Books of Memories

Summary: McGee wants to give Gibbs a Christmas gift, and finally has the perfect idea. But he'll need the entire team's help to do it. And how will Gibbs react to his present? Sequel to 'Children in His Hands'.

Chapter One: A Christmas Idea

"Ah, Christmas." Tony leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile and a sigh. " A season of good cheer, presents..."

"And Christmas parties, at which one can usually find...companionship, I assume." Ziva finished the sentence, looking over her desk with a smug smile. "I, of course, do not celebrate Christmas in the traditional sense, but it is hard to miss the signs. They have been up since..."

"Since Thanksgiving. You know, it's still two weeks away, but a lot of people like to have parties early." Tony returned the grin. "You should go. Might even find some...companionship. It might not be traditional, but..."

"I do not need to attend parties, if I wish a companion." Ziva's brow arched in the particularly knowing look she had. "So...how many of these parties are you attending, Tony?"

He shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I am not telling you, Miss David."

Ziva shrugged. "You are at least attending the NCIS staff party this year, I trust? After all, we did already draw names for the gift exchange." She smiled again. "You would not want to disappoint."

"Why?" Tony leaned forward on his desk, his own eyebrow arching with a smirk that was just short of a leer. "Did you...draw my name, Miss David?"

She smirked back. "You will simply have to come and find out."

Tony shrugged. "Have to come anyway." He held up the creased piece of paper. "I drew Abby this year. She'd cry if I didn't give her a present." A considering frown crossed his face. "Come to think of it, I don't know what to get her yet. What kind of present do you get a Gothic Forensic Scientist anyway?" He frowned again, then grabbed a piece of paper, crumbled it, and lofted it the direction of McGee's desk. "Hey, you and Abby were close. What does she like?"

"That was a while ago, Tony." McGee sighed. "She likes goth stuff, new lab equipment...stuffed animals..." He frowned in consideration. "Come to think of it, I think she mentioned she was having problems with her skates, or something like that. You should look into it." He turned back to his own desk.

"Thanks." Tony studied him a moment. "You know...I mention holiday giving, and you got that little frown on your face. We don't have a new case, so it has to be...let me guess, the Christmas party."

McGee sighed. "Yes. I'm having a little trouble, okay?"

"Really? So...who did you draw?" Tony grinned. "Maybe I can help."

McGee sighed again. "Don't ask. Please don't ask."

"Ah, come on, how hard could it be?" Tony grinned, then cocked his head. "Unless...you got me. Is that it, Timmy?"

"No. I did not draw you." McGee shot him a look. "And don't call me Timmy. You know I hate that."

"All in the spirit of fun." Tony shook his head. "Seriously though..."

"If it is someone that you do not know well in the department, then perhaps one of us does. We could help you out." Ziva chimed in.

"Oh, hey, was it that chick from the psych department? The one who used to have a crush on you? Cause I have a few ideas for that, if you're interested. And she is kinda hot..."

"It isn't her." McGee sighed and pushed back from his desk, knowing he wasn't going to get any work done. "I wish it were that easy."

"Then who?" Ziva folded her hands in front of her, taking the posture she usually had when she was perfectly willing to wait it out. Beside him, Tony was watching him intently.

McGee ran a hand through his hair and released an exasperated huff. "I got Gibbs, okay?"

The smile dropped from Tony's face into a grimace of sympathy. "Ouch. That is a tough one." he frowned, thinking again. "What do you get the guy who really does want nothing for Christmas? Maybe you should give him an IOU on a trip to a lumber yard. Or some varnish, or something."

"Tony." Ziva shot him an admonishing look. "Even you could do better than that."

"I'm just saying..." Tony shrugged. "You know, the other option is to give him a gag gift. Like something really really stupid. Maybe a set of bunny ears, or a Playboy magazine, or even..."

"I am not getting Gibbs a gag gift." McGee glared at him. "He'd probably just shoot me, or something."

Tony frowned. "There is that."

"You should ask Abby, or Ducky. Perhaps they would have an idea." Ziva was considering options.

McGee grimaced. "I already tried that."

"Then I guess you are...what is the word? Sunk?"

"You're all gonna be that, if I don't have those reports and case files you're supposed to be working on done soon." Gibbs strode into their area of the bullpen, moving towards his desk with a fresh cup of coffee.

Tony jerked upright. "On it, boss. We were just giving Tim some suggestions about a project he's working on. Quick break, that's all."

"Yeah, well, unless it's those files, or a new case...take care of it outside of work." His gaze came up to wander around the area. "Goes for all of you."

"Got it." All three of them nodded a hasty agreement, then went back to the backlog of reports they were all entering. Holiday seasons generally brought in plenty of paperwork. Only three days earlier, they'd been tracking what they thought was a kidnapping case of a petty officer, only to find out he'd gone to have a quiet getaway with a girlfriend and been stranded with no phone. And of course, there were the usual rash of shore leave issues, assaults, drunk and disorderly reports and so forth. They weren't handling most of the actual cases, but the reports came to NCIS, to be processed so they could be referenced for future cases. Normally, agents didn't do the paperwork, but the clerical staff was always willing to get extra hands, and Vance had volunteered the team. Gibbs had split the paperwork among them, dropped a much smaller pile in his own desk, and was working on who knew what.

McGee sighed again. He wanted to give Gibbs a real present. The man was their boss. More than that, he valued Gibbs. A secondary father-figure, a mentor, the man who consistently had his back, more than any other. And it had only been a couple months since Gibbs had been hit by a car protecting him. He snuck a quick glance around his computer. Gibbs was apparently working hard. His arm had come out of it's sling a few weeks prior, and he was no longer limping. He seemed fine, really, and he'd dismissed him from his voluntary chauffeur detail a month ago.

He remembered the night he'd gone over to visit Gibbs, to thank him. That first night, when the car had hit him. They'd talked, him drinking water, Gibbs nursing a beer along. It had been an odd conversation, far more revealing than he'd ever expected Gibbs to become. The conversation stayed with him, nagging at the back of his mind, but it didn't seem appropriate to ask about such things at work. And somehow, he was too nervous to ask about it outside of work. Sure, Gibbs really didn't lock his doors, and he'd been welcoming enough, but...asking personal questions of Gibbs felt...disrespectful. Invasive even.

"McGee, those reports are not going to magically file themselves while you stare at me." He jerked out of his thoughts to realize he was still frowning over at Gibbs desk, and Gibbs was staring back at him, an odd expression on his face. Actually, a rather irritated expression.

"Sorry boss." He jerked his gaze to his computer, and tried to focus on his reports. But something about the night just kept bothering him.

He suppressed another sigh, then began typing in the data from the report he was working on. He knew it was important, but it was tedious work, and it gave him too much time to think. Still, he tried to keep his focus on the job.

An hour later he was getting cramps in his fingers and shoulders. He stopped to roll them out, and get a snack bar out of his desk drawer to keep himself going. As he leaned over, his eye caught on a picture taped to one corner of his desk. It was a photo his sister had given him as a thank you for getting her out of trouble, when she'd nearly been framed for murder. She'd snuck pictures of the team, then had a friend photo-shop them together into a nice layout. Gibbs, in side-view, watching the rest of them as they 'worked' or goofed off.

McGee blinked. It reminded him of the photos Gibbs had shown him that night. The one carefully constructed of two different pictures, where it looked as if Gibbs was embracing his daughter and another young woman. Maddie Tyler, the girl who'd come to him for help one morning.

The memory of the photo brought back Gibbs words from that night. "I'm never gonna know what Kelly would have been like. I don't get to know her as an adult. But I know you." He remembered his shock, that Gibbs would consider them his children, like the daughter he loved so dearly.

He looked back at the photo on his desk, a thought forming in his mind. The truth was, he hadn't guessed that Gibbs cared for them so much. But he did value the older man, like a father.

He thought of all the things he shared with his real father, and his mother and sister. Of course, in his family, they had stacks and stacks of photo albums, pictures dating from the baby years all the way up to when he'd become an agent.

Photo albums. Pictures. Memories. Childhoods. The words connected in his brain, giving him the answer in a flash. That's it. That's what I can give him. Of course, he wasn't going to give Gibbs such a personal gift here. Something that valuable, and that potentially embarrassing, was best delivered in a private moment. But...

McGee frowned, then opened his email and typed in a message.

Have an idea I'd like to run by you. It's important, and I don't want to discuss it at work. Meet me in the bar down the street at 7? -McGee.

PS. Please don't tell Gibbs. I want to surprise him with something.

He posted the message to the entire team, double checking to make sure Gibbs was not one of the recipients, then fired it off. Ducky and Palmer, he knew, were erratic about checking their email, so he sent the older man a text as well.

"That better be job-related, McGee."

McGee jumped. He hadn't been aware that Gibbs was watching him. The older man's eyes were glancing at the cell phone. Of course.

"Just...checking something with Ducky, boss." He sighed in relief when the agent went back to his work, then added a quick, 'please email me' to the message before sending it off.

An hour later, he had his replies, all affirmative. He sighed in relief, then set himself to finishing as many files as possible, so Gibbs wouldn't have an excuse to hold him back at the end of the day. Not that the files had any great urgency about them, but he didn't want to be accused of slacking.

Finally, the end of the day rolled around. Ducky was the first to leave, coming up and waving them all a cheerful 'good evening'. Tony took the excuse to run, saying he'd hit a stopping point for the day and might as well go. Shortly after, McGee managed to excuse himself as well. He felt a little guilty, but it was the end of shift. Besides, he really didn't want to be the last one in the bullpen with Gibbs. He was absolutely sure the man would guess he was planning something.

Ducky, Tony and Palmer were waiting when he arrived at the bar. Tony grinned and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Okay, McMystery. What's this plan? I mean...trying to surprise Gibbs...that takes a lot of guts and native sneakiness."

"Indeed. I confess, I am quite as curious as young Anthony." Ducky was looking at him. "I do hope you're not planning on trying to play a prank on Jethro. That would be most unwise. I remember...there was this fellow, just when Jethro was getting his start as a senior agent..."

"It isn't a prank, Ducky. It's just something I wanted to get him for Christmas. But I'm gonna need help, okay?" he sighed. "Can we please get a table, and wait for Ziva and Abby?"

"An excellent suggestion." Ducky waved over one of the staff, and within moments they had a table for six secured. Minutes later, Abby and Ziva strolled in, Abby's eyes scanning for them.

She spotted them group and waved, then made a beeline for them, Ziva right behind her. As soon as she reached the table, she sat down and focused the full intensity of her 'forensic scientist stare' on him. "Okay, McGee, spill. What's this big thing you've got going on? And why, exactly, are we trying to surprise Gibbs? Cause that's usually not safe, and you're not usually this sneaky. So...what are you planning?"

McGee swallowed. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. His idea had sounded good, in his head, in the squad room in the middle of the afternoon. Faced with actually convincing the others to help him implement it...that was a whole different story.

"McGee...if you do not say something, very quickly, then I will be tempted to start trying to choke it out of you." Ziva was grinning slightly, and he didn't think she was seriously threatening him, but still...he swallowed.

"Umm...right. Well, the thing is, I have an idea of something to give Gibbs for Christmas. But for it to work properly, it kind of needs to be a team effort. But, first of all..." He turned to the Goth sitting beside him. "Abby, do you still do any scrap-booking, or anything like that?" He knew she had, at one time, and she took tons of photos, of just about anything that interested her.

"I do." She searched his eyes. "What's this about, McGee?"

He swallowed. "You remember when we had that case? The one where that guy hired all those hit men to try and kill his girlfriend so she wouldn't testify?"

"You mean the one where Gibbs saved you from an oncoming car, and nearly got pancaked? The one that involved putting our fearless leader in a sling for two months, and made you his little errand boy?" Tony was grinning. "Yeah, McGee, I'm pretty sure we all remember that one."

"Yes. It was a few months ago, as I recall." Ducky frowned. "But I'm afraid I don't see the relevance, unless you wish to buy Jethro some medical equipment to deal with his tendency to hurt himself. Though I should warn you, it will probably simply collect dust."

"That isn't it. See...that night, I went over to his house, to thank him for saving me. And we got to talking." He swallowed again. The conversation that had occurred between them was a private thing. He didn't want to reveal too much of it, but he wanted the team to understand why he was asking them to help him.

"Am I to guess that Jethro said something that has made a particular impact?" Ducky was studying him.

"Yeah. He said...he said the injuries were worth it, because he was protecting us. And because...because he considers us...well, he kind of..." It was hard, trying force the words past his throat. Finally, he tried to address his words to Ducky. "He implied that it was okay, because we were family."

"Gibbs said that?" Abby blinked. "Gibbs, never says stuff like that. I mean...he kind of hints sometimes, but says...just like that... that is kinda weird."

"Yeah." Tony was staring at him. "You sure you didn't imagine it?"

"Yes, Tony, I am sure I did not imagine it." McGee sighed. "Look, it was kind of late, he was hurting, and he was drinking a little. I think it just sort of slipped. But that's not the point."

"Then perhaps you should get to the point, McGee." Ziva was watching him, and her eyes were quiet, understanding. He had a brief moment to wonder if she'd had one of those odd confidences with Gibbs herself. Certainly, they were close.

He sighed, and decided to simply launch his idea and see what happened. "In my family, we make a lot of photo albums. Family memories, childhood stuff, that kind of thing. It's a way of sharing things. So...I want to make a scrap-book, or a photo album, for Gibbs. Something special. And I'd like each of you guys to make one too."

"Wow. Interesting notion." Abby had an upraised eyebrow, and a faintly admiring expression on her face. "So, were you thinking just NCIS stuff, or you want to go a little earlier? Like, were you going to put in baby pictures or something?"

He felt a slow flush creeping up the back of his neck. "Well...maybe not baby pictures, exactly, but...possibly one or two from when I was younger. A kid even." There was no doubt about it, he was probably crimson by now, but it couldn't be helped.

"Oh God. You have to be joking." Tony's expression was half amused, half terrified. "Giving Gibbs photos from childhood. Why don't you just hand him an envelope marked 'BLACKMAIL MATERIAL HERE'. In big, bold, black lettering, so even Vance can see it from that catwalk of his."

"On the contrary, I think it would be an excellent idea." Ducky spoke, relatively soft, but with an intensity that made all of them turn to him. The ME blinked, registering their stares. "Haven't you ever realized...? Well, of course not, I suppose. Jethro does tend to be a bit camera shy. But he always liked taking photographs, particularly of things that matter to him."

"I've never seen Gibbs taking photos, unless it was a crime scene." Tony frowned.

"I have." Abby spoke up. "I mean, he kind of avoids them, and I've never actually caught him taking them, but sometimes he'll leave new ones of the team on my desk. It's like really rare, and they're always shots where you guys aren't looking, but he's really good. And sometimes you are looking, but not like you're posing...I mean Gibbs is, like, the master of subtle."

"Creepy. Makes me wonder what he has on me." Tony shivered.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Anthony. My point is, Jethro does appreciate photographs. But more than that, I think Timothy's idea has particular merit. I've suspected for a long time that Jethro has been allowing his team to become a sort of surrogate family, to replace, in part, the one he lost. Being able to see, even distantly, the events that made you into the people you are would bring him a great deal of joy." Ducky's eyes went distant. "More than anything...I think he rather regrets not having such records of his own wife and child. Or at least, not having more of them."

"Did Agent Gibbs not take pictures when he was younger?" Palmer blinked.

"I can't say. However, I do know that Gibbs was in the marines at the time Shannon and Kelly were alive. I believe he was deployed much of the time, and there is no telling whether or not Shannon took any pictures while he was away. Of course, I find it highly unlikely that she did nothing to preserve the memories for him, but that does not change the fact that Jethro probably missed a great deal. And I suspect he is aware of it, and occasionally has cause to regret it."

"That may be true, but it's not like we can replace those." Tony's voice was quiet.

"No. But it does not hurt to give the man something else to consider." Ducky sipped his drink. "If nothing else, it brings you closer together, and it is people, friends and family more than anything, that Jethro needs in his life."

"No kidding. I mean, I love Gibbs, but sometimes he can make Batman look social." Abby grinned.

Ziva frowned. "Batman?"

"Cartoon character." Tony smirked. "He lives in a huge mansion with his trusty butler Alfred and Robin, the boy wonder, waiting for the bat signal to light up and summon him to fight evildoers." he made a dramatic gesture with his hands, just missing Palmer's head.

"I am confused." Tony started to open his mouth, but Ziva held up a hand. "Never mind. I believe I get the idea. A crime fighter, who is largely isolated, yes?"

"Yep." Abby nodded.

"I see. That does describe Gibbs, to a large extent."

"Except that this is Washington, and Gibbs is hardly a millionaire."

"Look, Tony, would you get back on track, please?" McGee sighed. "The point is, I want to give Gibbs something special. Something important. I think this might be it. So, are you guys in or not?"

"I'd be delighted." Ducky grinned. "Even Jethro hasn't heard all my stories yet, and this would be a fine time to enlighten the dear man. Besides...I've several albums that mother kept that I haven't looked through in years. This will be the perfect opportunity."

Palmer shrugged. "I don't see why not. I mean...considering some of the other stuff he already knows about me..." He shrugged again, a sheepish smile on his face.

Tony perked up. "What other stuff, Autopsy Gremlin?"

"Tony." Abby grinned, then she reached out and patted McGee's hand. "I'm behind you all the way, McGee. I think this is an awesome idea. Just tell me what you need."

McGee heaved a sigh of relief. He had only the vaguest idea of what to do, and her help would make this project actually doable. He turned to the other two members at the table. "Ziva? Tony?"

Tony made a face. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I think it is an excellent idea." Ziva nodded.

Tony's head snapped around. "Wait, you do?" He stared at her, surprise on his face. "You're actually going to voluntarily give Gibbs embarrassing pictures?"

"I am going to voluntarily give him photos of my life. I did not say they would be embarrassing. But...it is only fair." She glanced at the others. "I do not know how this team was before I came, but I know that since I joined you, we have, all of us, been rather shameless about prying into Gibbs' life. Ever since the incident that led to his brief retirement, we have all looked for excuses to dig into his history. And I think he has been rather patient with us for it. It seems fair to offer something back."

Tony grimaced. "You might have a point there."

"Are you in, Tony?" Ziva favored him with a faintly challenging smile. "Or are you too scared?"

"I'm not scared. I just think it's crazy." Tony grinned. "But if you can do it, Miss David, I guarantee I can." He frowned. "The trick is finding pictures. My dad wasn't much of a camera guy. Neither were any of his wives or girlfriends."

Abby grinned. "That's what's great about scrap-booking, as opposed to, like, regular albums. See, in scrapbooks, you can post pieces of stuff, as long as it's mostly flat. Tickets, posters, book covers, stuff like that. I mean, a lot of people like to use pictures, but you can use just about anything you want."

"Oh. Well, that makes it easier. And a little less insane." Tony made a humorous face, then sipped his drink. "So, McGee, what's the time frame for this little project of yours?"

McGee frowned, considering. "The office Christmas party is next week. If we finish somewhere around then?"

Tony frowned. "You aren't going to give him that at the office party, are you? He'll probably read them aloud to the Director." Tony shuddered.

"No. Not at the office party. I was just thinking we could have them finished by then, and then one of us can drop them off or something, after work."

Abby considered. "It's doable. I mean, it's a little rushed, but we could totally finish, if we work fast."

"Well, the faster we work, the less time Gibbs has to catch us."

"An excellent point." Ducky nodded. "I think, if we want to avoid him catching us at the office, that perhaps my home might provide a suitable environment." There were nods all around. "Very well. Now then...the only question remains, how and when?"

An hour later, the plans were in place. McGee bid the others good night, then picked up the tab for the food and drink, and headed toward his own apartment. He couldn't help feeling a bit nervous, but there was no helping it now. He only hoped Gibbs understood what they were trying to give him, and didn't embarrass them all too much.

Author's Note: So...I've wanted to write this for a while now, but it only just came together. This is supposed to be the Christmas after 'Jetlag' and a sequel to my story 'Children in His Hands'. I just thought it would be cool for the team to give him something, to show him their support and care for him. And I remembered Maddie giving Gibbs the photo in 'Requiem'...and this just seemed to fit somehow.

Will try to finish this by Christmas...hope to succeed.