AN: Sorry for the long gap between updates, hopefully it was worth the wait. Please excuse my butchering of the English language, I finished this chapter at four am, when I had a fever of 103, so I wasn't in the best state of mind.

Ziva tiredly sat up, debating with herself whether or not to get up. As much as she wanted to get up and do something, her body seemed to be protesting anything other than sleep. She found her cell phone under her pillow, and checked the time. Panicking a bit, she hauled herself out of bed. It was already past noon; she'd never slept in that late before.

She winced as her feet touched the icy hardwood floors beneath her. Deciding she would get dressed later, she ran downstairs in her pajamas. Much to her surprise, she nearly ran into Gibbs on the landing, "I was just about to come looking for you. Sleep okay?" he asked

"Yes, but a bit longer than I had expected," she told him, brushing his hand away as he felt her brow, "Yes, I know I have a fever. I will take something later."

"Okay," Gibbs walked down the hall to the guest room, knocking loudly on the door, "DiNozzo! Its after noon already, get up!" he turned to Ziva, "Can you get him up?" he knew full well that she could, but he figured she would enjoy rousting Tony from his sleep

"With pleasure, Gibbs!" she grinned

Ziva walked in silently, not even the creaky wooden boards gave away her presence. Her stealth was a trait she'd always been thankful for. She lingered in the shadows, crouching down beside Tony's bed. He had a small circle of drool on his pillow, growing larger as he snored. "Disgusting!"

"Tony, wake up..." she murmured in a sing-song voice, "Come on, Tony...its Christmas!"

Tony lifted one eyelid, "Chrismus?" he grumbled, his speech slurred from fatigue

"Christmas Eve, technically," she told him, pulling the covers off of him, "It is already past noon, you need to get up."

He groaned like a little kid not wanting to go to school, covering his head with his pillow, "Five more minutes...I was up most of the night because someone was sick." he complained, curling up into a ball for warmth, now that she'd taken his blankets

"I do not remember asking for your help," she took his pillow as well, leaving him totally exposed on the bed, "Gibbs said it is time to get up, one way or another you will be getting up. Do not make me force you!" she would have sounded a bit more intimidating if she weren't congested, making her voice weak and nasally, and pale as death.

"What are you going to do, sneeze on me?" he finally sat up, stretching, "I fear no phlegm! And whether you asked for it or not, you needed it." he knew she wouldn't admit it, but her illness was having a profound effect on her both physically and mentally, "Come on, do you really expect me to feel threatened by you? You look like you can barely stand."

"No, but I will play Abby's Christmas CD," she threatened, "The one where all of the songs are twice as fast as they are normally, and the voices are an octave higher?" she knew that one would work

"You wouldn't!" Tony had heard more than enough of Abby's chipmunk songs to last for a whole year, "No one's that cruel!"

"I am," she glared menacingly, "Now come, breakfast is ready."

Tony followed Ziva into the kitchen, "So, what's for breakfast?"

Gibbs was at the stove, dishing up food, "It was oatmeal. But breakfast was four hours ago. Lunch is leek and potato soup." he offered them each a bowl, "Ziva, you take anything for that fever yet?"

"Yes," she lied, sipping at the soup

"Don't lie to me, David," he handed her the thermometer. Nothing got past him, and it only aggravated him when people tried, "Take your temperature, or I'll have you take it the baby way."

She turned to Tony, "What exactly is the 'baby way'?"

Tony spat out his mouthful of soup, "Trust me, you don't want to know. Just take it!"

Reluctantly she took it, with Gibbs watching her the whole time to make sure she didn't try anything. She handed it to him after a minute, "One-oh-five," he sighed, shaking it back down, "Yeah, you're definitely sick."

"Yes, but I have been eating soup! You just took it off the stove, it is still very hot," she insisted, "That is not accurate!"

"Bed, Ziva!" Gibbs ordered, "I'll bring you up medicine and soup. Tony, call Ducky. Tell him the party's off, and Ziva's got a high fever."

Ziva sat up in bed, completely miserable. Not only did Gibbs cancel the festivities, but it was all her fault. She knew for a fact that Abby would be disappointed. She'd been looking forward to this since Halloween, and the others had been looking forward to it for weeks.

"Ziva?" Ducky poked his head in, "Are you alright? Jethro said your fever is up to a hundred and five degrees." he sat down on the bed beside her, "If it does not go down, you may be spending the holidays in the hospital."

"I know," she sighed, "Perhaps that would be best. Gibbs can still have his party, and everyone can still come over. I honestly do not understand Christmas, nor do I celebrate it, do I would not be missing out on much."

"Don't think like that!" he scolded gently, "In spite of what you may be feeling right now, we do consider you to be important. The others will understand if you aren't doing well, and will probably be grateful that it was called off; I don't think any of them want to catch this nasty bug."

She looked at him, a bit confused, "There is a bug involved? Is that anything like a parasite?"

"No, no," he laughed, "a bug is a generic term for an illness. I don't know why they call it that, but it seems to have stuck over the years." he handed her a thermometer, "Here, let's see where we're at."

The area under her tongue was sore from having taken her temperature so many times, but she took it anyway, "There. Is that any better?"

"A hundred even is still a fever," he told her, feeling sorry for having to disappoint her, "Let me make you a deal. If you get some rest, and your fever goes back down, I will ask Jethro to revoke his cancellation of the party. But," he continued, "If you don't improve by tomorrow I will drive you to the hospital myself. Do we have an agreement?" he extended his hand, which she shook in agreement, "Good. Now get some sleep."

"How is it that I am the only one sick?" she whined. Sickness tended to bring out the worst in her. She didn't like it, and tried everything within her power to control it. But every time she got sick, without fail, she would become whinny and needy. "I am sorry, Ducky. I do not mean to be so...witchy?"

"Don't worry, you're not," he sighed, not bothering to correct her, "Tony is running a bit of a temperature, and of course, he blames you. He told me you licked him the other day. Now you wouldn't do such a thing, would you?" he smiled, already knowing the answer, "I'm sure he deserved it."

She nodded, feeling a bit bad for having gotten Tony sick. Especially since his bout with the plague, even a little cold could cause some serious fallout. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes, in good time."

Tony peered around the corner, checking to make sure Gibbs wasn't around. Probably working on the boat, down in the basement. It was a lot harder to tell if he was down there or not considering he didn't use any noisy power tools; he worked only with his hands.

Willing to take the risk, he ran up the stairs to Ziva's room. "Hey, Ziva?" he knocked on the door, "Can you let me in? I need to talk to you."

Ducky opened the door, "Hello, Tony. You can go on in, she's still awake in spite of my recommendations."

"Hi," he sat down on the bed next to her, "I've got a cold. I. Blame. You." he told her in a cold but light-hearted teasing manner

"I am sorry," she suddenly took great interest in her sheets, rubbing them nervously between her fingers. "It is not something I have control of."

"Hey," he put a hand on her shoulder, "Its not like you tried to. Besides, I had a feeling I'd catch it sooner or later." he had come in to check on her, maybe tease her a bit, but not to make her feel bad. She was already miserable enough without him adding to her stress, "Hey, since we're both already sick, so I don't have to worry about catching it from you, do you wanna go downstairs and watch a movie?"

She rolled her eyes, "What is it with you and movies?" she conceded, knowing if she didn't watch it with him he'd just give her a full synopsis, including the director's commentary after he watched it, "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"A holiday classic," he told her merrily, "Actually, there are a lot of those. Its a Wonderful Life, great film. Christmas classic. You'd like it. Frank Capra's masterpiece. My mom and I would stay up every Christmas Eve, and watch it together. I could never last all the way through. When I'd wake up on the couch the next morning, I'd have presents waiting." he smiled, remembering one of the few fond memories of his childhood, "Oh, there's How the Grinch Stole Christmas! Another good one. Its only like twenty minutes. Its a cartoon though, they made a live action one that sucked; not Jim Carry's finest moment. The weird thing is, Boris Karlov narrates; he was Dracula in the classic..."

Ziva sat back, mostly tuning him out, "Are we going to watch these, or are you just going to tell me every line, allusion, and recount every insignificant second until I am forced to kill you?" she found her knife under her pillow, and used it to file her nails, knowing it would unnerve him

"Let's watch!"