"Toy production is going well, everything is moving as expected, and we are right on schedule. But we have a problem," she said, looking up from where she'd been consulting her list. "A problem that you promised you would take care of, Tony."
He winced. "I… yeah, no."
Her mouth dropped open. "You have not told him?"
"It kinda got lost in the shuffle," Tony replied, grimacing. "So no, I haven't."
"He needs to know, before it becomes obvious to him that something is wrong!"
"Maybe it won't actually happen?" he asked.
She grabbed his wrist. "Tony do you not understand? If you do not tell him, then by the time he notices it may be too late! And you know what that means!"
He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay."
"You need to tell him."
"Nope," he said, removing her hand from his wrist. "We need to tell him."
"Tell me what, Tony?" came the voice from behind him, and he froze, before turning around.
"Oh. Hey boss. Didn't see you there. Uh…" He saw that Ziva was glaring at him. "We have something we need to tell you."
One of the younger elves ran up, and tugged on the boss's sleeve. "Santa, we have a problem in the bakery!"
He turned, gratified that he was being asked for help. "What's the problem, Ned?"
"One of the tables collapsed because someone put too much pound cake on it," Ned explained, giving Tony and Ziva a nervous look. "And may I say, Santa, how slim you look lately?"
"I'd thought I'd been droppin' pounds, but thanks Ned. Better go eat some of that pound cake… will it damage our quotas significantly?"
"No, Santa, we do need a new table though."
"I can do that," he said dismissively, as Ned walked off, before turning back to Tony and Ziva. "What was it ya wanted to tell me?" He looked between them. "That bad, huh?"
"We did not say-,"
"Ya didn't have to, Ziver, it's written all over your face." He sighed. "All right. What do you wanna talk to me about?"
"We should discuss this in private," Ziva said softly.
"If it's that bad, why didn't ya tell me before?"
"I didn't know how," Tony explained. "It's not good, boss."
He sighed, and opened the door, "All right. In my office. Let's go. Go." He closed the door, and looked expectantly at Tony and Ziva. "Whaddaya got?"
"Santa, you remember how you came to be here?"
"Yeah, the old Santa fell off my roof on Christmas, I put on the coat… somehow ended up here, never left. What else, Ziva?"
"Well there was the clause."
"I am the Claus, Ziva."
"No, boss, like the card," Tony explained. "The… contract. There was a second stipulation."
"That Tony somehow missed," Ziva said scathingly.
"Hey! This is no time for pointing fingers!" Tony retorted. "And I'm not a lawyer, anyone coulda missed it!"
Santa was watching them, eyebrows raised. "All right. What did Tony miss?"
"Hey! I-," he shut up when he saw him glaring. Feeling that if he opened his mouth again, he'd be on the naughty list for the next decade, he decided to keep his mouth shut.
Ziva pulled out the card from her pocket, where she'd obviously been waiting for the exact minute to hand it over. He looked at it, squinting. "I can't see a damn thing."
"Put your glasses on, boss," Tony muttered.
"Shall I fetch a magnifying glass?" Ziva offered at the same time.
He glared at both of them, before holding it out in front of him. He hated that his eyes were getting worse. "What does that say?"
"I can read it for you, boss," Tony offered, and then they knew the exact moment that he'd read the second stipulation. He looked it over for a second, brow creasing into an expression of frustration. And then he looked up at the two of them, glaring, his blue piercing both of them, and they squirmed under his angry gaze.
"I've gotta get married?" he demanded.
"Told you he'd be mad. You owe me ten bucks," Tony told Ziva.
"That is really not important right now," Ziva retorted.
"Married?" He dropped the card. "And what happens if I don't get married?"
"You stop being Santa."
"You need to find a wife by Christmas, Santa," Ziva said softly.
He dropped into his chair, shaking his head. "Lemme get this straight: I gotta find a wife in the next month or I stop being Santa? Ya can't be serious."
"It's called the Mrs. Clause," Ziva said, fixing him with a sad look.
"Boss, all you gotta do is go, find a woman and make her fall madly in love with you. Piece of cake!"
"Did ya forget the three times I already tried the whole marriage thing? Didn't exactly work, now did it Tony?"
"I wouldn't know boss, never met your wives. I mean, Diane keeps showing up on the naughty list – I think that's a little biased - and that was before you were Santa," Tony said. "Now is when it counts!"
"Tony, look at me. I'm not tossin' myself back into the game when I've only got thirty days! No one can fall in love in thirty days! And I can't leave the North Pole now!"
"Leave me in charge, boss."
"You cannot give up, Gibbs," Ziva said, and he flinched at the use of his real name. "You're the best Santa that the world has ever known!"
"Yeah? Well, maybe the world doesn't deserve a Santa," he mumbled, bitterly.
"That isn't true."
"Ya never met my wives… but… they don't deserve a Santa. Adults have done nothing to deserve Santa."
"Then don't think of the adults of the world. Think of the kids, boss," Tony said. "Just… think of the kids."
He grunted, annoyed, before looking up at them. "Tell me this: where the hell am I gonna find a woman who'll wanna marry me?"
XNCISX
Her hands were shaking as she fit her key into the lock, the gold 24 reflecting the fluorescent lights of the hallway, her bare front door looking austere and out of place in a hallway where every other occupant had placed a wreath on their front door. She finally succeeded in getting the door unlocked, pushing it open, sighing to herself as she lifted the bulging suitcases. "Go on, girls. You can go in." She set down one of the suitcases to flip the light switch.
She frowned when the light didn't go on. The bulb must have burnt out. She closed the door, trying to muster enough cheer for a smile, to reassure her poor nieces that everything was okay, but they'd already disappeared into the depths of the apartment. She leaned against the door, taking a deep breath.
"Auntie Kate!" Laura called, running back to her. "You haven't decorated your house yet!"
"I know, sweetie, but I have a whole month," she said, kneeling down so that she was at eye level. "Besides, this just means that you get to decorate with me! Won't that be fun?"
Laura nodded, giving her a sad look, before pulling her into a hug. "I love you, Auntie Kate."
"Laura!" came the call from Laura's twin. "Come play dolls with me!"
"Here," Kate said, pulling away. "How about I show you your room?"
Laura nodded, as Kate turned on a lamp, resolving to change the lightbulb once the girls were asleep. Elle blinked from where she'd been sitting on the couch in semi-darkness. "Auntie Kate?" she asked.
"I'm showing your room," Kate said. "C'mon, you'll like this." The girls followed her to the door to their temporary quarters, and she opened the door, flipping the light on. "Ta-da!" she said, grinning at them.
They both ran in, grinning, taking joy even from the simple quarters. Kate, leaning in the doorway and watching them, smiled, reminding herself to thank her co-workers who'd gotten the furniture in order on such short notice. It was just twin beds, a night stand between them, and a dresser, but the fact that it was all in the right place made her smile. She didn't deserve her co-workers.
Laura ran back, hugging Kate again, and Kate couldn't help but smile, running a hand over the little girl's hair.
The poor girls were only five, they didn't know what was going on. To them it all seemed like an extended vacation with their favorite aunt.
"Do you like it?" Kate asked. Elle was sitting cross-legged on the bed she'd staked out for herself, already pulling Barbie dolls out of her pink backpack. She looked up, dark eyes staring at Kate, her head tilted slightly, reminding Kate of Elle's father.
"I love it!" Elle promised. "Laura come play with me!"
"You can play with her while I get dinner," Kate offered.
"Auntie Kate?" she asked, pulling away.
"Yes?"
"When are we going home?"
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knelt down again putting her hands on Laura's shoulders. "I don't know sweetheart. But as soon as you can, okay? It's not so bad with me, is it?"
"No," Laura said, before pulling her into another hug.
"You don't mind sharing a room with your sister, do you?"
"We've always shared," Elle said, answering for her sister. "Always."
"Then I guess this is just like normal then. I'm going to go make dinner, so the two of you can play here while I'm in the kitchen, okay? The bathroom is right through that door."
Laura went to join her sister and Kate left them there, making her way into the kitchen. She leaned against the kitchen island, burying her head in her hands. How could she be expected to do this? Taking on two young girls at the busiest time of year?
She looked around the apartment which held little personal items other than furniture, despite her having lived there since before the twins had been born. And, as Laura had pointed out, it held no Christmas decorations either. She knew she owned Christmas decorations, but they were no doubt buried somewhere in storage.
She managed to barely stifle a bitter laugh as she considered her next move. Why should she decorate? What was the point?
When she thought of the Christmases of her youth, this was not how she remembered them. Not the all-consuming disillusionment. All she remembered was glittering Christmas lights reflected on powdery white snow, and a feeling of hope that nothing could destroy.
What had happened to her?
"Auntie Kate?"
She turned, a hand to her chest. "Elle! You scared me!"
"Are we going to get a Christmas tree, Auntie Kate?"
"Yes, of course, why wouldn't we?"
"Because there are no decorations up. At all," Elle said, looking upset. Kate took a deep breath, thinking that however temporary and precarious the situation was, she had to keep a front up for the girls. The three of them would have a Christmas together, no matter what.
"Are you hungry?"
"Kinda."
"In that case, I'll get right on ordering a pizza," Kate said. "And Elle?"
"Yes Auntie Kate?"
"Everything is going to be fine," she told her firmly.
Her niece gave her a skeptical look, one that made her look much older than her five years. "Okay."
Kate could only hope that she was right.
Dinner was a subdued affair, where the twins managed to extract the promise that they'd go hunting for a Christmas tree. "A real one," Laura had said, wide-eyed, "Or it doesn't count."
After putting them to bed, Kate had sat down on the couch, pulling a blanket around herself, and tried to conjure up even a glimmer of hope, staring at the Christmas lights hanging across the street, but all she could feel was empty. She wished, quite irrationally, that she could conjure up half the excitement about Christmas that her nieces possessed. It was all she could think to wish for.
XNCISX
"Jethro! Heavens, what are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, Duck, I woulda called but I didn't have a signal."
"Come in, come in!" Ducky ushered him inside. "What on earth is going on?"
"I'll explain, but first let me thaw out. I've been travelling for ages. My reindeer is in the back yard."
Ducky laughed. "What a marvellous surprise! Of course, come into the library. I've got a fire going in there. And please, Jethro, I would like an explanation, whenever you can provide it." He took his bag from him, setting it down by the sweeping staircase.
Gibbs followed him into the library, stopping in the hallway as he looked himself over in the mirror. He was completely skinny, without a beard, his hair in its typical Marine haircut. He shook his head, grimacing at his appearance. He'd never looked less like Santa, but perhaps it was for the best. As it was, he was too old to be appealing, never mind when he was jolly and bearded. He sank into a plush armchair right by the fire, groaning in relief as he held his hands to the blaze. Ducky sat down across from him, raising an eyebrow at him, so he started out with the truth. "I need to get married, Duck."
"Goodness. That is certainly not what I was expecting."
"I gotta find a wife by Christmas or I stop bein' Santa."
"No easy feat," Ducky said softly, watching him. "I assume that is why you look like your old self."
"Yeah," he ran a hand through his hair. "You could say that."
"And you need a place to stay while you are hunting down the future Mrs. Claus?" Ducky asked, catching on remarkably quick.
"Somethin' like that. Sorry for the short notice."
"Oh it is my pleasure, my friend. It has been so long…" Ducky smiled at him.
"You still working for NCIS?" Gibbs asked.
"Yes, and you don't have to tell me, I know you find it ghoulish." He took a sip of his tea, before fixing Gibbs with a look.
Gibbs, not in the mood for games, simply asked, "What?"
"You've surprised me, Jethro," Ducky said, setting his tea cup down in his saucer. "I never took you for a very sentimental man. Being Saint Nick must mean a lot to you, if you are willing to get married to continue with your job."
"I didn't want to, when I first found out," he said, almost to himself. "Thought so what if I stop bein' Santa? I've seen so many bad things… it's hard to imagine the world deservin' a Santa."
"So why?"
"Because of the kids, Duck. I've seen adults do all kinds 'a shitty stuff to each other. But not kids. They still deserve a Santa. I've always liked kids."
"Jethro, that stance is admirable. But how do you plan on finding a wife? I do have some friends close to your age… I could try and..?"
"Nah, Duck, I'll figure somethin' out. Convinced four women to marry me, didn't I?"
"You were younger then. More foolish," Ducky chuckled. "You didn't have anything to lose back then, Jethro."
"Duck, I need a place to stay, but if it's too much trouble…?"
"No, Jethro, the least I can do is help you. I do have a three-year-old granddaughter who would be absolutely devastated if there was no more Santa Claus. I will warn you though, I will be busy with work."
"You're busy this time of year?"
"It may be a season of peace on earth, but goodwill towards men is nonexistent," he said, chuckling to himself.
"Humans are bastards," Gibbs said, summing it up nicely.
"They rely on my expertise, so I am afraid I will not be around much. You are welcome to my home though."
"You're a lifesaver, Duck."
"Well I do have to consider what is at stake," Ducky said. "The happiness of the world's children and all."
"When you put it like that… makes me want a drink."
"Does Santa drink?" Ducky asked.
Gibbs laughed to himself. "It still amazes me that ya actually believe me."
"And why shouldn't I?" Ducky asked, smiling at him. "Seeing is believing, my dear friend. And do keep in mind, I speak to the dead on a regular basis."
"Any of them talk back?"
"Not yet," Ducky said. And then he frowned. "Jethro, if this is a busy time of year for me, it's surely insanity for you! How… How will the North Pole run without you?"
"I left Tony in charge," Gibbs said.
Ducky scoffed, having met Tony on more than one occasion. "Dear me, Jethro, there will be no Pole to return to if Anthony is in charge."
"He'll be fine. 'Sides. Ziva is keepin' an eye on him."
Ducky simply shook his head. "And they approve of your plan?"
"Little else they can do. It's either that or no Santa."
"It sounds desperate."
Gibbs laughed, looking around the library. "Duck, ya know why I became Santa. I can't stop. Not for the kids… and not for me. Just don't know how I'm gonna convince a woman in thirty days to spend the rest of her life with me."
"Jethro, as one of your oldest friends, I advise you: be yourself."
"An' what am I supposed to say? Hi there sweetheart, my name is Jethro, but I also go by Santa, and by the way we need to get married ASAP or Santa Claus ceases to exist?"
"I have the utmost faith in you, Jethro."
"I can't make a woman give up the life she might lead just to come live in a frozen wasteland with me surrounded by people who are too happy all the time."
"You sound like my nephew," Ducky said with a smile.
"Oh, yeah, did he live in the North Pole?"
"No, he lived in Canada," he said, grinning. "Jethro, there must be a woman out there for you."
"She'd hafta be pretty special…"
XNCISX
If this was Christmas, Kate wasn't sure she liked it. Cheesy Christmas songs were blaring over the loud speaker, the strings of bare lightbulb strung up over the tree lot flickered occasionally like the set for a horror movie and there was bare dirt beneath her feet instead of snow. It felt like the scene in any Christmas movie that no director ever dared show.
But the twins had wanted a Christmas tree so here they were. Never mind that a Christmas tree would die, and it was only temporary, and would be kicked to the curb soon enough anyway…
She shook her head, unable to hear herself over the tinny sounds of Jingle Bell Rock, as she bent over to retrieve a mitten that Elle had lost in a candy cane-fuelled burst of Christmas joy, thanks to the owner of the tree farm who Kate knew was lurking nearby, hoping to swindle as much money as he could for a dead bundle of needles that Kate would have to vacuum up come January.
She stopped dead in her track, clutching the mitten to her chest, wondering again when she'd become so disenchanted by Christmas.
"Auntie Kate! Auntie Kate!" Laura called, and she followed the sound of her niece's voice through the rows of trees that stood as silent soldiers, only to find her in front of the scrawniest tree.
She started laughing. "Laura, sweetie, this is the tree you want?"
"It's so sad-looking, Auntie Kate. We should give it a home."
"Honey, it's a tree, not a puppy." She saw her niece's face fall, and knelt down, putting her hands on Laura's shoulders. "Sweetie, how about you and Elle get to have this tree in your room, and then we have a big one out in the living room? How does that sound?"
"You mean Elle and I get our own tree?" she asked, her eyes going wide, and Kate tried to hide her smile. She'd clearly earned good auntie points for suggesting that. "To put things on and everything?"
"Absolutely." If she had been merely guessing at a solution before, the look of pure joy on Laura's face sealed the deal. "You get your own ornaments and everything."
"Really?" she asked, and then looked around frantically for her twin. "Elle! Elle! We get our own Christmas tree!"
Ellie stuck her head out from between two branches, and Kate bit back a sigh at the thought of trying to get needles and sap off of her jacket, and then Elle frowned when she saw the tree. "It's so… small."
Seeing that Laura did not appreciate the insults being levelled at her special (admittedly scrawny) tree, Kate cut her off as she opened her mouth. "Elle honey, this is for your room. It's a very special tree that was made to fit into your room, because you see all these big trees? They wouldn't fit. They'd take up too much room! And then you wouldn't be able to stay in there!"
Elle considered it for a second, then nodded. "Okay. But we get to decorate it?"
"Yes. You definitely get to decorate it."
"Good!" She clapped her hands.
"Glad you approve."
Laura looked up at her. "We're getting it?"
"Yes, Laura, we're getting the little tree for the two of you." She hoped that the tree salesman wouldn't laugh at the scrawny little tree, because it would hurt Laura's feelings. "And you know what? I have a movie we can watch tonight that you might like."
"What movie?" Laura asked.
"A Charlie Brown Christmas," Kate said, grinning. Looking at the tree, she only hoped it would hold more than a single ornament, or she would be in trouble with both of the twins, not just Laura.
"Does the tree have a name, Auntie Kate?" Laura asked.
"Do you think it should have a name?" she returned, not sure how to answer otherwise.
"Hmmm…" Laura pondered it for a minute, before looking at Kate and grinning. "I think his name should be Oscar!"
"Why Oscar?" Elle asked. "Like the grouch?"
"Yeah! Because he's green!"
Kate started laughing at the logic. "All right. Oscar it is." She started looking around for the tree salesman but he seemed to have disappeared. "Girls," she said, getting another idea. "Do the two of you want some hot chocolate?"
"Yes!" Laura said, and started walking, but stopped in her tracks. "Wait, what if somebody else tries to buy Oscar?"
"No one else is gonna buy him Laura, he's too small!" Elle said.
Kate glared at her, and then said to Laura. "Look, the hot chocolate booth is right there. You can see Oscar from the booth, okay? We're not letting anyone else take him home. Not after you've named him." And gotten attached to a goddamn tree. Only in my family, she thought grimly as the girls excitedly followed her to the hot chocolate booth.
The woman running it smiled at her. "Hello!"
"Hi," Kate said. "Three hot chocolates, please."
"And would these lovely young elves like candy canes in theirs?"
"We're not elves!" Elle complained.
"We're girls!"
The cashier smiled at them. "Really? I thought the two of you were Santa's helpers. Y'know, I only give candy canes to Santa's helpers."
The two girls exchanged a look before giving her their biggest and friendliest grins. "We're elves!" they said together.
Kate started laughing, and handed over the money, dropping five dollars in the tip jar. "Thanks. Has it been busy today?"
"No, not very," the cashier said thoughtfully. "Usually it would be, but it isn't generally busy on Sundays. Most people are in church."
Elle, who hadn't really been listening to the conversation until then, chimed in. "Why aren't we in church, Auntie Kate?"
"Because we're on a special Christmas tree mission."
Laura frowned. "Will the pope be mad at us?"
"I'm sure the pope understands," she mumbled, handing the girls their hot chocolates. "C'mon, let's find a big tree to keep Oscar company."
XNCISX
Gibbs rubbed his hands together, regretting that he'd forgotten to wear gloves. He'd spent too long in the North Pole, and thought he was accustomed to winter. Turns out he'd forgotten the miserable cold, the kind that settled into one's bones regardless of any magic they possessed. Ducky had been lost to the trees and was no doubt waxing poetic to one of the evergreens. From his years of being a medical examiner, Ducky had developed the uncanny knack of carrying on a perfectly normal conversation, regardless of whether or not the things he spoke to were sentient. Gibbs had gotten used to it over time, but still found it mildly unsettling when he'd walked in to find Ducky conversing with the fireplace as he struggled to light a fire.
And yet, Gibbs was grateful for him, for it took a very peculiar man to believe Gibbs and his outlandish story. It was a special kind of madness and Gibbs appreciated it in his oldest friend. As he kept searching through the tree farm, trying to find both a good Christmas tree and Ducky, he found little success in finding either. He had an eye for detail, necessary for a former sniper and vital to Santa Claus.
He stopped in place, looking through the trees, only to feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned around slowly, suddenly aware that he was being watched. Sticking his hands casually in his pockets as he saw the eyes staring at him through the needles, he grinned. "Ya can come out now," he said.
And then there was a little girl sneaking through the trees towards him. "Santa?" she asked.
He grinned, as he always did when kids recognized him. He stared at her, the brown curls pinned back from her face with green barrettes, looking like a marshmallow in her puffy winter coat, her brown eyes clear. He had to because of his job, but he really did prefer kids to adults. "Hey Elle," he said softly.
Her eyes went wide. "You know my name?"
"Of course. I know everyone's name, I'm Santa. Where's your sister?" he asked, for he knew somewhere in the back of his brain that Elle Todd had a sister named Laura.
"She's still hiding," Elle informed him. "She's scared of you."
"Of me? Why?"
"Because you don't look like Santa. Why don't you have a beard? And why aren't you fat?" Elle asked, and he hid a smile.
"I'm on a little vacation, so I shaved. I'll look normal for Christmas, I promise. Now tell me, Elle, have you an' Laura been good girls?"
"We tried to be," Elle said.
"Then that's all that matters. Laura, ya don't hafta be scared. You can come out."
The other girl, Elle's twin, stepped out from behind the tree, looking identical to her sister except for the red barrettes in her hair as opposed to green. She walked over slowly, as though she didn't believe that it was really him. "Are you really Santa?"
"Dontcha believe in me, Laura?"
"Of course!"
He grinned. "Then don't ya know me?"
She nodded, slowly. "Yeah."
"What do the two of ya want for Christmas?" he asked, softly, wondering if it would be something like dolls or if it would be a puppy. He was sure he'd heard it all by now.
Laura looked down at the ground, clasping her hands tightly together. "We want to see our daddy," she said.
"That's what ya want?" he asked, looking at her. And he suddenly wondered exactly what the situation with their parents were. Why were they running around unaccompanied in DC of all places? Surely they had a guardian? "Not to see your mom?"
"She's gone," Elle said, looking so sad it hurt him. Damn him, he was going soft in his old age! "We just want our daddy back."
"If that's what ya want, you'll get it. Just keep being good girls, ya got that?"
Elle nodded, and then Laura threw her arms around his neck. He smiled and patted her on the back, before she pulled away. "I will always believe in you, Santa," she told him, serious.
"Thank you, Laura."
"Me too!" Elle said, crossing her arms. He grinned at the two of them, but then looked up as he heard the voice nearby.
"Laura! Elle!" It was a woman's voice, tinged with panic. Their mother? No, she was gone. But then who? "Girls! Where are you?"
"Right here!" Elle called back.
"Girls," he said, and they both turned to look at him. "Can ya keep my secret? Nobody here is supposed to know I'm Santa."
"But we know!" Elle protested.
"We won't tell," Laura said, for once speaking out as opposed to her sister. Elle nodded, as the source of the voice drew nearer, and then appeared through the trees.
He stood up from where he was kneeling, and was surprised as he stared at her. Her hair was pulled back, and tucked beneath a beanie, though he could see wisps of brown hair framing her face. Her brown eyes were wide and expressive, and – his eyes weren't failing him quite yet – he could see the haphazard freckles across her cheeks and nose, lending her a youthful look, though her brow was furrowed with worry. She was wearing a puffy jacket that hid her shape and green wool mittens that matched her hat. And maybe it was just because she was just the first woman he'd seen, that he'd really noticed, who wasn't an elf, but god, she was beautiful.
"Who are you, and what are you doing talking to my nieces?" she demanded.
"Your nieces?" he asked, looking at the girls, who grinned back at him, the picture of innocence, and he knew he could trust them to keep his secret. "The ones you let wander around a busy tree farm unsupervised?"
It may have just been the cold, but he watched her blush. And then she squared her shoulders. "They weren't unsupervised, and it's not at all busy. They wandered off when my back was turned as I was trying to buy us Christmas trees."
"Well, maybe ya should teach them not to talk to strangers."
"And maybe you shouldn't encourage them," she retorted. "I don't know who you are, but where I come from, grown men – especially strangers – talking to little girls sets off alarm bells for me."
"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he said, holding out a hand. "There. Now we're not strangers."
"I'm still not comfortable with you talking to my nieces."
"And I'm not comfortable with guardians who can't properly watch their kids," he said with a smirk, his mouth moving faster than his brain, unsure of why he was saying such things to the poor woman. No doubt she had enough on her plate.
"Are you a genius in child-rearing now, Mr. Gibbs?" she asked.
"I've probably raised more kids than ya, if that's what you're askin', Miss…?"
"I didn't ask," she said, pointedly ignoring his attempts to learn her name, before grabbing the hands of the girls. "But thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, we have to go."
"Well I'd hate to needle ya," he said, grinning. "But I do happen to be an expert on kids."
She turned and glared in his general direction. "Perfect. If I need more unnecessary and unsolicited opinions on child-rearing, I'll know who to call."
"I'll hold you to that!" he called to her retreating back, grinning to himself. He watched her walk away, and sighed, shaking his head. Just because he needed to find a wife in a month, didn't mean he had to pick the very first woman he saw. No doubt there would be other, more friendly women out there, who didn't insult him.
Sure, he was a bastard, but he'd been married before. He started wandering back through the trees, trying to find Ducky among the fragrant needles, wondering if the North Pole was still functioning without him… He came upon his friend quite suddenly, or rather, found him talking to a tree.
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep… and miles to go before I sleep," Ducky said softly.
"Really, Duck, you're talkin' to trees now?" he asked.
"Ah! Hello Jethro! I do believe that this evergreen beauty is the one for us!"
"See if you're sayin' that in a week when you're pickin' needles outta the carpet," Gibbs said, but he grinned.
"Oh, but my dear Jethro, I will not be the one picking needles from the carpet. I leave that to you, and your younger back, my friend."
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks, Duck."
"Can't you just picture it, Jethro?" Ducky said. "This tree… in the study, fully decorated, with presents underneath…"
"Yeah, Duck, I can."
"Do you think we've found what we were looking for, Jethro?"
"Yeah… I think I did."