"Anthony, might I have a word with you, I promise I won't keep you but a minute."
Tony turned to the older man, a pleasant smile set firmly on his face, because he could never be purposely, outright rude to the M.E.. He doubted that this would only take "a minute", but when Ducky requested your presence, you indulged him. Tony took a relaxed pose against one of the slabs, though he felt anything but.
"Yes, Ducky? What can I do for you?"
"I think that it's more of what I can do for you, young friend. I've noticed you've not been your usual self as of late, and so has Jethro. He's a bit concerned about you, but really doesn't know how to go about inquiring without seeming like he's prying."
"Huh. Gibbs has never worried before about prying, strange he'd start now. I'm fine, just have a lot on my plate right now."
"And on that plate is there a portion of anger at being unfairly labeled in a moment of unguarded humor?"
Tony straightened a bit. He hadn't been expecting this. It had happened days ago.
"You think calling someone a narcissist is funny, Ducky? Because I thought psychology was a serious business, and that you were studying up on it."
Nervously removing his glasses and cleaning them, Ducky looked off into the distance, regret showing clearly in his blue eyes.
"Apparently I need to study harder, my friend. Because listening to an unqualified agent's glib remark should not have led to voicing any sort of opinion on my part. Though Jethro understands quite a bit about human nature after his years as a soldier and federal agent, he's in no way qualified to make that sort of connection between yourself and our victim. I should have said more than what I did to nip it in the bud. I heard the doors open, and close, but the visitor was gone when we looked up."
"It could have been anyone, Ducky. How do you think that would have worked out, another agent or employee overhearing that conversation and passing it around in the break room? It's not important what I think, I know what goes on inside my head, and it gets pretty squirrelly sometimes. But I know enough psychology to know that you can't have empathy and be a narcissist. They're mutually exclusive, regardless of what you told Gibbs. But maybe the average agent or lab tech doesn't know that. I have a hard enough time navigating this place as it is, Ducky. I don't need an interoffice memo circulating that I only think about myself and my needs. No one in this line of work wants to work with someone who'll put themselves before the job, before their coworkers."
"You would never even contemplate that, Anthony. You have given of yourself selflessly on many occasions before and after your tenure here."
"You know that. I know that. Gibbs even knows that. But I don't go out in the field with you, and there's lots of other agents I work with besides Gibbs, including my own teammates who would use what you and Gibbs considered a humorous observation as non-stop ammunition. They already have enough to work with."
"And whose fault is that, DiNozzo, and why the hell aren't you up in the bullpen working?"
Ducky watched in amazement as Tony judiciously bit back an instant retort, instead gathering his thoughts before speaking.
"Ducky asked me to stay for a minute while we discussed something important, something that has to do with my well-being, and safety, as an agent."
"It was a stupid comment, DiNozzo. You trying to tell me you're not vain?"
"I'm not trying to tell you anything, Boss, you've already got your mind made up. But whatever you think of me, it needs to be kept inside your head, or in a sealed personnel file."
"This coming from the guy that harasses his teammates on an hourly basis."
"I give as good as I get from them, and very few people here think I ever know what I'm talking about, or even listen to what I say. You, Ducky…that's a whole other ballgame, and you know it. Someone spreading it around that both of you believe I'm so in love with myself that I'm not capable of doing my job is uncalled for, and dangerous. More dangerous than Kate Photoshopping me into that gay cowboy picture. Nothing good can come of it, Boss. I wear a lot of masks to deal with a lot of crap, but they're not who I am. This job would eat me alive if I didn't deflect some of the shit that gets thrown at me, and yeah, that includes a lot of flack from you. You know that better than anyone. No one has to love me here, they don't even have to like me very much. But they do have to trust me that I'm gonna watch their six, something that I excel at, if nothing else. I'm asking you professionally to be careful about how you talk about me, about any of us. It's never been a problem up until now. And I sure as hell don't want it to become one."
"All the stupid things I say to you in the bullpen, and this is what's got a bug up your ass?"
"Jethro…" Ducky growled a warning.
"There's a line in the sand, Boss. I'm drawing it. I don't disrespect you in front of the team or other agents. You need to have the same courtesy as my superior."
"Like you do as Tim and Ziva's superior?"
Tony huffed a quiet sigh and turned to Ducky.
"Thanks for the talk, Ducky. I appreciate your concern. I need to get back to the case."
And with that, he strode out of autopsy, stiff-backed and stiff-lipped. Catching the M.E.'s scornful look, Gibbs spread his hands in a placating gesture.
"What, Ducky? I didn't say anything that wasn't the truth!"
"The truth in your eyes, Jethro. Honestly, that boy has the soul and patience of a saint. Can you not, just once, concede that perhaps you made an error in judgment?"
"Rule six, Duck."
"Damn your rules, Jethro, he was not asking for an apology! He was asking you to understand that words have consequences! He was asking you to let him keep doing his job without his coworkers thinking that when the crap hits the fan, he'll be busy looking at himself in a mirror! We both know that that is the farthest thing from the truth, but our blithe conversation regarding his psyche had the power to do damage!
"Yes, he has, on several occasions, tormented his teammates with nicknames and harmless taunts; he has never jeopardized their careers, or lives, by going too far. He's right, there is a line, and we crossed it in a moment of what was a poor excuse for humor. Anthony may have his foibles, as we all do, but he is a stellar agent with innate skills that most here would give their pension to have. He can go far if he's allowed, and I'm sure that you would prefer that he be on your team while he hones those skills. Don't be the one to crush his spirit with your determination to always be right. You were wrong, Jethro. We both were. And as Anthony said, if it had been anyone other than him to overhear us, we would both be called out on the carpet for our loose lips. He has done nothing but strive to live up to your impossible expectations of him, Jethro. For once, at least attempt to live up to his."
Gibbs gave the man a hard, unreadable look turned on his heel to the swish of the autopsy doors. The older man shook his head and muttered under his breath about stubborn Marines and implacable bosses.
()()()()()()()()()
Gibbs breezed in to a quiet bullpen, having gone for coffee to clear some of the buzzing in his head. He'd simply gone to fetch a tardy DiNozzo from autopsy and gotten a shellacking from both Tony and Ducky. Ducky, he was used to getting an earful from, and usually only heard half of what he said. He wasn't accustomed to being on the business end of lecture from DiNozzo. He usually tried to curb his impulsive nature so as not to suffer the young man's wrath, because as easy going as Tony seemed to most people, he was a formidable opponent when you got on the wrong side of him.
And Gibbs had had to finally admit, once he calmed down, the wisdom of his SFA'S request to watch how he spoke of other agents. What was meant in jest, or ignorance, or ill-conceived humor had the power to injure both career and body, especially in their line of work. There was no room for doubt or suspicion from fellow agents. Reputations were everything, and rumors ruined lives. Head slaps here and there, and an occasional sarcastic put down were how they all rolled. Digging into an agent's psychological profile in a way that someone could easily overhear and misinterpret was completely uncalled for, and DiNozzo had justifiably and rightly let him know it down in Ducky's autopsy.
Swinging around the partition off the elevator, he plunked a pastry bag down in front of his most senior agent, along with a cup of the gawdawful hazelnut flavored coffee the younger man loved. Waiting for Tony to turn and look up at him, he hoped he could convey something through words and deed that didn't sound false or trite. His SFA did turn, but on his own time, obviously expecting another lecture and brush-off regarding his concerns about being disrespected by fellow agents. Tony did a double-take at the bag, and cup of steaming Starbucks coffee. Gibbs leaned in, arms straight out on Tony's desk so as to talk a bit more privately with his agent.
"I shouldn't have walked out on you like that in autopsy. What you said is totally valid. Our reputations are everything in this kind of job and it doesn't take but one wrong word, no matter how unintentional, to sink a career. You've worked your ass off for me, for this agency, and you have every right to protect yourself even against me. Maybe especially against me. It's why I don't say very much most of the time. It hardly ever comes out like what I was thinking in my head. And I don't think you're what Ducky and I were saying. It was more a general observation, but that doesn't matter, in fact, that makes it even worse. Handing out labels isn't in my job description, and I should know better. I do now. Won't happen again, and if anything like it does, you have my permission to do what you just did with Ducky and me. You might think I'm an old dog, but I can still learn a new trick now and then. Don't give up on me."
"Thanks, Boss. That was…more than I've heard you say in a month's time."
"You needed to hear it, Tony." Gibbs assured him, going back to his own desk and settling in for the rest of the afternoon. He felt immensely better now that he knew what had been keeping his senior agent tied up in knots, and was able to see through his own pride to loosen the rope some. He had been lackadaisical about running his mouth, and then about owning up to his poor judgment in doing so. He'd never admit it to Tony, but the kid meant a lot to him, and he knew he had to try a little harder at not hurting him. DiNozzo didn't ask for much from anyone, and when he did, it meant that whatever he was asking for was important to him. It was time that Gibbs put a little more effort into at least considering what the kid needed. Now he just had to get out of his own damned way.