"Shouldn't there be a sign or something?" said Tony DiNozzo discontentedly, as he peered through the windshield of the battered Jeep.

"What? 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here'?" asked Tim McGee in an equally unhappy tone.

"Well," considered Tony, "perhaps not quite that. But there should be a warning. Don't you think?"

"I think all the time," said Tim crossly, "it's you who don't."

"Hey," said Tony defensively, "this is not …"

"Your fault? Oh, yes it is," said Tim firmly.

Flashback

Practised observers of the Major Case Response Team knew that its members did not thrive on inactivity, especially when down time followed a period of intense activity. Those practised observers had prudently distanced themselves on the fifth day without a new case following a month in which case had followed case with the team barely having time to sleep at their desks, let alone go home to rest.

Gibbs' team recovered best from such pressure by a gradual decompressing; one case following another in orderly fashion. The abrupt switch from manic activity to idleness was not good for them and they tended to 'cope' in disturbing ways. One of these ways was an increasingly frenetic prank war that had broken out between Agents McGee and DiNozzo with collateral damage sometimes spilling on to hapless passers-by.

After some years of dealing with DiNozzo, McGee had started using his computer skills in ways his alma mater might have deplored but which he found deeply satisfying. Tony's bewilderment at having veggie pizzas delivered to his desk on an hourly basis was wonderful to behold and increased when he had to pay for them as they seemed to have been ordered from his phone. The 'amendment' to Tony's computer which meant documents were never saved was small beer in comparison but was equally effective in raising the DiNozzo blood pressure.

DiNozzo was not defeated however. He might lack some of McGee's technical skills but he was an artist when it came to dismantling. The handle had fallen off McGee's coffee mug, his chair had gradually disintegrated during the day and his shoes had fallen apart when he went to the men's room. Tony was rather proud that he had stayed away from his trade mark super glue but, with his legendary inventiveness running out, he decided to go back to basics. On reflection, that was not one of his best decisions.

In some ways, however, Tony considered it to be a master stroke. McGee was on the alert for ever more sophisticated attacks and it was possible that a simple assault on his keyboard would sneak under his defences.

Tony arrived to work with a studiedly nonchalant air the day after smearing the glue on the Mckeyboard. He had timed his arrival for a few minutes after McGee's and reckoned he would be there at the optimum moment. Tony was surprised, therefore, to see Tim sitting rather smugly at his desk as he drank his morning coffee from the repaired coffee mug. Tony cast a quick look over his own desk to make sure there were no obvious traps and sat down to await further developments.

"Morning, Boss," he said cheerily as Gibbs swept into the office.

"Boss," chorused Tim.

Gibbs nodded curtly in greeting. DiNozzo and McGee were not his favourite people at the moment; he usually tried to ignore their practical jokes but the last few days had been rather wearing and he thought he might have to intervene if they didn't calm down. Gibbs reluctantly switched his computer on and entered his password: or rather, he tried to but found that he couldn't move his fingers which were stuck to the keys.

"DiNozzo!" he roared as he raised his hands and the keyboard came too.

"B-b-boss … t-t-that wasn't m-m-me. I swear it wasn't!" said Tony in a panic. He looked across to Tim who looked at him with a mixture of sadness and bewilderment.

"Uh, Boss," said Tim after a moment or two of tense silence, "I think I know what happened. I switched my keyboard for yours."

"Why?" demanded Gibbs as he look incredulously at his hands.

"I wanted you to see how much easier my keyboard is to use than your old one," said McGee virtuously.

"I like the old one," muttered Gibbs.

"And I guess someone," McGee looked at Tony, "had put superglue on it."

Gibbs fixed Tony with a glare.

"I have some acetone," said McGee helpfully as Tony seemed to be struck dumb although his mouth was opening and closing as his brain tried to engage.

"Going to see Ducky," announced Gibbs. "And where do you think you're going?" he said to Tony who had got ready to follow him.

"Uh, uh. Er. Er. I thought I'd press the buttons for the elevator," he said, "uh, you know, you might find it tricky with …" he trailed off as he pointed to Gibbs' hand ornaments.

"OK," said Gibbs, "and then you go back to your desk and you stay there!"

"Yes, Boss. Of course, Boss," said Tony as he ran to the elevator and then tried to stay out of head slap range.

Tim took a satisfying sip of his coffee as he watched Tony wander back to his desk, he looked broken. Tony sat down and buried his head in his hands, a stifled groan came from his direction. McGee took his morning donut out of its bag and began to pick off the sprinkles until a sudden movement from Tony's desk caught his attention.

"Hah!" exclaimed Tony as his head jerked up and turned to look at Tim. "No," he said as he returned his head to his hands, "no, it's not possible."

Tim had time to pick off another five sprinkles before Tony lifted his head once more.

"And yet," said Tony, "it seems the only possible solution." He got up and came to stand in front of Tim's desk.

"What's up, Tony?" asked McGee, "I mean apart from being about to be eviscerated by Gibbs?"

"Very good, McGee," praised Tony, "or should I say McReckless?"

"Don't what you're talking about," said Tim airily.

"Or perhaps it should be McDevious," mused Tony as he leaned menacingly over McGee.

"Still don't know," said McGee trying to appear uninterested.

"In all the times I have superglued your keyboard," said Tony, "you have never once managed to avoid getting your fingers stuck."

"What's your point?" asked McGee.

"And yet you managed to unplug your keyboard, carry it over to the Boss's desk, plug it in and somehow do all that without touching the keys?"

"So?" said McGee with a hint of bluster.

"So, I think that's impossible. I think you spotted the glue on your keyboard and decided to divert the prank on to Gibbs."

"Don't know what you're talking about," said McGee, picking sprinkles off with more haste than usual.

"It's brave," admitted Tony, "suicidal, but brave. I didn't know you had it in you, McGee."

"It was you who put the glue on the keyboard, not me," protested Tim.

"And you really think that Gibbs won't work out that you knew the glue was there?" marvelled Tony, "oh, Tim. This is Gibbs we're talking about."

"Still don't know what you're going on about," said Tim as calmly as he could.

"Of course," said Tony turning away to go back to his desk, "it might just be that my master plan worked."

"What master plan?"

"I knew you'd spot the glue. So, I thought, what will little Timmy do. Perhaps he'll prank me by switching it over to Gibbs."

"You didn't think that," said Tim scornfully, "you didn't manipulate me into making the switch. I did it …"

"Hah!" said Tony triumphantly as he swung round to look at Tim again, "you admit it!"

"OK," said Tim, "I did it. After I'd unstuck my fingers! I came back last night to … well, I came back and got stuck to the keyboard. That's when I thought about moving it to Gibbs' desk."

Tony punched the air in triumph. "Very clever, McGee," he acknowledged, "but like I said, it's a dangerous strategy."

"How so?"

"You think the Boss won't figure it out? It was one thing for him to think he got stuck as collateral damage. He knows I would never deliberately prank him. But you …"

"Me what?" asked McGee nervously.

"You, McHapless," said Tony with some glee, "you pranked him on purpose!"

"But you said it was all part of your devious plan," said McGee hysterically.

Tony shrugged, "you think the Boss will believe that?"

Tim gazed at Tony in horror.

Silence fell once more as Tony sat down at his desk and both agents decided it would be politic to look as if they were working when Gibbs returned. They didn't have long to wait. Gibbs came back, keyboard tucked under one arm and a cup of coffee in both hands. He sat down and smiled at his agents. It wasn't a nice smile.

"DiNozzo, McGee," he said in a deceptively soft voice as he crooked his finger to summon them to his desk.

Tim and Tony walked up trying to look as if they were completely relaxed. They each wondered who Gibbs had identified as the real culprit.

"Got a job for you two boys," said Gibbs conversationally.

Tony thought of saying something like, 'that's nice', but there was something in Gibbs' expression which warned him that would not be wise. He nodded his head instead.

Tim had noticed that, on occasion, Gibbs' head looked almost snakelike: it was something about the way he swivelled it better to fix his ice-cold gaze on his latest victim. It seemed particularly snakelike that day. He swallowed.

"Caspar Sullivan," said Gibbs as he continued to look at his agents who wisely kept silence.

"Caspar Sullivan," repeated Gibbs. Tim and Tony jumped into life as they realised it had been something of a question.

"Er, Petty Officer Caspar Sullivan," said Tony, "suspected to have been stealing hi-tech items from the USS Intrepid."

"Arrested making a sale in West Virginia," completed Tim.

"Army CID were following a suspected arms dealer to a meet. Sullivan turned out to be the supplier," continued Tony.

"Navy has done a full audit of the Intrepid's stores," said Gibbs, "turns out there's a lot more missing than what Sullivan had with him when he was arrested."

Silence, which was eventually broken by Tony, "So?"

"So, the Navy wants to find the rest of the stolen items."

"How, Boss?" asked McGee.

"Well, McGee, you and DiNozzo are going to go to West Virginia and find it all."

"Er, how will we know where to look?" asked Tony.

"Sullivan was on leave for a week. Spent it camping out in West Virginia. Looks as if he stashed it all there."

"And?" asked McGee.

"So, you're going to go to all the possible camp sites and find the missing equipment. You've got five days."

"Oh," said Tony, breathing a sigh of relief. That didn't sound so bad. The weather wasn't good but it wasn't too cold yet although the days were getting shorter.

"Right," said McGee, "er. We just need the location." He was also relieved. A few days out of the office didn't sound so bad even if they were going to be spent with Tony.

Gibbs passed Sullivan's file to Tony, "We know Sullivan went straight home from the Intrepid and didn't leave the area for a week. Best guess is that he hid the gear within a twenty mile radius of his home. Look there."

Tony opened the file and looked for the address, "Lives near Green Bank. Hmmm. Why does that sound familiar?"

"Green Bank?" said Tim, "don't know, rings a bell."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow sending Tim and Tony scuttling back to their computers to get directions. He drank from his coffee and waited for realisation to dawn.

"Green Bank is in the middle of the National Radio Quiet Zone," said Tony.

"But … but … but that means there's no cell reception. No Wi-Fi," gasped Tim, "Boss. Our cells won't work, we won't be able to do anything using our technology!"

Tim and Tony looked at each other in horror and then looked at Gibbs whose expression was inscrutable but somehow still suggested that he had hit on a particularly fiendish punishment.

"Not much radio either, I hear," said Gibbs blandly.

"Better get some nickels and dimes then," said Tony, "to use in the pay phones."

"Good idea," said Gibbs neutrally.

"I'll look up hotels," said McGee, "book us in."

"McGee," said Gibbs.

"Boss?"

"I don't think Fred in Accounting will pass any expense claims on this."

"Why not, Boss?" said McGee.

"Because the Boss will have a word with him, Tim," said Tony sadly as he realised the extent of the punishment.

"Might stretch to you hiring camping gear," said Gibbs generously.

"Yes, Boss, thank you, Boss," said Tony, "come on Tim, Time to exercise those Grizzly Adams skills."

"Oh, boys," called Gibbs as Tony and Tim reached the elevator, "hire a diesel."

"Why, Boss?" asked Tim.

"Spark plugs aren't allowed near the Observatory. Seems they create some sort of radio disturbance. So, no petrol cars."

Tim's head drooped even more.

End flashback

Now Tony and Tim were sitting forlornly in their 1990 Jeep Cherokee with a heap of camping gear loaded in the back. The Satnav app on Tim's cell phone indicated that the National Radio Quiet Zone lay a few hundred yards ahead and they were bracing themselves for the technology free ordeal which lay ahead.

"Perhaps it's an exaggeration," said Tim hopefully, "I mean, who manages without a smartphone these days?"

"Gibbs," said Tony succinctly.

"And Wi-Fi?" said Tim mournfully.

"Gibbs."

"OK. What normal people?"

"I give you that one," conceded Tony, "OK. Let's go," and he eased the jeep forward.

Tim kept his eyes fixed on his phone and then sighed as the bars disappeared one by one and his connection to the outside world faded and died.

Tony stopped the car.

"Why have you stopped?" asked Tim.

"Get the map out, Tim," said Tony.

"Map?"

"Yeah. You know that foldy thing with contour lines and road names. Helps you know where you're going."

"Map?" repeated Tim.

"Yes! You said you'd be in charge of navigation," said Tony trying to be patient.

"I-I-I …"

"Forgot that Satnav wouldn't work in the Twilight Zone," finished Tony. He put the jeep into reverse and went back down the road.

"Where you going?" asked McGee, "we're not giving up, are we?" he added in sudden hope.

"No," said Tony firmly, "we'll go back to where we can get a signal and then you can plot us a course."

"Where to?"

"Somewhere we can buy a map!"

Shortly afterwards they made their second entry into the Quiet Zone. Tim sighed. It would be a long five days.

AN: OK – two things.

I've used the Gibbs superglued idea before but I think it has a different twist this time.

The Quiet Zone is a 13000 square mile rectangle in Virginia/West Virginia where there are lots of restrictions on radio transmissions. This is designed to protect the National Radio Astronomy Observatory and the US Navy Information Operations Command (NIOC) at Sugar Grove. The Observatory is at Green Bank and the severest restrictions are in place there. It just seemed such a cool place to send someone like McGee who loves technology and who probably can't live without the internet.