Chapter 2 – A date with a head

McGee strode confidently into the bullpen with Gibbs, dressed in a brand new McGee suit, shadowing his every move. His peripheral vision caught Tony's computer game disappearing from the screen. No wonder Gibbs always knew what was going on; the guy had 360 degree vision. Somewhere in the background, he heard a pin drop onto the carpeted floor but he ignored it, it was playtime.

"DiNozzo," he growled, whacking Tony on the back of the head.

Wow, what a rush! Head whacking felt really good. The sweet impression of Tony's head echoed on his palm. He ached for another excuse to whack him again.

"What?" asked Tony with feigned innocence.

McGee broke out of his ecstasy, trying to recall his excuse for the head whack. "That's for not beating McGee's score," he grumbled.

When Tony did nothing to justify continued wrath, McGee regretfully headed for his own desk until he realised his mistake and made a slight course correction colliding with Gibbs who had made the anti-parallel mistake.

"McGee!" Ziva said in surprise. "You cut your hair."

"Yeah, it was really starting to get on my nerves," Gibbs said pointedly at McGee.

"Oh finally," Ziva sighed in relief.

"What do you mean?" McGee asked, from his vantage point at Gibbs' desk.

"That hair flick was like a bad shampoo commercial: it was embarrassing. It drove me what is it? Cashews? Almonds?"

"Nuts," Tony offered. "Me too – then when he slicks it back, he looks like Scotty in Season 1 Star Trek."

McGee was stunned momentarily. "How do you know about Star Trek?"

Tony mirrored the stunned expression back at McGee. "How do you, Boss?"

McGee swallowed nervously and his eyes sought Gibbs who was shrugging guiltily.

"I do own a TV, DiNozzo," he tried.

Gibbs shook his head with small vigorous motions.

"Until my ex got it," McGee went for the save only to see Gibbs cringing across the room.

"Well even at that length, that hair will still blow in the wind and get in his eyes," Ziva moaned.

McGee pouted for a split second until he realised how strange that would look on Gibbs. 'Perhaps he should tame it with an orange tea-cosy,' he thought vindictively. "I kind of liked it long," he said out loud.

Tony and Ziva exchanged glances.

"You feeling OK, Boss?" asked Tony.

"At least McGee's not checking out hair rejuvenation products in victim's bathrooms," McGee pointed out in his best Gibbs sarcastic tone.

"How did you know about…." Tony started.

McGee wondered the same thing. He had no idea how he knew, he just did. Gibbs truly was psychic. McGee smiled – he liked being the boss.

Gibbs' computer dinged at him and he gave the mouse a friendly wiggle: 500 unread messages appeared on the screen. He sighed and immediately began creating folders to file the various messages. Wow, he never got emails with titles like THAT from the Director. There was a word he'd never even seen before. He went to click on it to satisfy his curiosity.

Suddenly Gibbs was at his shoulder. "Need any help?" he offered.

"Nope," McGee said urgently. He fumbled with the mouse, keenly aware of how thin the ice had just become. "I'm just filing them not reading them."

"OK," Gibbs said quietly.

Gibbs was only halfway back to McGee's desk when Tony cut him off.

"So Probie," Tony began.

Gibbs screeched to a halt in the middle of the bullpen and gave Tony the look he had perfected on his own face for so many years. He was pleased to see the power came from within. Tony's mouth snapped shut, his eyes opened wide in fear and slowly, very slowly, he backed away to the safety of his desk.

McGee looked up suddenly – his gut was telling him Abby was about to have some important information for him. He lurched from his chair and headed back to the elevator. "With Abby," he called on his way out. "Com'on, McGee."

McGee and Gibbs waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive. When it finally made an appearance, they jostled for the doorway. So intent was McGee on stabbing the button that would take him to Abby and possible autonomy that he failed to notice the elevator's sole occupant: an athletically built older woman. Nor did he see the look of unmitigated fear Gibbs was running up his face in warning.

The moment the elevator door slid shut, McGee felt a small hand grasp his buttock.

"Anyone would think you were ignoring me, Jethro," a voice crooned in his ear.