Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!

This chap is set during 6x19 'Hide and Seek'

Chapter 54 – Navy Rats ( i couldn't think of anything else, and in the ep McGee says something about a 'Navy Brat' so i thought "neh" and choose this)

"Aren't you supposed to make a bid?" Tony asked as he lent over McGee's shoulder.

McGee was at his computer preparing to make a bid on an auction so he could win a replacement set of golf clubs for Ducky (having run over Ducky's clubs).

"You don't place your bid until the very last moment so that no one has a chance to outbid you. It is called sniping and…" He clicked,

"You didn't win."

"I've been out-sniped."

"Speaking of snipers," Said Ziva, "has anyone seen Gibbs?"

"Gear up!" Abby called as she strode into the bullpen carrying coffee and glowering in a Gibbs impersonation,

"You're not Gibbs."

"There was a gun found in navy base housing."

"Abby, that doesn't warrant a team call-out." Kate told her, "A) There are thousands of guns on a navy base,"

"And B) you're not Gibbs." Added Tony,

"Okay, what if I told you that the base MPs gave me the gun to test?" Abby said, sounding more like her,

"Doesn't warrant a team call-out." Said McGee,

"And the gun was found under a kid's bed, and it was loaded." Abby was about to have a satisfactory sip of the coffee but frowned, a glared at the cup,

"Still does not warrant a call-out." Ziva said,

"And it was recently fired." Abby added,

"It's not a call-out." Tony, McGee, Ziva and Kate all said,

"You heard the lady; gear up." Gibbs strode into the room,

"They only listen to their master, Gibbs." Said Abby as the team grabbed their gear, "Only you can crack the whip. Only you can drink this swill." Abby gave Gibbs his coffee,

"It's just a gun on a navy base, boss."

"There's brain matter on the barrel, DiNozzo. Somebody shot someone in the head with that weapon."

"You left that part out, Abby."

"That's right, people." Abby called after them, "Mush. Wa-Chh!"

* * *

"Naked girls and guns." Grinned Tony,

They were sitting in Noah's room, the room where the gun had been kept hidden under a copy of Playpen in an old biscuit tin.

"That's what childhood dreams are made of."

"Guessing we experienced very different childhoods." McGee said as he bagged and tagged,

"You're going to tell me that little Timmy never had a magazine with pictures of girls?"

"Little Timmy never had a magazine with pictures of girls." Confirmed McGee,

"Pictures of boys?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. It was called Scouting Life." He turned to Tony, "I suppose you had a subscription to Playpen by age 12?"

"Ten. We all chipped in. Playpen was practically required reading back in boarding school."

McGee snatched the magazine off Tony and started to bag it.

"You know what my father would've done to me if he found this in my room?"

"Stolen it back?"

"Slap me on the side of the head with it."

"That sounds vaguely familiar."

* * *

"Ziva should you really be out here? Aren't you six months along?" Asked Kate as the team were led by Noah and his friends to where the really found the gun, and dead body.

"Closer to seven." Corrected Ziva, "And I am fine. This reminds me of the forests I used to have fun in as a child."

"Find that hard to believe." Commented Tony,

"What, that Israel had forests?"

"No, that you had fun as a child."

Ziva laughed, "Oh, sure. My father used to blindfold us and take us into the middle of the forest, and then we had to find our way out by ourselves."

"I stand corrected." Said Tony, "Just don't do that to our kids."

* * *

"Aren't they just the cutest little things?" Abby asked Gibbs as she looked at the larvae through a microscope. She got up and pointed at the plasma, where the image was displayed, "That's Bob, that's Norman, that's George. The wiggly one over here, he's Butch. And that is Charlie, and Xavier."

"They all boys?" Asked Gibbs,

"Let's hope so. Little girls can be such a pain."

"Well, so can the big ones."

Abby took the hint and turned away from the plasma screen, "I have more bugs from McGee, Gibbs. You want to meet the beetles?"

"I am more interested in the slugs. Like the one Ducky pulled from Dylan Bates."

"I haven't run the ballistics yet, Gibbs." Abby told him, "I'm starting it now. I've tested a lot of guns. But there's something wicked about this one. It's like; it's like
possessed or something."

"Is something on fire?"

"No, I'm just burning sage to take the hex off the gun." Abby explained indicating some burning candles. "It's got some bad mojo. And I want to get rid of it before the babies are born. It's an evil gun, Gibbs."

* * *

Jenny stepped out of the plane and walked along the corridor that would take her and the other passengers to the gate. The group followed the signs and found the luggage belt.

"Jethro!" Jenny ran forward and wrapped her arms around Gibbs.

He laughed, "You missed me Jen?"

Jenny just kissed him.

"Three weeks away is far too long." She mumbled against his lips,

"Got all your thinking done?"

"I did."

"And?"

"I made a decision."

"You gonna tell me?"

Jenny shook her head, "You're wearing cologne, I can't remember."

Gibbs chuckled, "I missed you too, Jen."

* * *

Later that day Gibbs walked back into Labby, where classical music could be heard.

"Abs? Music?"

"I know. I can barely stand it. I can't focus, it's affecting my cognitive function, I'm getting agitated. It's not for me, it's for them." She indicated the larvae, "Playing classical music for babies is supposed to increase their spatio-temporal reasoning
and increase intelligence."

She sighed, "I've been doing it for the little guy, and I don't want to disadvantage the boys, but if I keep listening to this, I'm going to turn into a psycho killer." She grabbed a remote and changed the music, "Ah." She sighed in content,

"Abs… our killer?"

* * *

"Legal said Rebecca Taffet's got a pretty strong case for involuntary manslaughter." McGee said as he got off the phone,

"Yeah, well, she'll need a good lawyer."

"It's taken care of. Travis's mother is gonna represent her."

"Was she the mum you were hot for?" Ziva asked, "Tony?"

"Shh. In a sec. Securely hidden in the shadows, the cunning marksman waits patiently for the perfect time to strike." He clicked and burst out laughing, "You are looking at the proud owner of a vintage set of Robert Forgan handcrafted mint condition golf clubs."

"That's impossible." McGee said standing,

"No, nothing is impossible." Tony put the image on the plasma, "I'm a sniper."

"Same exact set Ducky had?" Gibbs asked,

"1,200 for the clubs. Um, let's say a 100-dollar finder's fee, McGee."

"Except Ducky's right-handed." Kate grinned,

"These are left-handed clubs, Tony." McGee told him, "You just wasted 1,200 bucks."

"No." Tony looked at the screen and groaned, "Maybe Ducky swings both ways...? A thousand bucks and they're yours."

"Why would I buy a set of clubs that Ducky could not use?"

"Why? Oh, gee, let me think. I don't know, maybe because if you don't buy them, I will tell Ducky that you destroyed his one-of-a-kind, handcrafted hickory-shafted, vintage golf clubs." Threatened Tony,

Kate grinned again, "You just did."

"Let's call it even, Timothy." said Ducky as he walked into the bullpen, "That jazz guitar album that I borrowed from you?"

"My original vinyl pressing of Django Reinhardt's Crazy Rhythms?"

"Yeah, you were right. It was unique, it was original."

"It was autographed. What happened to it?"

"Good question." Ducky turned and walked away,

* * *

Tony and Ziva walked inside, "Tony you are going to sell those clubs and you are going to sell them with profit." Ziva told him,

"Don't you have any cousins or something that are left handed? What about your aunt Nettie?"

"She is left handed, all of my father's side are, but she does not play golf, or have need of the clubs."

"Wait. Yes! I just thought, I have someone I can give them to. I need to sort some things out between us."

"Your cousin?"

"Crispian? No way."

Ziva rolled her eyes, "I don't care Tony, sell them or give them away, I don't want them cluttering up our home."

* * *

Eli David sat in his office, massaging his temples, looking at a pile of envelopes in front of him. He reached out and took hold of his glass of whiskey and let the burning liquid rip at his throat.

After setting the glass down, his hand found the top most envelope, and the other found his letter opener. He ripped the seal open and pulled out the contents.

Dear Director David,

It was written in English.

My name is Anthony DiNozzo, and I am sure you know who I am, if not from your daughter then from your own investigations, (Or hers before she joined the team).

I write this letter as a peace offering. I know you don't think highly of me from the yelled conversation Ziva had in Hebrew after my return from being an Agent Afloat. I may not know Hebrew but her tone was enough for me to know she was extremely angry.

I want you to know that I love Ziva. I love her so much, and I accept her for who she is. She loves me, I know that, but I also know that you, like any father, don't approve of her relationship because you are protective of her.

When Ziva was last in Israel, I'm sure she told you of our engagement. Since then however, we have been wed. It wasn't a Jewish wedding, but don't worry, it wasn't a Catholic wedding either. We went to City Hall and signed a piece of paper, and now we are a lawfully wedded couple.

As she also told you, she was pregnant. And she still is.

She never went through the abortion you tried to force her to have. She is a wonderful mother, and she could never do that to her child.

I say 'is' because as you may not know her daughter Catryn found us. Samara and her husband (and their son) were killed in a car collision; Catryn's adopted grandfather helped her find Ziva and financed the trip.

On the same day Ziva and I got married I adopted Catryn.

I am not Jewish. I am not Israeli. But Ziva is my wife. Catryn is my daughter. And that unborn bundle of joy is my child. I love them. And I hope. I truly hope you loved them too.

Because even if you loved half as much as I do; that would be enough.

Shalom Aba, Leila Tov,

Anthony D. DiNozzo.

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