Tim had known the moment he woke up that it was not going to be a good day. Why shouldn't it? Yhe day before had been just as horrid. The couple in the next hotel room hadn't rested all night and, therefore, neither had Tim. When he had finally pulled himself from the bed at 8:00am, he calculated that, in the past three nights put together, he had gotten less sleep than most people got in one night. He wearily got dressed and packed his things, more than ready to leave. It was only when he was settling his bill with the front desk that he was reminded of his fan encounter the day before.

"Here are all of the addresses, Mr. Gemcity," Gloris had said as she handed over a large stack of papers. "I think some of the fans also included specific questions for you to answer."

He had taken them wordlessly and had left an autograph for her, as per his promise. He caught a cab outside the hotel and sat in traffic for half an hour before finally pulling up in front of O'Hare. Of course, it hadn't mattered how long he'd gotten caught in traffic, because the monitors showed his flight as being delayed. He went through security, found his terminal, and then he waited. And waited. And waited. His flight home had been delayed almost four hours and he hadn't gotten home until about 6:00pm. By that time, Abby had left, leaving behind a full bowl of food for Jethro, and a note letting Tim he should take the dog out as soon as he got back. The note wasn't needed, as the moment he walked in Jethro was jumping up and down, whining to be taken out. Tim wanted nothing more than to slip into bed and catch up on some much needed sleep, but he couldn't ignore the dog's needs. After all, it wasn't Jethro's fault that the vacation had been a dud.

Now, Tim stood in the elevator as it ascended up through the floors. He wasn't so much standing as he was leaning against the wall for support. His eye lids kept dropping closed, only to pop back open as the elevator dinged at each floor.

"How was your vacation, McGee?" Ziva asked as he walked past her desk.

"Fine," he grumbled sleepily. He fell into his chair and gently rested his head in his arms.

"You look horrible," she commented. "Are you sick?"

"No, just tired."

"Didn't you just take a vacation to get some rest?"

"Yes." He paused, burying his face further into his arms. "It didn't work."

"Dead Marine found in Fairfax," Gibbs announced as he walked into the squad room. "Gear up!"

"Hey, Probie!" Tony called as he walked in behind Gibbs. "Your publisher has been calling your phone non-stop, asking about your next book. She said if you don't call her back by noon today…well, I won't finish that in polite company, but I left a note on your desk."

"Timmy!" Abby shouted, enveloping him in a hug. "I need to tell you that when I took Jethro for a walk on Saturday, he peed on some old woman's flower bed. She said she wants to talk to you about it. I left her number on your fridge."

"McGee! What part of 'gear up' do you not understand?"

Tim groaned, his head sinking down further beneath his arms. "I need a vacation…from my vacation…"

AN: Thus ends the story! Thanks again to all who reviewed (and thanks in advance to any who review after this chapter is posted).