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"What're you doing, Abs? Moving into your lab?"

"Gibbs!" Squealing, I turn around to face him and shake my finger vigorously. "You know it's rude to sneak up on me like that!"

He grins and deposits the ginormous cup of Caf-Pow on my desk, then presses a light kiss to my cheek. "You didn't answer my question. I'm not sure Director Vance will approve of you living here like this."

I try to scowl at him, but it doesn't last long. It never lasts long around Gibbs. "No, no, no! It's not like that, Gibbs!"

"Then what is it like, Abs?" He's using that amused Dad tone again, which means he's in a good mood today.

"It was the craziest thing! I was streaming music from this awesome radio station on my computer, right? It's kind of too pop-y for me sometimes, but they don't have any real commercials. And do you know the best part, Gibbs?" He doesn't answer me, just smiles indulgently. Resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him, I just shake my head instead, amused by the sway of my pigtails. "It's run by high school kids, Gibbs. They get to learn how to be deejays, and they're really good at picking out what's going to be popular in dance music. I mean, they don't really do a lot of the stuff I normally like, but every once in a while I like to bop it up a little, you know?"

Gibbs chuckles and shakes his head; he has no idea what I'm talking about. Turning back to my stash, I keep looking at the items spread out on the table: key chains, mouse pads, travel mugs, notepads, pens, CDs, washcloths, and a whole bunch more things that I haven't even taken out of the box. I'll share most of this stuff, but the CDs are mine, damn it! Well, and the chocolates. No, I'd share those with Ziva.

"Abs? What the hell does your choice in music have to do with all this crap?"

"Oh yeah! I didn't get to that part yet. Want some mints, Gibbs?"

"Abby!"

"Okay, okay! Geez, Gibbs, there's no need to be so grumpy about this."

His hand hovers over the Caf-Pow he just brought me. "If you don't tell me why all this crap is in here in the next thirty seconds, I'll bring Director Vance down so you can explain it to him, and I'll take back this Caf-Pow. I'm sure McGee's probably thirsty about now."

"No!" I cry out, making grabby hands at the Caf-Pow that he snatches away and holds just out of my reach. "No fair, Gibbs!" He shrugs and shakes the cup at me. I can hear the ice sloshing around in the yummy red goodness. "Fine! So I sent an email to the station's main address, telling them how much I love their station and that I'd done an online donation to keep them going. Did you know they function solely on listener donations, Gibbs? Isn't that amazing? And they can be heard all over the world!"

"Abs!"

"Right. So I sent them an email and gushed, and then I found these boxes in my lab this morning. I mean, when I made my donation, I was expecting to get the CDs and the beanie. Oh, and the chance to do the guest deejay thing, but they're so far away, Gibbs. They're in Seattle! So I told them to find a kid at the children's hospital there and let the kid doing the guest deejay thing for me. But they sent me all this stuff! I think they think that everybody hear listens to their station. I mean, I did send them a thousand dollars, which is more than their biggest donation with a gift, but still."

Before I can do more than catch a quick breath, Gibbs' hand is resting over my mouth. "Breathe, Abs," he says in that bemused Dad tone again. "So let me get this straight. You donated a thousand dollars to a high school radio station in Seattle and they sent you all of this crap?"

"Swag." The word is out before I can stop myself, muffled as it is behind his hand.

"What?"

"It's called swag, Gibbs. And I think they may have sent it because I sent my email and my donation through my work email." His eyebrows scrunch together and his lips purse in that kind of disappointed look that I hate. "It was an accident, Gibbs! They were playing really good music and they mentioned the pledge drive, and I just… Before I knew what I was doing, it was all over with. Please don't be mad at me, Gibbs. I'm gonna share everything with people here and take some pictures to send back to the school of people with their swag."

"Once you clear that with Director Vance, right?"

Blinking in surprise, I nod. "Well, yeah, of course." And then it dawns on me. "But if I do that, I'm gonna have to explain what I did to him. He's gonna be pissed at me, Gibbs! Don't make me do it. Please?"

He sets the Caf-Pow back on my table and leans back to study me for a long moment. There's that faintly disapproving look in his eyes, and the longer he takes, the more worried I get. He can't really be mad at me, can he? Finally he just smiles and kisses my cheek.

"You'll be fine, Abs. Now, how about we put this cr-- swag away and do some work today?"