Gibbs strolled into the bullpen a lot later than usual and a little happier than usual. The new part he'd needed for his boat to progress had arrived this morning after a lengthy delay, promising a productive night. His coffee place had gotten their machine fixed so the quality of the cup he clutched was top notch and to top it all off, they'd gotten their perp last night after an arduous search. So as he meandered in, he was pretty pleased with his world and all it contained. And he remained pleased for another split second as he entered his team's area, and then, all the peace vanished. His eyes grew wide as he scanned the room, his military staunchness dissipating as his mouth fell open.

The hell?

His thoughts must have been splashed across his face and his presence must have been pressing, because all four delinquents turned to him in unison. Having been in similar positions with them before, he expected the devilment and amusement to slip from their faces to be replaced by horror. But it didn't, in fact their smiles grew wider and they advanced upon him like the front line in some war he wasn't aware he was fighting. Gibbs was no coward but he sensed physical touching from the way they were smiling, demonically he thought, and stalking him like a juicy elk. He stepped back as they stepped forwards and forced his face into his most ferocious scowl.

It didn't work.

They kept coming.

Time for vocals.

"Right, that's enough. Hold it right there," he growled, "Not another step." He held up his hands for good measure, just daring one of them to jostle his new and improved coffee. It worked. The sight of the precarious cup stopped all four short, no one brave or stupid enough to risk a spillage. But the smiles were still there. Wide and happy and…disconcerting. Gibbs rapidly gathered his bearings as he scanned the room once more, his hackles rising. "You all have ten seconds to explain to me just what in the good hell is going on here." He zeroed in on Tony. "That means you have about nine seconds left to live, DiNozzo."

If that were supposed to terrorise him, it didn't have the desired effect.

He laughed.

Cheerfully.

Gibbs' brows shot up like a rocket.

"Well Boss," Tony explained happily, "You know what day it is, don't you? And we got our guy and thankfully the services are happily behaving themselves, so no case." He shrugged. "Seemed a good opportunity to embrace the day and all that." Gibbs' eyes bulged. He looked around the room again and suddenly spied a table. That table to an ordinary boss would be an irritation, but to him, it was an irritation all wrapped up in an explanation. He groaned. The surface was covered in enough sugary candies to send a horse into overdrive. He could see some were home produced. His eyes lingered over Abby accusingly and she smiled a hyper smile in response. As if that weren't bad enough, there was a Caf-Pow explosion accompanying the deluge and if their eyes were anything to go by, they'd all drank from the trough.

"What are you talking about?" he barked, "What day is it? What the hell do you all think you're doing?"

He looked around the room and the carnage within it and his tenuous hold on his temper quivered.

"I swear none of you will be sitting for a week if you-"

"Gibbs," Abby squeaked bouncing towards him on the balls of her feet. He didn't back away from her clutches. She was an exception to the rule. "It's St Patrick's Day! Or, Paddy's Day, whichever you prefer. So I got to thinking, you know? We have over fifty staff here that are Irish. Fifty! And she…err I, thought it would be nice to be more inclusive, don't you? Think it would be nice to be more inclusive?" She grinned a sugar induced grin and he felt his will to live deteriorate. "So we've organised a little get together. Of course, everyone's invited. American, Irish." She shrugged. "Peruvian. Whatever. The more the merrier, right?"

She suddenly caught him round the chest and squeezed the life out of him.

Releasing him as he gasped for breath and as the other three smiled sly smiles of victory, she beamed.

"Right?"

He looked at her painted face. He had to admit her shamrocks were very artfully created. But that didn't take away from the fact that they were to start a working day not a frigging all day party. Jenny would have his guts if she came down and saw this. About to vocalise that very thought, he was rendered speechless as she suddenly sashayed down the stairs with a shamrock badge adorning her lapel. Nodding to him as she passed with a chirpy "Afternoon, Agent Gibbs," she stopped short in front of Tony and glanced around the room. "This looks great," she praised, "Good work on short notice Agent DiNozzo. She glanced around the room. "Good work all of you." She glanced at Gibbs with a coy smile on her face. "Except for you, Agent Gibbs. You're late. And therefore you didn't help with any of the preparations for this inclusivity event."

She felt all eyes on her and savoured her moment.

"So I think to make sure the books are balanced, you can sort out the cleaning operation. Agent's DiNozzo, McGee, David and Ms Sciuto shall be joining me for a drink after the party wraps up. You can go ahead and feel free to join us once you have this place back to normal." She rooted in her pocket and produced a small skeleton like key. Throwing it to Gibbs who caught it on instinct, her eyes were full of devilment. "That will let you into the supply closet on the fourth floor. You'll probably need some strong detergents after that lot gets eaten and drunk."

She turned on her expensive heel and clapped her hands.

"You've done a fine job. Until and unless a case comes in, the day is yours. Enjoy it."

She nodded her head at the thoroughly amused looking trio in front of her before walking slowly towards Gibbs and Abby. In that moment, he reminded her of a shaking barrel of dynamite. She could tell her was about to burst with indignation but his ingrained level of respect for command refused to let him. Not that he wouldn't rant and rave in her office, but in front of his team, he treated her as he ought to. She couldn't lie. She enjoyed exerting her power over him. Enjoyed making him squirm. It was after all karma, she reasoned. She had suffered him in a subordinate capacity for a long time; she was just returning the favour.

She smiled pertly at him and spoke only so that he and Abby could hear her.

"Jethro, a dhéanann tú dearmad ár gcuid ama in Éirinn?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth when he gawped at her. "Bhuel, a fháil ar an praiseach glanadh suas agus teacht agus a fheiceáil dom. Tá mé cinnte gur féidir liom a chur i gcuimhne duit ..." She laughed softly. "i gcuimhne duit go bhfuil an lá agus fiche bliain ó shin ... grá agat Phádraig lá."

With that, she was gone.

Leaving Gibbs to gape after her.

"The hell mumbo jumbo was that," he asked himself, weakly, "Is she having a stroke?"

Abby's splutter of laughter brought him back to reality and he felt his gut shrivel up and die.

Abby was the linguistic one.

"You know what she just said?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know. She nodded with a cheeky grin and tipped her head to the side. "I do," she confirmed, and I'll tell you. All you have to do is be home Gibbs instead of work Gibbs for a couple of hours in return." He frowned in confusion and agitation as Tony and Tim scuffled in the background, Ziva putting her money on a Tim victory. Ignoring that for a just a moment, he looked at her in frustration. "What?"

She rolled her eyes.

"You know. Work Gibbs is all gruff and grizzly but home Gibbs is all warm and wise."

He gawped.

Before realising she had a point.

"Ok," he groaned, "Ok. I'll deal with the damned party ok. I'll even manage one smile. Now, what did she say? And don't you dare think about telling those three what it is because you'll find yourself standing for this entire damned party if you do." She snorted at his empty threat and leaned forwards conspiratorially. "You sure you want to know?"

His look was answer enough.

She spoke in a whisper. She straightened up and put on her very best Jennifer Shepherd impression.

"Jethro, do you remember our time in Ireland? Well, get the mess cleaned up and I'm sure I can remind you…remind you that on this day twenty years ago, you loved St Patrick's Day…"

Gibbs felt a burn cover his face. Sweat prickled at the corners of his hairline. He was going to kill her.

He pointed to the sweet laden table. He was about to banish her, before a thought struck him. He spoke quietly, his query vague and private. She stared for a moment, before shrugging and providing an answer. He nodded in acceptance and then threw his head over to the sugar coma corner.

"Go. Eat. And keep quiet."

She bounced up and pecked him on the cheek and rushed over to fix a fallen decoration. A fallen warrior out of the sandstorm of bunting, shamrocks, leprechauns, tri colours and even a sole cauldron of golden foiled chocolate eggs. Tony broke away from the gaggle of people that had begun to arrive. The communal area was now busy and thronged with people that as far as Gibbs was concerned, he had never seen before in his life. Sidling up to the resigned leader, Tony quirked a brow in resignation.

Gibbs' glare only added to that resignation.

"This is my bad, Boss. Director Shepherd came to me, not them." He swallowed but forced himself to be brave. Images of the paddle that lived where he was sure he was going swam in his mind.

"Conference room?"

Gibbs stared for a moment and then his hand shot out. Tony braced himself for seeing stars. But instead all he got was a light ruffle of the hair and a quick slap on the shoulder. "Not this time, DiNozzo," Gibbs said with a surprising gentleness, proud of the kid's bravery and attempts to cover for the others. It was impressive, but superfluous. He chuckled at the shocked look on the kid's face and shrugged. "Aw hell, go on. Eat yourself stupid but don't come whinging to me when you're vomiting in the bathrooms in an hour. You know you can't handle Abby's creations."

Counting his lucky stars in the thousands, Tony dashed away with a fervent "thanks, Boss."

Watching him go with rolling eyes, Gibbs quietly extricated himself from the crowed. Taking the steps two at a time, he walked straight through Jenny's outer office unstopped. Cynthia simply knew better by now. Knocking sweetly on the door, he stepped in quietly at her command. She looked up from her desk and smirked. She was clearly expecting him.

"Jethro, what can I do for you?"

He walked slowly over to her desk, and planted his two hands on the shiny surface. Leaning over her, he raised a brow. "I wanted to talk about progressive opportunities for Abby." She raised a similar brow, surprised. "Oh?" Gibbs smirked. "Oh yes. She has so much to offer. Did you know, for example, she's fluent in Irish?"

Jenny paled and visibly gulped.

She hadn't known that.

Gibbs leaned in closer, his breath tickling her collar.

"I remember our time, Jen. I remember it well. I also seem to remember that it didn't go off without a hitch. I seem to recall that you and I had to have a discussion about that smart mouth of yours. Do you remember? In that ratty hotel on the North side of Dublin?" His eyes roved over her blushing face and he chuckled lightly, leaving her blinking in his wake. "I remember that," he reassured her, "I remember it well…"

He leaned over further still, and spoke in a dangerously soft whisper.

"I think twenty years is too long for you to be without a reminder, Jen. If today is anything to go by, I'd actually say you're overdue Jennifer."

His breath was tickling her skin. His eyes were boring into her soul. He was in her head.

"Cad a cheapann tú?"

…

A/N: So a sick and bed bound Inks combined with St Patrick's day = this! An odd way to celebrate one's national holiday, but you gotta work with what ya got! Just a silly one-shot! Hope you enjoyed and Happy St Patrick's Day everyone!

…