First Published: December 25, 2015 on the NFA Community Forum.

A/N: Written for purple-muse as part of the 2015 Secret Santa Exchange on NFA. She requested a Tony-centric casefile/teamfic.

Rating: FR15/T
Category: Gen
Genre: Casefile, action/drama/humor/a-bit-of-everything, teamfic
Main Character(s): Tony DiNozzo and Team Gibbs
Pairings: Canon pairings only.

Three voices mingled between the trees. The forest was still. Cold. Black.

"You're late. I don't like to wait. It's fucking freezing out here, and I didn't put my thermal underwear on this morning." Gruff. Impatient.

"It's my fault." Nervous. Apologetic. "Forgot where this spot was. Been a while."

"Yeah, you were always good at being forgetful, weren't you, dipshit."

A flashlight shined from the darkness, blinding the two faces it struck.

"We have the money." The third voice, and one of the blinded faces. This one confident, brave.

"All of it?"

"All of it. So that means we're good, right? No more of this? You'll leave him alone?"

There was a tossed exchange of a duffle bag and then a lot of rustling. "Very merry Christmas to me. But as for you…"

Still blinded by the flashlight, they didn't even see it coming.

Three gunshots. Then a heavy thud. Strangled gurgle. A yell of surprise and the pounding of galloping feet.

"Yeah, you better run. Better keep your mouth shut, too!"

Happier Endings

CHAPTER ONE.

His cell phone dinged while he slowly typed yet another status report in between his multiple games of minesweeper. He paused to read the text from "Keates, Z." It was just above the string of Emojis between himself and "McGee, T." and the one-worded, rare replies from the contact simply labeled "Gibbs."

I miss you.

Tony replied right away, tapping at the screen. I miss you, too. Quantum Leap marathon tonight. Skype? He hit send, and then stared expectantly at the phone in his hand. When a minute or two passed, he tapped as quickly as he could: Gibbs approved my vacay request. Paid the deposit on the cabin. You'll be back by 12/24 at least, right?

He sent it, and again he waited.

And waited.

There was talking and laughter going on across the bullpen, but none of it caught his attention, until: "You wanna come with, Tony?"

His head snapped up, and he saw Tim waiting for his reply. "Sorry, I missed that?"

Tim gave him a funny look. It wasn't often that Tony kept himself on the outside of a good conversation, or any conversation, really. "I said," he spoke slowly, "'A bunch of us are heading out for a drink. Do you wanna come with us.'"

"Oh." Tony looked around at his desk. His "done" pile rose higher than the "to do" pile, but that wasn't saying much. The "to do" pile was still a couple inches thick. He poked at his phone again. No reply. (He wasn't obsessing. He wasn't obsessing at all…) "Where are you going?"

"That piano bar I was talking about earlier," Ellie said with a beaming smile. She wore a bright red and white knit sweater, and she had her blond hair tied back in a green bow. Even Tim had gotten into the holiday spirit, with his red collared shirt.

Ellie went on, "Half-off spiked eggnog until 8PM. Jake went the other week and said it's really classy. I think you'd like it."

"Plus, my friend is singing with a jazz band there," Abby chimed in as she straightened the Santa hat on her head. "It's going to be totally awesome, Tony. You've gotta come."

Tony rolled his shoulders. "Naw, you all go on without me. I think I'll just stay late and get through the back-log… Taking a few days off, you know. Soon."

"C'mon," Tim said. "Since when am I the one prodding you to go out and do something?"

"Since never," Tony grinned. The black screen of his phone kept mocking him.

"Aww, Tony baby," Abby whined. "Come out with us, pleeease! We haven't done a group outing in forever." When she saw Gibbs jogging down the stairs from Director Vance's office, her eyes brightened. "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Tell Tony here to come out with us."

Tony gave Abby a disgruntled "oh no, you didn't" look.

Gibbs rounded his desk and began to put on his coat. "DiNozzo, go out with Abby."

"Are you going, too?" Tony asked.

"I'm going, yeah, but not to your little get together."

"Where are you going?" Tony pressed. "Is there a case or something? Do you need me?"

Gibbs gave him a look layered in annoyance. Then he grabbed his cell phone and keys, before heading for the elevator. "Got a project to finish up. Go home everybody."

"You heard the man," Abby said. "Get your coat, Scrooge." She reached for Tony's arm and attempted to yank him up out of his chair. "Your first drink is on me."

Tony reluctantly complied and soon found his face full of his own coat as Abby tossed it at him.

"What about Delilah?" he asked McGee.

"She's meeting us there," McGee said.

As Tony buttoned up his coat, Abby leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. She then handed him his phone. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know." He checked his phone again. No reply. But then it had only been five minutes, if that. He figured there wasn't any harm in enjoying a nice evening out on the town with a few of his closest friends.

The piano bar was called Nick's, and it had a cozy feel to it with a festive flair. It was classy, like Ellie said, but in an accessible, familiar way. Their party of five picked a corner booth near the back, and Abby and Tim volunteered to bring over the first round, plus a cheese and cracker plate.

Needing something a bit stronger, Tony opted for a brandy manhattan, and as he sat there drinking and letting the warmth of alcohol and friendly company wash over him, he found himself smiling more and more.

Until he got the text message he'd been waiting so loyally for.

About that. Something came up. Call you later, okay?

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" someone was asking.

What did that mean? Was he obsessing? He was totally obsessing. This was obsessing. Oh god... here it comes...

"Tony?" Delilah prompted.

Caught off guard again, he looked up to find them all smiling his way. All four of them. Just a bunch of smiley, happy people out for a holiday drink. Just as he'd done before at the office, he said, "Sorry, I missed that?"

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Delilah repeated.

"Oh, you know," he shrugged. "It's just me and Zoe." He smiled woodenly.

"Oh come on," Abby said. "You told me about your plans."

"He won't shut up about them," Tim added. "When's she getting back in?"

"Any day now." Tony ordered another brandy manhattan, and the night spun on from there, and by the time the jazz band started to pack up to head home, he could say he was pleasantly intoxicated.

The next morning had DiNozzo dragging his feet into work. He sat slowly and batted at his wet hair a bit, knowing it was stubbornly lying in all the wrong directions. Then he rubbed at his eyes with his index finger and thumb before ever so slowly and painfully typing in his computer's password.

Bishop already sat at her desk, bright eyed and bushy-tailed. She watched him with distant, curious amusement. Apparently, the proclamations she once made of never getting drunk were true. Last night she'd nursed a single glass of eggnog until the bitter end.

Perhaps that amount of discipline could be admired.

He chuckled as he watched his emails load.

"What's so funny?" Ellie asked.

"I forgot my tie." Tony looked down at his shirt. No tie. "It's okay. Casual Tuesday."

"Well, you're still wearing a nice suit. And at least you remembered to put pants on."

"Hah hah," he deadpanned, "you should start a comedy club, Bishop."

They went quiet for a few minutes as they settled separately into mindless office tasks.

But then Tony's phone dinged. The text message said: I know you're pissed. It had to be awfully early out where Zoe was, but this time, he didn't reply, because yeah — he was a little pissed (and a lot dehydrated, judging by the headache.) And he felt like she was baiting him into an argument. He was no dummy; he knew a trap when he saw one.

"Alright, Bish," Tony said as he pushed his desk chair far enough back to get a better look at her over his computer. "I'm gonna come right out and ask."

Ellie looked up warily, glancing to the right for McGee, and to the left for Gibbs. No luck. They still weren't in. She and Tony were alone. Just them and the garish Christmas tree Abby had set next to Gibbs' cubicle wall. She breathed in deeply and said, "Okay, and what's that?"

"I need to ask you, uh—" He bit the bullet. "For some relationship advice."

Ellie blinked at Tony's sudden bashfulness. She frowned. "I really don't know if I'm qualified…"

"You're a woman, and Zoe's a woman. So you're more than qualified."

"Maybe you should just ask McGee, or—"

"No, I'm asking you," Tony almost snapped. "And contrary to many of his life choices, McGee is not a woman."

"Oh-kay…" She seemed doubtful. "But just so you know, we're people, Tony, not some alien race. Besides, I've met Zoe, and we're as alike as sea urchins and flying squirrels."

"That's a… unique comparison."

"Do you need another one to get my point? I've got dozens."

Tony huffed, before begging, "Can you just help me out here, Ellie? Please?" He gave her an ingratiating and innocent smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Go."

He took a breath. "It's Zoe. As you know, she's been doing a lot of work with the ATF field office in Seattle. Flying back and forth and such."

"Okay," she nodded, patiently.

"And she just informed me they offered her a job. A super awesome, once-in-a-lifetime, if-you-don't-take-it-you're-a-damned-fool job." Tony paused to breathe. "I'm happy for her. I'm deliriously happy for her. This is what she's been wanting ever since she got a badge."

Ellie's eyebrows knit together in concern. "Is she taking it?"

"I don't know." Before she could spout off any generic platitudes, Tony went on, "So I need an objective opinion. About whether or not I'm overreacting." Then he repeated, "I don't know."

"Well technically," Ellie said, "my opinion wouldn't be objective — because you're my coworker and a friend, too — so at best it would be subjective, and—"

"Okay, can you be a little less like McGee right now? Otherwise I woulda just gone to him with this." Tony looked around to double-check that they were still alone. They were.

Still just him and Bishop and that damn happy Christmas tree. Right now, Tony wanted to take it and bash it several times against a desk while yelling, "Who's gonna have a fucking happy Christmas now, assholes?" But he restrained himself. Being mandated to complete a psychological eval because he beat up a happy little Christmas tree wasn't his idea of a good career move.

"So what else happened?" Ellie prompted.

Tony seemed relieved that she asked. "She reneged on our Christmas plans," he said, before quickly adding, "I know it sounds stupid, but I really planned this whole thing out. We've been planning it out, and now suddenly she tells me she can't make it? One day before? And I've been texting and texting — and calling, too — trying to figure out what she's doing, what we're doing." He stopped. "Oh my god, when did I become the woman in this relationship?"

"I'd be upset, too," Ellie offered.

"But you're a woman."

"Well yeah! You wanted to ask me for my opinion!"

"She accused me of being too needy. I'm not needy at all!"

Ellie only nodded, as if she knew that accusation was categorically untrue (even though she kind of doubted that.) Tony might do a great job broadcasting that he was an island unto himself, but deep down, he was pure velcro. And Ellie could understand. Tony seemed like a guy ready to settle down, or at least prepare for it. If he needed a bit more attention and belly-scratching than the typical man, so what? Admittedly, Jake wasn't like that at all... and she preferred his laid-back temperament.

She could imagine that a little bit of Tony's personality went a long way.

"She says there's a lot of work to be done out in Seattle," Tony rambled, "and there's this case she's taking point on. And I understand… I get it… it's work, and work's important. I love work! I'm a workaholic! But aren't I supposed to be important, too?" He threw his hands up. "See? I am the woman. And I've become that guy I've told McGee never to be…"

"Maybe you should stop with the whole "woman" versus "man" thing. Obviously, you're the sensitive one, and Zoe's the more independent one."

"I'm not sensitive! I only wanted us to do this Christmas thing together. Is that too much to ask? I thought it would be nice."

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing."

"DiNozzo's aren't sensitive."

Again, Ellie rolled her eyes. "Okay."

"I don't want to screw up a good relationship," Tony said. "I've done enough of that. But if she takes that job in Seattle… I don't know."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"I'm sick of everybody flaking out on me." Tony put his face in his hands. "You know…" he mumbled through his fingers. "Times like these, I wonder if I should just give it all up and become a monk."

"Pretty sure they'd throw you out after a day," McGee chimed in having recently arrived. He failed to clue in on the somber mood. "And I never flake out on you." He sat down without further comment and woke up his computer.

"Except for that one time you stood me up at that bar," Tony said.

"When was that?" Tim looked honestly confused.

Ellie muttered, "He's not sensitive at all…"

"I'm not!"

Not wanting to tangle in that mess so early in the morning, McGee pulled a red and green sprinkle donut from a paper sack and began meticulously picking the sprinkles off, pretty much one by one.

Tony stared across the bullpen at it. Finally, he asked, "Aren't you gonna share?"

Begrudgingly, and without a word, Tim split the sugary confection in half, setting aside Tony's share on a spare napkin. "Happy?"

"Happier," Tony replied.

Ellie watched the two of them with a fond little grin.

"Grab your gear!" Gibbs suddenly appeared from around the corner. He smacked Tony on the head as he did. "Look alive, DiNozzo. You're not on vacation yet. Dead petty officer in Rock Creek Park."