(A/N: Loosely set during "Ships in the Night." A series of . . . somethings . . . about a time when the team is pulling an all-nighter.)

"I need coffee," groaned Tony.

"Didn't we ask McGee to run and get coffee almost ten minutes ago?" wondered Ziva, yawning widely.

"Twenty minutes," Tony corrected.

"You don't think he tried to drive to the coffee shop, did he?" worried Ziva. "He could have passed out and crashed."

"No! Now we'll never get coffee," moaned Tony.

Ziva glared.

"I mean, I'll go look for him," he added, jumping up. He didn't have to go far. The elevator doors opened to reveal McGee slumped in a corner of the tiny compartment, slumbering peacefully. When the doors dinged, McGee jumped.

"Gah! Are we on the first floor yet?" He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Tony? What are you doing?"

"Waking you up, McGeek. You fell asleep on the floor of the elevator. You went for coffee a half hour ago."



"Come on! No sleeping at work!" Gibbs cried, surveying his dozing team.

"It's—" yawn "—nine o'clock. In the morning," Tony muttered.

"Exactly. It's not that early."

"It's early if you didn't go home last night!" snarled Ziva under her breath.

"Everyone needs to sleep at their desk once in their life. It's a life experience. You can rest when you're dead," said Gibbs briskly.

"We didn't sleep at our desks. We. Didn't. SLEEP!" snapped McGee, lifting his head from the file he had been using as a pillow.

"Hmm. Alright. One nap. Twenty minutes."

Their heads made three identical thuds as they hit their desks.


"Is that . . . safe?"

"I don't know. How much caffeine can a human ingest before it becomes dangerous?"

"How many Caf-Pow cups does she have?"

"Oh no. There's even more cups in the trash can."

"Even more? How is that possible?"

"Note to self: stay away from Abby until her caffeine wears off."

"Which will be . . . when? In a few hundred years?"


"I know."