The two slightly damp agents stood staring at each other in the tiny bathroom dressed only in matching towels. With a resigned sigh, Tony moved to turn off the water.

"No wait!" McGee's brain was kicking in. "They probably have audio on us but if they are using night vision then there are only two possibilities: light amplification or infrared."

"So?"

"So if it's light amplification it's affected by humidity. If it's infrared then it's thermally sensitive and has the added bonus of poorer spatial resolution. The blanket is both an optical and thermal insulator."

"Is this leading somewhere or has some geek bomb just gone off inside your head?"

McGee shot Tony a dirty look as he leaned into the shower, cranked up the hot water and turned off the cold.

"If we steam up the bedroom and stay under the blanket they can't see details – we've almost blinded them. All we have to worry about getting the noises right." He flung the bathroom door wide open and steam billowed into the room.

Tony grabbed him by both shoulders, his face beaming. "I think I love you!" He paused, shocked. "That does not leave this room."

McGee winced sympathetically, tilting his head slightly towards where he knew the microphone would be. "I think it already has."

"Dammit."

--

When the hot water ran out, they emerged from the bathroom into the steaming tropics of their room.

"Hit the light," said Tony urgently. The room plunged into darkness transforming it into more of a dark tropical hideaway. "By the way, Mickey," Tony said very clearly, "here at the retreat, we sleep, o' natural."

"Can it Tommy," McGee warned.

Tony smirked; the sport of freaking McGee out would more than compensate for his own reservations about this assignment. He slid under the covers leaving his towel in a crumpled pile at the side of the bed. "Come to bed," he crooned.

"I'm just getting something to wear," said McGee rustling through a bag in the dark. He found something. He wasn't even sure if it was his or Tony's but it covered the important bits. He steeled himself and slid into bed next to Tony pulling the covers up around his chin.

As usually found in establishments of such quality, the mattress was nicely concave, forcing the occupants into a single groove in the center of the bed. McGee found himself sliding towards Tony and he spun to one side, grappling desperately for the edge.

Tony sidled up from behind, spooning him. "It's time to take one for the team Mickey," he whispered

McGee's mind tried to disassociate itself from his body as he felt Tony wind an arm around his chest. At least he would have an answer now when Abby asked if he had ever had an out-of-body experience. His fingers punctured the side of the mattress.

"Loosen up Mickey," Tony whispered in his ear, "Anyone would think that you don't like doing this with me."

McGee closed his eyes tightly for a moment. Tony's point was well taken but now that he came to think about it, he didn't even know what he was supposed to do. His mind had only one paradigm: boy on top, girl underneath. At a stretch, if things were a little risqué: girl on top, boy underneath. Granted his time spent with Abby had been a little more 'hinky' but when he thought of this act, there was one default picture that came to his mind. This was not it.

"I can take you just like this," Tony suggested as if reading his mind.

McGee swallowed hard. "OK," he whispered. He felt Tony sliding slowly up and down his back and he was thankful he had taken the time to put on some clothing: the physical barrier between them shielded him from the creepy sensation of Tony's hairy humidity-sweaty body, rasping up and down his own. That said, the shared warmth and the motion were starting to freak him out.

"Do it with me now," he heard Tony whisper in his ear.

Before McGee had time to ponder what that could possibly mean, he heard Tony go into his 'When Harry met Sally' routine; groaning and panting as though reaching climax. This was one adventure that was definitely not making it to the pages of his next book. He was able to get the rhythmical panting going but no matter how hard he tried, he could not squeeze out any noises. There was something caught in his throat. His throat! A horrendous image of what Tony could have shoved down his throat hit him and he gagged. Fortunately, twinned with the Tony's finale the sound made for a fairly convincing duet.

Tony peeled himself off McGee back. "That was unforgettable," he panted, almost managing to suppress the sarcasm.

"Oh yeah."

Tony rolled over and started some deep breathing. McGee guessed he was trying to feign sleep for the camera. A good plan he might try it himself.

Half and hour later, he was still awake, his fingers cramping from gripping the side of the mattress for so long. One ear was throbbing but he did not dare turn over. His body screamed for sleep but every time it attempted to claim victory he would feel the roll towards the center of the bed, start awake and renew his grasp.

Tony was against his back, all hot and sweaty; breathing long and deep. Stifling a shudder, he pulled himself so high up the side of the bed he nearly fell out. One leg jerked and he knew his body was trying to force him to sleep, conquering one limb at a time. His felt his body roll again and noted vaguely how deep and steady his breathing had become.

Somewhere in a surveillance room, Sacks' smirk widened to a full grin as he watched the last of the NCIS agents succumb to sleep. At first he had been very annoyed to discover that six months worth of surveillance had been sabotaged by NCIS. A quick call to Gibb's cell had confirmed his suspicions: someone had taken out his target of interest a day before the exchange was due to take place and no one had told him. He and Gibbs had come to an agreement: he would brief NCIS and in return they would complete the deal.

"Can I have a copy of that?" Ziva asked, watching the monitor over his shoulder.

"My pleasure."