Okay, to spare you I need to tell you something. I put this up this afternoon and already have five messages and one review. Everybody seems to think this little thing needs a proper ending. I honestly don't know what it would be. Thanks for clicking to get here, but if you choose not to read this because it apparently is lacking an ending, it's okay. I wish the people who send me messages would review too. Even flames are sometimes good.
Innocent Comments? Maybe, maybe not.
Summary: Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs gets called into a meeting with an Employee Assistance Program counselor after someone becomes concerned about him. IF this story has a message, it could be this: be careful what you say and who you say it to. This might not be a good read for Tony fans.
Rating: K+
Category: General
Contains spoilers for the season 7 episode "Power Down" which aired in the US on Nov 17, 2009. This story takes place in December, before Christmas.
Warnings: Mention of drugs and alcohol and I used a couple of bad words.
Disclaimer: Everything NCIS belongs to someone else. I'm just borrowing the characters for a minute.
All mistakes are mine.
The call for a meeting had come out of the blue and the only thing he could think of was that one of his team had a problem he should know about and for whatever reason they had not come to him. Still wondering and a little apprehensive, Gibbs closed the door behind him.
"Thanks for coming in, Agent Gibbs. Please sit down. This won't take long."
Gibbs nodded and sat down in the chair closest to the door, but still next to a second one in front of the desk. He was about to ask what they wanted to see him about when then man spoke again.
"As you know, the Employee Assistance Program is here for all employees, even you."
Gibbs kept his surprise hidden, but inside he was reeling. The man, Henry Stander, thought he had a problem, not one of his team.
"It has come to our attention that you... might be... drinking too much, and we'd like to offer you the opportunity to attend counseling and support meetings before it starts to affect your work and put your teammates in danger."
Gibbs schooled his anger. No need to get on the wrong side of that. If he reacted badly they might take it as a confirmation that he was abusing alcohol... or drugs. He enjoyed beer and bourbon and other drinks, and had overindulged on more than one occasion over the years, but he had never driven or come to work while under the influence. It had certainly never come close to endangering anyone except himself and according to Ducky, even cirrhosis wasn't much of a possibility. Maybe if he had kept on like he did after Shannon and Kelly died, but he didn't. He killed Pedro, got himself together and joined NIS. Three ex-wives later he enjoyed his alcohol vice, but never let it control him.
"I don't know where you got your information, but I don't have a drinking problem."
"Nobody is saying you're an alcoholic, Agent Gibbs." Stander smiled thinly. "Your attendance record and job performance almost rules it out."
Gibbs almost growled, but managed a civil, "Almost?"
"You are described as a loner away from work. You isolate yourself whenever you can. While at work you are short-tempered and argumentative. You leave the third floor often and remove yourself from the building several times a day. These are signs... of a problem."
Almost seething, Gibbs asked, "Is that all?"
With another thin smile, the guy proposed his plan."Counseling would start immediately, one on one at first and then weekly group sessions. It will give the counselors a chance to evaluate you for other problems such as emotional and mental health problems, marital and family problems and financial problems."
He picked up and then handed pamphlets to Gibbs, expecting him to accept the treatment plan without argument.
"As you know, these problems are almost always worse during the holidays."
When Gibbs didn't take them, they were set on the desk top in front of him.
"For long-term counseling we would give you a referral and you might be subject to random testing. That of course would be in addition to the random drug testing already required of NCIS employees."
For that moment Gibbs was speechless.
Stander pulled forms from his desk. "Now, let's go over your rights regarding privacy."
No way was Gibbs going to agree to this. Plus something else was bugging him and he pulled out his phone. Before the EAP creep could object, Gibbs used one-touch dialing and it was only a second before the call was answered."This is Gibbs. I need to see Director Vance immediately." Then he got out of the chair and headed for the door.
"Agent Gibbs?"
No response, just a glare, but he did stop short of turning the door knob.
"The Director doesn't know. He might know about your drinking, but he doesn't know I asked you here today."
Gibbs studied the man for a few seconds and saw honesty. Gibbs knew the procedure was for the employee to seek help through EAP or for the boss to first meet with the employee and address concerns. Those things hadn't happened so, someone else had started the ball rolling.
Standing to face him, Stander continued. "Your problem... your possible problem has been tossed around NCIS for several weeks, but it really only came to our attention during the recent blackout."
Tim and Ziva were in the stalled elevator. Tony was outside using an orange traffic cone like a bull horn. He finally told them the power should be back on soon.
Ziva: "It could not happen soon enough. I'm sure Gibbs is feeling right at home."
DiNozzo: "Well you don't need electricity to use hand tools or drink a bottle of bourbon, he he he."
McGee: "He's right behind you, isn't he?"
DiNozzo: "Yes he is. Boss, you know there's nothing wrong with the occasional cocktail."
The blackout. Yeah, that was about a week before Thanksgiving. A cascade failure had knocked out power to half the district and a heroic Navy Commander had died.
The EAP guy stepped out from behind the desk and came to stand about two feet in front of Gibbs who was still at the door. "An additional conversation about you was overheard recently... very recently... in public... and a couple of us decided to try to get you into counseling before it got worse. I apologize, Agent Gibbs. We thought we could help."
Gibbs was more than angry, but he was also curious. He was usually in the lead when it came to scuttlebutt so why hadn't he heard anything before today about people talking about him?
"What recent conversation?"
The man looked extremely uncomfortable. "I shouldn't say."
Should he push him? Did it matter? H**L yes it mattered.
With a look that could kill, Gibbs told him, "Don't ever go against EAP policy ever again. It is not your job to confront employees unless you get official paperwork from their supervisor or the employee comes to you directly."
"Yes, Agent Gibbs."
"And about my privacy rights," he started, but got interrupted.
"All notes will be in the shredder immediately and my friend and I will never discuss you again."
Gibbs was as satisfied as he could be at the moment so he went out the door without another word. He needed to talk to Leon. Maybe not about EAP or the meeting, but about something since he'd already called and said he'd be there. What he was going to do about people talking about him having a drinking problem was another matter.
Two days Earlier.
An irritated Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo collapsed into his chair, pushing it back several inches from the desk. It had been a good morning until he answered that damn phone. His action and the scowl on his face alerted his teammates, Special Agents Timothy McGee and Ziva David.
"What is wrong, Tony?"
DiNozzo turned his head to look at Ziva, trying to decide if she cared or just wanted to get under his skin.
"Tony?"
McGee sounded more curious than concerned, but DiNozzo accepted it because he would be the same way.
"I hate calls like that on a bad day."
"I hate calls on any day. Gear Up," Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs announced and was at his desk retrieving his weapon before the others fully registered what he'd said.
Tim spoke first and was on his feet. "What is it, boss?"
"Dead sailor in an alley." Gibbs was halfway to the elevator with Tim and Ziva trailing several yards behind, but Tony wasn't following them and hadn't said anything.
Just before stabbing the elevator button, an impatient Gibbs barked, "C'mon, Dinozzo."
"I can't, boss. Not yet," Tony announced.
Returning to the edge of the bullpen, Gibbs glared at the senior field agent, but Tony just hung his head.
"Random piss test. Just got the call."
The three field agents thought their boss would growl and order Tony to get to the elevator while he snatched up his phone to make the drug test go away, but Gibbs didn't do that.
"Do it, then get another car. McGee will send you the address."
DiNozzo waited with five other male employees outside the restroom.
Jim from the armory quipped, "Sure glad I wasn't at my brother's apartment recently. I'd probably test positive for weed just be inhaling the stale air."
"I know what you mean," volunteered another man. "My last apartment complex was drug city. I finally got legal to help me get out of my lease."
The restroom door opened.
"Griffith is next," the monitor told them and Jim from ballistics went in to give a urine sample.
"Good thing this is for drugs and not alcohol," the MTAC tech said. "With the holidays I've had wine or something else practically every night. I'll actually be glad when New Years Day gets here."
"Wish they'd hurry up. The wife and I had it out last night and I ended up plastered."
The others looked at him more closely and did see his red eyes and furrowed brow. He probably was nursing a headache and had an upset stomach too.
A tall thin agent from the Far East desk asked Tony, "Gibbs drinks a lot. He ever do anything else?"
"No, no," DiNozzo told him emphatically. "He likes beer and he loves his bourbon, really loves his bourbon, but even when he's been shot he balks at taking pain killers." He thought for a second and quickly added, "He doesn't drink as much as some guys."
"Oh c'mon, Tony, we've all heard your jokes."
"Yeah, about him being passed out in his basement. I heard he and Mike Franks would drink everybody under the table.'
"That's true, Pacci and Callen too. And more recent, Marshall and Pohl."
Tony didn't mind joking about Gibbs. He did it all the time, just like he teased McGee. He especially didn't mind doing it then because Gibbs was out in the field and wouldn't be coming up behind him. "Gibbs... lots of choices for the two Bs in that name. Booze, bourbon, beer, bastard, basement, boat, blind, bland...bad haircut."
When Tony paused to think of another B word, another man took advantage and jumped in. The others did too.
"I've heard even Doctor Mallard has cautioned Gibbs about his drinking and treated him for hangovers."
"Plus he's been married a bunch of times and we all know about wives and drinking."
Tony wished Jim would hurry up. The piss monitor needed to turn on a faucet or something.
"You've never been married, have you, DiNozzo?"
"No, not yet," the senior field agent replied. He wanted away from talk of committed relationships so he went back to Gibbs. "And yes, the boss likes his booze, especially his bourbon, and beer too, and I joke about it, but not anymore than I joke about his eyesight or his gray hair or his bad knee or his age or his marriages or how he hates modern technology..."
The End
Thanks for reading.
**innocent - not corrupted by evil, wrongdoing or malice; sinless: innocent child, innocent comment
About an ending. Maybe some readers think that Gibbs needs to find out that DiNozzo talked about him like that and then confront him? But why? Gibbs knows how Tony is and he knows he can't change him. Tony has to change himself. tbgh