Monday

"Damn machine." Gibbs muttered, slamming the offensive object to his desk.

Carly walked up in time to catch his comment. "PDA pissing you off Gibbs?" At the steely stare she received for that quip, she added, "Abby said you needed this ASAP."

"What is it?" Gibbs asked. Once again he was without his glasses.

"The analysis of the carpet fibers found on Private Nash's clothes. It's from an automobile, a Chevrolet Caprice, to be exact, made around 1985." Carly ended, nodding her head to emphasis the information.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked.

"On it, boss. Cross-referencing our suspects with owner registration's of a 1985 Chevy Caprice." McGee answered automatically, typing away.

"Call me when you get something. I'll be in autopsy."

"Yes, boss."

Carly was still standing there with the report in her hand. Tony looked over with a look of shared pain. "I feel it's a little late to warn you, Gibbs doesn't talk with anyone about his technology deficiencies."

"I could teach him how to use it." Carly offered.

With a shudder Tony replied, "I offered that once. His reply was that me teaching him was backwards."

Raising her eyebrows, Carly said, "I got it. No offers of help needed." She turned to McGee. "Not to interrupt you, but I'm Carly."

Not looking up from his computer, McGee nodded. "Tim McGee. It's nice to meet you. Thanks for bringing the results up."

Smiling, already on her way to the elevator, she told him, "You're welcome. And it's nice to meet you too."

When the elevator doors closed, McGee looked at Tony. "You weren't lying. She is pretty. But I don't

think she's as pretty as Abby."

Tony shrugged. "Nobody's as pretty as Abby in your book, McGee."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Back in the lab, Abby was muttering about slow computers. Carly placed the Caff-Pow in reach and went to her computer. "What's got you ready to kill your system?"

"Ziva needs me to go through Private Nash's computer files to see if he was documenting any of his actions before he died. All I am getting are error messages and I've already several virus scans with no luck yet on finding the problem."

"What if the virus you can't find is the information you're looking for?" Carly proposed.

Abby's head snapped up and she looked at Carly. "You're right. Let me see." She hit a few keys and all the execute files on the computer flashed on the screen. "Here it is. Oh man. This is a nasty one. It looks like he created a virus and then turned it loose one of his own computers. I can't find anything else that makes sense."

"Well, that must be it then."

"What must be it then?" Gibbs asked walking in with another Caff-Pow and his coffee. "Do you still need this one, Abs?" He asked when he noticed her still full cup.

"I always need those, Gibbs. And the ‘it' we were talking about is the computer virus that Private Nash created. He was smart, really smart. He was testing the virus on one of his own computers to see what it would do. He hadn't unleashed it anywhere else though."

"What would this virus do, Abs?"

"Gather financial information and make small, untraceable withdrawals from banks across the country." Carly told him reading the code over their shoulders.

"Right." Abby agreed.

"Don't they have viruses like that already and a fix for it?" Gibbs asked, frustrated with the seemingly unimportant information.

"Sure," Carly answered and Gibbs turned to her. "But this one doesn't need any personal information or account numbers. This virus wasn't going into a certain person or persons account, it was going straight into the funds the banks hold for their own needs."

"How would turning this thing loose on his own computer help?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"It would tell him whether or not the virus he set up could actually get enough info about the banks to hack into the banks money. It looks like he was almost there, too." Abby told him.

"Good work." Gibbs said and gave the coffee to Carly. At her look of surprise, he told her, "For the one I drank the other day." Then he walked out.

Amazed that he gave her a coffee, all Carly could say was, "He still hasn't shaved the ‘stache, Abby."

Abby laughed and turned back to stare at the monitor.