Sunday

Disclaimer: I don't own anything connecting to the show.

Summary: "Sitting on the cold floor of an unfamiliar house with her hands tied behind her back, Ziva couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips. Of course from all her plans for the weekend only the killing headache and her rolling stomach actually came to be realized… and the fact that she was in a basement." When Team Gibbs gets called in on a Sunday morning, things begin to get out of hand quickly…

This story was written for MollyGibbs101 for the Secret Santa Exchange on NFA. I hope you liked it Molz! :)

Chapter 1

It was Sunday afternoon and Ziva couldn't believe her luck… or lack thereof.

If anyone would have asked her on Friday what she'd do on her Sunday afternoon, she would have answered that she'd be curled up in her comfy recliner in Gibbs' basement with a book in hand and Gibbs working away on his boat.

Although her plans changed by Saturday afternoon, the basics remained the same. When Abby called in the early afternoon to invite her and Gibbs out with the team for a couple of drinks, Ziva was sure that she'd spend her Sunday afternoon curled up in her comfy recliner in Gibbs' basement with a jasmine tea in hand and nursing a serious hangover with Gibbs working away on his boat and smirking at her and her inability to hold her liquor.

Sitting on the cold floor of an unfamiliar house with her hands tied behind her back, Ziva couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips. Of course from all her plans for the weekend only the killing headache and her rolling stomach actually came to be realized… and the fact that she was in a basement.

Sitting by the table, Gibbs stared at the mug in front of him. As the rich smell of fresh coffee hit his nostrils, he frowned and let out a silent "damn". He took a deep breath and willed the nausea to go away. He couldn't even remember a time when he had drunk so much that even the thought of coffee made him sick.

"Damn," he muttered again, pushing the mug away from him then he turned his head when he could hear Ziva coming down the stairs. He watched as his girlfriend entered the kitchen, arms outstretched, eyes practically closed. A small smile was playing on his lips as Ziva tried to feel her way around the room. When she finally found the chair and plopped down with a heavy sigh, she cracked an eye open and looked at Gibbs accusingly.

"I hate you," she told him. "How could you let me drink that much?"

"I was kinda preoccupied with drinking too much myself," he shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, I'm sick as hell, too."

"While it definitely does not make me feel better, it certainly makes me happy," she retorted, burying her face into her palms.

"That's kinda mean, don't ya think?"

"No," she shook her head slightly, her voice muffled by her hands. "My headache is mean," she explained, lifting her head and looking at him. Then she looked at the abandoned mug of coffee and made a face. "Is that coffee? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"It makes me sick just thinking about it."

"Join the club."

"We need tea," she concluded. "Jasmine tea."

"Jasmine tea?" This time it was Gibbs who made a face. "Are you trying to poison me?"

"Do not give me that look, Jethro. If anything, that will settle our stomach." With that she stood to prepare the tea. They winced when Gibbs' phone began ringing. On a Sunday it could only mean one thing: work.

When Ziva managed to ignore any uncomfortable circumstances that had made her unable to concentrate on anything other than her misery, she became aware of a presence in the room with her… and this presence made noises… small, rustling noises. It was as if a mouse were loitering around. But then Ziva could feel her arms being pulled behind her… repeatedly.

The repeated motion was accompanied by some unintelligible muttering and an occasional giggle. Giggle, Ziva frowned then it downed on her.

"Palmer, is that you?"

"Ziva," the boy exclaimed and snapped up his head so quickly that it collided with the back of Ziva's head.

"Ouch," Ziva cried out in pain. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to get us out of here," he explained enthusiastically with the confidence of someone with a working plan.

Ziva groaned.

That was just her luck. If it hadn't been enough that she'd been called in on her day off and then she got herself kidnapped, she was locked up in a cold basement with Jimmy Palmer of all people… a very high Jimmy Palmer.

She was so screwed.

Tony walked into the squad room with a huge idiotic grin on his face. He was in a really good mood and there was nothing that could change that, not even the fact that they had been called in on a Sunday morning.

"Morning, Sweetcheeks." He greeted Ziva with a charming smile while he made his way to his desk but when he turned toward his colleague, already anticipating her usual roll of the eyes, he stopped and frowned. There was no Ziva sitting by her desk. "Hey, McGeek, where is our resident assassin?" Tony swept his head towards the younger agent but then again, there was nobody sitting by that desk, either. "Oh, oh… That is definitely not good," he told no one in particular. He'd been already running a little late and still, he managed to arrive first. It never meant anything good when he was the first one to arrive. Never.

Tony slowly sat down and took another suspicious glance towards the two empty desks. That was when Gibbs walked in… or more like staggered in. His usually confident steps were nowhere to be seen and Tony frowned when his boss actually bumped into Ziva's desk when took his turn a little earlier than he should have. The older man mumbled something under his breath while trying to balance the three paper cups that were towering in his hands. Finally he managed to place one on Ziva's desk then slowly made his way to his desk where he finally slumped into his chair and closed his eyes.

"Next time, we're staying in, Ziver." Gibbs said already half asleep and Tony was about to point out that Ziva hadn't arrived yet, when he heard that his boss began to snore. Gibbs had fallen asleep. Gibbs had actually fallen asleep! Tony slowly stood up and walked up to his boss just to make sure that he was indeed sleeping. Sure enough, Gibbs seemed totally knocked out. Tony scratched the back of his neck thinking. That was just impossible but then his eyes fell on the two cups sitting on the desk. They were two cups of… tea? Tony looked back at Gibbs as if he had grown another head. He even poked him.

Suddenly he didn't know what to do. His colleagues hadn't shown up yet and his boss was snoring by his desk. That was just great! They couldn't possibly drink that much the previous night. He was there; he had his fair share of alcohol and yet he was in the squad room and he was feeling completely all right.

In his confusion there was only one place where he could go… down to Abby's lab. Maybe the Goth could tell him something about… well, at that point anything would do. Tony didn't even know what the case was that they were supposed to work on.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he knew that something was wrong and as he was getting closer to Abby's lab, he had to realize that there was nothing that could be heard from the usually noisy lab. That could only mean one thing… well, actually two, Tony concluded. Either Abby hadn't arrived yet, or she was in a bad mood. It was difficult to decide which one was the better.

Finally it turned out that Abby's lab was empty, so Tony made his way towards the morgue. He placed all of his trust into the old ME. He had to be disappointed, though.

In the morgue there was nobody to be seen, well, except for the autopsy gremlin. Well, Palmer had to do, Tony sighed.

"Hey, Palmer…" Tony stepped into Autopsy with a superior air around him, which he always assumed when he had to interact with the young assistant. But he had to stop in his tracks… and he had to frown at what he saw. Palmer was wiping the surface of the freezers. Well, in itself, it wouldn't have been such a strange sight, after all somebody had to do that, too, and who'd be a better candidate for that job than Palmer… but he was doing it with such speed that Tony could swear the cloth was smoking under his hand. And not just that… he was laughing, no scratch that, giggling excitedly. What was so exciting about wiping the freezers clean, Tony wondered. "Hey, Palmer." Tony tried again to get the younger man's attention. At that the boy turned around so suddenly that he lost his balance for a moment. Then he just stood there with a silly grin on his face.

"What the hell, Palmer?" Tony frowned. "Are you high?" He sure looked wasted.

"Couldn't get any higher," the boy confirmed, still grinning. "But don't worry. I can assure you that I am most capable of doing my job. Actually, I'm so much better than normally, see?" With that he turned back to the sparkling freezers to marvel his handiwork. "Beautiful…" he said in awe.

"All right, get it together, we have a case."

"A case?" Palmer asked completely forgetting that he had actually been called in on a Sunday morning because there was a case. Tony nodded with a heavy sigh and watched mortified as the younger man's face lit up. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "You know, Tony, seeing that I'm super awesome, I could help you guys with the case. I mean, the catching the bad guys part."

"Sure, Jimmy," Tony said sarcastically but Jimmy got excited nonetheless.

"Really?" he asked and Tony just opened his mouth to tell him no when Jimmy went on a roll describing every and any possible scenarios that could come up and where he could save the day.

"All right, Jimmy, the Awesome, you know what I need you to do right now?"

"What?"

"Go, prepare the truck and be ready to go."

"You've got it," Jimmy told him and practically ran out of Autopsy. He came to a screeching halt by the door when Tony called after him.

"And get somebody to drive that truck. Don't want that brilliant brain of yours to end up on the road."

On the way back to the squad room, Tony really hoped that everything he had seen ever since he entered the building was only in his mind and when he'd exit the elevator McGee and Ziva would be sitting by their desks and after an inappropriate comment from him, Gibbs would also appear with coffee in hand, ready to start the day. He had to be disappointed, though, because the only change in the scene in front of him was that Gibbs was awake and talking to… well, it seemed that he was talking to himself. But then a voice that sounded a lot like Ziva's answered him.

"Good morning, boss," Tony greeted Gibbs with a frown as he regarded him carefully.

"What?" Gibbs asked annoyed when Tony just kept on staring.

"Nothing," he shook his head and started toward Ziva's desk. With some anticipation, he crouched and took a look under the table. Ziva was hunched against the side of the desk, eyes closed.

"Hey there, Zeevah! It seems somebody got a good time last night, huh?"

"Let me alone, Tony," Ziva groaned. "My head is bouncing."

"Pounding."

"What?"She opened one eye but she quickly shut it again.

"Your head's pounding, not bouncing."

"Whatever. Neither one is pleasant."

Tony looked at Ziva bewildered then looked at his boss when Gibbs' phone began to ring. Gibbs threw his phone to Tony.

"Special Agent Gibbs' phone," Tony started standing up, slowly followed by Ziva, too. "This is Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo speaking." There was a long silence while Tony listened to the other end of the line. Gibbs and Ziva watched as the frown appearing on his face slowly morphed into a grin. "Thank you, we'll be there." He closed the conversation and turned to the others.

"Well, well, well… It seems that the Geek and the Goth didn't make it home last night."

"What?" Ziva asked worried. She knew that both Abby and McGee had had quite a few drinks last night, too.

"Don't worry, Zeeevah, they're all right. Nothing's broken, well… except for McGee's promise not to get caught again by the police. They're currently enjoying the hospitality of Baltimore PD."

"Baltimore? What the hell were they doing in Baltimore," Gibbs asked. "Damn this headache. All right, DiNozzo, you are with me. Ziva, you go to the crime scene and start processing. We'll catch up with you later."

"All right. I will call Ducky."

"He isn't here. Something about his mother and the Corgis… I didn't really listen. We're stuck with Palmer for today."

Stuck with Palmer, Ziva thought annoyed as Jimmy kept on pulling on her arms. It seemed that SHE was stuck with Palmer.

"Stop it Palmer," she warned him, quickly getting really pissed.

"Don't worry, Ziva, I have everything under control."

"What are you talking about?"

"I have a plan," Palmer stated.

"A plan? Really?"

"Of course. I just have to get my hands free," he said then continued pulling on the restrains.

"And then what?" Ziva asked jerking her hands in the opposite direction annoyed, which only resulted in Palmer bumping into her.

"Well, then I'll try to get that window open so that you can escape then I'll run up the stairs, kick down the door and try to disarm our captor… that is if he's armed. If not, I'll engage him in a fist fight, incapacitate him and wait for back up. I know what you're thinking. What if there are more bad guys? But don't worry, I'll take care of everything, you just have to run and make sure that the police arrive by the time I'm done."

"You are high, Palmer," Ziva stated the obvious.

"I know," he chuckled.

"I really hope that the others do something soon," she told no one in particular. "It is getting colder, too."

"We could get naked to share body heat."

"Or whoever took us could just come and shoot us," Ziva suggested gritting her teeth.

Gibbs was not happy when he and Tony were led to the holding cells of Baltimore PD. Tony, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the situation too much. The grin on his face was impossibly wide as he took in the scene in front of him. Abby was sleeping soundly on one of the cots while McGee was slumped against the wall on another one with head in his hands.

"Look at you, Probie. You make me so proud," Tony exclaimed loudly, aware of the wince that appeared on McGee's face and unaware of the one mirrored on his boss' face.

"Please, Tony," McGee asked in a tired voice as he walked up to the bars.

"Oh, come on now, McGee, it's so exciting. By the way, I saw your new mug shot. It's a winner. I hope you don't mind that I asked for a copy. That'll be…" He was interrupted by Gibbs' head slap.

"Cut it off, DiNozzo," he told him with a stern face then he turned his attention to his younger agent. "What happened?"

"I'm so sorry, boss. I should have handled the situation better. I should ha…"

"I don't care what you should have done, McGee. I want to know what you did."

"Of course," McGee nodded slowly, trying to find the best way to relate the events of the previous night. "We were on our way home when Abby spotted a No Crossing sign and she took it pretty bad."

"Bad?" Tony asked. "Because she couldn't cross the road?"

"Actually, she was worried about Paul," McGee admitted reluctantly.

"Paul?" This time it was Gibbs who raised an eyebrow.

"The man behind the red line," he explained only to be greeted by blank looks. "The white plate with the red circle around it… the man crossed with the red line…" More blank looks. He sighed. "Anyway, she wanted to free him… then an officer saw when Abby practically climbed on the pole trying to get the man free. Of course, it didn't help our case when she explained the officer what she'd been trying to do. So here we are…"

For a couple of seconds Gibbs just stood without saying anything while Tony snickered next to him and McGee looked genuinely embarrassed. Tony's snickering was cut short with a head slap after which he looked at Gibbs flabbergasted.

"Why did I get that?"

"That was for Abby," he explained as he signed for the officer in the room to let the others out. "I can't actually hit her. And maybe next time you won't be so eager to make everybody drunk." With that he walked into the cell and crouched down next to Abby's cot.

"Hey, Abs. Time to wake up," he gently nudged her. She slowly opened her eyes and Gibbs gave her a little smile.

"Hey, Gibbs?" she greeted him uncertainly and winced when she tried to sit up. "Ouch." She held her head.

"Welcome to the club, Abby." Gibbs smirked. "We have Aspirin in the car. Come on." He helped her up and together they walked out.

TBC