A/N: Originally, I thought chapter 12 would be the last one. But when I was done writing it, I knew I needed one more. So here is the real final chapter. Hope you all enjoy some team family/friendship stuff.
Chapter 13
"Gibbs, why didn't you tell me that you don't have any pots?" Abby asked, starring at the empty cupboards in Gibbs' kitchen.
"You didn't ask," Gibbs replied with a shrug.
Abby frowned. "Don't you ever cook?"
"Don't need pots to make steak."
Abby sighed and reached for her cell phone. "… McGee? Where are you?"
"On my way to Gibbs' house. Why?" McGee asked.
"I need you to pick up some stuff first," Abby explained and gave him the list – it was a pretty long list.
"Uh, okay, got it." McGee replied. "But, uh, Abby, are you planning on cooking yourself?"
"Ziva agreed to help, but she's not here yet. Are you saying you don't trust me, McGee?"
"What?... Uh, no, I was just wondering which recipe includes Caf-Pow."
Abby rolled her eyes. "Just get here, McGee. And don't forget anything!" She hung up and looked at Gibbs. "Do you think we should be worried that Ziva's not here yet?"
"Nah." Gibbs shook his head. "You know Ziva."
Abby nodded, even though she wasn't entirely convinced. But whenever someone tried to kill her, she usually was a little on edge for a couple of days, so it was probably best to trust Gibbs' judgment on this – not that it wasn't always best to trust Gibbs' judgment… "So, how are you doing, Gibbs?"
He just gave her his signature look. "I'm fine, Abs. I'm not the one who got shot at."
"Actually, you sort of are. You're the one he targeted with all this. And I just don't want you to blame yourself, Gibbs, because it wasn't your fault."
"I'm good, Abs," Gibbs assured her, but Abby still took a few more seconds to look at him because she knew him well enough to know that he usually refused to openly display his emotions.
That's just who he was, and Abby had organized this dinner to show him – without the need for words – that his team supported him, no matter what.
"Alright then, let's get cooking!"
Of course there wasn't much they could do just yet, but Abby suggested they get started on the potatoes – only that turned out to be anything but fun.
"Urgh, I never realized how disgusting these things really are," she complained, spending several minutes on peeling only one potato.
"Then why did you want to eat them?" Gibbs asked. He was much faster but also less meticulous.
Abby shrugged. "They're alright once they are properly cooked and mashed and all that. Plus, I planned on ordering McGee to take care of them."
Gibbs laughed and that made the whole thing worth her while after all.
Finally, McGee arrived, and since he was somewhat of a control freak, he actually hadn't forgotten a single item from the list. He had also run into Ducky and Palmer in the driveway, and the elder medical examiner and his assistant helped Gibbs to get all the kitchen stuff into the kitchen while Abby and McGee hung back.
"Hey, Abby, I didn't mean to offend you when I asked whether you were doing the cooking. I just never figured you to be chef material."
"Did you think that Ziva's cooking would rock before she invited us over for the first time?" Abby asked.
McGee hesitated. "Uh, no, good point. As I said, it was a stupid Tony-like thing to say, and I'm sorry."
"Hey, first of all, no breaking rule no. 6, and second, it's okay, McGee," Abby said.
But he shook his head. "No, really, I don't want you to think that I don't trust your ability to master everything you set your mind to…"
Abby smiled because it was cute how anxious he was to apologize, but still she interrupted him, "Seriously, Timmy, we're good, and I've already decided not to slip rat poison in your dinner."
"Oh, good."
They went back into the kitchen, and when Abby was just about to call Ziva for the third time before imploring Gibbs to go looking for her after all, the front door was opened and Tony called:
"Stop eating immediately! I demand my fair share of dinner!"
Abby ran into the hall and was relieved to see him and Ziva getting rid of their coats. "Dinner's not even ready, yet, Tony. We were waiting for our chef," she said.
"I am sorry, Abby," Ziva replied. "Tony kept me."
"Excuse me? I kept you? Aren't we forgetting a tiny little something here, Zee-vah?" Since Ziva didn't say anything and Abby looked at them questioningly, Tony explained, "Our little Miss-I-am-so-much-tougher-than-you-because-I-can-kill-you-twenty-different-ways-you-have-never-even-heard-of had skipped all of her scheduled follow-up exams at Bethesda. So we had to make a little stop at the hospital before coming here. Isn't that right, Zee-vah?"
"Yes, so the doctors there could tell me that everything was fine, just like I told you," Ziva replied.
"Yeah, so no harm in going."
"No harm and no sense."
"Oh, forgive me for caring about your health!"
"There is nothing wrong with my health, Tony!"
"Hey!" An annoyed Ziva, affronted Tony, and grinning Abby all turned towards Gibbs. "Are we ever gonna eat today, or what?"
Tony and Ziva looked chastised, and Ziva came back into the kitchen with Abby, which finally got them started on dinner.
An hour later, Tony wouldn't stop bothering them. "Can we eat now? I'm starving!"
"We're still waiting for the director," Abby replied. "I told her to come by a little later because I wasn't sure if I could ask her to help make dinner."
Gibbs laughed. "Jen never cooked a dinner in her life."
"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, Jethro. Last time I checked making steaks on a kitchen grill didn't exactly add up to being a five-star chef yourself," the director's voice came from the doorway.
Abby had no idea how Gibbs could stand living with that open front door. But he seemed unfazed.
"Doesn't matter how I make my steaks, they still make a decent dinner."
"Could you all stop talking about delicious food as long as I can't have any?" Tony interjected.
"Stop whining, Tony! Dinner's ready," Ziva announced, which finally made them sit down at the table (which consisted of three little camping tables because Gibbs didn't have a real dining table. Guess there were a couple of things Abby hadn't thought about before coming here).
"This is absolutely delicious, my dears," Ducky was the first to comment on the food, looking at Ziva and Abby.
The latter grinned at the Scotsman. "Thank you, Ducky, but Ziva deserves all the praise, really."
"But without you we wouldn't even be here, Abby," Palmer reminded them.
"Which would be a damn shame because this… is… damn… good," Tony got out between mouthfuls.
"Uh, thank you, I guess," Ziva replied.
"Yes, you finally got something right, Tony," McGee added with a grin.
Tony gulped down some water. "Not now, McTease. I'm enjoying this fabulous meal. I'll get to you later."
"Okay, before this gets any more out of hand, I think we forgot something," the director said. "A toast."
Abby lowered her fork. "You're right! How come I didn't think of that? Everybody: stop eating!" They did as she said, even though Tony looked reluctant, but he knew better than to argue with her. Pleased, Abby turned towards their leader since he seemed to be the natural choice. "Gibbs?"
But he in turn looked at the director sitting next to him. "I think our director should do the honors," he said.
Jenny looked surprised but not unpleasantly so. "Alright," she nodded and reached for her glass of whine. The others followed suit. "Here's to… another job well done and… to family."
"To family," it echoed around the table, and Abby beamed at McGee while sipping at her glass, and she didn't fail to notice that Tony and Ziva were exchanging long looks as well.
The rest of the dinner passed in a cheerful and surprisingly peaceful mood, and afterwards they started clearing the table and dispersed into smaller groups. Abby was about to go into the kitchen to help Ziva wash up when she realized that the beautiful Israeli woman already had all the help she would need.
"Seriously, Ziva, you've outdone yourself. Dinner was great," Tony said, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"Yes, you already said that. Stop talking trash and make yourself useful," Ziva replied and handed him a towel.
He didn't complain and started drying up the dishes she handed him. "Why did you thank Ducky when he complemented you but accuse me of talking trash?" he asked.
"Because you usually do," Ziva answered with a smile on her lips.
"Hey, I can be serious, too!" Tony complained.
Ziva shrugged. "Then perhaps you should try it more often because it didn't stick with me."
"Oh, you want a sample, is that it?" Tony put down the towel. "Fine, here goes: I dragged you to the hospital today because realizing that this bastard had almost killed you totally freaked me out and not because of your Mossad superwoman attitude, but because I don't think I could stand losing you as my partner. How's that for being serious?"
Ziva had dropped the plate she'd been scrubbing into the sink and looked at Tony, her eyes the softest of all browns. "Not bad. Not bad at all," she finally responded softly.
Abby smiled to herself and turned around to give the two some privacy. Back in the living room, she searched for some electronic device she could use to put some of the music on she had brought and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Gibbs and the director were sitting on the sofa, drinking bourbon.
"Thanks for letting me do the toast," Jenny said, sipping her wine.
Gibbs shrugged. "You're better at this kind of thing. Always have been."
"What kind of thing?" Jenny asked.
"Speeches, politics, stuff like that," Gibbs replied.
Jenny nodded, but she seemed thoughtful. "Actually, I've been thinking about that… you know how it is, being in a hospital there's not much else to do… Anyway, I've been wondering whether I really made the right decision in leaving the active field work."
Gibbs smiled. "Told ya."
"Yes, I know." Jenny sighed.
Gibbs seemed to realize that she was serious about this. In any case, he said, "Not too late to go back, Jen."
"Oh no, it is. Way too much humiliation. Everybody would think that I simply wasn't up to the job. Plus, if I left, I would have to leave all of this. But the people in this house are the closest thing I'll ever have to a family."
"You never talked about wanting a family, Jen."
The director sighed again. "I guess I always thought that there was still time."
"You still have time," Gibbs said.
She looked up from her glass and into his eyes. "You really think so?"
"Yah."
A small, hopeful smile spread across Jenny's face. "Listen, Jethro, there's something else that's been bothering me. When you had left my house, I realized that I had never thanked you… for saving my life, I mean. So… thank you."
Gibbs just gave her one of his half-smiles. "No need to thank me."
"Why not?"
"Because you're family for me, too, Jen."
Abby tried to hide her grin and gave up on her hunt for a CD player. Apparently, nobody around here needed music to engage in stimulating conversation. Abby decided to go join McGee, Ducky, and Palmer to help them find a more interesting topic than golfing.
She had already decided to make this a regular thing. Apparently, a nice dinner after a stressful week, no matter whether somebody got shot at or not, was exactly what they had needed. Not that this came as a surprise to her.
It was the perfect thing for them to do as a family.