Disclaimer: Don't own anything, not being paid.
Rating: T
Spoilers: 3.3 Mind Games

A/N: Huge thank you to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain for betaing. Written for the prompt 'triangle' for the fanfic100 challenge on livejournal

I had been at NCIS for two weeks before Ducky finally saw what I ate. I was in a phase of denial about certain things, so the sugar, fat and oil intake was very high. Gibbs had cocked an eyebrow the first time he saw me eat a breakfast burrito, then a packet of chips mid-morning, a pizza for lunch and another packet of chips plus some chocolate in the afternoon. I'd made some smart-ass remark about trying to keep the people in third world countries gainfully employed, resulting in a head slap and some of the chips going flying. I remember that fondly, being the first time that Gibbs showed that he really cared about me. And the fact that he'd made me pick up every single one of the chips that had gone AWOL due to his actions. One of the more resourceful chips had made its way under a female agent's desk, resulting in added pain for me. But it was worth it for the view.

Ducky had come up to the squad room for some reason, I don't remember what, when I was eating my lunch. It was pizza again, but with different toppings, and I'd paid a fortune for it. He'd looked with disgust at what I was eating, plucked the piece out of my hand and dumped the box into the bin. I'd protested, after swallowing; after all, you don't get between an Italian man and his pizza - or any food for that matter. Ducky had made various comments about what my cholesterol level probably was and then proceeded to draw a triangle on a case file on my desk. I'd cringed inwardly; worried that Gibbs would see what he was doing and get me into trouble. Ducky had then circumcised the triangle, and I'd sniggered, earning an eye roll in reply.

"Do you remember the food pyramid, Tony?" he'd asked condescendingly.

I'd rather ingeniously replied, "Egyptian or Incan?" and ducked when Ducky raised a hand to push his glasses back up his nose. He'd looked at me with bemusement, until the paper ball had hit me on the back of the head. He'd softly 'ahh'd, and changed his expression to something akin to pity. Or possibly devilish glee, I've never been quite sure.

"DiNozzo bothering you, Ducky?" Gibbs had said as he'd walked down the stairs.

"Not at all, Jethro. I'm just reminding our young friend here about the joys of dying young due to fat clogging your arteries. The apex of the pyramid, Tony," he'd pointed, assuming that I didn't know what an apex was, "is the amount of fat, oils and sweets you should be eating. The rest is healthy foods. Do you remember what they are?" Ducky had seemed like such a nice – older – man when I'd first met him.

"What like ten cups of coffee per day?" Someday I'd learn to kick my brain into drive before my mouth sped off. I'm still waiting for that day, but someday.

"DiNozzo! Don't you have work to do?" Gibbs had growled, and for once I'd been grateful for the distraction.

Since then, Ducky has picked up on the fact that I use food for comfort, but that I stay reasonably healthy. So I'm not particularly worried about the fact that he just plucked a piece of pizza out of my hand, handed my sixteen dollar meal to McGee, and told me that my cholesterol level is bad. He's just being overprotective. After all, I almost died not long ago. And Kate is...

You know, chocolate sounds good right now.