A/N: This little fluff fest is a thank you Christmas present for my dear friend Zivacentric for organizing our little Zibbs Secret Santa Exchange 2012 AND for generally being a Goddess. I wanted to challenge myself with the adorable bromance between our intrepid Bossman and the crusty old FBI agent, Fornell. They crack me up when they're together, like an old married couple. You can count on the snark and some good laughs when Fornell is around. And of course there's some sexy Ziva in there too.

Hugs, marshmallows and all things fluffy for you my dearest!

Enjoy!

Gibbs stared at his reflection in the mirror. He ran the razor over his cheek down to his jaw. Once, twice. With a flick of his wrist, he shook the shaving cream into the sink. And then repeated the move. He went to start the other side but Ziva slipped under his arm and positioned herself in the small space between him and the bathroom counter.

"Shaving here." He grunted. "Sharp razor, skin. No coffee yet."

She pursed her lips into that sexy little pout that usually meant she wanted something.

He sighed. "What?"

"Tomorrow night is the NCIS Christmas party. You still have not told me if you are going to go." Her small hands played at the sides of his waist. If he wasn't already in a grouchy mood, it would have tickled.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and shoved her aside.

"Jethro…"

"Ziver…" He put a little extra growl on it in hopes she'd drop it. No such luck.

"A simple 'yes' or 'no' would suffice."

He eyed her and continued to shave the rest of his face. "No."

"Why not?"

He bit back another frustrated growl. They had been through this already. Twice. "You said simple. The answer is 'no'."

She grabbed her toothbrush from the holder with a little more force than normal. Her movements were jerky as she spread toothpaste on the bristles. "I do not see what the big deal is. It is after work. You will already be there. All you have to do is make an appearance."

"And put on a tux. Not doing it." He rinsed his razor and placed it back in the cabinet.

She brushed her teeth so furiously the enamel should have worn clean off. Best to stay clear, he stepped back into the bedroom and took out his tweed blazer, blue golf shirt and brown belt. He heard the water turn off and her bare feet pad back into the room.

"Is it because you don't want to be seen with me?"

"Excuse me?" His head almost cracked a vertebra it spun around so quickly. Ok, now he was pissed. He didn't want to fight about it, was avoiding it in fact, but now the gloves were off.

"Well it could be the only answer."

"Answer to what?"

"Why you will not go to the party with me."

"I'm not going to a damn party to stand around in a monkey suit to talk with obnoxious people I don't like. That's all. Nothing more."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

She rounded the corner of the bed and pulled on a pair of pants––his favorite ones––the dark gray ones that hugged her ass in all the right places. Little minx. She did that on purpose. She then stepped into a pair of shoes and pulled a cream colored blouse over her head. Her movements were now highly agitated and her eyes spit fire at him. Right now, he couldn't even enjoy a look at her perfect little ass. No, he was caught between being really pissed at her for pushing the damn party issue and for being ridiculous about thinking he didn't care enough about her. Was she serious?

"We have not told the team about us. It has been almost a year." She all but shouted at him. "They are our friends. They will be at the party. Would it really be so bad?"

"Yes."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes popped to the size of saucers. The stricken look on her face twisted his stomach. Gibbs swallowed. Shit. He didn't mean what she thought he meant. Far, far from it.

"I see."

"Ziver…"

She held her hand up. "No. Do not."

"That's not what I meant." This had really gone downhill and fast.

"Forget I even asked."

"Gladly."

Dammit. That was exactly what he wanted in the first place. For her to just forget about it. But now she was upset and he was pissed and it wasn't even 0700 yet.

From the corner of his eye, he tracked her movements. She pulled the brush through her hair and tied it up in an elastic. The ponytail was so tight on her head he thought her eyebrows might disappear. He was slipping his feet into his shoes when she stomped out of the room and down the stairs without a second look.

He tied his laces quick and followed her. She was gathering her rucksack and her coat by the time he hit the bottom riser. She yanked the door open but he slammed it shut with his hand above her head.

"It's not what I meant."

"No, I know what you meant." Her dark brown eyes were as frigid as the morning air outside. "You do not want to go to the party. Fine. I get that. But I cannot help but wonder when we will tell everyone about us. I am tired of snooping around."

"We're not sneaking around." He ignored her glare at his subtle correction. "It's no one's business."

She huffed in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she looked back at him after a moment, her eyes softened but she stuck a finger in his face. "Soon."

He pulled a face rather than commit to anything. Not here, not now. And definitely not after that. They were at a stalemate. She cocked an eyebrow at him and nodded to his hand. He removed it with a laugh. He couldn't help it––she was adorable when she got all feisty. He wanted to kiss that scowl right off her face, but he figured it was best to just keep a wide berth. So he let her go.

She yanked the door open, almost hit him in the nose with it and stopped dead. Gibbs dodged the edge of the door and was met with her full-on glare.

And Fornell's eyes.

"Well, well, well. Working late or early?" The FBI agent made a show of checking his watch. Gibbs didn't have to look at his, he knew full well it was 0645.

"What are you doing here Tobias?"

"I was coming to pick you up to get coffee on our way to the crime scene, but it seems I'm not the only one who had that idea."

"We were not having coffee," Ziva said.

Fornell grinned. "Oh, I don't doubt that."

Gibbs cringed. Ziva's mouth gapped and she volleyed a look between him and Fornell and back again. She let out a high pitch growl between her teeth and stared at Gibbs like it was his fault Fornell showed up on his doorstep. He just couldn't win today. When he glared back at her, she pushed past the FBI agent on the stoop towards her car. And just like that, they were back to square one.

Tobias swiveled to watch her go. "Did I interrupt anything?"

Gibbs pulled the door shut and dug his keys out of his pocket. "Don't ask."

They walked toward the government issue Charger parked in Gibbs driveway. He often kept the car in his possession instead of returning it to the motor pool. Last night was a particularly late night. Fornell slid into the passenger seat and Gibbs drove off.

It was blessedly silent for five minutes. And then…

"So… you and Ziva?"

Gibbs slid him an icy sidelong glance.

"I'll take you're non-answer and the death glare as confirmation." Tobias stared out the front windshield with a smug grin on his face. Then he laughed. "You old dog, you!"

Gibbs refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"How long has this been going on? Is it new? Though by how infuriated she looked, that must mean the honeymoon period is over and she's gotten to know the real you, so I'm gonna guess at least six months. Probably ten."

Gibbs stared at him. Damn him. Observant bastard.

"What'd you do to piss her off?" Tobias chuckled. "Or rather what didn't you do?"

Gibbs drove for a while in silence, stewing, deliberating. If there was anyone who knew him well enough, his horrendous track record with women, it was Tobias. And for as much as he hated to admit it, they were somewhat friends. Not that he needed advice. Because he wasn't going to that party if it killed him.

"Christmas party. Tuxedo. Not going."

"Ah. You sure you guys didn't get married and not send me an invitation?"

Gibbs huffed and shook his head. He knew he shouldn't have shared. Sharing is not caring.

"Well, all I have to say is, if you want to continue to 'get some' with that exotic hot…"

"Watch it."

"Gorgeous woman," he quickly amended. "You had better get yourself dressed up in a monkey suit and play nice."

"No. I'm not doing it."

"You know she's Mossad right?"

"She's not Mossad anymore, she's NCIS."

"Which makes what you're doing completely complicated, by the way." He chanced a look at him. "Don't you have a rule about that?"

"Rule 51, 'sometimes you're wrong'."

"Well isn't that a convenient loophole."

Gibbs pulled into the crime scene and slammed the car into park. "Tobias, shut up."

They exited the car. Fornell leaned his arm against the roof and hollered to him. "And for the record, you're completely in the wrong."

"Always am," Gibbs muttered to himself. He pulled on his baseball cap and stalked over to his team. "What do we got?"