McGee shook his head. He had lost weight and built muscle. He had gained confidence, and was definitely starting to feel more comfortable with himself in general. He was not just some nerd that everyone could push around anymore! He was a man. So why was it that he still had such a soft spot for Abby? She had been trying to get him to go to a concert with her for awhile now, and he had started to feel bad for always finding a reason not to. That was why he was standing in a dark, smoky little club. He had even let Abby dress him, sort of. Tight jeans and a black t-shirt were the closest to "goth" as he was willing to go. She'd even talked him into wearing one of her bracelets. A strobe light was flashing, making him a little bit nauseous. "Smiling Death," Abby's newest favorite band, was screaming into the microphones. There was a drink in each of his hands because, as Abby had said, she "couldn't set her drink down! What if someone tried to drug it?" So he followed her around the dance floor, like a puppy, while she spun and danced and jumped around with strangers.

"Abs! Abb-ee!" He tried to yell over to her, but she couldn't hear him over the noise. The combination of the music and the lights and the smell were all starting to get to him. He was about to go grab Abby and tell her it was time to leave when a woman bumped into him.

"Oh hey, sorry. Is that your friend over there? She really looks like she's having a good time, huh?" The woman smiled and kept dancing right along. He watched Abby for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at her infectious grin and childlike exuberance. Abby worked hard all week, and it had been a long week. She deserved to have some fun, right? He slammed the last of his beer, and then the rest of Abby's before tossing the bottles on the bar and pushing his way through the crowd to join her.

Ziva lay on her back, panting and laughing at the same time. The neighbors would really be upset this time. No one had ever accused her of being quiet, and she knew that their bedroom was on the other side of the wall from hers. Damon laughed too, knowing full well what she was thinking. They had started in the living room, clothes thrown everywhere. From the couch to the wall in the hallway and finally to the bedroom. The lady next door gave him dirty looks whenever he saw her. He motioned for Ziva to turn over, and they laid like that for a little while, with him spooned against her back. His hand made lazy circles across her thigh and she smiled, content.

Who else could she do this sort of thing with? Ziva wondered. Some one she cared enough about to make it not awkward, but wouldn't have to have long, serious talks with or decide "where this was going." Who wouldn't be demanding of her time. Tony? She didn't think they could ever do anything casual. There was too much history there, too many feelings. She trusted him with her life, to have her back, everyday. That would be too complicated. Besides, he talked too much. McGee was good looking enough, but they had worked together so long now, he was more like a brother than someone she might want to sleep with. Palmer? Engaged. Ducky? Even if he'd been a little younger, he fell into the same category as McGee… almost family. Besides, talk about talking too much. Gibbs? That was just… disturbing. Like thinking about sleeping with Eli, or Ari if he was still alive. She cringed and shook her head a little, why was she thinking about all these other men in her life while she was laying in the arms of this one? She lifted Damon's hand up to her face and kissed his palm. He placed a kiss somewhere in her hair and rolled over, so they were laying back to back. Cuddling was great for a little while, but they were both used to sleeping alone. No one wants to sleep with someone else's hot breath all down your neck. Ziva smiled and snuggled down into the blankets. Perfect.

Gibbs sat on a stool in his basement, taking a swig from a bottle he'd pulled out from under the worktable. The basement was fairly empty, his latest boat had been finished and given to a buddy of his who loved sailing. People kept telling him that he should sell his boats, he put so much time and work into them, but he just couldn't do it. If he was a more sentimental man, he'd say it was because boat building was a labor of love. But he was Gibbs, so he just told them to mind their own business.

Whenever a boat was finished, he'd sit down there for a little while, as if he was trying to decide what his next project should be. Which was ridiculous, because it was always a boat. But that was part of his process. He'd wait a week or so, as if he was deciding, and then he'd start building. The last boat had been gone almost two weeks; he decided that tomorrow was the day to go buy some wood.

A pair of long, feminine legs appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Jethro?" She called down curiously.

"Down here." His newest, beautiful, redheaded lady friend headed down in nothing but one of his seemingly endless supply of NIS t-shirts and a pair of boxers.

"What are you doing down here?" She picked up some of his tools, looking them over before laying them down. "What's all this?"

"They're tools. Woodworking tools. I was just coming back up to bed."

"What are they for?"

"For building with wood, Lisa." He raised an eyebrow at her and laughed when she scowled at him. "I build boats."

"Right here, in the basement? But how do you get them out when you're through?" He smiled and gave the slightest shrug. She shook her head. He was so impossible sometimes. She looked at the two pictures he had tacked up on the wall by his tools. One was of a larger group of people, one was of two women, smiling with an arm around each other.

"Who's this?" She asked, trying to keep the hint of jealousy from her voice. He laughed again.

"That's my team. Dinozzo, McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and Palmer. And Ziva and Abby in the other one." The pictures were from the small party they'd had to celebrate Ziva's becoming an American. Abby had tacked them up right in front of him, giving him a defiant look. She'd laid the guilt on him so hard for having missed Ziva's ceremony that he hadn't had the heart to tell her to take them down. Maybe he was getting sentimental in his old age.

"Do you all work well together?" Lisa asked, more curious now than jealous. They all looked so… different.

"Did you ever have a dog?" She raised an eyebrow, wondering where he was going. "You work hard and you get them trained just the way you want. You can take them for a walk without a leash. They stay off the furniture, don't beg, and only bark at strangers. Sure, they may still pee a little in the house when they get excited, but for the most part they're well behaved. I have a whole team of puppies, and I'm too old to start breaking any new ones in."

Lisa laughed and took his bottle away from him, setting it on the counter.

"Sounds like they've got a good teacher." That famous Gibbs smirk was back on his face, and she pulled him toward the stairs. She knew one thing he wasn't too old to do.