I said."

"You don't have to be that rude about it, House."

"Do you know me at all?"

"You're being worse than usual."

"You try being calm when your boss just got shot, your coworker just got shot, and your other coworker got pistol-whipped so bad he's bleeding into his brain."

"You almost sound like you care."

But he had already hung up.

Cuddy looked at her phone for a little bit, then shook her head, and picked it up to make the arrangements.

----

Gibbs sighed, sitting down at his desk. "The woman Mike says the Director saw in California was an assassination target Jenny was supposed to have killed years ago in Paris."

DiNozzo looked around, and then scooted his chair in towards the middle.

"So, there's a woman Director Shepard was supposed to kill years ago… and she thinks she successfully had Jenny assassinated…"

Ziva scooted her chair over. "She will most likely leave the country, now that she believes her target has been terminated."

"I don't think so. She knows what can happen when you don't verify your kill. She's alive because of that," said Gibbs.

"But she'd have to leave her job. She'd be too easy to trace—she's a CEO," said McGee, pushing his chair around his desk.

Gibbs banged his fist on the desk. "How is that supposed to help us?!"

"Uh, I don't know, Boss. I just…"

"You just what, McGee?!"

"Sorry. I mean—"

Gibbs pushed himself up, angrily. "Well *somebody* better find something or else hiding the Director won't have done squat!"

He stalked off to the elevator, and punched the down button violently.

----

"Tell me you have something!"

House looked up as Gibbs stormed into the morgue, as did Ducky and Palmer. Each of them stood at one body.

Ducky stepped forward. "Jethro, we're going as quickly as we can, but we haven't even finished the external exams. We won't have anything for a good while."

Gibbs scowled. "House, you're with me."

House glanced at Ducky and Palmer, then stripped off his gloves, gripped his cane, and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

The doors closed behind them, the elevator started to move, and Gibbs slammed the emergency stop switch.

House watched him pace restlessly in the small room, and then sighed, leaning against the wall. "Go ahead."

Gibbs looked at him, turned around, slammed his hands against the wall, yelling in frustration and anger and fear and grief.

House watched passively. "What have you got?"

Gibbs glared at him. "Three injured friends, an unconscious assassin, and no case!"

House was unmoved. "I said "what have you got", not what's giving you a temper tantrum."

"Three medical examiners that can't do their jobs fast enough—"

"If you just wanted to yell, you could have stopped the elevator without me in it and just yelled at the wall."

Gibbs sighed, turning to look at him, and then looking away.

House tilted his head to the side. "What have you *got*?"

"Nothing."

"And what is standing around yelling at people doing to change that?"

"Nothing."

"So shut up and go find something."

"Like what?!"

"I don't know! But stop thinking with your heart and start thinking with your head! The woman you love is hurt, and you think you could have stopped it. It sucks, I'm sorry, get over it! You're a Marine, people die in combat all the time, you can't take time to cry when everyone else is depending on you! Suck it up and get your head back in the game!"

Gibbs looked at him, surprised out of his anger.

House looked a bit uncomfortable with what had just come out of his mouth, scuffing the rubber tip of his cane with his blood-stained sneaker, no longer meeting Gibb's eyes.

"You just sounded like a Marine."

"I was raised by one, remember? I know what gets through to you nut jobs. And I'm serious, you need to stop thinking with your heart, and start thinking with your head—or at least your gut. I know you're upset that the Director is hurt, but until that woman is caught or dead, the Director is in danger of being worse than just hurt. And I know you'd be insufferable if that happened on your watch."

"I had a kid."

"I know."

"You know?"

"You don't look at kids and families like you do if you never had one. You can't miss something that bad if you've never had it. I know you had a family, and judging the fact you brought it up when I mentioned if Jenny got killed on your watch, that your family got killed, probably while you were deployed. But you're not deployed this time, you're here, and you're Gibbs. Get it together, get back to the team, and smack them all on the back of the head. Then say you're sorry, because it's not a sign of weakness when you've been an asshole and they deserve the apology. And then get your ass back to work."

"…."

"And let me get back to my work." With that, House turned the emergency stop off.

Gibbs turned it back on.

"House—"

"Save it."

"I'm sorry."

"I said save it. We've got work to do."

Gibbs shook his head, and laughed a little, turning off the emergency stop.

----

Jenny Shepard slowly opened her eyes, squinting under a bright fluorescent light.

She turned her head to look around, and found two armed guards outside the door to the hospital room she was in, and a doctorly person in a chair beside the bed.

He was fairly tall, she could see that even with him sitting down, with warm brown eyes currently fixed on a book he was reading, big, bushy eyebrows, and an incredibly ugly tie.

"Are you my doctor?"

He raised his head, shutting the book, and gave a little, nervous smile. "Uh, no… I'm not. Are you alright, do you need more pain meds?"

"No, I'm fine. Who are you then?"

"James Wilson. Uh, I'm the head of oncology. House arranged for you to be transferred here, secretly. According to the news, you were assassinated in your house last night, managing to kill all four of your attackers."

"Who are you?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Wilson blushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm… House's partner. Boyfriend. Whatever you want to call it."

She smiled at him, though the thin lines around her eyes were a little deep with pain. "I've been hoping to meet you," she said, her voice soft and friendly, "though I supposed I never imagined it would be under these circumstances."

Wilson managed a nervous smile, still rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm… glad to meet you too. Is… I know this is… I just… Is he going to be safe?"

She nodded, smiling again. "Gibbs is bound to stay with him if he has to leave headquarters. He'll be fine."

Wilson nodded, dropping his gaze.

"James?"

He raised his eyes, to meet gentle brown with gentle brown.

"Gibbs will figure this out. He'll catch the woman behind this."

Wilson nodded, but didn't stop fingering the white pill-bottle cap in his hands. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Um… I know this is random… but what kind of boat is the USS New Haven?"

"It's a Los Angles class submarine… Gibbs' team was just called out there two days ago…. Why?"

Wilson shook his head, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck.

House hated submarines—there was no headroom, they were never level, they had bars across doorways practically designed to trip crippled Medical Examiners, there was no privacy, and there was no room for a personal bubble, especially one as large as House's.

God… House had tried to explain, but he'd stormed out, so quick to assume the worst of his friend… when he was the only one of the two of them that had ever cheated on anyone.

He would really have to make it up to his friend.

Tony, Ziva and McGee looked up, as the elevator door finally opened, and Gibbs stepped out, leaving House inside to ride the elevator back down.

Gibbs looked his team over. "You three, get some rest. We aren't going to have an answer right away, not until Abby and House and Ducky finish, or the assassin wakes up. Go home, go to sleep, but keep your phones next to your beds."

"Yes Boss," said Tony, standing up.

Gibbs nodded, and walked to his desk.

When he looked up, Tony was still at his computer, Ziva was leaning over his shoulder, pointing at something, and McGee was doing something on his palm.

"Now!"

They looked at him, looked at what they were doing, and sighed.

Tony got up, pulled a pillow out of one of his desk drawers, Ziva walked across to her desk and pulled a blanket out, then walked back over to Tony's desk.

McGee got up and walked to the elevator, pushing the down button.

Gibbs watched it stop on the basement level above the parking garage—Abby's lab.

He shook his head, almost laughing a little bit.

----

McGee walked into Abby's lab and found House there, which wasn't unusual if Abby had lot of stuff to go through.

"Gibbs told us to sleep," McGee said.

Abby nodded, tossing him a purple hippo that farted when he caught it. "The futon's next to Major Mass Spec, Timmy."

McGee nodded, carrying it over into the office part of the lab, the hippo farting repeatedly as he carried it.

Abby turned back to House, who was going over one of the dead assassin's clothes with a magnifying glass—and reading glasses.

"So we're looking for where these guys have been, not so much who they are," asked House, setting down the shirt and picking up the pants.

"That's right," said Abby, "we already know from the tats you and Ducky found that they're all Russian, but that doesn't tell us anything about where their boss is."

"Knees and cuffs of their pants, and the bottoms of their shoes, then."

Abby smiled. "Yeah. And the cuffs of their jackets, and the seats of their pants."

House nodded, turning the pants he was looking at over. "Got wood in this one…"

He pulled it out with a tweezers, and dropped it into an evidence jar.

"Got some mud scrapings here… they're gray… disintegrated limestone or shale, most likely. That doesn't tell us much—it's all over the DC area."

"Got gum… lots of stuff stuck to it."

Abby came over, and House moved to the next pile of clothes.

----

Ducky sighed, leaning over the body of Viggo Dratniev. "I'm afraid, my poor fellow, that you and your confederates are… I suppose the American expression would be "messing with the wrong guy". Agent Gibbs will find your employer, and bring her to justice. And you will help me find her for him."

"Uh, Doctor?"

Ducky looked up. "Yes, Mr. Palmer?"

"I think I found something…"

Ducky walked around, to lean over where Palmer was pointing.

There was a sliver imbedded in the man's palm.

Ducky nodded. "Get this down to Abby. And get yourself some coffee while you're gone, I'm afraid this is going to be a very long night."

Palmer nodded, and left with the evidence jar. "Yes Doctor."

----

House and Abby turned around, startled by the sound of a dog barking behind them.

McGee sat up, and held his phone to his ear.

House looked at Abby, eyebrow raised. "Why's he got a dog barking as his ringtone?"

Abby smiled. "That's not any dog, that's Jethro."

House snorted. "He named his dog after Gibbs?"

"No, I did. It's a long story."

House shook his head, getting back to work.

McGee turned back to Abby and House. "The assassin woke up, and we're going to the hospital to interrogate him. House, he wants you to come."

House looked at Abby, sighed, shrugged, stripped off his gloves, and followed McGee out.

Gibbs was waiting for them in the elevator, and pushed the emergency stop as soon as the doors closed. "They said there has to be a doctor present for the interview."

House looked at him, frowning. "I'm… not gonna watch you torture him, Gibbs."

"No, you're not. You're going to stay in the room while Ziva does some very convincing things to him, but doesn't actually touch him, and you aren't going to stop the interview when his blood pressure goes through the roof because that's what being interrogated by Ziva does."

House met his eyes for a while, and then slowly nodded. "That I have no problem with."

Gibbs turned to McGee. "You stay and help Abby until we get back."

McGee opened his mouth, but Gibbs quickly said, "It's important, McGee. The chances of this guy even knowing anything, much less telling us, are pretty low."

McGee nodded.

Gibbs turned off the emergency stop, and the doors opened again, allowing McGee back into Abby's lab.

Then they rode up, part of the way, before Gibbs pushed the emergency stop again.

House looked at him, shifting his weight repeatedly.

"She's not going to hurt him. Just scare him."

House shook his head. "I'm not uncomfortable with what I'm supposed to do."

"Then why are you moving around like that?"

"I'm just plain uncomfortable."

"With what?"

House shook his head, impatiently, but also embarrassed.

Gibbs sighed. "The submarine mission… Jenny's house… this… you've barely gotten a chance to sit down."

"I'm fine. I told you, just uncomfortable."

Gibbs nodded. "If you aren't up for this—"

"I'm up for it," House snapped suddenly. "If you think just because I'm in a little pain, that I can't handle enabling an interrogation with one of the guys who put Roland, Michaels, and the Director in the hospital—"

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Just checking."

House snorted, a bit angrily, and turned the emergency stop off, glaring at the back of Gibbs' head as they rode up.

He reflected, though, as the elevator rose, that he'd really screwed up, working here.

He actually gave a damn about these people.

And even worse than that, he sometimes let it show!