Slightly tagged to episode 10x07 "Shell Shock: Part 2," in which the team mentioned that they would be having Thanksgiving dinner together at Gibbs's house. We didn't get to actually see that, so I decided to write my own take on it. This story is a tad bit silly, especially in later chapters.
(For my own reference: 47th fanfiction, 30th story for NCIS.)
"Look at this, I'm getting dishpan hands," Tony grouses, as he scrubs another plate clean and hands it off to Abby. He holds his hands out in front of him for a moment; his palms are wet and puckered, dripping soapy water into Gibbs's kitchen sink, where dishes from the team's Thanksgiving dinner are soaking. "You'd think if the boss didn't have a dishwasher, he'd at least have a pair of those cleaning gloves."
Further down the counter, Ziva suppresses a laugh at the image of Gibbs wearing bright yellow dish-washing gloves up to his elbows. She had been surprised too, when she first noticed that there was no dishwasher in Gibbs's kitchen, but honestly, what did she expect? "Perhaps he uses the gloves we wear at crime scenes," she suggests, smiling, as she dries off a serving bowl.
"Yeah, I can see him doing that," Abby puts in. She's standing between Tony and Ziva, rinsing off the dishes that Tony hands her and passing them down to Ziva, who wipes each one with a dishtowel and sets it in the drying rack on the counter. "Anyway, quit complaining," Abby scolds, nudging Tony with her shoulder. "If Gibbs is nice enough to have Thanksgiving dinner at his house this year, the least we can do is wash the dishes."
McGee enters the kitchen with an assortment of jars and coffee cups from the living room. "Well, that clears the table," he announces, setting them down next to the other dirty dishes on the counter. Tony glances over at them and smirks. Gibbs apparently had no glasses in his house, either. At dinner, they had all drinken out of coffee cups, jam jars, and mason jars — no two of them matched. Tony had almost burst out laughing at Ziva's taken-aback expression when Gibbs started passing them out.
He picks up the pie tin from the counter to drop it into the sink, but Abby puts a hand on his arm and stops him. "Hold off on that a sec, Tony," she says, taking it from it. "It hasn't been picked clean yet."
McGee opens his mouth, perhaps to object, but Abby cuts him off with, "Don't be silly, McGee. The more we eat, the less we have to scrub clean. Hey, did you guys notice Gibbs put chocolate sauce over his slice? I'd never seen anyone put chocolate on apple pie before."
Tony grabs a fork and joins Abby in picking crumbs out of the pie tin, so McGee moves to the sink, rolls up his sleeves, and takes over scrubbing duty. "Anyway, it was a great pie, Ziva," he tells her.
"Thank you, McGee." She had baked the pie herself, with sweet green apples and a latticed upper crust. "It is an expression, yes? As American as apple pie?"
"That's right," McGee nods. "You should ask Ducky about it the next time you see him, and I'm sure he can tell you the history of it."
Ducky had attended their Thanksgiving dinner, of course, bringing a small turkey that the rest of them lacked the time to baste and roast. He led them in a traditional Scottish blessing before the meal, but he had gone home early, as soon as they were done eating. No one minded that he didn't stay to help clean up and wash dishes; he was still recovering from a heart attack, after all.
"And I loved your sweet potato casserole," she tells him, adding, when Tony pouts and looks left out, "and Tony's Focaccia bread."
"Italian Foccacia bread," Tony amends. He smiles at Abby as they scrape the pie tin clean. "And I loved Abby's green bean casserole."
"Caffeinated green bean casserole," Abby corrects, mimicking him. "Did I tell you guys I soaked the green beans in Caf-Pow before I casseroled them?"
Tony makes a face, Ziva suppresses the urge to gag, and McGee rolls his eyes and wonders how he's ever going to sleep tonight. He thought his heart rate had felt accelerated since dinner.
"I knew the boss would make mashed potatoes," Tony goes on. He pauses to lick a bit of sticky apple pie filling off his finger. "I called that. Any dish that involves beating something or mashing something – I knew that's what he would make."
"I doubt he even had to mash those potatoes," McGee smirks, handing another dish to Ziva. "He probably just yelled at them until they mashed themselves."
The guys both laugh at that, but they stop suddenly when Gibbs barrels into the kitchen. Tony straightens up from where he'd been leaning against the counter, and McGee almost drops the coffee cup in his hands.
"We were just, uh, washing the dishes, Boss," Tony says quickly. "Did you need help moving the chairs back?"
Gibbs's rickety dining room table wasn't big enough for all of them, so for dinner, Gibbs had moved its chairs into his living room and set them up around the coffee table. The food was served buffet-style on the dining room table, and they had each fixed their own plate and eaten off the couch and chairs. It was far less formal than their Thanksgiving dinner at Ducky's old house, but Gibbs's living room was quite cozy once he built a fire, and they'd all enjoyed sharing each other's food and company.
"I been watching the weather," Gibbs says abruptly. "It started snowing earlier. Hard. It'll be too dangerous to drive in soon."
Tony frowns and yanks up the blinds on the window over the sink. Sure enough, snow is falling thick and fast outside, already piling up on the windowsill.
Abby looks out worriedly, wringing her hands. "It does look bad. Have you called Ducky? Did he get home okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine. He sent me a text. But all the weather reports say the snow is going to keep up through the night, and they're asking everyone except emergency vehicles to stay off the roads."
"Then how are we supposed to get home?" McGee blurts out.
"You're not," Gibbs says shortly, his voice as firm as when he gives them orders in the bullpen. His team faces enough dangerous situations on the job; if he can keep them out of this one, he will. He adds, in a tone that leaves no room for argument, "You're staying here."
Their reactions are exactly what Gibbs had expected. There's a moment of stunned silence while his three field agents exchange incredulous, did he really just say that? looks with each other, and Abby just smiles at him sweetly.
"Wait — you mean, here, Boss? Here at your place?" Tony.
"Stay as in... spend the night?" McGee.
"All of us?" Ziva.
"Aw, Gibbs, that is so nice of you." Abby.
To be continued...