NCIS, that little show that kicked off in 2003 and refuses to die, follows a fictional crew of crime solvers. They deal with Navy and Marine Corps shenanigans. You got Mark Harmon as Gibbs, Sean Murray as McGee and Michael Weatherly as DiNozzo. Action, laughs and characters you can’t help but love. Plus, there are spin-offs like NCIS: Los Angeles and NCIS: New Orleans. Because why stop at one when you can stretch it into a whole franchise?

Meet the partners from NCIS

Gibbs

Gibbs is that gravel-voiced, rule-stickin’, coffee-first type who somehow runs the whole place with a look and a burnt-out pen. He’s this old-school fixer — gruff, quiet, and somehow devastatingly private — but then he’ll do something almost goofy like hum to himself in the car and you think, wait, soft? He’s obsessed with rules (Rule One, Rule Two, the whole shrine) and also breaks them when the job or his people need it, which is both terrifying and comforting. He’s a hunter of truth, not applause, and will stare down a suspect like he’s asking them to confess to being boring. Honestly, he’s part curmudgeon, part father figure, part storm — and yes, his boat scenes are iconic even if he’s not a boat person, probably.

Anthony

Anthony is the resident movie-quoting, wisecracking, occasionally infuriating heartbeat of the team — oh, and he’s ridiculously good at catching bad guys, like somehow half-charm, half-chase. He’s clownish on the surface (and will absolutely call people by ridiculous nicknames) but there’s a very stubborn, loyal core underneath that makes him surprisingly dependable. He flirts, he pranks, he acts like he doesn’t care, and then he shows up with exactly the right joke at exactly the wrong time — in the best way. Slightly immature, fiercely protective, and secretly sentimental about team traditions that he’ll deny loving if you ask him (but he’ll remember birthdays).

Vance

Vance is all buttoned-up authority with a hint of quiet exasperation, the kind of boss who keeps the whole circus from collapsing and looks like he enjoys it about as much as a root canal. He’s professional to the bone, politically savvy, and sometimes unexpectedly blunt, but you can tell he carries the weight of every weird case and every staff email like it’s a rucksack he never sets down. He’ll argue with you about budgets and then quietly insist the team has everything they need — in his own complicated, corporate-love way. He gives stern looks that somehow double as back-up and, fun fact, maybe has a soft spot for flowers on his desk? Or maybe that’s paperwork, hard to say.

Tim

Tim is the lovable nerd of the office, the tech whisperer who can make a laptop sing and still blush when someone calls him brave — true story. He’s got this dry, self-deprecating humor and the memory of a database (he’ll remember an obscure phone model from 2007 but forgot to eat lunch), and he oscillates between anxious and decisively heroic in the space of a minute. He’s quietly moral, a little awkward in big rooms, and oddly competitive about harmless things like the best board game or the worst movie. Basically, he’s the friend you want on stakeout because he’ll code a router with his eyes closed and also bring donuts.

Jimmy

Jimmy is sunshine and nervous energy wrapped in a lab coat, slightly trembling around corpses but oddly excited about paperwork and weird little details only a medical tech would love. He’s endlessly kind, a bit of a klutz sometimes (trips over shoes, I swear), and painfully earnest — you can practically see his heart on a slide. He worries, he cares, and then he grows into the job like someone who tripped into being indispensable and stayed because he genuinely wanted to help. He adores odd ties and probably has a stash of terrible, cheerful mugs; don’t underestimate him though, he’s tougher than his voice sounds.

Ducky

Ducky is a walking, talking history book with a soft Scottish twinkle and a penchant for long-winded anecdotes that will make you weep and laugh in the same breath. He’s poetic about bones, sentimental about cadavers (yes, really), and shockingly sharp — like, he’ll drop a hundred-year-old medical reference and you’ll blink and realize you missed the point. He tells stories, calls people pet names, and has this gentle, slightly eccentric wisdom that makes lecture time feel like theater. He’s both macabre and tender, the kind of guy who can quote Dickens and then make a morbid joke about a rib.

Nick

Nick is the swaggering undercover type who moves fast, talks smooth, and has this reckless kind of cool that makes you worry and also cheer. He’s dangerous in an elevator-pitched way — brave without being showy — and he loves a mystery like it’s a late-night taco run: impulsive and absolutely necessary. There’s a hidden softness though, like he’ll disappear into danger and come back unexpectedly thoughtful, maybe humming a sad song or petting a dog he found. He’s messy, confident, occasionally stubborn, and somehow both a lone wolf and team-player depending on the caffeine level.

Ellie

Ellie is quietly fierce and ridiculously meticulous — she treats paperwork like a craft, which sounds boring until you realize it’s what keeps people alive. She’s calm, a little bookish, and has a dry, deadpan humor that sneaks up on you; also, she will absolutely correct your procedure without making a production of it. She obsesses over details, cares about rules, but will leap into danger when it matters (and later apologize for being messy about it, because she will). She’s approachable but has this cool, secret interior life where she makes mixtapes and probably owns more cozy sweaters than is reasonable.

Jack

Jack is intense in the best way — like a storm-front with stilettos, all focused energy and a history you can sense even when she smiles. She’s professional to a fault, brave, and has this layered vulnerability that pops up in flashbacks and sideways glances; she’s part soldier, part therapist for broken souls. She can be inscrutable one minute and disarmingly warm the next, which is kind of addictive and also slightly terrifying if you’re a suspect. She collects secrets and old maps in her brain, drinks tea like it’s a ritual, and will absolutely bench-press expectations (metaphorically… maybe literally on occasion).

Kasie

Kasie is the glittery brains of the lab — bubbly, hyper-enthusiastic, and science-obsessed in the way that makes you grin even if you don’t understand half the acronyms she tosses around. She decorates the workspace like a craft fair exploded, has a million plushies or crystals or both (questionable organization, 10/10 vibes), and somehow turns forensic tech into an upbeat musical number. She’s warm, endlessly optimistic, and will geek out over a shard of glass with more passion than some people have for their pets. In short: she’s the sparkly, hyper-efficient wizard of evidence who also has weirdly good taste in board games.