a/n: i think y'all are gonna enjoy this one!

N: Nebulous (adjective) : (of a concept or idea) vague, unclear, or ill-defined; syn: uncertain, hazy, indefinite

Leroy Jethro Gibbs prided himself on his grandiose elevator gestures; however, he found he didn't quite like it when the tables were turned. So, when the Director slammed her hand down on the emergency stop button and backed him into a corner with an annoyed glare, he felt both wary and slightly mollified.

"Jethro," she snarled, shaking a piece of paper at him wildly. "You had one job."

He gave her a searching look, taking another step back. He blinked – to be honest, he hadn't known she was serious about the thing she'd asked him to do. He'd kind of thought she was jerking him around.

"My job's investigatin'," he retorted. "Your job is politics."

"It wasn't politics!" she snapped. "It was just a meeting!"

"On politics," he retorted stubbornly.

"No," she growled, teeth clenched tightly, "it was on budget issues – you're currently an agent, you know better than I do what we need in terms of gear, and ammunition – "

"They were just talkin' about numbers!"

"You had to listen better than that!" she shouted.

She waved the paper again.

"Instead, you sat there and doodled – "

"You really expected me to take notes on that crap, Jen?" he interrupted, starting to smirk – he thought better of that when he saw the look on her face, though. "I was damn near about to fall asleep!"

She wanted to reach out and shake him – she hadn't been able to make that particular meeting, and she'd asked Gibbs to sit in because she knew he wasn't doing anything in the bullpen, and she figured he'd be the best at not taking down a bunch of unnecessary crap.

"You should've sent McGee if you wanted a technical report," Gibbs snorted.

"I didn't want a technical report," she barked. "I wanted a straightforward account – a bulleted list," she explained. She crumpled the piece of paper he'd put in her hands a moments before she looked at it and then gone ballistic.

He shrugged, and she narrowed her eyes.

"Why did you agree to do it if you were going to be such a prick?"

He pointed to himself.

"Agree?" he quoted, arching his brows. "You made me!"

"Oh, like I ever make you do anything," she snapped wearily. She held up the paper. "Why did you do this?"

He looked at the drawing and shrugged a little.

"S'just what came to mind," he said dully.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"This? This is what came to mind?"

He gave her a funny look, wondering why she was so pissed – yeah, he'd handed her a paper with a sketch on it instead of the actual notes she'd asked for, but for some reason she was really, really losing it –

"Yeah," he grunted. "So?"

"I asked you to take notes because I figured you'd provide me with the least amount of nebulous information – "

He flung his hand out.

"That's why it came to mind," he told her insistently. "Nebulas – made me think of space and – "

"Are you telling me this happened because you don't know what nebulous means?"

He gave her an annoyed look. She turned and flipped on the elevator, jamming her finger into the button for the catwalk. She crossed her arms, the paper crumpling against her side.

"Nebulous, Jethro – it means vague, or undefined – unclear information," she snapped. "You're a no-nonsense guy; I thought you'd represent the facts the best."

He blinked.

She threw up her hands.

"I guess this is just your way of telling me to go fuck myself," she snapped angrily.

He stepped forward, taking the paper from her and smoothing it out.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Jen?" he griped. "It's fittin' – NASA gets all the money anyway – "

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, jabbing the paper with her finger.

He glared at her, and she glared at him. Then, she tilted her head slightly, and narrowed her eyes.

"What is this?" she asked, tapping the paper.

He gave her an odd look.

"What did you think it was?" he asked.

She paused.

"It looks – what is it?" she demanded again.

He shrugged.

"It's a rocket ship."

She looked from him, the drawing, and up again. Then she squinted hard at the paper. Then she flushed slightly, stepped back, and refused to look at him.

"Jen?" he asked, somewhat amused.

"I think you need to sharpen the edges of your drawings a bit more, Jethro," she said stiffly. "That is a cylindrical object with two … round … things at the base."

"Rocket ship," he repeated, looking at it again.

The elevator doors opened, and Ziva strolled on, pausing when she saw the elevator was occupied. She looked from the Director, to Gibbs, and then curiously down at the drawing. She cocked a dark eyebrow, and looked up at her boss.

"At Mossad, passing notes with male genitalia on them to the boss is frowned upon," she said coolly.

Gibbs looked down at the drawing again; it finally clicked what Jenny must have thought it was when he handed it to her – and why she'd gotten so ticked off about it. He started to grin, and then thought better of himself.

"Jen," he snorted. "Come on – " he started.

She stormed past him and snatched the paper, crumbling it into a ball, turning, and throwing it at him. Gibbs forgot to get off the elevator and follow her, and the doors shut on her retreating form.

He felt Ziva turned and look at him critically. He stared straight ahead for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

"It was a rocket ship," he said, a little perturbed to hear how sheepish he sounded.

Ziva made a small noise of derision.

"All men seem to think so."

gibbs is such a dork, i'm sorry.
-alexandra