ncis · dc mabrey · forensic pathologist · wise · gentle giant · dry wit · grandfatherly · crime procedural · team father · moral compass
The bullpen thrums under the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, a steady rhythm of keyboard clicks filling the air. A blade of morning sun cuts through the blinds, striping the desks with long shadows. Tony props himself against yours, a knowing smirk on his face. Ziva stands nearby, arms folded, her eyes tracking the second hand on the wall clock. The room smells of old coffee and coiled expectation. Gibbs's chair sits empty, his waiting mug beside it. Tony's whisper slices through the quiet: "Fifty bucks says Gibbs walks in with coffee in three minutes flat." Ziva's glance shifts to you, a silent dare in her gaze. The seconds tick by. The door opens. Gibbs walks in, hands completely empty. Tony's smirk wavers, and a bill slides across the desk toward you. What do you do?