"Can I borrow your stapler, Probie?" Tony asked, already reaching out to take it from McGee's desk.
McGee slapped his hand. "Stop taking my stuff!"
"Probie," Tony's brow furrowed. "What the hell?"
"Stop taking my stuff!" McGee sounded hysterical, and Tony wondered if it was because of the extra work they'd been buried under since Kate died, or if it was because Kate was dead. He knew McGee was still having nightmares. There were shadows under his eyes, and he was drinking almost as much coffee as Gibbs.
"You keep taking my stuff! You took the key from me at the crime scene, and you took that letter from me!"
Tony started laughing.
"It isn't funny!" McGee protested.
"It's kind of funny," Tony said. "You're making me sound so noble, Probie. There was a SWAK on the front. If it was for me, I didn't want you to read it. If it was for you, I wanted to tease you mercilessly."
McGee exhaled and smiled apologetically. He handed Tony the stapler.
"What if it was for Gibbs?" McGee asked.
Tony paled. "I didn't think of that."