I'd like to give my self a pat on the back for finally finishing this story and a head slap for finishing it a year after I had the idea. It's a Thanksgiving themed one shot that's also a prequel to "The Slow Day and the iPod."

A/N: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. I just like to play with them.

"Boss, do we really have to do this?" Tony whined as he stepped around a pothole in the dusty road.

"Well, DiNozzo, there's a dead marine. It's our job. What do you think?" Gibbs replied sarcastically from the front of the group.

Ziva smirked at Tony and skipped past him to join Gibbs. McGee puffed along at the rear, carrying all of the necessary but heavy equipment.

Tony groaned. He hated this. Why did the marine have to get murdered at a poultry farm? And why the night before Thanksgiving? Now the whole team was stuck investigating instead of using the day to relax and eat.

Tony snorted. Investigating. They weren't investigating - they were marching. Gibbs had been leading them up the long, windy road for almost an hour. He claimed that it was because the noises from the trucks might upset the animals and hamper the investigation, but Tony didn't believe him.

He huffed and sped up until he had caught up with Gibbs and Ziva.

Gibbs stopped abruptly at the top of the hill. Tony stopped behind and gazed at him, panting, as Gibbs made an announcement.

"Alright. We're standing on the top of Tumble Hill at the Madison Family Poultry Farm."

"We can see than, Boss," Tony said, setting his gear down.

Gibbs ignored him and continued. "Last night Sergeant James Lockman was reported to be dead at this farm. The tipster didn't give his exact location. So, we're going to search this entire farm until we find him."

"What?" McGee protested. "That'll take all day. No one wants to spend their holiday like that."

"I know. That's why it's just the four of us. No one else would come out for this," Gibbs said. He ignored the protests of his agents and continued, "And we can't call Ducky or Palmer out until we've actually found the body. So, if any of you plan to be home in time for kickoff and turkey, I suggest that we get started. McGee, you're with me. We're taking the north side of the farm. Tony and Ziva, you take the south."

Tony groaned and swung his bag back on before racing to catch up with Ziva, who was already halfway down the hill. It was going to be a long day.

A few hours later, Tony and Ziva had covered half of their search area without any luck. Gibbs and McGee hadn't found the body either. With every passing hour, Tony felt his chance of watching the game and eating sinful amounts of delicious food slipping away from him.

Tony was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he had almost caught up with Ziva. He blinked. This was strange. Ziva was normally much faster than him, especially on days like today when he was hungry. He jogged the final ten yards to meet her.

"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, what's with the hold up?"

Ziva did not answer. She stood silently with a tense stare fixed ahead of her. "Quiet," she whispered to Tony. "We do not want to alarm them."

"Them…" Tony trailed off. He looked up and saw what Ziva was talking about.

It was a huge flock of turkeys. Dozens of them. Tony couldn't count how many. What he could tell was that they looked agitated. He could see why Ziva had whispered.

"What do we do?" Ziva asked softly. "We need to get to the barn across the field. There is a good chance that the missing Sergeant's body is hidden in there."

Tony surveyed the situation. Ziva was right. The farm was fenced in on both sides of them, keeping out what looked like massive poison ivy plants. There was no way that they could go around the turkeys without causing a commotion.

"Well?" She hissed impatiently.

"How should I know?" Tony hissed back. "I'm not a turkey expert."

Ziva huffed. "We could try shooting them."

Tony looked at her. "Are you insane?" He demanded. "There's no way that would work. There's way too many of them, and shooting at them will only make them mad. Which is what we want to avoid, remember? Not to mention the fact the farmer will probably sue us. And Gibbs will kill us."

"It was just a suggestion," Ziva replied icily. "They were going to be killed and eaten anyway. But, if you do not like it, come up with your own plan." She turned and walked away from Tony and the field of turkeys. "I am going to call Ducky. He will know what we should do."

Tony groaned and sat down facing the turkeys, Even if Ziva did get in contact with Ducky, there was no way that he was getting home in time for dinner. He might as well figure out a way to do this himself.

He desperately racked his brain for a solution. He tried to remember everything that he had ever heard about the birds on Animal Planet and the Food Network. He knew that they were tasty when cooked, but could be quite vicious when provoked. He had seen nasty videos of turkeys attacking people. Tony was determined not to be one of those victims, but couldn't think of a plan. He wished that he had listened to Ducky's Thanksgiving monologue last year.

By now the turkeys had backed off slightly. They didn't seem as threatened anymore, probably because Tony had been sitting still. Tony watched their movements absently. He couldn't wait for them to move. He was going to have to use force.

Ziva into the tree branch while straining to hear what Ducky was saying. Frustrated, she paused and readjusted the phone. "I am sorry, Ducky. Could you repeat that? I am still having trouble getting reception."

"Of course, my dear," Ducky said. "You and Anthony are dealing with the Meleagris gallopavo, a domesticated turkey. They are descended fro-"

"Yes, Ducky, we know what we are dealing with," Ziva interrupted, cutting off what was sure to be one of Ducky's long yet informative rambles. "But it is not just one turkey. There are dozens of them. Tony and I need to get through them to continue our search."

"Ah. So you want to know more about how the birds will behave when you try to push through them?"

"Yes, exactly," Ziva replied. "I suggested shooting them, but Tony thought that the farmer would not be happy to return to a field full of dead turkeys."

"No, he probably wouldn't be very happy," Ducky chuckled. "Let me see. I don't have an extensive knowledge on turkeys, but I do know that they can be extremely aggressive when provoked or under duress."

"So, what do you suggest that we do?" Ziva asked. She glanced down from her perch to see Tony inching towards the turkeys while carrying something behind his back. Ziva shook her head. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Well, first-"

"Never mind, Ducky," Ziva said quickly. "If one were to be attacked by a flock of turkeys, what kind of injuries would they sustain?"

"Well, I suppose they would be pecked and scratched," Ducky replied slowly, sounding confused. "But I think that if you and Anthony can find a way around the turkeys, you can avoid any kind of interaction."

Ziva glanced back down at Tony, who had reached the edge of the flock. He unfolded his arms, revealing what appeared to be a long, thick stick. He stood for another moment, took a breath, then charged.

"Ziva? Ziva? What's happening. Is that Tony screaming?"

"Could minimal injuries be treated with a common first aid kit?" Ziva asked urgently.

"Yes, but-"

"Thank you, Ducky. I have to go." Ziva said quickly, snapping her phone shut.

She climbed down quickly, but thought better of jumping to the ground when an enraged turkey ran past the tree. Ziva shook her head. She couldn't do anything for Tony until the turkeys stopped.

Ziva looked back at Tony to see him swinging wildly at the turkeys with his stick while screaming. Grinning, she pulled her phone out and began recording. Just because she couldn't help Tony didn't mean that she couldn't remember this forever.

A few minutes later, Ziva slid to the ground, sure that the frenzy was over. She jogged over to Tony, who was sitting at the edge of the field with his back to the barn. "Are you alright?"

Tony looked up at her slowly. "I think so," he coughed, glancing back at the ground. His gaze returned to ZIva in time to see her hand making contact with his head.

"Ow!" Tony yelped, springing away from her slap. "What was that for?"

"You are an idiot," Ziva said angrily, kneeling and unzipping her backpack. "What were you thinking?"

"Well, we had to get through them," Tony said. "I didn't want to be here all day, and it seemed like Ducky was rambling, so I-"

"-Thought it would be a good idea to run into the middle of the flock and keep them away with a piece of wood?" Ziva finished. She grabbed Tony's arm and checked to make sure that all of his cuts and bruises were not serious.

"Yeah, something like that," Tony nodded.

Ziva pulled out a bottle of Hydrogen peroxide and a roll of bandages. "If you had waited another minute, Ducky would have told you to stay still and walk slowly around them."

"That would have taken forever," Tony complained, wincing as the chemicals came into contact with his broken skin.

"But it would be less painful than this, yes?" Ziva replied.

"I guess so," Tony said thoughtfully. "Hey, could you not tell anyone about this?"

Ziva grinned and put the bottle down. "Only if you tell me one thing."

"Anything," Tony agreed. If anyone at the office found out about this, he'd never live it down.

"When they rushed in on you, did you try to …dance with them?"

Tony groaned. He hadn't been expecting that question. "Yes."

"Yes?" Ziva repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Tony confirmed shifting slightly. "In elementary school, we used to do a dance for Thanksgving. It was called the 'Turkey Tango.' When they knocked the stick out of my hands, I freaked out, so I tried the one thing that I thought might work."

"You thought that dancing - tangoing, to be exact - would make the turkeys stop attacking you?" Ziva demanded.

Tony shrugged sheepishly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Alright," Ziva said to Tony, patting him on the arm. "If Gibbs or McGee ask what happened, I will lie and say that you tripped over a log and rolled down a hill."

"Thanks, Sweet Cheeks," Tony said happily. "That's much better than the truth."

Ziva smiled to herself as Tony slowly stood up. Agreeing not to tell had been easy enough. Tony had been humiliated enough for one day. But she had a feeling that being able to blackmail Tony with something this embarrassing would be useful sometime soon, on a day when he had forgotten exactly how many idiotic things he had done in the past.

I hope you liked this. The main reason why I didn't finish it last year was because I had no idea where the story was going. I ended up letting it do what it wanted so that I could finally post it.

Thanks for all the encouragement I had to finish this.

Happy Thanksgiving!