4th in a Row
by channelD
written for: the 4th of July (American Independence Day)
rating: K
genre: fluff, drabble
characters: the team
words: 894
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"I can't believe this is the fourth year in a row that we've had to work on the 4th of July!" Tim growled.
"It is only the third year in a row for me," said Ziva. "No, wait. I have always worked on the 4th…as well as the 3rd and the 5th," she smirked.
"Ha ha," Tim said without humor. "It's almost a right for Americans, Ziva…to have a day off for picnics and parades and fireworks."
"But essential personnel must always be on duty, yes? Crime does not stop for a picnic."
"I know that, but why us? Why does Gibbs always volunteer our team to work today?"
Tony came in on the tail end of that, bearing a slice of watermelon. "Hey, I just cut open that big sucker I brought in. It's in the break room. Help yourselves…why us? Well, why not us? The 4th is a lousy date night, anyway. It's a day for family and friends…and some of us don't have a lot of them," he added as a mutter.
"Still grousing, McGee?" Gibbs said as he came in. "It's not a bad day to work. Usually pretty quiet for us. And with so few people here, no one will object if we change the station to the fireworks celebration."
"Uh, boss; I know it's only 2 o'clock, but right now TBS is showing Independence Day and…"
"Sure, DiNozzo. Turn it on," Gibbs said with a slight smile. "And I think they're showing 1776 after that."
His team members exchanged glances. Gibbs was almost never in the spirit of anything, other than his boat. Still, who would turn down a nice gesture like that? If they could work while keeping one eye on the TV, it would be good. Plus, they'd still be getting a comp day for having worked on the holiday.
Tony sidled up to McGee. "Still out of sorts, Probie? What's the matter: you missing a weenie roast? A three-legged race? Riding the Geeks Club float in your hometown parade?"
Tim flushed angrily. He'd mostly cheered up by Gibbs' generosity, and now Tony had touched on some of his buttons. Yes, he did have fond memories of the 4th of July from his youth: picnics in the park, or backyard cookouts; games at the community center; a parade, with veterans, soldiers, and school kids…and it wasn't the Geeks Club; it was the Computer Club whose float he rode on…and the fireworks. "I just want to see fireworks," Tim grumbled. "In person. Not on TV."
"Go to Disneyworld," said Gibbs. "They show them every night there."
"Then they're not special," Tim objected. "They should be seldom, to be special."
Ziva touched Tim's arm. "I am sorry you have to work today, McGee," she said kindly. "Next year, you should put in for the day off. And get a front-row seat for the Washington fireworks."
"Maybe I'll do that."
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At dusk, following little work, the two good movies, Tony's watermelon and the cold fried chicken that Gibbs supplied, there was a bit of slack before the fireworks would come on TV. There hadn't been a single call to the tip line, and they had no current cases, so cold cases were lightly perused in hopes of a break.
In the calm, Gibbs was almost startled when his phone rang. "Gibbs…yeah, Wilson. What's up?"
"Well, Agent Gibbs, I guess you're the senior agent on duty now. The tower has just brought in that van involved in Agent Schultz' team's case in Pennsylvania from yesterday…"
"And?"
"Well, sir, you may have heard that they expected it might have explosives on it. So I had my men check it out, and yes sir, it does. Dozens and dozens of roman candles and other fireworks. We can't take the van in that condition into the evidence garage, sir; that's against regulations."
"So take out the fireworks," Gibbs said patiently, and wondered if he was the only one with a brain plugged in.
"Yes sir. Will do so."
"Where is the van now, Wilson?"
"Uh, right in front of the building, sir. Dark maroon vehicle."
Gibbs looked out the window. "I see it." Two men were half-way in the back of the van, while the third, Wilson, the garage head-on-duty, stood by, talking on his cell phone.
"They're in a container, sealed in the van. We're going to need some tools to get the junk out…"
"You do that," said Gibbs, and clicked his phone off. Wilson was a good man, but he could dither forever if allowed an audience. He turned back to the TV where some WWII-era Warner Brothers cartoons were showing.
Suddenly the building was rocked with a clattering BOOM! followed by several smaller explosions. The team raced to the windows. Fireworks were fleeing the van in every direction, some going off right there, and others rising high in the air to detonate in a pastel rainbow of colors.
"Those idiots!" Gibbs roared. "They shouldn't have used electrical tools to get the cases out—" He flew down the stairs, Ziva close behind him.
Tony put a brotherly arm around Tim's shoulder as they remained at the window. "So, you've got your live fireworks display, Probie. Happy now?"
"I am indeed," Tim grinned. "Happy 4th of July!"
- END -