#gibbs x ducky

[academicgangster]

Gibbs x Ducky

Since when have you waited for an invitation? Don't answer that.

[ncis-yp]

Get in the Truck (Jethro Gibbs x reader) [SMUT]

The bullpen was quiet ever since you and Jethro had your big argument while you were out investigating a case and the pair of you wouldn’t talk to each other. Tony and McGee exchanged quiet looks of uncertainty as Gibbs walked in.

You sat now at your desk, fuming. You looked up at him as he passed you.

“You have a problem, (l/n)?” He asked. You hadn’t responded. “Do you have a problem, (y/n)?” You continued to glare at him. “I asked you a question Marine, answer me.��

“No.” You said coldly. His icy blue eyes staring right into yours. Two fiery glares being exchanged in silence.

“(Y/n) what exactly happened out there?” McGee asked.

“Yeah… I’m with McNosy on this one” Tony agreed.

“I said something he didn’t like. I did something he didn’t like.” you respond not looking up from your paperwork. They boys had receded back to their work, leaving you be… you obviously weren’t in the mood. Jethro clenched his jaw.

What felt like hours later, you grew bored of your filing work and grabbed the remaining 20 something files, you dropped them onto his desk. You locked eyes with him as they landed with a deep thud. You decided you would go toe to toe with you boss and boyfriend at the same time.

“Here Jethro. That’s for you” you say and grab your coat. “I’m taking my lunch break” you walked out. It was his turn to fume now. Tony and McGee looked at each other as they argument was waiting to break out. He glared daggers into your back as you stalked to the elevator.

“Boss…” DiNozzo began.

“Shut it.” Gibbs stood up and followed you. “You know (y/n) pretty stupid of you to tell your boss what you were gonna do” he said following you.

“Oh god Gibbs grow up” you reply walking towards your car. “Boss, boyfriend, what are you? You can’t play both roles at once you know”

You turned abruptly to face him.

“Yes I can” he replied. “You crossed the line”

“Oh, I crossed the line, baby? I crossed the line!?” You were now literally inches away from him. You could feel his body heat. “I wasn’t the one that started bringing out personal affairs into it. I wasn’t the one that decided it’d be a good idea to just, I don’t know, casually tell someone that “you’re always so belligerent (y/n) you don’t listen, the only time you’ve ever listened to me is in bed, and you barely do that””

Jethro couldn’t deny it, he was incredibly turned on by you. Your anger made your eyes sparkle, the way your jaw flexed as you glared at him.

“Im sorry I crossed the line (y/n) but you are not allowed to tell me how to do my job when I’m on the field because at work, I’m the boss.” He spoke. “You don’t listen. You don’t immediately do as I tell you, quite frankly, you have gotten belligerent.”

“Then fuck it out of me” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck the belligerency right out of me”

“Get in the truck.” His eyes darkened. “Now. And (l/n) do not make me ask you again” you walked to the truck, he pushed you against the door and caught you in a heated kiss. Unlocking the door behind you. You undid your coat, and he undid his throwing it into the truck bed as you opened the door.

You got inside and scooted back as he crawled between your legs, closing the door behind you. His mouth reconnected to yours roughly. His hands followed the natural curve of your clothing as you moaned into his mouth. His calloused hands met the waistband of your pants as yours found his belt. You teased his growth as he assaulted your neck. He bucked his hips as he groaned.

“Fuck” you heard the desire in his voice.He made easy work of undoing your pants with an easy few flicks of his wrist. Unzipping his pants, he easily slipped himself out as you let your pants down.

He slid into you, a deep guttural groan leaving him. You moaned into his mouth as he roughly fucked you. Not wasting anytime in relieving himself and chasing to relieve you. The tangled moans that es the two of you would’ve been a symphony to any outside listeners.

Your moans and whimpers raised higher in pitch as he thrusted sloppier and sloppier as his orgasm neared. Hard thrusts earned him a rough bite on his neck.

“Fuck (y/n)” he groaned into your neck as his sporadic thrusts were being to speed up. Your walls clenched around him, causing a grunt to roll off his tongue. You were a whole other story.

You were actively losing your mind. Your composure had slipped, moans and curses slurred together as he fucked. Your own hand has drawn down to your clit to rub the circles you needed to make your body stiffen. Your mouth laid open in pleasure as you orgasmed. Cursing his name as he came simultaneously with you.

“God, (y/n)” he pulled out of you, grabbed a wipe from the pack he kept in the glove compartment. He cleaned you as best as he could before caring for himself. You laid on the truck seat with a dazed smile on your face.

“What gorgeous?” He smirked. As he opened the door and stood up. Looking around as he fixed his pants and boxers, pulling them up.

“Best sex I think I’ve ever had” you reply. You stood close to Gibbs and rearranged yourself . Your two bodies warm. You tuck in his shirt and zip and button his pants. He watched as you did so. You kissed him as you redid his belt.

“I think can top it” he shrugged.

“Hm. Top me tonight after dinner”

“Are you telling me what to do (l/n)? While we’re at work?” He questioned.

“No sir” you respond, teasing him. You giggled as you hugged him. He kissed the top of your head. He let go and the two of you began walking back to the office. Giggling and walking around like a goofball. Dickdrunk and high off serotonin.

“Report to the house by 1900 hours” Gibbs ordered. You smirked as you stood in place.

“Yes sir” you saluted him.

“What marine?”

“Yes sir”

“What time are you to report to the house, marine?”

“1900 hours”

“At ease soldier” the two of you laughed as you locked hands. He kissed your temple. “You’re my good girl” he whispered in your ear as you got in the elevator. You smile.

[shadowsndaisies]

introducing gadget

a/n: a purely self-indulgent ncis x top gun crossover for those of you who might exist in this niche with me. pay no attention to how the timeline makes any sense, please and thank you.

main masterlist

cross over masterlist

synopsis: meet gadget, lieutenant commander in the united states navy, and skilled naval aviator. gadget's been around the block though, her grandfather, mike franks, was NIS after all.

the death of mike franks - (aka the idea that started this) p2p killer's on the loose, and you're stationed across the country when you get the call. [6.20.25]

db on the carrier - when there's something strange in your carrier... who ya gonna call? ghostbusters the gunny [COMING SOON]

[axicallian]

Human Database [NCIS x Male Reader]- Yankee White 1/2

M/n watched as Tony tried again to the reach their boss over the phone. While he packed his stuff to travel to the crime scene he heard his coworker explain the situation.

"Navy Commander carrying the football on Air Force just carked in the air," He explained into the telephone. A pause before he continued speaking, "Wichita, Kansas, the President's transferring to the back-up bird. M/n booked us on a 1500 United flight on Reagan and that it stops in Dallas, Texas before heading to Wichita." Another pause before he sighs while putting on his jacket, "He booked it not me. If we had our own jet.. Alright," Tony hung up the phone.

"'That's the best you could do?'" M/n guessed with a small smile, as Tony let out a chuckle.

"Word for word," He confirmed, throwing the keys to M/n.

"Nice! I get to drive!" He cheered, gathering his stuff, ready to bolt to the car.

~

'Attention, passengers. This is a gate change announcement..' sounded throughout the airport, mixing with the messy ambience.

"FBI, CIA, DEA, ATF, even NYPD have private jets," Tony complained, heaving several bags off the escalator.

"Look, 36 cents a mile. You wanna drive?" Gibbs stated simply.

"It's humiliating," He argued, setting his bags down in front of the TSA officer.

"It'd be less humiliating if you had less shit.." M/n grumbled under his breath.

"This isn't all mine. Most of it's for the crime scene," Tony retorted.

"Then why do I only have one bag," the (H/C)nette prodded, sticking his tongue out.

"We're LEOs," Gibbs spoke over his two childish coworkers to the security officer.

"I'm a Capricorn," The officer replied dumbly.

"Are you stupid? LEO is short for law enforcement officer, idiot," M/n said bluntly.

"You new at this Dennis?" Gibbs asked condescendingly while Tony displayed his ID.

"First week," the man confirmed, feeling little to no shame. He read the group's identifications, "'NCIS'? Never heard of it."

"That's embarrassing," M/n commented leaning toward Tony.

"NCIS anything like CSI?" The TSA officer asked genuinely.

"Only if you're dyslexic," Tony replied, struggling to lift his suitcase.

"Or stupid," M/n added while helping his coworker with his bag.

"Okay. You can go ahead and go around the metal detector, but your bags have got to go through the scanner." The officer gestured, ignoring the rude comments.

"Wait a minute, you're letting us take weapons aboard but you want to scan our bags?" Gibbs clarified.

"Well, you've got permits for the weapons but you don't for the bags," Dennis replied simply.

"We really need our own jet," Tony repeated with an 'I-told-you-so' look while he heaved the suitcases up to send through the scanner.

"I second that," M/n groaned, lifting the heaviest bag to the conveyor belt.

Ducky, the Medical Examiner called from the other side of the security checkpoint, "Dennis! Those bags are mine."

"Why didn't you tell me you were schlepping for the Doc?" The TSA officer asked, "He's got a bag permit," he stated obviously.

"Move it, men," Dr. Mallard commanded while Tony and M/n smiled to each other and followed quickly after the older man. "We don't want to miss our flight," Ducky commented, smirking.

~

The jet was sat on the wet pavement which reflected the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles that surrounded it. An accented voice could be heard from inside the plane, "Uh, I don't give a damn which one of you is boss. You ain't moving this body until the M.E. says you can."

"You talking about me, Elmo?" Ducky asked, entering the plane with Tony, M/n, and Gibbs on his heels.

"Ducky! How'd you like those steaks I air-expressed you?" The owner of the accented voice, Elmo greeted.

"Ah, delicious!" The Doctor replied, removing his jacket and tossing it to Gibbs. He got down onto the floor to start performing an examination while M/n and Tony worked around him, marking the crime scene and helping Ducky.

"Uh, Agent Fornell here is FBI. Agent Todd, Secret Service. Ducky, they've been fighting over this body like two hounds over a t-bone," Elmo introduced the other people who stood watching the dead body which looked like a young man. His skin was now jaundiced and foam stuck to the corner of his mouth.

"Well, it's our t-bone for the moment," Ducky commented humorously.

"All these LEOs are contaminating the potential crime scene," Gibbs informed.

"Oh yes, my assistant's right. Everyone who boarded in Wichita will have to evacuate the plane," The old M.E. confirmed.

"I'm not going anywhere," One of the people in the crowd argued, a balding man who had been introduced as Agent Fornell.

"I flew in on it," The pretty brunette, Agent Todd argued.

"Very well, you two can stay. But everyone else must deplane," Ducky asserted.

"Alright, you heard the M. E. , let's move it boys," Elmo motioned the audience out. "Ducky, what do you think?"

Dr. Mallard examined the deceased body's chest and skin for abrasions or wounds, "No outward sign of trauma," He noted.

"He was stricken after having lunch with the President," Agent Todd explained.

"Yeah, how is the President?" Tony asked, look up from the scene.

"He's fine. His physician cleared him to fly on to L.A." The Secret Service Agent reassured.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked hoping to get more details. Fornell, Gibbs, and Todd stared at each other awkwardly before the brunette started explaining.

"When the Commander returned from lunch, he had an equilibrium problem and his grip was too weak to hold his briefcase," She recalled with detail. The way she spoke caught M/n's attention, sophisticated and professional.

"Did he gradually become ill, or was it sudden?" Ducky interrogated as he stood to face her.

"Sudden. He started to convulse and collapsed. The President's physician believed that the Commander had a stroke," She replied.

"Kinda young for a brain fart," Tony noted, causing M/n to stop taking notes and hold back a giggle from the use of the word 'fart'.

"Looks like a natural death to me, Elmo. They can leave with the body as long as they sign releases," Ducky evaluated.

"Why the hell didn't you say that?" Agent Fornell asked Elmo abrasively.

"Couldn't. Like I said, it's the M.E.'s decision. Release forms are in my car, "The man replied.

"Let's go. We can work out jurisdiction for Washington on the flight to Dallas," Fornell said to Agent Todd. She nods but casts several odd glances at the group around the body before exiting the plane.

"Ah, Ducky... about those soft-shell crabs?" Elmo asked the M.E.

"Ah, you'll have them by the weekend," He replied.

"Ten-four, partner," Elmo agreed before leaving.

Ducky let out an exhale and everyone stared at each other. "Tony, go on. Show the pilot your credentials, get us the hell out of here," Gibbs commanded. Tony nodded and started heading in the wrong direction until M/n grabbed him by the shoulders. He physically turning him around and said, "Wrong way, cockpit's on the top deck."

"I knew that," Tony blatantly lied.

"Enjoy playing my boss?" Gibbs asked after watching Tony's idiocy.

"I did, rather," Ducky nodded.

"You don't actually think he died of natural causes, do you? Only 9% of stroke victims are under the age of 40 and they have a higher chance to survive," M/n regurgitated an article he read once.

"I don't think I have enough information to tell, my dear boy," Dr. Mallard replied. "He could have been born with an aneurysm. They're timebombs in the body. I remember this young promising basso-perfundo in London. He was only 27 when he keeled over, in the middle on an Notaro aria—"

"Who the hell are you people?" Agent Todd stormed back into the plane.

M/n's hand was steady on his gun as soon as he saw Todd's hand on her gun. He was, however, quite proud of her for being so observant.

"You're no M.E. assistant," She declared to Gibbs. "and there's no soft-shell crab within a thousand miles," She states to Ducky.

"Sorry," Ducky shrugged.

"NCIS," Gibbs answered, showing his badge for proof, "We flew down here from Washington to take over the investigation."

"First the FBI tries to muscle in, and now NCIS," She frustratedly mentioned.

"Yeah, well, I do believe this is a dead naval officer," M/n stated simply.

"Who died on Air Force One, after having lunch with the President it's my job to protect," Todd argued.

"Okay, we can share jurisdiction. You can be on my team," Gibbs compromised.

"Your team? Why should you head the investigation?" She continued to argue, not satisfied with the suggestion.

"You've never worked a crime scene, have you, Agent Todd? So why should you run the investigation?" M/n snidely asked.

"I am a Secret Service agent," She stated, avoiding the question.

Gibbs only smirked and turned away from Agent Todd.

"Well don't dismiss me like that! Okay, I earned my jock-strap," She demanded.

"Yeah, does it ever give you that empty feeling?" Gibbs asked turning back and facing her.

"What?" Agent Todd asked dumbly.

"Your jock-strap," He answered, staring condescendingly at her.

"No. Like some species of frogs, I grow what I need," She retorted with a smile while M/n was left slack-jawed at the interaction.

"Gibbs!" Tony called, coming down the stairs and seeing Agent Todd, "Pilot won't take off until the Secret Service chick gives us the.. thumbs up."

"I think that just made it my team," Agent Todd bragged.

"No. It means we'll just have to hijack Air Force One," Gibbs countered, "M/n, escort Agent Todd off this aircraft and close the hatch," he commanded as he turned around, heading for the cockpit. Tony and M/n shared a glance as Todd chased Gibbs up the stairs.

"You're not serious. Wait!" She quickly gave in, seeing as he had no intention of following her orders, "Okay, okay! Your team, but only because I don't want to delay us further by having to shoot you." Agent Todd offered the older man a hand as a sign of obedience and comradery. He gripped the brunette's hand with his own gloved one, casting a smile small toward her.

~

"Damnit, Agent Todd, let's get this show on the road!" Agent Fornell demanded, ready to board the plane. M/n and Tony heard his incessant yelling and quickly intercepted him.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. We, uh, overbooked the flight," Tony quipped while closing the hatch.

"Hope you'll fly with us again on NCIS Air!" M/n giggled, interpreting a flight attendant.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was barely audible through the thick metal of the plane.

As the plane pulled away from the ladder the FBI agents were left standing confused at the top. The two chaotic NCIS agent waved at them from inside, wearing cheshire grins.

~

Ducky, leaned down over the body, gently pushed a metal tool into the victim's abdomen, examining the result.

"Are you starting the autopsy?" Agent Todd asked in surprise as she leaned in one of the airplane seats.

"Goodness, no. I'm just taking his liver temperature to corroborate the time of death," He answered as the chaos duo, M/n and Tony walk into the room.

She stood up, checking her PDA, "The President's physician declared him dead at 20:32 Zulu."

"It never hurts to double check," The doctor says, reading the beeping thermometer.

"You're in the way of the crime scene sketching," M/n said bluntly from Agent Todd's right.

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Sketches? You've taken a dozen photos."

Tony picked up a magazine next to him with a woman in a bikini on it, "Tell me her measurements."

"You're pathetic," She simply answered.

"No, I'm serious," He retorted. M/n finished Tony's thought in a snarky voice, "Can you tell if she's 5'4" in a 35-C, or 5'7" in a 36-D?"

Tony responded, the two agents of chaos going back and forth, pissing off Agent Todd, "You can't, not from a photo. That's why we do sketches, take measurements." He physically nudged her aside sassily as the duo giggled to themselves like high school girls.

"I've got 19:50 Zulu, that's nearly an hour earlier," Ducky states, concern lacing his voice.

"Well, then you miscalculated," Agent Todd stated.

"Nuh-uh. The doc doesn't miscalculate," M/n argued, shaking his head.

Gibbs, jogging down the skinny plane steps and hearing the conversation he interrupted he asked, "What's the problem?"

"There's apparently a discrepancy between my time of death and the President's physician's," Ducky explained, rising to his feet.

"And she think Ducky's wrong," M/n accused, Todd looking back at him slightly offended.

"Log yours," Gibbs ordered, causing M/n and Tony to grin at Agent Todd who only rolled her eyes in response. "Enough sketches, M/n, Tony. Agent Todd's gonna give you both a floor plan," the older man walked off after giving the command.

Agent Todd rushed to follow him, "Oh, no, she won't," she argued.

"Although your photo analysis isn't brilliant, M/n, isn't 36-D a bit of wishful thinking?" Ducky asked, examining the magazine.

"Probably," M/n shrugged.

"Definitely wishful thinking. 36-Ds are like.." Tony put his hands in front of his chest as if measuring breasts, "..big."

~

"What can you tell me about Commander Trapp?" Gibbs asked while speed-walking down the plane.

"I can't give them Air Force One floor plans, they're top secret," Todd argued while trying to catch up.

"Come on, I saw this in a Harrison Ford movie."

"Well that's Hollywood speculation, you're asking for the real thing," the brunette frustratedly tried to reason while having to keep speed with Gibbs' long strides.

"Isn't the President's head down here someplace?" the man changed the subject as he snooped around the plane.

"No," she answered with frustration.

"Now this was in the movie!" he exclaimed, walking into a conference room and putting his hands on the leather chair at the head of the table, "Yeah! Harrison was sitting right here."

"I can't risk those plans getting out on the Internet," Agent Todd stated, redirecting the conversation to the original topic.

"NCIS does not leak," Gibbs promised, "These plans get out, you can shoot L/n."

"As much as I would love to shoot him, I think I'm obligated to shoot you," she disagreed.

"What about Commander Trapp?" he inquired once again.

"Only met him this morning. He just received his Yankee White clearance and was Major Kerry's backup. The major has the flu," Todd explained

"We'll have to get a Navy doc to verify that," Gibbs popped his head out into the corridor to see that he was back where they started.

"He's got it," she says sarcastically, waving her hands irritably, "But go ahead, and-and waste a doctor's time double-checking like you're Ducky."

Gibbs stops and motions to a cabinet with a keypad, "This is where the terrorists got their weapons in the movie."

"Oh, that is as ridiculous as the President's 'escape capsule'," she sighed as he pressed random buttons on the keypad.

"Anybody switch planes with the President?" he continued to interrogate the Secret Service Agent.

"The President was put on a separate plane. Everyone else boarded the backup excepts three stewards who were put in the press cabin," Todd answered as they approached said press cabin.

"What'd you keep them for?" he opened the curtains and waved at the stewards, "Make coffee?"

"I may not know the finer points of investigating like sticking needles in liver or measuring swimsuit models, but I do know enough to hold the stewards who prepared and served the President's lunch," Agent Todd explained, "You want to question––?"

"No, they're not going anywhere. We've got a crime scene to investigate," Gibbs interrupted, walking back toward the dead body, "Rule number one, never let suspects stay together."

"Well I didn't consider them suspects."

"Why'd you hold them?" he asks while extracting latex gloves from his jacket and handing them to Agent Todd, "Put these on."

"My fingerprints are all over this aircraft," she said, finding it unreasonable to wear gloves now.

"Rule number two, always wear gloves at a crime scene."

The duo stopped in front of the body and Ducky who explained his findings, "I believe I know why there's a discrepancy in the time of death. Now since the Commander had lunch with the President, I'm sure the President's physician rushed to evaluate his condition. He also called Trapp's time of death."

Agent Todd crouched down to assess with the doctor, "Yes, once he was sure the President wasn't in medical danger, he returned and.. he was gone nearly an hour," she recalled, realizing her mistake in accusing the Ducky of miscalculating.

"Yes. I'm sure the autopsy will show that Commander Trapp expired almost immediately,"

"I owe you an apology, Doctor," she declared with sincerity.

"Oh, please, it's Ducky to my associates. I'm just relieved we straightened it out. It's inconsistencies like this to lead to conspiracy theories," He reassured. "It reminds me of a case once in New Orleans. A jealous husband shot his wife off a Mardi Gras float, right out of the clock at the corner of Bourbon Street," Ducky recalled, beginning a story Gibbs knew they didn't have time to listen to.

"Ah, doc, give it a rest. She's got work to do," Gibbs cut the medical examiner off.

"I'll tell you the rest later!" the doctor promised.

"Rule number three, don't believe what you're told. Double-check," he ordered as she followed him to the president's office.

"Should I write these rules in my Palm Pilot, or crochet them on pillows?" Todd asked sarcastically.

When they entered the room they were greeted with the chaos duo, both squished on the president's chair with M/n was sat cross-legged in Tony's lap while the latter twirled the telephone cable around his finger.

"Oh no, I draw the line at them sitting in the President's chair," she declared angrily.

"He's not using it, he'll never know," M/n shrugged.

"Gibbs!" she demanded.

"If you're finished taking pictures, start bagging and tagging," Gibbs commanded.

"Just waiting for you, boss," Tony replied, the duo getting up and grabbing bags to collect the evidence.

"Bagging and tagging what?" Todd asked.

"Well, to start with," he waved his hand at the plated food sitting on the desk, "everything. President was sitting there?" he pointed to the chair M/n and Tony were previously sitting in.

"Pretty good bet, since it is his desk," she answered sassily.

Tony offered an evidence bag to Gibbs who took it and began explaining how to properly 'bag and tag', "Okay, to maintain the chain of custody, take the item – in this case, Commander Trapp's lunch – place it in the evidence bag," he placed the entire plate in the bag, sealed it, and wrote the necessary data, "Seal it, record all pertinent information, initial across the seal."

During the explanation Agent Todd looked pale and distracted, to which M/n took notice to. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, ready for her to spill her guts.. gross.

When Gibbs turned to her saying, "Okay, why don't you try it?" she looks at him nervously before covering her mouth and bolting our of the room with Gibbs hot on her tail, yelling "Oh, wait a minute! Hey, wait! Wait a minute! Whoa! Stop!" Tony jogged after and M/n meandered to keep a safe distance. He could handle blood and whatever but not vomit. He cringed as he watched her spew clear liquid from her mouth into the evidence bag Gibbs was shoving in her face.

"Can I rinse now that you've got your evidence?" she spat irritably

"I don't even blame her, I'd be mad if someone collected my vomit too," M/n commented to Tony.

"Log it. Go find Ducky," the older man ordered as he handed the bag of fluid to DiNozzo while M/n made dramatic, disgusted faces in the background.

"You think she's got whatever killed the commander?" Tony suggested to which Gibbs only shrugged.

~

"Low temperature. I think it's a stomach virus," Ducky diagnosed, holding the thermometer in front of his face.

"I know it is," Agent Todd, lying across a sofa with a hand on her forehead, replied, "Did you use that thermometer on cadavers?"

"Would you rather I use the liver probe?" the medical examiner joked.

"Why you so sure it was the flu?" Gibbs asked curiously.

Todd sighed before explaining, "It's the same symptoms Major Kerry had."

"Did you work together recently?" Ducky wondered.

"No."

"Well if you didn't work with him, then how—"

"They doinked, doc," M/n stated simply as he walked into the area with a cup of chamomile tea for the sick agent's stomach. 

"Did you think I was a virgin?" Agent Todd jested.

"I'd hoped not," Ducky replied, rising from his sat position.

The secret service agent sat up as M/n placed the lukewarm tea at the table near the couch arm. She half-heartedly rolled her eyes at his mischievous yet caring smile. She looks up at Gibbs, "You gonna lecture me about sleeping with people you work with?" she wondered.

The older man scoffed, "no, have you seen M/n and Tony? I ain't stopping them."

"They've slept together?" she inquired.

"Not yet," Gibbs replies with a smug grin.

A voice rang out from the plane intercoms, "Agent Todd, Agent Baer's on a secure line for you."

"Want me to take that call for you?" Gibbs offered.

"I'd have to be dead," she retorted as she heaved her heavy body off the comfortable couch and made her way to the cockpit. The older man's eyes stayed where the sick agent had left; he let a small smile slip onto his face then followed by a light chuckle.

~

Tony and M/n were back in the president's office, DiNozzo with his ass in the comfortable seat again and the other agent sat on the desk. The two faced one of the stewards that Agent Todd had kept on the plane.

"And how long you been on Air Force One?" Tony inquired, clipboard in hand.

"Five years, sir," the plane employee replied "two with president Clinton, three with president Bush."

He gave a slight look to M/n who gave a small nod, indicating he believed it to be truthful. Gibbs marched into the room and headed straight for the presidential toilet, not caring to give the interrogating duo a glance.

"Well, thank you very much, Chief Steward," Tony dismissed the steward.

"Yes, sir," he gives a small bow before excusing himself and leaving the room.

No longer having to look professional for the interrogation, M/n hopped off the wood desk and swung his legs over the chair arms and plopped into Tony's lap.

"What's you get?" Gibbs questioned from the bathroom.

"Food security is incredibly tight to avoid tampering with the president's food," M/n replied.

"Incognito purchases, randomly selected stores, nobody knows they're buying for Air Force One," Tony elaborated.

Ducky walked in quietly M/n giving a mischievous look before handing the equally mischievous older man the evidence camera.

"Steward usually prepare all the food but today the president had ribs and coleslaw..," Tony paused so he and M/n could pose while Ducky snapped a picture.

"..flown in from aa smokehouse in San Antonio," he continued as two duo and the doctor switched spots so the medical examiner could pose in the president's chair, "so they only reheated 'em and served 'em."

"Anybody else have ribs?" Gibbs inquired.

"Gibbs, if the ribs were poisoned, the president would've been affected," M/n stated.

"Maybe he's used to Papa Joe's Barbeque," he joked, toilet loudly flushing before he opens the door, "if you lot are through taking pictures of each other maybe we can move the body aft." The three looked disappointed before following their boss out the door.

~

Agent Todd walked down the stair irritably, having been just told off and yelled at by her boss. She stops in her tracks and turns to Gibbs who sat nearby, "Where's the body?"

"I don't know," He replied with exaggerated eyebrows and just as much surprise in his voice.

She gave him an unconvinced look before smiling and giggling at his dramatic performance. The older man let out a small chuckle.

"You move it to the off-ramp for a fast getaway?" Todd suggested with a smirk on her lips.

Gibbs looked around and drank his coffee with no reply but she could imply the answer. Agent Todd threw her jacket over her shoulders saying, "It won't work, Gibbs."

She sighed and slumped down into an airplane seat, "I've been ordered to turn the body over to the FBI at Andrews," she elaborated.

"You could stall them until we get off," Gibbs responded.

"No, I can't. I won't defy a direct order," Todd decided sternly but her voice softened, "I'm sorry, Gibbs."

He shakes his head, "Never say you're sorry." A gentle pause before he joked, "Ah, you don't have to crochet that one."

Kate Todd only smiles in response but it slowly fades. These people, though can be annoying, treated her far better than her current coworkers. Even the chaos duo showed care for her and now she felt as if she was betraying them.

The captain's voice on the intercom cuts though the silence, "Folks, please fasten your seatbelts, we're beginning our descent into Andrews at this time."

Both passengers buckled their seatbelts according to the captain's orders.

~

The plane landed on the runway where numerous black cars of the different agencies were scatter on the pavement. Gibbs bided farewell to Agent Todd while M/n gave her a big smile and a loud 'goodbye!' from his vehicle.

A black SUV sped down the highway with Agent Fornell and the designated driver inside. The driver glanced at Fornell before asking, "Why'd you let NCIS have the evidence they bagged on the plane?"

the FBI agent replied with a smirk, "Since we have the body we control the investigation. If a few ribs and coleslaw saves some face, what's it hurt? If the food was poisoned the President would-" he was interrupted by a cellphone ring. Fornell gave the driver a look but he said, "Not mine, sir."

Agent Fornell checked his own phone, "Not mine, either." He suspiciously turned to the backseat where the body from the plane was supposed to be and where the ringing was eminating from.

Tony, from inside the body bag, answered the call, "Hello?"

Gibbs spoke through the phone, "We're in the clear, you can get out of the body bag."

The driver abruptly slammed on his breaks in surprise forcing the cars behind them to stop aswell, honking angrily. At the dramatic reaction DiNozzo whispered, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm not sure I want to."

"Fine. You and M/n still have to search Commander Trapp's apartment tonight," Gibbs reminded.

Tony whined, "Oh, Gibbs, come on! It's 1:00am."

"L/n is trailing you to pick up the body bag when the FBI tosses it," the older man informed.

"That's funny, Gibbs, real funny. Especially since-" Tony's sentence was cut off by a rustle followed my a yelp.

Gibbs hung up and mused from the comfort of his own vehicle, "I guess they found him."

~

Gibbs sauntered into the medical examiner's room where the Commander's cold, dead body laid on the equally cold metal table. Gerald, the ME assistant, turned to the older man mid-exit with the captain's clothes in tow, "I found Abby, she's on the way in," he reported.

"Yeah, did you wake her up?" Gibbs inquired.

"No, I called her on her cell. Sounded like one phat party," he commented with a deep, smooth voice.

Gibbs and Ducky quirked their brows at each other curiously while Gerald walks into the elevator.

"Find anything Ducky?" Gibbs redirected the conversation.

"Nope, and I won't for hours," Dr. Mallard answered before lifting the stiff arm to examine it with a magnifying glass, "I've just begun examining the body for needle marks."

"You think somebody stuck him?"

"I don't know."

"Anything on the uniform?" Gibbs peered at the flesh alongside the doctor.

"Not that I could see. I've sent it up to Abby."

"What's this?" Gibbs observed a mark on the skin.

"A mole," Ducky replied bluntly, he sighed, "Gibbs, go home. Get some sleep. I would if I could, this is gonna take all night. What's left of it."

Gibbs wandered away, snatching a roll of blue paper towels that he lays at the head of one of the several metal examination tables. He laid himself on the table, blue roll under his head and let out a satisfied groan and deep sigh. He turned on his side, facing away from the medical examiner, "Ducky, why would Abby go to a 'fat' party?"

"Jethro," Ducky smiled and turned off the overhead lights, leaving only the lamp over the Commander's body, "get some sleep."

~

In Abby's forensic lab the gothic girl is running UV light over Commander Trapp's uniform to spot any unusual substances. The door let out a loud beep before hissing open.

"Abby!" M/n called, running up with pattering footsteps. The two embrace each other excitedly, Abby exclaiming in reply, "M/n!"

Tony walked in after the energetic agent hauling a box of sealing items labeled 'evidence.' "Find anything on his uniform?" he wondered.

"Not yet," she answered after untangling from M/n.

"Well, I have a theory of how he was poisoned," Tony set the box down on the counter and revealed the contents of many bags. "This guy had enough vitamins, herbs, and organic food to open his own health market. If he was poisoned, I think you'll find it laced into one of these."

"So what are you gonna do while I'm finding poison in a health snack?" Abby asked as she began unpacking the bags.

"Wait," M/n answered with a smile.

"There's a futon, by the cabinet over there," she offered.

"Bless you," Tony sighed with a tired smile.

"What are you, my priest?" Abby giggled.

"Curse you?" Tony corrected.

M/n dragged the futon out to the floor, a small blanket resting on top. He gently flopped down on the mattress and Tony walked over and joined him. The two snoozed gently in each other's embrace, tired from the long night.

~

The next day the agents, including Todd and Fornell were gathered at the NCIS agents' desks with a screen lit up in the middle. The image was a scan of the victim's brain with a small area highlighted in red. Dr Mallard pointed out the spot, noting, "My neural pathology exam indicates that our victim succumbed to a cerebral embolism. Here, in the parietal lobe. I also found a number of clots, most of them centred in the renal artery."

"Is that unusual?" Kate wondered

Oh, not at all," Ducky answered, "In most cases of arterial thrombosis, clots will develop over a period of minutes or hours, spread to the rest of the body."

"But what caused them to develop in a healthy young aviator?" Gibbs inquired.

"Abby?" the M.E. prompted the gothic girl's explanation.

"Well I did a fibrinogen test," she turned the screen to the results of said test, "The procoagulant numbers were high, but they weren't off the charts."

"Any drugs that might induce the clotting?" Agent Fornell wondered.

"Well yeah, but none of those popped up," Abby answered, "I only iso'ed the epinephrine that was injected when he got jolted and juiced on the plane."

"No vitamins? Herbals?" Tony asked.

"All store bought, none of those will kill you, genius," M/n quipped, leaning on the former's desk.

"Yeah, the guy probably whizzed green but it won't cottage cheese your blood," Abby agreed

"Did you test the food that he ingested on Air Force One?" Agent Todd inquired.

"Everything that was bagged and tagged. Ribs, coleslaw, barby sauce... it was all negative for toxins," The forensic scientist replied, "I mean, that stuff will kill ya, but it'll take, like, thirty years. Do you dudes in the Secret Service ever think about throwing yourselves in front of the President's diet?" she joked, making Kate crack a small smile and Gibbs let out a quiet laugh.

"So, you're both saying he wasn't murdered?" Fornell clarified.

"However freakish and tragic, it apparently was a natural death," Ducky confirmed.

"I want my people to check your result," The FBI agent demanded.

"Of course. You and Agent Todd will be receiving copies of all our tests," The M.E. affirmed.

"Does it for me," Fornell conceded before asking Tony, "How's your butt?"

"It's really nice actually, his pants undermine the volume," M/n replied with a sly grin, next to Tony who had an equal grin.

Fornell gave a disgusted face and turned away and left. Kate quirked a brow, surely it was a joke and even if it wasn't surely it wasn't that big of a deal. She slowly turned to leave but Gibbs began tapping on the top of his computer screen with a pack of gum. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

"Kate, when's the President returning?" Gibbs wondered as she plucked a stick of gum from the pack.

"Uh, tomorrow. Noon. I'm flying back tonight to rejoin the detail," she answered.

"Mind if I tag along?" The older man asked. Agent Todd thought about it before he added sweetly, "Please?"

"Wow, you got a please outta him," M/n commented from behind her.

"You can," the brunette replied, "Your Sig Sauer can't. We have a rule: no weapons on Air Force One unless they're Secret Service." She watched him put away his weapon and stuck the gum in her mouth. Gibbs swung his coat over his arm and pulled it on before following Kate, whispering to his agents on his way out, "keep looking."

"Wow, he's not gonna tell us 'please'," Abby sighed.

[WIP]

Taglist: @eternal-ems

[cas-kingdom]

NCIS gang with your OC, watching a horror movie for Abby's bday? <3

It was Abby’s idea, of course. No one else would have opted for a horror movie marathon the moment the sky got dark – in fact, Ducky had requested they change it to an ‘80s English comedy night – but it was Abby’s birthday, and so it was Abby’s choice. Horror movie marathon, it was.

Gibbs had offered to host the little party – Emmie said it was for the sole purpose that he could run down to his basement if he got too scared, to which he’d aimed a light head slap, and she’d ducked expertly out of the way.

So, four NCIS agents, two medical examiners, a forensic specialist, and a teenage girl sat, cramped but cosy, in Gibbs’s living room, surrounded by about twenty blankets and pillows, at least three bowls of popcorn (one of which Tony was keeping safely guarded in his arms), closed curtains plunging them into utter darkness, and a flashlight on the floor in suspiciously close grabbing distance from Gibbs, who had, as expected, protested very audibly against the turning off of all lights.

There weren’t enough seats for everyone, but Tony and McGee didn’t care about the bean bags they’d been assigned. Emmie was squished between a practically bouncing Abby, and Ziva, who, after about twenty minutes into the movie, fell promptly asleep against the side of the sofa. Ducky and Palmer were on the two-seater, while Gibbs sat rigidly in his armchair.

The movie was The Blair Witch Project. Abby was ecstatic, reciting lines the moment the movie started and tugging at Emmie’s arm when a ‘good bit’ was about to come up, which usually meant she needed to cover her eyes. Tony and McGee were fixed on the screen, the former giggling like he was watching a romcom while the latter seeming interested solely in the particulars of the film’s special effects. Ducky occasionally spouted the odd horror movie fact, and Palmer…well. He was just happy to be there.

And Ziva was asleep, so Ziva didn’t care what was going on.

Emmie rarely watched horrors. There was the odd time Abby managed to rope her into one on one of their routine sleepovers, but they tended to be more…placid. Ones she could cope better with, at least. Gibbs, meanwhile, rarely watched movies, let alone horrors, and every time Emmie glanced over, just to see if there was anyone else in the room who was actually as terrified as her, he looked about ready to bolt.

“Oooh, Em, this is a good bit!” Abby said for the tenth time, shaking Emmie’s arm.

Emmie promptly pulled the blanket up to her chin.

“Ha, McGee, that’s you after a night out,” Tony quipped with an immature giggle, pointing a finger at the screen.

“Hilarious, Tony.”

“I do believe that the director of an ‘80’s horror was once charged with murder because one particular scene was so well—"

Even Ducky stopped mid-sentence as the room filled with the eerie sound of kids’ voices coming from the TV.

“Oh…” Tony shuffled backwards on his beanbag. “Oh, God…”

Abby grinned in pure excitement, her eyes fixed on the screen.

McGee’s face contorted into something almost painful.

Palmer was looking anywhere but the screen.

Gibbs pressed himself further back into his chair, hand mere inches away from covering his eyes.

Ziva snored.

And Emmie…

The moment the kids’ voices got louder, she let loose an adamant “nope” and shook herself free of Abby to execute her escape. Clambering ungracefully over Ziva, who somehow stayed asleep, she jumped none-too-gently from her sofa to her dad’s. Gibbs, in need of support as much as his daughter, didn’t spout much more than an oof at the sudden weight before wrapping Emmie in his arms and conveniently hiding his face behind hers.

“Good lord,” Ducky said as the scene continued.

“Uh, I need the restroom.” And that was McGee gone.

“Wait for me!” Palmer quickly followed.

Abby rolled her eyes. “You’re all a bunch of babies.”

Ziva blearily cracked her eyes open. “Babies? How—lovely,” she slurred before promptly returning to sleep.

NCIS Masterpost

[acebirdofprey]

Gibbs, bursting into the room: Palmer! I need a favour! Jimmys: I'm not giving you a lap dance again. Ducky: *chokes* McGee: A LAP DANCE?! Tony: AGAIN?!?

[withlove-amber]

Practice Dance

gibbs x reader

“Oh hey (Y/N)!” The loud voice of a Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo rang through the air, and into (Y/N)’s ears. “Hey Tony, what’s up?” (Y/N) replied. “You got an invite to a wedding, and it says you can bring a plus-one.” “A wedding invitation? Who’s inviting me to a wedding? And how do you know I got an invite?” “I might have looked through the mail on your desk this morning.” Tony sheepishly responded. (Y/N) looked at the wedding invitation (after glaring at Tony), and saw that it was from her cousin. 

“Awww, they look so happy!” (Y/N) said as she read over the invitation. As much as she hated to admit it, Tony was right, she was allowed to bring a plus-one. She didn’t realize Gibbs had come up behind her, and was looking over her shoulder the whole time. She just about jumped when she turned her face an inch to the left, and he was right there behind her. “God, Gibbs! Thanks for the heart attack!” (Y/N) said, now clutching her chest, right above her heart. “Anytime, (Y/N).” 

Throughout the day, her gaze kept lingering back at the wedding invitation. At one point, Gibbs noticed her zoning out in the direction of the invitation. (Y/N) felt a crumpled piece of paper hit her shoulder. “Earth to (Y/N), are you there?” “Yes, Tony, I’m here. What do you need?” (Y/N) replied, slightly agitated at Tony’s interruption from her daydream. “Are you daydreaming about your Prince Charming over there?” She glared at him slightly, but ultimately said, “Nah, I’m just not even sure I’m going to the wedding.” “What?! Why not?” Tony impatiently asked. Gibbs was also slightly curious as to why she wouldn’t go. “Because, I don’t have anyone to go with, I don’t know how to slow dance, and I have nothing to wear to a semi-formal wedding.” (Y/N) responded. “Well (Y/N), I have to say, that sucks for you.” Tony said laughing towards the end of the sentence. 

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day, daydreaming about a familiar silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man. She couldn’t stop thinking about the two of them dancing around all of the other couples. There were just a few problems: she can’t slow dance, she hasn’t told Gibbs how she feels, and they’re not a couple. The only thing that brought her out of her daydream, was Tony saying goodnight. She didn’t even realize it was time to go home. Oops. The only two people left in the bullpen were (Y/N) and Gibbs. Right before she picked up her things to leave and say goodnight to Gibbs, she heard “Moonlight Serenade” by Glenn Miller Orchestra playing over the speakers in the office. 

She looked up from her desk, and saw Gibbs standing in front of her desk, holding out his hand for her to take. She stood up and took his hand, and he led her to the middle of the bullpen. Her eyes widened slightly when she felt Gibbs’ hand on her waist. “Put your hand on my shoulder and take my other hand in your left hand.” Gibbs instructed her. She felt small sparks when she felt his gentle touch on her waist, and his gentle touch while holding her hand. She often wondered how gentle his touch would be with his rough, veiny hands that were a sure sign of carpentry. The months of daydreaming about Gibbs, had nothing on the real thing.

He set the pace for them both, slowly extending one foot forward, and she slowly extending one foot back. The two swayed slowly and softly, and she could feel herself blushing at the very close contact. While the two danced to the soft music in the background, they observed each other’s features in the soft glow of the dim office lighting. His eyes appeared to be much more blue than they’d ever been, and if she looked hard enough, his silver strands of hair appeared to softly glow in the dim lighting. The front section of her hair appeared to be brighter than it’s ever looked before, and he noticed how plush and soft her lips look. ‘God,’ he thought, ‘I could kiss her right now.’ As the song played in the background, the two gradually closed the gap between their bodies, so they were now standing so close, there wasn’t even an inch of space between them.

“Jethro,” (Y/N) whispered, “Would you be my plus-one?” “I would love to, (Y/N).” Gibbs softly spoke. “You were right Dr. Mallard. They do have feelings for each other.” Said Director Vance, looking over the balcony from upstairs into the bullpen. “I was hoping to finally get them to act on it, but this works too.” Said Ducky, watching (Y/N) and Gibbs dance around the bullpen. 

[academicgangster]

[pxmlx]

I am finally able to watch NCIS again! After Kate’s death watching the show was almost impossible for me, I couldn’t move past it and the only thing I could do was rewatch the 2 first seasons; but finally!! I am nearing the end of season 3 and I’m so excited to finally catch up with the series 🥹

[television-overload]

Random NCIS/X-Files headcanons that only 2 people besides myself would possibly care about:

Ducky Mallard definitely knows Dana Scully from her time at Quantico. He lectured in at least one of her classes, and thought she was a bright student. He vaguely follows her career once she becomes an agent, and has been consulted via phone call on occasion for some of her strange cases. Sometimes he relays stories about one of the X-Files cases to his NCIS colleagues, and everyone assumes he's exaggerating some details. They see each other about once a year when the medical examiners from all federal agencies get together for a conference.

Abby Sciuto knows Fox Mulder from online chat rooms (which she got into through her ex-boyfriend, Richard "Ringo" Langly, who she met at a rock concert). She takes a special interest in any of Mulder's work dealing with the occult. Sometimes Mulder joins Abby for bowling with her church bowling team (which is coincidentally from Scully's church. He likes to gossip with the nuns about his lovely partner and gets all embarrassed when they take an eager interest in his love life.)

In college, Timothy McGee was a subscriber of the Lone Gunmen and sent in several articles to be published in their magazine. His expertise in hacking puts him on their radar as an up and coming hacker prodigy, and they exchange the occasional correspondence. McGee plays online video games with them once a week.

Tobias Fornell refers to Mulder and Scully as "those weirdos that worked in the basement" and claims that none of Gibbs' cases would ever come close to the crazy stuff he heard come out of that office. He does say Gibbs would have liked Scully. Redhead.

[academicgangster]

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. 3x19 || NCIS 1x12

bonus:

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Sounds of Justice - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

[ncis-yp]

Comfy clothes (Gibbs x reader) [FLUFF]

You laid in bed the second you got home from work. Still in your work clothes, your glasses still on. Utterly exhausted from the day. Jethro walked in to see you knocked out and glasses out of place, snoring lightly.

“Get up” Jethro says and you nearly bolted up, reaching for your gun that was clearly not in its holster.

“Fuck” you groan, taking your glasses off and tiredly rubbing your eyes. Jets blurred figure in front of you and your eyes readjusted.

“I’m surprised you remembered to take your gun out” he chuckled. “You were knocked out when I walked in.

“I don’t even remember taking it out” you giggle sleepily. He smiled at you as he began undressing you. “What’re you doing?” You smile.

“Putting you to bed” he replied. “Was it bad today?”

“Got shot at twice, chased a burglar down the street and tackled him, got stuck in an interrogation room for a few hours, and I did training first thing this morning” you reply.

“Nasty bruises” he ran his hand down you ribs.

“Yeah doc said I’ll be alright. Just give it a few weeks to heal. I’ll get wrapped up tomorrow, IF I have pain while I’m breathing”

“And?”

“I definitely do have pain while I’m breathing” you admit.

“Guess that means I gotta be gentle.” He smiles as he looks up at you from his knees. You cock your eyebrow as his pretty blue eyes blink up at you. Standing, he unclips your bra and passes you his USMC hoodie. Your favorite of his hoodies to date.

“Oh no no” you say putting on the hoodie. “I’ll still kick your ass.” You quickly clutched your pillow to your chest as you coughed. Groaning at the discomfort. Jethros face twisted in distaste at the picture of you.

“We’re getting you wrapped now. Get up” he gently helps you up and makes a phone call.

30 minutes later you were sitting on a cold steel table getting your thorax wrapped up tightly. You were wincing in pain.

“Ah not to fret, my dear” Ducky said softly. “Keep this tightly wrapped for a few days and it’ll mend the pain when coughing”

“Thank you Dr. Mallard” you smile softly.

“Ducky, to you. And according to your X-rays, you’re in no harm. Nothing but bruises, but nothing broken” he points to your body on the x ray monitor.

“Thanks Duck” Gibbs says picking you up off the table.

“My pleasure, Jethro, (y/n)” Ducky nodded towards you. You smiled and nodded back. “Though, Jethro, make sure she drinks plenty of water and no… physical activity, if you know what I mean. Heavy breathing will put too much strain on her”

“Heard that Jetty? no physical activity” you say cheekily. “Guess I get to miss work for a few days”

“Yeah, yeah” he kisses you. “Shut up”

“Night Duck” you say as Gibbs carries you out.

You arrived back at home. Your boyfriend made you a comfy spot in bed. Leaving the TV remote by your side, with a few cans of soda and a giant bottle of water. He pulled into a gentle but caring hug.

“Thank you Jet”

[shadowsndaisies]

the death of mike franks

a/n: this was the idea that sparked the crossover when i was doing an ncis rewatch

main masterlist

introducing gadget masterlist

synopsis: p2p killer's on the loose, and you're stationed across the country when you get the call

wc: 1.1k

It’s not a call you wanted to ever receive.

“It’s.. uh, I just. I figured you’d want to know,” Tony’s voice trails.

“Know what Tony?” you ask, brow furrowed, he wasn’t making any sense.

The bar is loud behind you, it’s almost nine now, but the sun’s only just set and the whole squad was inside, everyone covered in salt and sand from the day spent at the beach. It had been a good day, but somehow, you knew the good was about to end.

“I’m really sorry,” he says again and your breath catches.

You’d met Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo during your station at Norfolk. You’d been sent there while on medical reserve. You worked on the Navy Yard, and when you think back, it’s probably because of your mom. She’d been close with a retired Marine Gunny turned Supervisory Special Agent in Charge, all because of your grandpa. The Gunny had a team there, and somehow, you’d gotten roped into spending some time with them while you recuperated. Physically able enough to be in the field, but not yet able to withstand sustained Gs. You’d enjoyed the stint, made friends with the team. You’d left NCIS better than you’d arrived, in more ways than one.

You’d bonded with Tony over pop culture references, and a quiet reverence for the Gunny. A new level to the respect you’d always had since you’d met him as a toddler.

“Tell me,” you force out.

Please don’t say it’s Gunny.

“It’s Franks,” he finally admits, and your knees go weak. “He’s dead, kid.”

“Oh shit, oh, fuck,” you huff out, trying to reign everything in.

That’s worse.

“Did anyone call my mom?” you ask, as your legs give out.

There’s a rolling wave of grief.

You grip tight to the railing as you try not to topple.

“Gibbs is calling her now,” he says quietly.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been in your life as long as you can remember. He’d filled the dad role often after your own had passed. You’d never really known him as a Gunny, but you did as Pop’s probie. You can’t imagine the silence that must’ve fallen over the NCIS building. But your thoughts are focused on Mike Franks. Your grandfather. There’d always been something about him, all old school, with his own sense of justice, too patriotic for his own good, it turned out. You hadn’t understood it then, but you saw how he changed after 9/11, and that was when you realized there was still so much to do. That was the reason you enlisted, he was.

You finally sit, as the grief rolls over you. You were not new to grief, you’d lived with it as a cloud almost your whole life, but this felt different. It wasn’t like when you’d lost your dad. You’d been too young, you think. All you really knew back then was you missed him, you were sad he was gone, disappointed that he’d never come home again.

You were okay though. You had your mom, you had pop, and you had Gibbs.

Gibbs who took you to the father daughter dance after pop got hurt on a case, and couldn’t take you like he’d promised. Gibbs who taught you how to drive manual when your mom decided she was not built to be the one to contend with you and the road. Makes sense, given you elected to pursue a career involving flying jets.

You’re struck with the realization that underneath the grief is an overwhelming sense of relief. It’s not Gunny, it’s not Tim, it’s not any of them. You want to puke as soon as you think it. Guilt gnawing at your insides. You loved your grandfather, but you’d been anticipating his death for a while now. So sure that all the cigarettes would finally catch up to him.

“Gadget?” His voice is strained, thank god it wasn’t Tony, either.

“Yeah,” you manage to choke out, from where you’re now sitting, one hand still grasping tight to the railing.

“It was the P2P,” and then there was anger.

“Son of a bitch,” you huff, and now there’s tears in your eyes. “He was supposed to be in Mexico,” you add on, because you’d just talked to him. “He was supposed to be done with this!”

You’d spoken with your grandfather just a few days ago, making plans to come down to Mexico when you had a short leave in a few weeks. You’d already booked your ticket.

“He only got here this morning, Gibbs called,” Tony adds on.

it goes quiet then. As if Tony’s not sure how to continue. and you become stuck in a contemplative silence.

…

“He picked my call sign,” you eventually say softly.

“What?” Tony asks, and you can imagine the frown.

“Pop, he.. uh… I loved cars, and taking things apart to learn how they worked. He was the one who called me inspector gadget as a kid. One of my instructors heard him call me Gadget during training on family weekend, and.. and then it was my official callsign.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him. You’d never told anybody that your grandfather was the one who coined Gadget, everyone who needed to know, did.

“I didn’t know that,” Tony admits, and you can hear the sad chuckle in his voice.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” you admit, sniffing.

“I’m really sorry, (y/n),” is all he offers.

You sniff and force yourself back to your feet. “Yeah,” you say in the absence of anything else. “Tell Gunny to call me when he can,” you decide.

“Yeah, but-” you don’t listen to the rest, ending the call.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, but it must’ve been too long because eventually someone came looking for you.

“Gadget?” it’s Hangman who calls your name. “You drink too much or something?” he muses coming closer.

It’s not until he can see your face that he realizes you’re crying, and the smirk is gone in a second. He drops down to be eye level and you continue to look past him and at the ocean.

“Gadget? Gadget, talk to me, what happened?” his voice had gone soft, one hand gently landing on your shoulder

“My grandfather’s dead,” you say, and god it hurts.

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

gadgets tags: @oikawasblueearbud @rory-cakes

[wambsroy]

not the eyefucking 😭

[axicallian]

Book Masterlist

All books reposted on Wattpad, AO3, and Quotev under the same author.

Starstruck [Ninjago x Male Reader]- 11 chapters

Starstruck [Ninjago x Reader]- 6 chapters

Human Database [NCIS x Male Reader]- 1 chapter