Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. There will either be one or two chapters after this, and then I'm done. Longest actually plot filled fic I've ever written. Go me!

"Timothy! I'm afraid I can't add anything to the autopsy report, except our Petty Officer died at approximately the same time as the first victim reported the attack as occurring, both between 2300 and 2330 hours."

"Alright Ducky. Just thought I'd ask…" McGee looked uncertain for a moment, biting his lip before adding, "Do you think I could ever be a field man?"

Ducky looked genuinely shocked. "Of course you could. Dare I ask, why the sudden shake in confidence?"

"It's nothing." McGee shook his head and walked toward the door, abruptly turning back, "Well, actually, it's just, Gibbs would rather go undercover as a gay man than trust me in the field with Tony. He never goes undercover, unless he absolutely has to, and this just feels… Forget it."

"Timothy, stop. Do you want to know why you get surveillance duty rather than undercover work? Look at the team. Anthony is brilliant undercover, plus he knows the area. He's the logical choice. So, either you or Jethro had to stay in the van with Ziva, and one of you had to go to the club. Do you really think Jethro and Ziva could work the equipment necessary?"

McGee's expression cleared slightly. "You really think that's it?"

"Of course." Ducky answered comfortingly, conveniently omitting the other reason he could see. Jethro didn't want anyone other than him putting their hands on Tony, not even his completely straight co-worker.

He patted McGee on the shoulder, smiling as the man finally looked less unhappy. "Sorry I came in here and unloaded on you, Ducky."

"Don't distress yourself, Timothy. What else are friends for?"

The younger man smiled and left, waving at the doctor as he went.

This meant that he wasn't looking where he was walking, and, as luck would have it, neither was the very unamused looking Gibbs.

McGee eeped as he realised who he'd ran into, frantically patting down his boss before the man growled and pushed him away.

"Don't you have work to do?" Gibbs rumbled menacingly, smirking as he watched McGee nod and almost run away. His relationship with Tony had meant a far less irritable Gibbs, but it was nice to know he still had it when he tried.

"My goodness Jethro, what's wrong with you?" Ducky exclaimed, and Gibbs remembered the source of his ill humour.

"This." His voice was almost shouting, and Ducky winced slightly as Jethro brandished a pair of leather pants in the doctor's face.

"Honestly Jethro, they can't be that bad. Why did you get them if you hate them so much?"

Gibbs' voice dropped to the sullen tones of a sulky two year old as he replied, "I got sick of waiting, told them to pick whatever they wanted."

"Then I can't really sympathise Jethro, you should have known better than to let Abigail choose what she liked."

"I thought Tony would stop her from getting anything too…" He waved a hand in the direction of the offending pants, unable to even articulate what he thought.

"Let me get this straight, you thought young Anthony would stop Abigail from putting you in leather?"

Gibbs nodded, looking well aware of how idiotic the idea had been.

"And you've come down here to sulk, thinking I would feel sorry for you."

Gibbs nodded again.

"You may stay if you so desire, but you'll have to put on Haz-mat gear, I have an inexplicable death that might be contagious."

"No, I'll just go make sure everything's going well in preparation for tonight. Bye Ducky."

"Jethro…" The silver haired man stopped and stared back at Ducky, who was struggling into his suit. "Be careful tonight."

"I always am Ducky. Always am."

He walked out, without talking any further to his friend. He snuck up on Tony, just to witness that slightly annoyed, slightly scared, and slightly turned on face he made when he worked out that Gibbs had stood behind him without his knowledge.

After snapping at the three of them, Gibbs realised exactly how bored he was. All his reports were up to date for once, he couldn't really help with the technical mumbo-jumbo, and Abby was working some other case.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes Boss?" The Italian man looked up as Gibbs beckoned imperiously.

"I need a work out. Ziva, you want to adjudicate?" Ziva looked over her empty desk before shrugging and following them to the gym's boxing area. McGee was left alone to finish the set up, and, unofficially, to gather the bets from the other agents. He didn't think Gibbs knew about it, but he was fairly certain Tony had an idea. Even the Madam Director had joined in a couple of times, on the sly.

DiNozzo was fast, young, and flexible. He also stole a fair few moves from crappy movies, most of which meant he ended up on his ass in practices, but the few that worked, really worked.

Gibbs was older, but had more practice, and had so many dirty tricks up his sleeve the average agent was surprised he could fit his arm in there. There was also the Gibbs factor, which meant he didn't like to lose, ever, and if he had to run five miles a day? No problem.

In short, they were the two best. No one else would fight them, and they were so evenly matched, the betting was always fast and furious.

So, it was no surprise when they came back two hours later, looking exhausted. The smug smirk on Gibbs' face told the room who'd won, and everyone went to the break room to either collect their winnings, or gripe about DiNozzo's showing.

Only Ducky and Abby knew exactly how much enjoyment the pair got out of testing themselves, except for possibly Ziva, who was the one usually chosen as umpire, under the not unreasonable assumption that she wouldn't stop anything that wasn't actually fatal.

Once, when she had been on vacation, a man who was at the gym already was chosen at random. They never did that again, not after having 911 called because two men were trying to kill each other.

The rest of the afternoon was spent looking over cold cases.

Everyone hated looking over the old cases with a fresh eye, hoping that this time, maybe something might pop out, leading them to the murderer, but knowing inside that the likelihood was low.

Unfortunately, it was necessary, and occasionally, paid off.

Gibbs repressed a sigh as he looked over a case that had been dead for two years. Surreptitiously glancing at his watch, he noted with satisfaction that it was time to go get into their gear, and report to Jen.

Despite having worked under cover with Gibbs before, and being involved a little more, he got the feeling the Director of NCIS, Jen Sheppard, didn't think he could handle playing the role of a gay man who was involved with DiNozzo.

He suppressed a smirk, imagining the look on her face if she ever realised it wasn't a role.

"McGee, Ziva! What wires are we going to have tonight?"

Despite the Israeli woman's frequent claims that she wasn't scared of him, she hung back, looking slightly intimidated and leaving McGee to reply.

"Just mikes, Boss. No cameras necessary, the sting'll happen in our sight."

"Alright, get organised. DiNozzo, we need to go get ready, you two make sure everything is ready to roll."

Choruses of 'Yes Boss' were heard from around the room, and Gibbs smiled grimly with the satisfaction that comes from knowing a job is going properly.

As he and Tony got in the elevator, Gibbs allowed his hand to rest on the younger man's back for a moment longer than propriety would demand. Propriety be damned though, it was always hard to keep from touching his young lover at work. Head slaps and fights only did so much.

Once in the changing rooms, Gibbs struggled into his pants, still looking at the leather material with a wary disgust that Tony struggled, and failed, to hide his amusement at.

Once he saw what Tony was wearing though, he had no more complaints about their disguises, drawing in the sight of the sexy man in his tight forest green shirt and faded jeans with the appreciation they definitely deserved.

Tony was, if possible, even more enamoured at the sight of Gibbs in black leather and a loose silk shirt, the midnight blue open to reveal a silver ring on a chain, matching the one Tony kept on his fingers at all times.

"Don't see why I had to wear the leather." Gibbs still sulked, though more out of habit than anything.

"Because otherwise everyone in the club would see me in leather, and I believe last time I wore pants like that, you told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't allowed to wear them outside our bedroom…"

Gibbs smirked slightly, acknowledging the truth, and remembering his reaction to Tony in leather.

"We better go report to Madam Director." Tony noted Gibbs' change of subject, and he smiled slightly, realising that victory went to him this bout.

As they walked through the bullpen, the whole agency stopped to gape. Sure, it was common knowledge that Gibbs was pretty good looking, and Tony was definitely the most attractive man there, but the sight of the pair dressed up to go out was certainly going to fuel more than a few fantasies.

"Hey Boss? Bet you get asked out by a couple of the office staff. At least three."

Gibbs snickered. "No way. They're all terrified of me. You'll get at least eight though."

"Well, I'm sure we can find something to bet with." The wink Tony shot him made it very clear what he was referring to, and Gibbs had to concentrate for a moment to keep the leather pants from revealing anything.

Although, with the look Tony was giving the pants as he walked up the stairs behind him, maybe leather wasn't so bad.

In fact, he might keep these pants, even if Tony and Abs would never shut up about it.

After all, Gibbs was sure he could find somewhere appropriate to wear them.