Tony's bored, Ziva's, mad, and Tim is in rare form. Just a fun little story about April Fool's Day. Gibbs will appear in later chapters, as will Abby and Ducky. No swearing, pairings, or ships. Please read and review, and enjoy!

The boredom was unbearable. Anthony DiNozzo had never been good at sitting still, or sitting in general. Just because he had a computer in front of him with dozens of pages of evidence reports to go over didn't make it any easier for his attention span to hang in there. Roughly a quarter of the way through half-heartedly skimming the reports, Tony dropped his head on his desk, letting it bounce with a loud, "Thud, thud, thud."

Timothy McGee, who had been feverishly typing, afforded his colleague only a sidelong glance. To ask a question of any type would, no doubt, invite a lengthy, detailed, and rambling complaint. There was a time a few years ago when his desperate attempts to be one of the team would have won out, and he would have asked the question. He was much wiser now to the ways of DiNozzo, so he simply shook his head and went back to typing.

"Aaahhhhh!" Tony groaned, rolling his head from side to side on his desk.

Tim visibly struggled with his decision before finally taking the bait. "Alright, Tony. What?"

Tony didn't bother lifting his head from the desktop. "I can't take it anymore! It's been four days! Four days since we've worked a case!"

"Yeeess," Tim said slowly, "But it's given us a chance to catch up on some stuff. I kind of like the down time every now and then. It's relaxing."

DiNozzo raised his head to eye the younger agent carefully. "Yeah, okay, McBuddha. What do you think Ziva and the bossman are doing? They haven't been here all morning."

"Gibbs has been in MTAC with the director and SecNac for a couple of hours now. And I heard Ziva say she was going to help Abby with inventory."

"Great. Ziva gets to do inventory and I get . . . eye strain."

"But you hate inventory, Tony" McGee pointed out.

Tony's reply was loud and sharp. "Yeah, well, I hate this more!" After a short pause, Tony continued. "We have to get a case, probie. We could make one up." In his best voice-over impression, he said, "The case of the bored DiNozzo." Then, as if a light bulb had been switched on, Tim saw a very familiar expression come across Tony's face.

"Tony," McGee said in his best threatening voice, "What are you doing?"

The senior field agent was enthusiastically rummaging in the bottom drawer of his desk, emerging with an almost full tube of toothpaste, and a triumphant smile on his face. "We used to do this all the time to each other in Baltimore. Classic," he explained as he globbed as much toothpaste as would stick to the earpiece of Ziva's desk phone.

"Like she won't notice that," Tim said with skepticism.

"That's why we have a diversion, McStick-in-the-mud. Something simple." Tony looked around quickly, his eyes falling on a half dozen boxes of printer paper in front of the file cabinet. Wasting no time, he stacked 4 boxes atop the desk, leaving the last two to occupy the chair.

"She's gonna kill you," McGee prophesied.

"This is gonna be so great!" Tony could barely contain his excitement.

For the next hour Tony fidgeted with anticipation. When the Mossad officer finally emerged from the elevator, Tim thought he heard Tony giggle like a little girl.

Seeing the boxes, Ziva immediately turned to DiNozzo. "Who put these here?" she asked, obviously annoyed.

Tony put on his best poker face. "Uh, I don't know, Zeeeeva. They've been there for awhile now."

"They were not there when I came in this morning. Surely you two saw who did this!"

"Nope, sorry," Tony finished, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. Feeling for the speed dial button to Zivas desk, he held the button for a full count of three. He just couldn't help the gleeful smile from breaking across his face when the phone on her desk started ringing. Grabbing for it quickly, she stuck the receiver to her ear, instantly filling it with mint flavored paste. Her customary phone greeting was cut short as she realized what had happened. Clearly seeing the storm clouds building, McGee dropped his head, intensely studying the screen of his computer.

Tony, in stark contrast, let loose a deafening laugh, holding his stomach while he barely held himself in his chair through the fit of laughter. Ziva turned toward the senior field agent, murder glinting in her dark eyes.

"April Fools!" Tony called out between gut busting howls.

Ziva stood motionless for a moment, clearly debating on which would be an appropriate way to kill the annoying Italian man. Then, without saying a word, she turned and left, making a b-line for the woman's bathroom.

"Didn't I tell you it was gonna be great, Probie? Wasn't it great? Oh, that was great!" Tony managed to say once his laughter had sufficiently subsided.

"You know she won't just let this go," McGee pointed out.

Tony seemed to ponder that for a moment, chewing on the inside corner of his lip. "No, I suppose not." As he began to think harder, he couldn't help but solicit his teammate's opinion. "What do you think she'll do?"

McGee was rather enjoying watching the senior field agent squirm, and couldn't hold back an amused smile. "Gee, I don't know, Tony. She might give you coffee that turns your teeth blue again."

Tony pulled his lips tight against his teeth, remembering. "Oh yeah. Took me three days to get that stuff off."

"Or she could . . ." Tim stopped abruptly, a plan slowly beginning to form in his mind.

"Could what, Probie?"

"Nothing."

Tony eyed the younger man suspiciously. He was about to say something when McGee inexplicably up and left the bullpen. Tony shrugged and mentally filed away the witty retort he had prepared, to be used for another time.

Special Agent Timothy McGee wasn't particular known for his cunning. Everyone saw the youngest member of Team Gibbs as mostly a nerd- an assumption that was only reinforced when his co-workers discovered his pen name, Thom E. Gemcity, and the series of crime novels he had successfully authored. But sometimes, just every once in awhile, Tim's more devious side sprang to the forefront without warning, and he just couldn't help himself. The mischievous smile that twitched at the corners of his lips as he waited outside the woman's restroom was something not many people had seen.

When Ziva had finally cleared the worst of the cursed toothpaste from her ear canal, she was more than a little surprised to see McGee waiting for her just outside he door.

"Ziva," Tim began almost nervously. "I just want you to know that it wasn't my idea."

Ziva eyed him intensely. "I know, McGee."

"But if you want, I could help you get back at Tony."

"I am listening."