Family

“Take a seat, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Tony.” Tony gave a broad grin. “Call me Tony. Makes things less formal – I'd prefer to be on first name terms with someone who’s gonna be rummaging around in my head for the next hour.”

“Tony – if that makes you feel more comfortable.” Dr. Farley gave him a pleasant smile.

“It does. Hey, I’d shake your hand but…” Tony gestured with his head to the sling encasing his right arm.  He used the movement to take a good look at Farley. He judged him to be in his mid-forties; he had thinning dark hair and a round, almost cherubic face. He was fat and looked like he dressed more for comfort than for style. He was wearing a chunky cardigan in a particularly unpleasant shade of green, buttoned up over a plain beige shirt. His only really interesting feature was a pair of perceptive and unusually dark brown eyes.

Tony glanced around the room, taking in the neutral coloured walls, comfortable chairs, and state of the art computer system. “Nice place you’ve got here. You sure you work for the Navy? You’ve got cooler tech than we have. McGee would be so jealous.”

“Please sit down, Tony.”

Tony did as he was told. “Wow – these are comfy. Is it all part of the deal? Make it so comfy we forget we’re in a shrink’s office and feel like we’re at home, relaxing on the couch in front of the TV? That how it works, Dr. Farley? Is that what I should call you, by the way? Or maybe you want me to call you by your first name – part of the whole making-things-cosy deal?”

“What makes you most comfortable?” Dr. Farley gazed at him from bland brown eyes.

“Well, most people are more comfortable with first names – creates an illusion of intimacy even if it doesn’t really exist.” Tony shrugged. “Ooh – see what I did there? That was a deflection. But you know that already – see, I figure being a shrink is like doing an interrogation, and I’ve seen Gibbs do enough interrogations to know all the tricks.” He leaned forward and spoke in a low, cold tone. “So you’d better be good to get past me, Dr. Farley.”

The other man gazed at him impassively.  Tony grinned. “Hey, lighten up. I’m just kidding. What is your first name anyway?”

“Simon. You can call me that if you want.”

Tony laughed. “No. I just wanted to know what it is. When you get to know me, you’ll realise how nosy I am. I’d prefer to call you Dr. Farley.”

Dr. Farley didn’t react, which was kind of annoying. Tony liked people to react.

“Which is interesting,” Tony continued. “Because it implies I’ve cast us in certain roles, doesn’t it? You as the “Doctor”, the authority figure – me as “Tony” - maybe I’m more comfortable in a deferential, even subservient role. Or maybe I just want you to view me as unthreatening - and kinda cuddly.”

“Is that how you view yourself?”

Tony laughed. “Sure – I’m very cuddly.” Dr. Farley didn’t smile. Tony could see this one would be a hard nut to crack. “You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“No – I think *you* don’t believe you,” Dr. Farley replied. “I think you think you’re the complete opposite of unthreatening and cuddly.  You think that you’re very dangerous indeed.”

Tony’s smile broadened, and he sank back into his chair. “Oh, I knew this was gonna be fun,” he said. “If my arm wasn’t in this damn sling I’d be rubbing my hands together in glee right now.”

Dr. Farley gazed at him thoughtfully. “So, tell me about your injury, Tony.”

“What do you want to know?” Tony shrugged and then winced slightly as the movement hurt his shoulder. “It’s all in the report - they gave you a report on me, right? I mean, it’s why I’m here. I got shot, and it’s in the regs that before I can return to duty I have to see a shrink for a psych evaluation.”