In Matters of Professional Opinions

"Ducky, this gets really annoying," Jethro Gibbs complained in annoyance to the usually understanding Dr. Donald Mallard, who did not bother to even acknowledge the observation.

No, instead, he regarded the vial of painkiller in front of him, and focused upon filling the syringe he held with its contents. He leaned down and swabbed Jethro's upper arm with an alcohol pad before administering the dose.

Still extremely dissatisfied with the doctor's response, Jethro narrowed his eyes into a glare. "Really, Duck, I think by now I know when I need to rest or to seek medical treatment. You just assume for some unknown reason that I will mess it up." Throwing himself against the sofa cushions in resignation, Gibbs attempted to scowl with some credibility.

Ducky regarded him with a shake of the head, relying upon his pragmatic Scottish nature to counter his friend's petulance. "My good man, our friendship has endured far too long for me to waste my time listening to feeble arguments. You received a disturbing injury on the job this afternoon, one significant enough for your Director and me to send you home with instructions to not return to work this weekend. Having years of experience as your NCIS colleague, doctor, and personal friend, I would not dream of trusting you to look out for yourself today."

Gibbs shook his head emphatically from side to side, and realized that the medicine had begun to work. He felt groggy. "I blame you ahead of time if I get a visit from any of those crazy dreams again. You know it bothers me to have side effects like that and yet you give me some dream inducing painkiller every single time."

Smirking, Dr. Mallard declined a verbal response but motioned Jethro to lie down.

Surprisingly, Gibbs obeyed without too much objection.

The much celebrated NCIS agent met his match with the medicine.

Ducky straightened his glasses and soothed, "Dreaming of your team as your own offspring hardly qualifies as bizarre. Quite the contrary- it embodies your paternal role….."

"Why not stick to your role as a doctor," Gibbs interrupted, annoyed and beginning to feel a need to sleep from his groggy state, "instead of turning yourself into a psychiatrist, Duck?"

"Ah, I see, my good man. You would prefer to have me approach you as a one trick pony, Jethro. Actually, that suits me today. I do feel it prudent to point out, though, that despite your forbidding them to check on you, I would wager your team will slip over here to nurse you."

No argument followed that pronouncement.

Ducky reached over Jethro, unfolded the well worn cotton throw at the end of the sofa, and covered his friend before letting himself out of the house.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs slipped into dreamland.

All four children watched him intently for the signal that they could bless the food and eating supper could commence. Leroy Jethro Gibbs, also known as Agent Gibbs, Jethro, the Gunny, Daddy, or Dad, took a panoramic view of his children and smiled at their clean faces.

Nodding, he motioned to Tim to say grace for the family. The child had reminded him three times right before the meal that it was his turn to do so.

Shy and normally quite a bit withdrawn, nevertheless eight year old Tim happily recited the family standard aloud for his father and siblings.

Gibbs nodded his approval at the conclusion, and Tim beamed back in response before carefully tucking his napkin into his lap.

Jethro privately worried about his young son, who did not naturally share the gregarious social skills of his siblings. Further, he approached new situations nervously, and tended to concern himself with solitary activities. An introvert, his intellectual capability led him to immerse himself in a subject when it interested him, and he enjoyed the minutiae which thoroughly mastering a topic demanded. Blond and sturdy, he insisted that he wanted to grow up to become an inventor like Thomas Edison, about whom he had perused several biographies.

Beside Timothy sat Kate, regal and poised even at the age of nine. Quite sure of herself, she enjoyed any opportunity to boss her brothers and sister and tended to speak bluntly. Her dark hair framed a delicate face, and lately she styled it differently each day, beginning to copy styles she discovered while out in outings around D.C. An innate investigator, she liked to delve to the origin of any topic or conversation, and had developed an analytical nature that her father privately thought would lead her into a legal career.

Little Abby sat on Tim's other side. At seven and the baby of the family, she often got into trouble for borrowing belongings from her siblings without permission. She possessed a tremendous curiosity not only about her own life, but about every one else's as well. She stayed abreast of the comings and goings of all her family members and acted as both the family cheerleader and the family conscience. Abby informed anyone who would listen that she wanted to grow up and work as an agent like her daddy did, and actually had a knack of working puzzles and solving problems which required advanced logic. Her hair had turned from blond to brunette as she grew, and her green eyes accentuated her expressive face. A cuddly little girl, she had no problem bestowing affection to her family members.

Last, Gibbs focused upon his oldest child, ten year old Tony, and could not help but smile when Tony grinned at him and winked. With shimmery green eyes and brown hair streaked with dark blond, the boy turned heads even as a child. Tony stayed besieged with little girls requesting his attention, but so far, he just took their pleas in stride. Jethro recognized his son would always attract females without trying. A boy's boy with innate athletic prowess, he involved himself in every sport he could play, and worked well with others or in teams.

"Daddy, what does one tricked pony mean?" Abby took a swallow of milk, licked the excess from her lips, and waited expectantly for an answer.

Gibbs finished chewing his bite of chicken before he replied. "Where did you hear that expression, Honey?"

He motioned to Kate to move the bowl of wild rice away from the edge of the table.

"You mean trick, Abby, not tricked," Tim added helpfully, carefully buttering his roll as he corrected his little sister.

That annoyed her instead of pleased her. "Be quiet Timmy and let me talk only to Daddy!" Sliding from the chair Abby skirted the table and climbed into Jethro's lap.

"You are much too big to sit in Daddy's lap at the table, Abby," observed Kate, the family's expert upon issues of propriety. "When are you going to quit acting like such a baby all the time?"

Scowling, Abby perched on one of her father's legs and stuck her tongue out at her sister. Jethro wrapped his left arm around her waist to secure her, and then took advantage of the opportunity to pop a forkful of green peas into her mouth.

Leaning against his strong chest, she chewed thoughtfully, twirling one of her pigtails with her left hand.

Winking with delighted anticipation at Abby, Tony turned to Kate to provoke her and retaliate for his little sister. "Katie, really, you know very well you act like the biggest baby of all of us. You start crying if Dad even tries to cut off your nightlight and you know it."

Popping a spoonful of rice in his mouth, he plastered a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I sleep all in the dark now," Tim announced, grinning, and thrilled that he could outshine his older sister in this situation. For added emphasis he patted himself on his chest.

As Tony had planned, the comments elicited an outraged reply from Kate, followed by another observation from Tony, and just like that, a full out squabble rocked the Gibblet world with four upset and determined voices trying to outdo each other.

Setting Abby on the floor beside his chair Jethro Gibbs stood up and held up his hand. Suspicious of his intentions, the kids looked first in confusion, then conspiratorially from each other to him.

Closer inspection confirmed that the meal might just possibly end with a couple of someones getting pulled across their father's knees for a spanking.

No one wanted that.

Within seconds silence resonated, followed closely by the sounds of forks hitting plates and milk being drunk.

Jethro led Abby back to her seat and set her in her chair before pouring himself a cup of coffee and returning to his own place.

Slipping his napkin back onto his lap he raised his eyebrows and resumed the conversation. "The expression is one trick pony, not one tricked, Abby. Where did you hear that phrase?"

She smiled, showing the gap from her missing upper tooth. "Sesame Street, 'cause Oscar the Grouch told Cookie Monster he just was a one tricked pony about cookies!"