"Come on, Junior, that isn't fair," complained DiNozzo senior, continuing an argument that was beginning to bore everyone in the squadroom. "I tried to stay a part of your life."

"Really? Let's a have a little pop quiz, Dad. When's my birthday?" demanded Tony.

His father's face went blank. "Your birthday? Of course I know your birthday, son. It's—it's in a few months, isn't it?"

Tony opened his mouth to correct him, but Ziva pre-empted him. Making a sound like buzzer going off, she said "Wrong! It's today, Mr. DiNozzo. Speaking of which, I broke our no presents rule." She dug a brightly wrapped package out of the back of her desk drawer and tossed it across the aisle. "I saw it in the store and just thought of you."

Tony unwrapped it hopefully. "A book, David? Entitled 'Dating in Your Forties'? Cute. Really funny," he complained as Ziva laughed, tucking the book away nevertheless.

"I don't know. I thought it was kind of funny," commented McGee, grinning at Tony's expression.

"Nobody asked for your probing, Probie! Speaking of which, what am I getting from you for my birthday?" Tony asked, somewhat greedily.

"Your birthday was today? Gosh, Tony, I must have forgotten," said McGee innocently.

"What? After all these years of working together, all this time we spent on the same team?" cried Tony, outraged. "See if you get a gift from me next year."

"The last gift you got me was 'A Geek's Guide to Dating,'" McGee reminded him. "I think Ziva's gift is karmic payback."

"So? That's no excuse . . . wait. Are you teasing me, McGeek?" gasped Tony.

"And enjoying every minute of it. Of course I remembered your birthday, Tony, you've reminded me everyday for weeks," McGee laughed. "The computer on your desk may look like the same computer you had yesterday on the outside, but on the inside, it is oh so different. I've doubled your memory capacity, cleaned your desktop, and tripled the processing speed."

"And the amazing McGeek strikes again!" Tony mock-cheered. "Battling the demons of low government budgets and crappy equipment with his mighty powers of a MIT education and techno-geekery-whatsit! Thanks, Probie."

"I just got tired of you claiming that you were taking a break while waiting for something to load," McGee insisted. "With the speed I gave your computer, that excuse is officially useless."

Tony's father watched the entire exchange with a strange expression on his face. "All right, next question," he ordered abruptly, startling Tony, who had almost forgotten his father was there.

"Okay, Dad—what's my favorite color?" he asked absently, already testing the effects of McGee's computer updates on his movie trivia game.

"Color? Ah, blue, isn't it?" suggested his father, somewhat hopelessly.

It was McGee's turn to make an angry buzzer noise. "Red," he informed the senior DiNozzo. "The color of his dream car."

"Can you say 'midlife catastrophe?'" taunted Ziva.

"Midlife crisis, Ziva," hissed McGee.

"Yes, what McGee said," Ziva corrected herself.

"Wanting to buy a red sports car doesn't indicate a midlife crisis," Tony insisted.

"No, but carrying on about it does," McGee informed him.

"I do not—"

"According to my computer, you spent forty minutes out of the last hour looking at pictures of red muscle cars online, Tony," Ziva told him.

"What? How did you hack my computer? McGee's the McGeek around here," Tony complained.

"I didn't," Ziva said, giving him her trademark sly smile. "I was bluffing."

"Not fair! You used that trick to get my sperm bank secret out of me, too!" whined Tony.

"And yet, you keep falling for it," noted McGee, laughing not unkindly.

"Two questions don't prove anything," muttered DiNozzo senior. "Another question!"

"What's my favorite Christmas movie?" questioned Tony.

"Uhh . . ." His father hesitated.

"Don't tell me you don't know that!" cried McGee. "Isn't it a DiNozzo family tradition to watch It's a Wonderful Life with caramel popcorn?"

"I said it was a DiNozzo family tradition. I never said how many members of the DiNozzo clan participated," grumbled Tony.

"Ha! Your Christmas tradition is to watch an old movie? Alone? Eating microwave popcorn?" cackled Ziva.

"Shut it, David. You don't even celebrate Christmas," Tony snapped.

"I did last year!" she reminded him. "With you, in MTAC."

"Yeah, but only after Ducky explained to you what Christmas was," Tony retorted.

"Didn't you tell me Christmas was the holiday for shopping, presents, and cheesy decorations? You are the last person to be bragging about understanding Christmas," chipped in McGee.

"McGoo! I already told you that no one wants your probing, Probie," Tony said.

Ziva zapped his hand with a rubber band from across the aisle, her assassin training giving her deadly accuracy and force. Tony was so startled he squeaked in pain and almost dropped his coffee.

"Hey! I'm interested in what McGee has to say," said Ziva. "What's this about Christmas being for 'shopping, presents and cheesy decoration?'"

"Well, this girl turned him down for a date, claiming that it was too close to Christmas and she was visiting family," explained McGee eagerly. "In a fit of bitterness, Tony said on the phone that Christmas was nothing but a commercial holiday, and the girl admitted that the real reason she had turned him down was—ah! That hurt, Tony." McGee cradled his hand where Tony's hurled stapler had cracked against it.

"Serves you right, McNosy, prying in other people's private lives," grumbled Tony.

"Oh, this coming from the man who once went through my trash to find out what sort of gum I used?" demanded Ziva, attempting to zap him with a second rubber band that he barely dodged.

"How did you know about—ah. You were bluffing? Again?" moaned Tony.

The entire team fell apart laughing. Tony hurled a pen at McGee, our of revenge. The younger agent held up a file as a shield, but he was too slow to stop the pen from smacking him on the head. DiNozzo's laughter was cut short when Ziva's stapler clocked him on the head. The sight of Gibbs passing through the squadroom on his way to the director's office stopped the hail of flying projectiles, but nothing could stop the three agents' laughter. They continued to laugh and banter, to joke and tease.

In the background, Tony's father slipped away. What was the point of a family reunion if you couldn't tell who were the friends, and who was the family?

(A/N: The idea behind this oneshot is, of course, that DiNozzo's father understands him less well than his co-workers. Enjoy.)