A/N: this was my gift in NFA's 2016 SESA exchange for Akaeve: I have not told her yet how much thanks I owe her for this prompt, on so many levels, so I won't mention it here until I do. But it took me forever too come to this idea. Once it started, though, I had fun with it – the only downside was that it took me SO long for inspiration I didn't have time to get in everything I would have liked to include. This story is complete in six chapters and an epilogue. I promise to post every few days while I finish up the next chapter in Seasons in the meantime.

Request: general story, without pairings; Gibbs and the Team.

Prompt, in Akaeve's words: "'Fairytale of New York' by Progues/Kirsty McColl or 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer' by Elmo and Patsy. I love both those songs, and the ideas that could come out of them."

Timeframe: Season 2

Unexpected additions: two semi-original characters and not so much of a crossover, as movie character references that insisted on making an appearance. Fingers mightily crossed that the movie is known well enough, and the references general enough, that it won't be distracting.

A belated Merry Christmas and happy holidays to Akaeve and everyone – and for those of you who celebrate, now that it's official – happy Carnival Season!

GRANDMA ALLEGEDLY GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER

It was coming on dusk on December 25, Gibbs was in his basement, languidly sanding his boat, and the two most ebullient members of his extended team, Abby and DiNozzo, were chattering more and more rapidly and enthusiastically about their plans.

"You should come join us, Gibbs," Abby was directing her attention back to him. "It's for charity, and Tony has been amazing with the team. I mean, he showed me one little thing to change in how I held the ball and like bam! Curve, but only when I want to, and where it needs to go. He even showed me a trick to pick up the split."

"Tony's your coach?" Gibbs asked, finding himself relaxed enough to be pulled into their conversation just by being so near their onslaught. "Do you even bowl, DiNozzo?"

"Well, sure, Boss," his agent shrugged. "P. E. degree, remember? "E" as in education? And the Ohio State University had the idea that they were sending me out to teach all this stuff, and not just in schools, but in rec halls and community centers and all kinds of places, to all kinds of people. And, to teach them all kinds of sports. So, yeah. I bowl."

"He's awesome, Gibbs..." Abby gushed.

"But I'm an even better coach," he grinned smugly.

"We're gonna win the holiday tournament this year; I know it!" Abby did a little victory dance in place to prepare.

"Boss, you should come," Tony agreed. "You know about Abby's team, right?" His eyes twinkled as he grinned wider, leaning toward Gibbs conspiratorially. "They're ... they're nuns, Gibbs. Real nuns!"

"Why are you always so weird about that, Tony?" Abby rolled her eyes and flapped her hand in what was clearly a repeated gesture of her frustration. "It's not like they take a vow of poverty and chastity and no bowling..."

"But they haven't worn the big floppy hats yet at practice. I'm wondering if they're saving them for the tournament."

"What 'big floppy hats?'" Abby frowned, clearly in new DiNozzo territory.

Gibbs couldn't hide his smirk. "Think he's talking about 'the Flying Nun,' Abbs. Old TV show"

She turned and looked at Tony with disbelieving eyes, waiting. He didn't disappoint. "Well, c'mon, Abbs. I mean ... Gidget? As a nun? Flying around like a swallow at Capistrano?"

"Before my time, Tony..." She said primly.

"Ha! See? You wouldn't know it was before your time if you didn't know who I was talking about..."

Gibbs straightened, looking at them as he wondered again how he had managed to get two such adolescent types on his team, who were so damn good at their jobs on the clock...

And Tony got the hint. "We better get going, Boss. Sister Rosita is bringing a couple of the newer team members out for an hour or so for some extra help. We were gonna grab a pizza after. Want us to get extra and bring it by? Nothing says Christmas dinner like pizza and beer with the fam."

To his surprise, Gibbs thought that might be just the right thing to keep his mind off his usual, more morose Christmas thoughts. "I got the beer. Lucky for you two; hard to find a package store open on Christmas night."

"Not if you're a cop who knows local cops," Tony grinned widely. "See ya in a couple hours, Boss."

Abby and Tony bustled up the stairs and through Gibbs' living room to the front door. A half step behind Abby, Tony opened the door for her and the pair came face to face with another pair – a pair of stone-faced, squeaky-clean-cut men in black suits, white shirts, narrow black ties, and overly-serious expressions.

"Gibbs here?" the older one asked.

"Who's asking?" Tony stepped out around Abby and slid in between her and the men.

Abby's eyes grew wide as she tipped forward slightly toward Tony's ear and stage-whispered, "ohmygawd Tony, they look just like..."

"Agents 'J' and 'K' from Men in Black? Yeah, Abbs, I see that..." Tony frowned. "Except for the cute little decorations on the suits, gentlemen, she's right. Nice movie rip off, but you're a bit late for Halloween."

At his words, Abby stood on tip-toe to peer over her protector's shoulder and noticed very small line of piping – a tiny twist of glittery red and white for one, blue and silver for the other – along the lapel and above the cuff line on the men's suit coats, so fine it took sharp eye to catch. Only Tony would notice that, she thought, but emboldened by their less-than-serious suits and the fact that they had not yet forced their way inside, she decided to challenge them, too. "What do you want with Gibbs?"

"Abbs..." Tony warned, low. He had this, she knew, and she leaned back again and lowered herself back on her heels.

"So ... he is here," the older one said, still not moving.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the first, then looked at the second – then snorted. "Okay, you do a passable Tommy Lee Jones," he said the first, "but nobody's gonna mistake you for Will Smith," he told the second. "You got no charisma, no sizzle. Hell, you haven't even said anything and Smith woulda stolen the scene by now."

The older man's eyes flicked suddenly from Tony's face to just behind him, and the look in them shifted slightly. "Gibbs," he nodded, quietly.

Abby glanced back but Tony didn't need to; he thought he'd heard the stairs from inside, and the man's glance behind him confirmed it.

"Jones," Gibbs said in return.

Tony perked up, swiveling first to look at Gibbs, then back at the stranger in the doorway. "No! Not really. Really? He's really Jones?"

The younger man stranger spoke for the first time, almost showing a small smirk as he tipped his head as he introduced himself. "And Smith."

"No way. Not even on Christmas," Tony muttered as he stood slightly aside, allowing his boss to either come forward and speak to the men or invite them in. He was hoping for the former.

But Gibbs was all business, and his expression was as serious as those worn by the mystery men, "Something?"

"Maybe."

Gibbs wavered a moment but finally cocked his head sideways in invitation, leading the pair further inside and leaving Abby and Tony at the doorway. Not asked to join the others nor told to leave, the two looked at each other for a moment before Tony pulled the door shut, and they trailed the men into Gibbs' living room, Tony unwilling to leave Gibbs' six without back-up, and Abby unwilling to leave before she learned what was going on, or was kicked out for trying.

No one sat. 'Jones' pulled out a typed document a couple pages long and handed it to Gibbs, who looked it over, his frown darkening as he did. While Gibbs read, Jones looked to 'Smith' and gave him a nod, at which Smith pulled out what appeared to be an ultra-thin, good-sized phone that even their technoprobie would drool over. Without speaking, Smith poked at it a couple times and, when Gibbs surfaced from what he read, held his device up for Gibbs to see.

As Smith poked the 'phone' a few more times, showing Gibbs more of whatever he had on his screen, Tony leaned over to Abby and moaned, "great. A room full of Gibbses who communicate silently, and we don't have the pass code into their heads. No wonder they just let us stay without an argument."

"Not if you keep it up, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled under his breath. He looked again at the proffered phone then back to the paper in his hand for a moment, then looked up to Jones. His expression was still concerned, but less so, and now more his usual cranky demeanor saved for other alphabet agents. "Well, what do you want me to do? It's not exactly Navy or Marines. This too tough a case for you hot shot spooks with your super toys?"

Jones breathed out his frustration. "You know the extent of the fallout this one could have, Jethro. It needs to be investigated quickly, while it's still contained, and without screw-ups. This time of year we are spread particularly thin anyway, but I thought in the circumstances you might want to help ..."

"Ya think?" Gibbs' patience was growing thin. "Ya gonna read me in or not?"

Jones hesitated, then glanced at the younger pair at the edge of the room, still hovering elbow to elbow, clearly still in the dark but watching intently and hoping for enlightenment. "From their performances, I take it that this is Ms. Scuito ... and Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Why would they know us?" Abby worried under her breath to Tony.

Gibbs looked over to her, his expression softening slightly. "It's okay, Abby," he assured her. "They're federal agents, too. Just ... for a less public one."

"Which?" Tony was suddenly all business. He couldn't think of any legitimate agency that was more cowboy than NCIS, and the whole trick-or-treat aspect of this visit was making him nervous.

Not answering his agent, Gibbs instead turned to lock eyes with the older "agent," clearly someone he knew previously, and after a moment he snorted and turned to look at Tony. "Later," he said quietly, hoping his second would trust him for the time being. At the concern still on DiNozzo's face, he relented a bit more, reassuring him, too. "Need to know for now."

"How about we read all three of you in – with your permission, Gibbs – although Director Morrow already approved NCIS involvement, your lead, with whomever or whatever resources we need." When Gibbs just rolled his eyes without complaint, Tony's frown went even deeper, a look not missed by Jones. "We – and Gibbs – may need your help with this one, Agent DiNozzo. And yours, Ms. Scuito. A lot of threads to follow and not a lot of time."

"Boss," Tony tried, eyes still on Jones, warily, "you know ... McGee'll be back in a few hours, too. He's getting on a red eye later tonight. He'll be in at National at 0655."

Jones' expression clouded momentarily, and glanced briefly at Smith, who responded with a rapid few pokes at his magic phone. After a quick scan, Smith handed it to Jones, who looked it over as well. "He's still pretty new with you, Gibbs. Since these two have been with you as long as they have," he nodded to the two in front of them, "and are still putting up with you, that's good enough for me..."

"Well – that and your agency's background checks and all," Smith murmured, apparently unable to resist the moment, which earned him stony looks in stereo from Gibbs and Jones. Even in the circumstances, Smith's apparent resistance to the glares won him a moment of grudging respect from DiNozzo – almost enough to ease the disturbing familiarity Jones seemed to have not only with Gibbs, but even the newest member of his team.

"...but McGee," Jones was shaking his head, moving on past Smith's comment. "He's a probie, Jethro. He hasn't even been with you a year. And his father's a four star. You ready to vouch for him, given the stakes?"

Gibbs was keenly aware of the two pair of eyes watching him closely for his response, and for reasons wholly unrelated to the case – much too personal for this kind of work. Even so, he could say honestly: "I'll vouch for the fact that he's catching on a lot faster than most probies would be at this point, and he's light years ahead of all of us on anything computer. You leave him to us. We could probably use his help."

Jones considered for a moment, then nodded. At that, Gibbs said, "Tony, let McGee know we'll need him as soon as he gets in. Unless he has his car there, you can pick him up and get him up to speed on the way in – and get him some food if he needs it."

Tony nodded and asked, soberly, "so you're reading us in?"

"Not here," Jones murmured. "NCIS. You'll have to go back there to get started, anyway. And we need at least a secure location. Your SCIF would be even better."

"I suppose Director Morrow approved you for that, too."

"Full access, Jethro. And I did mention our need to move this along to get a lid on things before it multiplies?" Jones pressed.

Gibbs snorted, but said, "DiNozzo, you get Abby and Smith here to NCIS. I'll ride with Jones."

"Jethro, I'm touched," the other senior agent finally cracked the tiniest smile with Gibbs' acquiescence. "Or should I be insulted?"

"Just reminded that some of us know all about your 'clandestine service.'" Gibbs said dryly. "I need the whole story – the one you won't share in a group. Especially why you need us in on this investigation."

TBC...