Every Day Quotes Week 50
Title: Every Day Quotes
Rating: K
Dec 16
You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.
George Burns (1896 - 1996)
Ducky wobbled dangerously before stabilizing himself. Then he began to smile. This had been a good idea.
Except for the risk of various injuries. He was most concerned about twists, sprains and breaks. Any of those would put him and Jethro out of action for weeks.
He did not want to inquire as to where Jethro had appropriated two pairs of roller-skates, especially not two pairs that were suitable for men and fit them both. His were black with a red lightning bolt along the outer side, while Jethro’s were dark blue. Jethro had suggested wearing a variety of pads and a helmet, but Ducky had argued against it.
No sense drawing more attention to two elderly men roller-skating through DC.
They skated through Rock Creek Park, both hoping they would not run into Jethro’s team. Abby would understand, but the team would not. Far better not to tell them what the two friends got up to in their spare time.
The biting wind chilled Ducky, but the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky for once. If the frozen wind died down, it would be a nice, albeit cool, day. The forecast was for snow in the next few days, and then their outdoor activities would have to stop. At least it would give them an opportunity to spend more time on their yoga.
They continued their leisurely skating, exchanging grins every now and then. This had definitely been a good idea.
~*~*~*~
Dec 17
Force overcome by force.
(Vi Victa Vis)
Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)
Philip Irving didn’t think an agency he’d never heard of would ever be able to prove he’d killed that marine the other night. What the hell was NCIS anyway? If he’d never heard of it, there was a good bet it was rubbish and he would be out of here by lunch.
He was being questioned rather informally in a squad room by a beautiful Israeli. She seemed to be falling for his charms, if the way her annoying teammates had fallen silent was any indication. The man sitting directly behind him had quoted movies non-stop on the way here, while the other man wore an expression of official boredom.
“Are we done then?” he asked the woman. “Because I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight.”
She smiled dangerously and he wondered if he’d made a mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the men backing up slowly. Major mistake then.
An older man with gray hair wandered into the squad room, a baseball bat resting on his right shoulder. “This Irving?” he asked the woman.
At her nod, he continued. “You kill Rankin?” he demanded.
Irving glanced from the stony expression on his face to the baseball bat. Sheesh, did she work with her father or something? This guy was going to kill him for flirting with his daughter. Perhaps it was better to confess and get put in a cell away from this guy.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I need a lawyer.”
~*~*~*~
Dec 18
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "As You Like It", Act 1 scene 2
Abby Scuito had had a long day.
Longer than usual, which was saying something for her. She regularly worked sixteen hour days, surviving on caffeine and the energy that never left her. She napped on her futon whenever she had a spare half an hour waiting for results. And so a long day for her was an exceptionally long day for anyone else.
It had all been Major Mass Spec’s fault. One too many grotty drug samples had clogged up a column. It happened every month or so, and she was sort of used to it. But this had happened at one of those moments she needed everything to go right. Agent Wofford had seized a major haul of cocaine, and it was Abby’s job to prove the white powder was actually cocaine, the purity of the sample, and the probable provenance.
All of which she needed Major Mass Spec for.
Not to mention all the other analyses she needed to run, the standard analyses she did every day. Spending two hours unexpectedly changing a fiddly column on the Major was not a constructive use of her time.
While all her babies were working for once, she reached over to her desk and tugged Bert to her. He would cheer her up. He would remind her how loved she was.
~*~*~*~
Dec 19
People are usually more convinced by reasons they discovered themselves than by those found by others.
Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)
Ziva David was acutely aware that she had a soft spot for one Tony DiNozzo. It was the only reason she could think of as to why she had not yet chopped him into little pieces and disposed of his body.
He was beyond annoying. He took pleasure in winding her up every single day of the week, every week of the year. He poked and prodded her, played with her possessions (she did not mind her possessions, but she felt he needed to learn boundaries), pulled pranks on her, blamed his lack of results to Gibbs on her, constantly quoted movies, and was generally a smart-mouthed, pain in her backside.
Anyone else would be dead by now. She would have killed them long ago. So why was Tony still alive? She must have a soft spot for him. But why?
Was it because he was her friend? Despite his usual antics in front of witnesses, he looked out for her. He knew when she was hurting inside and he provided comfort in whatever way his damaged soul could. He knew what was necessary to cheer her up. He threatened to join her in killing whoever she wished to kill.
Was it because he made her laugh? His sense of humor was very different to hers, but he could put a smile on her face most of the time with almost no effort. Was it because, while he pushed her most of the time, he never pushed her too far? He knew her limits without her ever having to voice them.
She did not know. But she knew if she observed his actions for longer, she might be able to figure it out.
~*~*~*~
Dec 20
Remember that nobody will ever get ahead of you as long as he is kicking you in the seat of the pants.
Walter Winchell (1897 - 1972)
Timothy McGee felt it was his role to be constantly teased by Tony. As the Probie, he was there to be picked on and to have various silly little pranks pulled on him.
On one level, it annoyed him no end. He wanted to be left alone so he could get on with his work. He wanted Tony to stop treating him as an intruder and start treating him as one of the team. He wanted Tony to focus his energy on Ziva, who would happily kill or maim him if he went too far. Ziva had happily accepted Tim into their odd family; why could Tony not do the same?
But he was secretly okay with Tony acting the fool with him. It gave him the chance to keep learning. It gave him the opportunity to keep ahead of Tony without the other man realizing it. Tony was far too distracted by dreaming up his next antic or plotting how to get his latest girl or trying to avoid work to realize what Tim was doing. Tim worked hard, kept his head down as best he could, and got on with his job.
Perhaps Tony’s teasing was his way of welcoming him to the family. After all, the other man still treated Ziva in the same way, even if he was happy to expend most of his energy on Tim.
But it didn’t matter to Tim. Tony did not do it maliciously, and that was all that mattered to him.
~*~*~*~
Dec 21
America is the only nation in history which miraculously has gone directly from barbarism to degeneration without the usual interval of civilization.
Georges Clemenceau (1841 - 1929)
Jennifer Shepard had very few breaks in her long day. Most of it was scheduled for her. Meetings in her office, meetings in MTAC, meetings about missions, meetings with team leaders, paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork… The very few gaps in her calendar tended to be filled rapidly with everything else running late.
When she had very brief breaks, she liked to spend them on the catwalk above the squad room. A few minutes watching various teams interact not only made her smile and remember previous times when she had been in their relatively carefree position, but also warned her about any upcoming problems between team members. She preferred a heads-up before it all went to hell and she was called in.
Today she was observing Agent Gibbs’ team. Or rather two particular members of Agent Gibbs’ team. Agent DiNozzo had stolen Agent McGee’s favorite pen. Agent McGee had protested verbally. Agent DiNozzo had stuck his tongue out in an unprofessional manner. Agent McGee had again protested verbally and then threatened to call Agent Gibbs back from his caffeine supplier and inform him of what was going on. Agent DiNozzo had paled, called him a snitch, and stolen Agent McGee’s second favorite pen.
Which had led to the current fight in the middle of the squad room. Jenny was secretly siding with McGee, while wondering if, as the only other person in the squad room, she was required to go down there and break the fight up.
Gibbs solved the problem for her by storming back into the squad room, coffee cup attached to his hand, and bellowing for his two agents to separate. As the two men sheepishly returned to their respective desks, Gibbs glanced right up and her and gave her a quick grin.
She returned it before heading back to her office. She was going to be treated to him tearing his agents a new one while she continued her paperwork.
~*~*~*~
Dec 22
Good ideas alter the power balance in relationships, that is why good ideas are always initially resisted. Good ideas come with a heavy burden. Which is why so few people have them. So few people can handle it.
Hugh Macleod, How To Be Creative: 1 Ignore Everybody, 08-22-04
Tony DiNozzo wandered into Abby’s lab mainly because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. Gibbs was still in a foul mood over a fight from the day before that he had been in no way responsible for, and their current case was going nowhere fast. Ducky had several very stinky bodies down in Autopsy, and only Abby would greet him with a smile and just the scent of gunpowder.
“Hey, Abs,” he greeted her, catching sight of her injecting something into one of her babies and deciding to give her a moment. “You’d never guess what happened last night.”
“At the NCIS Christmas party?” she giggled. “I have a lot of gossip.”
“After the party,” he corrected her. “We need to exchange gossip later. Did Fornell gatecrash?”
“Ziva invited him,” Abby informed him. “So what happened after? Did you and Ziva hook up?”
“No!” he protested. “I drove home alone. But I got stopped by the cops and breathalyzed.”
“How much had you drunk?” Abby demanded.
“I was under the limit,” he argued. “But for one moment I was scared I was going to fail.”
Abby tutted, finishing whatever she had been doing with her machine and turning around to glare at him with her hands on her hips. “Have I not taught you anything?”
“Huh?”
“There are ways to beat the test.”
“Like sucking a copper coin?”
She stared at him. “Why would that work?”
He shrugged. “Urban legend then.”
The Goth began to smile. “Come with me and let me teach you a few tricks. But don’t drive drunk. That would be stupid.”
He chuckled as he followed her into her office. Abby knew everything.
Rating: K
Dec 16
You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.
George Burns (1896 - 1996)
Ducky wobbled dangerously before stabilizing himself. Then he began to smile. This had been a good idea.
Except for the risk of various injuries. He was most concerned about twists, sprains and breaks. Any of those would put him and Jethro out of action for weeks.
He did not want to inquire as to where Jethro had appropriated two pairs of roller-skates, especially not two pairs that were suitable for men and fit them both. His were black with a red lightning bolt along the outer side, while Jethro’s were dark blue. Jethro had suggested wearing a variety of pads and a helmet, but Ducky had argued against it.
No sense drawing more attention to two elderly men roller-skating through DC.
They skated through Rock Creek Park, both hoping they would not run into Jethro’s team. Abby would understand, but the team would not. Far better not to tell them what the two friends got up to in their spare time.
The biting wind chilled Ducky, but the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky for once. If the frozen wind died down, it would be a nice, albeit cool, day. The forecast was for snow in the next few days, and then their outdoor activities would have to stop. At least it would give them an opportunity to spend more time on their yoga.
They continued their leisurely skating, exchanging grins every now and then. This had definitely been a good idea.
~*~*~*~
Dec 17
Force overcome by force.
(Vi Victa Vis)
Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)
Philip Irving didn’t think an agency he’d never heard of would ever be able to prove he’d killed that marine the other night. What the hell was NCIS anyway? If he’d never heard of it, there was a good bet it was rubbish and he would be out of here by lunch.
He was being questioned rather informally in a squad room by a beautiful Israeli. She seemed to be falling for his charms, if the way her annoying teammates had fallen silent was any indication. The man sitting directly behind him had quoted movies non-stop on the way here, while the other man wore an expression of official boredom.
“Are we done then?” he asked the woman. “Because I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight.”
She smiled dangerously and he wondered if he’d made a mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the men backing up slowly. Major mistake then.
An older man with gray hair wandered into the squad room, a baseball bat resting on his right shoulder. “This Irving?” he asked the woman.
At her nod, he continued. “You kill Rankin?” he demanded.
Irving glanced from the stony expression on his face to the baseball bat. Sheesh, did she work with her father or something? This guy was going to kill him for flirting with his daughter. Perhaps it was better to confess and get put in a cell away from this guy.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I need a lawyer.”
~*~*~*~
Dec 18
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "As You Like It", Act 1 scene 2
Abby Scuito had had a long day.
Longer than usual, which was saying something for her. She regularly worked sixteen hour days, surviving on caffeine and the energy that never left her. She napped on her futon whenever she had a spare half an hour waiting for results. And so a long day for her was an exceptionally long day for anyone else.
It had all been Major Mass Spec’s fault. One too many grotty drug samples had clogged up a column. It happened every month or so, and she was sort of used to it. But this had happened at one of those moments she needed everything to go right. Agent Wofford had seized a major haul of cocaine, and it was Abby’s job to prove the white powder was actually cocaine, the purity of the sample, and the probable provenance.
All of which she needed Major Mass Spec for.
Not to mention all the other analyses she needed to run, the standard analyses she did every day. Spending two hours unexpectedly changing a fiddly column on the Major was not a constructive use of her time.
While all her babies were working for once, she reached over to her desk and tugged Bert to her. He would cheer her up. He would remind her how loved she was.
~*~*~*~
Dec 19
People are usually more convinced by reasons they discovered themselves than by those found by others.
Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)
Ziva David was acutely aware that she had a soft spot for one Tony DiNozzo. It was the only reason she could think of as to why she had not yet chopped him into little pieces and disposed of his body.
He was beyond annoying. He took pleasure in winding her up every single day of the week, every week of the year. He poked and prodded her, played with her possessions (she did not mind her possessions, but she felt he needed to learn boundaries), pulled pranks on her, blamed his lack of results to Gibbs on her, constantly quoted movies, and was generally a smart-mouthed, pain in her backside.
Anyone else would be dead by now. She would have killed them long ago. So why was Tony still alive? She must have a soft spot for him. But why?
Was it because he was her friend? Despite his usual antics in front of witnesses, he looked out for her. He knew when she was hurting inside and he provided comfort in whatever way his damaged soul could. He knew what was necessary to cheer her up. He threatened to join her in killing whoever she wished to kill.
Was it because he made her laugh? His sense of humor was very different to hers, but he could put a smile on her face most of the time with almost no effort. Was it because, while he pushed her most of the time, he never pushed her too far? He knew her limits without her ever having to voice them.
She did not know. But she knew if she observed his actions for longer, she might be able to figure it out.
~*~*~*~
Dec 20
Remember that nobody will ever get ahead of you as long as he is kicking you in the seat of the pants.
Walter Winchell (1897 - 1972)
Timothy McGee felt it was his role to be constantly teased by Tony. As the Probie, he was there to be picked on and to have various silly little pranks pulled on him.
On one level, it annoyed him no end. He wanted to be left alone so he could get on with his work. He wanted Tony to stop treating him as an intruder and start treating him as one of the team. He wanted Tony to focus his energy on Ziva, who would happily kill or maim him if he went too far. Ziva had happily accepted Tim into their odd family; why could Tony not do the same?
But he was secretly okay with Tony acting the fool with him. It gave him the chance to keep learning. It gave him the opportunity to keep ahead of Tony without the other man realizing it. Tony was far too distracted by dreaming up his next antic or plotting how to get his latest girl or trying to avoid work to realize what Tim was doing. Tim worked hard, kept his head down as best he could, and got on with his job.
Perhaps Tony’s teasing was his way of welcoming him to the family. After all, the other man still treated Ziva in the same way, even if he was happy to expend most of his energy on Tim.
But it didn’t matter to Tim. Tony did not do it maliciously, and that was all that mattered to him.
~*~*~*~
Dec 21
America is the only nation in history which miraculously has gone directly from barbarism to degeneration without the usual interval of civilization.
Georges Clemenceau (1841 - 1929)
Jennifer Shepard had very few breaks in her long day. Most of it was scheduled for her. Meetings in her office, meetings in MTAC, meetings about missions, meetings with team leaders, paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork… The very few gaps in her calendar tended to be filled rapidly with everything else running late.
When she had very brief breaks, she liked to spend them on the catwalk above the squad room. A few minutes watching various teams interact not only made her smile and remember previous times when she had been in their relatively carefree position, but also warned her about any upcoming problems between team members. She preferred a heads-up before it all went to hell and she was called in.
Today she was observing Agent Gibbs’ team. Or rather two particular members of Agent Gibbs’ team. Agent DiNozzo had stolen Agent McGee’s favorite pen. Agent McGee had protested verbally. Agent DiNozzo had stuck his tongue out in an unprofessional manner. Agent McGee had again protested verbally and then threatened to call Agent Gibbs back from his caffeine supplier and inform him of what was going on. Agent DiNozzo had paled, called him a snitch, and stolen Agent McGee’s second favorite pen.
Which had led to the current fight in the middle of the squad room. Jenny was secretly siding with McGee, while wondering if, as the only other person in the squad room, she was required to go down there and break the fight up.
Gibbs solved the problem for her by storming back into the squad room, coffee cup attached to his hand, and bellowing for his two agents to separate. As the two men sheepishly returned to their respective desks, Gibbs glanced right up and her and gave her a quick grin.
She returned it before heading back to her office. She was going to be treated to him tearing his agents a new one while she continued her paperwork.
~*~*~*~
Dec 22
Good ideas alter the power balance in relationships, that is why good ideas are always initially resisted. Good ideas come with a heavy burden. Which is why so few people have them. So few people can handle it.
Hugh Macleod, How To Be Creative: 1 Ignore Everybody, 08-22-04
Tony DiNozzo wandered into Abby’s lab mainly because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. Gibbs was still in a foul mood over a fight from the day before that he had been in no way responsible for, and their current case was going nowhere fast. Ducky had several very stinky bodies down in Autopsy, and only Abby would greet him with a smile and just the scent of gunpowder.
“Hey, Abs,” he greeted her, catching sight of her injecting something into one of her babies and deciding to give her a moment. “You’d never guess what happened last night.”
“At the NCIS Christmas party?” she giggled. “I have a lot of gossip.”
“After the party,” he corrected her. “We need to exchange gossip later. Did Fornell gatecrash?”
“Ziva invited him,” Abby informed him. “So what happened after? Did you and Ziva hook up?”
“No!” he protested. “I drove home alone. But I got stopped by the cops and breathalyzed.”
“How much had you drunk?” Abby demanded.
“I was under the limit,” he argued. “But for one moment I was scared I was going to fail.”
Abby tutted, finishing whatever she had been doing with her machine and turning around to glare at him with her hands on her hips. “Have I not taught you anything?”
“Huh?”
“There are ways to beat the test.”
“Like sucking a copper coin?”
She stared at him. “Why would that work?”
He shrugged. “Urban legend then.”
The Goth began to smile. “Come with me and let me teach you a few tricks. But don’t drive drunk. That would be stupid.”
He chuckled as he followed her into her office. Abby knew everything.