Author's Note: My first try at an NCIS fic. Just a fluffy little something before the start of the new season.
CHRISTENING
"Are you sure this is where Gibbs told us to meet him, Probie?" Tony DiNozzo asked.
Timothy McGee leaned up from the back seat. "For the fifth time, Tony, yes. I even programmed the coordinates into the GPS."
"Oh, like Gibbs gave you GPS coordinates, McLost."
"I programmed in the address, okay Tony?" He held up his phone, showing the blinking dot of their car on an overlaid map of the region. "1500 M Street, Southeast."
Ziva David frowned at the Department of the Interior sign. "Why would Gibbs want us to meet him at the Washington Yacht Club? And why did he tell us not to bring our gear?"
Abby Sciuto, the black-hair goth with the spider web tattoo on her neck leaned forward, edging McGee aside. "Ooh. Maybe it's an undercover assignment. I haven't gotten to go undercover since I infiltrated that porn site."
"I don't know if that really qualifies as undercover," McGee said. "I mean, you were just pretending to work there so you could get us into their…" At a withering stare from Abby, McGee immediately back-tracked. "I mean, you have mad undercover skills, Abby," he said. "Real OSP material."
"Good recovery, McGee," Tony snarked from the driver's seat.
"Look," Ziva interrupted, pointing to a man standing beside a classic car. "There's Ducky."
Tony pulled into the parking place next to Ducky's, careful not to park too close and risk dinging the Medical Examiner's prized Morgan roadster. Not surprisingly, it was the heavily caffeinated Abby who was the first to jump out of the car, almost before Tony got it into 'park.'
"Hey, Ducky," Abby said. "Any idea why Gibbs wanted us out here?" She dropped her voice to a rather loud conspiratorial whisper. "Are we going undercover?"
Donald "Ducky" Mallard smiled at Abby and nodded a greeting to the agents exiting the car. "I am afraid Gibbs didn't tell me why he wanted us here, although I could hazard a guess."
"What would that be, Ducky?" Tony asked, slipping his weapon onto his belt under his coat.
"Ah, but that would be telling," Ducky said. "I don't want to spoil Jethro's surprise... if he's planning a surprise."
"You're late," came a hard-edged voice from across the parking lot. The little group all turned to catch sight of the silver-haired man in a USS Nimitz ballcap and NIS sweatshirt striding toward them.
"Sorry, Boss," Tony said. "Probie here was navigating and…"
"Excuses, DiNozzo?" Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry, Boss," Tony said.
Gibbs walked up and Tony flinched at the inevitable slap to the back of the head. He had violated one of Gibb's cardinal rules: Never apologize. To his surprise and relief, the whack never came, although Tony just assumed that meant it would come later, when he wasn't expecting it.
Gibbs turned to Ducky. "Hey, Duck. You bring it?"
"Of course, Jethro." Ducky reached into the car and pulled out a brown paper bag molded to the shape of a bottle. He handed it to Gibbs, who nodded by way of thanks.
Tony and Ziva looked at each other quizzically.
"Well, come on," Gibbs said. He strode off without another word. They hurried to catch up, Abby making a quick 'clump, clump, clump' in her high-heeled boots.
He led them across the parking lot toward the boat ramp.
There was a collective gasp from the NCIS team when they saw it.
A beat-up old pickup was parked at the top of the boat ramp. Behind it, mounted on a trailer and towering above them, was a gorgeous hand-crafted wooden sailboat. The team stopped in their tracks and stared up at it, admiring the hand-crafted finish, the graceful lines, the brightly polished fittings.
Tony moved first. He had to know. He walked slowly around to the back of the boat and looked up at the stern. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and then nodded slowly. "Good name, Boss. Good name."
The others hurried around to the back. Emblazoned across the back of the boat, in elegant red lettering, was the boat's name: 'Jenny.' They all stood for a long moment, staring.
Ducky finally broke the silence. "I think she would be pleased, Jethro."
Gibbs reached into the bag Ducky had given him and pulled out a bottle of champagne. "Abby, you care to do the honors?"
Abby smiled and gave a delighted little squeal. "You mean it, Gibbs?"
"Would I have asked otherwise?" Gibbs asked. But a smile softened the retort.
Abby hurried over and took the bottle. The others gathered around as she moved to the bow. She held up the bottle by the neck and placed it against the wooden bow.
"Wait!" Gibbs yelled.
They all turned and looked over at him. "You don't hit a wooden boat with a bottle. You'll dent the boat. Hit it on the trailer."
Abby gave him a sheepish grin and moved over to the metal winch of the trailer. She looked over at Gibbs, who nodded. "I hereby christen thee, the GSS Jenny." She swung the bottle a little too hard, shattering it against the trailer and spraying them all with champagne and bits of glass. They all ducked out of the spray as best they could until the shower subsided and then turned back to the boat.
Abby, soaked with champagne, smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Sorry, guys," she said.
Gibbs took the broken neck of the bottle from her and tossed it over into a nearby oil drum serving as a trash can. "You did great, Abbs."
Abby squealed again and hugged Gibbs, who managed not to wince as the scientist pressed her alcohol-soaked body against his.
When Abby let go, Gibbs turned to Tony. "Help me launch her?" he asked.
"With pleasure, Boss," Tony responded. He turned to McGee. "Probie? Clean up the glass, will you?"
Ziva leaned over to whisper to Abby, "GSS?"
"Gibbs Sailing Ship," Abby explained.
Half an hour later, Gibbs unfurled the Jenny's sails for the first time afloat and her prow bit into the water. The boat was crowded with all six of them aboard, but no one seemed to mind the close quarters. Ziva was smiling as she trailed her hand in the water. Ducky was in the cabin, tending to a small cut McGee had on his hand from picking up the glass from the champagne bottle. Abby was laying on the bow, laughing at the spray that flew into her face. And Tony sat next to Gibbs at the tiller. He leaned over and spoke softly to his boss and mentor. "You done good, Boss."
Gibbs looked over at him and then around at the rest of his team and smiled. Tomorrow, no doubt, they would be back investigating some grisly murder scene or terrorist threat. But for today, they were just friends enjoying a leisurely sail along the Anacostia River. To the great surprise of his team, Gibbs threw back his head and laughed.