Gibbs walked into the NCIS bullpen rubbing the back of his head, wincing at the lump there. It was still smarting from the whacking Diane had given him with his golf club the night before.

He heard his new probie shrieking at his oldest, and rolled his eyes.

"Damn it, Stan!" Shepard snapped. "Stay out of my desk."

Gibbs turned the corner just in time to see her snatch something black and lacy out of his hand while Burley grinned impishly. Stan's head snapped forward as Gibbs' hand connected with the back of his head, and the younger man winced.

"Stay out of Shepard's desk," Gibbs warned, and Jenny grinned triumphantly, but it was instantly wiped from her face when he continued. "Maybe you should lock your desk, Shepard."

"Morning, boss," Stan mumbled rubbing his head.

What do we have on the Smith case?" Gibbs asked, sliding his chair up to his desk.

"Forensics should be done with the DNA we found at the scene by now," Stan piped up, and at Gibbs' look he scrambled up out of his chair. "I'll go see about that DNA."

Gibbs nodded with a glare, and returned to his unfinished paperwork as Burley disappeared into the elevator, leaving only Shepard in the bullpen other than him; Pacci was in LA with Special Operations . He looked up as Shepard approached him with an expression a hybrid of confusion and curiosity on her face.

"What did you do, back into a brick wall?" she asked, touching the considerable sized bump on the back of his head gingerly.

"Diane," he muttered, crossing the 'T' on his paper a little to hard, and Jenny smiled as she took a seat on the edge of his desk, seeing an opportunity to harass him.

"That's right, she moved out last night," she mused mockingly, and he glared up at her. "So what did she hit you with?" she asked a little to cheerfully, a chipper smile on her face.

"Golf club," he responded distastefully and she bust out in laughter.

"What did you do to piss her off?" she jeered.

"We got in an argument. I got fed up," he sighed, not wanting to say anymore than that.

"Well, just what did you say to make her hit you over the head with…what, A 9 Iron?" she probed.

He knit his brows briefly, wondering how she could know which club she had hit him with.

"I didn't do anything to deserve a clock to the head with a club," he insisted. "Diane is just crazy."

"Now that I won't argue with," she agreed, referring to his soon-to-be ex-wife's debatable sanity.

"Maybe you should stop messing around with red-heads, Gibbs," she advised, stressing his name mockingly as she hopped of his desk, returning to hers. "You know we've got tempers."

He grumbled something about leggy red-heads and their capabilities in bed, and Jenny smirked.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He returned from one of his ceremonious coffee breaks later that day to see Burley leaning over Shepard's shoulder, the both of them laughing hysterically at something on her computer screen.

They looked up as he rounded the corner, identical impish grins on their faces.

"Hey, boss," Burley greeted him, standing up straight.

"What are you doing at Shepard's desk, Burley?" he demanded brusquely, setting his coffee on his desk. "You don't have enough work to do?"

"Gibbs," Jenny said in patronizing, mock disappointment, a matching look on her face. "I think I have to side with Diane on the whole golf club thing. I wouldn't have thought you the type."

"What are you talking about, Shepard?" he demanded, wondering just what was giving his two agents so much pleasure.

"You uh, might want to take a look at this, boss," Burley suggested mysteriously.

Gibbs' curiosity got the better of him, and Burley returned to his desk as Gibbs took his place, looking over Shepard's shoulder.

His eyes widened at what he saw: on Jenny's screen was the Herpes Alert website, but what made him grab Jenny's desk so hard he thought he might dent it was his picture.

His picture was on the God-forsaken website. He didn't have Herpes. He would know if he had Herpes.

"Why are you on that site at work anyway, Shepard?" he asked tersely as he tried to keep his composure, and returned to his desk.

"I was going to put Burley up there," she revealed nonchalantly, and Stan's mouth dropped open.

"Not nice, Red," he growled, and she glared at him.

"Didn't I tell you not to cal me that?" she snapped. "Besides, it serves you right for going through my desk. I actually liked those underwear, you know? Now I have to burn them because you had your pervy hands all over them."

"Why do you even have underwear in your desk?" he demanded. "And black, lacy ones at that?"

"Because I'm a clean person, Stan. Sometimes we stay here for forty-eight hours or more, and I'd rather not wear the same underwear for two days," she shot back. "I have a change of clothes here too. More than I can say for you," she muttered.

"Get back to work," Gibbs snapped even as he laughed internally at the two of them. Shepard had it in for Burley, and he was beginning to think the man had a death wish.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he returned to his house that night, Diane was there.

"What are you doing here Diane?" he demanded contemptuously. "Do you not get the concept of moving out?"

"I forgot some things," she shot back, pursing her lips and lifted the box of said things into her arms.

"So, did you see the little advertisement I put out for you yet?" she asked, smirking as his eyes darkened a shade or two.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Diane?" he snapped, and she glared at him.

"It's called payback, Leroy," she seethed. "You probably do have it anyway; sleeping with your little tramp."

"Damn it, Diane! How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not sleeping with Jenny? I never was!" he insisted, his voice rising.

"Funny how you automatically assume I'm talking about her," she spat, assuming a reproachful stance he had seen too many times before.

"She's the only one you ever talk about," he pointed out.

"So there're more?" she shrieked. "How many do you have, Leroy?"

"I don't have any, Diane," he growled. "You're paranoid. Just get out of my house."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving him to drink his bourbon in solace.

The front door opened not five minutes later and he heard heels on his basement steps.

"Didn't I tell you to get out, Diane?" he barked, not taking his eyes off his task of sanding.

It was not Diane though who spoke, but Jenny.

"Little Miss 9 Iron was here?" she asked, grinning. "By the look on your face, I'm guessing you didn't get her to take your picture down."

"What do you want, Shepard?" he snapped snippily, and she raised a brow.

"Honestly Gibbs, I didn't your damn picture on the Herpes website," she shot back heatedly and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

He set his sander back on the bench and turned to her with a ghost of a smirk.

"What do you want, Shepard?" he asked again, though his voice held less of the acridity than it had before.

"We caught a break in the Smith case. You broke rule number three," she explained, leaning against the cement wall of his basement. "You know I could just hack the website and get your picture off," she offered as they climbed the steps.

He grabbed her coat from the rack by his door, and held it out for her silently.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she mused as they walked out the door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The following morning, Jenny was back on the Herpes Alert site, fully intending to carry out her threat and put Stan's picture up there. She got the shock of her life when she saw her picture already there.

"Stan!" she shrieked, and he looked up at her in defensive confusion.

"What?" he demanded.

"Don't play dumb, Burley. I'm going to kill you!" she vowed, her words dripping with venom.

"I didn't do anything!" he insisted, and she saw the sincerity in his eyes.

That left her wondering who could have put it up there. The only plausible person came to mind, and she erupted.

"That bitch!" she hissed just as Gibbs walked into the bullpen. "I'm going to murder your wife," she seethed.

"Ex-wife," he growled, taking his seat.