Title: Surprise, Surprise
Author: MindyHarmon
Rating: G
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No Copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Gibbs thinks birthdays aren't important. His team proves him wrong -- for once. Kibbs overtones.
Jethro Gibbs woke on the day of his fiftieth birthday with a gut-level sense of failure. There was no warm and wonderful body beside him in bed to kiss him good morning. There was no gaggle of kids to burst in and jump on the bed. There were no early morning phone calls from relatives to catch him before he went to work and wish him a happy day. There were no whispers of surprises, no boxes wrapped in red and blue and gold, and no hope that this day would be different to any other.
For the past few weeks – hell, months and years – he'd known this day was approaching and kidded himself that it was just another day, it didn't mean anything. He would not allow himself to give it more importance than it deserved. Another year had passed and he was a year older; that was all.
Nevertheless, he showered and dressed more swiftly that morning to escape his empty house. Picking up a coffee and bagel on the way, he'd inhaled the bagel in the car and strode into work, coffee cup in hand, as though nothing were wrong with his heart.
-xxxxxx-
Kate Todd could hear her phone ringing as she stepped off the elevator. She made a dash for her desk, seeing that McGee and Tony were already in. McGee spoke on his phone while Tony sat back in his chair, eating a donut and reading a magazine.
"Thanks Tony!" she snapped, rounding the corner and grabbing the receiver.
"Thought you didn't want me answering your phone anymore," Tony protested irritated, as she made a face at him and said her name into the phone.
"Kate? Abby," came the voice from the other end.
"Hey, Abby, what's up?" she sighed, taking off her coat and coming around to sit in her chair.
"It's Gibbs' birthday, that's what," she answered, sounding a little panicky.
"Today?" Kate asked, watching with disgust as icing sugar dropped from Dinozzo's mouth to his shirt.
"Yes, today, what are we gonna do?" asked the lab tec urgently.
"Well…what do you usually do?" Kate asked, her mind only half on the conversation, as she began to go through her mail.
Abby took a breath and calmed a little: "Well, mostly we just kind of ignore it altogether – like last year it was in the middle of that swamp murder case…"
"Uh huh…"
"Although, once we did manage to trick him into coming paint-balling with us," Abby continued.
Kate put down her mail; were they nuts? Gibbs….paintballing? "What happened?"
"He hated it," Abby stated, flatly.
"I'm not surprised," mumbled Kate, her brow creasing.
"He killed us all within minutes," she added and Kate couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Well, he is a marine," she pointed out.
"So….what are we gonna doooo?" Abby moaned.
"Why ask me?" Kate shrugged, at a loss.
"C'mon, Kate, you think McGee and Tony are gonna be any help?" she asked doubtfully.
Kate looked across at them. Tony was slurping loudly on his soft drink while McGee had finished his phone conversation and was busy cleaning his computer keyboard with a cotton-tip.
She sighed: "Okay, then…why don't we just ask him? See what he says to dinner?"
"Ooo, good plan," enthused Abby: "Go with that – let me know how it works out." And with that, the line went dead:
"Ab--?"
"Problem?"
She looked up and Gibbs was standing at her desk, looking down at her.
"Ah, no…" she stumbled – how did he manage to sneak up on a person like that?
He started towards his desk and, summoning up her courage, she stood and said his name. He turned and looked at her expectantly. She darted looks to McGee and Tony who were watching her with interest.
"Something to say?" Gibbs asked, shifting slowly on the spot.
She took a big breath: "Umm…" and stepped closer.
"Yes?"
"Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?" she asked simply. She gave him a little smile and tried to ignore the sound of Tony choking violently in the background. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at her and shifted again.
After a long pause, he said, trying to keep his voice down: "With you?"
Kate averted her eyes, briefly: "Well, with me, Abby, Ducky, and the two amigos over there."
Gibbs turned on his heel, moving to his desk: "Why would I want to do that?"
Kate took up her usual spot in front of his desk and watched him take off his coat: "Because it's your birthday and your friends want to take you out and show you some fun."
"How'd you know it was my birthday?" he looked at her, displeased.
"Abby told me," she shrugged.
"How'd Abby know?" Gibbs pressed, leaning down to switch on his computer and peering up at her. Obviously he'd forgotten about the paint-balling incident.
"Come on, Gibbs, it's not like it's a state secret," she glanced to the side and re-thought that statement: "…is it?"
"No," he replied, firmly: "but I don't like birthdays."
"How old are you?" she asked, a smile starting on her face. It's not like she couldn't guess.
Gibbs glared at her dangerously, a warning in his voice: "I don't like birthdays," he repeated and continued to make his point: "I don't like birthday parties, birthday dinners, birthday surprises, birthday presents or birthday cards. Are we clear, Agent Todd?"
Kate nodded once, disappointed: "Clear."
Gibbs dropped down in his chair but couldn't ignore her presence still standing at his desk: "What?"
"How about birthday cake?" she blurted, impulsively.
"Kate!" he exclaimed, exasperated.
"Come on, Gibbs, no one can hate birthdays, not really," she wheedled.
Gibbs rose again and headed for the filing cabinet by Tony's desk, as Kate trailed behind:
"Look, you don't have to tell us how old you are," she continued, adding under her breath: "Not that we couldn't find out…"
Gibbs turned, looking at her with a raised eyebrow; and she tried to look apologetic. He retrieved a file and headed back to his desk, Kate still hot on his heels.
"-- but come out to dinner," she insisted: "it'll be fun. We won't give you presents or make a big deal of it, and you can sulk and drink as much as you want."
"I don't sulk," he stated, now digging through the filing cabinet behind his desk.
"Of course not," Kate agreed quickly.
"And I don't get drunk," he said with a stronger tone, turning and glaring at her.
"I meant coffee," she shrugged, innocently.
Gibbs sighed loudly and shut the drawer of the cabinet. Propping an arm on it, he leaned into her: "Look, Kate, I'd really rather not," he admitted, quietly.
Kate held his gaze for a moment, falling silent.
"Okay…" she then nodded, putting her hands out to the side in an 'I-give-up' gesture. "Okay…" she repeated, stepping away from him and heading back to her desk. "Yeah…that's fine," she muttered, taking her seat and tucking herself into her desk. "You should just go home….work on your boat like you do every night," she continued on, distractedly: "….eat the same old take-out you eat every night…" -- she kept her eyes on the contents of her mail, though it was hardly what she was focused on. She could feel Gibbs glaring at her and swallowed: "…drink the same old coffee you drink every night…" She swiveled in her chair to face him: "And we – we'll go out," she waved a hand at the other two agents who were still watching the little scene with trepidation: "We'll have good food, good wine, good conversation," she glanced at Tony and amended: "– some of us anyway--" She turned back to Gibbs, who was no longer glaring at her but trying to ignore her. The clenching of his jaw betrayed him though and Kate triumphed silently and finished him off: "And we'll drink a toast to you….all alone…in your basement."
He turned to her, with narrowed eyes: "Do you think I don't know what you're doing?"
She shrugged and tried to look innocent: "What am I doing?"
"I've had three wives, Kate," he reminded her: "I know what reverse psychology is."
"Oh," she looked down, feigning disappointment, then stood, quickly and crossed the floor: "Is it working?" she screwed up her nose and grinned at Gibbs as she passed.
"McGee," she asked, approaching the other agent's desk and making sure her voice was still loud enough for Gibbs to hear:"can you make a booking at that Japanese restaurant, what's it called…?"
"I believe your thinking of, ah, Rati Sari." McGee said, helpfully.
"It's Ratu Sari, Probie and that's Indonesian," Tony chimed in: "No, Kate means…what's-it-called-what's-is-called?" he flicked his forehead with one finger: "Saka something, Sakakutie?"
"No that's not it," she muttered, facing Tony and leaning her hip against McGee's desk.
"Sakani?" McGee guessed, with a pout.
"Osaka?" Kate murmured: "Osumi? O…Otori?"
"Tokumi?" Tony continued: "Tomuki? Kimuto?"
The three of them mulled and murmured over one another, making sounds, and dancing around the ones they were after -- until Gibbs finally put an end to the racket and silenced them:
"Sosumi," he stated, calmly, from his desk.
Tony grinned at Kate – he'd been enjoying the triple act.
Kate refrained – just: "Sosumi," she repeated, turning to McGee: "Tonight, say…8 o'clock? Good for you, Tony?"
"Perfect, Caitlin," he replied, in his most polite voice, as he leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the spectacle.
"On it, Agent Todd," McGee nodded, obediently and picked up his phone. He paused: "For how many?"
Kate crossed her arms, turning towards Gibbs, with an expectant smile and a challenge in her eyes. He stood, and made his way slowly to McGee's desk, while all three watched him. Leaning around Kate, he dropped a file onto the desk, with a mild slap and said, quietly to the younger agent:
"Six, McGee."
Kate smiled smugly and Gibbs turned and faced her:
"Don't you have some work to do?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Mm hmm," she nodded, unable to hide her glee.
"Go do it," he ordered.
"Okay," she grinned and strode back to her desk. Gibbs left to speak briefly to another agent and she took the opportunity to make a quick call.
"Abby? – Kate," she said, when she picked up: "Success!"
"Excellent!" Abby replied over the line.
"Dinner, tonight at eight -- Gibbs' favorite restaurant. Let Ducky know, okay? Oh! – and…" she grinned, naughtily: "Could you organize a cake?"
-xxxxxx-
The following Wednesday, Kate was at her desk, looking at the photos she'd taken on the night of Gibbs' birthday, when the man himself walked in, coffee in hand.
"Kaaate," he greeted in that way he had that made her want to ask him to repeat her name over and over.
"Gibbs," she nodded in return, wondering if he ever noticed the slight lisp she had when she said his name.
Gibbs took his seat and began to check his email while she flicked through the images with a grin.
It had been a great night, despite Gibbs' reservations. They'd been able to get a small but private function room to themselves, enclosed by rice paper walls and scattered with cushions to kneel on. She remembered Abby's delighted cry at the exotic surroundings as she looked at the first photo of her lying on the cushions being worshipped and attended to by McGee and Tony. The next had her and McGee playing the same game with Tony in the lead, his eyes half-closed like a smug cat.
That had been before Gibbs had arrived. When he had, with Ducky, Abby had gone to him immediately with a hug and Kate had taken a photo of the two of them, Abby's arms around his neck and Gibbs' hand resting lightly on her waist, a small smile on his face. He had not allowed many photos of himself that night, but there was another of him and Ducky, deep in conversation over some old case, as they sampled the sake.
Another that she did not know had been taken was of her and Gibbs sitting side by side on the floor, her face turned up toward him as he drew imaginary diagrams on the tabletop. She had no knowledge of the photo being taken at the time but if she recalled correctly, he was explaining to her just how exactly he planned on gettinghis boat out ofthe basement when he'd completed it.
She lingered on that one for a while; something about the total absorption they had in each other at that moment, something about the way he leaned into her slightly, something about the way she saw herself looking at him with a light in her eyes, made her wonder.
Flicking to the next photo, there was a sweet one of Abby and McGee and a not so sweet one of herself with Tony, him making a 'v' behind her head with his fingers while she was caught mid-sentence telling him off. The next showed her and Abby, their arms about each others shoulders and big smiles on their faces. There was one of Tony and Abby thumb-wrestling and of McGee looking dubious and wary of a particularly disgusting-looking dish of octopus while Ducky bravely cut into it.
And the final was of the entire group – the kimono-dressed waitress had taken it for them -- Gibbs was flanked by her and Abby, an arm about each of them, while Ducky, Tony and McGee knelt behind, everyone smiling.
She stood, on impulse, taking the last photo and stepping over to Gibbs' desk. He looked up.
"I thought you might like this," she said, handing the photo across.
He took it and looked at it. "Humph!" he laughed a little and she smiled as he examined it briefly.
"It was a good night," he admitted and her smile grew.
"Yeah, it was," she agreed softly.
He nodded and met her eyes: "Thanks." He pocketed the photo.
"Sure," she shrugged and returned to her desk.
Tony and McGee arrived at the same time, bickering as always and Tony immediately spotted the photos and pounced on them.
"Ha ha! Coooool," he commented.
"Tony, could you not get your fingerprints all over them?" she whined, as McGee peered over her shoulder.
"Let me see," he grumbled.
Gibbs' phone rang and, one by one, the younger agents silenced and turned to hear his half of the conversation. He glanced amusedly, at their expectant faces as he spoke into the receiver.
"Grab the gear," he announced when he'd hung up and watched them jump into action with a little smile; they loved this part of the day as much as he did. They headed out quickly and the photos on Kate's desk were left scattered and forgotten till another time.
-xxxxxx-
Gibbs stood in his basement, in his sweats, holding the photo that Kate had given to him that morning. He was starting to revise his opinion on birthdays. There had been precious little to celebrate growing up in the Gibbs household, and as a boy, birthdays were usually an awkward, disappointing affair that he soon learnt to disconnect from.
The night at Sosumi had been neither. There was nothing awkward about the genuine warmth with which he was greeted when he entered. There was nothing disappointing about the company he kept that night. And he would have to be dead to disconnect from the small team that had become his lifeline.
He stared one by one at the faces surrounding him in the photograph and carefully placed his thumb over Kate's chest in the photo.
Mmm, yes, his Katie – from the very beginning, she'd never shied away from speaking her mind. She'd never been afraid to reach out to him, never been afraid to challenge him on something, never been afraid to say what the others wouldn't.
He considered that a moment and then corrected himself; perhaps she was afraid – he did his best to instill in his crew the proper amount of trepidation – but she didn't let that get in her way. She said what needed to be said. And he thought that he admired that brave honesty more that he valued blind obedience.
He remembers at the end of the night how she'd run up to him as they were all leaving. He'd reached his car and was about to get in when her voice reached him from across the car park. He'd turned as she bounded up to him, her hair flying about her face, her cheeks pink with the cold. She'd landed in front of him with all the elegance of a ten year old, her breath coming out in puffs of mist.
She had something for him, she'd said – not a birthday present, she'd clarified; just something she'd picked up one day in Norfolk, because it reminded her of him. It had been sitting in her car ever since.
He looked down and her palm uncurled, something glinting in the centre of it, but he couldn't see what. She offered it to him and he picked it up, his fingers brushing her hand. Holding it up to the light, he could see it was a tiny bottle on a keychain and inside the bottle was a boat. A ship, a tiny, magnificent tall ship.
'Huh,' he'd said, or something equally uninspiring to the thoughtful little present, and Kate had asked if he liked it. He can't recall what he'd said but he doubted that he told her that it was one of the most special things he'd ever received, even though it was.
She'd smiled up at him, hesitating slightly – and it occurred to him now that she'd perhaps wanted to give him a kiss. On the cheek, probably. Instead she'd just said a bubbly: 'Happy Birthday, Gibbs,' and run back to her car, exclaiming over how cold it was to Abby, who was waiting with the motor running.
He'd walked around with the little trinket in his pocket for a few days. Each time he put his hand in, he could feel it sitting there, at the bottom. Finally, he took it out and hung it on the key rack in his kitchen, where it still was.
His little birthday celebration wouldn't have happened if not for her. Two years ago, his little team had been fledgling, but since he'd had Katie on his side, they'd gone from strength to strength and now with McGee completing their unit, they were the strongest team at NCIS, and there were no others he would rather work or be associated with.
He pulled a thumb tack out of the notice board that hung above his workbench, covered mostly with blue prints, newspaper clippings from cases and one or two pictures of sentimental value. And he carefully added this to the mix. He smiled, staring at the gaggle of bright faces in the photo.
He didn't know how he'd managed it, he realized with considerable surprise, but after years of trying and failing with three separate wives, he'd somehow managed to create the family he'd always wanted and longed for.
There was Ducky, who was like the cool older cousin, always one step ahead in terms of life experience, but not above laughing at the mistakes you made.
There was Abby, the flirty, quirky girl next door who seemed born knowing about men, women, you, herself, and everything -- and impressed you with her secrets and her mystery.
There was Kate and Tony, the squabbling siblings he never had, when he'd longed for something as a child to break the oppressive silence.
And McGee, the poor relation, whose primary function was to be dumped upon – for his own edification of course – but, who, at the same time, was probably the most fiercely protected by all of them.
They were a motley crew, he admitted it, but they meant more to him than he would ever show. That was just his way and they knew it.
He shoved up his sleeves and turned toward his boat. Life didn't always turn out the way you hoped as a kid. Neither did it turn out the way you feared. Some things just came in different packages.
He had a boat and he had a family. Neither were what he'd imagined when he was young but both of them were loved.
All he needed now was his own dog….Well -- maybe when he retired.
He took a sip of coffee, glancing one last time at the new image on his notice board, and smiled to himself; all things considered, turning fifty was really not that bad.