(A/N and Disclaimer: ...Oh dear. Long time no update! All I can say in my defence is I had total writers block since I wrote my last oneshot, and the few moments of inspiration I've had have been, sadly, blimmin' hard to find time for. My New Years resolution will be not to neglect my in-progress fanfics! I'll be a good girl for 2009, I promise. For now, I'm uploading this - a festive angst/ romance/ fic, which should hopefully be 12 chapters long when I finish it. It contains a lot of slash and femmeslash, at least heavily implied; so if you don't like, don't read! However, to the slash-shippers amongst you, Merry Christmas or anything else you may celebrate and I hope I manage to do the fantastic characters and show - which I do not own in any way, shape or form- justice! This is for all my fantastic, crazy friends - Ellie, Jenny, Loz, Daina, Rosie, Kels, Jack and Jonny, that means you! - and my beautiful girlfriend, Rowan. And now, I think I've rambled enough, so lets rock'n'roll! Or something...)

Gibbs sighed as he picked up his hot, industrial strength coffee to-go; thanking the struggling girl on the other side of the counter - probably hired to help during the Christmas rush, he guessed - with a nod of the head and an unintentionally gruff "Merry Christmas", before turning to manoeuvre through the throngs of chattering people - all pink-cheeked from the cold, and weighed down by bags bulging with their Christmas purchases; rolls of wrapping paper protruding dangerously from some, and small children jumping up and down at the sides of their fondly exasperated parents, excited by the Christmas lights and carol singers outside. It was definitely Christmastime. As he mercifully managed to exit the coffee shop without spilling his coffee or being accidentally jabbed somewhere painful with the end of a roll of wrapping paper, Gibbs sighed and thanked any deity out there that he had now, finally, finished all his Christmas shopping - he'd rather have volunteered to act as a knife-throwing target for Ziva than return even closer to December 25th, when the current crowds of shoppers would have become a frantic stampede desperate to find presents for loved ones amongst the depleted stock in the two-for-one seasonal sale aisles. He hated Christmas shopping at the best of times - but this year, he had someone special to buy for. Well. A 'would-be' someone special.

Finally returning to his car, swearing under his breath at the biting cold that somehow permeated even his warmest coat and scarf, he placed his two bags of purchases on the front passenger seat, placing his steaming coffee cup in the cup-holder beside him - and, locking the car from the inside, pulled the bag nearest to him over to examine the purchases inside. Resting the bag on his knee, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. It had been bad enough, since Shannon and Kelly, spending Christmases alone with nothing to look forward to but a visit to the cemetery and getting blissfully inebriated in his basement afterwards while listening to Christmas classics on the fuzzy, crackling radio. But because of this... attraction, which was more depressingly real than anything he had felt for anyone since Shannon's death, this year he was all set for the added pang of unrequited love marring his Christmas day. He took a long swig of his coffee. The unsweetened, tar-like substance was bitter as he swallowed it down - but, clichИd as it was, Gibbs couldn't help thinking that no black coffee could be as bitter as the feelings he had for this person going unrequited, if noticed at all. He mentally head-slapped himself at that thought. Since when did Marines, let alone him, sit in their cars drinking coffee and feeling sorry for themselves, mooning over a colleague? Leroy Jethro Gibbs, what has happened to you?
He sighed again. Talking to himself inside his head... He had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot over Christmas. Whoever said 'it's the most wonderful time of the year' was talking out of their ass as far as he was concerned. Christmas was the worst of times- this year especially.

Suddenly realising that his teeth were beginning to chatter, he turned his key in the ignition to start the car engine and hopefully begin to heat the car up a few degrees - enough to stop frostbite setting in, at least. He decided to busy himself in the meantime by looking over his purchases. A decent bottle of wine for the Director, a festive bow-tie for Ducky, a necklace for Abby, a book for McGee - not Deep Six, although the thought had been tempting - and for Tony... He looked glumly at the bag on his lap. Pulling out the two gifts inside, he held one up in each of his cold hands and looked at them critically. Somehow, the time he had spent carefully choosing Tony's gift didn't seem enough, and at the same time seemed too personal, too much. He was sure Tony would know instantaneously how he felt when he gave him his present - and if Gibbs had been horrified to realise how he really thought of the wisecracking field agent, he didn't like to think how Tony would feel. Gibbs' Rule 12 had doubtless pissed off many people, many times - and here he was breaking it. Or wishing he could, which was even worse. But where Tony was concerned, it seemed that rules were made to be broken - and Gibbs would have been fully prepared to snap them all in two and throw them out of the window, if there was any point. Tony would never want him in the same way, and there wasn't anything Gibbs could do to change it. Gibbs wasn't used to not getting what - or, indeed, who he wanted; but this was one time he knew that there really was no point. His gut hadn't been wrong yet.

Despite his worries about Tony's gift, he knew they were perfect for the other man. The shirt he had chosen was dark purple and of a silky material, tasteful and well cut, and he knew it would look instantly stunning the minute Tony put it on - en again, anything would in Gibbs' eyes, much as he hated to admit it, even to himself. And the other gift was just... 100%, pure Tony. Gibbs had known, whatever the price, he had to get it for him. The Complete Seventh Season of Magnum, P. I; which Gibbs knew was the only season of Magnum that Tony didn't already possess - he, allegedly, had bought it; but then the box set went missing after a party Tony hosted, and a friend, when asked, of his claimed to have won it off him in a game of poker. He knew that Tony would love the gifts, but couldn't help but wonder if he would be perturbed at receiving a personal present from "The Boss". Gibbs rarely showed Tony affection - and he hated himself for it at times, but if the alternative was giving away his feelings for the younger agent then he knew which he'd rather do - and a personal gift like this would not so much blow his cover but send it rocketing into orbit. But he was, in all honesty, sick of pretending like this with someone he had to see every day. If he didn't do something about it soon, rash and unwise as it might be, it would drive him insane. He had already resigned himself to the fact that Tony wouldn't feel the same, and he could handle it. It was having to hide something so momentous, all the time, from someone he trusted with his life in the field, that made him feel as if he was being pulled further and further down into something like oblivion with every step he took. Even Tony's rage or hatred would be less painful.

Gibbs slowly replaced Tony's gifts into the bag and put it back on the seat beside him. Picking up his coffee, he downed it in a few generous gulps before placing the empty cup back into the holder. The car had warmed up considerably while he had been mulling over his thoughts, and it was now a comfortable temperature. In the hope of blocking out the unwelcome introspective thoughts clouding his head, Gibbs reached over and switched on the radio. A jazzy, festive rendition of "Jingle Bells" that was far too cheery for Gibbs' current mood began piping into the car. Gibbs sighed, and said aloud to himself as he began to pull out of his parking spot:
"Damn Christmas!"

(Ummm...any opinions? Sorry it's all so angsty and clichéd and out-of-character for Gibbs. The next chapter should be up very soon - I'm trying to get the lot done for Christmas, but whether that'll happen, we will have to see...
Oh, and I don't own Jingle Bells or Deck The Halls or their lyrics, either! Just thought I'd better add that in so nobody shoots me... And I tried for ten minutes to get the summary to read " 'Tis the season to be jolly..." but the stupid thing wouldn't let me. I bet someone'll point that out, so please don't hate me - I tried!)