NCIS is all about Naval Criminal Investigative Service. It follows a crew of special agents solving crimes tied to military folks and their families. Led by Leroy Jethro Gibbs, known for his tough love and head-slaps, this show has taken off. It’s a big deal, spawning spin-offs and becoming a cultural icon.

Meet the characters from NCIS

Gibbs

Gibbs is the quiet storm of NCIS — the kind of leader who speaks in rules and looks that could curdle milk, but somehow also makes a mean cup of coffee that he never actually finishes. He’s all about instincts, old-fashioned detective work and that mysterious jug of revenge that he never explains properly — also a lot of lawns with shotguns in them, apparently. Underneath the gruff exterior there’s a weirdly soft, stubborn loyalty; he’ll barely say it out loud but he’d walk through fire for his team. He’s stoic, haunted sometimes, and surprisingly sentimental about oddly specific mementos (don’t ask about the corncob pipe or whatever that thing was).

Anthony

Tony DiNozzo is the walking chaos of charm — movie-obsessed wisecracker, practical joker, and utterly insufferable…until he proves he’s the most loyal guy in the room. He’s like a human rom-com montage who also reads case files in the middle of the night and cries about the dogs, sometimes in the same breath; immaturity and deep devotion coexisting, which is somehow his whole vibe. He’ll tease everyone, hog the good chair, and then bail you out of a life-or-death mess without fanfare. Also he loves bad popcorn and dressing up in movie-era suits for no reason, which is somehow exactly him.

Vance

Leon Vance is the over-suited backbone of the agency — controlled, politically savvy, and forever balancing paperwork against doing the right thing. He’s the guy who can deadpan at a briefing but then quietly carry the weight of a dozen nightmares; fearlessly formal and oddly paternal at times, which is not what you expect from someone who schedules your budget meeting. He’s serious, strategic, and has a dry sense of humor that surfaces like a surprise dessert. Also rumored to have an immaculate plant in his office and inexplicably good taste in ties — both facts may be exaggerations but also maybe not.

Tim

Tim McGee is the gentle tech wizard who grew up from shy hacker to solid, indispensable field agent — he’s the kind of guy who bookmarks things like emotional bookmarks, and yes, he genuinely loves spreadsheets. Nerdy, earnest, a bit awkward, and also quietly brave when the chips are down; he’ll unravel a cyber-tangle and worry about whether his sandwich is empathetic in the process. He’s sarcastic in a soft way sometimes, and surprisingly good at improvising under pressure, even if he pretends he’s terrified. Oh, and he has a penchant for puns and obscure internet fandom references that he won’t stop whispering at the worst possible moments.

Jimmy

Jimmy Palmer is sunshine wrapped in scrubs — optimistic, a little flustered, endlessly kind, and prone to cheerfully failing at being blasé about literally anything medical. He started as the awkward assistant and grew into a competent, caring chief who still cries at the end of heartfelt meetings and keeps emergency chocolate in his coat. He’s devoted to his mentor Ducky (to the point of collecting obscure duck-themed mugs, maybe), painfully earnest, and brave in a quiet, procedural way when the autopsy room gets complicated. Also he’ll make the worst dad jokes and then look proud of himself, which is weirdly adorable and slightly unnerving.

Ducky

Ducky Mallard is a walking history book with a stethoscope and a penchant for long, poetic lectures that somehow explain everything and also nothing at the same time — you’ll either get philosophy or a very specific anecdote about Napoleon, sometimes both in the same breath. He’s cultured, precise, ridiculously knowledgeable about anatomy and old stories, and affectionately old-school with an endless supply of bizarre-but-charming facts. Deeply compassionate, a little theatrical, and secretly a prankster who would write a thesis on the moral implications of embalming if asked (and maybe he was, once). Also he smells faintly of lemon and library glue in the best possible way — or maybe that’s just the lab.

Nick

Nick Torres is the swaggering ex-cop with a soft center — impulsive, streetwise, and full of edgy one-liners, yet also the kind of person who’ll quietly pet a stray dog between interrogations. He’s the undercover specialist with unpredictable methods, which makes him brilliant at getting in and out of trouble while looking cool in the process. Loyal almost to a fault, and he wrestles with authority in ways that are complicated but compelling; there’s this constant tension between bravado and a surprisingly tender moral compass. Rumor has it he likes spicy tacos at midnight and sometimes hums very badly, which is a crime and yet somehow endearing.

Ellie

Ellie Bishop is the sharp, bookish ex-NSA analyst who transitioned to fieldwork with an awkward sort of elegance — detail-obsessed, quietly competitive, and forever making pointedly practical observations in the middle of chaos. She’s analytical to the core but has developed a dry, sneaky sense of humor and an unexpected knack for improvisation during stakeouts. She cares about grammar and procedure in one breath and will punch a wall (metaphorically? sometimes literally?) for justice in the next; the contradictions make her fascinating. Also she probably has a perfectly organized drawer of pens and a secret soft spot for cheesy crime novels she swears she only reads for research.

Jack

Jack Sloane is the intensely driven, razor-sharp agent who shows up like a storm and stays like a lighthouse — tough, stubborn, and morally unyielding but with a surprising tenderness when it comes to people she trusts. She has a military-ish, no-nonsense vibe, but she’s also deeply compassionate, a weird mix of discipline and mother-bear instinct that complicates everything in the best way. She’ll bark orders and then quietly arrange coffee for everyone, which is somehow both terrifying and heartening. Also she collects tiny mementos from cases (coins? ticket stubs?) that she insists are practical but are clearly sentimental hoarding.

Kasie

Kasie Hines is the ecstatic, glitter-loving forensics guru who treats lab work like a sparkling festival of data — she’s enthusiastic to an almost alarming degree and will absolutely explain the molecular structure of a blood spatter while wearing a Halloween sweater. Brilliant, hyper-focused, endlessly cheerful, and slightly chaotic, she somehow makes the lab feel like the friendliest place to be when the world is falling apart. She cares about details to a borderline obsessive degree and hoards snacks and novelty pens like a packrat scientist-elf. Also she’s probably rearranged your case timeline into a color-coded masterpiece and then left a smiley sticker on it because reasons.