The agents were granted the weekend off, and while Tony, Ziva and Gibbs all returned well-rested and ready to work on Monday, they were all secretly frightened to see that Tim somehow looked even worse. Jethro sent McGee to get looked at by Ducky, but the young man was able to convince the doctor that he was only having trouble sleeping. It wasn't a lie, in fact it was glaringly true. He just didn't saw why he was having so much trouble. The elderly doctor was going to send him home, but both the ME and agent were again needed at a crime scene.

This time, however, it was truly an open and shut case. It wasn't a crime scene at all, really, but the matter of a marine found on a hiking trail had slipped and fallen, hit his head and died soon after. Ziva found his sports camera nearby, which had, for better or worse, captured the whole thing.

The true shock of the day came after the vans were on the road for only a few minutes. Tony and Gibbs, sitting in the front seat of the CSI vehicle, saw the whole thing first.

A small set of buildings backed up to the road, each a remolded house turned into a modest but pleasant apartment complex. The building closest to the road was surrounded by a small crowd of frantic people, and when Gibbs saw the smoke coming from the windows on the third floor he understood why.

Firefighters hadn't arrived on the scene yet when Jethro yanked the car over to the curb and slammed on the breaks. The building was clearly on fire, so when the hoard of onlookers rushed the NCIS vehicle, mistaking it for an ambulance, the agents had to gently fight them back before they could ask for medical assistance. Ducky and Palmer had pulled up in the ME van. The two members of Team Gibbs most experienced in medical emergencies were, of course, Doctor Mallard and his young assistant, who immediately began looking over the minor burns some tenants had suffered while trying to escape the fire.

"Anyone call 9-1-1?" Gibbs asked the crowd.

"I did," a young woman stepped forward. "They should be here any minute."

Unfortunately, whatever had started the blaze was fast acting and soon flames could be seen from the top floor.

"Is everyone out?" Tony asked, hoping to god the answer was yes. If not, those people had very little time left.

"I don't know," the woman said. But as she replied, screams could be heard from inside the building.

DiNozzo and Ziva whipped their heads in the direction of the screaming, and were both horrified and completely unsurprised to see Gibbs already running towards the door of the building. The real shock was the fact that the team leader was a few paces behind McGee, who shoved the door to the small complex open with his shoulder without stopping, not bothering to test the handle for heat.

"Boss!"

"McGee!"

Their shouts were lost to the two men, who were already inside. DiNozzo debated running in after them, but Ducky saw the expression on his face and stopped him before he or Ziva could follow their colleagues into the fire.

"Don't you dare, Anthony. You two would do more harm than good trying to retrieve Timothy and Jethro. And with your lungs you shouldn't go anywhere near there."

Tony nodded, realizing the older man was right (with his plague-scarred lungs, he would be next to useless in the smoke) but he could not help the panic that rose to his throat. He didn't have a mirror, but he was fairly certain that his expression was identical to Ducky's look of worry. No, he was sure that Ducky's expression was far more controlled- Tony was filled with dread and it took all he had not to lose it right then and there. Ducky would understand his worry for his friends, but probably not the unbridled panic he felt.

Secretly, the elderly ME was a bit upset with his old friend; he knew Gibbs was reckless and would put his life aside for just about anyone, but Jethro should have known that his team, who would follow him to hell and back, would chase after him into the burning building.

But Ducky's agitation was misplaced, for while he assumed that Tim's youth was the only reason the young man had beaten his boss to the door, it was actually McGee who'd sprinted forward without a second thought. Gibbs might have done the same, but the older man was really only spurred forward at the sight of his youngest rushing towards the flames. It was an automatic response to protect his team, and while he wanted nothing more than to drag McGee back to the van and knock him upside the head for his borderline-psychotic bravery. But Tim was not a child, and Gibbs knew that there really was no choice. There was no sign of a firetruck yet, and the building (and the people inside it) would likely not last long enough to see their arrival.

Hence the stupid, reckless, insane actions by Gibbs and McGee. And when Gibbs ran after Tim into the building, blinking against the smoke that assailed his senses, he didn't know whether to kill his agent for his idiocy, or give him a medal for his bravery.

….

McGee hadn't realized that his boss followed him until he paused in the entrance room, listening for the screams and looking around for the source of the smoke. The fire had yet to spread down to the first floor, which seemed, relatively, like a blessing. When Gibbs put his hand on his agent's shoulder, McGee jumped, but Jethro only pointed up the stairs and took the lead.

Once they reached the second floor, the shouts could be hear much more clearly. The fire had begun to eat away at the hallway, and the agents had to jump over several patches of burning carpet. They found the apartment that emitted the sounds of crying, and, as if they were pursuing a suspect, the junior agent took his spot near the door while Gibbs reared up and kicked it down.

The sight they found was a sad one; a young mother with four small children was struggling to get them in order so that she might carry them to safety. Most likely she did not realize the building was on fire until the smoke alarms went of, at which time her four children of varying ages became hysterical. Not wanting to leave any of them behind, and unable to pick them all up at once, she had cried out for help. It was a good thing Tim and Jethro had reacted when they did- the little family would not have been able to navigate the fiery hallway by themselves, as none of the children were really old enough to understand what to do in the event of a fire.

Without stopping to think, McGee rushed forward, lifted two of the kids, as Gibbs pulled the sobbing woman to her feet and picked up the other two. The two agents ran back down the hallway, leading the woman down the stairs and out the door.

The firetruck and ambulance finally arrived just as the two agents emerged. Immediately, the professional emergency workers took over, pulling out the huge fire hose and clearing the way of the nearest fire hydrant. An ambulance pulled up right behind the NCIS CSI van, and despite the cuts and burns that a few of the residents had suffered, it was clear the young woman and her children needed to be examined first. McGee gently handed the two kids, who had clung to him desperately as soon as he'd picked them up, off to the EMTs. Gibbs handed the two in his arms to their sobbing mother, who gripped them close and thanked the two agents over and over. Both Gibbs and Tim refused help from the EMTs, insisting they were fine, but Ducky was having none of it, and was not satisfied until he'd glanced over both men.

"When we get back to NCIS, I want you both to come down to the morgue. I'm assessing you both for smoke inhalation."

Gibbs said nothing, and Tim doubled over, too out of breath to argue. Despite the burning in his lungs from breathing in ash, dust and polluted air, there was a pleasant feeling of accomplishment in his chest. Those kids didn't die. He'd done something right.

When he straightened up, DiNozzo fixed him with an expression that could only be described as begrudging pride.

"That was really stupid, McGee," he said. "But…"

"I know, if I ever do it again, you'll kill me yourself," Tim quipped, a grin working its way onto his face. Despite his annoyance at his friend's recklessness, DiNozzo shared the smile.

"Right."

Still, Tony hadn't missed the look on Tim's face when they'd exited the fire- it was the same expression he wore when he'd been found in the woods. It had originally seemed like a wild-eyed panicky look, but now that he'd seen it again, DiNozzo couldn't miss the determination that rested, hidden under the adrenaline and fear. It made his gut twist in worry, because it was a look that he'd seen before; on Ziva, on himself, Gibbs, Mike Franks, and even Director Shepard. Never McGee. Not until now. It was Tony's least favorite expression to see on people he cared about, because it was a look that said not only is that person prepared to fight, they're prepared to go down fighting.

…

Since the fire was not their case, there was nothing more they could do once the firefighters sprung into action. After the agents made sure that no one was seriously hurt, they packed up to go home. The woman that the agents had saved thanked them profusely, and then the little family was whisked away to the hospital to be treated for smoke inhalation. As soon as they returned to NCIS, Ducky made good on his demands and held both Jethro and McGee in the autopsy room until he was satisfied that their lungs would be alright. None of their cuts, bruises, or burns were serious, so Ducky and Palmer made short work of their charges. While sitting across from each other on the exam tables, Tim looked at Gibbs, expecting to get in trouble, but saving the lives of children was far from a punishable offense and Gibbs just nodded in approval. It wasn't until they were in the elevator heading up to the squadroom that Jethro said, "You did good, McGee."

"Thanks, Boss. You too."

Gibbs smiled slightly and turned back to watching the numbers count off the floors as they ascended. "Don't make it three times, Tim," he warned, without anger. His agent knew that he meant "no risking your life a third time," and he responded with a seemingly sincere "yes, Boss," before the elevator dinged and they joined the other half of their team in the bullpen. Tony and Ziva fluttered around Tim's desk, asking questions and praising him (and Gibbs) for their actions. However, the team leader noticed how worn and pale his youngest agent was looking and got up, giving the others a look that send them back to their desks.

"You alright, McGee?"

"Yeah, sorry Boss, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

"Finish up your case report and go home. You too," he said to DiNozzo and Ziva. "See you all tomorrow."

The agents brightened at this. After having the weekend off, this reward of going home early was almost too good to be true. Though Tony and Ziva looked at their friend and realized just how badly he could use a real vacation. McGee just couldn't help but be grateful for the time off. He was beat, and while he'd usually insist that he would be fine staying until the end of day, the weekend hadn't been relaxing at all, and he needed sleep. Plus, it wasn't missing work if everyone got the time off, right?

He finished up the case report in record time, and decided to read and answer the day's work emails before going home. One in particular caught his eye, and he sat there staring at the screen, lost in thought for so long that Ziva noticed and had to call him twice to get his attention.

"Sorry, Ziva, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were alright," she said.

"Oh yeah, just reading something," he said, then his fingers moved in a flurry of clicks. He typed so fast that Tony was startled from his case report, but the older agent didn't say anything, assuming his friend was just trying to get his own report done faster.

In fact, Tony was only halfway through the work when McGee started gathering his belongings. Ziva had stepped away to use the restroom, and Gibbs was off making sure their killer was put in the proper custody, so the two were alone in the bullpen.

"Did you wanna get a drink?" Tony offered.

"I'm actually kind of hungry," Tim said. That was probably for the best- he looked a little too tired and pale to be adding alcohol to the equation. "I was gonna go home and order a pizza. You can come over…I'll even let you pick the movie."

DiNozzo perked up a bit at the idea. They did this from time to time after a rough case and right then pizza sounded like the best thing in the world.

"You don't have to wait up," Tony said.

"I'll go home and order the food. Just come over when you're done," Tim said, smiling and heading off to the elevators.

...

Despite the prospect of food, it took Tony forever to finish the work. Ziva and Gibbs both left before he did, so he was all alone in the bullpen by the time he hit print and waited for the ancient piece of tech to spit out his report.

While he waited he decided to check his work email; there was nothing much new, except for a mass-message from the office of the Sec-Nav, titled "Agents Needed for Inter-Agency Task Force." To an NCIS agent, it might as well have been titled "Fwd Fwd Fwd Fwd: You will be cursed if you do not read this!" Just another bit of spam.

These emails were the worst. When truly classified cases ended up on the desk of the director, he hand picked the men and women he felt were fit for the job. The rest of the time, when agents were needed for task forces or to run surveillance in remote locations, these mass emails were sent to everyone's work accounts, fishing for volunteers. Sometimes it was a job as mundane as "agent afloat," but sometimes these missions were truly life-threatening operations in countries from which any sane person would steer clear.

Tony hated these things. At best they were annoying, and at worst they reminded him of the handful of undercover operations he'd done for the past few directors of NCIS. When he was a cop, small time undercover jobs were his "thing." Back then they were short-lived and not relatively dangerous…the ones he'd done as an agent were very dangerous, and never his idea. They always ended up hurting him physically, mentally, and emotionally. The only time he'd ever willingly put together such an operation was the infamous suicide mission to Somalia, and he never really expected to come back from that. During that dark summer he was consumed with thoughts of Ziva's death and her death alone.

But nowadays, yeah, he saw right through these emails. Because he knew that the non-dangerous ones were not actually all that secret or all that important; they were just Probie-bait designed to give Vance a sense of who among the probationary agents had talent or ambition or guts. These occurred once every other month and went straight to the trash bins on every seasoned agents' computer.

It was the vague, classified messages that were sent only to the dozen or so agents who worked on the same floor as the MCRT…those were the scary ones. The purpose of these emails was to provide a selection of candidates for high-level operations. These were operations overseas, created by the Brass well over Vance's head. They were short, top secret and often ended in injury or worse. It was odd to send out something as informal and mundane as a semi-mass email to find volunteers for these lethal missions, but they were created and sent out by the Sec-Nav and his office. Vance had no say in the matter other than selecting the best agent from the pool of volunteers. If it were a strictly NCIS-related case, the director had no problem picking and assigning a top agents to a task himself. But in situations like these, the director always hoped that no one would bother to even read the whole message. And most didn't. Only when an agent wanted to move up in the ranks or was in need of a bonus check did they consider taking the assignment.

Tony, quite satisfied with his salary and with his spot on the team, deleted the email without a second thought. He finished his case report and put it on Gibbs' desk before gathering his belongings. Hopefully McGee would have the pizza and beer ready by the time he got to his friend's apartment. DiNozzo was just shutting down his computer when Jimmy entered carrying a small stack of files.

"Hey, Tony."

"What are you still doing here, Palmer? I thought you and Ducky would have gone home by now."

"I'm on my way out. Doctor Mallard just wanted me to run these up to the director before I left."

"I'll take them, Palmer," Vance was descending the stairs from his office and heard the exchange. "Tell Dr. Mallard I said thank you."

"No problem. Good night, Director. 'Night, Tony."

The junior medical examiner left the bullpen, and DiNozzo put his case report on Gibbs' desk. When he turned to leave, he saw that Leon had stayed in one place and was looking through the top file on the stack.

"Well…goodnight," the senior agent said awkwardly, scooting past the older man and heading for the elevators.

"Wait, DiNozzo. I have a question for you."

Suppressing a sigh, (was he never going to get to eat dinner?) Tony turned back towards his boss and waited.

"Has Agent McGee said anything to you about wanting to transfer? Or to do something other than what he's doing with your team?"

The questions caught him completely off guard. Tim wanting a transfer? Where did that come from? "What? I mean…sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

Vance studied his face for a moment to see if he was telling the truth. Apparently satisfied, he nodded and cast his eyes back down to the files in his hands. "That's what I thought," he said. Tony noticed that the first folder was Tim's medical record.

"Is there something wrong with McGee?"

Vance wasn't allowed to say the words, "Agent McGee volunteered for an overseas mission," but now that Tony had seen the file, he informed, "Palmer was bringing me the records of all the agents that volunteered for the op in that email."

A stunned silence punched through the bullpen. DiNozzo was far from stupid, but it took him longer than it should have to put two and two together. When he did, the questions started running through his brain. Why was the junior agent volunteering for some inter-agency task force in some ungodly war-torn area? Did Gibbs know? The announcement had just gone out a couple hours ago, which meant that McGee hadn't given it more than a couple hours' thought…..What the hell was going on?

"I'm not going to keep Agent McGee from going if he wants to," Vance noted. "He's the most qualified for the job, to be honest. But I don't want to let him go if it's just because of something else going on."

They weren't really supposed to be discussing another agent's business like this. The director was being oddly frank and open with Tony, which the agent would have found unusual if he didn't understand what Vance was trying to say. Assuming they survived their mission, most agents decided to transfer or to stay with the taskforce they'd worked with. Leon didn't want to lose McGee to another agency or even another office, as NCIS was rather lacking in employees so capable in computer sciences. Not to mention the fact that it was hard to find anyone willing to fill a spot on Team Gibbs for any expanse of time. (Leroy Jethro Gibbs was infamous for his tough demeanor, though Ziva and Tony alone were enough to scare most probies away.) And Tim was a damn good agent, plain and simple. Sure there were a lot of good agents out there, but how many had trained from scratch under the tutelage of the best team NCIS had to offer?

"I'll find out what he's- what he wants," Tony said absently, too caught up in his thoughts to pay much attention to what Vance was saying. "Good night, Director."

With that, DiNozzo turned and went back to the elevators. Vance watched him go, wondering if Team Gibbs was about to fall apart.