Gibbs grabbed his gear out of the trunk, sighing as he heard a high pitched squeal coming from behind him. His team; a group of highly trained federal agents, one of whom was a Mossad liaison, was having a snowball fight. Tony ducked, letting a large clump of white miss his head by inches. He returned fire on McGee, who was hit head on. Gibbs shook his head "Hey!" he barked, "This is a crime scene, remember?" while he understood the infectiousness of the holiday spirit, now was not the time.

McGee smacked Tony one last time, "You started it." he muttered under his breath

Gibbs rolled his eyes, smacking both of them, "I'm finishing it. What took you so long?" he asked Tony

Tony took a second to rethink his answer, seeing the look Ziva was giving him, "Got lost, boss; some of the roads were closed. You know, snow packs." he explained, "That and Probie's navigational skills, way to go, McWeeblos."

"I told you, this address isn't on the map," McGee defended, "This place doesn't exist!" he looked around the heavily wooded lake. The entire landscape was encased in white. Icicles hung from the arbors above, framing the frozen lake below. It would have been a beautiful sight if not for the crumpled remains of a Jeep against a tree trunk nearby.

"That is because in about three months, all of this will be underwater," Ziva told him knowingly, "Look around, all of the trunks disappear beneath the ice. This area is a marsh, and happens to be frozen solid. There is no road here, or any man made structure. That is why your map says it does not exist."

Tony walked out, carefully stepping along the edges of the lake, "You sure this is safe?"

"It'll all thaw out before we can finish this up if you don't hurry up. Its as safe now as it's likely to get," Gibbs said, tapping at the ice, "Be careful."

"If you say so..." Tony continued to skirt the edge of the water, not trusting Gibbs quite enough to risk it. He continued to tip-toe toward the vehicle, clinging to the trees, just in case, "Easy, easy..." a loud sneeze startled him, making him jump, "Jeez, Ziva!" he glared at her, "You trying to kill me?"

She smirked, blowing her nose on a handkerchief, "I am sorry, Tony. Do my bodily functions bother you?"

"You bother me, Ziva." he told her

McGee rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for more of their antics, "Can we just get this done and over with?" he was ready for the holiday break six months ago. Now that it was approaching, it seemed to take longer and longer to finally come.

"DiNozzo, sketch. McGee, bag 'n' tag." Gibbs ordered, "Ziva, you're waiting in the car. I will not have you throwing up all over my crime scene."

Ziva protested, "I just sneezed, Gibbs! I am not throwing up, and will not contaminate your crime scene. Do you not think I am capable of keeping myself under control?" she was exasperated, losing the argument before it started. She stared defiantly at him, trying to maintain her composure.

Gibbs whispered in her ear, "Do you think I'm getting that old, Ziva? I can smell the puke, you're pale as death, and from the looks of it, you can barely stand. Wait in the car, turn on the heater, and listen to some music. We'll be done quick."

Giving a defeated sigh, she returned to the car, which was thankfully still warm. She kept the radio off, knowing all she would be able to hear would be annoying Christmas Carols. The started right after Thanksgiving, and hadn't stopped since. She sunk back in the seat, grateful for the warm, dry air blowing into the car. Ducky tapped on the window, startling her a little, "Are you alright, dear?" he opened the door, sitting in the seat beside her, "I don't suppose you're doing very well, or Jethro wouldn't have you in here instead of working the scene." he felt her brow, confirming his suspicions, "I must say, I think he made a wise choice."

"He usually does," Ziva sighed, "That is what makes him so irritating!"

Ducky chuckled, his laugh warming her in spite of the cold air, "I couldn't agree with you more, my dear!" he handed her a cough drop, "That will help your throat, if only temporarily. Not the most tasty piece of candy you'll ever eat, but they do help"

"Thank you," she gazed out the window, watching the team work. McGee was talking to Gibbs, flipping through his notes. She couldn't tell what he was saying, but based on the slap she saw Gibbs give him, it wasn't important. "I think they are nearly done." she noted, watching them pack things up

"Yes, Jethro said the body was pinned in such a manner that I can't do anything until we get the car back with us," he looked up the ridge, seeing a tow truck approaching, "Ah, right on time! We'll be back before you know it," he assured her, "Then you can get some rest, and hopefully be able to enjoy your holidays."

She smiled, "I hope so," her eyes searched the scene again, feeling that something was amiss. Beside her, a cell phone began to ring. It was Tony's; he must have left it behind. She chose not to answer it, recognizing the number as from Leonardi's Pizza, probably telling him his order for lunch was ready, "Ducky, where is Tony?" she looked over at the Jeep, noticing Tony's absence

He looked around, "I don't know. Curious, where did the boy get to?"

Ziva got out, looking in all directions, "Tony?" she called

Ducky got out as well, "Ziva, don't worry, I'm sure he's around somewhere. Get back inside where its warm," he urged, "I don't want you to catch your death of pneumonia!"

She ignored Ducky's concerns, walking up to Gibbs. "Didn't I tell you to wait in the car?" he asked, not angry as much as he was annoyed that she disobeyed a direct order

"Yes." she told him, not caring "Gibbs, where is Tony?" she held up his phone, he left it in the car, and someone called." she looked around, her concern growing with each passing minute

He looked over at the Jeep, "DiNozzo?" he called, "Tony, get over here!" Ziva sighed in exasperation. They were wasting time. She ran off toward the Jeep, "David, get back here!"

Ziva cursed under her breath, not finding him. The only sign she could find was his sketch pad near the back bumper. She flipped through his sketches. He was a good artist, and had an eye for detail. Every sketch was precise, detailed, and lifelike. Deciding she'd wasted too much time, she threw the pad to the ground. Through the ice under her feet, she saw something moving below the glacial waters.

"Tony!" she called, feeling stupid for having done so. There was no way he could hear her. She circled the Jeep, trying to find the opening in the ice. The hole was a few feet from where she'd found his sketch pad. Without thinking, she dove down into the icy water.