Tony and Ziva walked side-by-side down an alley, wearing their black work jackets and hats; Tony turns his hat backwards sliding his black sunglasses on.
"What color?"…Ziva asked.
Ziva stopped…"What color?"
"Huh?"…He turned back towards her…"OHHH!"…He said, remembering what she was talking about…"Beige."
"Good, light blue it is."…She said, walking past him.
Tony stared at her as she walked by; he shrugged, catching up to her.
"You sure about th…"…Tony started to say, when a motorcycle busts through a door, knocking Tony over, sending Ziva stumbling away from it.
The helmeted man on the motorcycle burns out, the back tire slides; leaving black and burnt rubber on the cement, it was now turned to the right, it quickly zooms away. Tony sits up, pulling his Sig, he fires several times before the motorcycle disappears out of the alley to its right.
"Are you alright!"…Ziva yelled, moving back to Tony, her Sig in hand.
"Go, go! I'm fine."…He yelled back.
Ziva was about to run after the motorcycle, but stopped, she headed through the door the motorcycle came out of, she rushed through a storage room of an auto parts store, dodging crates and boxes, she pushed her way through a set of swinging doors, she ran down an aisle, yelling at a man standing by the front door…"Open the door!"
The man grabbed the door, opening it as Ziva dashed outside; the man on the motorcycle was coming towards her. Ziva jumped sliding across a hood just as the man was about to pass her, she connect with her foot to his face, knocking him off the motorcycle.
The man flew backwards as Ziva slid halfway off the other side of the hood, dropping her gun. She drops the rest the way off the hood, she tries putting weight on her foot, but can't. She grunts in pain as the man started to stir. She turned in the direction of her gun and started to hobble towards it, dropping to her knees. She started to crawl.
The man sits up, throwing his helmet to the side, he moves his hand to his waist, pulling a pistol…"You bitch…"…He yelled, raising his gun.
Three rounds enter his chest as Ziva looked on, she quickly looked back; Tony was standing next to her, smoke escaping from the muzzle of his firearm.
Tony takes a step to his right, kicking Ziva her weapon. She grabs it, training it on the man as Tony carefully made his way to him.
Tony stood over him; the man's eyes were opened…"He's toast."
Ziva lies back, she groaned as Tony took a handkerchief from his pocket, picking up the man's gun.
Tony walked to her, setting the gun on the hood of the car…"You okay?"
Tony offered his hand…"I am fine."…She said, sitting up, she placed her feet together, taking his hand, he pulls her up.
She groans yet again, stumbling forward, falling to her knees, she raises her hands catching herself on him, her hands mid-thigh as her face turned, pressing against his crotch, remaining there.
"Uh, Ziva?"…Tony said, holding his hands out to the side.
"What in the hell are you doing, DiNozzo!"…Gibbs yelled, moving towards them, McGee right behind them, weapons drawn.
Tony turned his head…"Huh? How is this…"…Gibbs just started at him, Tony sighed…"Sorry, Boss."
Ziva stood quickly; she limped towards Gibbs, sliding her injured right foot along the pavement, she returns her weapon to its holster, she roamed around the area, trying to walk off her injury.
Ziva turns; Tony was in her face…"Have you ever noticed, you're the Mossad assassin, but I kill more people than you, Zee-vah?"
"A lot more people hate you, Tony."…She smirked.
"What? Is that funny?"
"No, but considering who you work for, I'll take that as a compliment."
Ziva shook her head, still limping.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Just a clamp. I will be fine."
"Cramp, not clamp, Ziva."
"Yes, that, too."…She answered; she glimpsed down at her watch…"I must go."…She quickly limped past Gibbs.
"Where you going, Ziva?"…Gibbs asked, watching as she moved past him.
"Tony you will do the paper work, yes?"…She looked back, still moving.
"Yeah, yeah."…Tony replied, waving at her.
Ziva gets in the car and pulls up beside Tony; he leans down, his hands on the window…he nodded, stepping back…"By the way…nice kick, Pelé."…He smirked, as Ziva looked at him confused.
"He played soccer! I hate soccer and I know who he is!"…Tony groaned…"He was in greatest World War II soccer movie ever made, 'Victory' with Michael Caine and Sly Stallone?"…Ziva shrugs, pulling away…"You know, Rocky Balboa? Yo, Adrian!"…He yelled, watching her drive away…"Futball? Anyone know how to say soccer in Hebrew! Anyone! Hell, I give up! She's gone anyway."…He sighed, turning back towards the crime scene…"Now that I think about it, it might be the only World War II movie about soccer."…He shrugged.
"Look on the bright side, Tony."…McGee said.
Tony looked at a squatting McGee, near the dead man…"What's that, Probie?"
"Killing a dirtbag means less paperwork than a live one."
"You've killed six guys in the past month, Tony."…McGee said, clicking away at his iPhone.
"You're keeping track of how many people I've killed, McGeek!"
"Uh."…McGee stood…"Yeah, I guess so."
"What can I say, McGee…my Sig loves shooting people!"
"If you two don't get back to work, I'm gonna shoot you both!"…Gibbs yelled.
"You got it, Boss."…Tony and McGee responded at the same time.
"More research for your next book, huh, McGee?"…Tony said, boasting a huge grin…"Special Agent Tommy…a killing machine by day, an ever ready Italian stallion at night? Heh."…He grinned…"A master with his gun and his…"
"DiNozzo, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna turn the Italian stallion into a Gelding."...Gibbs threatened.
Tony gulped loudly…"Shutting up, Boss."
The sliding doors of autopsy opened, Ducky steps through smiling…"Ah, Ziva…Mr. Palmer said you needed to see me, what can I do for you, my dear?"
Ziva was sitting on the closest autopsy table to the door…"It's my right foot, Ducky."
Ducky pulls up a stool and sits in front of her…"Let me take a look."…He starts to pull at her black boot; she lets out a yelp…he stops, looking up at her…"I barely touched you."
She grips the edge of the table, slamming her eyes shut…"Pull!"…She yelled.
Ducky yanks the boot off as Ziva gritted her teeth, swallowing her pain.
Ducky examines her foot, applying pressure, observing Ziva for visual and aural cues. He presses his fingers on the top of her foot, she lets out a groan…"Ah, good news, I don't believe it's broken…however, it's most likely sprained, which is actually worse, in that it takes longer to heal."
He stood, moving to drawer, opening it, taking out an ace bandage…"I sprained my foot once."…He said, moving back to her, he sat back in front of her and started to wrap her foot…"I was 13, I had just received my first kiss."…He smiled…"Maggie O'Leary, she was Irish, the mouth on her…"…He chuckled…"And freckled, OH MY…"
"Ducky, my foot?"
"Ah, yes…well, you'll need to apply ice packs to your foot for twenty to thirty minutes every three to four hours. You also need to elevate it, above your heart level. You'll also need to take an over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medicine and of course, pain killers, if needed."
"You can't give me something to numb it?"
"Why on earth would you want to do that!"
"I…I have a date tonight."
"Ah, I see."…He lets out a small laugh…"I'm sorry, dear…there's no instant cure for a sprain."
"Ducky, I HAVE to go and I HAVE to wear heels."
Ducky chuckled, but quickly stops as he peered at the not amused look on Ziva's face…"Well, if you can stomach the pain…but good lord, you'll be feeling it tomorrow."
"I do not care…I promised Tony."
"Our Tony?"…Ducky said, surprised.
Ziva softly sighed…"Yes."
He pats her on the side of the knee, giving her a smile…"Finally asked, did he?"
Ziva was silent as Ducky slid back towards the drawer on his stool, he opens it, taking out two bottles, he slides back…"Are you allergic to any medications?"
She shook her head no.
"Good, this one is for keeping the swelling down…and this one is for the pain…"
Ziva grabbed the bottles and hopped off the table, grabbing her boot and made her way to the elevator…"Sorry, Ducky, I have to go..."…She stepped into the elevator…"Thanks."
"Ziva…don't…"…The elevator doors closed…"Drink alcoholic bev…"…He stopped, looking concerned, he sat back on his stool…"Ziva and Tony? I will hope for the best."…He said, letting out a smile.
Tony pulled up outside of Ziva's apartment in his 1968 Shelby Mustang; it was fire engine red with two white stripes running down the middle of the car. He turns off the engine and opens the door, but stops.
He adjusts the rear view mirror, looking at his hair, he's about to touch it, but stops…"Heh. Perfect."…He flexes his neck, lifting the knot of his light blue, adorned by little white stars; he covers his mouth, checking his breath. He looks at the mirror…"What am I doing, it's not like I'm gonna get laid anyway."…He opens the door, stepping out.
He moved to Ziva's door, wearing a beige suit, with a white silk dress shirt, he knocks.
He looks at his watch…"6:29."…He knocks again.
The doors opens…Ready to go?"…He said.
Ziva stood wearing a light blue evening dress, mid-thigh length, tight to her hips. The front was rather revealing, with her breasted pushed together, her left hand fidgeting with her Star of David necklace. The spaghetti straps hung softly on her shoulder, her hair up, several curls hung in front of her face; tiny blue stone earrings decorated her perfect earlobes. She turned, showing her back, her dress was very low cut; showing a lot of skin.
"Holy crap."…Tony uttered, not believing what he was seeing.
"You like, yes?"…She grinned.
Tony just stood there, speechless.
She chuckled as she stepped out, closing the door. The clicking of her heels on the sidewalk caught Tony's attention; they were light blue with a tiny strap along the edge, about halfway up her feet, keeping her heels locked into place.
Ziva looked Tony up and down smiling…"Very handsome."
Tony remained silent, just staring at her.
Ziva grabbed Tony's tie…"We match."…She smiled again, holding it against her dress.
She lifted the end of the tie upwards, under his chin, lifting it…"Tony DiNozzo, speechless? That's a first."
Tony's eyes were locked onto her chest; Ziva looks down, then slaps him across the face.
He shook his head…"Holy FREAKIN' crap!"
Ziva laughs…"Come, we will be late."…Ziva tightens her grip on his tie, tugging ever so lightly as she spun slowly away from him; she grimaced painfully, pulling him towards the car.