This is a tag for 'Recovery' – the second episode of season 10 when the team discover that Dr Cranston had what Tony called 'tribal names' for each of them.
Gibbs was relaxing in his basement and feeling unusually content. The Gothic Wildflower, otherwise known as Abby, had just left with her newly discovered brother Kyle, and her happiness had eased a worry in Gibbs' heart. All in all, he mused, Abby's visit had rounded off a good day. Midge's killer had been brought to book although it was a shame that it was someone who Tony had been making sheep's eyes at.
He poured himself a glass of bourbon but then paused as he heard someone upstairs. Moments later he heard the light patter of feet coming down the steps.
"Gibbs," said the Spirited Warrior.
"Ziva," replied Gibbs.
Ziva didn't reply immediately. She looked for a while, in a puzzled fashion, at Gibbs' latest woodworking project,
"I am worried about Tony," she said, "he said today that 'his head is still stuck in the elevator'".
"Hmmm," said Gibbs noncommittally.
"And then there was the aromatic facilities manager who played him," continued Ziva.
"Uh, uh," nodded Gibbs.
"And he thinks the Director is displeased with him for being a 'chatterbox'. Huh!"
"What does he say?" asked Gibbs.
"I have not spoken to him about it," said Ziva.
Gibbs watched as she paced round the basement and waited for her to get to the point. He didn't have to wait long.
"I do not think it was appropriate for Dr Cranston to have those 'bullet point descriptions' of each of us. It was not professional."
"Aahh," said Gibbs, "I thought Gothic Wildflower was kinda appropriate for Abby."
"I suppose it had a kind of superficial appeal," said Ziva grudgingly.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that you didn't approve of 'Spirited Warrior'," observed Gibbs.
"Spirited Warrior," said Ziva contemptuously, "although I should not be surprised, I suppose, that she made such a ... a ... shallow judgement."
"I'd have thought you'd like it, Ziva," said Gibbs.
"And you would have been right a few years ago, Gibbs, There was a time when all I wanted was to be a warrior but now, now I want to be more than that. I thought I'd learned to be more than just a fighter."
Gibbs sighed, and went into battle, "It was just a bullet point, Ziva, not a full character analysis."
"I know. But to pick up on 'Warrior' is too, too ... glib."
"Ziva, you are aWarrior, it's part of who you are. Only part, but it is a big part. You fight for what you believe in, you stand up for people you care about. I don't think Dr Cranston was suggesting that you were obsessed with fighting."
"Possibly," said Ziva a bit more calmly.
"And you're forgetting about 'Spirited'," pointed out Gibbs, "Ziva, you're full of fire, full of life. It makes you what you are."
"So, you do not mind having a 'Spirited Warrior' on your team," asked Ziva hopefully.
"I can't imagine what it would be like not to have a 'Spirited Warrior' on the team," said Gibbs, "but you're more than that, much more."
"Thank you, Gibbs," said Ziva and she patted his arm briefly, "I expect you will have the 'Brilliant Chatterbox' down here soon so I had better leave you to prepare."
"Night, Ziva," said Gibbs. He picked up a sanding block, ready to resume his work. Ziva was wrong, however; his next visitor was the 'Pensive Academic."
"Hey, Boss," said McGee.
"Tim," returned Gibbs.
McGee mirrored Ziva in staring at Gibbs' latest project. He shuffled awkwardly and then said,
"I'm worried about Tony. He took Judy being Midge's murderer pretty hard."
"Hmm," said Gibbs.
"And then there was finding out Dr Cranston's tribal name for him, and Director Vance yelling at him."
"Uh, huh," said Gibbs. McGee remained silent so Gibbs decided to take a short cut, "what was her name for you?"
"Pensive academic," said McGee, "Pensive academic! What did she mean? Sure I think a lot and sure I've got some degrees but that doesn't make me a pensive academic, does it?"
"Well, it does goes a long way towards it," said Gibbs a little mischievously.
"But NCIS doesn't need a Pensive Academic," said Tim worriedly, "do you think she means that I shouldn't be a field agent?"
"No. No, I don't think that," said Gibbs.
"Cos I don't think a Pensive Academic would be a Level 10 Elf Lord or speak basic Klingon, do you?" said McGee hotly.
Gibbs struggled to keep a straight face, "No, I'm sure he wouldn't," he agreed.
"Or be able to pass NCIS firearm proficiency tests ... or fight Ziva hand to hand ... or ...," he trailed to a halt, "you don't think I should go back to Cyber Crimes, do you, Boss?"
Gibbs pulled himself together. "Tim, I told you before, 'you're a good agent'. You can't let people tell you otherwise. All your skills make you a vital part of the team. Even the Klingon stuff has come in handy. Dr Cranston had these word pictures just to make you stick in her mind. I think she picked on your most, um, unusual characteristics. She wasn't passing judgement on your fitness to be a field agent."
"Oh ..., well, I guess you wouldn't keep me on the team if I was just a Pensive Academic, would you?"
"No, I wouldn't," agreed Gibbs, "go home, Tim. Get some rest."
"OK, Boss. Guess Tony'll be here soon anyway. See you tomorrow."
"Night, McGee."
But although Gibbs waited another hour, he didn't get the anticipated visit from Tony. Finally, he gave in. He wasn't getting any work done and found he couldn't relax while waiting for the sound of Tony's footsteps coming down to the basement. He sighed, laid aside the sandpaper and untouched bourbon and ran upstairs. It wasn't long before he was knocking on the door of Tony's apartment.
"Hey, Boss," said Tony cheerily, "what are you doing here? We didn't get a case, did we? I'm sure my phone's on. I didn't think I'd missed a call."
"Relax, DiNozzo, we didn't get a case. Can I come in?"
"Ah, sure, knock yourself out. Do you want something to drink? Coffee, beer, bourbon?"
Gibbs would have liked a gallon of the hard stuff but thought he would need a clear head for the difficult conversation ahead so opted for coffee. Tony disappeared into his kitchen to do battle with his fiendishly complicated coffee maker. He hummed happily to himself as the coffee brewed. Gibbs was puzzled; this didn't seem to be an angsty Tony.
Tony emerged with two mugs. He handed one to Gibbs, "Better drink it fast, Boss, before it eats away the china."
Gibbs nodded appreciatively and took a sip of the potent brew. He wondered how to broach the subject but Tony lived up to his tribal name and spoke first.
"Gothic Wildflower called me just now. She sounded happier: d'you think she'll make it down to Autopsy now?"
Gibbs grunted in reply and Tony continued, "Not sure how I'd cope with finding out I had a brother or sister. Although with Senior, I guess it wouldn't be a total surprise," he shuddered at the thought, "Still," he went on a bit more cheerfully, "!'m pretty sure I'm not adopted. Senior would have sent me back for a refund by now."
Gibbs thought that was rather sad but it seemed to make Tony happy so he decided not to pursue that line of thought. Tony continued to think aloud,
"Dr Cranston nailed us, I think although Spirited Warrior looked a bit put out and I thought Pensive Academic was going to hit someone with his mortarboard. Might be better if Dr Kate's Sister keeps her distance for a while." He took a gulp of his watered down coffee. Gibbs seized his opportunity,
"And what about 'Brilliant Chatterbox?'" he asked.
"Well the Warrior and the Academic thought it was a hoot," said Tony, "and Vance wasn't a fan."
"What did you think, Tony?" asked Gibbs in one of his gentle voices.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Boss, I struggled with it at first."
"At first?" probed Gibbs.
"Yeah, until I had a heart to heart with our esteemed Director."
"With Vance?" said Gibbs incredulously.
"Yeah, it surprised me too ..." and Tony went on to describe what had happened earlier that evening.
Tony had been sitting disconsolately at his desk, finishing off his report on Midge's case. The others had long gone but he wanted to get everything finished, tidy up a bad day so he could box it up somewhere and forget about it. And, he reflected, he quite liked being quiet on his own. He had just printed off the report and was putting it in its folder when he realised that the Director was standing in front of him. Tony stood up,
"Good evening, Director, is there something I can do for you?"
The Director had shifted position a little. If he hadn't known better, Tony would have thought he was a little nervous. Tony waited. The Director coughed,
"Brilliant Chatterbox," he said.
"Yes," Tony said, "I'm sorry about that, Director."
"Agent Gibbs tells me that your talking is part of 'your process', said Vance.
"Um, yes, Sir. He calls it my yabba yabba."
"And what do you call it, Agent DiNozzo?"
"I sometimes like to think out loud. It sometimes helps me make connections," Tony said nervously.
"Ah, hah," said Vance.
"But I could change ... or, at least, I could try," offered Tony.
"What did you hear when you found out Dr Cranston's name for you?" asked Vance,
"Sir?" asked a puzzled Tony.
"What did you hear?" repeated the Director.
"Well, she called me a chatterbox," said Tony.
"That's what I heard too," said Vance. He shifted again. Tony looked to see if he had a toothpick he could offer him. "Dr Wolf has pointed out to me that I may not have been as ... as ... er, objective as I might have been recently."
"Hmmm, so you're not really a fan of the orange after all?" said Tony, "sorry: thinking out loud again there."
"So, I've been thinking. I owe you an apology, Agent DiNozzo."
"What?!" squeaked Tony, "I mean, pardon, Director?"
"I said that I owe you an apology. I have a lot of respect for Dr Cranston's judgement and I didn't listen properly to her 'tribal name' for you."
"Sir?" asked a genuinely mystified Tony.
"Brilliant Chatterbox, she called you. I made the mistake of only hearing the Chatterbox part. The more important word was Brilliant."
"You think I'm brilliant?" asked a stunned Tony.
"And so do lots of other people," said the Director firmly, "and you need to hear that."
"Er, thank you, Sir," said a still shaken Tony.
"Not that I'm encouraging the chattering, you understand," said Vance.
"No, Sir, of course not, Sir."
"But, if it goes with the Brilliant, I guess I can put up with it. Good night, Agent DiNozzo."
"So, I said goodnight," said Tony to Gibbs, "and he went. D'you think he's had a nervous breakdown or something?"
"No," said Gibbs.
"Or perhaps he's been cloned. Usually it's an evil clone but perhaps he's got an un-evil clone."
"Un-evil?" queried Gibbs.
"Well, I can't think of the right word. Perhaps there's a force for good hovering over the Navy Yard. I'll get Abby to do some DNA testing. Although DNA testing probably won't work for a clone ..."
"DiNozzo!"
"Sorry, Boss, shutting up."
"No, that's OK. Like I've said before, sometimes the yabba yabba is useful." He saw Tony open his mouth to say something and made haste to continue, "sometimes, Tony, sometimes."
"That's all right," said a happy Tony, "my new best friend gave me permission to chatter. And he's the Director of NCIS."
Gibbs groaned. What had Vance done? What monster had he unleashed?