In 'You are missing me, aren't you' I had a throwaway line that Tony had arranged for the team to adopt a penguin at London Zoo. Turned out not to be a throwaway after all! You don't need to have read that story for this one to make sense. Actually, 'make sense' is probably not the right prediction.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs felt a sense of contentment as he drove into the Navy Yard to begin his day's work. He had been away for three weeks and was only now realising how much he had missed the sights, sounds and smells of the NCIS site. It had been good to return to his little house but the real feeling of homecoming came as he passed through security.

"Agent Gibbs!" said Bill, "good to be back?"

Gibbs nodded. It had, of course, been his own fault. One too many late submissions of team appraisals. One too many too 'honest' assessments of a Directorial order. One too many undiplomatic responses to the SecNav. One too many … well, one too many of all the things which infuriated Vance. Gibbs was still surprised that the Director had followed through on his threats and made him attend three weeks of sensitivity and anger management training in Lincoln, Nebraska. The bonus had been that the course had been led by Rachel Cranston; the additional downside that Gibbs had been so far away from any ocean. But now, that was all over, and while Gibbs didn't think he'd learned anything from the curriculum, he had learned that it might be wise to brush up, or acquire, some diplomatic skills.

Looking at his watch, Gibbs realised he had got to work before he could expect DiNozzo or McGee to have arrived so he thought he'd drop in on Abby instead. He went to collect a CafPow, squashed his irritation that someone had dared to put the price up in his absence, and trod the familiar path to Abby's lab. As he got closer he noticed an increasingly strong smell of fish and that the floor seemed rather damp but he assumed the MCRT had had a case centring on the Docks area. Surprisingly, he couldn't hear any of Abby's music blasting through although he could hear an odd grating sort of sound.

Before he could make sense of the noise, he had an armful of Abby.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," she cried, "You're back! I missed you so much."

"Missed you too, Abs," admitted Gibbs, handing her the drink.

"Thank you," she said, "the others brought them to me as well but they didn't taste the same without you." She took a happy slurp.

Gibbs noticed that door to her inner office was closed and that there seemed to be a paddling pool by her desk.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Oh," said Abby, "that's Horace."

"Horace?"

"Yes, you know, Horace. You remember, when Tony went to England he got us a penguin."

"I thought that was just a formality. You know. We were just sponsoring a penguin." Even as he said it, Gibbs realised that he shouldn't have expected Abby not to make it more complicated.

"Huh," she said crossly, "I started watching Horace on the CCTV."

"Horace?" queried Gibbs, "when did we call him Horace?"

"Did you want to call him something different, Gibbs?" said Abby in surprise, "I guess we could change the name but it might be traumatic for him. And besides he looks like a Horace."

Gibbs wanted to ask her what she thought Horaces looked like but decided to keep on track, "so, you looked at him on the CCTV?"

"Yes, and he didn't look happy."

"How can you tell?"

"A mother always knows," said Abby firmly.

"So did you contact London Zoo?"

"As if they'd do anything," said Abby scornfully.

"They have animal welfare organizations over there, don't they?" asked Gibbs.

"It was urgent, Gibbs, I couldn't wait."

"So?" asked Gibbs with a feeling of dread.

"I flew to London Z … Timmy isn't around is he?"

"Haven't seen him," said Gibbs.

"That's OK then, I flew to London Zoo. And …"

"And?"

"And I liberated him."

"You did what?"

"I brought him back with me. He's living in my lab. No, don't get too close," she cried as Gibbs moved in the direction of the paddling pool, "he's a bit shy."

Many thoughts crossed Gibbs' mind and he chose one at random, "does the Director know about … Horace."

Abby smiled happily, "Oh yes. He's been real supportive."

"He has?"

"Yes, he knows how important it is appreciate the concerns of his employees. He says I've got to find a new home for Horace but he can stay here until I do. He's been very helpful in talking to Zoos here. It would be great if we could get him into a local one. Then perhaps he could come stay sometimes."

Gibbs shook his head. "I need coffee," he said.

"Yes, you should go," said Abby, and she gave him another hug. An outraged screeching came from the pool, "he's a bit jealous," said Abby, "but he'll be fine when he gets to know you. Come down later and you can help me feed him."

NCISNCIS

Gibbs went and collected another coffee and, fortified, went to the squad room where he was pleased to see that DiNozzo was seated, head down, at his desk.

"Boss!" said Tony delightedly, "How was Nebraska?"

Gibbs had walked past Tony's desk before something struck him as odd. He turned back and looked again. Tony was beaming at him. Or at least he thought he was. It was difficult to tell as his face was 'adorned' by a huge moustache.

"DiNozzo!" he said in outraged tones that Horace would have been proud of, "what's that on your face?"

"Hair," said Tony in a hurt tone.

Words momentarily failed Gibbs. DiNozzo had sometimes sported a scruffy beard during a long case but this moustache was a new departure.

"Why?" he managed at last.

"I missed you," said Tony.

"And that made you grow … that?"

Tony nodded.

"Why?"

"I remembered that other time you were away. You know, in Mexico. When you came back you were wearing a moustache. So I thought I'd do the same. It's very Z … McGee's not around, is he?"

"Haven't seen him," said Gibbs.

"I think it's very Zapata. It's like the one Marlon Brando had in 'Viva Zapata'. Or Burt Reynolds. I think it's great, I don't know why I didn't do it years ago." He stroked his upper lip lovingly.

"What does the Director think?" asked Gibbs.

"I think it's fine," said Leon who had managed to sneak up on Gibbs. Gibbs stared at him incredulously but noticed that the Director was smoothing his own upper lip. "I believe we should allow our agents to express their individuality. Makes them better, rounder people."

Gibbs almost felt dizzy but he rallied well, "you'll have to get new ID, DiNozzo if you're going to keep that … undergrowth," he said.

"Ah, well," said Tony, "I've got to do that anyway."

"Why?" asked Gibbs suspiciously.

"Well …" began Tony, "hey, here's McGee. He'll explain it to you."

NCISNCIS

Gibbs realised that coffee cups simply weren't big enough.

"So, McGee," he said, "tell me why DiNo …" Tony interrupted him

"Tell the Boss about the hypnotherapy," he said.

Gibbs frowned at Tony but, seeing that McGee looked a little pale, decided to let this rudeness slide for the moment.

"Uh, yes. Hi, Boss. It's nice, well it's good to have you back."

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgement.

"We had this case while you were gone. It was. It was …" he seemed unable to continue.

"This guy staged a protest against building work on a navy site," said Tony, "climbed to the top of a crane. A really high crane. McGee and I had to climb up to talk to him. Great view over Washington. But McGee had his eyes closed most of the time."

"Agent DiNo … Tony had to talk the protestor and McGee down," said the Director.

"And it was then that I realised," said Tim.

"Realised what?" asked Gibbs.

"That I had to do something about my fear of heights."

Gibbs nodded in approval.

"So I went to this hypnotherapist that Abby knows," continued McGee.

Gibbs' gut lurched a little. Abby's friends were not always reliable.

"And she said, as it was urgent, that she had this new method."

"Y-e-e-s?" said Gibbs.

"She would get rid of my fear of heights."

"Good," said Gibbs.

"By substituting another fear for it."

"What?"

"She'd stop me being scared of heights but I'd still be scared of something."

"OK. So what happened?"

"She gave me this list of things to choose from. You know, a new phobia."

"And what did you choose?"

"It seemed so harmless at the time," mused Tony, "you can't blame the Probie really."

"What did you choose?" repeated Gibbs.

"I chose to be afraid of the last letter in the alphabet," said Tim.

"Oh," said Gibbs in relief, "that doesn't sound so bad."

"But he didn't think it through," said Tony sadly.

"There aren't that Zs around, are there?" said Gibbs unwarily. He jumped as a wail sounded from McGee's desk just before he scrambled under his desk.

Tony and the Director appeared used to this and both peered under the desk and began to talk to McGee in gentle encouraging tones. Eventually their tactics worked and McGee emerged rather shakily from his hiding place.

"Turns out that there are more of … those letters than you might think," observed the Director.

"Including in my name," said Tony sadly.

"You mean?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes, Agent DiNo … Tony has had to change his name," said Vance.

"You did that?" asked Gibbs in wonder.

"It was either that or McGee would have had to leave," said Tony stoically, "So I stepped up. And on the bright side, it means that Senior can't call me Junior anymore."

The wave of mental dizziness hit Gibbs again but he rallied once more, "So what's the new name?" he asked.

"Well, I wanted to keep it close to my old name," said Tony, "so in the end I replaced the last letter of the alphabet in my name with G."

"Meet Special Agent DiNoggo," said Vance with a touch of pride.

"DiNoggo?" said Gibbs faintly.

"Of course," said Tony reflectively, "I may not have thought it through completely. 'Cos my name sounds like 'no go' now. The ladies are getting the wrong impression."

"And when Ducky says it with his Scottish brogue," said McGee who seemed to have recovered somewhat, "it sounds like 'dinna go'.

"But it's worth it," said Tony stoutly, "to keep what was left of the Probie's sanity. It's just taking longer than I'd expected to do all the paperwork."

"Enough," said Gibbs, "it's not April 1st, is it? You know, some April Fool's joke?"

"It's May 4th," said Tony blankly.

"May the fourth be with you," whispered Tim.

Gibbs glared at Tim suspiciously.

"It's a Star Wars joke," explained Tim, "you know 'may the force be with you'."

"Going to get coffee," announced Gibbs, "then I'm going to see Ducky."

NCISNCIS

Holding his fourth coffee of the day, Gibbs entered Autopsy.

"Ah, Jethro. How delightful to see you once more. How was Nebraska? And how was the lovely Dr Kate's Sister?"

"Fine," said Gibbs, "Duck, I wanted to ask you …"

"One moment, Jethro, if you please. I am trying to complete some verse. I'm not sure I have it quite right yet. Actually, why don't you give me your opinion?"

"OK," said Gibbs warily.

"Timothy is not on his way down here, is he?" asked Ducky.

"Not that I know of," said Gibbs.

"Then all is well. My verse contains some of the 'forbidden' letter. Have you perchance seen Timothy's reaction?"

"Yes," said Gibbs grimly.

"Ah," said Ducky, "then you will understand my caution. Now, if 'the coast is clear' … here goes,

'The British see Zee and say Zed

The Americans see Zed and say Zee'

"What do you think, Jethro?"

The now familiar feeling of bafflement washed over Gibbs once more, "I don't know what to say, Duck," he said honestly.

The doctor didn't seem surprised, "I have become most interested in the 'last letter of the alphabet' since Timothy acquired his newest phobia. Phobia of the letter Z," he lowered his voice cautiously, "does not appear in any of the medical dictionaries. Mr Palmer and I are thinking on writing a paper on the subject."

"Dr Mallard," said Jimmy entering Autopsy, "I have found about fifteen medical conditions that begin with Z. I think there is room for adding Agent McGee's phobia."

"That is good work, Mr Palmer," said Ducky, "although I am beginning to wonder if 'phobia' is the right term."

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I wonder if it doesn't equate more to a mania than a phobia. An obsession, if you will."

"Zmania rather than Zphobia?" said Jimmy.

"Indeed. Although I wonder if we need to find a different word for whatever we determine the condition to be," said Ducky.

"Why?" asked Jimmy.

"We need a universal term, Mr Palmer and at the moment we are failing in that regard. Suppose we settle on it being a phobia. In the United Kingdom it would be Zedphobia and in the United States Zeephobia."

"I see what you mean, Doctor," agreed Jimmy, "perhaps we could use '26' instead. You know, since Z is the 26th letter of the alphabet."

"What a splendid idea, Mr Palmer," said Ducky in delight, "the Latin for 26 is Viginti sex. Perhaps it could be vigintisexphobia."

"Or the Roman numerals for 26," suggested Jimmy, "XXVIphobia. But it's a bit tricky to say. Oh, how about exviphobia … or exvimania?"

"Hmmm," said Ducky, "or perhaps, since Timothy is the first known person to have this affliction we should use his name in the disease. … Timphobia? McGeeamania? McGemcitymania?"

"Going for coffee," announced Gibbs but nobody heard him and he slipped away leaving Ducky and Jimmy to their discussions.

NCISNCIS

"Dr Cranston."

"Rachel. It's Gibbs."

"Jethro, how's the first day back at work going?"

"Not gonna lie, it's a bit tricky. You said to call if I needed to. Well, my whole team plus the Director seem to have gone nuts."

"Jethro, you know how we talked about being more tolerant."

"Yeah, I know but …"

"And you know that the Director said that one more incident of … well, you being Gibbs … and he'll send you on the four week course."

"But …"

"And that one has the fluffy pillows, trust exercises, making cupcakes and …"

"What?"

"The vegan diet."

"OK," said Gibbs, gritting his teeth, "just talk me through that 'counting to ten exercise' again, will you?"

NCISNCIS

Sometime later, Gibbs, with his sixth coffee of the day, returned to the squad room.

"Where are my team?" he asked.

The other teams kept their heads down but, at that moment, the elevator dinged and Palmer walked out.

"Palmer," said Gibbs, "where's my team?"

"Oh. Gosh," said Jimmy looking around nervously when he realised he was on his own with Gibbs, "um. Um. I think they're down in the motor pool."

"Why?"

"Um. Well. I think they're talking about repainting the truck."

"Why?"

"Oh. Oh, well, I think the Director said something about a mission in Africa."

"Why?"

"I don't know. The Director doesn't really talk to me about cases. In fact he doesn't really talk to me much at all. You know. Him being the Director and me being, well, just me really."

Gibbs didn't answer. He didn't talk to Palmer much either. He strode towards the elevator and Jimmy scurried after him.

"Dr Mallard's really excited," he said, "he's wondering if they might go to Zaire, or Zambia, or Zanzibar or Zimbabwe."

"Not called Zaire," said Gibbs, "it's the Democratic Republic of the Congo now."

"Really?" said Palmer, as he followed Gibbs into the elevator. Gibbs looked at him in surprise but Jimmy didn't seem to notice, "I wonder if Dr Mallard knows? I mean that Zaire has changed its name. He seems very fond of Africa. And knowledgeable too."

Gibbs found the team huddled round the MCRT truck. McGee was wearing ear plugs.

"Hi, Boss," said Tony cheerfully. At least that's what Gibbs thought he was saying, the hirsute growth on his face had a tendency to muffle his words.

"What you all doing here?" demanded Gibbs.

"Ah, Jethro," said Ducky, "Timothy and Anthony requested my advice following the Director's issuing of new orders. It seems you may all be going to Africa."

"What advice?" asked Gibbs.

"From my times on safari in that wonderful continent," said Ducky with a dreamy look in his eye.

"And why's McGee wearing ear plugs?" asked Gibbs, "He'd better not be listening to that panpipe music again."

"It's just a precaution," said Tony, "I think we should repaint the truck in zebra stripes. And well, you know, that's kind of a forbidden word with us."

"And I'm concerned," said Ducky, "that even if we don't say the Zword in Timothy's hearing, the very sight of the truck being striped might still trigger an adverse response."

Gibbs counted to ten.

"And you don't think," he said in measured tones, "that driving a zebra striped truck round DC would look odd?"

Tony considered this, "what do you suggest then, Boss? DC United have an eagle as a symbol. Should we paint the truck like an eagle? So it blends in when we're in DC?"

"Doctor," said Jimmy, "I've discovered that there's a fear of letters. Do you think that would include Agent McGee's phobia?

"That sounds promising, Mr Palmer. What is the name of this condition?"

"It's Epistolophobia, Doctor."

"Alas, Mr Palmer. That is a fear of writing letters, epistles rather than the fear of a particular component of the alphabet."

Gibbs took another sip of his coffee as he tried to process all the conversations going on around him. He was about to answer DiNozzo's question when there was a banging noise from inside the truck and, moments later, a damp Abby emerged wearing rain boots and an enormous apron.

"Hi, Gibbs," she said, "we're just fitting out the truck so that Horace can come with us to Africa."

"Abigail," said Ducky, "penguins don't come from Africa."

"I know," said Abby, "but travel broadens the horizons. And he'd miss me. But, afterwards, we could so take him home. Do penguins come from the Arctic or the Antarctic? Oh, Gibbs, can we, can we?"

Tony mumbled something which Gibbs didn't quite catch,

"DiNozzo!" he snapped, "speak …"

He didn't get a chance to finish as, unfortunately Tim had removed his ear plugs just in time to hear the dreaded letters. As before, he screeched and looked for somewhere to hide. An answering squawk came from inside the truck where it seemed that Horace was testing out his new home. Ducky, Jimmy and Tony all ran around trying to calm things down.

"ENOUGH!" roared Gibbs.

A blissful silence fell over the garage.

"Enough," said Gibbs in a calmer voice, "we are not going to paint stripes on the truck; we are not going to take Horace to Africa or the Arctic or the Antarctic; Tony is going to shave his moustache off and we are not going to name a phobia after McGee."

"And what about my fear of the last letter of the alphabet?" asked McGee who seemed to have calmed down.

Gibbs took a deep breath, "we'll work on it, Tim."

The group gave a collective sigh and, from behind him, Gibbs heard someone clapping. He turned to see it was the Director but soon everybody else joined in.

"Thank God," said Tony, "we were running out of Z things to talk about."

Gibbs looked warily at McGee who seemed unaffected by the word.

"Meet Horace," said Abby, thrusting a toy penguin into his hands.

"Welcome back, Jethro," said Ducky.

"We've got a cake, Boss," said Tim.

Gibbs looked in bemusement at a cake baked in the shape of a Z.

"It's coffee flavour," said Tony.

"This was all a joke?" asked Gibbs.

"Certainly not," said the Director, "I thought it would be a good idea to test if Dr Cranston's course had helped with your anger management issues."

"And has it?" asked Gibbs stepping forward threateningly.

The Director stood his ground, "I believe so."

Silence fell once more as the Director and Gibbs stared each other down. The tension mounted until the quiet was broken by the ringing of the Director's cell. The Director continued to hold Gibbs' gaze as he said, "I've got an appointment."

Gibbs nodded with satisfaction at his departure and then turned to look at his team. Who all took a step back. Gibbs stepped forward and placed Horace firmly back in Abby's arms. He then went to stare at Tony and, after a moment or two, reached forward and tore the moustache from off his lip.

"Ow," said Tony, "what if it had been real? You'd have just ripped half my face off." Gibbs continued to stare at him. "Of course, Boss," continued Tony, "you're the Boss. You knew it was false."

Gibbs raised his hand in a familiar gesture and Tony winced. The hand came down and ruffled Tony's hair.

"Good save, DiNoggo, good save," he said, "Now, where's that cake?" He dipped a finger in the frosting, "Zis is delicious," he said.

Another sigh of relief swept over the team as they all began to tell Gibbs what had really happened while he was away.

So, I need to share the 'blame'. Some time ago, Scousemuz1k announced that she had managed to write a story beginning with each letter of the alphabet. I thought that was a cool idea but didn't think I could do it but earlier this year I realised I was in reach. Cue, lots of weird titles to my stories and now, with this story, I am done! A story for each letter of the alphabet. Finished. Hooray!

P.S. the characters aren't mine. Although Horace the toy penguin is.

P.P.S. I'm going to go and lie down in a darkened room.