Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me.

A/N This chapter is totally cheesy, fluffy and so very nice to read. I want to thank everyone for sticking by me and supporting me with this fic. I treasure every one of your reviews and comments. I really hope I have written something that you have enjoyed. I had so much fun writing this and couldn't have done it without all your support and especially the support of my wonderful beta, Kandon Kuuson. You are the greatest, Jems.

Epilogue: Rule Twelve

Three Weeks Later

"Okay, Anthony," Tony started as he peered at himself in his car mirror. "You have been on dates before. What is different about this one?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said as he tweaked the front of his hair, "maybe because I've never been on a date with some who can kill with a paperclip in eighteen different ways."

"That's no excuse, Mister," Tony chided himself. "I'm sure Ziva would teach you if you wanted."

"That's not the point," he muttered. "If this goes wrong …"

"You'll run screaming and crying with a knife wielding Ziva chasing after you," he finished for himself.

"To right I would, the knife would probably be in my back," he agreed with himself. "Hmmm … but where would she have a knife? She said she would wear a dress."

"Use your imagination, DiNozzo," he told himself with a smile.

"If things go well," a feminine voice interrupted, "you might not have to imagine."

Tony yelped at the sudden appearance of Ziva's head poking through his car window. He stumbled towards the passenger seat, hitting the horn as he did so. It sounded and a nearby dog barked.

Ziva smirked at him. "I thought in the movies the guy was meant to pick the girl up from her door, yes?"

"Don't do that to me," Tony muttered as he clutched his heart. "You gave me a heart attack."

"Oh, my poor little hairy butt." Ziva reached through the window and slapped him lightly on the cheek. "I am sorry." The smirk on Ziva's face told him that she was anything but sorry. Tony mustered up his best Gibbs glare and sent it towards Ziva.

She rolled her eyes. "So you are not going to even open the car door for me?"

"I would," he countered, "if I could get out my car. Your head is kinda in my way."

"Oh, sorry," she smiled at him.

"Don't apologise, it's a sign of weakness," Tony quoted Gibbs as Ziva rolled her eyes again.

"Tell me, what kind of medication was I on when I agreed to this," she sighed as she pulled her head out of his car window.

"Very strong ones," Tony agreed with a grin as he opened the car door and stepped out. He bowed at Ziva, who, Tony noticed, was looking very nice in a golden dress that accentuated her curves nicely.

"Milady," Tony said as he pulled open the passenger door with a flourish. He bowed again as Ziva stepped gracefully into the car.

"I don't understand how you can do that." Tony shook his head as he noticed Ziva's heels.

"I am sure I can teach you to walk in them after I have taught you to kill with a paperclip in eighteen different ways," Ziva smirked as Tony took a step back.

"How … how long where you standing there," he mumbled.

"Oh," Ziva started lightly, "just long enough to know that if this date goes badly that you will go running and screaming and crying down the road with a knife in your back. That alone, would be enough to mess down this date."

"It's mess up," Tony corrected with a wary grin, "and that is not very nice."

"Who said anything about being nice?" Ziva smiled seductively.

"Well, then, I guess you won't be needing these." Tony reached into the back seat and pulled out a bunch of pink roses. "I … I know you're not really the flower type, but …" Tony trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

Ziva smiled softly at Tony. "They are beautiful, Tony. Thank you," she said sincerely.

"You like them?" Tony asked hopefully as he handed her the bouquet of roses.

"Yes, Tony, I like them," Ziva smiled gently at him. "I like them very much."

"Good …" Tony didn't really know what to say, and for the first time, felt a little awkward on a date.

"But I would like it even better if you did this …" Ziva pulled Tony's arm so that he was bending over in the doorway of the passenger's side.

Looking deeply into Tony's eyes, Ziva captured his lips in one smooth motion.

'Mmmm … sweet and peppery,' he thought to himself before jerking backwards.

"What?" Ziva looked hurt as their lips parted.

"It's just, I … you … Gibbs," Tony was speechless. "Oh, what the hell. Rule twelve is just about screwed anyway."

Tony lent back into the passenger seat and pressed his lips against Ziva's once again. This time, Ziva drew back.

"What?" Tony echoed Ziva's previously question.

"It's not just about screwed, Tony," Ziva said with a smirk. "Rule twelve is totally screwed."

"I can live with that," Tony smiled as Ziva lent back into him and their lips met once again.

As Ziva deepened the kiss, Tony thought to himself:

'Rule Twelve is totally screwed.'