Disclaimer: I own the poem. That's it.

Author's Notes: Gibb's thoughts about his team during a quiet moment at the office. ^_^ Enjoy!

On a cold summer's day in the NCIS office

A certain gray-haired man sat and thought.

Tony was whining about McGee's latest books profits

While Ziva was confused by the plot.

You people drive me up the wall, he thought,

And sometimes you don't seem to know why.

It's Abby and Ducky who don't get on my nerves a lot

While Palmer… Well, he was going to let that sleeping dog lie.

Tony, no one cares about the latest woman of your dreams,

And no, we don't know where that quote is from.

Ziva, too many secrets plus men usually means

Your latest love might be on the run.

McGee… I have no idea what you just said;

And it's maddening when you try to explain.

Gibbs winced; poetic thoughts flowing through his head.

They were, quite frankly, far from mundane.

My senior agent thinks he's hotter than the sun,

And my probie believes that most idioms make no sense,

While McGee seems to think tormenting me is fun.

No wonder Ducky usually comes to my defense.

He searched through his desk drawers

For his flask of liquor.

Angered by the sounds of Tony's fakes snores,

He should've thought of it quicker.

How did I end up with three children; I thought I only had one.

Luckily when I leave, they don't usually follow.

At least that reward I have won.

He thought with a swallow.

But, Tony does know some good movies, some I like;

And Ziva is a good friend indeed.

McGee does not pick a fight.

The liquor is thinking for me, I believe.

So he smiled and watched as his team bickered,

Another case drawing near.

And when the phone rang, he snickered.

"We have a case; grab your gear."

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Flamers will be ignored.