A/N: Thank you for the response everyone! I'm sorry for the failure to update; RL has been HECTIC. I've had like no time at all.

Tony ran his right hand over his face tiredly, staring at the silky garment in his left. His face felt sweaty, or was it his hands? He wasn't sure. His head was spinning, and his mind was running in circles, and frankly, it was far too early and under the effects of a hangover caused by what had obviously been far too much alcohol for such vigorous mental activity.

What the hell had he gotten himself into? Gotten both of them into? Not to mention, this behaviour wasn't exactly Agent of the Year material. Of course, he could only assume what 'this kind of activity' actually was. He was still uncertain to a degree about just what had transpired here last night. All he had to prove anything was an empty condom wrapper. He knew it was likely that Ziva would remember, but he half-hoped she wouldn't. In truth, he couldn't bear to see the look on her face if she found out he didn't remember anything; to be under the impression that she was just another number on the list of drunken and forgotten one-night stands, which she could never be.

He stared at the bathroom door, as if it would somehow transform into a magic mirror and reveal his memories.

I guess, he thought, I better wait for the woman behind it.

Cautiously, he walked over to it, twisting the knob and opening it just a crack. He didn't try to peek – he wouldn't dare – he just placed her blouse on the floor that was within arm's reach and closed it again.

Ziva felt the hot water gush over her aching body. Her muscles were tight and stiff, and she groaned aloud as she dug her fingers into her left shoulder, wincing at the pain. The water seemed to ease the throbbing in her head, and the pain that came with it. She had never really been a big drinker, but every once in a while, it was nice to let her hair down, both metaphorically and literally. But somehow, she was always the consequence's target – meaning she always seemed to suffer for having a little fun. Evidently, that pattern had kept itself up at this year's Christmas party. After all, she was currently in Tony DiNozzo's shower.

She didn't know what to make of it all. They'd known each other for almost two and a half years. It had been more than just sex, right? Of course. It had to have been.

Ziva David was not one to let something slip from her memory, but she had to admit that she was having a little trouble fully recalling what had happened the night before. She remembered the party, but not much else.

The party…

Twelve Hours Earlier

She wore simple black pants and boots, but for a touch of festive colour a green blouse was added to the ensemble, and she smiled satisfactorily at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her apartment.

She was surprised to see Gibbs when she arrived in the lobby, but didn't question him for fear of him regretting the decision to come at all. She just gave him a friendly grin and a hello and the two shared a comfortably silent elevator ride. Once the doors opened at the third floor, Abby's extensive collection of Christmas songs were blasting through speakers. And the music, as Gibbs put it, "hits ya in the face like knuckles with bells on."

She wasn't entirely sure she knew what it meant, but smiled nonetheless, and tried to find, somewhere in the large crowd, her teammates.

Fortunately, she didn't need to find Abby. Abby quite easily came to her, and her hello was an especially enthusiastic bear hug, and an even bigger one for Gibbs. Ziva raised an eyebrow at the Goth's attire. Ziva knew, after two Christmases at NCIS, that Abby very much enjoyed the festive season, but this year it had been taken to a whole new level.

Her usual knee-high platforms had been adorned with bells on each of the twelve buckles on each shoe. Her pale legs were covered by red stockings and over them she had a red and green plaid miniskirt. Her T-shirt bore the slogan: Santa, I've been a good girl this year. On each pigtail, a sprig of holly decorated the hair elastic, and on her head, a Santa hat that lit up when one squeezed the fluffy ball at the top.

"Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed, then faltered. "Uhm…Happy Hanukkah?"

Ziva smiled. "Same to you, Abby," she said happily.

Moments later, Ducky was by Abby's side, looking very smart in a red and green bowtie. "Ah, season's greetin's be with ye," he said in his infrequently used yet perfectly intact Scottish accent. The four made their way over to the corner of the room that McGee and Tony had taken over. They all had to push past a few people to get there though, and what surprised Ziva was that no one took even a second look at Abby. They were all obviously used to her eccentricities.

"Merry Christmas, Officer David," Tony greeted with a charming smile, handing her a drink. She took it and raised it, tapping it against his, the paper cups barely making an audible sound. "Happy Hanukkah."

"That's a nice blouse," Tony said, with a tinge of discomfort to his voice, for temporarily forgetting her religious roots. "Green's your colour."

She smiled, but it was partnered with a frown, and he inwardly scolded himself.

What are you doing, DiNozzo? This is a split personality from the guy who picks up hot women at bars every other week with little more than a wink and a smile.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up," he went on, more thinking aloud than thinking about whether he should say it aloud. "You look nice. Not that you don't usually look nice…"

Good lord. He sounded like Abby when she was uncomfortable. He swilled the rest of his drink and quickly poured himself another. Alcohol – that was definitely what he needed.

In present time, Tony mentally slapped himself. If not for alcohol, he wouldn't be suffering from memory loss, he wouldn't have potentially slept with his partner, and his life wouldn't slowly be turning into a diluted version of The Hangover.

A/N: I'll update when I can. Like I said, RL is seriously insane atm. So much homework!