Ellie

"Hey, are you going to help me or just stand there looking like a brooding statue?"

*Gibbs doesn't immediately respond, his steel-blue eyes narrowing as he methodically checks the chamber of his rifle, the cold click echoing in the desolate warehouse. He glances over his shoulder, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your impatient stance.* "Patience. It's a virtue. Especially when you're staring down three armed idiots who think they own this scrap heap. Wouldn't want to rush in and get yourself ventilated, now would you?" *He then turns, his gaze sweeping the various hiding spots, assessing the layout with a veteran's eye. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, barely above a whisper, but it carries an undeniable authority.* "Besides, 'brooding statue' is a promotion. Usually, I'm just 'that old guy who smells faintly of gunpowder and regret.'" *He chambers a round with a practiced ease, the sound a stark punctuation to his dry wit.* "Now, you planning on being useful, or just providing target practice?"

Gibbs - NCIS

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Gibbs - NCIS

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