Not connected to the season finale in any way, shape or form. A birthday present for Aly. And I'm blocked on the other one requested, but hope to finish it soon.

Rules

Jennifer Shepard resisted the urge to smirk as she followed her lover down the stairs into the squad room. Somehow Gibbs had managed to catch a cold.

And somehow she had managed to persuade him to take the rest of the day off and suffer at home.

The only slight downside to the whole arrangement was that she was now going to have to babysit his team, who, if Jethro had not been exaggerating, were on the verge of starting yet another prank war. Considering how cowed they had been for the past few days with a furious boss who was channeling his fury at being ill into his obsession with working insane hours, they needed to let off a little steam.

She wondered briefly if she could just send them home for the day behind his back and not have to deal with the oncoming mayhem. But stifling a sigh, she knew she couldn't do that. Gibbs would find out – he'd simply know – and he would never again trust her to watch over his team.

They reached the floor of the squad room together and she continued to follow him to his desk, placing the files she had carried onto a free space and glancing with distain at the mess he had created. Another obvious sign he was ill – clearly he hadn't been able to focus on one case file for long and hence had covered his desk and keyboard with a mass of cold cases.

Wondering why she had bothered to fight for promotion when all she was doing was sorting out her ex-boss' desk still, she began to stack the files and he collected his gun, grabbed his jacket and searched for his keys. Ignoring the odd looks his team was giving them, she dumped his files on the floor and settled into his chair.

"Director's in charge," Gibbs stated as he stalked to the elevator.

This time, Jenny allowed herself to smirk as she observed his team following their fearless leader with their eyes to the elevator, until the doors closed behind him and they immediately turned on her.

"Do not kill each other," was all she ordered them before uncapping the lid of her favorite pen and opening her first file.

Tony DiNozzo was rather glad to have Director Shepard watching over them than the boss.

Normally, he enjoyed his job. Despite the long hours and low pay, despite the sheer number of incredibly annoying people he came across during investigations, despite the horrors which made him despair for the future of the human race, he felt a sense of pride when another dirtbag was taken off the streets. And despite his nonchalant attitude, he enjoyed working with his teammates.

Even the Probie.

And Gibbs? Had a bite worse than his bark, an obsessive streak running right through him, worked the most insane hours possible and expected his team to be there with him, expected the impossible on a regular basis and demanded more work than a college professor. Yet despite his nature, he cared for his team, helped them when they needed it.

Superman had caught a bug. Tony had been tempted to laugh at the irony, but had a well-developed sense of self-preservation and was pretty sure Gibbs would kill him for any laughter, cold or no cold.

Exactly how the boss' boss had persuaded him to go home and presumably sleep was something to discuss when the redhead was not in the squad room, but Tony was happy to bet any amount of money it involved the strong possibility that Jenny would have Gibbs' cold before the week was through.

Nevertheless, it was kind of nice to have someone different watching over them for a while, even if it was the lady boss with the power to fire him and a long history of supporting Ziva in anything and everything his little ninja got up to.

And the redhead was much more attractive than Gibbs; it was nice to have some eye-candy every once in a while.

A piece of scrunched-up paper hit in smack in the centre of his forehead and he turned his attention to the Mossad assassin who was smirking at him. Glancing across to Jenny, he checked she was busy reading a case file before aiming a nearby pen at his partner.

She glared, not taking her eyes off him as she ran her fingers across her desk in the hunt for her next projectile. Which turned out to be a rubber band.

Wincing, he chose a paperclip.

She retaliated with a stapler.

He threw his chewing gum at her. And accidently missed her blouse.

It landed in her hair instead.

She glared at him in a way that made him concerned for his life.

"Erm, Jenny?"

Although she had tried to ignore the petty fight between Ziva and Tony, on the grounds that they were supposed to be federal agents and not at kindergarten, Jennifer Shepard could not stomach the thought of having to find room in the budget to clean DiNozzo's blood from the carpet after Ziva had dismembered him.

However much he deserved it.

"Ziva," she warned.

Her pet Mossad assassin glanced in her direction as she stalked across the gap between her desk and Tony's. If it was possible, Tony seemed to shrink in fear.

"Yes, Jenny?" she replied, not stopping.

"Do not kill him," Jenny reminded her.

"Why?" Ziva had now reached her intended victim and was clearly deciding the most painful way to deal with him.

"Because it's against Jethro's Rules," Jenny tried, desperately keeping the doubt out of her voice.

"Which one?"

Perhaps they had played poker together too often – Ziva always seemed to call her bluff.

"Well…" Jenny tried to stall for time. "I'm sure there's one."

"If you, his protégé, cannot remember then I am sure it is not important," Ziva surmised.

"Do not make me ground you," Jenny tried. "I will call the CDC and tell them you and Tony were exposed to the same toxin that Jethro and I encountered. I can promise you a fortnight's stay in a tiny, shared room."

Ziva had backed away from her partner slightly.

"Tony will constantly remind you about the time he had the plague," Jenny continued, warming to her theme. "And when he's not whining, he'll inform you of every movie that could possibly be related to a biohazard or a toxin or a spell in quarantine."

Ziva settled for glaring at her partner one final time before returning to her desk. Tony breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Director."

Jenny smiled sweetly at Ziva before turning her attention to DiNozzo. "Oh, believe me, I didn't do that for you. Did no-one teach you females dislike having their hair messed with?"

Tony gulped, having realized Ziva was perhaps preferable over the boss' boss.

"Tell me, Agent DiNozzo, have you ever removed chewing gum from the hair of a Mossad assassin?"