Tim went home in thoughtful mood on the day he learned of his new responsibilities. He was trying to remember if kicking down doors had been covered at FLETC; he could recall being taught the circumstances under which it was acceptable to force an entry but hit a blank when it came to the mechanics of actually doing it. In his mind he began to compose a strong letter to the FLETC trainers pointing out the gaps in their curriculum.

Somehow Tim had never got round to having to kick doors down once he had joined Team Gibbs. Gibbs always looked to Tony to break them down in the same way as he looked to McGee to break down firewalls. Tony had always battered doors down with such finesse that it seemed absurd for anyone else to even try. Just as Gibbs was the coffee drinking expert in the team, so Tony was the demolition expert.

Tim ate a Nutter Butter meditatively but no inspiration came. He seemed to remember that fish was good brain food so in desperation he made himself a tuna salad with fish sticks. As he lay awake with indigestion that night, he finally came up with a solution to his dilemma.

Next day

Gibbs looked up a bit suspiciously as McGee arrived the next morning clutching a bundle of papers. In his experience McGee and research did not always yield good results.

"What you got there, McBundle?" asked Tony as he arrived soon afterwards.

"Boss," said Tim excitedly, "I've been doing some thinking about our door breaking problem …"

"We got a problem?" asked Gibbs dampeningly.

"Of course not, Boss. I meant to say opportunity."

Tony grinned in a rather predatory way and drew close, not wanting to miss a moment of what was about to happen.

"So, Boss, I've been looking into the use of battering rams. I did some research and lots of federal agencies use them. It seems a lot safer than using Tony's leg."

Gibbs gazed emotionlessly at McGee but said nothing.

"So, I'll go ahead and order one," said McGee, relieved that his suggestion had gone so well. He began to tap on his keyboard.

"DiNozzo," said Gibbs, jerking his head slightly in McGee's direction.

"McGee," said Tony, "we've already got one."

"We have?" said Tim surprised, "I won't order another one then. Unless you think it would be good to have two?"

"McGee," said Tony patiently, "why do you think we don't use it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, maybe because it weighs nearly 40 pounds. Do you want to carry it round all the time on the off chance we'll need it?" said Tony.

"But we could go back to the van and collect it if we need to break a door down," suggested Tim.

Gibbs joined in, "McGee, how often have we known that we need to break a door down in advance? And how often have we then had time to go back and collect something from the van?"

"Er, not very often?" offered Tim.

"No, not very often," agreed Gibbs.

"There's a more lightweight one on the market," said Tim with diminishing hope, "you screw it together before you use it. We could carry that one around."

"And stand in front of the door putting it together?" asked Tony, "You don't think there's a danger that the bad guys might go out the back door while we'll looking for the instructions?"

"But …" said Tim forlornly.

"McGee," said Gibbs with surprising kindness, "if we know in advance that we're going to need to break a door down we'll take our battering ram with us. But if we don't – and we won't – we'll do it the old fashioned way."

"OK, Boss," said McGee in a disappointed voice, "but shall I order another one anyway?"

Gibbs just looked at McGee over the top of his coffee cup as he took a sip.

"Of course not, that would be a waste of scarce government resources," said McGee dropping his pile of battering ram brochures into the bin.

"Old fashioned police work wins again," said Tony softly, punching the air as he went back to his desk.

Next day +1

Gibbs and Tony had already been at their desks for an hour by the time McGee arrived the next day; very slowly. His co-workers looked as he inched his way to his desk.

"What's up, McTardy?" asked Tony, "those virtual monstrous foes fight back too much last night?"

"No-oo-oh," said Tim, lowering himself painfully into his chair.

"Then spill, Tim. You look like an eighty year old crab."

"Have you ever seen an eighty year old crab, Anthony?" asked Ducky who always seemed to sense a potential medical crisis in the offing, "I did once but it was completely dehydrated and shrivelled and I don't think would serve as an accurate description of Special Agent McGee."

Tony opened his mouth to begin arguing the case for his description but Gibbs got there first,

"You all right, Tim?"

"I'm a bit stiff," admitted McGee.

"A bit?" scoffed Tony, "didn't anyone ever tell you it's wrong to lie, McFibber?"

"McGee," said Gibbs, beginning to feel a McGee/DiNozzo induced headache coming on, "what's wrong?"

"I … well, I've taken up a new sport and it's taking a while to adjust to it," admitted Tim.

"Well done, Tim," said Tony in an impressed voice, "that's very un-McGeeish of you, but I'm proud of you. So what sport?"

"Kick boxing," said McGee.

"Kick boxing?" came three voices simultaneously.

"I thought it would help strengthen my legs for, well, you know, for kicking down doors," said McGee with a touch of defiance.

"And did it help?" asked Gibbs with a slight twitch of his lips.

"Not really," moaned McGee.

"Come along, Timothy," said Ducky briskly, "let's go down to Autopsy so I can ascertain whether you have done any lasting damage. You may have a fracture of the proximal tibia or a meniscal tear or a …" he continued with growing enthusiasm as he led a limping Tim out of the squad room.

"Have fun, McLongJohnSilver," said Tony encouragingly.

"DiNozzo," said Gibbs commandingly.

"Yes, Boss. On it, Boss. I'll sort it," said Tony.

Next day +2

Ducky's theories about the reasons for Tim's stiffness turned out to be too gloomy and his arrival at work the next day was much less painful to watch.

"Back to virtual fighting last night?" asked Tony.

McGee grimaced and nodded. He seemed to come to a decision, "Tony, can you help me? With the door knocking down thing?"

Tony looked pleased, and relieved, "Of course, McStudent. I will be happy to share my experience."

"It's not that I need," said Tim.

"It's not?" said a puzzled Tony.

"No, it's your phys-ed degree knowledge I need."

"Wow!" said Tony, "I didn't think those words would ever come out of your mouth. Go on then."

"I was looking up kicking down doors on the internet last night," said Tim.

"Of course you were," said Tony under his breath.

"Yes, there's a wikiHow question on it."

Tony was momentarily lost for words so Tim was able to continue, "and it all made sense except it seems I have to work out which is my dominant leg."

"Why?"

"So that I stand on it. Or not, I can't remember which but I think I need to know."

"And why do you think I'll know?" asked Tony.

"Because it's something athletes need to know," said Tim.

"OK," said Tony, frantically trying to come up with an answer; this was the first time his degree threatened to be useful and he really wanted to impress McGee. He closed his eyes and thought. After a few moments a picture of walking up to a high jump bar at boarding school came back to him. The teacher had been trying to work out which leg the pupils would need to take off on. Tony knew the answer to Tim's question.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Tim obeyed and stood, poised for some abstruse phys-ed investigation.

"Step forward," ordered Tony, watching closely. Tim stepped forward. "OK, go back," said Tony. Tim stepped back. "Forward," said Tony. Tim did so and Tony made an annotation on his note pad. He made Tim do this another ten or so times and then made his announcement,

"You're ambidextrous – or whatever the equivalent word is for feet."

"What?" said Tim, "you're making that up."

"No, we did this twelve times. You set off on your right foot six times and your left foot six times. That means you favour each foot equally. You don't have a dominant leg."

Tim sat back down defeated. "Then I'll never be able to kick a door down," he said sadly.

"No, no, no!" said Tony encouragingly, "this is a good thing. You'll be able to kick a door down with either foot. Think how useful that will be if there's not much room?"

"Hey," said McGee brightly, "I may be better at it than you!"

"I wouldn't go that far," said Tony stiffly, "I have style and a certain je ne sais quoi. I just have natural ability, which clearly you do not."

"We'll see," muttered Tim, "thanks, Tony."

Next day +3

Tim announced the next day that he had studied the wikiHow site and was now confident he could kick a door down if required. Gibbs brightened, marginally.

'Luck' was with McGee and they got called out to a hit on an arrest warrant put out by their co-workers in Los Angeles. The suspect had been spotted in a rundown house in Alexandria. They went by car rather than in the van which meant that the battering ram was left behind. Gibbs went round the back and positioned Tony and McGee at the front door; he felt he might intimidate Tim too much if he stayed with him.

Gibbs waited for a couple of minutes and then hissed into his earwig, "What's going on, DiNozzo? Get on it!"

The only answer he got was the sound of a door being smashed open. He smiled briefly and then braced himself to deal with any occupants deciding to come out the back door. It turned out that the house was empty so there was nobody to apprehend but, thought Gibbs, it wasn't a waste of time as McGee had come up trumps. He went to survey the door; it wasn't as good as Tony's work, of course, but not bad for a first effort. Tim and Tony joined him.

"Good work, McGee," said Gibbs being unusually effusive, "well done."

"Er, Boss," said Tim reluctantly, "it wasn't me. I sort of froze. I was trying to work out the angles, and which leg to use and …"

"And the next ice age was about to begin, so I thought I'd better lend a hand, or rather a foot," admitted Tony, "but I used my other leg," he said defensively, "my non-dominant leg. I think. Which is why it's not as neat as usual."

Gibbs gave them both a head slap.

"Hey, why did I get one?" protested Tony.

"Because Ducky told you not to break down doors," said Gibbs.

"Right, Boss, Thank you, Boss."

McGee had the sense not to ask why he had got one.

"Fix this," said Gibbs, stalking back to the car.

"The door?" asked McGee.

"No, McGee, not the door," said Tony wearily, "come on, you and I need to have a chat."

Next day +4

The next day, overriding Tim's protests, Tony took him to an architectural salvage yard in Baltimore where he knew the owner.

"Why are we here?" asked Tim.

"We're going to look at doors," said Tony, "so you get to know the weak spots and where it would be best to kick."

Tony turned out to be surprisingly knowledgeable about different types of door locks, panels and hinges and Tim began to absorb some awareness of what might be an easy door to kick down and which might need another approach. After an hour or so, Tony drove them to a nearby shooting range.

"Why here?" said Tim, "wikiHow doesn't recommend shooting door locks off."

"Forget wikiHow," said Tony, "you're going to get some more hands on experience. This place has the sort of range where dummies pop out from behind doors. I've had a word with Bob the owner. He hasn't got anyone in for an hour or so, so he said we could knock some of the doors open."

"Wow, thanks, Tony," said McGee.

Tony and Tim walked up to the line of doors. Tim looked at the first one, spent a few moments deciding what to do and then kicked at the door which obligingly swung open. Tony patted Tim on the back,

"Well done, McJamesBond!"

They carried on down the row with Tim growing in confidence. They reached the last one and Tim, deciding which leg to use, made ready to kick. Tony held him back,

"McGee, remember what I told you. Look before you kick."

McGee stared hard at the door but couldn't see anything different, if anything it looked a little more flimsy than the others. Again, he made to lunge and again Tony restrained him.

"Are you sure, McGee?"

McGee nodded and Tony sighed. Tim thought he heard him mutter something about poison ivy but thought he must have misheard; he picked a leg and kicked out. The door didn't move and shock reverberated up Tim's leg. He yelled in pain. Tony grimaced in sympathy and reached forward to open the door – which opened towards them.

"Tried to tell you, Tim," he said, "you need to make sure the door opens inwards!"

Tim hobbled back to the car in silence.

Next day +10

Agent Balboa had started a book on when McGee would kick his first door in. The MCRT were forbidden to join in, which saved Tony from a moral dilemma.

McGee was being overwhelmed with helpful hints but none of them seemed to help. He just wasn't naturally a violent person so being invited to imagine the door as someone he hated didn't work for him – his preferred solution to not liking someone was to talk it through with them. Unfortunately, most doors didn't succumb to reasoned argument.

Abby had suggested hypnotism as a way to overcome this psychological barrier. Ducky had hypothesized that there was some underlying trauma which was the problem and offered counselling. Gibbs glared. Tony had no more suggestions for the moment and tended to look at him rather pityingly. Tim was getting more and more confused. Gibbs had started bringing the portable battering ram in the car as well in the van.

Team Gibbs plus Ducky and Jimmy were called to a crime scene on a small farm in Virginia. Abby was back in her lab worrying over Tim. She decided to call Tony.

"Hey, Abs, what can I do for you?" answered Tony.

"Hi, Tony. I just wondered if you'd had to break down any doors out there?"

"You mean did McTremulous?"

"Don't be mean, Tony," wailed Abby.

"I've done the sympathetic Tony bit," protested Tony, "I'm just going to let nature take its course. Tim will do it when he's ready. I just hope he does it before Gibbs explodes."

"What you doing now?" asked Abby trying to take her mind off the troubles of Tim.

"I'm in a barn, looking for physical evidence. I think something died here, the smell's horrible."

"That's terrible," said Abby, "bye."

Tony looked surprised at the abrupt ending to the call but shrugged, one never knew with Abby.

Meanwhile, back in her lab, Abby had an intent look on her face as she tried to work something out. She made a decision and called Jimmy.

"Jimmy," she said, "don't let anyone know it's me."

"It's you what?" asked Palmer.

"It's me calling you," said Abby.

"Why not?"

"Never mind, Jimmy. Now listen. Is Tony in the barn?"

"Yes, how did you know that, Ab … absolutely?"

"Why did you say absolutely?" asked Abby.

"Because you told me not to let anyone know I was talking to you, Ab-solutely."

"Oh, very good, Jimmy," approved Abby.

"So how did you know Tony was in the barn?"

"He told me."

"So why did you ask me as well? Is it that important?"

"Yes! I thought of a way to help Timmy!"

"You're not in the pool, are you?" asked Jimmy, "because influencing the outcome would be unethical."

"No, of course not," said Abby crossing her fingers. "Now listen, do you want to help Tim or not?"

"OK," said Jimmy, "what do you want me to do?"

"Shut the door to the barn that Tony's in."

"That's all?" said Jimmy.

"That's all," confirmed Abby.

"Well, I guess I can do that. You won't tell Dr Mallard, will you? He doesn't really like me acting on my own initiative."

"It's not your initiative, Jimmy, it's mine," reasoned Abby.

"Well, actually," said Jimmy, "he doesn't like me acting on anyone's initiative except his."

"JIMMY, just do it!"

"All right, I'm doing it."

Jimmy crept up to the barn, closed the door quietly and let Abby know. Abby rubbed her hands in glee. Next she called Gibbs.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs! Tony just called me! He's stuck in the barn and there's a terrible smell in there. I think he's been overcome with fumes. You've got to save him!"

At the farm, Gibbs swung into action.

"McGee, Tony's stuck in the barn. Come on! We've got to get him out!"

Tim and Gibbs rushed to the barn shouting, "Tony, Tony!" and, without hesitation, Tim got ready to kick the door down.

NCISNCIS

"I heard Tim and the Boss shouting my name. They sounded really worried. So I rushed to the door, swung it open and, well, you know the rest," Tony said to Ducky as they looked at Gibbs and Tim sitting at the door of the van. They were each holding an ice pack to their faces.

"What on earth were they doing?" asked Ducky.

"And who closed the door to the barn?" asked Tony, "I deliberately left it open because of the smell."

A nervous cough/giggle came from Palmer's direction.

"You have something to say, Mr Palmer?" asked Ducky magisterially.

"It wasn't my fault, Dr Mallard," said Jimmy defensively, "well, I guess it was, but I didn't realise. I didn't know what would happen."

"Tell me what you did, Mr Palmer," said Ducky a little more gently, "and we will apportion blame later."

"Abby told me to shut the door to the barn," confessed Jimmy.

"Why?" asked Tony.

"I don't know. She said it would help Tim."

"Abby called me. Said DiNozzo was in trouble in the barn," said Gibbs from behind his icepack.

"So you rushed to the rescue," concluded Ducky.

"That's kinda touching," said Tony. He was met by a Gibbs-glare that was not much diminished by being out of just one eye.

"Ahh," said Ducky, "I think Miss Scuito was hoping that the heat of the battle would overcome Timothy's inhibitions and he would smash the door down."

"And I would have done," said Tim from behind his icepack, "until Tony opened the door in our faces!"

"Hey," said Tony, "I told you to check whether the door opened inwards or outwards."

"Come on," growled Gibbs, "there's nothing here. You're driving, DiNozzo!"

"Thank God," said Tony, "driving with a one-eyed pissed off Gibbs is not on my bucket list!"

Next day +15

Abby was still grounded; that meant that nobody was allowed to bring her a CafPow or other caffeinated drink. The sentence would last until Gibbs' black eye had completely faded.

Palmer's punishment was done. He had cleaned Autopsy's floor with a toothbrush, twice.

Team Gibbs was called out again. The suspect from the earlier BOLO had been spotted again, this time in Virginia. They arrived at the house in a quiet street. Gibbs sent Tony round the back and then stood with McGee at the front door.

McGee looked at the door (and the hinges). He raised his leg. He hesitated as he thought what to do.

"MCGEE!" barked Gibbs.

McGee jumped in alarm and as he did so, he fell forward and his momentum sent the leg crashing into the perfect place to smash the door down.

"At last," breathed Gibbs, as he rushed through the open space.

Tony emerged a few moments later. He looked at the mangled remains of the door. He looked at McGee who was standing looking at the wreckage in stunned surprise.

"Well done, McStrongman" he said, "Well done."

Tim shrugged nonchalantly. Tony patted him on the shoulder and went back into the house. Tim watched him go and then clasped his leg in agony - but with a smile on his face.

AN – there really is a wiki-How question on how to kick doors down! Obviously I don't own them but I have returned them to their owners in nearly pristine condition.