AN: Thanks to Kyrie, Lookithaslegs and Choosing_sarah for betaing this one. If you saw it posted on my LJ a few weeks back, this is a much different version. :)

Since this is very rules-based, here's a cheat sheet of the ones referred to in the story for those who don't know them all by number. Trying to work them into the flow of the story wasn't working because they have to know all the rules by number. :)

1: Never screw over your partner

6: Never apologize; it's a sign of weakness

9: Never go anywhere without a knife

10: Never get personally involved in a case

12: Never date a co-worker

13: Never, ever involve lawyers

15: Always work as a team

27: Two ways to follow: First way they never notice you. Second way, they always notice you

Gibbs stood outside MTAC leaning on the rail and watching the bullpen below. It had been a long several weeks trying to take down the Reynosa cartel, and this was the first day the whole team was back in the squad room. Nobody had been seriously hurt, but everybody was banged up, so Vance had taken them off rotation to finish up the piles of paperwork the case had generated.

He sipped his coffee, then shifted more weight onto his arms to take it off his knee. He hadn't decided if he was glad the bad one had taken the brunt of the bruising or not. Which was worse, one screamingly painful knee or two aching ones? He watched as Ziva headed out to get coffee for the boys and tea for herself. Knowing Ziva, she would bring him back another cup as well.

Tony started throwing paper balls at McGee, and Gibbs just rolled his eyes. It was like watching two dogs. Tony, despite being almost a decade older than the other man, was like a Lab puppy running around saying "Look at me! Love me! Give me attention!", and McGee was the older, quieter dog that just put up with it until the puppy got too annoying.

It didn't take long today, and soon the boys had an all-out paper war going. Tony ran out, and the supplies were in the file cabinet next to McGee's desk. Gibbs smirked, wondering how DiNozzo was going to pull off this one. When he tried to get more paper by speed, McGee caught him in a headlock. Gibbs bit back a laugh. He knew McGee had wrestled in high school, and the young agent was in much better shape than when he first started on the team. Tony did more weight-lifting, but he was at a positional disadvantage. McGee used it to back him against the file cabinet.

Gibbs wasn't sure exactly what happened next, but Tony stopped fighting and dropped to the ground. McGee let him go, and Tony scrambled to his desk. He turned away from McGee and buried his head in a file, the picture of a dutiful field agent. McGee followed him over and leaned against his desk. Gibbs could hear him apologizing to Tony, but also asking what was wrong. Gibbs wondered that too.

After a minute, Tony seemed to realize McGee wasn't going away. He whipped around and stalked off to the elevator. McGee followed. Gibbs was pretty sure one of them would flip the emergency switch as soon as the elevator started moving.

He decided it was time to head to the bullpen so he could referee if needed. By the time the elevator doors opened, Gibbs was sitting at his desk working on his report. Tony got off first, and Gibbs caught a glimpse of a hurt look before DiNozzo could paste on a smile and start in on McGee.

"I'm telling you, McWriter, there's an art to filling out these reports." Tony sat down and started in on a file. "Once you master that, they go much quicker."

"Yeah, Tony, whatever. There's an art to typing, too. You speed through the writing, I'll speed through the typing, and we'll see who gets done first." But when Tim sat down, his keyboard didn't start clattering. Gibbs wasn't sure what they had talked about in the elevator, but it definitely wasn't report-writing. And judging by the way they weren't looking at each other, they hadn't resolved whatever was going on. Gibbs decided to give them a little space.

"McGee."

"Yes, Boss?" He looked up.

"Help Abby in the lab."

"On it, Boss." When he hurried out without even asking what he was helping Abby with, Gibbs knew he'd made the right call. Tony settled down, tension leaving his body, eyes focused on the paperwork. Gibbs continued working, watching DiNozzo from the corner of his eye. The senior agent remained uncharacteristically quiet. Gibbs was about to get him talking when Ziva returned. She handed both men their coffee and set her tea on her own desk.

"Where is McGee?" she asked.

"Right here, Ziva," he said, his voice quiet. "Boss, Abby said she's set right now. She doesn't need any help." He settled back to work, but his lanky frame was tight with tension in a way it hadn't been before he went to the lab. Several minutes later, Gibbs glanced over to see McGee pinching the bridge of his nose.

When he finally sent them home that evening, Gibbs still wasn't sure what had gotten into his team. Once home, he headed to the basement to finish a couple of projects. Whatever was going on between the younger men, if it was serious, Tony would be by later.

The summer sun had finally set when Gibbs flipped the chair over and secured it in position. As he turned back to his workbench to grab the carpenter's glue, he heard hesitant footsteps on the basement stairs. He spread glue on one end of the chair rung and looked up to see not Tony, but McGee — the one team member who had never paid him a basement visit before. Tim hadn't been there since the day the FBI shut down NCIS to investigate La Grenouille's death back when Jenny was still alive.

Still, somehow he wasn't surprised. After what had happened earlier — whatever it was — McGee was obviously wrestling with something. Abby and Tony were the two team members McGee was closest to, and if both of them were tying him up in knots, that didn't leave the computer expert many options for a listening ear.

"Evening, McGee," he said.

He continued working on the chair, but catalogued the junior agent's appearance at the same time. McGee's jeans were faded and worn, not the dark designer jeans he wore to work. The T-shirt was plain gray, with frayed edges. Even if that hadn't given away its age, Gibbs would have known from how it hung on his agent's body that it was a remnant of his heavier days. His sneakers were beat-up running shoes. He looked as wrung out as his clothes. As McGee sat on the stairs, he slumped forward, resting his long arms on his knees. Just as Gibbs was getting ready to say something, McGee spoke.

"So, Boss, how did you get the boat out?"

Gibbs looked over. "Classified, McGee."

McGee smiled, but the grin faded almost immediately. But Gibbs had worked with him for long enough to know he would spit it out eventually. DiNozzo would deflect, Ziva would hide behind an impenetrable facade, and Abby would bury her worries in words, but McGee would speak once he was sure Gibbs was listening.

And so he waited.

After long minutes, McGee finally spoke.

"How did you come up with the rules, Boss?"

Gibbs paused and looked over at McGee. He wasn't sure what he had expected McGee to ask, but it wasn't that. He had thought maybe something more along the lines of how to deal with the enigma that was DiNozzo. Ducky had told Gibbs enough times that he was the expert on handling the senior field agent and his bundle of issues. But no, McGee stopped by for his first-ever basement conversation, and he was asking about the rules. Then Gibbs remembered the events leading to the takedown of the Reynosa cartel with all the secret trips and missions. It was a time when it seemed as though Vance's wink-wink, nudge-nudge style had infected his entire team, each of them handling an assignment; none of them working together as a team. Gibbs had invoked the rarely used rules in the 40s, the ones only Tony, Abby and Ducky had seen in action before. It had been a challenging time, and its effects likely would linger for months.

He tightened the clamp on the last re-glued joist and grabbed a sawhorse, placing it opposite McGee's spot on the steps.

"Shannon taught me the rules," he said. He thought back to that first meeting at the train station in Stillwater. "The day we met, she mentioned her rules, said everybody should have a code to live by." He smiled at the memory. "She wanted to make sure I wasn't a lumberjack, because she had a rule against dating lumberjacks."

McGee's eyes dropped, and his teeth started chewing on his lower lip. Gibbs waited, not certain what was running through his agent's mind.

"That's... that's nice that you still have that connection to her, Boss," McGee said, his voice quiet. He looked up, somehow reminding Gibbs of a small boy. "But I was wondering more about how you decided what deserved to become a rule. I mean, you don't have a lumberjack rule, and I don't imagine Shannon was the one who came up with Rule 27. I mean, who would she have a need to follow?"

"No, she didn't follow much of anybody," Gibbs said. "She always led the way."

"So where did the rules come from?"

Gibbs made a note of his persistence. It was quieter than DiNozzo's style, less intimidating than his own or Ziva's, but in some ways even more effective for being understated. No fireworks, just a refusal to let the conversation digress. Then again, between DiNozzo and Ducky, McGee got a lot of practice bringing conversations back on track.

"Some came from Mike. He has his own three rules, practical crime-scene stuff. Some come from experience, like Rule 9. Knife's gotten me out of more tight spots than I can count." Gibbs paused to look over at McGee. His wide green eyes were fixed on Gibbs, but his expression was neutral, so Gibbs continued. "Some are just common sense, like my Rule 1."

"Never screw over your partner. The law enforcement version of Semper Fi."

Gibbs nodded. "I suppose you could say that's a Corps rule."

"Rule 15 is another one of those, right? Always work as a team is another extension of Semper Fi."

Gibbs nodded. As McGee's brow furrowed, Gibbs opened his mouth, then closed it. He could see that McGee's computer of a brain was processing what he had said, so he sat back and waited. He only had to wait a few minutes.

"Boss, last month..." McGee's voice trailed off, and Gibbs thought back to everything that had happened: the trips to Mexico, the position Alejandro had placed Abby in by giving her that particular cold case, the parallel missions Vance had given McGee and DiNozzo to keep the Reynosas in check while Gibbs was tap-dancing his way out of couriering for them.

There were lots of things McGee could ask about, lots of places he and Tony might disagree. When they first learned of Macey's death, McGee had said they would track her killer and punish him to the full extent of the law. DiNozzo had added "or by any means necessary." Tim hadn't agreed; he remained silent. He and Tony drew that line in different places, always had. Tim would hack anything they needed, break any paper law that existed to get the information he needed to solve a case. But he always drew the line at actions that didn't involve a computer. He would break a computer lock without even asking permission, but he was also the one to remind the others of the need for proper paperwork when investigating a physical location. Gibbs didn't understand Tim's logic, but then again, he didn't understand most of what Tim did.

Gibbs dragged his wandering thoughts back to McGee. "Last month?" he prompted.

"We've been talking about the rules a lot lately," Tim said. "Last month was the first time Ziva and I even learned there were any rules in the 40s."

Gibbs nodded. "Haven't had to use those in a while. Closest we came was when Abby's lab monkey framed DiNozzo."

Tim nodded. "Rule 40: If it seems like somebody's out to get you, they are. That's pretty much the definition of what happened to Tony that time." He paused. "I'm actually wondering about some of the more common rules."

"Which ones?" Gibbs hoped whatever rules Tim brought up next would give him some clue about what had happened between his two agents earlier.

"Rule 12. Rule 15. Maybe even Rule 1." Tim said, but didn't elaborate.

Gibbs was even more confused. Rule 12 was one Tim had broken before — dating Abby early on was a violation of "never date a co-worker." But he wasn't sure how to put those together with the other two, especially involving Tony. Always act as a team and never screw over your partner were variations on a theme. Unless...

"Tony and Abby?" Gibbs never would have figured the two for a couple. They always seemed more like siblings to him.

"What!" Tim jerked upright. "How did you..."

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow. It was just as effective here as it was in interrogation. Tim's ears turned pink, but he answered.

"I swear, Boss, I didn't encourage either of them. I mean, I did say something to Abby when we were down in Mexico about noticing her looking really nice, but that was weeks ago. I didn't expect her to ask me to take her back. And I thought Tony was just messing with me last year when he made that online profile. I didn't think he was serious, or I never would have asked him why he thought it was funny to make me fall in love with him. I didn't expect him to actually tell me he was interested. I really didn't expect them to both do it today."

Only long training kept Gibbs from showing his surprise. It certainly explained a lot. He had been closer than he thought earlier today, comparing Tony to a Lab puppy looking for love and attention. A love triangle, especially one involving two agents on the same team, would affect both teamwork and partnership. Gibbs frowned, then spoke.

"What happened in the elevator?"

Tim frowned. "He admitted that he was interested in me. He said he knew I wouldn't want him because of all the pranks he's pulled, but he didn't realize I'd fallen for the online persona and he couldn't let me think it was just another prank. I didn't know what to say. I mean, he's Tony. He's always been the ultimate ladies' man. I just... I didn't say anything. I needed to think. And then you sent me down to see Abby, and she asked me out. I stalled her, told her I needed to think about it. And that's all I've been doing is thinking about it, trying to figure out what I want, and if I can get it without screwing things up with the team. I don't... Tony hurts. He doesn't let it show, but stuff cuts him pretty deep. If I go back to Abby, it's going to hurt him. I don't want to screw him over. And if I pick him, Abby's going to be hurt when she finds out, and it's going to make working as a team tough. And..." He paused. "Boss, this is going to sound pathetic, but you know my track record. The least crazy person I've even considered dating since Abby and I split up was Susan, the polygraph woman. And she wasn't exactly normal. Not to mention she turned me down when I finally asked. Breaking Rule 12 seems like the only way I'm ever going to find somebody."

Gibbs decided to tackle the easiest one first.

"You and Abby? Not sure that's really a violation of Rule 12, Tim. You two were together before, and it didn't affect your work. I trust you two to get it right." He paused. "Tony's tougher to predict, especially with emotional stuff, thanks to his family, but I trust you to get it right as well if you decide to go that route. So take Rule 12 out of the equation."

"Thanks, Boss, but all that does is make the 'neither' option less likely. And that wasn't one I really wanted to consider anyway." He sighed.

"So which ones do you want to consider?" Gibbs was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Tim and Tony both liking guysbut saying that would not help right now.

Tim sighed. "Well, if I decide to give it another shot with Abby, I'm probably shutting the door on Tony for good. And if I give Tony a chance, I have to find a way to tell Abby I'm seeing somebody without telling her who."

"Because it's Tony, or because he's a guy?" Gibbs asked.

"Not because it's a guy. Abby knows I'm... flexible. But you know her. She's going to try and figure out who the competition is, and Tony's managed to keep that side of himself hidden from her for almost a decade."

"Fair enough." He turned the subject back. "Those your only options?"

Tim shrugged. "I thought about dating both of them at the same time and seeing how things played out, but that seems like just asking for you to remind us all about Rule 15 — tough to act like a team when there's some competition going on. Besides, I don't do casual well."

Gibbs nodded, letting the smile he'd been holding back creep across his face. "Don't do it well, myself. Wish I did — probably have fewer ex-wives." He was rewarded with a snicker from Tim. "You don't think you could tell them both about this?"

"Aside from Tony's orientation not being my secret to tell? It's taken him a year to work up the courage to say something to me — finding out he's competing with Abby, which is how he'll see it, is going to totally mess with his insecurities." Tim ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up. "Abby would handle it fine. But enough people have messed with Tony's mind over the years. I'm not going to try and mess it up even more. That's just cruel. Not to mention asking for it to become an issue that affects how we do our jobs, and I don't want that. Isn't that why you have Rule 12?"

"I made Rule 12 when I was still a probie," he said, thinking back. "One of the agents on another team started dating the ME's assistant. This was before Ducky's time. It was fine at first, but soon we all learned to steer clear of either of them if they were having a fight. Especially if they actually were fighting in the office. It was... uncomfortable."

"Oh. I thought..." Tim trailed off, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Gibbs smirked. "I had the rule long before Paris." He turned serious again, realizing he was admitting something the team had only speculated on before. "Paris was just where I convinced myself it was OK to break it. And Jenny and I did a better job at keeping work and personal separate while we were together." He sighed. "Our problem was that we never could quite find a balance afterward. We didn't work together then, but once she became director, we butted heads."

"You've done that with every director since I've been here," Tim said.

Gibbs nodded. "With Morrow and Vance, it was always professional. Jenny and I could never quite draw that line back again. We could never quite keep it all professional. The personal always snuck in." He blew out a breath, reminding himself this was worth the discomfort if it kept the team together. "I envy you, Tim. You and Abby showed me it can work, that people can draw that line while dating and afterward."

Tim nodded, his face thoughtful. Gibbs could practically hear the gears grinding, or whatever the computer version was. Tim had never answered his question. He had just outlined the effects of choosing each option.

"Which option do you want to pick? You can't worry about their reactions until you know what you want. And do you really think they would want to do anything to break up the team?"

Tim frowned. "No, they wouldn't. But it's not that simple. I'm not sure I know what I want," he said. "I mean, I know what Abby's like. I know what works between us and what trips us up. But Tony... I haven't really wrapped my mind around the idea yet. But if the whole thing's going to blow up in my face, why even take the time to think about if I'd like it to work? Better to just write it off."

"This coming from the guy who got a tat on his ass to have a first date with Abby?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Not the same thing, Boss. I wasn't on the team then. And it's not like I would have kicked myself for getting a tat if things hadn't worked out between us."

"Not my point. You took a chance, didn't play it safe. One of the reasons I wanted you on the team. You were green, but you had guts. As long as this doesn't turn into one of those soap operas my second wife liked, I don't care what you decide. But don't make a choice because it's safe. Figure out what's going to make you happy. Respect everybody involved. It'll work out."

A long silence followed. Finally, Tim said, "Thanks, Gibbs." He stood to leave.

"Hey, Tim," Gibbs said. "Whatever you decide, good luck. Door's always open."

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said. He stood and walked upstairs. Gibbs returned to his workbench, wondering which path Tim would choose. He'd have to keep an eye on the three of them this week at work.

Gibbs considered what he'd learned. In retrospect, the clues were there. While Ziva was gone, McGee and DiNozzo had become closer. They didn't finish each others' sentences the way McGee and Abby did, but they had that same connection. He didn't know who McGee would choose, but he could understand why the man was struggling.