Chapter Two: Delivery of Santa's Helper

A week later, Vance threw the office party. It was a rather quiet affair, with everyone from the NCIS teams and associated departments gathering in the lounge. There were cookies, snacks, bowls of punch and sodas. Holiday music played, and people exchanged gifts. McGee was one of the earlier to arrive, having gone straight to the event when Gibbs dismissed the team. He kept an eye on the door, waiting for his boss to show, wondering if he actually would. Some years Gibbs came, some years he didn't. The gift giving could be done at any time, of course, since some people had no chance to attend, but...this would make it easier.

Finally, with half an hour left to the end of the party, he saw Gibbs enter. The man made straight for the drink bar, poured himself a cup, then glanced around. Ducky was already there, in full discussion with someone McGee didn't recognize, but he spotted his longtime friend and waved. "Jethro!"

"So, are you going to give him something now?" McGee jumped. He'd been so busy watching Gibbs move through the crowd that he hadn't heard Ziva come up behind him. He blushed at her knowing smile, glad he hadn't had a drink in hand.

"Um, yes, I was." He pulled a card from the inner pocket of his suit. "I got him a Christmas card and a gift card to a hardware store. I hear it sells really good wood and tools. I found it online, then went and got a card for him."

"I think he will appreciate it." Ziva nodded.

McGee swallowed. "Did you get everything? You know...for what we discussed?" He knew Gibbs was unlikely to hear him, across the crowd and the music, but there was always a chance. No matter what people said about his eyesight, no one had ever implied that the man had less than phenomenal hearing.

"I did. Tony turned in his part this morning, and Palmer gave me his just before I came here." Ziva nodded. "They are in my car. I will get Abby to handle the final details, and then I will drop them off tonight."

"Okay. Thanks Ziva." He swallowed. "Sorry, I'm just really nervous about this."

"I know that. After all, if it does prove to be problematic, you will have the entire team out for your blood." She grinned at him.

"Thanks for reminding me." He shot her a glare, but he knew the comment had been justified.

"Do not worry. I do not think it will be bad. In fact, I think you are doing a good thing, a kind thing, by giving him this. I think Gibbs will understand the meaning behind this." She looked across the crowd. "However, I think now would be a good time to give him your gift for the party. Otherwise, he will wonder why you are so jumpy, and then he will start asking awkward questions."

"Thanks." He swallowed again, then began working his way through the crowd to Gibbs.

Gibbs was talking quietly to Abby and Ducky when he made it over to them. Or, more accurately, he was listening while Abby and Ducky discussed the roller-blades Tony had given the Goth, decorated with little bats. He'd just come to a stop when Abby spotted him. "McGee!"

"Hey Abby. Ducky. Boss." He managed a small smile. "How's the party?"

"Oh, it's going well. Abby here was just telling us how Anthony brought her a most useful and appropriate gift." Ducky smiled. "I was granted the honor of gifting the Director's secretary this year. I do hope she likes what I got her. And you, Jethro?"

A rare half-smile cracked Gibbs' face. "Got one of the psych people. Gave her a written promise not to put send her any of my team. Or more than half a dozen of my arrests this year."

"I'm sure they appreciated that." Ducky smiled back, and McGee and Abby both shared uncertain grins. After over five years, McGee still wasn't sure when Gibbs was joking. Not always, at any rate. He was jarred from the question as Ducky turned to him. "And you, Timothy?"

"Um...well, I haven't gotten anything, but...actually, I came over here because...well..." he flushed, then pulled the card from his pocket again, and held it out to Gibbs. "Ummm...I drew you this year boss. So...well, I got you this, and I hope you like it."

"No need to look so panicked McGee. I'm not gonna yell at you." Gibbs shifted the drink in his hand, took the card, and slipped it open. He pulled it out, frowned at the print on the front, then handed it to Abby. "Can you read that? Left my glasses on the desk."

"It's adorable." She flipped the card open. "Hey, there's something inside." She grinned. "Right up your alley, Gibbs." She presented him with the card. "Fifty dollars to a woodwork supply store."

Gibbs studied it. "Thanks, McGee."

McGee let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "You're welcome boss. And...well, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, McGee." Gibbs gave him another small smile. The talk drifted into other channels, the group broke up to talk to other people, and, all too soon, it was time to break up and head for home.

McGee left fairly early. He felt nervous. A quick glance through the parking lot told him that Gibbs was gone, and Ziva was not. He sighed. The team had Christmas off, barring any major call-outs, which they were all hoping to avoid. There was nothing to do but wait, and see what happened.

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Gibbs settled down at his work table with a sigh, and studied the items that covered it. Abby had asked him to donate something to her favorite charity hospital for Christmas, and he'd said yes. Most of the projects he had were completed, but a few needed to be assembled, and there was some paint to be applied in some cases. He sighed, reached across the table, and began to work.

He'd been working steadily for about an hour, and finished assembling two more items when he heard soft footsteps on the stairs. He looked up as Ziva came down, carrying a box. "Ziva."

"Gibbs. I saw you at the party, but we did not get much chance to speak. Do you mind?" She came to the bottom step, then moved to set the box on one of his work benches by the wall.

"Nope." He gestured at the toys littering the table. "Wanna help?"

"I do not think so. I am not so very good with that sort of thing. I learned the basics, like every other Mossad, but I do not have the patience to be truly good at it."

"Suit yourself." He went back to his work. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

"Only that I wanted to wish you Merry Christmas. I do not celebrate the traditional holiday, of course, but I see nothing wrong with joining in a season of giving. Sometimes I think there is not enough of it. Although...all these songs about the reindeer...and the man..."

"Santa?"

"Yes. Him. It is quite puzzling, where this mythical figure came from."

"You could ask Ducky. I'm sure he knows the story from somewhere." Gibbs smiled.

"I am sure he does." Ziva smiled.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Gibbs working and Ziva enjoying the quiet. Then Gibbs tilted his head. "What's the box?"

"Something I am delivering for Abby." Ziva shrugged. "Since I am not as busy celebrating, she asked if I would deliver a few things for her, to help her out."

"She send you by to see if I'm finished yet?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "I told her I'd handle it."

"She did not." Ziva shook her head. "I was merely in the neighborhood, and thought I would drop in for a brief moment."

"Why'd you carry that in?"

"Because I did not want to leave it in the car." Ziva tilted her head. "Abby did mention that you would be contributing. I thought perhaps I could...save you a trip, I think is the phrase."

"Sounds right. But I'm not done yet."

"That is fine. It will do me no harm, carrying it." Ziva shrugged, then changed the subject. "So...I know Tony will be attending as many parties as he can get into. McGee will spend his time with his family, as will Abby and Ducky. What will you do, Gibbs?"

"Relax." He blew some wood dust off the surface, and studied the piece he was working on. "Carve. Spend the gift card McGee gave me." He set it down and selected another. "Might go see my dad for a few days."

"That sounds excellent. I believe I will relax as well." She smiled.

They sat in an amiable half-silence for a while, trading odd comments. Then Ziva rose from her seat on his stairs and stretched. "I think I should be going now. I wish you a pleasant evening, Gibbs."

"Yeah. You too. Night, Ziva." He was too busy pressing glue into a dollhouse frame to look up, but he heard the nearly soundless tread as she went up the stairs. Moments later, there was the faintest click and thump of the door upstairs opening and closing.

He finished with the dollhouse, set it aside to dry, and rose to stretch and grab a glass of bourbon. Then he stopped, frowning.

The box Ziva had brought in was still sitting on his workbench where she'd put it. It wasn't like Ziva to forget anything, particularly not something she was taking care of at Abby's request. And it wasn't as if the box was small enough to have been easily missed. He frowned again, then set the glass down and moved over to the box. If it was going the same place his delivery was, he'd text her and tell her he'd take care of it. If not, he'd text her and remind her that she'd left it. He reached it, flicked on a light to see better. One eyebrow rose in surprise.

The box was labeled, in what was clearly Abby's handwriting. Her special handwriting, the calligraphy she only used for very special occasions.

TO: Very Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs

FROM:The Members of Team Gibbs

He blinked, a smile curling one side of his mouth. Not only had she written it across the tape, to leave no doubt, but each of his team had signed it. He found McGee's precise handwriting, Tony's scribble, Abby's bold markings. Ducky had inscribed his usual flair, and even Palmer had signed.

The tape was across the top, and the edges. He smiled again, realizing that someone, probably Tony, from the handwriting, had written on the tape. 'OPEN HERE'. Then, in parenthesis, 'come on boss, you know you want to'.

The sight of the definite challenge had a chuckle sneaking it's way out of his chest. He had to laugh at their audacity. And he didn't question why it had been Ziva who'd delivered the package. She was the only one who had even a hope of pulling it off with a straight face. He had to admit, it had been a while since anyone on his team had managed to deliver that much misdirection so fluidly.

He chuckled again, then pulled the knife out of his back pocket and carefully slit the tape on the sides, then across Abby's signature. He flipped the knife closed, then pulled the flaps apart, and looked into the box.

Six moderately wide books looked back at him. They were arranged, dark-hued spines facing upward, each at least an inch to two inches across the back. And they were lettered. He pulled them closer, and realized that each book had one of his team's names written across the back in gold ink. It looked like Abby's penmanship again, as if she'd made an attempt at an amateur embossing job. A rather good attempt at that. He ran his fingers over the spines, feeling the texture and the slight indentation of each name. Anthony DiNozzo Jr. Ziva David. Timothy McGee. Abigail Scuito. Donald Mallard. And Jimmy Palmer. Six books. One for each member of his team. There was a small piece of paper tucked to one side, the official kind used for cards and such. He pulled it out and unfolded it, flipping his glasses out of a pocket to read the words.

Dear Gibbs,

We know, Jethro, that you never say you want anything for Christmas. But our dear Timothy has come up with a rather interesting idea for you for this year. Rather than risk your refusal, we have decided to simply deliver it, and hope that you will accept it in the spirit with which it is given. So, my dear friend, I hope you will at least take a look at the offering which is provided. In the meantime, it is my pleasure to say that we all wish you the very best, and a very Merry Christmas.

Signed,

Ducky (And the rest of Team Gibbs)

He chuckled. "Christmas gift, huh, Duck? Didn't expect you to be in on a conspiracy." He set the paper aside, then looked into the box. His eyes and fingers found the spine of the book labeled 'Donald Mallard'. He considered a moment, then pulled the book out and flipped it over to see the front cover.

The cover was decorated with the letters 'NCIS'. Followed by: 'Team Gibbs'. Then, lower down, Ducky's name again. Gibbs studied it a moment, impressed by the level of work that had gone into it, then he settled back on the edge of the table and flipped the book open.

Author's Note: So...the next few chapters will be everybody's scrapbooks. If you've got any favorite memories you like from the episodes...any and all ideas appreciated! As are reviews.