.Chapter twelve

The hand-to-hand trainer was a brass-balled son-of-a-bitch, or so he claimed. Gibbs doubted it as he knew he was 'meaner, leaner and cleaner'. DI McAllister was just about to find out how bad-ass he really was.

The turnover in training officers at NCIS wasn't too bad, considering the work load, but three of the officers had retired at the same time. Two of the new officers were good guys, but McAllister was egocentric, to say the least. And a royal pain in the keester.

As it seemed he thought he was hot shit on a silver platter, the combined team was determined to show him that he was just a cold turd on a paper plate, if that.

TI McAllister paced up and down in front of the group. "Ok, ladies, we'll see who's got it and who doesn't." He eyed Tony, who eyed him back, insolence plain in every line of his body. "I've heard a lot about you, Dee Nose O. Wipe that smirk off your face."

Tony eyeballed the man like he'd like to eat him, or just chew him up and spit him back out. "Watch that attitude, or I'll watch it for you."

"Oh, Dee Nose O, you really think you can? Well, we'll see about that. As I am your examiner, you'll be facing me, instead of some drunk, teen-aged boot." McAllister nodded his head as if that settled everything.

Remy eyed Dean. Dean just groaned and said, "Rock-Paper-Scissors you for med."

Jimmy snorted. "Forgot about me? And I don't think AJ's going to need me."

Cosmo rolled his eyes. "Not for AJ. Him." he jerked his head at the TI. "AJ's gonna mess him up."

Tony turned to Gibbs. "Hey, Boss. What happens if I break the examiner?"

Gibbs shrugged. "No idea. Have at it."

Tony turned back to the TI. "Okay, Mack All Is Ter." His mocking of McAllister's mispronunciation of his name made the man turn red. "Let's get this over with."

McAllister was dressed in NCIS exercise gear, a dark blue t-shirt and BDU pants, with soft cross-trainers, footwear more suited to mats than boots. He eyed the group. "Well! Dress the fuck out."

There was a bit of laughter as the whole group just shed their boots, opting for bare feet. Since they were wearing some form of casual fatigues, it was good enough.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck, which popped alarmingly. "Ok, who's first?"

McAllister glowered at this usurpation of his, supposed, prerogative. "I believe that I'll decide that. Thank you." He eyed the group for a moment then said, "I've got people here who are not on the list. Sit down, or get out. I don't care which." He waited while Dean, Cosmo and Remy detached themselves from the group and settled on nearby bleachers. "Good. Now." He paced for a moment, obviously trying to off-balance his opponents. It didn't work; in fact, everyone looked more amused than anything.

"Gibbs, Dee Nose O. Palmer, McGee." he blinked. "Palmer? Who the fuck ...?" McAllister looked up to see Jimmy facing off with Tony. "You're that autopsy guy."

Jimmy turned, pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger then said, "I'm the Medical Examiner's Assistant. And a doctor in my own right. The point being?"

McAllister just snorted and barked, "Gibbs, Dee Nose O, you're up first. Begin!"

Since he was distracted Tony took the opportunity to take Gibbs down and get him in an arm lock. Gibbs slapped out, smacking the mat with his hand to indicate that he yielded.

Tony jumped back quickly, just because Gibbs had yielded didn't mean he wasn't going to turn, quick as an adder, and put him down in turn.

Gibbs grinned at Tony and feinted left. Tony moved to block and got put on his ass in his turn. Gibbs got him in a seated choke hold. Tony patted his arm and relaxed.

They demonstrated a few more moves then McAllister called, "Okay, you're both a pass. Here." he practically threw their pass cards at them.

Tim and Jimmy took up their places and waited for the whistle to start.

McAllister barked, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Jimmy shrugged. "A whistle? Some signal that you're ready? Maybe? Just a thought, you know."

McAllister sneered at him and blew a long blast on his whistle. Tim promptly dumped Jimmy on his ass. Jimmy clapped out as he was on his back with Tim sitting on his thighs. McAllister barked, "No clap out! McGee, you have to roll him over for cuffing." Tim struggled and wrestled but Jimmy finally got him down and ready for cuffing. Tim slapped out.

They stood up, waiting for McAllister to say something.

Gibbs did instead. "Well, what are you two girls waiting for? An engraved invitation?"

Jimmy made a snatch at Tim who ducked under it. Instead of chasing Tim, Jimmy stepped back. Tim wound up chasing Jimmy, which set him up for a take-down. Jimmy got Tim in cuff position with a bit of wrestling. Tim slapped out.

McAllister called the match with two pins per man. "Okay, okay. Enough. You both pass. Here." he threw pass cards at them them barked, "Now get out of my gym."

They got, snickering at his disgruntled look.

Cosmo allowed, "Dude, you should have messed him up."

Tony shrugged. "Later. I'll get him ... sooner or later. I just wanted to get our pass cards and get out of there. Vance'll be happy."

And Director Vance was very happy when Gibbs handed over all the pass cards, saying, "Read and rejoice."

Leon Vance counted the cards, reading the names with a smile. "So, J. Palmer is qualified to carry a small arm, passed the physical requirements and the Defense/Offense exam. Why?"

Tony, fidgeting with some knick-knack, said, "Why not? He's a good guy. It was good for him."

"Just wondered. He is a good man. I'm looking at him to take Ducky's place when the time comes." Vance put the cards in the proper folders then nodded to Gibbs. "Take Mr. Palmer down to the armory and get him fitted."

"Okay. We good?" Gibbs smirked at his sort-of friend.

"We're good." He smirked back. "All of us are. Very good."

Tony laughed at the double entendre and followed Gibbs out the door.

"Great, Boss. Now what?"

Gibbs smirked at Tony. "First, we get Dr. Palmer his arms. Then we find a case."

"Yeah. We gonna keep up the PT?"

"You know it. I feel better than I have in ... since I got blown up the second time." He eyed Tony. "You ever?"

"Yup. At least twice. Not sure if you count gettin' thrown out of a PPV that ran over an IED." Tony grinned.

"Me neither. Come on." Gibbs led the way down to the bullpen.

They took Jimmy down to the Armory and got him set up with his service issue and carry permit. No one was the least bit surprised when the first thing he did was take it to his tiny office and clean it. He was cleaned, loaded and holstered in twenty minutes. It took him that long because he carefully inspected every piece of his weapon before he reassembled it. Gibbs approved.

.

Tim sat at his desk and grinned like a fool. He'd made it. He'd done all the PT and everything. He thought he'd keep up the PT, even if the others didn't.

Dean settled beside him. "Dude, we're setting up maintenance. You?"

"Count me in. I worked too hard to let it go." Tim nodded at Dean. "New spread sheets?"

"No, the old one is fine, just set up a new page. We'll keep a chart." Dean leaned over Tim's shoulder to watch and make suggestions.

The rest of the group gathered in the bullpen to bitch and moan about things in general. Tim just listened and laughed.

Finally Cosmo asked, "Okay, Digimon, fess up. Something that really gets your goat. Or someone who really knows where the goat is tied."

Tim shrugged. "Okay, true fact. My Father thinks I'm some sort of idiot. He's convinced that all I have to do is try really hard and I won't get sea sick. He's sure it's some sort of juvenile rebellion on my part. I swear." He laughed sourly. "And he thinks I'm a ... what he calls 'weak willie'." He managed an amused smirk. "And I assure you that I'm a bit above normal size ... there."

Everyone cracked up.

Tony eyeballed Remy. Remy poked Cosmo who kicked Dean who was sitting on the floor. Dean glanced up as the kick had been a 'pay attention' kick. Gibbs, noticing the byplay cleared his throat.

Tony announced, "In celebration of our passing our requal, I think we ought to go run the full confidence course on Saturday. I'll make arrangements. Who's in?"

Everyone was in as Gibbs had immediately called Jimmy to check.

.

The rest of the week was spent in catch-up work. A few cold cases had heated up again, thanks to the new eyes of Remy, Dean and Cosmo.

Abby was in and out of the bullpen, forensic evidence in hand. Gibbs had stopped going down so much as he really did need to keep an eye on what was beginning to be called Gibbs' Animal House. The SEALs could get into more trouble in two seconds than a dozen toddlers in a munitions dump. Everyone was good-humored about the pranks, and grateful for their help, but every single team lead had caught Gibbs at one time or another and begged him to put a leash on his running dogs.

Ducky was amused by all the foolishness but very impressed with his mild-mannered assistant. He was glad to see that Jimmy was finally 'growing a pair,' as he was going to have to be in someone's face from time to time. An ME needed to be able to defend his findings against skeptical team heads, department heads and officious meddlers of various types. He was also very grateful that the young man had moved in with him.

Friday came and they were all looking forward to their run. Jimmy had come up from Autopsy to hang for a bit while Tony checked on their arrangements.

"Shit!" Tony slammed his phone down.

Gibbs looked up. "What?"

"I forgot that this weekend is Graduation. All the courses are closed. All personnel are going to be at the ceremony." Tony frowned at the floor.

"Never heard of that." Gibbs was well aware that all the personnel associated with a training group usually attended the graduation ceremony for the group.

"Huge graduation this time. There's not enough available personnel to man anything so training is suspended for the day." Tony sighed. "Now what?"

Tim looked up from his computer with a slight smile. "How would you feel about taking part in the Spartan Challenge? It's sponsored by a group you're well aware of. I've got a friend on staff."

Tony grinned. "Tim, you're a life-saver." His grin widened. "What flavor do you want to be?"

Tim laughed at that. "Grape. I'll sign us up." He tapped at his keyboard then looked up. "Gibbs, as the highest star, you'll have to show your coin so we can get in."

"Okay, I'll be sure to have it." Gibbs never went anywhere without it, nor did Tony or Ducky.

It didn't take Tim long to finish the preliminaries and get their enrollment packets. He had to print them out on his printer as they were PDF files, but that was fine.

He handed them out, then settled to read his own. It wasn't long before everyone was bitching and moaning about how hard the run was going to be. And Remy was a bit loud about mud.

"I hate mud, fuck, there's no mud in a desert. Just sand, lots and lots of sand."

Tony swatted him in the head. "Well, it'll make a nice change then. Shut it."

Dean and Cosmo just exchanged glances then left. Cosmo announced, "We'll be making up packs. Won't need much, just hydration and medic. Doc?"

Jimmy, who gloried in two nicknames, just shrugged. "Already have a pack made up. It's a fanny pack with just enough to stop major bleeding and that."

The elevator closed on the last of that comment, leaving Jimmy smirking.

.

Saturday dawned with great weather, slightly cool, beautiful sun and a forecast of that continuing all day.

Tony and Gibbs both had their coins in hand as the group gathered at the check-in desk. A quick flash of metal and a credit card and they were signed up for the run.

This wasn't a race, it was a run. Each team's only goal was to complete the course, without losing a man, or woman in some teams. All the teams that completed the course would get a certificate of completion.

In order to be fair to all the teams, lots were drawn for the order in which they would start their run. Each team was formed up and they were sent off at intervals of ten minutes. Team Gibbs was the fourth team to go.

The run was a monster and included everything four devious Ex-SEALs and two former Marine DI's could think up. The only thing not included was live fire.

Every obstacle had a name, and most of the names were indicative of the skill set needed to get through it. The Tarzan Swing was self-explanatory, while the Belly Buster took a bit. The Ball Buster made sense but the Alligator Crawl didn't, until you saw it. The Mud Pit was another that was self-explanatory. All in all the run should take about three hours and included a dozen individual challenges and four team challenges.

They started out at a hard trot that they would maintain for the entire run. The first obstacle was a team effort. A rope was strung from one high platform to another and it was impossible for one person to get across it by himself; it took teamwork to steady the rope enough that it could be crossed.

Then there were several dodging obstacles from simple football-style tire setups to a much more complicated Stake and Bar made up of upright stakes to dodge around and through and long logs across the path that they had to jump, all in a combination that kept them, literally, hopping.

The next group was a combination of crawling obstacles and climbing. The Tarzan swing was followed by the Alligator Crawl.

By now the whole group was beginning to sweat. Jimmy ordered a round of drinks for everyone. As the event was sponsored by Spartans and several companies, they had to use that company's product. Therefore, their hydration packs had been 'confiscated' but there were several hydration stops on the course, provided by sports drink companies. They stopped at one and gulped down cups of drink. Jimmy wasn't happy at the size of the cups and had a few words with the company man in charge.

"Look, this is a four oz sample size. It's barely adequate. You need to supply at least eight ounces per cup." Jimmy gulped another cup.

"It's a sample, you're not supposed to actually ... er ... um ..." the man trailed off as he realized that 'just a taste' wasn't what was needed.

"Sure. So." Jimmy checked. "everyone have at least four cups."

Tony gently nudged one of the servers aside and snagged a gallon of mixed drink. He gulped down about a third then passed it to Gibbs. Gibbs did the same and passed the jug to Remy. While he was finishing that off, Gibbs snagged another and handed it to Cosmo, who also gulped down what he needed then passed on to Dean. They tossed the empty containers to the waiting company man and took off again.

After a mile or so of flat path, they came to the next group of obstacles. This bunch was a combination of team and individual equipment. The kicker was, it was easier to get through the individual obstacles by helping each other. And help they did. This got them through the third set of obstacles in good time and kept them from exhausting themselves by struggling to do things alone.

The last group was right at the finish line. It included the Mud Pit, a Barbed Wire crawl and a Slide for Life. Usually the slide was last but in this case some hard-assed SEAL decided that it should be the crawl, slide, then the pit.

Tony took up position to lift the first strand, as was military practice, but one of the officials politely told him that it wasn't permitted. He crawled under it and scrambled his way through the wet sand to the other end with his whole team on his heels.

The slide for life is very simple: climb a tower on a stairway to heaven and take a cable slide down to the ground, only in this case the cable ended over the mud pit.

Remy climbed up first, an aid at the top gave him simple instructions. "Ok, military?" Remy nodded. "Good. This slide is a bit different than you're used to. Don't trade ends in the middle. Just hook your arms and legs around the cable and slide down it. Do not let the cable touch bare skin. Ok? Ready? Go." Remy got the cable in the crook of one elbow and hooked his knees over it; the aid gave him a bit of a push and he was gone. Gibbs took his place, received the same instructions and followed. The rest of the team were right on his heels.

They all landed in the mud, Remy first. He waited for the rest to gather before heading for the finish line. It was almost impossible; the mud was thick and sticky, sucking at their boots and legs.

Tim struggled to even lift one leg high enough to take a step. He couldn't.

Tony looked around. "The first three groups have ground the water into the base. It's really thick. What now?"

Remy, as the tallest, was making some headway but didn't go far. "It's one of those."

Tony nodded. "Someone's going to have to lay down in this mess and let the next guy walk over him, then lay down too. We'll get a man to the bank and then make a chain."

Tim just lay down. "I'll be first. I'm light."

Jimmy just walked over him and lay down too. "I'd suggest the next man crawl. A foot in the gut isn't a good idea."

Dean just knelt down and crawled over Tim then Jimmy and settled next.

It worked like a charm. Remy, as heaviest next to Tony, took anchor and they chained themselves out of the mud in record time.

They all dragged themselves out of the pit and onto solid, dry ground and just lay there for a moment. Then Tony got to his feet. "Well, come on. Let's finish this bitch."

They took about ten seconds to get to the finish line, actually coming in second as they'd passed two groups that had started before them.

They were met by a group of Navy higher-ups, the staff of an Admiral who'd found out that they were enrolled in the run. Tony sighed. "Well, fuck. I was hoping to avoid this sort of shit. Come on."

They formed up and waited. Cosmo muttered, "Trust some brass-hat to keep us standing around, wet and muddy, while he gets promo flash."

Just as soon as he said that the admiral's chief aid called them over. "The Admiral will see you now."

Tim grumbled, "Well, thank you so fucking much. Dick."

The SEALs formed up and marched over, followed by Tim, Gibbs and Jim.

While they stood at attention the Admiral, puffed up with his own importance, informed them that he was proud to have them in 'his' Navy, that they were a credit to the uniform. Then he asked their names ... not that this would ever help him identify them in the future; their faces were totally obscured by the muck they'd just crawled through.

Tony performed the introductions after the Admiral had ordered, 'At Ease'.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Remiel Devereaux; Chief Warrant Officer Dean Cale, Chief Petty Officer Cosmo Richter; and I'm Lieutenant Commander Anthony DiNozzo, Jr." Tony pointed to each of his men as he said their names.

The Admiral nodded, "Relax, gentlemen. But ..." he looked over Tony's shoulder. "I think you've missed a couple."

"They're not enlisted, sir." Tony glanced at the admiral's name badge and stiffened. He pinned his gaze over the admiral's left ear. "I can't give any of them an order."

"I see. But they're running with you, so I'd like an introduction. If you would." Admiral John McGee did his best to keep his smile polite and professional. "I'd like to meet men you feel worthy of running with the Navy."

Tony glanced over his shoulder. He got a nod from Tim. But before he could begin, Admiral McGee put his foot in his mouth. "My son should be one of you but he's too much the geek to even try. He works at NCIS, doing some sort of computer tech job. Big disappointment."

The whole group stiffened then fixed their glares over the admiral's shoulder.

Tony just motioned to Gibbs. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Gunnery Sergeant USMC, Retired. And my Team Lead at NCIS." Gibbs nodded from his place behind and to one side. "Dr James Palmer, NCIS. And last, but not least, my partner at NCIS ... And one bad-ass Mother Fucker ... Tim McGee."

Jim blinked at the admiral, but Tim just waved. "Hi."

Admiral McGee, realizing that he'd put his foot in it big-time, tried to make the best of it. "Well, son, I hope you haven't been wasting these fine men's time." He turned to Tony. "He hasn't been bothering you?"

Tony bit his tongue to keep from making some snarky comment. "No, sir, he's my partner, sir. I rely on him to watch my six in the field ... sir."

Gibbs wasn't having any of this. "Look. Tony's over a barrel here. He's only a Lt. Cmdr." He shrugged, "But me? I'm a Marine and retired. Tim's a good man. He's a great agent and an asset in the field and out. And ... in case you're goin' senile ... he just completed the Spartan run. You don't care for that boy and I don't know why. He's mentally and physically fit. He's a bad-ass that I'm proud to have on my team. You don't get to disrespect him like that. And straight to his face? Seriously?" Gibbs eyed the admiral for a moment. "You done holdin' us up?"

Tim sighed. "Father, really. We're all sandy, wet, muddy and tired; don't you think that, of the two of us, you're more bother than I am? Let them go get cleaned up." He gave his father a disgusted look. "Go sign a requisition form or something." And with that, he walked off to the outside showers that had been set up so that runners could rinse most of the mud off before going inside the tent that had been set up for them to shower and change in.

Admiral McGee blinked. This was not the hesitant, shy boy he'd sent off to MIT, nor the boy who'd puked all over him when he'd finally convinced him to try the seasickness shots then taken him out on his boat. This was a man. He eyeballed the group of SEALs for a moment then snarled, "Dismissed."

Remy led the way, double time to the shower.

Gibbs eyed the Admiral then gave him a bit of home truth. "True fact: You're no dad to him. He calls you father. Think about it. He's mine now, so watch yourself." He headed for the showers, grumbling about armchair admirals and brass-hats as he went.

Jimmy eyed the admiral for a moment then just snorted, "Sir." and followed.

Admiral McGee's chief aide asked, "Do you want me to write them up, sir?"

"No, no I don't. Guess they told me. Let's get out of here." He had the good sense to just walk away. He realized that he'd lost whatever chance he'd had of making a man of his son. He'd managed quite well, all by himself.

.

In the rinse-off, Tim leaned against the wall, holding the bar above his head that held the canvas panel. "Damn it."

Tony touched Tim on the arm. "You okay?"

"Yes ... no ... maybe." Tim seriously wanted to just go back out and scream at his father.

"Pick one, Probie. Then we'll talk." Tony knew exactly how Tim felt, his own father was just as bad.

Tim washed the mud off his clothing and out of his hair. He took that time to think. "AJ?"

"Mmm?" Tony had his face until the shower head so he just mumbled.

"In answer to your question..." everyone's ears hung out. "Yes, I'm okay. You're all better than he is. No, I'm not okay. I don't think I ever really respected the man. He's not a good father, too busy trying to make me be what he wanted, to see what I am. And ... no maybe. I'll be fine. As soon as I'm done being mad. See?"

Tony sighed. "I do."

Remy sighed, "If he wasn't an admiral, I'd prank him into next month. Idiot. You're worth a dozen of him and his staff."

Dean was a bit more pointed. "You sure he's your daddy? I mean, you're so different. You're smarter than him, for one. He's just a rear admiral in the worst sense of the word."

Tim grinned. "Did you know that rear admiral used to mean someone with ... non-standard sexual appetites?"

Cosmo nodded wisely. "See? Smarter. Man's a stain on the uniform. Bean-counting come stain."

Tim snorted. "Don't let him upset you. I'm not going to." He looked around. "What? I just decided. Let's get cleaned up."

So they showered there then went into the real showers and stripped off. They handed their stuff to Remy and Gibbs to wring out. Gibbs had a surprisingly tight grip for a man of his size. After the clothing was wrung as dry as possible, Jim shook them all out and stuffed them into a duffel.

They then showered again, this time with soap, to get the last of the mud and grit out of 'private' places. As Gibbs observed, "No one is comfortable with sand up their ass."

They dressed in casual clothing and comfortable, dry boots and went to collect their award certificates.

Tony, as team lead, was given all of them and handed them out with a flourish.

Gibbs eyed it for a moment then just put it neatly into a folder he produced from his duffel.

Everyone else also seemed to have some sort of folder for their own awards.

Jimmy smiled proudly as he read his. "Wait until Ducky sees this. He'll be so proud."

They left the award area and headed out to the parking lot where they'd all parked together.

Tony unlocked his SUV then grinned around. "Let's all meet at O'Shay's for a beer and some pizza."

The general consensus was that they'd all worked hard and deserved a beer or four.

They drove off in a cavalcade of black SUV's.

.

End notes: there are several different schools of yoga. Penny most likely would do Iyengar yoga, a fairly gentle style which uses props and is easy on those who are stiffer or just less able. Tony would more likely do Bikram or hot yoga (based on Hatha). This is done in a hot room and is very intense, utilizing fast transitions to increase flexibility and stamina at the same time. I tried Hatha once and nearly collapsed. Ugh. I'm an Iyengar gal all the way. If you're interested in better descriptions than I've provided, feel free to Google.

Someone asked about the name Gremlin. I don't mean one of those cute creatures in the movie. In WWII gremlins were evil, machine-destroying creatures who would make ships sink and planes crash. Anything that went wrong that no one could figure out was blamed on them. So, Jimmy's Gremlin is that kind. Least in sight, unassuming to look at and surprisingly dangerous.

In this world, the 'jacket' that everyone wears, the one with all the pockets is referred to as a blouse as that is what I was taught to call it. Also the daily uniform shirt that is worn in an office is called a blouse.

I realized, after some poking around, that most people really won't be interested in details of the Grinder. If you are, google it, and be prepared to be awed. Ouch.