A/N: This oneshot was originally written in April 2008. It was for a Skills Workshop on the NFA. We were supposed to pick an emotion and write a little story about it. Me being me, I decided to pick just the opposite: no emotion, i.e. apathy. There's not a whole lot to it, just a little story written near the beginning of my foray into fanfiction. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. I don't make money off my stories, but man, if I got paid by the word...even a few cents per word, I'd be doing pretty well. ...but alas. :)

Apathy
by Enthusiastic Fish

Tim dragged himself out of bed, into the shower, out of the shower, out of his apartment and into NCIS. He wasn't sick. He wasn't depressed. He couldn't figure out what it was. He just knew that he'd been feeling this way for awhile now.

"Hey, Probie, getting slow!" Tony ribbed him as he stepped off the elevator. "I beat you here today."

"Congratulations, Tony," Tim said without inflection. He ignored Tony after that and sat down at his desk. He worked. He typed. He investigated. He said little until the afternoon when Ziva hovered over his desk.

"What is the matter with you, McGee?" she asked.

Tim looked up at her. Normally, he felt something when confronted by the intimidating and admittedly gorgeous woman standing in front of him. Today, he felt nothing...not even when she put out her hand and felt his forehead.

"You are not feverish. Are you ill in some other way?"

"Maybe it's a tumor," Tony commented from his desk in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.

"I'm not sick, Ziva. I'm the picture of perfect health." He didn't bother to answer Tony. That would involve quoting the next line because he couldn't think of any other way of denying Tony's comment other than by quoting the next line of Kindergarten Cop. He wasn't annoyed. He couldn't muster up the energy to be annoyed. There didn't seem to be any point.

"Are you sure, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Positive." Tim then went back to work. His computer search ended up cracking the case...and he didn't care. Even when they went out and arrested the killer, even when he broke down and confessed in interrogation, Tim didn't care...no, that wasn't true. He was glad that they had managed to get a killer off the streets...wasn't he? He had to be. That was his job and he loved his job...didn't he?

As the sun descended in the sky, signaling the end of the work day, Tim found himself sitting alone at his desk wondering what was wrong with him. Tony and Ziva had teased him and prodded by turns, but since there really wasn't anything wrong, there was nothing for them to find. They had given up and left, and Tim was sitting alone. He didn't care that he was sitting alone, but it bothered him that he couldn't seem to feel any emotion at all.

Then, Gibbs came into the bullpen from...somewhere. Tim had often wondered where he came from when he made these sudden entries...but not today. Today, he simply looked at his boss with little interest and went back to staring blankly at his computer screen and musing on the strange lack of feeling he was having.

"McGee, what's up?" Gibbs asked.

Tim looked up again at Gibbs who was looming...as only Gibbs could do. Not even that elicited an emotional response and Tim began to wonder if he had somehow been afflicted with some sort of...emotion-killing disease.

"Nothing, Boss. Absolutely nothing."

To his surprise, Gibbs seemed to know exactly what he meant by that. Gibbs walked away, grabbed his chair, wheeled it over to Tim's desk and sat down.

"How long?"

"How long?" Tim repeated in confusion.

"How long have you felt this way, McGee?"

Tim shrugged. "A couple of weeks, I suppose. I haven't really been paying attention."

Gibbs smiled. "When was the last time you took a vacation?"

Tim looked at him blankly. "Vacation?"

"Yes, McGee. The time when people don't work?"

Tim tried to remember the last time he hadn't been working on something. He was silent so long that Gibbs actually started to chuckle.

"Well, that answers my question."

"It doesn't answer mine."

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and explained patiently, "You're burned out, McGee."

"No, I'm not," Tim protested. "I've been working fine. People who are burned out don't. They do weird things; they go postal."

"...or apathetic."

Tim was silent, digesting this novel idea.

"McGee, you probably have enough vacation time saved up to take the entire summer off. Take a week."

Tim couldn't figure out what Gibbs was saying. He felt stupid, but he really didn't get it. It must have shown on his face because the smile faded from Gibbs' face.

"McGee, I'm telling you to take a break, a vacation. In fact..." He stood up. "I'm ordering you to take a vacation."

Tim stood up as well, nonplussed. "Why, Boss? I don't need a vacation."

"Yes, you do, McGee. If even Tony and Ziva are noticing the difference, you need a vacation."

Tim thought through the idea. It wasn't abhorrent to him...but it wasn't exciting either. "What will I do?"

Gibbs smiled again. "I don't know. Take a trip somewhere. Go for a walk. However, you may not work at all for a week."

Tim nodded slowly, thinking that at least he could maybe break out of his writer's block on his book.

"...and that includes your book as well."

"What? That's not work."

"Isn't it?"

"I mean...well, I do get paid, but...it's something I...just do."

Gibbs grabbed Tim's jacket and shoved it into his hand. Tim looked at it, still feeling stupid.

"If you have deadlines and stress, it's a job and you should treat it as such. You're taking a break, McGee, if I have to schedule your flight myself. No work. No book. You've been slowing down over the past few weeks. I've noticed. Today was just the most obvious instance. I appreciate your devotion, but if you notice that you're feeling...apathetic about something you love...and I know you love it, McGee. Otherwise, you wouldn't still be here. If you notice that, then, there's a problem and you need to take a break and recharge...otherwise, you just might go postal."

Tim slowly sank back down onto his chair, his jacket still in his hand. "Am I screwing up, Boss?"

"No, McGee. This happens to people when they work too hard. I'd say that probably describes you for the past four years...if not beyond that. The miracle is that you haven't had this problem before."

"Then...you're not firing me?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "No." He looked Tim in the eye. "If you were anyone else, I'd be tempted to headslap you for being deliberately annoying."

"So...you're ordering me to take a vacation."

"Don't make me repeat myself again, McGee."

Tim tried to think of something to do on a vacation. Nothing came to mind. "I don't know what to do, Boss."

"You'll figure it out. I don't want to see or hear from you for another seven days. Actually, since it's Friday night, I don't want to see or hear from you until a week from Monday. If I find out that you have tried to do anything beyond relaxing, I will fire you. Got it?"

"Yes, Boss." Tim still didn't move. Gibbs sighed and grabbed Tim by the arm, dragging him to the elevator. He pushed him onto it and pushed the button sending it down. Then, he stepped back out and watched Tim's puzzled face disappear behind the closing doors.

Gibbs sighed. He should have caught that sooner. Tim really was burned out. He was so burned out that he didn't even realize it. Hopefully, a week would do it. If not, Gibbs would send him out again. He didn't want to lose Tim as an agent and Tim didn't deserve to be lost, not because he was trying to work too hard.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim sat and stared at his computer wondering what to do. Normally, he would sit and stare uselessly at his typewriter and try to think of something to type, but he intended to follow Gibbs' orders. What will I do for a week? Then, he smiled, the first genuine smile he'd expressed in weeks. Then, because he was Tim, he pulled out his planner and began to draw up a schedule of everything he was going to do during that week...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Monday morning...

Gibbs walked into Abby's lab and heard voices. It was early yet and he was surprised to see both Tim and Abby looking at something on the computer. He stopped just inside the doors and listened.

"...and then, I came back here on Thursday and spent the whole day at the Air and Space Museum. I haven't been there in ages. I made Sarah go along with me and we got some stupid pictures taken. We pretended to be tourists and asked for directions to places all over DC. We walked everywhere, ate crappy tourist food and even bought t-shirts from people on the street."

"Tim, you're such a nerd."

Gibbs watched as Tim's grin grew wider. "I know, but do you know how long it's been since Sarah and I just hung out together? It's been a long time and we're in the same city. It was really nice to go home for a couple of days. I hadn't seen my parents since Christmas and Dad had me talk to one of his classes about the rocky road to success as a writer."

"McGee, now, you know I love you and all, and I understand that you had a great vacation, but...a word of advice? Don't tell Tony that you spent you entire vacation visiting your family and hanging out in tourist traps."

Tim laughed. "More fodder for the cannon, I suppose. But, man, it was actually hard to come back today."

"That's what vacations will do for you."

"I guess so."

Gibbs quietly snuck back out of the lab. At least for now, the apathy was broken. Tim seemed back to his old self...and Gibbs was definitely relieved. When Tim came back up to the bullpen a few minutes later, he was smiling to himself and seemed to have a bounce in his step that he hadn't had before.

"McGee!" Gibbs said sharply.

Tim stopped and looked momentarily worried. Gibbs could tell that he was mentally trying to figure out if he'd done something wrong.

"How was your vacation?"

Tim tried valiantly to look nonchalant, but he couldn't. He smiled. "It was great, Boss. Thanks for making me do it."

"Don't plan on it becoming a habit."

"I won't." Tim sat down at his desk and grinned.

FINIS!