McGee woke suddenly. He was panting, sweaty and oh my God the bed was wet! He had dreamt of Doris, a naked, lustful and extremely flexible Doris willing, able and oh, stop thinking about this, its not helping.
He sat up in bed. It was 2am and the night was cool and particularly dark. He took a deep breath and tried to make sense of what had just happened. She was young, vulnerable and looked up to him like no one had ever done. It was a teacher/student relationship. Maybe he was a latent paedophile… He stopped himself. This was getting silly. She was a woman who liked him, that was enough to get his male brain into gear: No, not that brain, the other one.
He rolled out of bed and flicked on the light. He was soaking. Everything was covered in sticky, salty and now cold liquid. It was 2am, and he needed a shower desperately. He stripped the bed and took everything to the bathroom where we added his pyjamas to the pile and stepped into the shower. He rested his head against the shower wall letting the warm water run down his back. He felt much more at ease now, in fact downright sleepy. He turned off the shower, dried himself off and headed back to the bedroom. The sheets were gone. Sighing, he went to the linen cupboard, dragged out the sleeping and dragged it to the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed he pulled the sleeping bag around his shoulders and immediately dropped into a sound and dreamless sleep.
He found it difficult to look Doris in the eye then next morning and was more than a little taken aback when she approached his desk purposefully.
"I suppose you heard about the email", she started.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, it wasn't me it's just, well, um", OK, he was just dealing out random words; he had nothing useful to say.
"It's been a great help," she said happily.
Somewhere in McGee's mind, he heard tires screeching to a halt.
"Excuse me?" he said knitting his eyebrows.
"Now none of the guys hit on me because they think I'm taken. It's such a relief."
He stared at her, stunned, searching for any evidence of sarcasm. "It's really that bad?" he said finally.
"Oh yeah, I've been considering wearing a wedding ring just to scare them off, but now I don't have to. Anyway, I just came to say thanks." And she turned and almost skipped over to her desk leaving McGee sitting open mouthed.
"Probie," called Tony, both McGee and Doris looked up in surprise, Tony had perfected Gibbs stalking.
Tony looked from one to the other, "I'm just gonna say 'Probies' from now on, OK?"
McGee frowned at him but Tony ignored him. "What about the second anus listing?"
"Oh more names", said Doris efficiently, "The same number as the first which suggest some sort of correlation."
"Abby managed to trace the explosives to a fireworks shop", McGee continued, "They could have sold the stuff to anyone, but Abby lifted a print that didn't match either of the two marines and she's looking for a match right now".
McGee's phone rang and he snatched it eagerly, "McGee", he snapped. Tucking the phone into his ear with his shoulder he scribbled furiously before thanking the caller and slamming down the receiver.
"Abby's got a match", he said excitedly, it's a spook and we have an address.
"Let's roll", said Tony.