Title: On HBO
Author: MissJayne
For: Lanie's Light
Rating: K+
A/N: Merry Christmas! Before anyone asks about the title, it's meant to run on from the title of the collection. And virtual mistletoe to anyone who can guess the three prompts I was tempted to use – I've included them all somewhere…
Anthony DiNozzo loved Christmas. It wasn't his favorite time of year – he would happily swear Valentine's Day had been created solely for him – but it was pretty darn close. Mistletoe and presents and cute women dressed in Santa outfits…
And the food! It was the one time of the year no one called him greedy for stuffing his face. He could eat the gorgeous food someone else cooked from sunrise to sunset. Ham and turkey and sausages and bacon and every vegetable under the sun. It was as though he was in heaven for a day.
This year appeared especially promising. Abby, the happiest Goth he'd ever met, had somehow persuaded Ducky to host it. The Scottish doctor had decorated his house from top to toe with all kinds of decorations, from both his homeland and his adopted home. Stockings hung from the fireplace, which hosted a roaring fire. Candy canes covered every surface. Yards of tinsel rested on bookshelves. A huge wreath had been hung on the front door. Mistletoe had been pinned above every doorway. The most beautiful Christmas tree Tony had ever seen sat in the living room, and he, Ziva, McGee and Abby had spent the previous day decorating it with baubles, fairy lights, chocolates wrapped in foil (which Ducky had promised they could eat when the tree came down), lamettea, glazed cookies and old, homemade decorations while Ducky had prepared food.
Ducky had spent last night, Christmas Eve, regaling them all with tales of the festive season from his youth in Scotland – of snow blanketing the world outside, cutting every place off from its neighbors and making the world look like a postcard.
They had slept in the living room at Abby's insistence, watching the lights twinkle on the tree and attempting to scare each other with ghost stories. Only the sensitive Probie had screamed, admittedly because Abby had jumped on his back in the dark hallway when he'd walked to the kitchen for coffee, but it counted, right? Ziva had given him nightmares with her tales of golems and mazikim, not that he'd ever admit it.
"It's Christmas!" Abby squealed at the top of her lungs for the umpteenth time that morning. She had been downing Caf-Pows! for hours and Tony thought it about time someone cut off her supply.
"Indeed it is," Ducky smiled at her, somehow achieving the impossible and calming her down slightly while simultaneously keeping her happy. "Why don't we take advantage and open a few gifts before I put the turkey in the oven?"
As Abby bounded off to locate McTardy, Tony sidled up to Ducky. "Did you invite Gibbs? Or is he spending the day in his basement with a boat and bourbon? I mean, since Jenny died, he's been –"
The doctor shook his head. "Alas, not even Abigail could persuade the man to join us. She did, however, insist on leaving Bert with him to provide a little company. Jethro needs to spend the day alone, but I am sure he will welcome visitors tomorrow."
The two men grinned as Abby reappeared, pulling McGee along while trying to shove antlers on his head. As they followed the Goth and the geek into the living room, Ducky murmured to Tony, "He can take care of himself."
Leroy Jethro Gibbs woke up slowly. No alarm clock, no call on his cell to disturb his sleep. Just another warm body wrapped in the sheets with him, the same as every other day.
The blinds had been left open the night before so they could lie in bed together and watch small flakes of snow fall from the sky. As he opened his eyes, he caught sight of the torrent of snow falling past his window. It brought a smile to his face; she would love it.
Peace reigned over the house; the only sound was their breathing. He took the time to admire the small parts of her that were not cocooned in the covers – the top of her head, a mass of red curls that peeked out and made her look like his own Christmas angel; a hand that had wormed its way out at some point in the night to presumably check her Blackberry. He chuckled; she was still attached to the damn thing.
Her breathing was slow and steady, and he no longer took it for granted. Instead, he listened, content to lie with her (he refused to admit to snuggling).
After a while, he moved one hand over the covers to her wrist, wishing to calm his irrational fears and check her pulse, as if he did not already do so several times a day. The movement woke her and she stretched, cat-like.
"Morning," she mumbled, clearly half-asleep. "M'alive. Still. Go back to sleep."
"Merry Christmas, Jen," he whispered in her ear, knowing the magic words to rouse her. There were others too, but these would do for now.
Jenny woke up a little bit more, rolling onto her back so she could see his face. "Has Santa been?" she asked impishly.
"Depends. Been a good girl?"
She pretended to consider; he laughed.
The atmosphere became more serious as he ran a finger down her cheek. "I'm here," she promised. "A few more bullet-holes in me, but I'm fine. We both are."
She knew his fears, understood how he had felt when he had been told the false news of her death, shared his terror that the man who had orchestrated the attempt on her life might one day find out she was still alive and come to finish the job. It all hung on Jethro's performance outside these four walls, and Ducky had assured them both he was doing a good job.
He pressed his lips to hers, softly at first and then more passionately. She returned the kiss in kind, and for a few minutes the world could have ended and neither of them would have noticed.
She reluctantly pulled away, rolling out of the warm sheets and heading towards the bathroom. "I need to get dressed," she told him.
"Looks fine from here," he noted, smirking at the NIS T-shirt and admiring the view it offered him of her legs.
"I'll freeze," she replied.
"Who says we have to get up?" he called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom. He gave her two seconds before she noticed –
"Jethro?" she called back to him. "Why is Bert sitting on the toilet seat? And who gave him the Santa hat?"