A/N: Written for the NFA Forum 2014 Secret Santa fic exchange.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to NCIS. I'm just having a little fun with the delightful characters.

We Need a Little Christmas

By: Vanessa Sgroi

The punch, when it came, rocked Tony DiNozzo back on his heels. His hand instinctively flew up to cover the offended eye.

"Ow."

Tim McGee dropped back a couple of steps and raised his arms out from his sides. "Tony, I'm so sorry! It was an accident—I swear!"

"No need to apologize, McGee." Tony grinned, blinking through the tears caused by the blow. "It's called sparring. It happens. It's even happened to Gibbs a time or two." He shrugged. "Ready to go again?"

Tim huffed out a breath. "No—I think I've had enough this morning."

DiNozzo glanced at the clock on the wall. "Yeah—looks like we should hit the showers anyway."

Once showered and dressed, the two MCRT team members headed upstairs to the bullpen. While waiting for the elevator, Tony studied himself in the reflective surface. "Looks like that's going to be some shiner."

"It was an accident," Tim fretted.

"I know, I know. I was just making an observation." The doors opened and they stepped into the car. "You know, that's some right hook you've got there, McGee," Tony said with sincerity. "With a little more work, you could become a force to be reckoned with."

"Yeah, right." Tim snorted softly and shook his head.

"I'm serious! These practices are paying off. Gibbs was right when he said they'd do us both some good."

Having reached their floor, the elevator doors opened again and they stepped off. Tony and Tim both settled in at their desks, ready to start the new day. They both simultaneously greeted Ellie Bishop when she arrived five minutes later.

Dumping her backpack on her desk, she glanced at Tony then did a double take. Ellie whistled. "That's some black eye you've got goin' on."

"It was an accident!" McGee quickly interjected.

Bishop looked from Tony to Tim and back again. "Ooooo-kay. I was just gonna say it kinda gives you an edgy, dangerous look."

Tony's face lit up despite the swelling, purpling eye. He puffed out his chest. "Oh yeah? Does it make me look sexy?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far…"

They were interrupted by Abby Sciuto as she excitedly bounced into the bullpen carrying a large bag bedecked with a glittery snowman. "Cookies! I brought cookies!"

Reaching into the bag, Abby brought out a plate of Christmas cookies wrapped in bright, pretty cellophane and adorned with ribbon and handed it to Ellie. "One for you…"

Abby spun on her heel and practically skipped to Tony's desk. She pulled out another plate and placed it on DiNozzo's desk. "And one for you…Tony! What happened to your eye?"

"McGee punched me…"

Abby spun to face McGee. "MCGEE! You punched Tony?! How could you!" She hugged her bag close to her chest. "I have…I have half a mind to not give you your plate of cookies for being such a big meanie!"

"It was an accident!" Tim defended. At Abby's dubious look, he continued. "Look, I know we've all wanted to punch him a time or two in the past but I would never…" He let his voice trail off.

"An accident?" Her gaze swung back to Tony who was nodding.

"Yep, it's true. It was an accident."

After a couple of seconds, Abby relented and released the bag with a sigh. "Well, okay then." She extracted McGee's plate of cookies and handed them to him. She then turned to leave but Tony's voice stopped her.

"What? No plate of cookies for Gibbs?"

"Oh, he got his a little earlier. He's already hid them from you."

"Hid them?" Tony mumbled around a mouthful of Abby's famous Pecan Shortbread. "Oh, nice. Good to know our boss doesn't trust me."

Abby's hands flew to her hips. "Seriously? Tony—if it was your plate of cookies—would YOU trust YOU?"

DiNozzo contemplated that for a second before nodding. He brushed a few crumbs off his mouth. "Good point. Hey, Abs—before you go—you're still coming on Christmas Eve, right?"

"You bet. I'll be there with bells on." Abby hurried away to deliver her famed cookies to Ducky and Jimmy.

Tony's gaze shifted to Bishop. "What'd Jake say?"

"Oh, his parents are going on a cruise this year, so yeah, we'll be there."

"Sorry again I won't be there," said McGee. "You know I promised Delilah I'd spend Christmas with her over there."

"Christmas in Dubai. Sounds like a new Christmas album." Tony grinned. "You'll be missing some good food, Timmy. I'm planning on showing off my cooking skills!"

"Good food or food poisoning?" McGee snarked back.

Tony grabbed his chest. "You wound me, Tim—you wound me."

"If anyone's going to do any wounding around here, it's gonna be me if you all don't get to work." Gibbs' voice rang out sharply as he strode into the bullpen.

The team studiously turned their attention to their computers or other awaiting tasks.

Sinking into his chair at his desk, Gibbs queried, "Where do we stand on Lance Corporal Thom? We have a location on him or his former girlfriend yet?"

Tony looked up from his computer and shook his head. "No, Boss. We questioned most of his circle yesterday and so far nothing. McGee and I are planning to question the rest today."

"Good."

The rest of the day was spent following a handful of leads, none of which panned out the way they'd hoped. Around 6:00 pm, Tony glanced out the window and cried, "Hey, when did it start snowing?"

Ellie and Tim both looked up from their computers with surprised frowns.

"Looks like it's coming down pretty good out there," Bishop mused.

"It is," called Gibbs as he jogged down the stairs, returning from a meeting in Vance's office. "Go home."

"Boss, did I hear…"

"Yes, you heard me correctly, DiNozzo. Go home."

Not needing further prompting, the trio quickly gathered their things. Pulling on his jacket, Tony paused at McGee's desk. "McGee, thanks again for the ride here and home. I should be able to pick up my car from the shop tomorrow."

"Just remember you owe me, Tony," Tim pointed a warning finger at DiNozzo. "The next time I need a ride you better not say no."

Tony adopted a faux wounded expression and slapped a hand over his heart. "Would I do that?"

"Yes, yes you would. And have. Probably will again," grumbled McGee.

"To be fair," countered Tony, "I DID have a good reason last time if I remember correctly."

"You did?"

"Uh, yeah. The concussion?"

"Oh, right. Now I remember. Fine—I'll give you that one. But what about the two times before that?"

"The two times? I don't remember two. I remember one other time and I had a good reason then too."

"Oh? What was it?"

"I…uh…I…don't remember. But I'm sure it was a good reason…"

Their good-natured bickering went back and forth all the way to the car.

**NCIS**

Two hours later, they were still bickering but now it was directed at the weather, the world, the other cars on the road, and life in general.

"I'm starving!" moaned DiNozzo. "Don't you have anything at all stashed in here, McGee?"

"For the thousandth time, no! I try not to keep snacky things in the car."

Tony sighed and pressed a hand to his belly when it growled.

Tim's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I can't understand why we're not moving! It's not like it's snowing THAT hard!"

"I have to pee."

McGee gave DiNozzo a side-eye glance. "Gee, thanks for that."

"I'm serious! What should I do? Do you have a bottle…"

"NO! I do not have a bottle! Look, there's a place still open over there—looks like a little store—maybe you can go there. We haven't moved more than 30 feet in the last half hour. I'll still be almost exactly here when you get back."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Desperate, Tony braved the cold and snow and made his way to the little corner store. When he returned ten minutes later, McGee's car had indeed barely moved. He opened the door and practically dived back inside.

"I brought us some chips!" he crowed victoriously. "Chips and water!" He brandished both items.

McGee happily grabbed his share. "You could've said you brought deep fried mountain oysters and I would've eaten them!"

It was two more nightmarish hours before McGee finally pulled up in front of Tony's apartment complex. Though it was still snowing, the wind had calmed somewhat.

Rubbing his eyes, Tim muttered, "I cannot believe it just took us four hours to reach your place."

"Listen, why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Nah, I should get home."

"McGee, think about it—if it takes you as long to get home from here as it took us to get here, it'd practically be time for you to turn around and pick me up again to go back to work. It makes more sense if you stay here."

"I don't have any clothes…"

"You can borrow some of mine."

"But…"

"Do you really want to go back out into that traffic nightmare?"

McGee sighed and shook his head. "No, not really."

"Then come upstairs. My couch isn't half bad."

"Yeah, okay, maybe that's a good idea."

Once inside the apartment, Tony offered, "I have the makings for sandwiches in the fridge. I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Tim sat his computer bag on the floor next to the couch. "I don't know…it's kinda late to eat…" McGee paused when his stomach gave a loud grumble. He grinned ruefully. "But I think my stomach just overruled my head."

"I'll go throw us something together. Extra blankets and pillows are in the hall closet there if you want to grab 'em. You want coffee?"

"Nah. Better not."

"Bottled water it is."

DiNozzo disappeared into the kitchen, returning shortly with two simple roast beef sandwiches and two bottles of water. They watched a repeat of The Big Bang Theory while they ate. When they were done, Tony stood and stretched. "You all set?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. I'll see you in the morning then. Don't worry about the TV—it won't bother me if you want stay up."

**NCIS**

Yawning, DiNozzo padded barefoot into the living room. Running a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair, he grinned when he saw McGee sprawled, arms and legs akimbo, on the couch, snoring softly. On the way to the kitchen to brew some much needed coffee, Tony paused and looked out the window, pleased to see only about five inches of white fluff on the ground. Given the intensity of the snowfall last evening and the resultant traffic nightmare, he'd worried there'd be much more accumulation.

He returned to the living room with two mugs of coffee in hand.

"Rise and shine, Timmy!"

When his summons received no response, Tony placed both mugs down on the coffee table. "Yo, Tim," he reached out to shake McGee's shoulder.

McGee came awake with a violent start, arms flailing, catching DiNozzo in the mouth with a loose fist.

"Ow!" Tony patted his swelling lip. "Do you always wake up throwing punches? If so, I feel sorry for Delilah."

Tim blinked owlishly at Tony for a few seconds. "What? Oh. Geez, I'm sorry. I think…I think I was having some sort of weird dream. There was this clown…"

Tony cocked an eyebrow. "Did you stay up to watch the late night horror movie on Channel 16?"

"Only the first 15 minutes!"

"Were there clowns?"

McGee nodded sheepishly. "Sorry about your lip…"

Tony shrugged. "Eh, it's a fat lip. It'll match my black eye."

"Oh, no…" Tim groaned before grabbing his mug and took a bracing sip of caffeine.

"What?"

"Abby! When she sees you, she's never gonna believe it was another accident!"

"I'll just tell her I fell in the snow."

"Yeah, like she'll believe that one."

"It's happened before."

**NCIS**

Later That Evening

Tony smiled happily as he slid into the driver's seat of his car. Jimmy had been kind enough to drop him off earlier at the garage to pick it up. Having left work a little early and happy to be mobile again, Tony had taken the opportunity to get some last minute shopping done for tomorrow's party. Humming a Christmas carol beneath his breath, DiNozzo backed out of the parking space and drove through the maze of the mall's parking lot.

Approaching a deserted section of the lot that was ringed in shadows, Tony's keen, police-honed gaze picked up a commotion ahead briefly illuminated in a flash of his headlights. At first it appeared to be just a man and woman arguing, but Tony grunted when he saw the much-larger man haul off and punch the woman in the jaw. A closer look at the woman clearly showed that this wasn't the first punch that had been thrown this evening. DiNozzo slowed and pulled the car over. Slipping from the car, he cautiously approached the couple. The sound of the woman's whimpers filled his ears.

Hoping to diffuse the volatile situation, Tony called out, "Hey, buddy, c'mon. You don't want to treat your lady like that, do you?"

Mid-swing, the big behemoth of a man spun awkwardly toward the intrusion. "Screw you! Mind your own damn business." Dismissing DiNozzo, the dark-haired man turned back to the woman, grabbing her upper arm in an iron grip.

Tony inched closer raising his hands in a placating manner. "C'mon, mister, I'm sure you guys can just talk things out, can't you? There's no need to hit her."

Again the man swung back to him, rage suffusing his face turning it a molten red. "I said mind your own business! This is between me and my wife. And she deserves exactly what she's getting." Her turned back to his wife. "Don't you, Stacy?" he spit, grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"Now, see, I can't let you hurt her anymore."

The abuser abruptly pushed Stacy away, causing her to stumble back, her purse tumbling to the ground. He advanced on Tony, eyes narrowing. "What're you, some damn pansy-assed, do-gooder? Thinking you can tell me how to treat my woman? Huh? Coming up here in your fancy suit, fancy haircut—talking bullshit."

Cursing the fact that his badge and gun were still locked in the trunk of his car where he'd stashed them before entering the mall, DiNozzo offered up his best self-deprecating grin and raised his hands. "Me? A do-gooder? Naaaaw! Just ask my boss."

"Carl, please…" Stacy called out, "He was just tryin' to help." She snuffled and rubbed at her face with the back of her hand smearing blood across her cheek.

"Shut up, Stacy!" Carl snarled over his shoulder.

"Carl, don't hurt him. Please…it's Christmas…"

Her innocuous plea further enraged Carl. He rounded on her and roared. "I SAID SHUT THE HELL UP! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU 'BOUT TALKING BACK TO ME!"

Fury-fueled, Carl threw a punch at Tony's face. He managed to duck the first one but wasn't so lucky with the glancing counterblow to his solar plexus. He wheezed painfully but threw a punch of his own; quickly finding that hitting Carl was like punching a slab of concrete.

The next blow caught him just below the same eye McGee had hit yesterday. With the power of a jackhammer, the fist opened a cut on Tony's cheek and he felt hot blood begin to trickle down his cheek. His head snapped back and he staggered, dress shoes slipping on the damp pavement. "Stacy, run!" He finished with a grunt when a fist slammed into his ribs.

Rather than heed his advice, she moved toward them instead screaming, "Carl! Carl, stop!"

Ears ringing from yet another blow, Tony threw another punch and panted, "Go…damn it. Run!" Tony despaired that his plan to engage Carl long enough for his wife to get away clearly wasn't working. He cried out when a kick to his bad knee sent a lightning bolt of pain shooting up his leg and left him seeing stars.

Sobbing, Stacy reached for Carl's arm, tugging ineffectually at his jacket. "Stop! Carl!"

A quick backhand sent her to the ground. She crab-walked backward inching away from the duo.

The gleam of a knife suddenly appeared in Carl's hand. Before Tony could react, Carl struck, and Tony felt the sting as the blade pierced his side. Slamming a hand against the wound, DiNozzo wavered and sank to one knee.

His attacker used the opportunity to deliver one more blow, laying Tony out on the ground. Gray spots danced in front of his eyes. He saw Carl grab his wife and drag her toward their car. DiNozzo rolled to his hands and knees and attempted to rise, but the gray spots rapidly coalesced and he felt the pull of oblivion. As the darkness descended, he heard the thunderous roar of their engine as the car tore away.

**NCIS**

Tony came to with a soft groan. He blinked heavy eyes open, gaze blearily roaming around what he knew immediately was an ER cubicle. His gaze finally landed on a grim-looking Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Hey, Boss," he rasped, shifting on the gurney and wincing when every bruise and cut lit up in protest. His side hurt in particular and his hand came to rest on the bandage there.

"Blade didn't go in too far," Gibbs stated. "But far enough. Wanna tell me what the hell happened? Last I knew, you were going Christmas shopping."

DiNozzo nodded. "And I did! It was as I was leaving that everything went sideways."

"I can see that."

Tony tiredly dropped his head down on the pillow. "There was this couple. Arguing I thought at first. But then he hit her."

"And you played Good Samaritan and stepped in."

"Would you have done any differently?" DiNozzo countered with a stare.

Gibbs shook his head, mutely conceding the point.

"My badge and gun were in the trunk of my car. I didn't take the time to get them out. I tried to stop him. Was hoping she would run but she didn't. He bested me and they took off."

"They didn't get far."

"Oh?"

"Local PD pulled them over a few miles away for driving erratically. Carl and Stacy Stone. He pulled a gun and got a bullet in the shoulder for his trouble. She told the LEO's everything while they were waiting for an ambulance."

"So she's okay then."

"She will be."

Tony nodded in satisfaction. "Hey, speaking of my car…"

"Taken care of."

"Good. Now let's take care of getting ME outta here." DiNozzo pushed at the sheets covering him and made to sit up.

Gibbs shook his head. "Not happening."

"But I'm fine!"

"Yeah, you look it."

"See! We're in agreement, I can go."

"They're keeping you overnight."

"But…"

"You were stabbed, DiNozzo."

"You said it didn't go in very far!"

"I also said it went in far enough," Gibbs' steely gaze flashed. "Add that to your concussion, bruised ribs, and wrenched knee and you're staying the night."

"Fine," grumbled Tony. "But I'm outta here first thing in the morning. I have a party to host."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You're still having the party?"

"Absolutely!" DiNozzo moved and grimaced. "Though it might end up being a pizza party."

**NCIS**

Tony's fingers glided over the ivory keys, tentatively at first then with more confidence as the music spun through his mind and swirled down through his fingers. A ballad first followed by a simple, if silly, Christmas carol. Then a knock at the door interrupted the flow. DiNozzo abruptly stopped playing and rose from the piano bench, hobbling his way to the door.

"Gibbs! You're early—like really early!"

Crossing the threshold, Gibbs held up the bags he carried. "I thought you could use some help."

"Oh, yeah—sure! That's great!" Tony turned and limped slowly toward the kitchen.

"I didn't know you played the piano."

Tony's limping steps faltered for a split second. "Oh, you heard that, huh?" As silly as it was, Tony felt his cheeks grow pink. "Uh…yeah, I play now and again. I hadn't for a long, long time and then…well, it's…it's kinda like a coping mechanism for me. Helps me relax, you know?"

"You're good."

DiNozzo continued on into the kitchen shaking his head. "Nah, not really. Just ask my childhood piano teacher, Mrs. Belchin."

"I'm betting Mrs. Belchin was trying to teach an eight-year-old boy who had other things on his mind."

"Well, I was six, but yeah…"

The first guests, besides Gibbs of course, arrived about an hour later. Jimmy and Breena were quickly followed by Abby and Ducky then Ellie Bishop and her husband, Jake, whom the team had met for the first time at Thanksgiving. With Director Vance having sent his regrets along with a fine bottle of Scotch for the enjoyment of those in attendance, Tony was only expecting a few more people to show. They did so shortly thereafter and virtually all at once. Tony quickly made introductions.

"The steely-eyed gentleman over there by the tree is my boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Next to him is Abby Sciuto and Ducky Mallard. And over there is Jimmy Palmer and his remarkable wife, Breena, Ellie Bishop and her husband, Jake." Tony turned to face his co-workers. "Everyone, this is Father Santiago. He runs one of the men's support groups I go to when I can. And this is Luke Charles and Howard Burke, friends of mine from the group. And this pretty lady right here," DiNozzo took his elderly neighbor's hand gently and kissed it causing her to giggle like a school girl, "this is Alba Santini, my neighbor from down the hall. She keeps me stocked with her miraculous Sunday Gravy." Tony shook a finger at Alba. "For which she promises to one day share the recipe."

With introductions out of the way, Tony directed everyone to the drinks and snacks he and Gibbs had situated on a table near the kitchen earlier and promised pizza would be delivered soon. DiNozzo was pleased when he noticed that everyone seemed to fall easily into animated conversations and laughter soon rang out, filling the apartment. When his laptop suddenly chimed, he hurried to grab it off the coffee table.

Opening it, he grinned. "Hey, everybody, look! It's McGee and Delilah Skyping from Dubai!" DiNozzo turned the laptop around and panned the room, allowing the camera to pick up all the party guests. "Everybody wish McGee and Delilah a Merry Christmas!"

After a chorus of "Merry Christmas!" and waves from everyone, McGee's voice sounded through the speaker. "We can't stay too long, but we wanted to say hi. Tony, just put us down anywhere."

Tony left the laptop in Abby's care and grabbed his cell to order the assortment of pizzas. Assured that they would soon be on the way, DiNozzo leaned carefully against the piano to watch the merriment.

Suddenly, Gibbs cleared his throat and said, "DiNozzo, while we're waiting for the pizza, why don't you play us something on the piano?"

Startled, Tony shook his head. "What? No. You guys don't wanna hear me play."

"Tony, you play?" cried Abby. "Play a Christmas carol for us! Pleeeeease! It'll be fun!"

With shouts of encouragement bolstering him, Tony limped to the bench and took a seat. After a few moments of thought he began to play "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". When he was finished he sat back and looked at his audience. "Geez, I thought you guys would join in and sing."

"We would have," whispered Abby, a touch of awe in her tone, "but it was just so…so…beautiful!"

There was a round of nods from everyone else.

Ducky smiled. "Anthony, that was quite exquisite. Would you deign to grace us with more?"

"Well, if you're sure…I don't want to bore you all."

"C'mon, Tony," Abby implored. "We'll sing this time, I promise!"

Thus assured, Tony's fingers came to rest on the keys. He cleared his throat and then played a few bars of introduction of "Silent Night" before beginning in earnest. Soon a chorus of voices filled the air.

And from the corner near the delightfully decorated Christmas tree, Gibbs smiled. Then he too joined the singing.

FIN