12 slaps for Christmas - Chapter 5 - Consequences
Title: 12 slaps for Christmas
Author: SA3466996
Rating: PG-13, T
Category: Humour, general.
Genre: Gen.
Pairing: None.
Character: Gibbs, DiNozzo, Abby, Team. (Exaggerated characters, OOC)
Summary: Abby gets festive, the team back her up... Gibbs gets wound up. Poor Tony. A song, a slap, and a slice of silliness. Set in Season 5 around Christmas.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: NCIS characters belong to Bellisario, CBS and Paramount. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 5 - Consequences
All heads turned to look at Gibbs. All heads except Tony’s. Tony stared straight ahead.
“Tell me, DiNozzo. Whaddya think I should give myself? What should I get for Christmas?”
Tony thought for a moment. He could hardly tell him that what he thought he ought to get was an occasional attitude adjustment.
“Dunno, Boss,” Tony replied, turning to look at Gibbs. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether telling you might make a difference to how hard you’re gonna slap me at the end of all of this,” he said nervously.
Gibbs sighed. “You’re wrong, DiNozzo. It will make a difference.”
Tony waited. He watched as Gibbs looked him up and down... he watched as Gibbs looked at each of them in turn... and he listened as the next words Gibbs spoke pierced his core.
“On the twelfth day of Christmas the boss man gave to me... a fine team of special agents, called DiNozzo... David... and... McGee.”
Ziva looked astounded. McGee blushed and looked away and Tony smiled uncontrollably.
“He also gave to me...” Gibbs steely blue eyes urged them all to continue.
“Eleven curt remarks... ten minutes to trace a hacker...” Tony, Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky and Palmer chorused.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Gibbs rise from his chair and start to walk around his desk towards him. Oh crap! The uncontrollable smile he’d worn ten seconds ago slipped from his face to be replaced with an apprehensive grimace. Knowing what was coming next and having no way of getting out of it was a killer.
“Nine mass spectrometers... eight SIG-Sauers...” they chorused.
Tony refrained from singing, sensing all eyes on him. Gibbs was slowly advancing towards him, one step with each line. He swallowed hard.
“Seven upset stomachs... six dead bodies...”
Gibbs had stopped. All eyes turned to Gibbs.
“Five... d-e-ath... stares.”
Tony felt the sting as his own adrenalin-spiked green eyes were injected with a shot of Gibbs’s own special brand of blue.
“Four copies of Deep Six...” Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky and Palmer chorused.
He would be dead in a minute. He felt the fear rising inside him.
“Three Caf-Pows...”
Gibbs was close now.
“Two cups of coffee...”
Gibbs stopped dead.
“Ya really think you’d get away with this, DiNozzo?”
Tony stared straight ahead. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. It was time to face the ‘consequences’. He didn’t want to admit it, but as he felt the fear tighten a notch inside him, he realised that all the slaps the others had given him, all the slaps he’d given himself... they’d been for the team’s amusement; Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky, Palmer... himself even. But this one, the one he was about to receive from the man who was stood nose to nose in front of him now. Well this one - this was not for his amusement. This was for his actions; this was his ‘consequence’.
Resigned and apologetic he dropped his gaze down and to the left and swallowed hard.
“Tony.”
His gaze shot immediately back to face his mentor... or should that be tormentor. But the eyes that looked back were surprisingly calm and reassuring. Only then, did he realise that no one had sung the last line.
Gibbs smiled, his hand reaching for the back of Tony’s head, “...and an ‘Atta boy’ for acting just like Tony.”
The genuine warmth and affection he felt from that hand gently smoothing his ruffled hair was worth more than anything he could ever possibly own. It was simply priceless.
“Merry Christmas, Boss!” he called out as Gibbs turned and walked back towards his desk.
“Back to work, DiNozzo,” Gibbs shot gruffly over his shoulder, “unless you want me to do that last section again... with the original ending.”
“Work... boss... back to,” Tony spluttered, a brief look of panic spreading across his face.
Ziva snorted. Abby giggled. McGee grinned. Ducky shook his head and Palmer hid.
Tony went back to his desk and sat down, the look of panic having morphed into a huge grin. He had a new memory now.
---------
After a few minutes, Gibbs looked around the squad room at the remaining cast. Ducky and Abby, having dished out their gifts, had gone back to their ‘desks’ and Palmer... well he had no idea where Palmer had got to. All his agents were deep in concentrated thought.
McGee’s face inked a puzzled ‘how do I write this?’ look. Tony sported a determined ‘get it done and it better have everything covered’ look, and Ziva spiked a look that would assassinate anyone who dared to break her concentration.
Gibbs smiled. He had to hand it to DiNozzo. When Abby had suggested that little pantomime earlier, he thought he might have had to break one of his golden rules. One he’d never told them, nor ever would. Tony had stepped in, put himself in the frame and saved Abby from the fate he generally reserved for his field agents.
It had been a good result.
They’d let off some of that pent up frustration; got it out of their systems and were now back to working as smart and as hard as they always did.
He shook his head and smiled. Only DiNozzo! That man really did need a slap.
A slap on the back.
---------
He was almost done when something stopped him. It came from nowhere.
Someone was watching him.
His eyes shifted right and his head followed to catch Gibbs observing him from behind his monitor. He saw the corners of Gibbs mouth turn upwards in a brief smile.
Tony looked at Gibbs for a moment, pausing to read the blue eyes, and then mirrored his Boss’s smile. He nodded as he registered the ‘You’ve got five, DiNozzo’ look that had been in response to Tony’s own ‘It’ll be on your desk in ten, Boss’ look, and then turned back to his monitor.
He loved this place. He loved working here. He loved everything about it. He loved the buzz of finally nailing a suspect in interrogation; the thrill of making a connection; the adrenaline rush as he chased and caught a suspect; the early morning starts; the late finishes; the all nighters; the ‘hits’ from Abby’s gizmos in the lab... the ‘hits’ from his Boss; his Boss... the team... the people... his desk...
The people...
Gibbs... McGee... Ziva... Abby... Ducky... Jenny... Palmer...
Kate...
And Paula...
He thought for a moment.
It had taken him long enough to realise it, but this was his home. He was at home, and he never wanted to leave.
The End
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SA346’s Rules
Rule #1 - Gibbs never slaps DiNozzo more than once in a single story.
A/N: 12! Yes there were 12 slaps. Not counting the pummelling, thumps, nudges or pokes. Hmm... attitude adjustment... I wonder where that came from?
There was an alternative ending to this. But I went with this one in the main fic. I wonder what the alternative could have been?
Resigned and apologetic SA3 dropped his gaze down and to the left and swallowed hard.
“SA3, look at me.”
His gaze shot immediately back to face his mentor... or was that tormentor... definitely tormentor. The Boss’s eyes pinned him fast. There was no way to get out of this. Only then did he realise that McColleague and the rest of the team were not singing. He registered the brief, wicked flash in his Boss’s eyes.
“...and a slap for acting not unlike SA3.”
Smack.
“Oumph!”
The stinging sensation at the back of his head began to dissipate and SA3 watched as his Boss looked him over. A tiny smile appeared on the Boss’s face and then vanished as he turned to walk back to his desk.
SA3 smoothed the hair at the back of his head and after a brief hesitation spoke. “Merry Christmas to you too, Boss!” he grinned.
He could have sworn he saw a brief reappearance of that tiny smile on his Boss’s face.
“Back to work SA3!”