A/N; I've got no excuse. I was bored. Simple as that. Tell me what you think, virtual hugs and puppies to all that review! Or kittens, if you're more of a cat person.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I own nothing. All BTVS characters and NCIS characters are the property of their original owners.

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The call came in, and they were off. An unidentified body of a man had been found in a house belonging to a Lieutenant Samantha Beck. The Lieutenant herself was missing, and as of right now considered to be the prime suspect.

Gibbs and his team had been on the scene for less then fifteen minutes when a white van pulled up on the driveway. Ducky had arrived five minutes after the others, and had barley had time to give the dead man a quick once-over. He hadn't established the cause of death, or how long the man had been dead yet. He left body when he heard raised voices from the front of the house. He walked towards the commotion and was greeted by the sight of Gibbs in a heated discussion with a young man dressed in a crisp, well tailored, suit.

Wearing an eye patch.

The colour on Gibbs face had gone from light pink to bright scarlet in record time. This was HIS crime scene, HIS investigation, and above all HIS corpse! And now this snot-faced little punk was waving release papers in his face, demanding to take the body with him! He didn't seem rattled in the least by Gibbs arguments or claim of authority. He was just about to launch himself into another round of shouting when Ducky interrupted him.

“May I ask what all the commotion is about, Jethro?” The ME wore a curious look on his face, looking deceptively calm.

Before Gibbs had a chance to reply, the young man with one eye took it upon himself to answer him.

“I'm here to take the body. I have all the papers here. This case is off your jurisdiction, as I have tried to explain to the gentleman here.” A look of irritation had settled on the young man's face, but other than that he seemed unrattled by the NCIS-agents intimidating demeanour.

“And who's jurisdiction is it then?” Ducky asked, as mild mannered and polite as always. The young man gave him the papers he was carrying, and Ducky bent his head to scan them over. He didn't get further than to the letterhead.

Watchers Council.

Oh dear...

He handed the papers back and turned to Gibbs instead. He put a comforting hand on the other man's shoulder and looked up in his eyes.

“Give him the body, Jethro.” His tone was deadly serious and eerily calm.

Gibbs looked gobsmacked. “But...”

“Trust me on this. Give him the body, without much fuss. He is right. This is not our jurisdiction.” Ducky turned back to the young man and extended his hand.

“Its good to see that you are still out there. After the bombing a couple of years ago I was worried that you wouldn't be able to pick yourself up. I know I will sleep better at night knowing you're still doing your job.” He studied the young man's face intently. “What's your name?” He asked gently.

Now it was the young man's turn to look chocked. He took the extended hand gingerly and shook it, giving Ducky a look that was half suspicious, half astounded. “Alexander Harris.” he said.

“Pleasure to meet you, mister Harris. Although I must say that I hope our jobs won't put us in each others paths in the future. Have your men collect the body right now. I will clear it with NCIS.”

“Thank you, doctor...?”

“Donald Mallard. I have encountered your organisation before, and although it was an interesting experience I have no desire to relive it” he smiled.

Xander smirked back. He liked this older man, and began to relax slightly. He also looked vaguely familiar, but he had trouble placing him. He gestured to the two men that was with him, and within moment they had the body on a stretcher and in the back of the van. When they were done he extended his hand towards Ducky again.

“I appreciate the help, doctor Mallard. Thank you. I sincerely hope you won't have to see us again.” He offered a courtesy nod towards Gibbs, before he stepped in to the back of the van, and the vehicle left. Ducky saw them drive of, then turned towards the still chocked and fuming NCIS agent.

“Care to tell me what that was all about, Ducky?” he asked with an icy tone. The ME ignored his hostility.

“Perhaps now is not the time, Jethro. When you calm down, I might be able to give you some answers. In the meantime, let me collect mister Palmer and my kit, and lets get back.” With those parting words he turned and walked inside the house, leaving a perplexed and still very angry special agent Gibbs behind on the driveway.


###


Xander leaned back against the wall of the van and closed his eyes. He sighed. In reality, this had gone far better than he'd thought, but he still hated these kind of assignments. He nudged the corpse non too gently.

“Wakey wakey Bleach Boy. You can stop snoozing now.”

There was muffled curses comin from inside the body bag, and the previously still corpse started wiggling.

“Unstrap me, you git! I can't get out of the bloody bag!”

Xander sighed again and started loosening the straps that held Spike to the stretcher. He lowered the zipper on the bag and the vampire struggled out of the confinement.

“'bout time you got there. I was getting tired of the whole 'corpse-gig'” he muttered.

“It's your own fault Spike. Seriously, getting knocked unconscious on a simple staking mission? Clumsy doesn't even begin to cover it.” Xander smirked evilly at him. “You know Buffy's not gonna let you live this down, don't you?”

“I wasn't prepared to take on the bitch's sire and five of his flunkies! I staked all but one, the bastard snuck up behind me. He must've had a crowbar or something to knock me out that cold. Not my bloody fault!” He looked sullen. “When I came too they'd already found me and the doctor you were so chatty with out there was just about to start prodding me”. He shuddered. “Glad you got me out before he could take my liver temp. Owe you one, whelp.” He cast a grateful look towards Xander.

Xander shrugged self-consciously. “No sweat. Buffster would eviscerate me if something happened to you. You were gone over a year, man, I don't think she'd want to lose you again.”

“Grateful all the same, mate.” Spike leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn't wait to get back to Buffy. The ride continued in silence for a couple of minutes before Xander spoke up again.

“Is it just me, or did that doctor look a lot like the man from U.N.C.L.E?”

It had been three days, and he was still angry. Pissed as hell that a crime under his jurisdiction had been snatched away from him right under his nose. It wasn't that it was a particularly important case, he had no personal interest in the victim or anything else for that matter. It was the principle of the thing!

This was his case, dammit!

Someone was holding out on him. Someone had taken the body, and according to his superiors it had all been very legal and straight, with the right paperwork and everything. It had all been very neat. Too neat...

One-eyed men in mysterious, unmarked vans that took bodies from crime-scenes... there was something not quite right with that picture. He snorted to himself. Too right there was something wrong with that picture! It sounded like a bad spy-novel for crying out loud!

He'd been like a terrier after a bone the last three days. He'd been barking up every possible tree, the director, the FBI, various contacts within various branches of law-enforcement, the government and some of his seedier underground 'acquaintances'. There had been nothing.

Well, that wasn't quite true. There had been sincere confusion from most of the people he'd talked to. They didn't seem to know anything, except that there was nothing he could do about the situation. It was all legit. But there had also been some strange reactions when they realised just what 'organisation' that was behind all this strangeness. The Watchers council... that name had turned a few heads.

Strangely enough, the reactions had come from the people on opposite sides of the information chain. His contacts closest to the streets and the people high up, closer to the government had definitely known something, but they were all very tight-lipped about it. But what knowledge could a senator and a former drug dealer have in common? It didn't make any sense. Both his boss and Fornell from the bureau had appeared totally clueless. He had hit a brick wall.

But he hadn't really, had he? There was one more he could ask. Someone that had manage to avoid him almost completely for the last three days. Ducky.

It was time to corner the doctor.


***

He had just donned himself in his hat ad coat, and was ready to head home. It was late, he was tired, and he had a 37-year old Glenfiddich waiting for him at the house. He was a firm believer that a small glass before bed was good for your health. It certainly helped him sleep better.

When he was less then two feet from the door it suddenly opened and revealed a grim-faced Leroy Jethro Gibbs on the other side. Ducky stopped in his tracks, sighed, and whipped his hat off. The unwanted confrontation he had been trying to avoid for three days had caught up with him. He turned and walked back towards his desk. Gibbs followed.

Ducky sat down in his chair heavily. Gibbs remained standing, looking at him without saying a word. After a few tense seconds of this, Ducky felt like he had to speak first.

“I am assuming you are here to talk to me about the incident with the now missing body three days ago?”

“You know something. You seemed very familiar with the organisation that took over the investigation, and you have been avoiding me for the last 72 hours. You said you'd talk to me. Now talk!”

“I said I might be able to give you some answers when you'd calmed down.”

Gibbs slowly leaned down and put his knuckles on the desk. He leaned forward towards Ducky's face.

“How long have you known me, Ducky?” he asked with a calm voice. “How did you think I would react? This is as calm as I'm gonna get before I get some answers.”

Ducky sighed again. He knew Jethro all to well, and he could envision his reaction when he told him a story about vampires and demons, and people that devoted their life to fighting them. That was not going to go over well. But he knew Gibbs would not let this go.

He made his decision.

“I am going to tell you a simile. A story that seemingly has nothing to do with this case, but has some similarities. A scenario, if you will. When I'm done, you can decide if you want to know more.” his gaze never wavered from Gibbs' eyes. “Can you be satisfied with that?”

Gibbs stood up straight and rounded the desk. He sat down on the edge of it and tried his best to stare Ducky down. “Why can't you just tell me straight on what's going on?”

“Because you won't believe me.”

Gibbs blinked. He hadn't anticipated that. But Ducky had an open, sincere look on his face, and he'd never had any cause to doubt him before. He was one of his best friends, and he would trust him with his life. Which was why it was so hard to know the older man was hiding something from him.

“All right, fine. Tell me your simile. But when you're done, and I want you to continue talking, you will. Got that?”

“Loud and clear, Jethro. Loud and clear.”

Ducky leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. After about half a minute he started talking.

“In 1981 a Soviet submarine ran aground about two miles from the main Swedish naval base at the time, in a restricted military zone. It was stuck on a rock for almost ten days. It was huge news all over the world. Do you remember this?”

Gibbs stared at him incredulously. “What the hell has that to do with my missing corpse?!”

Ducky sighed. “Absolutely nothing. That's the point. It's a simile, Jethro. Will you just hear me out?”

Gibbs nodded grudgingly and Ducky continued.

“The submarine crew claimed it was an error in navigation, and that they thought they were about ten miles off the coast of Poland. The Swedish government however saw the intrusion as an act of espionage. The swedes secretly started measuring for radioactive materials through the hull of the sub, and they detected uranium, probably from a torpedo with the power of the Nagasaki bomb.”

“I have a weak memory of it. It was a big political scandal.” Gibbs looked thoughtful as he tried to remember something that had happened more than 25 years before on another continent.

“Yes it was. More than you think. The Soviet navy sent a rescue task force to reclaim the submarine, and it was mainly composed of heavily armed destroyers and high-sea tugs. However, Sweden was determined to safeguard the country's territorial integrity, and the coastal artillery locked on the Soviet ships as soon as they came within radar distance. The Swedish Prime minister had issued the order to 'hold the border', which meant that if a Soviet vessel came within the twelve-mile territorial limit the Swedish armed forces would open fire. What do you think the consequences would have been of that?”

Gibbs eyebrows rose as he considered the implications of such an act. “It would have been an act of war! It would have started a conflict between a neutral country and the Soviet union that could have dragged the rest of the world with it! It was in the middle of the cold war, the U.S wouldn't have been able to stay out of it! My God, It would have been disastrous!”

Ducky smiled a little. “Yes, exactly. I see you're starting to understand. The soviet government also realised this, and gave the orders to stay out of Swedish territorial waters. After ten days a couple of Swedish tug-boats dragged the sub back to international waters where it was greeted by the rescue force. The situation had been deflated.”

Ducky quieted. It was completely silent for a couple of seconds before Gibbs spoke.

“Well? What does this have to do with anything?”

Ducky sighed again, but continued talking. “The Soviet authorities had not anticipated such a strong reaction from the Swedish government. They thought they would be able to just sail right in and take back their missing submarine, without any consequences. Since Sweden was a small, neutral country without any real power global-wise, they imagined they could just bully the Swedish government into giving in to their demands. It didn't work. Several newspapers dubbed Sweden as 'the mouse that roared', since such a small country dared to stand up to the super-power of the soviet union.” He quieted again, but not for long.

“Do you see where I'm going with this, Jethro?”

Gibbs shook his head. “I can honestly say that I don't.”

“In our scenario, with our missing corpse and the organisation that claimed the investigation, you, my friend, play the part of Russia.”

Gibbs face was a mask of confusion and indignation. “What?”

“You are the soviet union, and the watchers council are Sweden. Yo are trespassing on their territory, and since you are used to getting your own way in these matters you expect them to cave eventually and give you what they want. I'm telling you Jethro, that you have put yourself in the same situation that the Soviets did all those years ago. You cannot bully them into giving in, and pressuring them will ultimately lead to consequences you will not be willing to face. The watchers council may appear small and insignificant, but they have more leverage than you think. They will retaliate, and you might unleash powers you're not ready to face. The soviet chose the peaceful way out of a sticky situation, and although they damaged their relationship with Sweden for decades ahead, they managed to come out of it relatively unscathed. What will you do?”

Silence ruled yet again. Neither one of them said anything, until Gibbs sighed. He rose from his position at the edge of Ducky's desk.

“I am not satisfied in the least. That little story you just told me only served to make me even more convinced there is something to this that I need to know about. You promised to tell me if I wanted you to. Will you keep your word?”

Ducky nodded courtly. He really didn't want to, but he had no choice. He knew that Jethro would just dig and dig until he found out what he wanted.

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a business-card. On it was a name and a phone number, nothing else. He had spent some time the last three days trying to acquire it, since he had known all along it would eventually come down to this. It had not been easy, but he had done it. His dealing with the watchers in the past had really been a huge help.

Gibbs took the card from Ducky's hand and looked at it.

“Rupert Giles”, he read out loud. “Who's this?”

“Someone with the answers you're looking for.” Ducky answered him.

Gibbs still didn't look convinced. “Why can't you just tell me yourself? You obviously know something.”

Ducky shook his head. “Again, Jethro, I would if I could, but you would not believe what I have to say.” He indicated the card in Gibbs' hand. “That man could give you solid proof of what you are going to hear, and you will need it, trust me.”

Gibbs looked down at the card again. Then he looked at Ducky, nodded curtly at him and turned around and left. He had a phone call to make.

Ducky sighed and shook his head. He stood up and put on his hat again. He could practically hear that Glenfiddich calling his name.

Giles picked up the phone on the second ring, without taking his eyes from the rapport in front of him.

“Rupert Giles speaking.”

“Mister Giles, there is someone called 'special agent Gibbs' on line two for you. He says he's NCIS. Shall I put him through?”

Giles frowned at first, searching his mind for information on why someone from the National Crops Insurance Service would be wanting to talk to him, but when his brain finally caught up with him his eyes snapped up from the paper he was reading. It was not the National Crops Insurance Service, it was the Naval Criminal Investigative Service! This phone call probably had something to do with that staking mission Spike botched up a couple of days ago.

He sighed, and asked his assistant to put the call through.

“This is Rupert Giles. How may I help you?”

“This is Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS. I'm calling about the murder victim your organization stole from my crime-scene three days ago.” The man's voice was terse, and he was obviously annoyed. Straight to the point without any pleasantries. Giles mouth twisted in an involuntary smirk. This phone call might turn out to be interesting.

“Agent Gibbs. I must say I am quite surprised to hear form you. As I understand it there were no problems with the paperwork in that case, and everything seemed to have been in order. May I ask why you are calling now?”

On the other side of the line, Gibbs bristled at the condescending tone from the distinguished Englishman. “I am calling, mister Giles, because I generally don't just take it in stride when mysterious organizations just breezes in and steal a corpse from one of my murder cases!”

“Ah, but there is were I fear our wires have been crossed somewhat. It is, in fact, not your murder case. It's ours. The... 'victim' had ties to the Watchers Council, and thus the case fell out of your jurisdiction. Had the body of someone connected to the Navy been found I understand that the matter would have been different, but as it is now, the only thing connecting NCIS to this particular case is the location in which the body was located. Am I correct?” He did not add that the body of the unfortunate naval lieutenant had in fact been found and then promptly staked by Spike. The dust was probably fertilizing the front lawn of her house right now.

Gibbs was not about to give up that easily, and he had been expecting something like that.”My people were the first ones on the scene, and the call came in to us. This is my case and my crime scene!”

The debate went on like that for approximately fifteen minutes before Giles had had enough. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was one of the most obnoxious and stubborn people he'd ever had the displeasure of dealing with, and he'd worked for Quentin Travers for twenty years and he was currently employing William the Bloody.

William the Bloody...

An evil smile grazed his lips. Spike may be the answer to his problem. Oh God, that was a sentence he'd never thought he would think...


***

The fierce battle had been raging for over twenty minutes, and neither of the combatants had yet to show any indication that they were tired or ready to yield. A flurry of kicks and punches were traded back and forth, but they all missed or just grazed their goals, failing to do any harm.

Then, finally, he saw an opening, and with a feint punch to the left that she easily avoided he kicked low and before she knew what happened she was on her back with his fangs grazing her throat.

There was the sound of applauds.

“Well done you two. That was quite entertaining.”

Seeing her opponent was temporarily distracted, the girl took this opportunity plant her feet on the floor and buck under her captor, flexing the strong muscles in her legs so that she managed to flip them over and land her on top. She locked his wrists in a strong grip over his head and smirked down at him.

“You're dust, Buster!”

He laughed out lout at that. “Oh yeah kitten, you won fair and square this time. But you'd better thank Rupes for that victory. If he hadn't interrupted you'd have been on my dinner menu tonight.”

She smiled and bent down so her lips were only inches from his ear. “I thought I already was.”

He shuddered, her husky voice doing very interesting things to his body, but before their intimate position on the floor could go any further, Giles cleared his throat behind them and they were forced to separate.

“Well yes, that was, um... quite an interesting demonstration, Buffy. Spike, may I have a quick word with you?”

Spike arched an eyebrow and looked at the watcher questioningly. Giles could barely stand being in the same room as him most of the time, and for the two of them to have an actual conversation... well, that just didn't happen.

Buffy looked back and forth between the two men. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked. In truth she was wary of leaving them alone together.

“Oh, no, that won't be necessary. You might want to hear this as well.” He took of his glasses and started cleaning them, out of old habit. “I just got an interesting phone call. A special agent Gibbs from NCIS called, wanting to talk about the missing ”murder victim” that a mister Harris collected a couple of days ago.” He put his glasses back on and looked at Spike. “That would be you.”

Spike snorted at that, and Buffy smirked. “Yeah, that was an slap 'n tickle. I'm just glad you got me out of there before I woke up on the autopsy table and scared the poor Doc to death.”

Even Giles had to smile at that image. “Yes, well, agent Gibbs wasn't too happy about the events. I believe he feels like we stepped on his toes a bit. In fact, I think he might present a problem down the road, if we don't deal with his... inquisitive nature as soon as possible.”
“An' how do you propose we do that?”

“How would you feel about a field trip, Spike?”

A full fledged smile appeared on Spikes face. This sounded like it might be fun!


***

After much cursing Xander finally found his cellphone under the coffee-table and was able to answer it.

“Xandman speaking!”

“Xander, this is Giles. I have a job for you.”


***

The Monday At NCIS headquarters in the Washington Navy Yard started like any other, but with Ziva, Tony and McGee treading on eggshells so not to worsen their boss' already crappy mood. Ever since the 'case-that-wasn't', he'd been almost impossible to please. Well, even more than usual. And it didn't help that the day's since then had been unusually quiet. They hadn't gotten a single new case to distract Gibbs with.

Suddenly the phone on Tony's desk rang, and he eagerly answered it. Maybe this was the brake they'd been waiting for?

“Dinozzo here.” Silence. “What?” More silence. “Uh, sure. I'll get Gibbs”. He hung up. Ziva and McGee was staring at him.

“Who was that, Dinozzo?” Tony jumped in his chair. His boss had sidled up silently behind him. Again.

“That was security boss. Two guys are asking to come in and meet with you. Says they're from the Watchers Council.”

Ziva and McGee perked up. Maybe this was their answer to their prayers?

Gibbs' face was emotionless, but there was an unmistakeable twinkle in his eyes. “Tell security to escort them up. And give Ducky a call and tell him to get up here.”

“Yes boss.” Tony lifted the phone. Gibbs, Ziva and McGee went over to stand in front of the elevator doors.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened. The first person to come out was the man with the eye-patch they all remembered from the crime-scene. He smiled at them and stuck his hand out. “Special Agent Gibbs, it's a pleasure meeting you again.”

Gibbs shook his hand.“Mister Harris.”

Xander smiled at him. “May I present my colleague?” He indicated the shorter bleached blond man standing behind him in the elevator. “This is Spike.”

“'lo all!” The corpse they all remembered from the crime scene directed a feral grin at them. “Nice to meet you. Again.”

There was complete and utter silence.

Ducky stepped out of the lift, wondering why exactly Jethro had called him upstairs. Usually when someone needed his expertise they came down to him. Maybe he had a live costumer for once? It had happened before that he'd had to patch up live patients upstairs, mainly because most people tended to feel a bit uncomfortable in the morgue.

There was no one by the lift to greet him when it stopped. Not that he'd expected it too be, but still... there were a cluster of people gathered around the other elevator, the one across the room. Apparently someone had come from the outside and demanded everyone's attention.

Suddenly he got a feeling that all that mess with the watchers council had culminated into this...

He had to admit he was curious. As he'd said to young mister Harris a few days ago, he'd had previous experience with the elusive Watchers Council, and he had no desire to relive the experience. But still...

He ambled over to the people gathered around the elevator doors. He could see now that it was Jethro and his team. What he couldn't see though, was what they were all staring at.

“You called for me, Jethro?”

His question broke the silence and the people started a little. They all looked back at him, and when they parted he got a better view of the guests they had apparently been in the process of greeting. He recognised the young man with the eye-patch right away, and the young man beside him...

“Oh dear...” he sighed.

***

They were all gathered in the morgue, a place were it could be certain that they would be granted some privacy. All eyes were on Spike and Xander, the former leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed and with a smirk on his face, the latter standing beside him, hands in the pockets of his designer pants. His face bore the look of amiable calmness, only marred slightly by the pirate accessory over one eye.

Gibbs had been exceptionally calm, but those who knew him recognised his demeanour as the build-up before the explosion. No one in his team had dared open their mouths, but all of them had variations of the same confused thoughts buzzing around in their heads;

'That guy was dead a few days ago...'

The only one in the room that wasn't overly shocked to see the walking, talking dead man was Ducky. He had already surmised that the body from the crime-scene had to be a vampire, as soon as he's seen the Watcher council insignia on the release papers. What he was confused over though was why the vampire was here now. He'd thought they would have staked it as soon as they were away from the prying eyes of the NCIS. And he also wondered why the vampire in question hadn't attacked anyone yet, not to say he wasn't grateful for that of course.

“I understand you had some questions?” The easy-going smile never left Xander's face when he spoke, and that only served to make Gibbs even angrier. Tony's face paled when he saw the expression on his boss' face.

“Starting with why I'm staring at my missing corpse.” The tone could have thawed an iceberg, and then frozen it solid again.

“It's the florescent lights in here. They make me look dead.” Spike smirked. Ziva had to quell the urge to take cover behind the autopsy table when she noticed Gibbs' body language.

Spike had always had a talent of reading people, and he studied the specimens before him with care. The three goons hiding behind the big man was this lot's equivalent of the Scoobies, the ever helpful background team, ever vigilant of their leaders commands. Well no, not really he corrected himself. Those three was what the Scoobies should have been like.

The doctor, however, confused him a bit. He knew the older man knew what the council was, he'd heard that much from Xander, and so, presumably he knew about Vampires as well. But he looked far to... calm. He had a look on his face of gentle curiosity. Not the reaction he would have expected.

Special agent Gibbs on the other hand followed the script perfectly. He could see the man fuming, simmering under the surface, and now he was eagerly anticipating the explosion.

Spike had underestimated the older agent, however. Gibbs had a tight grip on himself, and he would not fly of the handle that easily. He would not give them the satisfaction. The blonde punk rubbed him the wrong way, and not only because he was supposed to be dead.

Xander intervened before anything could happen. “Look, I know you have been a little... testy because of this,” he began, “and we're sorry if we stepped on your toes.” Spike snorted, and Xander amended; “Well, maybe Spike's not.”

“Right.” Spike said.

Xander continued as if he'd not been interrupted. “We know doctor Mallard have heard of our work before, so if you don't believe us you can look to him for confirmation of what you're about to hear, okay?”

All eyes fell on Ducky, but his eyer were trained on the vampire. So this was the infamous Spike... Now he was even more confused. Why would a quarter of the scourge of Europe play nice with the watchers council?

“Now,” Xander said when he'd regained their attention. “What do you know about vampires?”

Now, Gibbs exploded!

He took a couple of menacing steps forwards until he invaded Xander's personal space. He glared at the man with a thunderous expression on his face. This incarnation of Gibbs could have had the president of the United States quiver in his boots, but to Xanders credit he barely flinched.

“I am not in the mood for jokes, Harris!” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

Xander gave him a rueful smile.“For once, neither am I.”

Gibbs felt someone touch his shoulder. He turned sharply and locked eyes with Ducky. His eyes widened when he saw the expression on the doctors face. He shook his head.

“You can't be serious!”
“I'm afraid this is extremely serious, Jethro.” Ducky said. “You should listen to these two.”

“I have a feeling he would rather listen to you,” Xander spoke up. “Why don't you tell him what you know, and then we'll fill in the blanks.” He glanced over at Spike. “With some... visual aids.”

Ducky cast a wary glance towards Spike as well. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

“Don't worry doc, I won't bite.” Spike offered him a toothy grin. He was loving this!

That assurance really didn't settle Ducky's nerves much, but he sighed and started talking.

“In my younger,more idealistic days I did some pro bono work in a small clinic in an... obscure part of London. We had to treat a lot of unusual injuries.”

“Let me guess,” Tony suddenly intervened. “They were of the 'I fell in a barbecue-fork' variety?”

Suddenly all eyes were on him. “We had a few of those in Philly and Baltimore. When someone found a body with unidentified neck-trauma that was the usual explanation.” Everyone stared at him, and the two outsiders looked like they had a hard time to keep themselves from laughing out loud. “I never said it was a good explanation” he grumbled.

“Ehrm... yes. Those kind of injuries.” Ducky continued. “and then, one time, we got to a patient too late. He was dead, no pulse, nothing. I and an older colleague had just declared him deceased when he woke up.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly while he tried his best to remember. “His face was distorted, and his eyes were... I swear they were bright yellow! His teeth had elongated, and he grabbed me and yanked me down. He would have bit me, but my colleague acted fast and thrust a piece of wood in his heart. The next thing I knew the... man was gone, and the bed was covered in dust.”

“Vamp-dust.” Xander shook his head. “It's a bitch to get out of the linens.” He shrugged when he saw the looks he got at that. “Please continue, doctor.”

“Right... well, it turned out that my colleague had a brother who was working for the Watchers Council. Apparently it was a bit of a family tradition, since his father had been a watcher too. He told me an amazing story about vampires, watchers and slayers, something I never would have believed f I hadn't seen what I saw that day. And I always worked with a stake in my pocket from then on. I still have it, It's in my desk drawer.”

“What's a slayer?” Tony asked. Xander saw this as his opening.

“Unto every generation a slayer is born. She alone will fight the forces of darkness, yada yada yada. Basically, It was one girl in the world who with the help of super-strength and a very shortened life span fought the vampires, demons and various ooglie-booglies that was hankering to destroy the world. That was until a couple of years ago, when the latest slayer, with the help of her friends, worked some mojo that made all the potential slayers all over the world into full-fledged vampire killers. It's no longer only one, there are thousands around now. And it's our job, as the reformed watchers council, to train and guide them. A rogue slayer can be very dangerous.”

Gibbs had been very quiet for the entire explanation, but now he couldn't hold it in any more.

“Have you all gone completely insane?!”

“An' that's my cue,” Spike said, and morphed into game-face. There was a collective gap, and then the four NCIS-agents drew their guns at him.

“It won't help, unfortunately.” Ducky said calmly. “You can only kill him by staking him in the heart with a piece of wood, decapitation or sunlight. I believe setting him on fire might be proficient as well.”

“Right you are, doc!” Spike beamed at him, and switched back to his human features.”Someone's been doing their homework! But I'd rather you didn't. See, I'm a reformed vamp, nowadays”.

“And his girlfriend would be pissed. Believe me, you don't want an angry slayer after you.” Xander chimed in.

“What were you doing on the crime scene?” McGee spoke up for the first time. He was at the same time scared shitless and extremely intrigued by all this.

Xander tossed Spike a smirk. “Captain peroxide was there on a simple staking mission. We had word that a couple of vamps were gonna set up a nest close by, and we tracked them to that house. Apparently it wasn't as simple as he'd thought it would be, because he managed to get knocked unconscious.”

Spike glared at him. “I'll have you know I got all but one of them.”

Xander shrugged him off. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, when he didn't come back at the designated time, we had to check out what had happened, and when we got there there the house was crawling with you lot.”

“How come you had the necessary papers to remove him?” Ducky asked.

“Standard procedure. An unconscious vamp is nothing but a corpse, no pulse, no heartbeat, no breath, and a cold body temp. We've had to pick up vamps before, just not one of our own. Well, we really only have one.” He pointed a thumb towards Spike.

“About that,” Ducky frowned. “What is William the Bloody doing working for the Watchers Council?”

Gibbs, Ziva, Tony and McGee started at the rather gory moniker, but Spike just beamed at the older man.

“Heard of me, have you? 'm flattered!” He shrugged. “Simple really. A series of strange circumstances landed me in the hands of the slayer, and before you knew it I was in love. The next thing I knew, I'm in Africa fighting for my soul. Had to be separated from my girl for a while, but now I'm back with her.” His gaze unfocused as he talked, and his smile toned down a bit. “What we do for our women, eh?” He looked almost embarrassed.

No one had yet to lower their guns, but they seemed more perplexed than scared now. Gibbs spoke up.

“So this is your explanation? Vampires?”

“Yeah,” Xander said. “Pretty much.”

Gibbs lowered his weapon, and the others followed him. He studied Xander and Spike intently for a couple of seconds before he spoke again.

“Okay.”

There was a baffled silence. Tony was the first one to react. “Okay? What do you mean, boss?”

Gibbs holstered his gun. “I mean, it's okay. It's like Abby's technology-babble. I don't understand it, and I have no intention of ever learning about it, but it's still there. And there should be experts on all areas, as long as I don't have to deal with it.”

“Wow...” Xander just looked at him. “That was... not the reaction I had anticipated.”

“Neither had I,” Ducky said. “It seems I underestimated you, Jethro.”

“It seems so.” Gibbs said dryly. “Now, if we're done here, I'm sure we all have some real work to get back to.” and with that he left the morgue, leaving his baffled team and the two strangers behind
him.

Tony nudged McGee. “What do you think Abby would have given to hear about this?”

McGee gave him a strange look. “What are the chances that she doesn't already know all about it?”

Tony thought about that for a second. “Probably very slim.” he amended.


FIN