Somehow, the determination borne of not wanting to hear Gibbs anger directed at him again, spurred Tim's feet fast enough, that he made it to the car before Gibbs managed to set it in drive; barely. Quickly buckling up, he then set about opening his cell phone kit. Knowing he would have to actually open his mouth to speak when he was ready for Ziva to charge it up for him, he could only send up a silent thank you that she was riding shotgun and not Tony.

Once that uncomfortable and embarrassing chore was done, with everyone else remained surprisingly quiet, the ride out to the crime scene was downright uncomfortable. Had Tim missed something? Since when did tony and Ziva not carry on or talk in the car? Oh, well, he sure wasn't gonna mess with the silence. Silence was a darn site better than being barked at or being humiliated and harassed.

The crime scene was a nice house in an even nicer neighborhood. The homes were all brick fronts and the yards were immaculate. There weren't even any unsightly cars parked on the street. Inside the house was their victim, a Navy Chief Petty Officer, dead on the living room floor, no glaring signs of struggle or break in.

"McGee, witness statements! DiNozzo, sketch and shoot! David, bag and tag!" Gibbs ordered as he took himself off to check the other rooms for evidence, once they'd cleared the house.

Everything seemed neat and tidy and it wasn't long before they'd completed their tasks in the living room and continued on throughout the house. It was nearly two hours later and Ziva, Tony and Gibbs were done processing the house. Ducky and Palmer had come, retrieved the victim and gone. McGee was finally coming back to the house, looking discouraged, exhausted and fearful as he did.

"What the hell took you so long, Dead agent walking?" Tony demanded.

"Later, DiNozzo! McGee, take this back to Abby!" Gibbs barked as he handed a laptop to Tim.

Tim took the bagged laptop from Gibbs and headed toward the car. Suddenly, the earth shifted and he and the laptop slammed into the ground, hard. It took a long minute before he regained the ability to breathe and when he did, Tim clumsily got to his feet, picking the now undoubtedly damaged laptop as he did. Once back on his feet; he continued on his trek to the car; only to be brought up short by one very pissed off boss.

"What the hell is wrong with you, McGee?" Gibbs raged.

Tim stopped and pointed to the rock he'd just tripped over, almost completely buried in the ground; sticking up just enough to catch someone unawares. "I didn't see it, Boss. I'm sorry."

"Just get in the car!" Gibbs bit out, as he turned to look for Ziva and Tony.

Hurrying out to the car, Tony and Ziva both seemed to find the very same rock Tim had tripped over; both of them stumbling over it; neither losing their balance completely, as Tim had.

Well, that's better than nothing. Tim silently cheered at the small slice of vindication he now felt. He carefully kept his eyes glued to his lap, knowing his flash of triumph would be blazing on his face and only land him in more hot water with Gibbs than he would ever get out of. He couldn't help it; his eyes gave him away all the time.

Gibbs toned his anger at the young agent down a notch, watching his other two agents trip over the same rock. It didn't stop him from being furious that the chance to the info they needed form the laptop was possibly gone. It was days like this that kept Gibbs frustrated with his computer whiz of an agent. His off days were a chore to get through.

Enroute to NCIS, Gibbs' phone rang and before they knew it, they were headed back; just two streets over from their first crime scene. The situation there was almost identical to the first; deceased Naval Petty Officer, with a gun shot to the head, weapon still in his own hand. Once again, Gibbs divvied up the tasks; in an identical fashion to the first one. He was curious to see if there was a pattern to McGee's screw-ups.

Almost two hours later and this time the only thing that was different at the second crime scene, besides the fact that there was no laptop; was that Tim seemed to be a bit quicker in his return from taking witness statements. Soon, they were once again back in the car, enroute to NCIS. Tim was more than exhausted. He was beyond fed up and more than ready to throw in the towel. Caught up in his unhappy thoughts; forgetting about the wonderful date he had on tap for tonight and should be happy about; Tim failed to see Gibbs watching him with anger and frustration.

"So, Probie, what the hell took you so long to get statements today!" Tony barked from the front passenger seat.

"Can it, DiNozzo! McGee, what did you get from the witnesses?" Gibbs demanded, purposefully keeping his eyes on the road as he waited for the answer.

"Nothing, Boss. It was one runaround after another, that's what took me so long. Every supposed witness claimed they knew someone who saw something important. And every time, it was a hoax!"

"So, you have nothing? Four hours of talking to witnesses and you have nothing?" Ziva asked in shock.

"Yeah, that's about the size of it." Tim admitted dejectedly.

"I would have gotten them to talk!" Ziva declared.

"McGee? You have absolutely nothing?" Gibbs demanded, suddenly too angry to think straight.

"No, Boss I don't have anything." Tim regretfully admitted. "But, then again there were several potential witnesses that weren't home at both locations."

Gibbs' only response was to floor the gas pedal; with gusto.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Probie." Tony offered loudly, as he hung on for dear life.

Once back on the Navy yard, Tim mentally picked his stomach up from his boots; took several deep breaths, and got out of the car. Making sure he'd pocketed his work cell phone and retrieved the phone box from the sedan, he headed toward the trunk; Tim soon had the laptop and turned to take it straight down to Abby.

"Hey, Probie, take this box of evidence down with you, since you're going that way." Tony demanded, plopping the box in Tim's unsuspecting and ill-prepared hands causing Tim to lose his grip on the laptop, cell phone box and the evidence box to slide clear on through; straight to the ground.

As every bit of evidence and the already damaged laptop hit the pavement, Tim's stomach nose-dived right along with it; all the way back down to his toes. Silently, but with the fear of death in the human form of Gibbs staring him in the face, Tim picked everything up and scurried off to Abby's lab. Watching him almost run from them, Tony and Ziva shared a smirk. Gibbs was too angry to speak and feared attempting to head-slap Tony at the moment. He didn't want to give him brain-damage. With immense self control, he settled for storming off for a good cup of fresh coffee.

Abby's ire over the state of said laptop did little to improve Tim's own feelings on the situation. Still, needing a minute to breathe, Tim chose to stay in her lab and use the time to program some important numbers into his new work cell phone instead of going straight back upstairs right now. He needed a breather, even if it was chock full of ranting Abby. After a few moments of relished freedom from Gibbs and company, Tim straightened his shoulders and headed back up to his desk. It was time to face the music this bad day had brought about.

Gibbs was pissed, the level of pissed that they all dreaded with every fiber of their beings. Tony seemed to have escaped the man's ire, having not done anything wrong today. Ziva seemed to be skating through some mistake free days herself so she was safe from the man's ire, too. No, once again, it was only McGee who had been having one of those bad days.

Jeez, it had been a hell of a bad day. Why the hell had he even bothered to get out of bed today?

Oh, right. He had a date tonight. That meant getting through the day first. Was it possible? Could he concentrate on her enough to pull himself out of this hellhole of a day? Though he knew better than to ask if this day could get any worse, he hesitated at this point to even ask if it could at some point start to go right for him. As he headed back to his desk, he feared what the rest of the day would bring.

"MCGEE! Get back to that crime scene and get the witness statements we weren't able to get earlier!" Gibbs barked angrily, his eyes burning a hole in Tim's conscience.

Yes, Boss." Tim immediately responded, standing up and reaching for his backpack. He knew what that level of anger in the boss meant. It would take a couple of cups of that coffee for Gibbs to calm down. Tim actually felt relieved he was being sent back out, alone. He didn't need or want the ridicule and snide remarks he'd undoubtedly get from the others about the lousy day he was having or the terrible, horrible mood he'd inspired in the boss. At least this way, he'd have peace and quiet in which to drive and maybe even regain his equilibrium on the day. And maybe, just maybe, he'd come back to the boss being in a better mood.

"MCGEE! Why are you still here? I want those statements on my desk in two hours!" Gibbs barked, with even more anger, if that was possible.

Tim jumped; realizing he'd frozen in place as his thoughts had been rolling. Now he scrambled for his backpack and scurried out of the man's sight before Gibbs could possible draw any more attention to the now dejected agent. Once safely in the elevator, Tim leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh of frustration. Two hours? Gibbs knows darn well that it's at least a 30 minute drive out to the crime scene to begin with! God, I hate it when Gibbs gets this unreasonable just because he's pissed! Feeling the elevator stop on the level he needed, he squared his shoulders, opened his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the task he'd been assigned.

Yeah, it had turned out to be a hell of a day, and it wasn't even the middle of the afternoon yet. Wait! Was it even past lunchtime? Because they sure hadn't stopped to get lunch. Looking at his watch, Tim groaned with the realization that it was indeed, after lunch. It was going on 1:30 and now that he had thought about it, his stomach growled menacingly, protesting at the lack of nourishment. Once behind the wheel of the agency sedan, Tim actually relaxed. He'd make a quick stop at a gas station and grab something to eat and that problem would be solved with no one back at the office any the wiser. There'd be plenty of time for him to make up the difference in the time he'd be using for the stop. But first, he would take the time to make good use of the fact that he now had a backup cell phone. Quickly, he input the team's phone numbers into his speed dial menu and put the phone back up on his visor, flipping it back up. Pocketing his work phone, he started the car and headed out.