A/N: Hey, guys! Welcome to my newest story! This one's going to be a multi-chapter one, and my first attempt in a long time at writing in first person POV. (Ziva's, to be exact). Any feedback/comments would be awesome. This will eventually be a Tiva fic, because you know it should totally happen. Today is officially the start of my winter break, so hopefully, I can get to writing and updating sooner. I'm also working on another fic right now for another fandom, so that might interfere somewhat and be the cause of any delays (that or laziness - whichever). Anyways, please enjoy and review - and happy holidays to everyone!

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:: Chapter 1 - Bright Yellow Camera ::

In Petty Officer Carmichael's house, we found a small pup in a stove. It was enough to horrify us all, but thankfully, the stove had not been on. Unfortunately, the pup was on the verge of death. Petty Officer Carmichael had psychological problems (that much we knew), but this encounter dragged forth a movie reference from Tony: Fatal Attraction. He endured two head-slaps from Gibbs before a cold glare from him finally shut him up. McGee was relieved because he always hated that movie when he was younger, and although I was relieved as well, I kind of wanted him to continue talking, just so I could hear his voice.

It was late at night and I was driving home from NCIS, after wrapping up our case. The car ride home was pretty lonely and I wished that Tony was there with me, giving me something to either laugh or talk about. I would have preferred to hear about Fatal Attraction than to listen to the deafening silence that filled my car. When I finally arrived at my house, I was almost ready to hit the sack, but something bright caught my eye when I turned the light switch on.

On the kitchen counter was a bright yellow camera. It was a Nikon brand. I had to do a double take because as soon as I saw that camera there, I knew something had to be off. I didn't own a bright yellow Nikon camera.

I took the camera anyway and turned it on. At first, I had a bad feeling about it, but as I began to scroll through the pictures, I felt myself begin to relax. This had to be some kind of prank, or even a cry for (more) attention from Tony. There were only eight pictures in the camera, but they were of McGee, Abby, and Gibbs.

Tony definitely had to have done this. I don't know how or when he snuck into my house to put one measly yellow camera in my kitchen counter, but I know he did. Five of the pictures were of McGee, seemingly stuck to his chair, as though he had been glued to it, and him trying to get up. One of them was of Gibbs drinking from a tall, rainbow-colored coffee cup. In all the years I have worked at NCIS, I have never seen him with a rainbow-colored coffee cup. And the last two pictures were of Abby, sleeping on a small air mattress in her lab with her stuffed farting hippo tucked under her head, and a ridiculously bright red pair of pajamas on.

Pretty pointless, I thought, that Tony would want to sneak into my house to leave behind a camera with these kinds of pictures. If Gibbs found out about the colorful coffee thing, he was going to be so dead. I chuckled to myself at the thought and briefly flipped through the pictures again. I brought the camera with me to bed, deciding that I could show these pictures to everyone tomorrow morning.

The next morning, I walked into the bullpen at NCIS, and not too long after the little ding from the elevator sounded and its doors closed, I heard McGee calling for me.

"Ziva!" he called, sounding frantic. "Ziva, help me!"

I dumped my bag next to my desk chair and saw Tony with a smile on his face at his desk, just typing away. McGee was squirming in his chair, and I was not all too sure of what he was doing, or trying to do. "What are you doing, McGee?" I asked him.

"Tony put superglue on my chair and now I'm stuck!" he protested furiously, which only made Tony chuckle to himself more.

I felt my heart skip a beat, but I ignored it. "Tony…" I groaned.

"Come on," Tony laughed, flashing his infamous toothy smile. "You have to admit, it's kind of epic."

"It's not epic, Tony!" McGee shot back. "It's gonna ruin my pants!"

Tony laughed again, and I spent about twenty minutes trying to unglue McGee from his chair. When I was finally able to get him off – and, indeed, his pants were ruined – he was in a very annoyed mood. Of course, Tony only laughed at his misery. I rolled my eyes, but when I turned away from McGee, I couldn't help but laugh a little myself.

"Tony, how many times are you going to glue poor McGee to his chair?" I asked him as I took a seat at my desk and started up my computer.

He gave me a confused look. "What are you talking about? This is the first time I've ever glued McLoser to his chair," he said.

Before I could protest that I had any evidence that this was not the first time he had done such a thing, Gibbs came into the bullpen, a rainbow-colored coffee cup in his hands. "It's true, Ziva," he said. "This is the first time DiNozzo has glued McGee to his chair. I would have remembered otherwise."

"Me, too," McGee grumbled.

Again, I was about to protest but I was cut off by McGee, who was then interrupted by Tony. "Does anyone have any extra pants…?"

"Boss?" Tony said.

Gibbs looked up at him as he set his coffee cup down.

"Why do you have a colorful coffee cup in your hands?"

"It's a Christmas thing at the coffee shop, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied shortly. "They're using rainbow colored coffee cups for the holidays."

"Why don't they just use Christmas colors instead of using rainbow colors?" Tony asked rhetorically.

Gibbs just gave him a stare that made Tony cower away and mutter to himself, "Holiday thing. Right."

"Guys…." McGee piped up, uncertainly. "Anyone have any extra pants?"

Gibbs ignored him and Tony just gave him a sly smile, but neither one of them answered his question. "Abby might have some," I said. "Maybe even Ducky or Palmer."

"Could you come with me please?" he asked as his face turned a bright red.

I giggled half-heartedly. "Sure." He stood up and I followed him out. A large hole in the back of his pants was visible and I couldn't stop myself from smirking and saying, "Nice boxers, McGee."

"Shut up," he growled lowly as we stepped into the elevator.

We arrived at Abby's lab. To my growing horror, she was wearing a bright red pair of pajamas. An air mattress had been inflated, making her lab seem smaller than usual. Her favorite stuffed animal was on her air mattress. What the hell was going on here? I frowned, but neither one of them seemed to catch it.

"Hey, guys!" Abby greeted us brightly. "I'm sorry for the mess. I slept here last night. What can I do for you?"

Before I could answer, McGee did so for me, "Tony glued me to my chair. Ziva helped me to get out, but now my pants are ruined. Would you happen to have any extra pair of pants that I could use?"

"Sure!" Abby replied as she jumped off to find an extra pair of pants, her pigtails, messy as they were from sleep, bouncing along with her. She found him a pair of pants and handed it to him. McGee took them and gave it a good look.

"These are mine," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know," she smiled.

"Why do you have my pants?"

"You left 'em here one time."

I really did not want to hear anymore after that.

"And you kept them?"

"Well, I wasn't going to throw them away!" Abby protested. "Besides, they just came in handy for you, didn't they?" She smiled, and I was thinking that perhaps it was still too early to be that happy.

McGee shook his head, although it looked like it was mostly to himself. "Uhh... thanks, Abby."

"You're welcome, McGee!" she chirped happily.

With that, we both left her lab, but I headed off to the bullpen, while McGee went to the bathroom to change his pants. The second I got there, Gibbs announced that there was another dead petty officer and told us to grab our gear. I complied with his orders, but my mind was beginning to reel with thoughts of confusion and my stomach began to churn. I must have been wearing a distraught look on my face, because when I grabbed my things and turned around, I bumped right into Gibbs.

"You okay?" he asked me concernedly.

"Why would anything be wrong, Gibbs?" I countered, but avoided the question.

"You look like something's on your mind," he said.

"I would be surprised if nothing was."

He glared at me for a few more seconds, as though he was trying to read me like an open book. I gave him no hints that something was bothering me or that I felt a little disturbed at the moment. He eventually moved away and Tony and I followed him out. Hopefully, McGee would find out that we were headed to a crime scene.

As we walked out, I could feel Tony's eyes practically boring into the back of my head. I probably would not have minded him looking at me, but at this moment, it was uncomfortable. As we headed to the NCIS van, I tried my best to ignore the weird feeling at the pit of my stomach that told me that something was off.

If Tony has ever glued McGee to his chair in the show, I'm sorry for that. Pretend that, for the sake of this fic, he never did.
What did you guys think? Let me know! Reviews are always welcome!