WOW I'm excited about this one. I can't drabble long, have to upload this before I get caught on the computer (I'm meant to be asleep), but as always thanks a great bucket load for the reviews! Every single one warms my heart.

Dorothy4, thankyou for reassuring me on the Tylenol issue xD

It was 2am when the ex-sniper, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, slowly plodded down the steps to his basement. The smell of sawdust filled his nostrils, immediately calming his nerves. It was here where he felt most at home - not the loungeroom, the kitchen or his bedroom - the cool, badly lit basement filled by a half built boat. Gibbs walked up to his beloved project, running a hand over the smooth wood, before turning to the table and pulling out an old jar full of screws. He produced an almost empty bottle of bourbon and tipped the screws out with his other hand simultaneously. Soon enough the dedicated NCIS special agent was sanding out the rough patch in his boat and sipping away at the bourbon swishing around in a dusty old jar. Usually this old habit of his would have Gibbs relaxed and thinking clearly. Not tonight though. Tonight was different. Not even his favourite past time was quite enough to settle Gibbs' famous gut tonight.

It was an hour later that he got a visitor. The wood had long since turned smooth under Gibbs' touch, but he had continued to sand the same spot absentmindedly. It was something to do with his hands while absorbed in his own thoughts. What brought him out of his reverie was a knock on the door to the basement.

"Hello? The front door was unlocked."

Gibbs looked up from his handy work to see two people at the top of the stairs - his neighbours, a young couple who had only recently moved in.

"Yeah, it always is," replied Gibbs. "What can I do for you at 3 in the morning?" His voice was calm enough. As if this were normal. As if the whole day had been normal.

The woman, Hannah he thought her name was, started to walk down the stairs, her husband following close behind. Gibbs wasn't so sure about him either, but the name Jack came to mind. He'd never really had a conversation with newlyweds.

"Well we've got a bit of a problem, see," started Hannah casually, "and we hate to bother you, only…"

"Only we can't really put it off. On a bit of a time schedule, you see." Jack finished, reaching out to the boat and studying the craftsmanship.

"Must be one hell of a schedule," commented Gibbs, leaning against the work bench. His hand rested on the drawer where he kept his sniper rifle, his other hand carelessly hanging by the gun in his holster, which he'd never bothered to take off.

Jack's hand fell away from the boat, and the couple looked directly at him, their faces turning serious. "You have no idea," replied the man, his eyes flashing black. Hannah's eyes darkened too, and the young neighbours grinned sadistically.


"So what exactly are we waiting for?" asked Tony as he dug into a muesli bar he had proudly found in the back seat of the classic Chevrolet Impala. It was parked opposite the boss's house, blending into the darkness of the night.

"You know, Sam's going to be pissed you ate that," said Dean from the driver's seat.

He heard a muffled "so?" through mouthfuls of muesli.

"So, he's going to blame me."

"Then I don't see the problem," grinned Tony.

"Yeah, you won't be the one with a beer bottle glued to your hand."

Tony laughed. "He actually did that?"

"It's one of his favourite moves," grimaced Dean.

Tony's face turned serious as he studied the eldest Winchester. "You guys are pretty close, huh?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess. You kinda have to be, growing up like we did."

"Which was..?"

"Going across the country from one crappy motel and school to the next, learning how shoot at 10, melting any gifts of silver into bullets…" Dean smirked humourlessly as Tony let out a low whistle.

"Makes my dad seem like a fun guy."

"And anyway, he's my little brother, you know?" continued Dean. "I've always had to look out for him. Ever since our mum was killed in Sammy's nursery and I carried him away from the fire, it's been like my job."

"Sounds like a real barrel of laughs."

Dean smiled. "I never minded. I was so excited when I was told I'd be getting a little brother. Besides, the way we were always moving around, it was good to have a constant friend. And Sam may be a bitch at times, but he's a good kid. Watching out for him… It's just what I do." There was a moment of silence in the car, each man lost in his own thoughts. "It's been a bit harder to do lately, though," muttered Dean under his breath. Tony got the feeling he hadn't meant to say it out loud, so he didn't press. He checked the time, reading 2:30 by his watch. Stifling a yawn, Tony went back to rummaging around in the backseat looking for more of Sam's snacks to steal.

Dean looked out the window at the house across the street. Still no movement. This didn't calm his nerves. Sam's visions were still as accurate as ever. The fact that he was sitting there alive was proof enough.

Sam's latest vision had been a tough one to explain. The brothers had just finished convincing an entire team of trained federal agents that there were supernatural beings, and that those beings were evil. To then bring up the fact that Sam had such a strong connection to said evil… Well, it wouldn't have gone down well. Of course Gibbs had wanted to know how Sam knew about the boat, and the basement. Dean couldn't quite lie through his teeth on this matter, but he managed to twist the truth slightly. While Sam had walked off to splash some water on his face, Dean explained Sam was a psychic who had trained himself to focus on the Yellow-Eyed Demon's movements. This brought on a fair amount of skepticism - demons and ghosts aside, Sam did not look like the palm reading type - but they managed to slide off the hook. Gibbs had still been suspicious, Dean could tell by the way the older man scrutinised the brothers afterwards, but he didn't say anything. He was trusting them for now, which was all they needed.

Dean heard a satisfied "ha!" as Tony found another bar. Returning to the passenger's seat, Tony grinned and tore open the packaging like a man starved for three days. "McGee would love to turn this into a book," said Tony suddenly, as if stumbling across this realisation.

"He's a writer?" asked Dean, surprised.

"He likes to think so," grumbled Tony sourly. "Goes by the pen name Tom E Gemcity."

Dean's eyes widened. "Deep Six?"

Tony groaned. "Don't tell me you read that crap."

"Hell no man, the most literature I enjoy is the articles in Busty Asian Beauties."

"Aw, how good was the last issue? That chick on page 5…"

"Definitely!" agreed Dean with a grin. "Anyway, I think Sam read that Gemcity book once. The kid can never get enough novels."

"Those two geeks would make great friends," commented Tony. There was another silence, a slightly more comfortable one as Tony's watch stated 2:45am.

Eventually Dean asked, "How does Gibbs get the boat out?"

"Damned if I know."


Sam was crouching silently at the top of Gibbs' stairs near the bedroom, the Colt held firmly in his hands. When he warily informed Gibbs that he was soon to be visited by a pair of demons, the federal investigator had been pretty adamant about carrying a kill-anything-and-everything gun. But there was no way the brothers were handing it over. Killing the SOB was their job, and no matter how great a shot Gibbs was, they were not risking the final bullet to someone who wasn't even a hunter. Of course there was more to it then that. When that Yellow Eyed monster went down, it would be by a Winchester's hand. That was just the way it had to be, the way it had always been planned.

Sam smirked as he remembered going to the NCIS evidence garage to pick up their weapons, and of course, Dean's 'baby'. Agent DiNozzo had looked on enviously as Dean turned the key and revved the engine. The look on his face was one Sam would remember for a long time.

The younger hunter looked up to see where Ziva was standing behind the wall opposite, by the stairs like he was. He had to admire her spirit. It wasn't even 24 hours since she had discovered the existence of the supernatural, yet there she was, standing in the same ready, fighting stance as she had been for the past 45 minutes, her face calm and set. Standing just behind her was McGee, looking just as focused. Ordinary cops or not, this was a professional team. He could tell they were nervous - hell, even now Sam still got an inkling of nerves! But they were handling it extremely well. If he and Dean had to get involved with a bunch of feds, he was glad it was this bunch. Looking back to Ziva, Sam saw her face contort with worry as she seemed to be fighting some inner battle.

"You doing ok?" asked Sam in a whisper. Really, there was no need to be so quiet yet, the demons from his vision hadn't yet shown up, but Dean had always mocked him for being overly cautious. Sam would always point out how many times that trait had saved their asses, and that usually shut Dean up.

"I am fine," reassured Ziva quietly with a small nod. "Just… surprised at myself I guess." Sam raised his eyebrows. "I'm so worried for Gibbs, and I…" she looked down as if ashamed. "I am not used to being so reliant on other people." McGee continued to stay silent, watching Ziva out of the corner of his eye.

"Nothing wrong with relying on others," said Sam, shaking his head.

"Such co-dependency can get yourself killed," Ziva hissed. "I have seen it happen before."

"It can also save your life," countered Sam. "I've seen that happen before. Trust me."

"Your brother?" asked McGee, his first input into the murmured conversation.

Sam nodded, but his head twitched to the stairs and the front door before he could say anything else. A young couple walked in, not bothering to knock or call out. They looked at each other, smiling confidently, before heading straight for the stairs to the basement. Sam put his finger to his lips, not even glancing at the agents. He waited until the two demons had begun to descend the stairs out of sight before he slowly edged down the set of stairs they had been hiding behind on the top floor. Ziva and McGee followed, guns at the ready. Dean and Sam had emphasised how useless normal guns would be, but the agents seemed more reassured to have them anyway. The team had at least agreed to carrying holy water in their holster. Sam had just made it to the doorway of the basement stairs, hearing talking below, when Dean and Tony came silently through the open front door. Dean was carrying a fuel container full of holy water, Tony a shotgun full of salt shells. Really, that wouldn't do much to the demons, though probably more then normal guns would. And he had been so excited to use a 'monster weapon' as he put it. Said it reminded him of Alien Vs Predator or something.

Sam and Dean nodded to each other as if agreeing to some unspoken plan. Dean entered the basement first, followed by Sam, and the three agents bringing up the rear. To be honest, Sam was amazed the first step didn't creak and give them away.

"You have no idea," said one of the demons to Gibbs, obviously in the middle of a conversation. Why are demons always so chatty? There was no time to ponder the thought as the tense silence shattered, all with a simple creak from the eighth step. The two demons turned quickly to the stairs, their eyes widening as they saw five armed people entering the basement.

The woman made the first move, bringing up a hand to send all of them crashing through the banister and onto the dusty basement floor. This, however, meant she had momentarily forgotten about Gibbs. There was a high pitched scream sure to wake the neighbours as an entire bucket of holy water hidden under the table was chucked on her. She fell to the ground, writhing in pain, uncomfortably similar to the way Tony had earlier- only this was ten times worse. Sam immediately began chanting latin as he pulled himself off the floor, but the man was quick to react. Waving his hand, he sent Sam flying across the room and crashing into the opposite wall.

"Sam!" Dean yelled angrily. They all jumped up, Tony shooting salt shells right into the demon's back. The demon was moved several metres, crashing into the boat and ripping a hole into Gibbs' hard work. Turning, he hissed angrily and raised his hand to Tony, who began to float slightly, grappling at his throat as if being choked.

"Oh no you don't!" Gibbs and Dean shouted simultaneously. Dean was quickest, unloading the holy water onto the man who screamed, almost as high pitched as the woman, who herself was now beginning to recover from her attack. She marched towards Ziva, physically reaching for her neck, but Agent David dodged the hand and punched the woman in the face, breaking her nose. Of course, this left the demon unfazed and she once again reached for Ziva. Dean looked over at McGee, shouting, "now!"

McGee began rambling Latin from a piece of paper held in front of him, as Dean and Gibbs poured the last of the holy water onto the demonic couple. Sam picked himself up from the ground, stumbling over as he began to chant in time with McGee. The two demons were outmatched, on their knees with their hands over their ears desperately, as if to block out the exorcism. It did them no good. Suddenly, as one, they looked up to the ceiling and their mouths opened inhumanly wide, black smoke spurting out like a swarm of locusts. The black smoke swirled into a big mass above the group of fighters, flying chaotically around for a moment before disappearing through the roof.

There was a moment of shocked stillness before the team practically collapsed with relief. Dean walked up to Sam and checked his head, which was bleeding from the crash earlier. Sam just edged away and told him to "back off."

"Come on Sammy, don't be a bitch."

"Says the jerk." The two brothers grinned.

"That was…" Said McGee, finding no real words to describe what had just happened.

"Insane," provided Ziva breathlessly. Tony looked to Gibbs, a lopsided grin on his face.

"You seemed pretty worried for me before, Boss."

Gibbs looked back to Tony, his face neutral but his breathing heavy. "What are you talking about DiNozzo? I was just pissed he damaged my boat." Tony's face fell and Gibbs couldn't quite hide his smirk.

The relief from all could be felt in the air.

PHOOFT.

OK, PLEASE READ:

First off, no this story isn't finished yet, I just didn't want to leave you guys on yet another cliff hanger. I'm too nice :)

Secondly, I so enjoyed writing this fight scene! But I'm really curious to know what you think, good or bad, I want advice or the future. So please give me your honest opinion.

Lastly, I'm working the next few days so I can't promise I will update very soon. But I will ASAP. Promise.

Thanks again for all your support!