Title: The Way the Cookie (Doesn't) Crumble
Pairing: Tony/McGee established relationship
Characters: Tony, McGee, Jethro the Dog (offscreen appearance )
Rating: T
Genre: Humor, Romance
Cat: Slash
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Tony has an idea of how he and McGee should spend their day off work leading to the holidays. But it's not really what McGee's expecting.
Prompt: Written as a Secret Santa 2015 fic for tigyr on NFA. For this fic, I used a couple of the options Lori suggested, which were McNozzo as a pairing, then the prompts of baking & animals (well, loosely, since Jethro IS in the fic).

"All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu!" Tony's voice echoed through the apartment, echoed by the howl of a German Shepherd.

"Oh, geez, not both of you at once," a tired voice said, and Tony grinned at his partner.

"Morning, McSunshine," he greeted from where he stood at the stove, scrambling some eggs as they cooked in a pan. "Sleep well? Breakfast is just about ready."

"Thanks," Tim murmured, his eyes still droopy with sleep. "You make coffee?"

Tony pointed the spatula in his hand at the opposite counter, where the coffeemaker stood, bubbling happily. Tim muttered something that sounded like gratitude and headed for the machine, retrieving a gigantic mug from the cupboard and pouring himself enough coffee for three people, then headed for one of the stools at the island on the other side of the room.

Tony waited until Tim had taken a few sips of his coffee before attempting conversation again. "So, we have the day off..." he started, and McGee interrupted him with a yawn.

"So why am I awake right now?" he said, the words barely coherent through said yawn, then he nodded. "Oh, right. Someone was howling and woke me up."

Tony shrugged and made a face. "You know, I talked to him about that, but do you think he listened?"

McGee mustered up the motivation to glare at him. "I wasn't talking about Jethro."

Tony thumped his fist to his chest, putting on an anguished expression. "Just stab me in the heart, why don't you?"

McGee rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you're real torn up, I get it. What's your plan? If it involves me going back to bed after I eat breakfast, I am all for it."

"As not exciting as that sounds, McSleepyhead, not exactly what I had in mind." He turned off the burner and removed the pan from the stove, spooning a heaping helping of eggs onto two plates, topping the piles with crispy strips of bacon, then turning to the toaster, which popped up 4 slices of golden brown toast right when he looked at it. He turned back to McGee with a triumphant smile, then said, "Wanna grab the butter and jam for me?"

McGee grumbled, but his stomach grumbled louder, and he walked to the refrigerator, retrieving the condiments for Tony. Tony took pleasure in slathering his toast slices with both butter and jam, while McGee relegated one slice for butter only and the other for jam. Tony watched him in amusement, shaking his head. The toast thing was just another McQuirk that made him even more loveable.

They took their plates to the counter and sat, shoveling huge forkfuls of eggs into their mouths (seasoned with salt and pepper for McGee and ketchup for Tony - "Ketchup, Tony?" McGee had said the first time he'd seen him do it, and Tony had just given him a wide-eyed look while he licked his fork, and that had shut McGee up for awhile). Eventually, McGee remembered that Tony had a plan for their day, and though he knew he was probably going to regret it, he figured he should find out what it was before saying no.

"So," he started, waiting for Tony to pick up on the unasked question and fall over himself selling his plan.

But, of course, this was Tony and food was involved, so McGee's luck wasn't that good.

"What?" Tony asked around the bite of toast he'd just taken.

McGee stared at him, then said, "Your plan! What is it?"

"Oh!" A fine mist of crumbs sprayed across the counter and near McGee's plate (he saw it coming and slid his plate out of the way before the crumbs contaminated it) as Tony finished chewing and shot his partner a disarming grin. Well, it would be disarming on someone who wasn't expecting it. And McGee definitely expected it. "I just thought we could bake cookies."

McGee didn't say anything at first, just sat blinking at Tony, until Tony set down his half-eaten piece of toast, looking a lot less confident than he had while pitching his idea. "What? You look like I just suggested we do paperwork for fun."

"I just. . ." McGee started, then let his mouth hang open as he tried to wrap his mind around what Tony had just suggested. "Cookies?"

Tony's voice was small. "I like cookies."

"Well, yeah, so do I, but if I want cookies, I'll go buy them at the store or bakery," McGee said. "Ya know, have someone else bake them."

Tony had returned to his toast and crunched his way through his next words. "Why are you being such a McScrooge about this? People do this every year around Christmas."

McGee just gave him a look. "We are not people, Tony."

Tony swallowed. "Are you finally admitting to being an Elf Lord, Timmy? Because if so, I'm proud of you, and it doesn't make me love you any less."

"Tony."

"Tim."

And there it was, that little pout that turned McGee into a helpless puddle of goo every time. It didn't matter how much he tried to fight it, it was impossible to resist, and he soon found himself sighing and saying, "Do we have everything we need?"

Tony's pout turned into a dazzling grin as he bounced off his stool and dashed behind McGee, throwing his arms around him and squeezing, then smacking a loud kiss to his cheek. "You think I hadn't thought that far ahead, Love Bug?" McGee gave him a sidelong look and Tony made a face. "Well, I thought you would say no, so you're right, we need to go shopping."

He hopped away from McGee before he could say anything else and McGee just stared at him as he collected the dirty dishes and rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. Once Tony was done dancing around the kitchen, he looked back to McGee, who hadn't moved from his spot. "What?"

"You thought I was going to say no?" And then he was the one to wear the pout, the one that made him look even younger than he already did, and Tony was at his side in an instant.

"Aw, no, of course not!" he soothed, and when McGee gave him the pitiful puppy dog eyes in addition to the pout, Tony knew he couldn't deny it any longer. "Okay, yeah, I thought you were going to say no." McGee's mouth dropped open and Tony shook a finger at him. "But look what happened! You said no! It's a good thing I can be persuasive."

McGee just sighed and stood up. "Let me get dressed and we can go to the store."

Tony stopped him before he could leave the room, giving him a soft kiss. "I love you," he said softly.

And despite McGee's annoyance, he couldn't help but smile when he heard that. "Love you, too, Tony."

Half an hour later, they stood in the entrance of the closest grocery store. McGee grabbed one of the smaller carts and turned to Tony as they walked into the store. "So what do we need?"

Tony looked up from his phone at the sound of McGee's voice. "Hmm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Ingredients? For cookies? What are we making, what do we need?"

Tony screwed up his face. "Sugar? Butter? Eggs? Whatever else goes in cookies?"

The cart nearly rolled away as McGee stopped in place, an expression of disbelief on his face. "You didn't look at a recipe?" Tony glanced down at his phone and McGee grabbed it from him. "Give that to me. What are you. . ." He trailed off as he looked down at the screen and then back to Tony. "Really, Tony? Ridiculous Fishing?"

Tony shrugged. "It's fun."

McGee snorted. "Don't show that to Gibbs. He'll get ideas." He handed the phone back, but not before saying, "Now use that for something useful and find us a good cookie recipe."

Tony grinned. "I've got the perfect idea. . ."

"You know, Tony, snickerdoodles really aren't a traditional Christmas cookie."

Tony threw the ball of dough back into the mixing bowl. "It's a cookie and it's Christmas! Therefore, Christmas cookie!"

McGee's eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline and he muttered under his breath, "Technically it's not Christmas yet. . ."

Tony heard him, despite his lowered voice, and leaned over the counter to get in his face. "Christmas. Cookie," he hissed.

McGee met his glare with one of his own and they had a staredown, until he cracked, unable to hold back a smile.

Tony grinned as he backed away from the counter. "That mean I win?" he asked, and McGee's scowl returned.

"Win what?"

"Never mind," Tony said as he focused his attention back on their cookie dough. He cleared his throat. "So, how about we get these in the oven and then I show you how I plan on us spending the holidays?"

McGee raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I even want to know?"

Tony gave him a seductive smile and swaggered around the counter, McGee turning to face him as Tony placed his hands on McGee's hips and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to his lips. Just when things were getting interesting, Tony pulled back, leaving McGee pouting.

He laughed, then walked back around the counter. "Cookie, then nookie," he said, and McGee groaned at the terrible rhyme that was all too Tony, but quickly got his wits together and helped to make the cookies, too eager to get to the "nookie" part of Tony's plan to care about his corniness.

45 minutes later, they were well into a rather heated make out session when McGee broke away from Tony, sniffing the air.

"Do you smell something burning?" he asked, and Tony jumped to his feet, rushing into the kitchen.

"The cookies!" he yelled, as he yanked the oven door open, releasing a cloud of smoke.

McGee ran in to help wave away the smoke, coughing as Tony donned an oven mitt and reached in to retrieve the now blackened cookies. He dumped the pan in the sink while McGee closed the oven door, then put a comforting hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Maybe Jethro will eat them?" he suggested, and was met with a withering glare from Tony. He shrugged, backing away, and muttered, "I knew baking was a bad idea."

As it turned out, Jethro was not interested in a batch of burnt snickerdoodle cookies, and McGee attempted to make the situation up to Tony by buying a couple dozen cookies from a local bakery.

"It's just not the same," Tony whined as they sat down with the cookies and some milk. He held one up, then bit into it, trying to hide his pleasure, but failing epically.

McGee rolled his eyes at Tony's reaction, then took a bite of his own cookie. "Not as good as Nutter Butters, but not bad."

Tony gaped at him. "Nutter Butters? Not bad?!" He shook his head in dismay. "I should replace you."

McGee pouted. "But I bought you cookies."

Tony took another bite of the cookie in his hand and chewed thoughtfully. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded. "Plus, I've grown fond of that pudgy little belly." He poked McGee in said belly, while McGee squirmed at his touch.

"Not pudgy anymore, Tony. You're pudgier than I am."

"Please. You're looking at a six-pack here."

"Six-pack of beer, maybe."

"Oh, you are going to get it."

And get it McGee did. All night long.

THE END!