When Gibbs walked into Vance's office, he was spoiling for a fight. In most situations, he only used his ability to read minds when they were on a case and even then only on the witnesses or suspects. Use it too often on your friends and co-workers and you were liable to find yourself alone and out of a job. Besides, just the threat of it was usually enough to ensure that anyone who knew what he could do was truthful around him. One good death stare and his team invariably fessed up. They might be dysfunctional but they weren't stupid.

He did, however, make an exception for sudden conference calls from the Director. As any marine could tell you, your weapons didn't do you any good unless you were willing to use them. No matter how much he had started to respect Vance, he was still the brass and the brass was always the enemy. Any good Gunny could tell you that. So he had pried into Vance's mind and knew, even before he entered the office, that he was not going to like what Vance had to say.

Vance took one look at Gibbs' scowling face and knew what he had done. He could have complained but decided not to make a difficult situation any worse.

"So I take it you already know why I called you in here?"

"Yup." Maybe it was a result of his own ability to fill in the blanks but Gibbs had never seen a reason to give away any more than necessary in a conversation.

"Sometimes I don't know why I even bother to call you since you insist on reading my mind every time I do. It certainly can't be because I hope to change your mind. Even when you seem to listen to me you just go off and do your own thing anyway."

Gibbs didn't feel like these statements needed a response so he just continued to regard the director with his implacable stare.

"This time isn't going to be any different, is it?"

"Nope."

"Well, you might want to think again. Since you already helped yourself to the details I won't say more than that the FBI is sniffing around your team. They claim to have had reports of some odd occurrences but I think the fact that your solve rate is starting to get attention is what really has their panties in a wad."

"Let 'em wonder. What are they going to do about it anyway?"

"See now, that's why I'm the director." Vance ignored Gibbs' snort of dismissal and continued, "How long did it take you to put together your team? Years, right. Well I can tell you it would be taken apart in days if anyone outside this agency gets wind of what they can do. Someone would yell 'national security' and none of your people would ever be heard from again."

"It's not like we advertise," was Gibbs' response.

"You won't have to. I get the feeling my counterpart at the FBI is determined to embarrass us. Like I said, I don't think he knows much but he hates that we're stealing his thunder. They'd sacrifice the most successful team in federal law enforcement in a second if it would get them a bigger piece of the limelight ... they'll be watching you."

"Damn Feebies. Forget the limelight. Hell, they'd sacrifice us if someone promised to shine a flashlight up their ass," said Gibbs, admitting that Vance had a point. "We'll be careful."

"You'll be more than careful. Until the FBI loses interest I want you to restrict your team to normal investigative methods unless absolutely necessary," said Vance without much hope that Gibbs would obey.

"And who decides what's necessary?" asked Gibbs.

"I do."

Gibbs snorted and turned to leave the office. If they weren't such a successful team I would never tolerate this, thought Vance. I might also be just a little afraid of them and I really don't want to think about the damage they could do running around loose.

"Got that right," said Gibbs and smiled as he walked through the door.

"Damn it Gibbs! If your not gonna listen the least you could do is refrain from reading my mind." There was no reply because Gibbs had already left. "I know you *heard* me, you ornery bastard," was the parting shot he threw at the closed door.

Gibbs made his way down to the bullpen to find that Tony was the only one of his agents in residence.

"Where is everyone ... we need to talk," he said.

"Well, Tim's in Abby's lab and Ziva's still watching our suspect ..."

"Alone? I thought I told you to go with her."

"Uhm ... boss ... you sent our little Israeli voyeur to do surveillance on a guy who claims to be a sex therapist but is really just a male gigolo."

"So? You could have stayed outside."

"Yeah, right ... and miss all the action? Ziva grabbed my hand, went invisible and stationed us in the bedroom. She was getting so excited, and gripping my hand so hard, I figured I'd better get out of there before she decided she wanted to hang on to another part of my anatomy."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Don't be mad, boss. You did tell her to watch him. And it was kinda educational." Tony got a faraway look in his eyes and smiled as he remembered a particularly interesting scene.

THWAP! Gibbs smacked the back of Tony's head, returning him to reality.

"DiNozzo, if you try to get within ten feet of me with Saran Wrap you'll be sleeping in the basement. Alone."

"Aww, Gibbs, you have no sense of adventure."

"Get her back here," ordered Gibbs as he turned and headed for the elevator, "And tell her to be very careful when she rematerializes. The FBI is watching us. If you need me I'll be in the lab."

"On it boss," said Tony. "Hey, boss, you might want to knock before you go in the lab," he yelled after Gibbs but he was too late. The elevator door had already closed.

Gibbs barged through the lab doors to find Abby hard at work typing frantically on a laptop while McGee watched her intently. A perfectly normal scene except for the fact that Abby was working topless.

"What the HELL is going on here," bellowed Gibbs.

"Hi Gibbs," said Abby completely unperturbed by her state of undress, "I'm just keeping Tim distracted."

"I can see that." Gibbs looked over at McGee in the hope of an explanation but Tim had blushed a deep crimson and appeared incapable of talking. "Put your damn shirt on and tell me what's going on," he said as he turned back to Abby.

Abby donned her lab coat and started to explain. "Tim went into the victim's laptop but there was a virus that shut it off as soon as someone tried to get unauthorized access and he caught it. Every time he thinks about the case or the computer he falls asleep."

"I thought you figured out how to take care of these things, McGee?" asked Gibbs.

The younger agent opened his mouth to reply but before he could his eyes glazed over and he slumped onto the table, sound asleep.

"See what I mean," said Abby, "As long as he was looking at my boobs, he was distracted enough to help me write a patch for the problem."

"How do you wake him up?"

"Easy, I just have to reboot him."

"Reboot him?"

"Well ... more like I just plain boot him," said the Goth with a smile as she hauled off and kicked Tim with a vinyl clad foot. "Personally, I think he likes it."

Gibbs shook his head in exasperation. "Just fix the problem, I don't want to know how, then come up to the bullpen. We need to have a conference."

McGee had finally fully regained consciousness and ran to catch Gibbs before he left. "Boss, I just want you to know we weren't doing anything. We wouldn't ... well, we would ... uhm, we do ... but not at the office."

"You do know you're just making it worse, don't you?" said Gibbs with a wry look before he left McGee standing there.

"How much trouble do you think we're in?" asked Tim as he returned to his seat.

"Oh, he never punishes me," said Abby blithely, removing her lab coat once again and going back to work on the computer. "He knows better than to argue with success. Now feast your eyes so we can get back to work before I freeze."