Tim sat cross-legged on the floor, shoving the last of his stuff into his backpack.

He'd tried explaining to Gibbs that 'orienteering', for Youth Rangers, was a foot-race as well as a map-reading problem, and that minimal gear was usually carried. It wasn't meant to be a Marine land-nav exercise carried out with 40lb packs.

Gibbs had all-too-reasonably pointed out that organised orienteering events come with officials and first-aid stations and people who know if you are missing too long, and that it was sheer stupidity to head into a national forest without appropriate equipment when there wasn't that kind of infrastructure in place. After chewing him out for apparently planning to take a bunch of kids out for a hike without the ability to deal with a skinned knee, much less a genuine crisis, his boss had ordered him to be 'ready', whatever that meant.

As he tested the weight of the over-stuffed bag, McGee figured that he was probably as close as he'd ever get to satisfying the former Marine.

When Gibbs knocked on his door promptly at 6, Tim grabbed his bag and keys, expecting that they would leave right away. Instead, Gibbs stepped into his overcrowded living-room, relieved him of the backpack, and emptied it onto the floor.

'Hey!'

'Gotta check your kit, McGee. Can't do that if I can't see what you've got in here.'

McGee struggled to contain his outrage as Gibbs poked through the pile of stuff, arranging most of it back in the bag more neatly than he'd managed himself. Just great, he thought, Gibbs thinks he's back in the Corps, and I'm the idiot recruit who needs extra attention.

An umbrella and, to Tim's relief, a large, rather heavy, tarp, were tossed unceremoniously to one side.

'You got a couple of big plastic garbage bags, McGee?'

'Uh, sure, I think so...'

'Good, grab a few of them. You can use them for waterproofing, if you need them. They're lighter than the tarp to carry, and since we're only planning to be out for a few hours, you only need to bring enough to get by in an emergency, not set up a luxury camp.'

McGee headed for the kitchen to find the bags, deciding not to comment on Gibbs's definition of 'luxury'.

He returned to find Gibbs holding up his flashlight.

'You got extra batteries for this?'

'It doesn't use batteries, Boss. You wind it up.'

McGee took the device from Gibbs and demonstrated.

'Huh. Guess you don't need to carry batteries, then.'

McGee felt a small surge of pride as the flashlight went into a side pocket of the bag. Gibbs seemed genuinely impressed by the unfamiliar gizmo. There's the boss's holiday gift sorted, he thought.

Gibbs's nod of approval at the matches sealed in a zip-lock sandwich bag further increased Tim's confidence that he might make it through the day, after all.

'That's good, McGee. Let's see your utility belt.'

His what? Tim's growing confidence wilted again.

'If you need to drop the pack to make better time, you're gonna need the basics on you. Here.'

Gibbs pulled a folded-up nylon belt out of a paper bag he'd been carrying, which Tim hadn't really noticed before. McGee blushed, realising that his boss had clearly expected him not to be prepared. He took the proffered item, and, curiosity winning out, zipped open the pockets. He found a lighter, water purification tablets, energy bars, and a few basic first-aid items, all in zip-lock bags, and a neatly folded thin plastic drop-cloth. Finding an empty pouch, he retrieved his pocket knife from his backpack and zipped it in.

Gibbs nodded his approval, and indicated a loop on one side of the belt.

'Good. Now you just put your canteen here when you get out of the car, and you're all set.'

McGee paled.

'Uh, Boss... I have bottled water in my bag, but I don't think there's any way to attach...'

He stopped, watching with embarrassment as Gibbs reached into his shopping bag again and handed him a stainless-steel water bottle. A D-ring was already secured to the loop at the top of the bottle, and the bottle itself was clearly the right size to fit into the harness-like straps on the utility belt.

'Fill that up, and let's get out of here.'

Mumbling his thanks, Tim returned to the kitchen to fill the bottle. As he hefted the backpack onto his shoulder and struggled to manage the utility belt, water bottle and his keys, he wondered if there was still any way to get out of this.

'C'mon, McGee, we're burning daylight. Let's go!'

To Tim's surprise, the words were not so much impatient as they were... excited?

Certain that his boss's enthusiasm did not bode well for his own survival, Tim followed him reluctantly into the hall.