TITLE: Santa's Secret Helper
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTERS: the whole team (including Jenny Shepard and Jimmy Palmer)
GENRE: Gen, Humor
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1,000
SUMMARY: Secret Santa at NCIS … not an easy challenge for everyone. But there's always Ducky they could turn to for help
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters (although I'd love to own Action Figure Gibbs), nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.
WARNING: not beta'd. No spoiler (only some tiny references to 7.10 - but these aren't real spoiler, since they don't give away anything)
NOTE: I did a fandom/character meme yesterday and I ended up with a very odd pairing ... and the idea for this story ;)

~*~*~*~*~

"He, Probie? Found a present for the boss-man, yet?" Tony asked, as usual taking a break from investigating the team's latest crime scene. He grinned as McGee's face turned pale as it always did lately, when someone mentioned this year's Secret Santa. Poor McGee had drawn Gibb's name out of the hat and ever since he was desperately trying to find the perfect gift.
"Not yet, Tony. But I will. Eventually …"
"Better hurry, McWhitebeard."
"Let it go, Tony!" Ziva warned Tony. "Not everyone can be as lucky as you are. Finding something for Abby is much easier than it is for your boss."
"I wouldn't call it lucky, Ziva," Ducky interrupted her, but turned around when his young assistant stumbled over the body. "Everything okay, Mr. Palmer?"
"Yes, Doctor Mallard. I … I'm sorry."
Ducky sighed. "As I was saying, Ziva … as far as I know Tony traded poor Mrs. Myers for Mr. Hammond, only to convince Mr. Annett from Accounting to trade Abby for Mr. Hammond and … - What, Tony? I may be older, but I'm not deaf. Don't give me that look."
"What look, Duck?"
"Ouch!" As usual Gibbs had turned up out of nowhere, to head-slap his agent as soon as he'd sensed trouble.
"Nothing, Jethro," Ducky answered, smiling

"He, Palmer? Who's yours?" Tony asked, after Gibbs and Ducky had turned their attention to the dead marine.
"Mine?"
"Your Secret Santa. Didn't get crazy Dolores from HR, did you?"
"I … umm … I'll get the gurney," Jimmy stuttered, practically heading for the hills.
"What was that?" Tony asked.
"Dunno. Maybe he got Dolores," Ziva offered, shrugging.

~*~*~*~*~

"Doctor Mallard? Can I ask you a question?" Jimmy looked up from the blood sample, his boss had just handed him.
"What is it, my boy?" Ducky gave his assistant a warm smile. "Something seems bothering you lately. Is your mother all right?"
"What? Yes … she's fine. Thank you. No, it's … what would you buy someone … well, older?"
"Older?" Ducky asked, amused. "Older as in 'over thirty'? Well, that depends on how good you know that person and how much you like her - or him. And, of course, what statement you'd like to make. With the present."
Jimmy nodded, slowly. "Actually, I don't know, Doctor Mallard," he said. "It's for the Secret Santa and … I don't know ... I was thinking flowers, but I don't want to give her a wrong impression."
"Her? It's a woman then?"
"Yes. It's …" Jimmy looked over his shoulder, and lowered his voice. "It's the director."
"Oh."
"That's exactly what I was thinking after I'd drawn the name out of the hat."
"What were you thinking, Palmer?"
"Oh, Jethro … right in time. I was just about to call you," Ducky made a step forward, between Gibbs and his assistant, trying to keep poor Mr. Palmer from saying something stupid. "Mr. Palmer, please be so kind and bring this up to Abby. I … we will talk about this later."
"Of course, Dr. Mallard. Thank you."

~*~*~*~*~

"Dr. Mallard? Do you have a minute?" Ducky, who was just about to enter the elevator stopped and turned around, only to see the director walking over to him.
"For you, always, director," he said. "You look exhausted. Shouldn't you be at home, my dear?"
"I wish I could," Jenny said, sighing. "I have a conference with Bahrain later."
"You work too much, Jennifer"
"I know, Ducky," Jenny sighed. "I know … But I'm not here to ask for your opinion as a doctor. I need your advise on … something personal."
"Personal? Is Jethro bothering you again?"
Jenny shook her head, smiling. "No, it's not Jethro. Not this time. I wanted to talk to you about your assistant."
"Mister Palmer? Has he done something wrong?"
"No, Ducky. He's fine. It's just … you know about this Secret Santa thing?"
"Yes …," Ducky answered, slowly, wondering if Jethro had overheard more than he should have; and if he did, why he'd told Jenny. Jethro couldn't hate Christmas that much, could he?
"The thing is … Mr. Palmer is the unlucky person, whose name I've drawn out of the hat and -"
"Oh …," Ducky said, starting to feel stupid for using this word so often lately. But this whole situation was starting to became the strangest thing he'd experienced.
"You … umm … you want my advise what to get him?"
"Exactly. Do you have any ideas?"

~*~*~*~*~

"I believe that one's yours, Palmer." Tony pointed at the box, wrapped in green paper and decorated with red ribbon. The whole team had gathered in the conference room where everyone had dropped off their gifts earlier and picked up the ones someone had left for them. Gibbs was already back at his desk, enjoying the annual edition of his Sniper magazine, and Jenny had excused herself a few minutes ago to attend a conference in MTAC, a brand-new green scarf around her shoulders that perfectly matched her eyes.
No-one but Ducky had noticed Jimmy's look that had turned from near-to-nervous-breakdown to relieved after Jenny had opened her box, bright-eyed.
Now, Ducky was watching Jimmy unwrapping the special edition of the anatomy book Ducky had recommended Jenny.
"Now that's something to be jealous about, Mr. Palmer," he said, smiling knowingly.
"What?" Jimmy asked, confused. He'd been too focused on the card he'd found with the book to notice Ducky. When he looked up and turned to Ducky his cheeks were flushing.
"No, it's just … she … do you thing it is a sign?"
"What?"
"That we got each other's names … me and director … this must mean something, Doctor Mallard. I mean, what are the odds?"

Ducky looked at his assistant, sighing softly. On the one hand he was relieved that the presents he'd suggested had appealed to all of them, and he was also glad that he still knew his friends so well, but on the other hand … he wasn't so sure how to feel about the exuberance of feeling he was starting to sense from his assistant.

- The End -

Happy holidays!