Author's Note: I gotta say, this was the hardest chapter to write, Gibbs being a functional mute and all and the last Chapter of this story being all about Scrooge jumping around and proclaiming his love of mankind from the rooftops of old London, but I think I managed to capture the essence of the ending while remaining a little true to Gibbs. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! This chapter concludes our story and I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had in writing it.

Chapter 6

Gibbs jolted awake in complete blackness and a cold so frigid his toes and fingers ached with it. He was lying on his back on something soft and he sat bolt upright, disoriented at first by the total darkness enveloping him and wondering if this was perhaps his hell: an eternal land of blackness. But as Gibbs stood up and moved forward carefully in the dark, he crashed bodily into something hard and heavy, but all too familiar. It was the wood burning stove in the center of his basement and Gibbs bent over double to wrap his arms around the cold metal. The fire had long ago gone out, but Gibbs could have cared less.

"Oh God, I have never been happier to see you, ya old hunk of junk."

He fumbled with matches in the dark, and made quick work of the fire to throw some light. The basement looked as old and forlorn as ever and Gibbs moved over to one far wall and to an old window that had been boarded up long ago to keep light out. Wrenching the heavy wooden board away with his fingers, early morning light streamed in, dust moats dancing in the familiar blue light of dawn and Gibbs blinked out into it.

"I don't know if you can hear me Leon," he began, surprising himself with his own voice in the quiet basement, "or if anything last night really happened, but your spirits reminded me of some things I had forgotten. I know the kind of man I let myself turn into after Shannon and Kelly died and I swear I'm not going to waste this. Rule # 5, right? Don't waste good. That's what Shannon always told me anyways and I'll live by those rules again Leon, you can bet your ass!"

Gibbs felt lighter than air as he stepped away from the window and didn't know what to do with himself at first. There was so much he needed to fix, so much to atone for, and knew that there was one thing he absolutely had to do first, if it wasn't already too late to do so. He had no idea how long the spirits had taken in showing him the past, present and future and there was a chance that he might not be able to make one very important thing right. Rifling through the clothes he had down in the basement, Gibbs chose his most respectable suit and took the basement stairs two at a time.

His foyer was filled with the same bright light of morning, but Gibbs realized with a sudden shock that he had nothing to check the date or time with. He had no computer at home. His old tube TV was busted and he hadn't had time to get it fixed and his cell phone was lying dead on the table just inside the front door. He plugged it into its charger but it was an older model phone that wouldn't let him turn it on until it reached a certain charge. Not caring about the cold, he threw his door open wide and stepped outside onto his porch.

The street before him was covered in a thick layer of freshly fallen snow and Gibbs found himself admiring it as he took in a huge breath of fresh, cold air and, rather than naming the dusting of white a nuisance (a sure sign at least something had changed inside of him) he enjoyed the sight of it. His thoughts drifted to Kelly and the snowmen they used to build together in this very yard and Gibbs felt his face stretch into a smile.

"Hey, kid!" He called out as a young boy ran past his house on the sidewalk pulling a sled in the snow behind him. The boy was packed into a snow suit so tightly his arms couldn't rest against his sides properly and the whole effect reminded Gibbs of an old Christmas movie he used to watch with his family. The child stopped dead in his tracks and stared up at Gibbs with fear in his eyes.

"What's today?" Gibbs called.

"Huh?" The boy asked, confused.

"They day, son! What's today?"

"It's Christmas, Mr. Gibbs," the boy replied, surprising Gibbs that he knew his name. He must be more infamous than he thought. Time enough to change that though.

"Thanks, kid!" Gibbs called back, giving the boy a smile and a wave which seemed to throw him through a loop, "and Merry Christmas!" Gibbs closed the door on the astonished boy and chuckled to himself. He hadn't missed it, Christmas. And if today was Christmas day, then that meant he might still have time to correct one important thing.

Throwing boots and a coat on, Gibbs made his way through the snow and into his garage. Opening the door he eyed his old car quizzically and wondered if it was even going to start seeing has how he hadn't used it in months. Since hiring Fernando he'd needed the car less and less and now it was going to ruin all of his plans. A quick turn of the key confirmed his fears and he sat behind the wheel wondering how he was going to get into NCIS. He could call Fernando, but that would mean pulling the poor guy away from his family on Christmas morning... unless Gibbs made it well worth his while. Plan forming in his head, he headed back into the house and turned his cell back on. The little flip phone showed no calls missed and no messages so he dialed a familiar number and worried for a moment that Fernando wouldn't pick up. Thankfully on the last ring a gruff voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Fernando," He started off sternly. "Gibbs. I need you to come and take me into the office right now. It's an emergency."

"But it's Christmas, Director Gibbs," the man started to argue with an incredulous edge to his voice, but Gibbs had a plan to stick to.

"Mr. Riviera, if you are not in front of my house in 10 minutes, you're fired and you can be bet I will make sure you never work in this town again. Got it?" Gibbs asked, wondering if his harshness was a good idea but having no time to change his mind as Fernando offered a hasty "be right there, sir" and hung up the phone before Gibbs could say anything else. He readied what he needed to complete his first mission and 10 minutes later Fernando sat idling out on the curb in front of Gibbs's house. He locked his front door behind him, smiled at his door knocker, then schooled his mouth back down into a frown before stalking out to the waiting car.

"Take me to NICS and hurry," Gibbs barked and Fernando took off for headquarters, getting them there in record time. When he rounded the car to let Gibbs out after they had arrived, Gibbs pulled the man up on to the sidewalk with him waving an envelope.

"This is for you," he said, handing the man the blank white package and watching his driver's face darken slightly. "I'll no longer be requiring your services."

Fernando's eyes went wide with shock, then fear but Gibbs stood there until he started opening the envelope. When he pulled out the check, his face went white.

"I want you to come see me Monday morning and we'll discuss getting you on the NCIS payroll. I need a good driver around here to help visiting dignitaries get around the city. Will you come see me?" Gibbs asked the trembling man before him whose eyes were going shiny with moisture.

"Director Gibbs, I..." the man started, looking back and forth between Gibbs and the check he had clutched in his hands, unsure of what to say.

"Go back to your family, Fernando, and thank you for driving me this morning. A cab would have taken too long to get me here." And with a quick shake of the astonished man's hand Gibbs turned and walked into NCIS through his private entrance and made his way toward MTAC.

There was a skeleton crew on duty for Christmas, mostly people who didn't celebrate the holiday but Gibbs wished them all good mornings as he passed, earning wide eyed stares and mumbled greetings back as he made his way. When he reached the elevated platform before MTAC he hardened his face once again.

The interior of the room was as dark as it always was and Gibbs spied Colonel Lindstrom sitting in the front row of chairs with a laptop perched in her lap, too engrossed in what she was doing to hear Gibbs approach. She was Skypeing with her family and two excited kids were proudly showing off their gifts on the tiny screen.

"What the hell are you doing, solider?" Gibbs asked sternly from behind her, barely able to check his emotion or make his voice sound angry. Lindstrom snapped the laptop shut in a flash and stood to attention immediately, computer accidently clattering to the floor beside her in her haste. Gibbs bent down to retrieve the laptop from the floor and came up with the deepest glower he could manage.

"This is not what I had in mind when I told you to stay here last night, Lindstrom," Gibbs growled and the Colonel before him reddened but didn't retort.

"I thought you weren't going to be in today, Sir. What are you doing here?" She asked with barely checked anger shaking her words.

"I'm the director of NCIS, Colonel. I work here." Gibbs turned toward the live satellite feeds coming in on the big screen before him. "Where are our boys, how far did they get last night?"

When Lindstrom didn't answer, Gibbs turned around. "Well?"

"I didn't send them out sir." She said, ducking her head and looking at the floor.

"Excuse me!?"

"Director Gibbs, it's Christmas!" She implored, looking up at him with desperation behind her eyes, but defiance as well, like she knew the old version of Gibbs was going to fire her right on the spot for giving the men and women under her command the Christmas Eve they deserved. Only she wasn't dealing with the Gibbs of old, and new Gibbs stepped forward to clap a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Thank you," he said genuinely and Lindstrom made to argue as if she hadn't yet processed what it was he had just said to her.

"I don't care what you say, those men... Wait, what?" She sputtered to a stop, eying the hand on her shoulder which he promptly removed.

"Thank you Colonel. I got over here as soon as I could thinking I would be too late. Pull them back to the boarder and then get your ass out of here and back to your family." He turned to leave, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Sir?" She asked questioningly, searching his face as if expecting it all to be some big joke.

"I'm serious Lindstrom. Have them stay put at the border and we can meet after Christmas to decide what our next step should be, then go home. It looks like you've got some pretty excited kids waiting for you." Realizing he still had her laptop in his hands, he handed the computer back to the flabbergasted Colonel. She took it from him, but then did something Gibbs was not expecting. The woman threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Gibbs hadn't been hugged in a long time, probably since before Shannon and Kelly had been killed, and he awkwardly patted Lindstrom's back before she pulled away.

"Merry Christmas," he said a little brokenly and the Colonel's face broke out into a wide smile.

"Merry Christmas Director Gibbs," she replied, and turned away to get to work.

"That goes for all of you," he said to the various techs still at work. "If you didn't volunteer to be here today, finish up and then get the heck out. It's Christmas," and he left to a rousing chorus of thank you's.

Gibbs called a cab on his way out of NCIS but not before visiting the building manager's office to leave him a note about seeing him on Monday to arrange to have the power and heat restored to his office. He hadn't even bothered going in there, knowing how uncomfortable it would be and by the time he finished wishing the security guard on duty a Merry Christmas, his cab was waiting for him.

Gibbs watched the DC streets flash by as the taxi made its way across town and to the little apartment above the bakery he planned on visiting next, and Gibbs pressed his nose against the glass without even realizing he'd done so to watch the Christmas festiveness go by. At one point he even asked the driver to pull over so he could marvel at the giant Christmas tree erected on the White House lawn before waiving the driver on. He'd spent so much of his life in a hurry, trying to outrun the past, that he'd never taken the time to truly look at the lighted city around him. And it really was a sight to see. The crowds that darted to and fro weren't irksome at all. They were just people, excited for the day and for the season and Gibbs should have been one of them all along. He'd wasted so many years but not anymore! He would change, he HAD to change if he was going to affect the awful things he saw in his future. And when he folded himself out of the cab and onto the sidewalk outside of the little Polish bakery that was closed up for Christmas but no less festive with lighted window front and frosted cookies in its windows, Gibbs was smiling. He asked the driver if he would mind waiting for a bit with the promise of a handsome tip, then made his way to the stoop in front of Tony DiNozzo's home.

Gibbs waited on the street for a few minutes after pressing the bell, receiving no response to his ring, and was just about to give up when finally he heard a crash and a bang and a very disheveled looking Tony DiNozzo opened the street level door.

"Boss," he croaked, peering out into the light as if he'd just woken up. "What's going on? Everything alright?" Gibbs had forgotten how early it was but it was too late to turn back now.

"No, everything's not alright. You weren't in the office this morning like we discussed," Gibbs said with as much fake anger as he could muster, which wasn't much.

"But Director, sir," Tony stammered, straightening his robe and tightening it around himself, "you gave me the day off, remember? And why didn't you just call me?"

"I tried to, DiNozzo!" Gibbs fumed. "Rule #3, remember?"

"Rule # 3? Boss, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, DiNozzo. Rule # 3, never be unreachable!"

"Gibbs, I have no idea what you're talking about." Tony was eying him like he was crazy, and maybe he was.

"I can see that," it was all he could do not to laugh at the ridiculous look his assistant was giving him. "Look DiNozzo, I don't think this is going to work out anymore." Gibbs finished, gesturing between them with a hand.

"Oh no you don't!" a voice interrupted their exchange from behind Tony and Gibbs peered around his assistant and up the stairs just in time to see Tony's wife bang open the apartment door and come bounding down to the first floor, her eyes flashing with anger. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up at our home on Christmas day to fire my husband," she yelled and Tony shot a hand out to stop her from bowling Gibbs over.

"Ziva, please." He pleaded but she ignored him.

"How dare you!" Tony wrapped an arm around her waist as she tried to lurch forward as if to smack Gibbs and he almost lost his cool then and there to break out into a smile.

"Mrs. DiNozzo, I haven't come to fire your husband," he said quickly and the woman struggling in Tony's arms froze instantly.

"What?" She asked, confused at the sudden turn of events. "What did you just say?"

"I said, I'm not here to fire Tony. I'm here to promote him."

"What?" It was Tony who asked that time.

"Look DiNozzo, you're too qualified to be sitting behind a desk. You belong out in the field. So if you're interested, I have a major case response team I was thinking of putting together but I'd need someone I trust to run it. It comes with a pay increase and, if you would be okay with it, some help from me personally for you and your family. I heard your son is sick and I have a few acquaintances who are doctors who might be able to help you guys out." The two people standing just inside the door were blinking at him with mouths agape.

"Whadda say, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, putting out a hand which Tony took after a confused beat, still looking stunned.

"Um, yeah boss!" He replied as he recovered a little and smiled wide. "Absolutely, yes! And would you come inside for a few minutes? My kids would love to meet you!" Tony suggested and Gibbs was suddenly unsure.

"They don't bite, I promise," Ziva put in and Gibbs allowed himself to be pulled inside the door by Tony's wife who seemed to be unsure of what to say to him still, but wrapped her arm around his own anyway and walked him up the stairs as if to keep him from changing his mind. Tony went to talk to the cab driver and Gibbs ascended the stairs with Ziva. When they entered the apartment Tony's three sleepy children looked his way.

"Kids, this is the director of NCIS and daddy's boss. He's come to wish you a Merry Christmas," Ziva announced and Peter and Emily's eyes went wide but Tiny Tim, tucked into his wheelchair with a Christmas quilt spread over his legs, grinned up at Gibbs.

"Hi guys," he offered a little shyly, having not addressed kids in over 20 years. "Merry Christmas." But blank stares only followed.

"Well, come on guys," Tony admonished his kids as he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. "What do you say?"

"Merry Christmas," the kids said in union and Tiny Tim began wheeling his chair over to where Gibbs stood awkwardly just inside the door. He held a little hand out and Gibbs took it, surprised by the strength in the grip, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Nice to meet you, Master Timothy," and everyone laughed a little nervously.

"That's what my Papa calls me," the boy replied and waived his father over. Tony leaned in when the boy indicated he had a secret to tell and listened intently. When he straightened up, it was with a grin.

"It's okay with me buddy, and I think it's a great idea." Gibbs wrinkled his brow in confusion and Tony walked over to retrieve one of the gifts under the tree. Everyone else in the apartment watched the proceedings in silence, no one really sure what to make of their strange visitor or Tim's plan for him. Tony brought over a brightly wrapped package and handed it over to Gibbs who handled the package carefully, like it would crumble to dust in his hands if he wasn't careful.

"For me?" He asked surprised, eyeing the label and seeing that it was supposed to be a gift from Tim to his father. He looked over at the boy quizzically. "But this is for your dad."

"Yeah," the little boy replied thoughtfully, as precocious an answer as Gibbs had ever heard, "but he liked my idea to give it to you instead. I think you need it more than he does."

Opening the festive wrapping paper with one rip, Gibbs held in his hands a bright red scarf embroidered with white snowflakes at either end. It was well made and warm and he had to stop and clear his throat before thanking the boy.

"This is great," he said, wrapping the scarf around his neck to the approval of all in the small apartment. "I'm gonna wear it to the Christmas party I'm heading to next. Everyone is going to be asking me where I got it." The little boy in the chair before him held open his arms and with a glance towards Tony and his wife who were both nodding their approval, Gibbs knelt down and received a gift that was better than any scarf. Tim gave the tightest hug his weak arms could managed and whispered a "Merry Christmas" into Gibbs' ear quietly, and just for him.

"Merry Christmas, Tiny Tim," Gibbs replied back, just as quietly, before straightening and Tim smiled before wheeling himself off back towards the living room. Gibbs stood standing still for a moment, running thumb and forefinger over the fabric of the scarf he'd just been given. The first real present he'd received in years.

"Thanks, Director. For stopping by and for the promotion. I can't tell you what it means to me and my family," Tony said, breaking through Gibbs's silence.

"And I meant what I said about your son," Gibbs answered after pulling himself back together and nodding in the small boy's direction. "We'll sit down first thing Monday and go over the details, okay?"

"I don't suppose we could convince you to stay for dinner?" Ziva asked, blushing a little when Gibbs smiled at her. He was getting kind of good at the whole 'showing emotion' thing.

"Thank you for the offer, but I actually have somewhere to be. My nephew is throwing a party and I want to make an appearance."

"Palmer's party? You're going to go?" Tony asked excitedly, stepping forward to open the door so Gibbs could leave.

"Yeah. That boy looks just like his mother and it's high time I start treating him like the family he is."

"I think that's a fantastic idea, boss," Tony replied. "He's a really nice guy and his wife is going to have that baby any time now. They'll be so happy to have you."

"Merry Christmas, Tony." Gibbs offered, shaking hands with his soon to be ex-assistant and grabbing Ziva's as well so place a kiss on her knuckles. "You have a beautiful wife, Tony," and he left a blushing Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo on the landing.

Gibbs had his cabbie drop him off in front of his nephew's house after a quick stop at an open food mart to pick out the best wine they had and something for the snack table. He knew he was early but he had been married once and knew the fastest way into a wife's heart and good graces was to show up early and ready to help and with Palmer's wife about to have a baby, he hoped an extra pair of hands would be welcomed, even if they were many years late and quite possibly unwanted. Gibbs paid his taxi driver an exorbitant tip, received many blessings from the thankful man behind the wheel, and made his way slowly up the front walk of Palmer's house. The kid had done pretty well for himself over the years, with no help whatsoever from his dreadful uncle, and Gibbs spent a long while staring at the front bell wondering if he should be doing this. But Palmer had shown up at his office every year for the past 10 years with the invite to join him and Breena for Christmas so there was no reason to loiter out on the stoop.

Steeling himself for the worst, Gibbs hit the bell and waited.

It took a moment or two but eventually Palmer's head appeared in the window beside the door and Gibbs watched his nephew's eyes widen in shock. He was getting used to seeing that look on people's faces and imagined that he would continue seeing it as he made the changes in his life and at NCIS that he was already planning. Palmer opened the door wide and several emotions flashed across his face all at once before settling on bewilderment.

"Uncle Gibbs, to what do we owe the honor?" Gibbs held out the wine and the food he'd brought and Palmer took them, still starting at his Uncle like he didn't quite know what to make of him.

"I was just wondering if the offer to spend Christmas with you and Breena still stood. You know, if you don't mind a crabby old guy who's got a lot to make up for." Palmer continued to stare then seemed to recover himself slightly.

"Uncle Jethro, you will forever and always be welcome here. Now get in here out of the cold and come and meet my wife. She's gonna be ecstatic!"

"She's gotta be about ready to have that baby, huh?" Gibbs commented as his nephew stepped aside to let him in and Palmer laughed.

"Oh, you have no idea Uncle Jethro. I wonder if the shock of seeing you here will send her into early labor."

"Should I go? I don't want to upset her," Gibbs spoke genuinely, not wanting to be the one to ruin the party by sending the hostess into premature labor but Palmer shook his head firmly.

"No way! Are you kidding?! She's going to be so happy that you're here. She is the one, after all, who makes sure every single year that I don't forget to stop by your office and make the offer. What made you change your mind, by the way?"

Gibbs chuckled. "That's a long story. I'll tell you some of it while we get ready for your guests. There's just one thing, though," he added, going a little serious.

Palmer leaned in, "What's that Uncle Jethro?"

"I don't do charades." He joked with a smile and Palmer laughed as he closed the door behind them.

And thus our story ends on Christmas day and as happy and wondrous a Christmas Day as the old city had ever seen for Gibbs was true to his word. He promoted Tony to lead of a special NCIS major case response team, helped the DiNozzo's get the proper care for Tiny Tim who recovered as well as anyone could have expected, though he would always require the use of his crutch.

As for Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he became the most respected and beloved NCIS Director in the history of the agency. He cared for the people under his command with as much love as own family had shown him when they had been alive and carried Christmas in his heart all the long years of his life proclaiming, as Tiny Tim once had:

"God bless us, every one."

Merry Christmas

Fin

A/N: This is dedicated to all the men and woman of the armed forces who will get no reprieve this Christmas Day like the soldiers in my little story. I am forever humbled by the sacrifices these men and woman make so that I may be free and I commend and love them all.

A very Merry Christmas to everyone! And if you don't celebrate or are not a Christian, I wish you a Merry December! :)

Please take a moment to leave me your thoughts! It takes mere moments and I can't tell you enough how much they mean to us authors who only get better when we hear from you about what works and what doesn't in a fic. So please (it is Christmas after all) leave a review before you leave.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!