A/N: The first of my two Christmas offerings. Originally written as an extra Jibbsfest entry for last year's Secret Santa in case of emergency; it's sat on my hard drive for a year until the festive season appeared again.
Mistletoe Woes
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not in a good mood. His favorite coffee shop had closed down for the holidays – it was only the twenty-third for crying out loud! Abby had spent the entire month begging and pleading for him to attend her Christmas party. He had given up glaring at her and was resorting to sending his team down whenever she wanted attention. And his evil ex-partner turned boss was trying to force him to attend the annual Christmas ball.
It wasn't that he was a Scrooge. He just wanted to spent the festive season on his own and remember times long past, times when he had his baby girl with him. He wanted to drink bourbon and work on his boat and forget about the world outside.
Ducky was about the only one who knew how to handle him at this time of year. His old friend never invited him for the Christmas Day meal he hosted for his friends. Instead, the ex-marine visited on Boxing Day and helped Ducky start on the leftovers. They mainly remained silent, except for the doctor relating tales of the previous day.
He liked his way of celebrating. On Christmas Day he remembered those no longer with him and on Boxing Day he spent time with an old friend.
But today was not a good day. His team, who knew from bitter experience that he would never allow them to slack off at this time of the year – or indeed never – had decided to avoid the squad room today. Not that he could blame them: he had been in a foul mood ever since his favorite redhead had refused to accept his plans for the season this year. Since they had got back together, she wanted him to spend Christmas Day with her. He wasn't sure how to explain what he wanted.
He punched the button for the evidence garage a little harder than usual. The elevator was taking its sweet time. He had just been to see Abby, who had stolen McGee, and the two of them were happily hacking into the CIA while simultaneously plotting the decorations for the squad room. There was a possibility he would need to warn Jenny…
Tony and Ziva had vanished a while ago and were no longer answering their cells. While they might not have an active case, he was still pissed they had forgotten Rule Three and was planning to headslap it into their heads the moment he caught them.
The joys of being the team leader.
The metal coffin finally shuddered to a halt and he slipped out the doors as they opened. And then he halted.
He had found his missing agents.
And mistletoe.
His initial thought involved shooting the pair of them where they stood. But he thought it was a little kind, considering they were breaking Rule Twelve into tiny pieces. And Jenny would force him to clean up the blood.
His second thought involved kicking Ziva back to Israel and filing the necessary paperwork to have Tony re-instated as an Agent Afloat by Christmas Day and haul him out to his new home himself. But then he decided Abby would kill him and dispose of the forensic evidence.
After all, she was a little fond of his team.
So he went for Option Number Three.
"DINOZZO!"
A few hours later, his mood had improved a little. DiNozzo and David were walking on eggshells around him, terrified he would slaughter them in the middle of the bullpen. DiNozzo was catching up on the piles of paperwork he owed; David had been supplying him with copious amounts of coffee whenever Gibbs so much as glanced in her general direction.
He had confiscated the mistletoe. And possibly threatened to castrate DiNozzo. He'd even pulled his knife out.
His own paperwork complete, and McGee now absent from the squad room for fear he would end up testifying in a murder trial, he decided to visit the Director.
And take the mistletoe with him.
Jennifer Shepard swept through her office door after a long day. Longer than expected – SECNAV had apparently forgotten the season and had insisted on a more thorough briefing than she had hoped for. Luckily she had been prepared.
The rest of the building had long since gone home, and hopefully only a few would be back over the next week. She suspected a certain silver-haired man would be in tomorrow, but she planned on spending the day in her study with casefiles.
Not the way she hoped to spend Christmas Day, but she was having problems persuading her lover to see her point of view. However, she was rapidly starting to agree that if he wanted to spend the day alone, he could. Maybe he just needed some space. There were plenty of other days they could spend together, plenty of time for them to form new memories and traditions of their own.
"Don't move."
She froze, her agent instincts kicking in. The room was dark, but she would recognize Jethro's voice anywhere. If only she had her gun…
"What's the problem?" Somehow she managed to keep her voice level.
He appeared out of the shadows and pointed lazily upwards. "Mistletoe."
She relaxed, started to giggle. "Plenty of time for that." She attempted to move towards her desk but he physically held her in place with his hands.
"Fancy going to Ducky's on Boxing Day?" he asked, his voice low.
She understood what he was trying to say; she knew about his traditional visit. The offer made her smile – perhaps he was starting to let her in. "Of course," she promised.
He glanced up at the mistletoe for a moment before bringing his lips to hers. Just as their kiss became more passionate, he pulled away.
She punched his arm lightly in protest.
"You still good at castration?"
She gave him a look which promised she'd show him exactly how good she was if he did not resume kissing her immediately.
"DiNozzo suggested you've put on weight."
Oh he was a dead man walking…