Just Another Christmas!

By No1butjoe

A/N: This is early because, come Christmas time, I can never seem to find the time or patience to write. Thus, this story is being posted early. I hope you all like it. It's only my second NCIS fic.

Disclaimer - I don't own NCIS or any related characters.

Summary - It's Christmas time and, this year, Tony doesn't have any plans. Will Gibbs and the rest of the team find out?

"You heading home, DiNozzo?"

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo jerked his head up at the sound of his boss' voice. It was late at NCIS, close to midnight, yet both him and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs were there, looking over the reports from their last case. Now, Gibbs was standing in front of his desk, looking at him expectantly as he waited for an answer. Tony's gaze drifted to the tree behind him, lights decorating it's branches and tinsel illuminating a faint glow in the bullpen.

Snapping out of his daze, Tony smiled at the lead agent.

"Yeah, Boss, just finishing up some last minute paperwork," he replied, lowering his head to look at the documents on his desk.

He could sense Gibbs' gaze on him for another minute or two, but acted as if he didn't notice. As soon as his boss was in the elevator, doors closed, he breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way he was telling Gibbs that he had volunteered to be on duty during the holidays so his co-workers could have off to spend time with their family and friends.

Gibbs had his father, Jackson, coming tonight, Christmas Eve. He found out when Jackson had called Gibbs' desk and Tony was the only one around to answer it. They were planning on having dinner and everything.

Ziva had plans with her next door neighbors. She'd been talking about it for weeks and Tony would feel guilty if she had to miss it due to being on duty.

"Merry Christmas, DiNozzo."

Tony looked up in time to see Director Leon Vance heading towards the elevator, his briefcase in his hand. He turned around and offered him a smile. With a small wave, he entered the elevator and was gone, leaving Tony alone in the building. Sighing deeply, the senior field agent leaned back in his chair, throwing his pen onto his desk. His hand ran over his face, as if trying to get rid of the fatigue he was sure would be there. After another minute or two, he settled back in his chair and closed his eyes. A small nap wouldn't hurt.

Tony's small nap ended up being two hours. By the time he woke up, it was well past midnight, closer to three in the morning and the building was still just as empty as before. Truth be told, Tony was feeling a little lonely. He opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a couple of bags. He leaned underneath his desk, grabbed something, and sat up with a Caf-Pow in his hand, having gotten one earlier for Abby. Knowing he'd be stuck in the building all night, he also bought himself one. Setting the drink on top of his desk, he opened one of the bags, bringing out a small turkey as well as some mashed potatoes. The gravy was in a small container, still a little warm. This would be his Christmas dinner. After putting everything out and setting it up on his desk, Tony looked around the bullpen.

His gaze shifted from Ziva's desk, to McGee's, to Gibbs', until it finally rested back on the food in front of him. He stuffed his napkin into the collar of his shirt before picking up his fork and peeling apart the turkey. He stopped halfway through, unsettled by the quietness of the room. He set his fork down, his appetite apparently gone. Removing the napkin, he put it on his desk.

"Merry Christmas to me," he whispered softly.

This is a line.

"Isn't that turkey done yet, Leroy?" Jackson Gibbs called from the living room.

"Not yet, Dad," Gibbs replied from the kitchen. "It still has a few more minutes!"

Jackson snorted and leaned forward in his seat on the couch.

"Yeah, that's what you said three hours ago," he mumbled under his breath.

Somehow, his son still heard him.

"Dad, you can't blame it on me," came the retort. "I didn't expect to stay at headquarters so late. The earliest I could get the turkey in was midnight."

Jackson just shook his head and stood, shoving his hands into his pockets impatiently. He looked around his son's house, which wasn't a lot, but he tried to occupy himself. As he did, he kept going with the conversation.

"So, Leroy, what made you decide to ask off for Christmas this year?" he questioned, curiously.

"Didn't," came the reply as Gibbs walked out to the table, startling his father as he set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the tabletop.

Jackson frowned, a little confused.

"Well then, how did you get off for Christmas if you didn't request it off?" he asked, moving closer to the table as the fragrance from the potatoes wafted into his nostrils.

Gibbs shrugged.

"Director said someone volunteered to be on duty," he replied, glancing at the table to see what else they'd need besides the still under-cooked turkey.

"Volunteered?"

"Yeah, Dad, it's when someone offers to-."

"I know what it means, Leroy, but, isn't it a bit unusual that someone would do that when it's such a big holiday?"

Gibbs' patience was wearing thin.

"I don't ask, Dad," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's none of my business."

Jackson watched him for a moment, not saying anything.

"What if it was someone from your team?" he inquired. "Wouldn't that make it your business?"

Gibbs frowned and set down the bowl of gravy. His gut had been churning all day, telling him something was wrong or off. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Yeah, it would, but my team isn't on duty."

"Are you sure, Leroy? Are you absolutely sure?"

The words struck home to the NCIS agent. He had listened as everyone talked about their plans for the holidays. Ziva and her next door neighbors, Abby and her family, Ducky and Jimmy spending it together at the Mallard mansion with Mrs. Mallard, and McGee flying out to see his sister and parents. They all had plans, every single one of them - except for one. The one who usually would ramble on and on about some hot date he'd be seeing for Christmas.

Tony.

Gibbs felt like slapping himself in the back of the head. He should've realized earlier! Tony made no mention of his plans for Christmas and, with everyone so excited about their own plans, no one thought to question him. Not to mention, Tony still hadn't left by the time Gibbs had. In a flash, dinner was forgotten as Gibbs hurried to the door, grabbing his jacket on his way out.

"Leroy? Where are you going this time of night?" his father called after him.

"I forgot something," he called back. "Keep an eye on that turkey, Dad!"

That said, Gibbs rushed out the door.

Damn it, DiNozzo.

This is a line.

Back at NCIS, Tony was once again staring at the food he had laid out. It just didn't seem as appetizing as it would be if he was sharing it with someone. With a sigh, he pushed the plate away and leaned back in his chair briefly before rolling his chair back and standing. His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the emptiness. He was just about to sit back down again to try and go over some cold cases, when a familiar noise caught his attention, causing him to stiffen.

The elevator.

In a flash, Tony had his sig in his hand, moving cautiously towards the elevator. No one else was supposed to be in tonight, putting Tony's instincts on high alert. As soon as the doors opened, the senior field agent was swinging around, fully intending to put a few rounds in the intruder, until a familiar voice rang through his ears.

"DiNozzo!"

Unconsciously, Tony flinched, even though he knew exactly who it was. He lowered his sig, waiting expectantly for the head slap he knew would be coming as he closed his eyes. A few moments passed and, not feeling the familiar slap, he opened one eye, to find Gibbs looking at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth in amusement.

Ignoring the look, Tony began talking.

"Boss, I thought . . . I mean . . . you weren't . . . aren't."

This time, the head slap did come, although a bit more gentle than usual, if that was possible.

"Right. Shutting up, Boss."

Gibbs took in his agent in one glance. From the casual appearance of his clothes, to the accommodation of food littering his desk. Immediately, Gibbs knew. Tony was spending Christmas alone.

Catching the lead agent's gaze, Tony swallowed hard.

"Boss, I can explain," he began, but was cut off.

"There's no need to, DiNozzo."

Thinking he was in trouble for not telling Gibbs he had volunteered for duty during the Holidays, Tony lowered his head and moved towards his desk to start cleaning up his mess. So absorbed in his task, he didn't hear Gibbs dial a number and then push send.

"Hey, Abs," he greeted the person on the other line. "Do you have anything else planned tonight?"

This is a line.

It was so quiet in the bullpen, Tony could've sworn that Gibbs had left, but that thought was quickly erased when he turned around to see his boss sitting down at his desk. Frowning, Tony walked over to stand in front of the desk.

"Uh, Boss?" he started, confused. "I-I thought you have plans tonight. Isn't your dad waiting for you?"

Gibbs looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah. So?" he replied.

Tony didn't know what to make of this. He thought he was gonna be all alone tonight.

"Don't you have to go home and spend time with him?" he questioned again. "I'll bet he's waiting for you."

"You trying to get rid of me, DiNozzo?"

That made him go quiet and, without another word, he went back to his own desk to continue going through paperwork.

An hour later, the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a very excited and hyper Abby Scuito. Almost immediately, she flung herself into Tony's arms, hugging him tightly.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't have any plans for Christmas?" she demanded, punching him in the arm as she pulled out of the hug.

Rubbing his shoulder slightly, Tony tried to come up with an excuse, but, unable to think of one, remained silent.

Abby turned to Gibbs, her pigtails bouncing as she shifted from one foot to the other in front of his desk.

"Where are the others?" Gibbs asked, not bothering to look up from the papers in front of him.

"They're coming," the forensic scientist replied, eagerly.

"Others?" Tony repeated, frowning. "What are you-?"

At that moment, a commotion came from the elevator. Ziva, McGee, Jimmy, and Ducky all entered the bullpen, each holding some sort of dish. Behind them, a smiling Jackson Gibbs walked in as well, carrying the turkey. Tony's eyes widened in surprise and astonishment.

"But, what about your family waiting for you, McGee?" he asked, turning to his partner.

McGee just shrugged.

"Flight's been delayed because of the snow," he explained, setting down his dish filled with mashed potatoes. "It doesn't fly until tomorrow afternoon."

Tony didn't know what to say. He turned to Ziva, who was smiling at him.

"Don't tell me your neighbors cancelled on you," he pleaded, anxiously.

Ziva shook her head.

"If you have not noticed, Tony, it is 4 o'clock in the morning," she said. "They will not be opening presents or cooking breakfast for quite a few hours."

Tony didn't have to ask why Jimmy and Ducky were there. Obviously, Mrs. Mallard's nurse was called to fill in while they went out. For once, Tony was at a loss for words.

"Figured we couldn't let all this food go to waste, DiNozzo," Gibbs announced, nodding to all the food. "Help yourself."

Tony looked from one member of the team to the other, a wide grin spreading across his face. As they all gathered around in the bullpen, each person turned to Tony.

"Merry Christmas!"

Tony smiled and, unable to resist, replied, "God bless us everyone."

A loud groan went throughout the room, but no one commented on the reference. It wasn't needed. This wasn't just another Christmas. This Christmas, Tony had family to share it with.