Thanks to my wonderful beta Kristen! I got rather a few begging requests for a sequel to Elevator Blues, and I'm sorry about the delay but I write more Jibbs than Tiva.

For ME Wofford.

Stalemate and Assignation

Tony DiNozzo let his eyes flick over to his partner for what must have been the eighth time in a minute. She looked gorgeous; her long brown hair flowing down her back, her brown eyes focusing on the case file in front of her, her shapely body curling into her chair…

He could scarcely believe that a mere thirty minutes ago they had been kissing in the elevator. His mind flashed back to the sensation of her lips on his, the way her hands wandered all over his body, the smell of her hair when he pulled her close. She had laughed and giggled, something he never though his crazy ninja Mossad chick was capable of. And because of him as well!

And now they were back in the squad room, sitting at their respective desks, not talking. The elevator had come back to life, and whatever had happened between them had been forgotten. At least on her part. Tony could not stop reliving it.

He thought the incident had changed something between them. They had both confessed their feelings for the other, but now they were back to their usual stalemate.

She was going to kill him for sure.

Part of him longed to get her attention. He was tempted to harass the Probie again to see what she would do. He was thinking of stealing the stapler from her desk. He was even wondering if he could 'accidently' knock Gibbs' coffee over to provoke a reaction from both Gibbs and Ziva.

He could not break this impasse.


Ziva David forced herself to focus on her work and not her handsome partner sitting a few feet away. It was an incredibly difficult challenge. She had been acutely aware of his presence before they had been stuck in that elevator together, but now it was bordering on unbearable.

She now knew what his mouth tasted of, she knew how much of a good kisser he was, and she knew how he responded when she squeezed his butt. And a good butt it was too, if a little hairy. Her mind drifted back to the undercover mission they had shared towards the start of their partnership, and she longed to experience it again, but this time for real.

She had lost it. She was sure of it. How could she be so obsessed with this man? All she wanted to do was cross the room and sit in his lap, make him happy, make him smile. And yet she was stuck at her desk, unable to do anything because Gibbs and McGee were also present.

He had not spoken to her since they had emerged from the elevator. Sure, he was currently watching her and not doing a good job of hiding it, but that meant nothing. She could feel his eyes on her, observing her, scrutinizing her. What was he looking for?

Not for the first time, she cursed her Mossad training. They had taught her how to spy, to kill, to create chaos, and now all she wanted was to forget it. She could feel his eyes on her, but she did not know how to react to it. Should she ignore it? Should she call him on it?

How was she supposed to break this deadlock?


"McGee, go help Abby. I'm going for coffee."

Tony hid a smile as Gibbs gave out his orders. This would leave only him and Ziva in the squad room, and perhaps he could get his mysterious partner to open up again.

He waited until the two relevant elevators dinged, before opening his mouth. But he did not get in the first shot.

"Why are you watching me?" Ziva demanded, throwing down her pen and standing abruptly.

Tony felt a wave of fear crash down over his head. Drat! She had seen him! And she hadn't even looked up either… how did she do that? And why did he find it so hot?

"I am sitting over here, trying to work, and you are just staring at me," she continued, stalking over behind his desk and standing perilously close.

He wondered if he should make a run for it. He had a box of paperclips on his desk, and she would only need one to finish him off…

"I am surprised that Gibbs did not notice," she hissed, leaning in close.

Tony had also been surprised, although he was still concerned that the boss might corner him later today and demand to know what was going on between his agents. He did not want a lecture on Rule 12.

"I am surprised that McGee did not notice," she added, gesticulating towards the Probie's desk.

Privately, Tony was not surprised at the Probie's lack of observational skills. McGee wouldn't notice if a pack of marauding elephants wandered through the squad room, unless they managed to damage his precious computer.

"What is going on with you?" she growled, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him slightly out of his chair.

"Do you want to go on a date?" The words slipped out of his mouth without warning.


'What did he just say? Did he say what I think he did?'

Ziva was confused. One minute they had been not talking, and then she had been talking, and now he was asking her out on a date. Obviously, men did not think in a linear fashion. She already knew that most men only thought with one thing, but Tony was smarter than most.

Apparently not.

"I mean…" He tried to cover for himself. "I was going to ask if –"

"I will go on a date with you," she decided. They had already kissed in the elevator and he had told her he loved her. The next step should probably be a date.

"Good." He looked surprised, as though he had expected her to argue with him or shoot him down.

She withheld a smirk. It was good to know she could still surprise Anthony DiNozzo. "But I would like to choose the place."

"Why?" He sounded suspicious, and a little nervous. Well, she was a very dangerous woman and she could kill him with a single one of the paperclips in the box on his desk. He should be a little anxious around her.

"Because you will take me to dinner. And as much as I enjoy being taken to dinner, we often share food in the squad room. I would like to do something together that we do not normally do." She already knew where she wanted to take him; she just had to persuade him.

"And what would that be, Zee-vah?" he inquired, smiling.

She dropped a kiss on his lips, startling him. "You will have to wait and find out," she replied, laughing as she returned to her own desk.


He was dead. He was more than dead. There was no way he would be able to survive this; she was Mossad-trained after all. She had only bought him here to kill him, so she could easily explain away his dead body and the torture marks.

"Paintballing?!" he spluttered at her. "You thought a good date would be to take me paintballing?"

"You have never been?" she questioned, an innocent look on her face.

"I have been! It's painful and messy and dangerous. I'm going to look like something the cat dragged in by the end of this."

She looked confused.

"Never mind. But the point is that I am not cut out for this," he finished.

She laughed, checking her weapon for the last time. "I promise I will make it up to you," she smiled.

He found himself smiling back. He had Ziva on his side. They would be finished in ten minutes, and he could spend the next fortnight trying to get grass stains out of his skin.

"Deal," he agreed.

THE END