6:15 a.m.
Last night capped a hectic three weeks. First Marseille, then Gibbs' dad, and now, the Marine who decided to play Rambo against a Confederate militia set up outside of Fredericksburg.
Tony's reward for tackling Rambo was a day off and an order to stay home. Four hours ago, he fell asleep on his couch.
He woke up smelling pancakes and hearing noise in the kitchen. He jumped off the couch, pistol drawn, locked and loaded and ready as any groggy human being could be.
"FEDERAL AGENT!" Tony yelled, cautiously creeping towards the kitchen. "Hands in the air!"
When he got there, he did a double take.
Ziva stood over the burners on the range, flipping pancakes into the skillet; she wore a pink robe and pajama pants, wore a Bun In The Oven T-shirt underneath and very clearly had a bun in the oven.
"Tony, I thought I told you not to fall asleep to those court movies," Ziva said, nonplussed, as if Tony was like that every single morning. And, that they were married and she had a bun in the oven.
"Ziva?" was all Tony could say.
He was awake, but thought it might be a dream; Ziva walked over and pinched him, hard.
"OWWW!" he yelped. "What'cha do that for?... what're you doing here?"
Before Ziva could answer, both heard movement from Tony's bedroom; Ziva swiftly reached to her backside and pulled out a pistol in three seconds flat.
"Show yourself!" she yelled, and the woman obliged.
"Tony?" said the woman, dressed in a USC jersey and yoga pants and with had two kids in tow.
"Kate?" Tony said, incredulously.
"That's my name," Kate blurted, weapon pointing at Ziva. "Why is SHE here?"
They then heard movement in the living room.
Kate pulled out another weapon and ordered her kids to stay behind her, even as the seven-year-old boy ran to his daddy's side. Kate had one weapon drawn on Ziva and another on the woman in the living room.
"Tony?" said Jeanne Benoit, garbed in her hospital uniform, looking mightily confused.
"Stand down," Tony said to Pregnant Ziva and Kate With Two Kids, as he made his way to the living room.
He had no time to make sense of...this...before his apartment door opened.
"Tony! Gibbs wanted me to make sure you were...doing...okay?"
It was E.J. Barrett, and Tony had no idea where she went after they caught the Port to Port killer, much less why she'd be here in Washington. Or at his apartment.
"Tony? Honey?"
Ziva, Kate AND Jeanne looked at her, then him, then her...and him. Then they all looked at each other, and Tony, and each other. And Tony tried to figure out some kind of apology although he was sure he was having the Mother of All Dreams.
"McGee!" Ziva yelled, as a male ran past E.J. and Jeanne straight into Tony's arms, and kissed him on the cheek.
Tony's eyes bugged out and his jaw flew wide open.
"McGee?" said Kate, very surprised - like the others - at the sight. "Baby McGee?"
Probie looked like himself...eight years ago, buzzed head, cherub face, innocent disposition.
"Honey I heard the commotion and wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, before seeing Ziva, then drawing his gun.
"Honey?" Jeanne said in response to the scene. "Tony...are you cheating on me?"
"Like hell he is!" yelled another woman, whom all of them knew very well.
The raven-haired, pig-tailed goth flew past E.J. and pushed aside Jeanne and Baby McGee and wrapped her arms around Tony's neck, nearly choking him.
"Tony, Tony, Tony, you're alright!" Abby squealed. "Gibbs and McGee told me that guy tried to bodyslam you and Bishop said Gibbs had to tranquilize him-"
She stopped when Baby McGee tried to push her away.
"Leave him alone, Abby!" he pouted. "He's MINE—OWWWW"
The boy standing next to Tony kicked Baby McGee in the shin.
"Leave my daddy alone, Probie!" the boy shouted, as McGee hopped on his good leg and tried to nurse his shin.
"Who are you?" Abby said, finally noticing the boy – and the girl who joined him – and their mother.
"Kate?" Abby whispered. "But you're…you…you are—"
"My mommy!" the five-year-old girl said. "My name is Katie Ann DiNozzo!"
"And I'm Anthony DiNozzo the Third!" the boy said, proudly. "That's my mom. And this is my dad."
Abby looked as shocked and disbelieving of the scene as Tony himself.
Right then – as if on cue – a parade of men and women entered the apartment, starting with Paula Cassidy; Kensi Blye, whom Tony knew only by reputation; Holly Snow (!) whom he had met on a couple of cases; Wendy Miller, his ex-wife; a very fab Jimmy Palmer; and four people he never before met: a guy named Dean Winchester, a blond crime scene investigator named Calleigh Duquesne, a NYPD detective named Aiden Burn, and a former White House staffer named Donna Moss.
Amidst all the confusion, he thought of Kate, and Paula. And wondered what was up with Abby, and why Tim looked like Babyface Probie and what on earth the autopsy gremlin was wearing.
And, he thought of Ziva.
And the fish.
He put his gun in its holster, grabbed the bowl holding Kate and Ziva the goldfish, and ran out past the CSI and the detective to the street.
"Gibbs! Something really hinky's going on—" he yelled into the cell phone, then saw a well-dressed man step out of a Bentley, who looked like Gibbs.
"Tone," he said, smoothly and gently. "We'll figure this out—"
That sure has hell wasn't Gibbs.
"DINOZZO!"
But the man stepping out of the truck, in his jacket and shirt, sure as hell was. And McGee, Bishop and Abby there with him were a sight for sore eyes.
"Tony," said the real Gibbs. "We'll figure this out."
Tony was glad. He didn't need a room full of lovers right now; he needed family.