Team Building.

Betaed by Jake and Jordre

Chapter one

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a happy Marine. "AJ, damn it, we've got that fucking Sensitivity and Team Building Seminar to go to. Starting at ..." he squinted at the paper. "0930 Monday."

Tony sighed, this was not going to be fun. "Who's supposed to attend?"

"You, me, Tim, Jimmy, and Abby. Ducky gets a pass due to his age and occupation. And there's a note not to include any non-NCIS personnel. Your pod is out." Gibbs wasn't fond of that particular idea as he had gotten used to the rest of Tony's SEAL team hanging around the bullpen.

Tony shrugged. "Good luck with that. You know they're gonna hang around and kibitz, no matter what anyone says."

Gibbs smirked. "You know that and I know that. But 'they' don't know that. I'll try to keep the animals away as much as possible, maybe tell them only one at a time."

"I'll help. Take someone on the mats, maybe." Tony snickered at the thought of the horror of some over-enthusiastic tree-hugger learning about his usual discipline methods.

Tim, who'd been standing by listening in, snickered. "They'll crap a pile and crawl under it. Those ..." he waved a hand, at a loss to describe that particular mind set required to be a seminar leader: part sanctimonious prude, part supercilious busybody.

Gibbs nodded. "True. But ..." he had a sly expression in his eyes. "I intend to have some fun with this. I hate this sort of thing. What do those ivory tower asshat REMF POG's know about anything."

"No idea." Tony turned to Tim. "I need you to be sure that Abby understands that she can't wear ..." he rubbed his face, "anything she's used to. Platform boots are out for sure. And no flirty skirts. Please."

Tim frowned. "Maybe Jet would be a better choice?"

Gibbs shook his head, "Oh, no. No, you do not wish that off on me. I'm no one to judge women's clothing."

Dean wandered by just then. "Well, no man actually is. It's safer to just say, 'Love it. Makes you look good,' and run." He settled, hipshot, on the edge of Tony's desk. "AJ, you look like you bit into something rotten. What's the what?"

"Seminar. We've been dodging it for ... a couple of years, at least. Now we're caught. And the seminar coordinator has ... requested that you all be ... exempted."

Remy, who was parked at a desk on the other side of the partition, called over, "In other words, SEALs not welcome. Good luck with that one."

The way the bullpen was arranged put six desks in the bullpen and three on the other side of the partition on the elevator side. There were also two under the stairs. No one liked these desks and they were referred to as 'purgatory' or 'limbo'. Gibbs sent those he was displeased with to sit there. And visitors that he didn't like.

Tony grabbed the phone and called Ducky. "Ducky, I need Jimmy in Abby's lab as soon as it's convenient."

Ducky, relieved that he didn't have to do the much-too-active-for-him seminar, agreed to send Jimmy and hung up. "James, you're needed in Abigail's lab. Plans for that cursed seminar. Waste of time, if you ask me, which you didn't. But still. I can think of a dozen things you could be doing that are much more useful."

Jimmy nodded his agreement and said, "Including making tea or inventorying ... anything. Well, I'll get going. If you need help, please call Director Vance to ask for it," he smirked, "Just so he knows that it was needed."

Ducky, who'd been about to protest, got a sly smile on his face and nodded. "Indeed, my boy, just the thing. Well, off with you."

Jimmy finished washing his hands and grabbed a couple of paper towels, drying his hands on the way out the door. "See you in a bit." He elbowed the door open and hurried off.

.

Abby read her email every morning. This morning she was still staring at the email when her phone rang. "Labby. The lab of Abby."

"Abby, we'll be down in a few to discuss things. Do not flip out." Tony wasn't putting up with one of Abby's fits. She was much better, now that Ziva was not adding fuel to the fire, but she still tended to explode from time to time.

"Okay, but ... seriously ... sensitivity and team building? What the hell? I mean, we're a team, we don't need building and, if they think I'm going to do any of that fall over backwards stuff, they're nuts. Not that I don't trust you, because I do, but what if you miss? Really. Just no." Abby paced, waving her hands around.

Tim trapped her in a corral of himself, Gibbs, and Jimmy. "Abby, calm down. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Are you nuts? This is awful. You know that ... it's ..." she let out a little scream of frustration. "Not good."

Gibbs sighed, "Abby." He grabbed her flailing hands and said, "Calm down. It'll be okay. We just have to put up with some ivory tower, craptastic pseudo-intellectual fucktard."

Tony snickered, "Oh, Boss, don't hold back. Just tell us how you really feel."

Tim shook his head. "It's one of those things that someone who's never been in the field will think up. Build trust, enforce teamwork. Make sure we don't damage some delicate flower's sensitivities. That sort of thing."

Abby grumbled then produced chairs for everyone. "The Pod coming?"

Tony shook his head. "No, they've been expressly excluded from the training. Not that any of us need it, but it'd be nice if there was a bit more moral support. Seriously. I'd rather go through SERE again."

Gibbs thought about that for a moment. "Not that sure about that."

Remy settled on a counter edge. "Not supposed to be here, but suck it up and deal."

Tony shrugged. "Didn't say you couldn't be here, just that you're not supposed to come to the seminar. Not ... supposed to," he smirked.

Dean flopped down on the floor and said, "Seriously, AJ, think you're gonna keep us out if we want in?"

Tony poked Abby in the shoulder with one finger. "Who is running this freak show?"

Abby glowered at Cosmo until he vacated her chair, then sat down to bring up the file that the organizer had sent Gibbs. "Well ..." she scrolled through the document muttering, "names, names ... they have to have names." She stopped, scanned a few lines, then barked, "A-ha! Gotcha. Flower Fields and Bright Sommers." Abby blinked then announced. "I don't like them already. What sort of drugged-out hippy, flower-child jack shit names their child something like Flower or Bright? Seriously."

Tony, Dean and Cosmo couldn't have answered even if they wanted to. They were laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. Gibbs was actually slackjawed, Remy was blank-faced, and Tim and Jimmy were just plain stunned into silence.

Abby eyed them with disgust, then snarled, "Okay, yuck it up, assholes. Just you wait. Those flower-child touchy-feely fruitcakes will have us doing all sorts of embarrassing things. I'm not going." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave one jerky nod.

Tim glanced at Gibbs then said, "Abbs, we all have to go. We'll all be together in our misery."

Jimmy nodded. "At least ... well." He scowled then grumbled, "I already have to deal with HIPAA; now I have to deal with this, too? Fuck."

Abby frowned, distracted, which was Jimmy's intent. "Does that even apply to dead people?"

"It actually does, and it drives Ducky, and me, nuts. You wouldn't believe what hoops we have to jump through just to give agents information they need. Do not get Ducky started, he'll go all Scottish on you." Jimmy grinned. "His accent gets so thick I can't even understand him."

Gibbs nodded. "I remember one time ... he got so mad over something that he actually started ranting in Gaelic. That was interesting." He chuckled. "I learned a few new words."

Remy smirked, "That's something, especially for a jarhead."

Cosmo leaned over Abby to look at the document. "Um ... did any of you notice that this thing isn't in DC?"

Abby scrolled down a bit then gave another little shriek. "Oh. My. God. We have to go to Montana? No way. Not a chance. I hate Montana. It's all up hill, cold, and way too green. I don't like country anything. No, just no."

A flat voice from the door startled them all by saying, "Miss Sciuto you will go. HR is adamant that anyone who does not attend the mandatory Sensitivity and Team Building Seminar will be suspended without pay until they do." Director Vance made a face. "And there's nothing I can do about it. SecNav insists." He scowled at her. "And do realize that this one is entirely on you. After all, it was your inappropriate hugging habits that injured LtCmd DiNozzo." He sighed, "And I had to take one before any of you, so suck it up and deal." He pointed at the SEALs individually. "And you three are not going. You've got things to do down at Yorktown, so don't go getting any ideas."

Gibbs scowled back at Vance. "This is ridiculous. Really."

Director Vance nodded. "It is. But you try convincing those tree-hugging libtards that. Just go ... do ... get it over with. Pack and be ready to go wheels up on Monday. This is Friday, you can leave whenever you need. I've already taken you off rotation." He eyed Abby. "And Miss Sciuto? I'd suggest you allow Gibbs or DiNozzo to pack for you. That goth is fine for the office but in the wilds of Montana? Don't think so. And I do not want you coming back with a messed up ankle or something." He grinned at a groaning Tony. "DiNozzo." He turned and left, hoping that he got his MCRT and morgue assistant back in one piece, not to mention his best forensic scientist.

Abby, realizing that she was as stuck as she could be, slumped in her chair, "Well, shit."

Tony decided now was the time for some rough love. "Sorry, Abby, but it really is your fault." He held up a hand, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but the fact is: you did. We managed to avoid this shit for two years, then you attracted HR's attention by basically standing on a desk and screaming in their faces. So, suck it up and deal. I'll be over to your place tonight to help you pack." He shook his head. "Tonight. And I mean it. I know you won't have everything, or maybe anything, you need, so we'll go over things tonight and go shopping tomorrow. I'm taking my go bag. Jet?"

"Me too." Gibbs scowled in thought. "Might actually take a full field pack. Jimmy? Tim?"

Jimmy nodded. "I've been running with mine since we set it up for SEAL training. I'll bring it with the addition of an extra set of underwear."

Tim considered for a moment. "I'll bring mine too. But I'm bringing my smart phone and tablet, no matter what they say. They don't like it, they can get fucked. I'm not going to be out of contact for anyone. But I will leave my tablet alone, unless I need it for something. I think we ought to go over our packs and make them more mission-specific."

Tony nodded. "Good idea. Do some research tonight and find out what conditions we should be facing this time of year."

Tim had his tablet out and was making notes.

Remy sighed, "I don't like this. I don't like you going off without me. Last time that happened ..." he scowled at his boot toes. "Wasn't good."

Tony nodded. The last time he and Remy had been separated, he'd gotten captured and tortured. Remy had never let command live that one down.

"It won't be that bad. I'll still be State-side. But I want you to duplicate all Tim's research."

Tim glanced up but didn't protest. It wasn't that unusual for a CO to have two of his people do the same research, then compare results.

Gibbs just watched in pleasure as his 2IC did what he did best. He'd have a look-over at the plans, but he expected them to be perfect.

Tony noticed and smirked. Dean noticed too, but said sadly, "You do know that no plan survives first contact with an enemy, right?"

Tim nodded. "I do."

Gibbs finished the thought. "But it's better to start out with a plan than do the whole damn shootin' match by the seat of your pants."

Cosmo agreed. "Right. It's nice to have a plan B and even C. That way you might have the gear you need."

Tony thought for a moment then said, "Need rope, and pitons, and ... climbing gear in general. I'm sticking in an extra pair of gloves."

They were just beginning to make a list when Max Undine, NCIS Psychologist, tapped on the door, then came in. "Well, why are we all hiding down here? It doesn't seem very ... friendly. We do all want to be friends, don't we?"

Tony eyed Max with complete disfavor. Max was flamingly gay, but that wasn't why he was avoided whenever possible. He was aggressively friendly and cheerful, and that was why. He'd been great help with Ziva, but he was generally disliked by most agents, as he was a royal pain in the ass. His insistence that talking would help everything was annoying; he, like most psychologists and psychiatrists, didn't seem to understand that there was a time and place for talking, and a time and place for processing. Most people had to process before they were ready to talk, and some people took longer than others. None of the ones working in HR seemed to understand that. It gained them a reputation for being pushy and rude. Note that Max didn't wait to be invited in.

Gibbs eyed Max then said, with creditable patience, "We're not hiding. We're down here making plans for the seminar. Do you know how we're supposed to get there?"

"Oh, well ... beginning your exercises early? That's good. As to getting there, I believe that Director Vance made arrangements for you to fly." Max really wasn't sure how they were supposed to get to the retreat. "But ..." he waved that concern away, flapping his hands airily. "you'll be meeting your counselors right here. They have all the tickets and know where you're supposed to be going." He patted Gibbs on the head absently, gaining himself a glower and several horrifiedly astounded looks as he left.

Gibbs snarled at Max's back. "Ass. I swear, if I knew how to do it, I'd make arrangements of my own."

Abby glanced at Tim who smirked back. "Okay. Tell us what you want and we'll get it."

Gibbs looked from Tim to Abby, then glanced at Tony. Jimmy just shrugged. "Okay, first we need to get from DC to Montana. C-130 headed that way would be nice. A great team-building exercise, don't cha think?"

Tony choked on a sip of his coffee. "Boss, you're vicious."

"So?" Gibbs chuckled darkly. "Then we have to get from ... probably Helena ... up to the retreat. Small aircraft of some sort."

Tony nodded. "I know we can get an air taxi, if there's an airport near the retreat. Abby?"

"On it." Abby turned to her computer and quickly found that there was a suitable landing strip about six miles from the retreat. It was private, but the owner allowed the retreat to use it for a fee per landing.

Gibbs nodded to Tim. "Found anything?"

Tim chuckled. "Oh, yes. We can catch a flight from Quantico to Denver International that's actually a point-to-point. No stops for off-loading or pick-ups. No idea why, but I got seven boarding passes. Then we need a hop from there to Helena, and an air taxi to Glacier National Park. We'll have to manage our own luggage, but that's usual. Good?"

Gibbs snorted. "We don't need help with a backpack."

Tim glanced at Jimmy, who snickered. "You talk."

Jimmy shrugged. "Okay. See, I know that sort of person. They're ... entitled, for lack of a better word. They'll need help with a carry-on. And I bet Flower packs like she's headed for six months in Outer Mongolia. Five." He looked around, hoping someone would take his five-dollar bet. No one even looked like they were thinking of it.

They fiddled around for another few minutes, making plans to get together at GHQ Saturday afternoon or Sunday, to make sure everyone had the proper gear, and just get mentally ready to be harassed, judged, harangued, and generally annoyed.

.