The phone had been ringing nonstop after receiving the good-to-go orders. Convincing Leon hadn't taken much once his two best agents laid out the plan. Giving his okay, he made sure to let Jack know she owed him a drink the next time he was in California.

"Don't even pretend you don't know why," he responded as she'd started arguing. To Gibbs's surprise, she'd blushed a shade of beet that reached her ears.

"Shut it, Leon," she said, disconnecting the call to the sound of his laughter.

Leaning back in his chair, Gibbs looked up from the phone, "Bet that's an interesting story, care to share?"

Moving close, she leaned in and whispered, "You're right. It's a damn good story." "Too bad you don't get to hear it," she finished patting his chest and leaving the room, much to his disappointment.

The plan the team had put together was straightforward. The autopsy report showed victims had been killed somewhere between two to twelve hours before being discovered on the beach. Leading them to believe they had a chance of catching him if they were in place by the 27th. Because the victims were not from Seal Beach, Jack had concluded the killer was targeting people visiting the beach.

"We think he is targeting weekend travelers staying near the area who at some point go to the beach. It's too much of a coincidence that not a single victim is from the town."

"Rule 39, no such thing as a coincidence," Gibbs cut in, shrugging at the furrowed brow and side glance she gave him at the interruption.

"As I was saying, this creep is identifying his victims as navy personnel and knows they don't live in the area, he must be observing the area for several days before the murders."

Meeting his Boss's eyes to gauge her reaction to the situation, Nash confirmed, "So you'll need a hotel room for the weekend?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Thursday through Sunday. We know he will kill on or before the 29th, so we want to cover that window." Three days, I'm going to be sharing a room with him for three days. The turmoil she was feeling didn't show as she continued, "We're looking for someone personable, friendly, maybe a surfer. He blends in with the beachgoers; takes the time to find his victims." Taking in the stern faces around her, she finished, "It's a simple plan. Gibbs and I will be just what he is looking for, a Navy couple enjoying their weekend at the beach." "We have two days, let's get to work."

In the days that followed, the upswing in activity at the office was noticeable even to visitors.

Agents were coming and going-all with questions and requests for Jack. Struck by her pose, Gibbs couldn't help but stand back and take it in. To the untrained eye, what looked like chaos was, in fact, a system she and her team had perfected over the years. The ebb and flow of agents and techs coming and going showed, despite the mocking the L.A agency received for their laid-back, surfer's lifestyle, it was all a ruse. When it came to their work, Jack and her team demonstrated why NCIS held the highest proficiency rating across all agencies.

Nash and Jamal were at the top of the list when it came to appreciating who their Boss was. They knew their leader well, understood what she wanted from them, and didn't disappoint—demonstrating what Grace would call balance. Balance in life and work.

Scrutinizing the way the team worked together, Gibbs was struck by the way they stayed grounded, given the severe nature of the work. Sometimes their humor turned dark, but he knew they used it to cope with the seriousness of the case, not allowing it to darken who they were. Someone, he would guess their psychologist team leader, had taught them well. It was the very thing Grace had been working with him on for the past five years. He couldn't help but admire the work and the woman.

Nothing seemed to faze her. Gibbs' response to the inquiries she was receiving would have been a squinted stare that made the questionnaire turn and leave. Jack? She charmed. When the techs came with a list of questions, she smiled her appreciation, thanked the techs for their work—all while laying out her thoughts for the backstory.

Eyes twinkling, "Let's make Gibbs the one in the Navy, you don't mind being the bait, do you, Gibbs?"

"You want me to have Leon send me my uniform?" "I hear I dazzle in it," he smirked.

Ignoring him, she answered the techs, "No, uniform. Keep him casual; hat, t-shirt." Looking at him, she continued, "he already screams military, just look at his hair." Taking in his less than amused face caused her to want to tease him more. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought.

The techs, use to her banter, thanked her as they got to work, finishing the last few items they needed to be ready. This type of interaction was the norm for the team. Disagreements that arose rarely turned into full-blown arguments. Surprising everyone, there had only been one disagreement that had turned to a dispute between the two lead agents. It had taken place the day before they were going undercover

"FBI is coming in today for a final update, we need to be ready to show them what we have by three," she'd told the team.

"Who'd they assign?" he asked, looking up as he shuffled the papers on his newly assigned desk.

Not willing to give him full eye contact, she answered, "His names Bobby, have you heard of him?"

"Don't think so, he ever work in D.C?"

"No, no, I don't think he has."

Not missing the knowing looks Jamal and Nash were giving each other, he tried shifting the conversation away from whatever had her suddenly on edge. "So, why do we need the FBI's help at all?"

The chime of the elevator, and the occupant that emerged, temporarily stopped the conversation. Jack's raised eyebrows and a swift shake of her head had Gibbs sitting down at his desk. Bobby, he assumed, had just walked into the squad room.

Thirty minutes later, he was heated. Jamal and Nash had wisely offered to walk Bobby out and get themselves some coffee. Getting onto the elevator, they watched as Gibbs got up and headed over to her desk.

"Jack, you can't be serious!"

"What would you have me do?" she defended, coming from around her desk. "You heard him; we need the extra manpower for surveillance."

Standing in the middle of the squad room, close enough she could feel his breath, he argued, "There's got to be a better way. They're going to take this case from you as soon as you have a solid suspect; you've got to see that."

"You think I don't know he is going to try to take this case?" she said, hands fisting at her sides. "It's not going to happen. I won't let it."

"But Sloane-y," he mocked, "You and Bobby, you're a special team. Remember how well you worked together on the smuggling case?"

"That was a long time ago, Gibbs, back off." Eyes steadily, meeting his, she finished, "He's a good agent. The FBI stays."

He was wise not to push any further. He'd already overstepped, letting his jealousy over the tan-faced agent show. With a sigh of surrender, he held up his hands.

"You're the Boss, Boss."

Before responding, she took a breath of her own to calm her racing heart, "It's been a long day, I think it's time to call it," she said, leaning onto her desk. "You going to be ready tomorrow?"

Offering her a small smile, he assured, "We're ready. A helluva team you got, Jack. You'd fit in well in D.C."

The admiration for her team helped ease the tension that had built. "Thanks," "Let's see if you still feel that way in three days. Proximity has a way of bringing all kinds of things to the surface." Some things that I'm going to have to work hard to hide she realized. "I'll see you in the morning, Gibbs; we'll go over any last-minute details before check-in at 4."

"I've got it, Jack, don't worry," he smiled, "it's going to work." Heading for the elevator, he threw over his shoulder, "Night." With a sigh, he leaned his head against the wall of the elevator. This was going to be a long weekend if he couldn't reign in his reactions to her. She's going to be close, so you better get it figured out.

The next afternoon, Gibbs stepped off the elevator, grabbing their luggage, and following Jack to the room, they would call theirs for the next three days. Coming in, he was pleased to see a couch that looked comfortable enough to claim. The room also had a king-size bed that seemed to take up half the space, a small mini bar, and a balcony that offered a stunning view of the Pacific.

Taking in their new surroundings, he commented, "Not bad, definitely had worse."

"Room or partner?" she asked half-joking.

Eyebrow arched, and making no guise for the desire that sprung to his eyes, he answered. "You've seen my file, a definite improvement." Invading her space and lifting her hair into his hands, he continued, "She smells a lot better too." Dropping her hair, he stood taking her in, his face soft as he admired the sun-dress, and the sunnier person wearing it. "Yes, much better," he said, eyes soaking in the warmth coming from hers and the deep swallow she took.

The thump of his bag dropping off the couch broke their spell, giving Jack a chance to calm her nerves as she looked from the ditched bag, back to the bed. Trying hard to stop the blush at his proximity and topic, she assured him, "The beds plenty big for both of us," "No reason to sleep on the couch."

Stepping away from her and placing her suitcase on the bed, he shrugged, "Don't mind the couch, reminds me of home."

She knew and appreciated what he was trying to do. They needed to be comfortable with each other; it wouldn't do to have either of them unable to play their part once they left the room. He also wanted her to know he respected her space. I'm just not sure how much space I want him to give me.

"Should we head down to the beach?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Take a walk on the pier? I hear it's a great view," he smiled, remembering their first meeting.

"Y-yes," "Let me just grab a sweater, the evenings get chilly here."

Sweater in place, Gibbs offered his hand. Staring, she momentarily forgot what she was supposed to be doing, it's just a hand, Jack, take it, she ordered her muddled brain.

"Jack," he chuckled as they walked down the corridor towards the elevator, "you want to lighten your grip, we're just takin' a walk."

"Ass," she muttered, loosening her hand, only to feel him give it a gentle squeeze.

Taking the short walk towards the pier, they noted the other agents. Nash and two FBI agents would be monitoring those coming and going from the hotel. Jamal, Bobby, and his agents would be keeping eyes on the beach, parking lot, and surrounding businesses. They all had strict orders to watch and not engage. They didn't want to scare the killer off. Gibbs was hoping Bobby would be anywhere but the beach. Deciding against wires to communicate with them, they would instead check in each evening from their room. With the various cameras they had in play, the support team would be able to take pictures of everyone they saw. There was enough personnel around to reach them quickly should an emergency arise. Otherwise, it was a phone call or text.

Their goal tonight was to be visible at the beach and to observe. The rest of the team would gather still images from the surveillance cameras to compare as the weekend continued.

Walking hand-in-hand, the conversation was light, just another couple taking an evening stroll enjoying each other's company.

"So what can you tell me about these rules you keep quoting," she asked, as they reached the beginning of the long pier.

Stopping, he leaned back against the rail, "Not much to tell. Rules I live by, my own guide book you could say."

"So, you have a rule about everything?" she asked, a hint of flirtation.

Not meaning to be vague, he answered, "Most are for work, but there's some... .," noticing Jack's sudden interest at the activity over his shoulder, he paused. Reaching for her hand, he stepped behind her, whispering as he kept his voice light, "What do you see?"

Pressed against her back, he wrapped his arms around either side of her holding onto the railing. Leaning into his chest, she couldn't help but feel his warmth as she quietly spoke.

"A man, he went under the pier, it's probably just a teenager, but he looked shifty, kept looking around."

Leaning in and nuzzling her ear, he asked, "You sure you haven't read my rules somewhere, Jack?"

"Wh-What are you talking about, of course not."

"Rule 35-always watch the watchers," he said, turning her around to face him, and get a better look of where she had said he went. "Was he with anyone else," he asked, leaning in close enough to feather the question over her lips, giving the impression of an embrace.

"It didn't look like it, should we go check it out?" she answered, unable to stop herself from licking her lips as she stared into his penetrating eyes.

Drawn to her motion, he paused, staring at her lips a moment longer than necessary. Showing a small smirk, he grabbed her hand, "Let's head down to the beach, there's something I want to show you."

Laughing, she played her part, hanging onto his arm as he led her under the pier. Backing her against a column, he looked down into her eyes, "You see him anywhere?"

"There's someone to my right, not sure if it's him," she replied, leaning her head back and giving him a coaxing smile.

"He with anyone else?" he asked, nuzzling her neck, and hearing a small whimper escape her lips.

Pulling him flush to her body and running her hands up his back into his hair, her hot breath on his ear sent a jolt straight to his stomach.

"It's him, yes, I see someone else, but I can't see what they are doing." "Shit," she said, causing him to still his breathing. "They're moving Gibbs, they're coming this way."

He hated that his back was to what they were trying to see. Knowing he had to trust what she was seeing, he hoped Jack would have the same trust in him for what he was about to do. As if it was second nature, something they had done a thousand times, he pulled her hips to his. Eyes meeting hers, he whispered, "trust me," before lowering his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Her soft encouraging lips had him quickly deepening the kiss nipping at her lower lip. He was unsure if the moan he heard was his or hers, but he was relieved that her body relaxed into his as she returned the fierceness of his kiss.

Jack could see them getting closer and knew she had to sell their act. Are you acting, Jack, she challenged, pushing the thought from her mind as she enjoyed the sweetness of his lips. Running her tongue against his lips, she asked for entry, which he gladly granted, not even trying to stop his moan this time, as she explored his mouth.

It was about then that the man, and what Jack now realized was a woman, passed by, barely giving them the time of day. They took in the couple in a heated embrace, gave each other knowing looks, and started laughing. "The same idea we had babe," the man said, as they left the area.

The laughter they heard and the need for air had them pulling apart. Jack rested her head on his chest, not ready to meet his eyes. "So, I guess he was shifty-looking for a different reason. Sorry about that."

"Jack, rule six, never say you're sorry, a sign of weakness." He grinned down at her, "Think I can forgive you, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," he said, receiving a slap to his chest and laughter.

"Always the ass," she said, walking away from him.

"Come on," he said, capturing her hand, "We need to get some photos of visitors, let's go grab some dinner. I saw a place that looks promising; you ever been to Clancy's?"

"What?" he asked, confused by her reaction.

"Nothing," she smiled, "Clancy's sound great, their steak and bourbon are amazing."