A/N: A short oneshot written between 1 - 3 on Christmas morning (bearing in mind that half of that time was spent trying to find a new pen). Just a little bit of fluff... typed up on my new laptop! Enjoy!

'Tis the Season....

He sat there wearily, staring, the lazy flicking of the paper ball, back and forth from one hand to another, hypnotic to his exhausted mind. Eyeing the constant motion of the scrunched-up paper note, he stifled a yawn, covering his mouth absently with his free hand, the other focused on the task of holding his head in an upright position. A half-eaten sandwich lay in front of him, along with an almost empty cup of coffee, which had obviously not done the job that it was supposed to. So, despite all of his good intentions (not to mention the ever-present fear of Gibbs), it was beyond his control as his eyes began to droop and his body began to slump.

Wham.

Jerking awake with a start, his mind - which had been so close to the lack of consciousness that it had for so long been craving - struggled to make sense of what was going on. Until, of course, his weary eyes rested on the neatly screwed-up piece of paper, now lying innocently before him, on top of several (probably important) pieces of paperwork. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the culprit grinning innocently at him. Sighing deeply he didn't bother to answer, knowing that it would be fruitless. Instead, he sat up a bit straighter, tried to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, and looked around him.

Gibbs' desk was empty, as it had been (he realized with mild shock) for quite a while now. What could he possibly be doing in the Director's Office for that long? Unless… his mind suppressed the thought. It was common knowledge that Gibbs and Director Shepard had a past together. He didn't want to know what they were doing.

Ziva was at her desk, working as diligently as ever, and Tony was being his usual immature self, leering at her every now and again. In fact, if it wasn't for the piles of tinsel, miniature trees on (almost) every desk and other festive decorations, a casual observer would have thought that it was just like any other day.

But, of course, there were a few subtle differences. Tony, for example, had taken to lurking in the few doorways which contained mistletoe, pouncing on any attractive and unsuspecting female staff who had walked through (even Ziva, on one occasion) - he had, as a result, received quite a few slaps from women who didn't appreciate his approaches (although, as he had cheerfully pointed out to his colleagues, this was a minority.) In comparison, Ziva had spent a lot of her time trying to understand these, what she considered strange, American customs, and yet had still managed to nearly complete all of her work before the actual day. She also had a date, from what he had gathered, something that Tony had looked very smug about.

He'd spent a lot of time trying to figure out what had taken her so long to realize that they were perfect for each other.

Sighing heavily, he once again felt his mind being drawn to the blissfulness that was sleep. Thanks to the festive season and neighbors that were all too keen to celebrate (with their very large, and hence very loud, music player) he had, for several nights, received very little sleep. He was looking forward to visiting his family for Christmas and a few days on either side. As they lived in the countryside, there would be guaranteed peace and quiet, and he could recover before it was time to go back to work.

Glancing around, he saw that Ziva had finished and was staring across the bullpen at Tony with a sly smile that he returned. Rolling his eyes, he decided that he wasn't needed there, and that if he didn't move about soon he was at serious risk of falling asleep on the job. Pushing himself up from his desk, he made his way to the elevator, stepped inside, and pressed the 'down' button.

The doors closed.

---

Stepping out he walked into a wall of noise classified, by few, as music. Walking through the automatic doors, he peered around the various machines that hummed quietly to themselves. Christmas was evident here too, although the tinsel - and even the mini tree in the one corner with silver baubles - were black. Looking around, he almost had a heart attack as he was grabbed from behind.

"Timmy! You came to visit me!" He could hear her smile before he even saw it, and returned her hug, although not quite as enthusiastically. "Are you alright?" He said nothing.

"McGee!" His eyes flickered.

"Sorry Abbs. The people upstairs were at it with their music again all last night." She hugged him sympathetically.

"Awww… want some of my cafpow?" He smiled, but shook his head. "Oh well, come and see what I found in the Woodbridge case!" She bounded over to one of her computers, bringing to his mind the image of a Duracell bunny, completely unaware of the grin that had lit up his face as, suddenly, he wasn't so tired anymore. Abby had her cafpows, but he had Abby.

And that was all that he needed.