Attitude Adjustment series.
Chapter One: In Over His Head.
Author: Aiden.
Fandom: NCIS/CSI Miami/Criminal Minds/Cold Case.
Pairing: Gibbs/Ryan.
Raiting: FRT 13.
Warning: Language, fighting, Ryan whumping, sorry guys will be fixed later.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, except for any OC. However I own the plot and the idea's coming from mine and my friend/beta/plotbuddy crazy minds.
Beta: SRS/Silvia *hugs* As always you rock and not only because of the beta part. *grins wide*
Spoilers: Kinda, got the kidnapping idea from the eppy Wolfe's in Sheeps Clothing.
Summary: Ryan is getting into serious trouble.
Author's note: Fourth part of my wereverse. Oh the idea for the cure I got from an eppy from Moonlight, sorry can't remember which one.

Furious with his mate, Ryan stormed into Gibbs' office and slammed the door back against the wall. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he growled, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"What do you mean?" Looking up from all the paperwork he hated, Gibbs took in his mate's heightened color. He'd been trying to avoid this confrontation, but knowing his mate – he should have known better. Hoping for a relaxed, innocent expression, Gibbs looked at Ryan with a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

Seeing his lover's face, Ryan hissed, "Don't even try it. You know what I'm talking about. I don't need a fucking watchdog!" Rolling his eyes angrily, Ryan held up two fingers in a V sign. "No, wait. Make that two fucking watchdogs!"

Giving up on the pretense, he sighed noisily. "It's for your own protection, Ryan."

Stalking forward, Ryan leant over the desk and glared at his mate. "I'm very capable of taking care of myself," he growled. "Call them off."

Reluctantly, Gibbs shook his head. "Can't do it. Do you have any idea how many threats I get a month? And now that everyone knows you're my mate, the threat extends to you as well." Gibbs stood and glared back his mate.

Very early on in their mating, Gibbs had realized that Ryan was his equal in a way no other wolf could hope to be. As well as stubborn, his mate never backed down from a fight and often gave as good as he got. Instead of regretting his mate's lack of submission and proper respect, Gibbs found himself smiling at the oddest moments. He'd grown to love Ryan's temper and fire.

"Do you think I can't take on those ignorant rogues?" Ryan asked coldly.

Moving around the desk, Gibbs sought to reassure his mate. "I know you are very capable of fighting the rogues, but please… humor me. It helps me sleep better at night," Gibbs said softly, cupping Ryan's nape gently.

Ryan watched his face for a few seconds before pulling back, reluctant to let Gibbs have his way. "Call them off or you're sleeping on the couch tonight," he threatened before he turned around and left the room.

As soon as his mate had left the office, Gibbs took out his cell and hit speed dial. "Morgan," he growled as soon as his beta answered the phone. "Send those two morons, who were supposed to be watching Ryan discretely, to my office."

Morgan snickered. 'He made them? I told you he-'

"Shut up, Morgan," Gibbs snapped. "Send them to me - now." Not waiting for a response, he clicked his phone shut and fumed.

He hated when Ryan got upset with him. Gibbs had always figured that being an alpha would ensure instant obedience, but apparently, no one had told his mate about that. When he was happy, his mate was warm and loving, responsive and arousing. However, on the very few times he'd angered his mate, Gibbs had found himself scrambling to make it better before he lost his mating privileges permanently. He snorted self-deprecatingly. He was whipped where Ryan was concerned.

A few minutes later, there was a timid knock on his door.

"Enter," he growled.

Two very nervous weres walked in, their gazes lowered fearfully. Stopping in front of Gibbs' desk, they waited for their alpha to speak.

"What part of 'discretely' did you not understand?" Gibbs asked abruptly.

One of the men dared to look up. "We stayed back… and uhm…made sure…uhm… that your mate…wouldn't notice…us," he stammered, a blush stealing across his cheeks.

"He made you," Gibbs growled, tapping a pen impatiently against the desktop. "How could you be so careless? This is not the first time you guys tail someone."

"Sorry, boss," the other man murmured. "We can do better next time."

Gibbs snorted. "There won't be a next time. For the next two months, you two are in charge of keeping the cubs safe while they're outside and babysitting them when their parents are out. Understood?" he glared at the two men.

The two men looked at each other and moaned. It was the worst punishment their leader could have given to them; Gibbs knew that they didn't like kids at all.

"Dismissed," Gibbs commanded.

Both men turned and left the office. Gibbs could hear them argue about who would have the first shift of watching the kids. He grinned evilly. That would teach them.

Hitting the intercom, he barked, "Morgan, send in the next two guys."

'What? You're going to try it again?' Morgan snorted, laughter lurking in his voice.

Gibbs growled. "Just do it."

~.~

Ryan noticed the black SUV as soon as he took the turn towards the highway.

"Bastard," he cursed. His mate was so on the couch tonight. Hitting speed dial on his cell, he waited for Gibbs to answer.

'Hi, baby,' came the alpha's voice over the phone. "Miss me already?"

Ryan growled. "Don't 'hi, baby' me! Didn't I tell you to call off your watchdogs!" he yelled through the phone.

'Sorry, I can't,' Gibbs said flatly.

"Well, fuck you!" Ryan cursed before clicking his phone off. Let's see how quick I can get rid of these two goofs.

It took him about a half-hour to shake them off. A big grin appeared on his face, he hit the steering wheel with his fist. "Yes! That'll teach him."

Looking around, he realized that he'd gone really out of his way trying to get rid of the bodyguards. "Damn," he cursed, making at a u-turn and driving back towards the highway.

As he reached the highway ramp, he saw a stalled car parked by the side of the road, hood open and smoke pouring out of the engine. A tall, tanned blond woman tried to flag him down.

Frowning, he found it strange that the woman had broken down there. That particular stretch of highway was seldomly used since it only lead to the pack's compound. Shrugging, he pulled to the side of the road and got out.

"Having car trouble?" he asked, smiling kindly.

"For a minute, I thought that no one would stop." She smiled sweetly at him. "Thanks."

Ryan smiled back. "No problem. Let see what I can do. By the way, I'm Ryan Wolfe," he introduced himself.

"I'm Jessica," she replied, her smile widening considerably as she looked him over. "And I know just who you are," she said with a smirk.

Before Ryan knew what happening, the woman pulled out a gun from a side pocket and pointed it at him. "What the fuck?" he cursed, shocked by the woman's actions.

"Don't do anything stupid. The gun is loaded with silver bullets, and I know that they can be very painful for your kind," she said with a sneer.

In seconds, three men stood up from behind dilapidated bushes by the side of the road. Too late, Ryan smelled the stench of rogues. Shit, how could he have been so stupid?

"What do you want?" Ryan growled, eyes glowing yellow and canines showing. Carefully, he tried to edge away from the approaching men, but the woman aimed the gun at his head.

"We want you to be very quiet and do exactly what we tell you to do," one of the rogues stalked towards him, gun in his hand.

Before Ryan could react, one of the rogues raised his gun and slammed the butt against the side of his face. Ryan fell to the ground as pain exploded throughout his head, his vision dimming.

"Grab him," one of the rogues ordered. "Great job," he said, but Ryan didn't know who he was addressing.

"Where's the rest of my money?" the woman asked, while rough, vile-smelling men grabbed Ryan and hauled him upright.

"Right here," the rogue replied glibly

Squinting, Ryan looked up just in time to see the large, scruffy man push his gun into the woman's side and pull the trigger. The sound reverberated as the woman sagged back against the broken-down car.

Stepping back, the rogue looked at the bleeding woman. "What a waste, but orders are orders." Signaling to the other men, they jumped into a dark van and sped off.

~.~

Still dazed from the pain, Ryan was thrown into the back of the van, where he banged his head against the side and passed out. When Ryan came to, the first thing he noticed was that he was sitting in a chair and that his hands and feet where bound tightly. Looking around, he noticed that he was in a bare room with gray walls. The only other furniture was another scruffy chair and a battered table. Even though the room was poorly lit, he didn't need a light to take in every last detail.

"Ah, you're awake," someone to his right side said.

Even as his head pounded, Ryan turned his head and looked at the man. "What do you want?"

"The cure." The man moved in front of him. The first thing that hit Ryan sensitive scent was the stench of old sweat. The short man probably hadn't bathed in days by the looks of his dirty hair and grimy clothes.

Surprised by the question, Ryan looked at the man with a puzzled expression. "What cure?"

"The cure for this barbaric condition," the man replied coolly. "You were once part of the Wolfram pack, right?"

Ryan really wanted to roll his eyes at the man. Only fools kept looking for a cure that didn't exist. Frowning, Ryan nodded. "Yeah, but what has that got to do with anything?"

"Your alpha." The man leaned forward, his eyes lighting up unnaturally.

"Nick Stokes?" Ryan asked.

The man shook his head. "No, Gil Grissom."

"He isn't the alpha of the Wolfram pack. He was the alpha of the old pack, back in Vegas." Ryan wondered what the man was hinting at.

The man smiled again, a creepy sort of grimace. "Yeah, he was, and he had two sons - adopted sons."

"I don't know of any sons," Ryan said, wracking his brain for any tidbit he might have heard about Gil and the old Vegas pack.

Suddenly, the man straightened and punched him in the face. "Don't lie to me!" he yelled, fury flushing his cheeks.

Tasting blood, Ryan hissed in pain. Damn, that had hurt. "I'm not lying to you. He has no sons, none that I know of anyway."

The man raised his hand again as if to hit Ryan again.

"Stop!" a voice bellowed from across the room. Ryan watched the man approached him. He was well dressed and didn't look like any rogue Ryan had ever seen. He was well muscled and impeccably groomed in an expensive suit. "Leave us," he ordered the other rogue.

The first rogue left reluctantly, growling as he walked away.

"Forgive him. He thinks he can make people talk by using brute force," the man said kindly as he neared Ryan. Sighing tiredly, the man spoke softly, "You know about the legend, right?"

"Every werewolf has heard that story, but that's all it is – a story," Ryan said, meeting the man's gaze.

The man looked at Ryan and raised an eyebrow. "What if I were to tell you that it's not a story, that a cure does exist?"

Ryan snorted. "Yeah? Who told you that?"

"There are two pure bloods, which come from a line of ancient werewolves. Direct descendants of Arnou, your great leader. They have the gene that can cure a werewolf," the man said mysteriously as he sat down across from Ryan.

For as long as Ryan could remember, he'd heard about the so-called cure that could heal an 'infected' wolf, since they still had some of their human DNA. It was different for a born werewolf because he was full blooded, not that any born werewolf would ever want to be human.

"That is just a story told to us as cubs," Ryan replied with a sigh. This man was not the first to be obsessed with stories about a potential 'cure', but no one had ever come across a single fact or shred of evidence.

The man shook his head. "It is true. The last known pure bloods lived with Gil Grissom for a very long time."

"Gil Grissom had no sons," Ryan said again, a little irritated with the situation. "And what do you want from me? I don't even live with them anymore."

The man grinned evilly. "No, but you are Jethro Gibbs' mate, and he has always been a thorn in my side. So, this will be the same as 'killing two birds with one stone'. You're our barging chip, and if they don't deliver, then you will die."

TBC.