Tony was the first to react, "I'm getting lunch", he announced, "My treat, new hamburger joint opened up. Probie?"

McGee's eyes flitted from Tony to Gibbs and back. There was something very artificial about Tony's offer.

"Ahh, OK, I guess."

"Great", said Tony turning to Gibbs again, "Nice greasy hamburgers", he whispered with a grin.

McGee's stomach churned as he tried to digest the enormous greasy hamburger that Tony had bought him for lunch. He was getting more suspicious by the moment. His hamburger seemed to be bagged separately from the others and none of the others seemed to drip quite as much as his. In fact, the others looked smaller, almost as if there was only salad on them.

He was equally suspicious of Tony's "Eat up, McGee" urgings every few minutes. It made him feel for Hansel and Gretel.

A rumble clawed its way up his esophageus, emerging as a painful burp which he attempted, unsuccessfully, to stifle.

"Excuse me", he mumbled. He was getting downright nauseous.

Tony shot Gibbs a happy grin and Gibbs acknowledged him with a small salute before standing abruptly.

"DiNozz, McGee, get your coats", he said, "we're off to Norfolk."

McGee's head shot up in horror, "Boss that's a long drive…"

"You used to do it at all times of the morning when Abby was waiting at the other end", Tony reminded him.

McGee blanched, "It's not that, it's just, I'm a …the hamburger doesn't seem to be agreeing with me…"

"We'll get you a bag", Gibbs dismissed him, "I need you down there".

"Yes, sir", he relented unhappily, swallowing hard to keep whatever was trying to escape from his stomach at bay, "Just so long as we don't have to go on any boats."

"Not a chance", Gibbs assured him.

"Ships: yes, Boats: no", Gibbs muttered to Tony with a wry smile as he headed for the elevator, "Gotta learn to tell the difference."

Tony loved his job.

The trip to Norfolk was 193 miles of pure hell. A hot stuffy car and Gibbs driving compounded the problem. McGee stared resolutely out the window, lips clamped together not daring to speak. Excess saliva kept pooling in his mouth and he found himself swallowing several times a minute just to keep up. A few, thankfully non-productive burps managed to squeeze their way out, but on the whole, he managed to keep the partly digested hamburger slime safely inside.

He was beyond relieved when they finally pulled into the parking lot and lept out of the car before Gibbs had even killed the engine. Gibbs and Tony emerged more slowly, Tony going around to the trunk to extract three bags. He tossed one to Gibbs and the other to McGee.

"What's this for?" McGee asked him.

"You'll need it", Tony assured him.

"Why?"

"Come, on", Gibbs urged heading towards the ship which was obviously preparing to leave; "we don't want to miss our SHIP".

McGee took two steps before he processed what Gibbs had said then he back peddled into Tony.

"Boarding, Boss?" he panicked, "On?"

Tony had him by the shoulders and was pushing him forcefully towards the ship in question.

"B..b…but I don't have my Dramamine, you need to take it hours before..", he took a sudden side step to escaped from Tony's embrace and turned to call to Gibbs up ahead in the distance.

"Boss, please", he pleaded.

Gibbs turned and walked back to where McGee was standing panic stricken.

"We need someone to infiltrate sickbay McGee", he said in a low voice, "It has to be convincing. We'll wire you up; all you got to do is stay there."

McGee was shaking his head slowly in horror, "No", he whimpered.

Tony slapped him on the back, "We want you to give it up for the team, McGee".

"You think this is funny?" McGee turned on him, "How would you like it if he sent you out to be car sick 'for the team'?"

"But he's not", Tony reminded him, "He's putting his faith in you."

He pointed his finger into McGee's chest where it was swatted away.

McGee appealed once more to Gibbs, "Please, sir, boss, it just feels terrible.."

Gibbs felt for the man, but he felt more for the three victims that had already left this ship in body bags.

"It's only for a couple of days", he said consolingly.

"Days!"

"McGee!" Gibbs snapped, "It's an order: On the ship now."

There was a moment when McGee genuinely thought of running. He was sure Tony could take him down in a few meters and then Gibbs would probably shoot him. Then he'd either be dead of carted off to a nice landlocked hospital. He weighed up the pros and cons of his options. Then he considered what would actually happen: Gibbs would probably just take out his kneecaps or something then they'd drag him on board anyway. He surrendered to his fate. Wordlessly, he pushed past Gibbs and Tony and headed for the ship.

The queasiness amplified itself ten fold as he set foot on the gang plank and he very nearly turned back, damn the consequences. Instead he grasped the railing firmly and hoisted himself along the narrow walkway hoping to distract himself from the rising nausea with the feel of cold metal under his hand. He noticed the water beneath. He considered jumping. Maybe he could get crushed by the bulk of the ship on the way down.

They stood at the head of the gang plank while Gibbs exchanged documents with the person in charge.

"How's it going, Probie?" Tony whispered in his ear.

To McGee's surprise there seemed to be some concern in Tony's tone.

"I wouldn't stand too close", he warned.

"This way", Gibbs directed and shot off down a staircase.

Once they had reached the cramped quarters and dumped their bags, Gibbs ordered McGee to sit.

"We're going to wire you up," he informed McGee, unpacking some electronic equipment from one of the bags.

He leant close to McGee and then stopped. McGee was already looking pale and sweaty: He was shaping up well.

"How you feeling," he asked lightly, concentrating hard on the placement of the equipment.

"Dizzy", McGee replied loosening his tie and undoing his top button, "and hot. It's stuffy in here". He swallowed hard and yawned widely.

"Can you hold it together until we see the captain?"

McGee held up a hand and moved back from Gibbs, holding his fist to his mouth. A gut-wrenching burp racked him.

"How long will that be?" he asked relaxing his hands again.

"Not long", Gibbs assured him, "we report to him after we set sail".

Gibbs stepped back to admire his own handy work as McGee undertook another painful burp. His stomach rumblings echoed around the cabin.

"I don't know if I can last that long, Boss", said McGee weakly.

"Do your best", Gibbs patted him on the back as he straightened out; "I just want something nice and spectacular. Something no one will doubt."

"No problems there, Boss", McGee assured him stifling another yawn.

Gibbs stood. "Why don't you just lie down here for a bit and Tony and I will go topside and snoop around a bit."

McGee nodded dumbly and toppled gently to one side curling his knees up and holding his stomach.

"We'll come and get you at show time", Gibbs assured him.

As the walked back through the maze of corridors, Tony voiced something that had been bugging him: "Boss, isn't lying down in a small room with no windows like the worst thing you can do when you're…"

He stopped as he met Gibbs wicked grin.

"Oh", he said.