"Usually, of course, we don't run this thing in the rain," the attendant began.

McGee closed his eyes for a moment before asking the inevitable: "Why?"

The attendant shrugged, "Bar gets too slippery, seat gets slippery and besides, who wants to ride with rain coming at their face at 100 miles an hour?"

McGee gave him a tight smile: who indeed? The rain had eased up but was still was falling at a steady rate. In the background, he could hear the sounds of the offending carriage being hauled off to the garage for Abby's perusal.

"Maybe he just slipped out?" He was only half joking.

The attendant stared at him for a moment, stunned, then shook his head and turned his attention to Gibbs.

"Described what happened," Gibbs prompted.

"He was a big guy," the attendant explained, "like him."

The index finger was aimed squarely at McGee, "and I had to jam the bar down on him."

Tony shot McGee a grin and McGee responded with a roll of his eyes.

"And we all saw him," the attendant continued in awe, "he just climbed out while it was on the up-track to the second hill and rolled out the side. Couldn't believe I was seeing it. Nobody could."

"Show us," Gibbs commanded quietly.

The attendant shook himself free of the vision and returned to his official voice.

"Welcome to Mighty Mouse, the scariest roller coaster you've ever been on," he droned.

"And where was the marine sitting?" Gibbs asked him, nonplussed by the performance.

"Back carriage," he replied.

"McGee," Gibbs ordered, "rear carriage."

McGee sighed: depressed but resolute and headed for the carriage. There was a familiar morbid finality to the whole situation. He was sill a little sore from his ballroom dancing the night before. No, he reminded himself, "personal trainer". That's what he'd put in his calendar at work and a fine Tony-friendly euphemism it too was if he did say so himself. He dreaded to think what Tony would say if he found out about his ballroom dancing lessons. Let alone the pole dancing classes.

"Please leave all bags, hats and glasses in the holding area to your right," the attendant intoned.

McGee paused, removed his hat and backpack, placed them in the required area and climbed laboriously into the rear carriage.

"What happens if someone doesn't want to give up their stuff?" he asked casually.

"Then they don't ride. It's a danger to themselves and others," the attendant had clearly repeated the speech many times.

Tony tossed his glasses on top of McGee's backpack excitedly.

"Please, Boss?" he pleaded. He was positively vibrating with anticipation.

Gibbs gave him a wry smile, "Go on," he inclined his head in the direction of the carriages.

"Alright!"

Tony leapt into the carriage in front of McGee and drummed his hands on the back of the seat in front of him. He spun to face McGee.

"Hands in the air when we reach the top, Probie!"

McGee shook his head heavily.

"Hey," Gibbs warned, "This is no joy ride, DiNozzo. When you get to that second peak I want you to have a good look around. See if there's anyway someone could have come off this thing."

"Right Boss," there was a note of sobriety but Tony's excitement still shone through.

"Hey," he said suddenly to the attendant, "Is there anyway we can stop this at the second peak?"

"It's a roller coaster, Tony," McGee pointed out, "You pull it to the top, then it coasts, hence the name."

Tony shot him a dirty look, "I was only asking, Probie," he muttered.

"So now what?" Gibbs prompted the operator.

"Now I clamp down the bars," he hit a button on the control panel and there was a hydraulic hiss as the bars of the carriage slowly lowered.

"Then I do a check to see if all the bars have locked securely." He checked Tony and McGee. "Hmm," he frowned, "the other guy was fatter, the bar cut across his stomach. I had trouble getting it to lock."

McGee gave Tony a smug smile.

"And then," he hit a switch and they were off.

It was all depressingly familiar to McGee: the long, endless climb, the creaking of the track, the groaning of the carriages. They paused at the top of the highest peak and hovered.

"See if you can get out," Tony suggested.

McGee closed his eyes in horror for a moment, but he gave the bar a tug anyway. It didn't move.

"Can't move the barrrrrrrrrrrr."

The rain stung his face like little ballistic missiles. At least he had an excuse to keep his eyes closed.

"Ok, second peak coming up," Tony's voice was almost snatched by the wind, "Quick, look out."

McGee forced his eyes open and leant slightly over the side of the carriage to see the track. It was a looooong way down. His stomach lurched and looked for somewhere to deposit its contents. He closed his eyes with a shudder and renewed his grip on the cold wet metal bar.

The downward plummet was followed up by an abrupt shift to the left. McGee slammed into the side of the coaster, his hands squeezing at the slippery bar uselessly. There was another dip which forced his stomach up into his throat where it almost made it out before he was slammed into the other side of the carriage and it rattled its way back down into place.

As the carriage levelled off and slowed to a halt, Tony turned back to McGee, his arms still raised.

"Woooo!" He whooped, "Pro….bie?"

His face froze as he laid eyes on McGee; green and wet, clinging onto the bar as if his life depended on it. He had never seen someone so miserable on a roller coaster ride. His hands lowered to a surrender position.

"Hey," he warned, "I've got a date after work tonight. Don't you dare hurl on this suit."

McGee prised his eyes open to glare at him. He didn't risk opening his mouth for fear of what might come out. The moment the attendant raised the bar, Tony was up and out, backing away from McGee in alarm. McGee sat unmoving for a moment trying to gather himself. He could feel it coming and he didn't think his muscles were supple enough to leap out of the carriage in time.

Suddenly, there was a bucket in his hands but before he had time to consider the congruity of the situation, his stomach squeezed itself into a ball and he started retching. Despite his misery, he was vaguely aware of an arm around his back with its hand supporting his forehead. Another hand was on his stomach massaging it gently to ease the cramping. It was a comforting feeling that reminded him of how his mother used to hold him as a child when he was sick. When it was over, he slowly peeling his eyes open to see Gibbs untwining himself from him and taking the bucket.

"Thanks boss," he whispered hoarsely.

On rubbery legs, he struggled from the carriage. Tony gave him a wide berth as he staggered past, shuffling sideways to keep an even distance between them. He made his way down the stairs to where Gibbs was standing in discussion with Ziva. Tony followed at a safe distance.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jen watching him. He avoided her glance. It's not as if she hadn't seen him like this before but he had sort of hoped to impress her with how mature he had become. She had always been a roller coaster aficionado. He was sure that she would get on well with Tony on that score.

Gibbs looked up as he arrived.

"Could you raise the bar?"

"Ah, no boss."

"And you didn't see anything out the sides or on the track?"

McGee swallowed hard for a moment and the acidic saliva burnt in his throat, "Ah, no but I didn't ah look long," he admitted.

Gibbs gave him his "unbelievable" look.

"Let's get out of here," he said finally stomping off into the cold night air.

The combination of darkness, the swish of the tyres on the wet road, Gibbs' unusually sedate driving, low voices in the car and a rather late night polishing off a chapter of his latest book, was having the effect of lulling him to sleep in the back seat. Suddenly, the car was stopped and Tony's voice was in his ear.

"Common' daredevil," he said, "I'm driving you home."

McGee struggled groggily from the car.

"We'll take your car," said Tony jovially.

McGee sighed. He had known he would rue the day his sister talked him into buying that Porsche.