"Ahem."

Gibbs and his team looked up. It was never a good sign when Director Vance coughed in that particular way.

Gibbs sighed, "What now, Leon?"

The Director scratched his neck absentmindedly, "SecNav is sending …"

"Director, we don't need another shrink trying to get inside our heads," said Gibbs.

The MCRT had recently spent five weeks tracking down a group of people who had been stealing bodies from morgues and using them to terrify people into paying ransoms for the release of what they thought were loved ones they had lost touch with. They had done terrible things to the cadavers which had made people think their missing relatives were being tortured. The successful conclusion of the case had only happened after Agents McGee and Gibbs had been captured and held in a makeshift morgue where body parts were being stored. Their kidnappers had been getting ready to kill the two NCIS agents when they had been rescued at the last minute.

SecNav had been concerned about the effect of all this on her premier team and so had insisted that the MCRT receive psychological counselling: this had gone as well as such counselling usually went and a third psychiatrist had been shown the door two days before.

"Don't worry," said the Director, "The Navy's run out of psychiatrists," he paused for thought and then, because he always strove for accuracy, "Or at least of ones prepared to come and talk to you."

Gibbs nodded with satisfaction.

"No, this is a dermatologist," said Vance. He scratched his neck once more and looked at the team. He wasn't surprised to see a look of relief on their faces as they all scratched various parts of their anatomies.

"The Navy has dermatologists?" asked Agent Ellie Bishop.

"Sure," said Agent McGee, "Sailors get rashes too." He scratched his face.

"Quit scratching, McGee," ordered Gibbs although his fingers twitched as if they wanted to do some more scratching of their own.

"I can order some mittens," came a voice from the direction of the elevator. It was a cheerful, carefree voice. The MCRT and the Director looked towards its owner; cheerfulness and lightedheartedness had been in short supply in the squad room for some time. The accurate Leon Vance would have conceded that the MCRT was never renowned for its joie-de-vivre.

"What?" demanded Gibbs.

"Mittens. My grandmother used to tie them on our hands if we got a rash. Stops you scratching."

"My Mom used to do the same," chipped in Ellie. Gibbs' eyes swivelled towards her and she lapsed into silence. She rubbed her hand against her leg.

"And you are?" demanded Gibbs of the newcomer.

"Lieutenant Anthony DiNozzo. You can call me Tony." He stretched his hand out towards Gibbs but then withdrew it, "No, better not shake hands until I've identified what the problem is. It's embarrassing when the dermatologist gets infected by the patient. Doesn't exactly build trust." He chuckled.

"Lieutenant …" began Gibbs.

"Tony … please."

"Lieutenant," continued Gibbs, "We don't need your services."

McGee and Bishop began half-heartedly to object but guessed there was no point.

The lieutenant seemed to hear them and directed a beaming smile at them.

"I'm guessing you're Agent Gibbs?" he said. He received a curt nod in acknowledgement. "Don't worry, Agent Gibbs, this won't take long. I'll be out of your hair as quick as I can." His eyes drifted to Gibbs' marine haircut and the thought was obvious – it really wouldn't take long to get out of that hair. "Now, Agent Gibbs, I know you're all very busy but I'm under orders from the Secretary of the Navy …" he giggled, "And I never thought I'd say those words. My Mom will be proud when I tell her about this."

"Your Mom?" asked Gibbs in an icy tone.

"Well, sure. I write home every week. Usually on a Sunday. Seems to be a quiet, reflective sort of day. What day do you write home, Agent Gibbs?" The lieutenant looked at Gibbs appraisingly, "Although I guess … I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, perhaps your mother is no longer with us? I don't know how I'll manage when I don't have my Mom to call on." His eyes clouded over at the thought.

The drum of Gibbs' fingers on his desk seemed to recall the lieutenant from his reverie. "But there's no need to borrow trouble. That's what my grandmother used to say. Not the one who tied mittens on our hands but my paternal grandmother. She was full of homespun wisdom … you know the sort of thing."

"Keep me apprised, Lieutenant," said Director Vance before beating a strategic retreat.

"Yes, of course, Sir," said DiNozzo. He leaned forward conspiratorially, "Was that Director Vance?"

He got another brusque nod from Gibbs.

"Excellent," said Tony. He seemed to pick up on a cooling of the atmosphere, "Right. I guess we should get to work. You're busy and so am I."

"You are?" said McGee.

Tony turned to look at him, "Yes. It's surprising how busy dermatologists are. You know, when I was a med student trying to decide on my speciality I landed on dermatology because I thought I'd never get called out in the middle of the night. What sort of emergencies could there possibly be? And here I am, called out to deal with a problem with the Major Case Response Team. I never expected that."

"You're not the only one," said Gibbs disapprovingly.

The sarcasm seemed to sail over the lieutenant's head, "That's very insightful of you, Agent Gibbs. I can tell this is going to be a good assignment. I'll have lots to write in my letter home. And you know, to be truthful, there isn't always a lot to put in those letters. People don't always want to know the details of rashes and skin eruptions."

"Really," drawled Gibbs.

"Really," said Tony. "Even my own mother. Still, one man's spot is another man's …"

"Another man's what?" asked Ellie.

"I don't know," confessed DiNozzo, "Sometimes I find myself starting a sentence without knowing where it's going to end." He smiled vacantly.

"Hey!" barked Gibbs.

"Excuse me?" asked Tony.

He got a stare in response.

"Of course, silly me," he giggled, "Sec Nav told me that you all seem to be suffering from itchy rashes."

"Yes," said Gibbs, apparently mollified by a brief response.

"Well," began Tony.

"And it's not psychosomatic," said Gibbs warningly.

"What?" asked Tony.

"It's not in our heads," said McGee helpfully.

"Oh," said Tony.

"No, it's on our skin," said the usually amiable Ellie crossly.

"I see. And when did it start?"

"Yesterday," they all said.

"May I have a look?" asked Tony.

Ellie and McGee promptly got up and bared their arms to the doctor.

"Eew," said Tony, "That looks nasty. Does it …"

"It itches," said Ellie plaintively.

"And it burns," added Tim.

"And you, Agent Gibbs. What does yours look like?"

Gibbs sighed and showed his arm to Tony who shuddered. Ellie, Tim and Gibbs raised their eyebrows; somehow the new doctor didn't inspire confidence.

Tony rummaged in his bag and produced a magnifying glass, "Old fashioned tools can be the best," he said, "And this is from my great uncle. He wasn't a dermatologist. He was a watchmaker and he needed to be able …"

"Hey!" said Gibbs, "We don't need a running commentary."

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs," said Tony placidly, "It's always good to get input from the patient. I'm working on developing my bedside manner, you know. Although of course, dermatologists don't often have to go a patient's bedside. It's just a manner of speaking. You know …"

Gibbs coughed.

"But I can see that in this case you prefer a more direct approach." Tony peered at Ellie's arm, then moved to Tim and then, with an apologetic look, returned to Gibbs. He then went back to his bag and drew out some swabs and plastic cases. "I'll take some swabs," he said and proceeded to do so. He opened his mouth to speak at one point but seemed to think better of it. Ellie and Tim applauded (inwardly) his common-sense.

Finally, Tony stood up. "I understand that you have all had a stressful few weeks," he said.

"I told you. It's not psychosomatic," said Gibbs.

"Not in your heads. Yes, I know, I remember you saying," said Tony.

"How do you know?" asked Tim.

"What? That it's not in your head? Well, you told me," said Tony.

"No," said Ellie, "That we've had a difficult time?"

"Oh," said Tony, "Lieutenant McLaren mentioned it. And Commander Green …"

"Commander Green was nice," said Ellie wistfully.

"And Lieutenant McLaren, and the other one," said Tim sadly as they both looked back to the psychiatrists who had beaten retreats.

"I told them to use baking soda and vinegar," said Gibbs.

"What?" asked Tony.

"Baking soda and vinegar. Make it into a paste and slap it on. The rash."

"I see. Well, that's interesting," said Tony politely. "And have you used it?"

"I got willpower," said Gibbs.

"That's admirable, Agent Gibbs. And it's probably made you into the leader you are today," Tony gazed benignly at Gibbs who looked at him suspiciously.

"So what do we have?" asked Ellie interrupting what felt like a standoff.

"I'm not sure," said Tony.

Gibbs sighed.

"It's either Dyshidrotic Seborrheic Erysipelas or Erythodermic Pemphigoid Hemangioma with Necrotizing Fasciitis," said Tony, "It's fascinating."

"Uh," said McGee, "That doesn't sound good."

"Oh, it isn't," said Tony. "And it's highly contagious. You'll all have to be moved to a clean environment. This room will have to be deep cleaned and we'll send special teams to your homes for disinfecting."

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"I'm afraid so, Agent Gibbs," said Tony. "I'll have to debrief you all very carefully about everywhere you've been recently so we can isolate where you picked up this condition. It could be very serious."

"This is crazy," said Gibbs, "It's an itch!"

"A bad itch," said Tim.

"A really bad itch," said Ellie.

"We've got work to do," said Gibbs, "We can't go off to this clean place for debriefing."

"I'm afraid I'll have to insist, Agent Gibbs," said Tony, "It would be irresponsible to ignore this. I wouldn't want to think of the consequences if we don't cure this."

"Uh … doctor?" said McGee, "What might they be?"

Tony shuddered, "If it's what I think it is … well, the consequences are worse for men than women."

"They are?" said Ellie a little more cheerfully.

"Yes," said Tony, "In extreme cases it's led to certain … parts of the body … er …"

"Er what?" asked Tim.

"Shrivelling … and then …"

"And then?" prompted Tim again.

"Falling off," said Tony. And he stared at the region just below Tim's belt. Tim got the picture and winced.

Strangely, Gibbs did not voice any more objections about going into isolation.

NCISNCIS

As they arrived at the clean house, Tim stumbled and nearly dropped the cup of coffee he was carrying for Gibbs. Gibbs' hand shot out in readiness to deliver an admonitory head slap but, to his shock, Tony's hand reached out and stopped him, "Agent Gibbs," he said, "It would be most unwise for you to touch Agent McGee's hair. Who knows how many germs could be transmitted in that way?" He smiled sweetly and led them all into the house.

"There are four bedrooms, each with bathrooms," he announced. "There's a sun room at the back of the house looking out onto fields. There's also an indoor swimming pool …"

"We won't be able to use that though," said Ellie.

"Why not?" asked Tony.

"Wouldn't it spread germs?" she asked.

"Ah, ordinarily you'd be right," said Tony, "But in this case the pool has been treated with disinfectant. It'll be perfectly safe. In fact," he said, cheering up, "It would probably be beneficial." He beamed in a way they had become accustomed to. "The kitchen is through there; the cupboards are well stocked but we can call for takeout if we need to. There's a TV in each bedroom and a large screen TV in the lounge along with DVDs and games. We want you to feel at home."

"Bet there's not a basement," muttered Tim.

"What was that?" asked Tony.

"Uh, Agent Gibbs is building a boat in his basement," said Ellie.

"Is he?" said Tony. "Perhaps there will be something to put in my letter home after all."

Gibbs growled.

"Now," said Tony, "Why don't you go and make yourselves comfortable? Then, Agent Bishop I will debrief you. Then Agent McGee and then I'll come find you, Agent Gibbs."

Some hours later, Tony sought out Gibbs in the sun room where he was sitting gazing out across the fields.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked.

"Hmph," said Gibbs.

"It is supposed to be soothing, you know – engaging with the beauties of Mother Nature."

"What you want?" asked Gibbs.

"I have spoken to both Ellie and Tim about what has happened to your team recently. You know, trying to isolate where you may have picked up the infection," said Tony.

"Infection?"

"I fear so. The strictest hygiene is needed around dead bodies and I fear you may not have been able to stick to the required regimen at all times."

"Bishop wasn't the one kidnapped," objected Gibbs, "She can't have picked anything up from the body parts."

"No," said Tony, "But Erythodermic Pemphigoid Hemangioma with Necrotizing Fasciitis can be highly infectious. You or Tim might have passed it on to her."

"Huh," said Gibbs.

"So, I've heard their accounts. Now, I'd like to hear it from you."

"I'm not telling you how I felt about it all," said Gibbs.

"Of course not."

"You're not going to get inside my head and walk around."

"I'm a dermatologist, Agent Gibbs. I wouldn't know what to do inside your head and somehow I don't think I'd be welcome."

"OK," said Gibbs with something like a wry grin, "McGee and I were held in their morgue for about six hours."

"Was it cold?"

"It was a morgue. Of course it was cold."

"I see. And how big was the space?"

"Just about room for me and McGee to sit on the floor. We couldn't lie down. And there were body parts on the floor and hanging from the walls."

"So it was cramped?"

"I just said so."

"Of course. Do you like cramped spaces?"

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, some people don't mind them, it makes them feel safe and secure," said Tony, "Going back to the womb."

"Don't know many wombs with bits of dead body in them," said Gibbs.

"So you weren't comfortable with the situation?"

"Comfortable? Of course, I wasn't comfortable. I'd been locked up in a morgue with bits of dead people and threatened that I'd end up in bits myself! Of course I wasn't comfortable."

"I see. And did you begin to perspire?"

"What?"

"Well, you have said it was cold in your place of confinement. And that would seem to discount the idea that your rash is a heat rash."

"Heat rash?"

"It's important to rule all possibilities out," said Tony primly. "So were you perspiring for some other reason?"

"Why's the perspiration important?"

"If it was there, it could be a means of transmitting spores, or germs or virus …" said Tony.

"I guess I sweated a bit," said Gibbs.

"But not from heat?" said Tony. Gibbs growled and Tony made a note. "Then do you think you perspired out of fear or alarm?"

"Why does that matter?" asked Gibbs.

"If you didn't perspire from fear or alarm then it might be that you had already picked up the infection. That could be important. Tell me, Agent Gibbs, have you ever been in a similar situation?"

"What, stuck in a room with bodies?"

"Well, not exactly. But perhaps being stuck in a small room with little prospect of survival. We could perhaps correlate your physical reaction to both situations and see if there is a connection." Tony sensed Gibbs' hesitation, "It could help us find a remedy for Tim and Ellie."

"There was a time," said Gibbs reluctantly, "When I was isolated behind enemy lines. I'd taken shelter in a dugout but it collapsed in on me. Me and another Marine were able to get into the back before it all fell in but then we were trapped."

"For how long?"

"Two days. We ran out of food and water. Didn't have the energy to dig ourselves out although we tried for hours to start with."

"But you got out?"

"Yeah," Gibbs stared unseeingly out across the fields, "The Captain wouldn't stop looking for us. Found us just as the air was beginning to run out."

"Did being in the morgue make you feel the same way?"

There was a pause, "Yes, I guess it did. Although it didn't go on for so long. But I guess I felt hot, like I did in the desert even though the morgue was cold. And the smell was similar."

"Smells can bring back memories."

"Yeah. Other men had died in the dugout. Smell stayed around. I'd forgotten."

"What had you forgotten?"

"The smell. Then. The fear."

"But you were rescued?"

"Yes."

"Both times?"

"I guess."

"You had good people looking for you then. And you've got good people looking out for you now, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs continued to look out the window and then shook himself, "What's this got to do with our rash?"

"Probably nothing," said Tony, "Probably nothing."

NCISNCIS

The next day Tony said that the individual accounts had been interesting but hadn't told him what he needed to do so he suggested that the three agents go over their stories together to see what they might have missed out. "I'll just listen," he said, "Pretend I'm not here. Just talk."

And with nothing else to do, that's what they did. Tony took notes from his seat in the corner and occasionally prompted if the conversation flagged. After an hour or so, he drew the session to a halt,

"Thank you. That's given me enough to go on with. Why don't you go and get some lunch? Oh, and use this ointment – I think it might help."

"Wow, I feel really tired after that," said Ellie.

"Yeah. But in a good way," said Tim.

Gibbs looked closely at Tony but didn't say anything. He followed his agents out to the kitchen.

The MCRT stayed in the 'clean' house for another two days. Tony dropped in to see them periodically and asked them to let him know if they thought of anything else about the case. On the third day, he announced that he thought the danger of infection had passed and they could leave the house and return to normality.

"Keep using the cream as you need it," he advised them.

"So, what did we have, Doc?" asked Gibbs.

Tony shrugged, "I don't know, Agent Gibbs. Skin conditions can be mysterious; we may never know. But the important thing is that we stopped it spreading."

"I feel great," said Ellie, "Almost like I've been on vacation."

"Me too," said Tim.

"That's a useful side effect," said Tony, "An unlooked for benefit. The silver lining to the cloud. The gold at the …"

"Let's go," said Gibbs as he tired of the lieutenant's rhetoric.

"Thanks, Tony," said Ellie.

"Yeah, thanks," said Tim, "And thanks for the tips about Poison Ivy. And nervous hives," he looked meaningfully towards Gibbs.

"My pleasure," said Tony, "You've got my number. Call if you need help … with a dermatological question."

"Today!" barked Gibbs from the door.

The team scurried to catch him up.

NCISNCIS

"Lieutenant DiNozzo," said Gibbs as he sat down next to Tony with a cup of coffee. It was a few days later and Gibbs had tracked Tony down to a café close to the Navy Yard.

Tony looked up.

"Or should I say, Captain DiNozzo," said Gibbs as he looked at the insignia on the uniform.

"Agent Gibbs," said Tony, "This is a pleasure."

"An unexpected pleasure?" asked Gibbs.

"No, I don't think so," said Tony, "Somehow I don't think anything would be unexpected where you're concerned."

"I looked you up," said Gibbs.

"I thought you might."

"You're not a dermatologist."

"I did a rotation in dermatology," said Tony, "And it's interesting."

"And your mother is dead."

"True."

"And not from boredom from reading all those Sunday letters," said Gibbs.

Tony grinned in acknowledgement.

"And you're actually a psychiatrist," said Gibbs.

Tony raised his mug as a sign of agreement.

"You care to tell me what the hell was going on?"

"Agent Gibbs, you and your team scared off three of my co-workers. We had to find another way of getting you all to talk about your experiences."

"Talk!" said Gibbs contemptuously, "Why do psychiatrists always think we need to talk?"

Tony shrugged, "It's what we do. And do you deny that you feel better for having talked?"

It was Gibbs' turn to shrug.

"And even if you can manage without the psychological help, perhaps your team can't. And your attitude prevents them from seeking it. This way, you were all enabled to talk things through. And have a break."

"And why come as a dermatologist?"

"The least threatening role I could think of."

"And lieutenant instead of captain?"

"I thought you'd feel more comfortable with someone of lower rank."

"Huh," said Gibbs. He took a sip of his drink. "Thank you."

"That means a lot coming from you," said Tony.

Gibbs glared at Tony but realised that he was being sincere; that Tony had recognised that the simple words of thanks really were Gibbs' way of acknowledging a debt.

"It was lucky that we all went down with that rash," said Gibbs as he stood to go. He stood with head poised. The scepticism was clear.

"Yeah," said Tony. "Or rather it was lucky that Commander Green had that itching powder with him!"

Gibbs laughed and left.


AN: in the season 2 episode 'Heart Break' Tony mentioned that he had thought about becoming a doctor and had thought about being a dermatologist as it wouldn't involve any emergencies.