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2020-11-05
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Christmas Goose

Summary:

Gibbs joins the team at Ducky's for a holiday dinner. Team-centric holiday fic--Season 2 oriented.

Work Text:

Gibbs looked at the snow falling and couldn’t stop the small smile that ghosted across his face.  Last year, he’d celebrated with Tony, Ducky, and Abby alone, as they usually did. Sometimes it was it the office when they’d pulled office duty, and other times they spent the holiday together, either at his place or Ducky’s.

 

This year was different; this year they had McGee, who was the newest addition to the team. His parents and sister had taken a cruise for the holiday but the youngest agent on the team hadn’t been able to get off. And Kate was here as well, her family scattered. Apparently her mother was visiting one of her brothers and her local family was busy until evening.

 

Ducky insisted on making all the preparations; Gibbs had the impression that it helped Victoria feel young again. The increasingly frail woman never smiled so brightly as she did during the holidays, though Gibbs knew it probably had at least as much to do with her constant sherry as it did the atmosphere.

 

As he walked up the steps to the house, he catalogued the cars in the driveway. Everyone was here now; he’d expected that.  He hadn’t wanted to let the holiday pass without seeing Colonel Ryan. His former CO was very aware today and they’d talked for a while before Gibbs had to leave. It had been a nice visit, very unlike the early days of the Colonel’s hospitalization, when he was seeing ghosts of the past around every corner.

 

Gibbs shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He rang the doorbell, pulling in a breath. He was glad the team was together; they’d run into some hairy stuff in the last year. Kate and Ducky being held hostage, and just a couple of  weeks ago Tony going undercover with Jeffrey White. Their jobs were serious, but it seemed like his team had taken a lot of body blows in the last year.

 

“Matthew! How lovely to see you!” Victoria threw open the door and pulled him inside. “There’s an Italian here, do you know. And a hussy,” she whispered, leaning in close. “And a woman with all sorts of longshoreman tattoos. And another man, plump as a Christmas goose.” She threw her head back and laughed and the alcohol fumes washed over Gibbs.

 

He wondered where her dogs were, but then spied a plump little body running in the back yard. Ducky must have put the dogs outside so that he could get some peace. The ceilings in the house were high, allowing for the sounds of laughter to resonate through the room. Gibbs tightened his hand on the small bag he carried. He wasn’t the kind of guy who gave out presents, but Ducky had asked him specifically to do it this year, and Ducky was the closest thing to family that Gibbs had.

 

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Mallard,” he said, kissing her cheek and dodging when she playfully turned her mouth to his. She was a terrible flirt and he wouldn’t encourage that.

 

Gibbs followed Ducky’s mother into the formal dining room, dropping his bag of presents off at the Christmas tree that dominated the living room, dressed in elegant white lights. Trust Duck to go with class. Always.

 

“Gibbs!” Abby jumped up and ran to him, giving him a huge hug. “Merry Christmas! Isn’t this great! The whole team together for the first time in like, forever! Ducky’s in the kitchen right now. He has the coffee on. We were waiting for you.” She gave him a reproachful look, but he shrugged. They were used to him being mysterious.

 

Gibbs kissed Abby on the cheek, pulling a pigtail and eyeing her Mrs. Claus getup, a red dress trimmed in white that looked like it belonged in the sixties. “Merry Christmas, Abbs.” He pulled away, watching Kate, Tony, and McGee, aware that for today he wasn’t boss or team leader, he was just one of the group. Still, the instinct to lead rose up in him and he knew he couldn’t push it away just yet.

 

Feeling a little awkward, though knowing he had to do the right thing, Gibbs approached Kate, squeezing her shoulder, the fabric of her basic black dress soft under his hand. He wasn’t as comfortable with her and McGee yet; they hadn’t broken through to his inner circle.

 

“Merry Christmas, Kate,” he said, surprised when Kate stood up and gave him a warm, yet brief, hug. It was a little awkward, but Gibbs knew it was sincere and he patted her back gently as she started to pull away.

 

“Merry Christmas, Gibbs,” she said with a small smile and Abby slipped in to the chair beside her. Those two had become close friends, unlikely sisters. It was nice to see. Abby didn’t warm to many women; she hadn’t with Backadder at all and Viv had been on the team over a year, as long as Kate had.

 

McGee was standing up, dressed the most formally in a suit that looked brand new and didn’t quite fit right. As Gibbs approached, he shifted and Gibbs had the impression that he was trying to fade into the background. He extended his hand, gripping McGee’s firmly in his and squeezing it.

 

“Merry Christmas, McGee.” Gibbs paused a second. “Tim,” he added, knowing he rarely used the young man’s first name. Tim’s eyes softened at that and his mouth opened in a nervous little gasp.

 

“M-merry Christmas, Boss.”

 

“Not boss today, Mc—Tim. Just Gibbs is fine.”

 

“Okay, Gibbs.” McGee gulped down a sip of wine, looking warily at Victoria, who sat primly at the head of the table, eyeing Tony speculatively, Tim curiously, and then looking at the younger women, thinly disguised longing on her face. Gibbs had to look away; it was a moment in the older woman’s life he knew she wouldn’t want observed.

 

Tony stood, coming around the table, hand extended as well. A glass of red wine was in his other hand, his expression was relaxed and some of the shadows he hadn’t quite banished after the White case had faded for today. They’d be back, Gibbs knew, but for now, whether the wine or the fact that Tony wasn’t alone had chased them away.

 

“Hey, Gibbs,” Tony said, his voice lighter than his expression.

 

Gibbs looked down at the hand, fully intending to shake it, but then the memory of Tony’s head bowed in that car, the fear that Jeffrey White had killed him, rose up in Gibbs and he pulled the other man into a hug. “Merry Christmas, Tony.”

 

Tony let out a startled gasp, stiffening. “Merry Christmas, Gibbs,” he said finally. Gibbs patted him on the back, much as he’d patted Kate, and pulled away, a little awkward at this level of affection he was showing.

 

“Ah, Jethro! You made it! The coffee is on.”

 

“Duck!” Gibbs shook Ducky’s hand, giving him his warmest smile, and allowed his friend to pull him closer, into a hug. This was gonna be a huggy day, but he could deal with it for one day out of the year. Gibbs tried to ignore the fact that he’d initiated the hugs.

 

“You need any help in there, Duck?” Gibbs asked, gesturing toward the kitchen.

 

“Everything is well in hand,” Ducky assured, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table to his mother. Gibbs moved smoothly around so that he was sitting at Ducky’s right and he tried not to chuckle as Tony and McGee scrambled for the middle chair, Tony winning it with a smug smile. He slipped into it, leaving McGee the choice of the seat between Tony and Victoria or Abby and Victoria. There was no place else to go.

 

“Tony,” McGee started, a wheedling tone in his voice, but it was clear Tony wasn’t bending. “She treats you like the Pillsbury Doughboy and me like a stripper. Take one for the team, McChristmas Goose.”

 

Gibbs was about to ask what that meant when McGee chuckled and Gibbs turned to see Victoria gently poking Tim in the stomach, muttering something about a Christmas goose.

 

“Mother!” Ducky chided gently, though the affection cut through the exasperation in that word. Gibbs hoped Ducky knew how lucky he was to have his mother around, as eccentric as she was.

 

Now that the seating arrangements had sorted themselves out, Gibbs stood, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee. He’d have wine with everyone else when they ate, but for now, coffee would do him just fine.

 

The last place was set and Ducky glanced at his watch, clearing his throat. Gibbs cocked his head at Ducky as he returned to the table, and Ducky sighed, pressing his lips together.

 

“I knew traffic would be bad with this snow, but I’d hoped…even later than you…”

 

Gibbs hadn’t realized Ducky had invited Palmer to share Christmas with them. Palmer was so much younger than the team, a med student, and he wasn’t as much as part of them as even McGee was.

 

“He was driving back from Richmond, wasn’t he?” Abby asked. “Midnight mass with his mom and then breakfast with his family?”

 

“That’s right,” Kate put in, and Gibbs remembered a conversation about that echoing in the hallways of NCIS earlier this week.

 

“And then Christmas dinner with us, if he gets her before the ham is done,” Ducky said. He was drowned out when the doorbell rang.

 

McGee hopped up, almost in relief. “I’ll get it, Ducky!” he called out as he fled.

 

“Wonder if he knows this is a rite of passage,” Tony muttered in Gibbs’ ear. “Hazing Mrs. Mallard style.”

 

“Tony,” Gibbs warned, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

 

“What, Boss?” Tony asked, green eyes wide, the picture of innocence. Gibbs wanted to tell Tony to stop it, but he couldn’t resist the relaxed way the other man was, the way they all were. Kate’s body language was less constrained, Abby wasn’t as frenetic as she sometimes got, and while they had to work on McGee’s confidence, Gibbs had the sense he was coming out of his shell too.

 

“You know what,” Gibbs growled good-naturedly. The stresses of work were fading for now, and as Palmer walked in, brushing snow off his overcoat, Gibbs raised his mug of coffee in greeting. “Merry Christmas, Palmer. Good of ya to join us.”

 

“Thanks, Special Agent Gibbs. Looks like the gang is all here.”

 

“Our little dysfunctional family,” Tony added.

 

And as Gibbs looked around the room, he couldn’t help smiling and nodding in agreement. They bickered like brothers and sisters sometimes, but in their own way, they were family. And he wasn’t interested in celebrating Christmas with anyone else.

 

“Thanks, Duck,” Gibbs said in an undertone, after Palmer had greeted everyone and taken his place near a fawning Mrs. Mallard, his cheeks pink from her attentions.

 

“My pleasure.”

 

And Gibbs knew it really was. “Merry Christmas, Duck.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Jethro.”