"Hollis Mann…I hope you like your meds…because you're gonna get one hell of a dose!"

Jenny was currently rooting through an evidence locker, having been so excited about finally having a plausible plan she had keyed in the entry code wrong twice, her fingers shaking with anticipation. To the casual observer, she probably looked a little like an addict with ADHD, the way she kept flicking from place to place, but the only thing she was addicted to was getting rid of the one woman standing in her way, and what's the harm in that?

She bent over a little further to get deeper into a hopeful-looking box, a box which looked like it contained illegal narcotics confiscated from a date-rapist who had been apprehended last month. Not that date-rape was really in her mind, but still, they should do the trick nicely. Bending even more, her trousers rode up uncomfortably – really, they were too tight, and she had been thinking all morning that the material was giving out, but an inspection in the mirror had revealed no rips that she could see. Besides, she had chosen these trousers specially, because today she was finally going to get Mann out of the picture, and she wanted to get ahead in seducing Jethro, hence the large amount of leaning and bending she had been doing for the entire morning. She liked to think it had been having the desired effect, in fact, it had almost made him uncomfortable – or at least that was how it appeared. But she knew the real reason.

"Alright, what the hell is with that mad boss of yours?"

"Hol…I…you…what?"

"Jethro, the woman is wearing trousers so tight I'm learning gynaecology just looking at her, and has done so much bending over you'd think she was warming up for a major gymnastic event. Now, either someone round here hired the director's hooker doppelganger, or she's a few sips short of a bottle, if you know what I mean."

Gibbs sighed…he really did not have time to deal with Hollis' crazed insecurities and suspicions about Jenny today. That said, she had been a little…well…over enthusiastic today. Never mind camel toe, think the entire damn leg he mused to himself, and was instantly surprised at his feelings. Although she had actually made him quite uncomfortable with that ridiculous outfit, and she was indeed behaving like a monkey on heat. An attractive redheaded monkey, but a monkey nonetheless. Do I have some sort of monkey thing? No, wait, the insanity round this place is starting to ru-

"Jethro!"

He looked up.

"Yes, Hol?"

"Where the hell were you?"

"Uhhh…case. Case is more important. McGee, start going through phone records, and DiNozzo, I want you on that trail…"

"Just a spoonful of a sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go do-own, the medicine go down, just a spoo-"

Jenny stopped, having suddenly become aware of the fact that she was singing like a demented drunkard. Instead, she decided to focus all of her efforts on going through the boxes to find the drugs; she didn't want anyone to know she was down here, and had already been forced into hiding from various employees to avoid discovery. Nevertheless, she was sure that once she had got Mann out of the picture for good, everything would be worth it, and she could have what she really wanted in life.

Jenny sighed in frustration; another box that contained no meds suitable for what she wanted. Some Vicodin, Morphine maybe? She was sure it was in here somewhere, but the question was where. Then she saw it. The box she had been looking for. A little gold shimmer was emanating from it, the box itself seemed to be beckoning her towards it, inviting her to search it's depths for- Jenny stopped and shook her head, trying to clear the bizarre picture that had formed. It's Mann who's having her dose of narcotics, not me…think, Jenny, instead of going crazy?

"Uh, Boss? Small problem."

"What now, McGee?"

"Well…my computer's done something funny, and it's-"

SMACK!

"Better?"

"Well, yeah, much, thank you, Boss, but…I still lost that bit of data. About the personal effects."

"Well where are they, McGee?"

McGee glanced up at an increasingly irritable Gibbs. Now was clearly not the time to annoy him, so he decided, for the sake of his health, to get to the point.

"Evidence lockup. I'll go get the stuff."

Gibbs nodded slowly, and waved him off.

"Ah ha! Got you, you little…you little…bottles of stuff…"

Jenny squinted in the poor light, trying to make out what the label said.

"Tr – Tr – Tra – Trama – dammit, I feel like I'm in the first grade again! Trama – ama – amadol! Tramadol! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!"

It was only then that Jenny realised that vocalizing her triumph could only draw attention to her rather illegal activities, so she shut her mouth and instead focused on pulling the stuff out of the boxes. Three bottles of pills, all mostly empty, but combined would make one hell of a cocktail. Just for good luck, Jenny grabbed a bottle of purplish solution, another narcotic by the looks of the label, placed it carefully on a shelf whilst she replaced the box from which they came. Now, she told herself, all I have to do is edit the logs a little and tidy up in here, and all will be well.

"Hold the elevator! McGee, hold the damn – thank you," DiNozzo finished as he, swiftly followed by Ziva, Gibbs and Mann, leapt into the elevator.

"Thought we'd come down and check out evidence with you, change of scenery, y'know?"

Gibbs glared at them all, and they closed their mouths, resigned to silence as the elevator carried them downwards and into the garage.

"DiNozzo! Get back here, and take him with you!"

Jenny whirled around. She had just heard a voice. A familiar voice. No, wait, voices, plural. The voices of one L. J. Gibbs and his team, plus the tagalong bitch. No, don't get sidetracked, get moving!

Hastily, Jenny rammed everything she had grabbed into her clothes – the pills were going to be emptied into her bra, but the shirt was too fluid, it showed too much, so she stuffed them into her shoes, up her sleeves, her pockets and, taking a deep breath, her underwear. Cold, uncomfortable, but necessary. Then she stared at the bottle of liquid – she certainly couldn't shove that anywhere without causing undue discomfort. Except, perhaps, her pocket. Would that work? The footsteps came closer, and as she heard the unmistakeable sound of the door to the lockup being wrenched open – plus cursing about it needing an oil from an irritated Gibbs – she made her choice, and rammed it into her pocket as hard as she could. Satisfied that she could just slide out swiftly and all would be saved, she smoothed her hair and waited for them to enter, so she could glide out with a cool, seductive confidence. She was still uncomfortable – that's what happens when you shove enough pills to take down a mammoth into your knickers – and the side of her leg felt odd, but that, she decided, was just because the liquid bottle was in that pocket, and her trousers were maybe a little on the tight side.

The team, plus Hollis, and led by Gibbs, headed straight to the room containing the personal effects from their dead Petty Officer. Seeing a light, however, Gibbs pressed a finger to his lips to silence the rest of his team and went to investigate, where he found Jenny. Looking…well…the same as she had for the last couple of weeks. A little bit suspicious, if he was completely honest. She smiled at him, and gave him a look he could only imagine she thought was seductive, before she noticed him staring at her. She followed the line of his eyes, and before she could open her mouth, DiNozzo broke the rather awkward silence.

"Uh, Director? Why do you have purple goop running down your leg?"

Think fast, Jenny, think fast!

"Uh, uh, I, uh…" She fished for a reason, and found one.

"Woman's problems."

Yeah, genius. The previously cream-coloured leg of your trousers is turning purple. Really a woman's issue.

Still, the words had the effect they always had: they silenced all of the men in the room.

"Hah, yeah, I should go sort this out…y'know, woman's things, hahaha, men, ah, you wouldn't, y'know…"

Jenny took a few steps forwards, too busy worrying about salvaging her $300 trousers to walk with the planned sexy swing in her hips. Instead, she hurried to the door, and had almost…nearly…so nearly made it out. Then a noise made her stop. A noise not unlike when a child discards a packet of Skittles onto a concrete floor.

The team was stunned into silence, and instead of speaking, elected to watch the pills pour out of the clothing of the first female director of an armed federal agency. Gibbs looked on; even he was completely floored on this one. Finally, the Director herself broke the silence.

"Umm…I can explain."

As ever, thank you to all of my reviewers, much appreciated, and I will try and incorporate all of your suggestions into my story :) As for the eventual fate of our two warring ladies, I have yet to decide…much as I like the idea of offing both and keeping Gibbs for myself, after long talks with my psychiatrist, we have come to the agreement that I'm not allowed. Spoilsport.