A/N: Sorry for no updates on my other stories! I was writing this in class the other day and decided to carry it on. It was meant to be a one shot…
"Tony! I do not want to know what happens next!" Ziva exclaimed, striding back to her desk in exasperation with Tony in close pursuit.
"Aw, come on Zee-vah!" Tony implored her, attempting to inform her of the latest happenings in their shared favorite program.
"No!" Ziva sat down at her desk and Tony leant on it and tried to stare her down. "And that is final."
The word was emphasized so much that Tony didn't even bother to argue.
"Fine! At least come round to my place and watch it with me." Tony smiled at her and Ziva rolled her eyes.
"So you can tell me what happens just seconds before it does?" She asked skeptically.
"I won't! I promise! Look, I'll cook dinner. Make an occasion of it." Tony tried to bribe her at the same as McGee entered the bullpen from the morning coffee run.
"Occasion of what?" He asked, as he handed them their respective wake up call.
"Season Finale." Tony informed the seemingly clueless Probie.
"The Mentalist." Ziva added. McGee grinned.
"I love that show!" McGee exclaimed. "I'm watching with Abs tonight!"
Ziva lifted her hand to knock on the door, but just as her knuckles were about to make contact, the door was opened. She dropped her hand.
"Thank you, Tony." She smiled, and Tony invited her in with a sweeping gesture.
"Please, do come in. How marvelous it is to see you." Tony said in a faked posh English accent, with a grin.
Ziva walked in, and Tony shut the door behind her. Ziva noted the surprisingly tidy hallway, before Tony showed her into an elegant-looking dining room. She noticed that it looked like a large light source had been removed from above the mahogany table.
Tony took her coat off of her and she handed him her bag, which he laid over the couch. He pulled out one of the two chairs and motioned for her to sit.
"Thank you…" Ziva sat down. "Do you want any help?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks." Tony grinned at her and she smiled back. They had decided eventually to have dinner first and then watch the season finale.
A tasty scent wafted into the room and Ziva looked up to see Tony carrying in two steaming plates.
"Bistecca alla Fiorentina." Tony informed her, putting a plate in front of her and one in his space, and then returning to fetch something else.
"E Vino Nobile di Montepulciano." He smiled, and with a flourish, placed a glass in front of Ziva and poured her a small amount of wine. "To taste, Signorina David?"
"Grazie tanto, Signor DiNozzo." Ziva returned the smile and sipped the wine. "Eccellente."
Thanks a lot.
Tony topped up her glass, poured himself out one and finally sat down.
"Sembra deliziosa." Ziva said, and Tony was surprised at her Italian.
It looks delicious.
"Lei parla italiano?" He asked, and she smiled.
You speak Italian?
"Un poco. Ho pensato come sembrava essere il tentativo di alcuni Ebraico mi potrebbe anche imparare l'italiano." Ziva rolled the words off her tongue as if she was Italian herself.
A little. I thought that since you were attempting Hebrew I should try to learn some Italian.
"Si stanno facendo molto meglio di me!" Tony laughed, and Ziva smiled.
You are doing much better than me!
"Nel tempo, Tony, nel tempo." Ziva replied. "Dobbiamo mangiare?"
In time, Tony, in time. … Shall we eat?
"That would be a good idea." Tony flashed her his infamous 'DiNozzo grin', and they both began to eat.
"Assolutamente bella!" Ziva exclaimed. "Perfetto!"
Absolutelylovely. … Justperfect!
"Toda raba, Officer David."
Thank you very much.
Just over half an hour later, Tony stood up and began to clear the dishes away.
"Let me help." Ziva stood up but Tony shook his head resolutely.
"I invited you, you're the guest. You don't need to help." He told her, and Ziva rolled her eyes, but sat down again.
Tony placed the dishes in the kitchen and returned to the dining room. He glanced at the wall clock.
"We have… ten minutes." He announced, and Ziva stood up. "Let's go."
He led Ziva upstairs. She glanced around, wondering where he was taking her. Hang on… this was Tony…
She was about to say something when he pushed open a door to reveal a room with a black leather couch and on the wall, a 50" plasma screen TV.
"Woah." Ziva commented, as she walked in.
"My hideout." Tony admitted, and Ziva smiled.
"Very nice. I should visit more often with treatment like this." She laughed.
"You should come more often." Tony replied seriously, and Ziva wondered at the tone in his voice. She couldn't place the emotions that it seemed to display. She could seem to detect a hint of… longing?
Ziva stood by the couch, and Tony gestured for her to sit.
"I'll be right back." He suddenly dashed off and left Ziva feeling very vulnerable indeed. But vulnerable to what? She couldn't work it out herself. Vulnerable to… herself? But, before she could start thinking all philosophically, Tony was back.
"Chohm-pan-yuh?" He spun out the word and in both of their minds they received flash backs of when they were sent undercover as Jean-Paul and Sophie Ranier.
"Just a little." Ziva allowed herself, and Tony produced a glass and poured her more than 'just a little', but she refrained from commenting. She would just have to leave some, she told herself.
Tony poured himself some alcohol and sat down next to Ziva, and brandished the remote.
He flicked through the channels until he reached CBS. CSI was just finishing.
"Do you watch CSI?" Tony asked Ziva, who shrugged.
"Occasionally. If it is on when I am watching television." She replied non-commitally.
"Same." Tony agreed.
"I do watch Numb3rs though." Ziva added. "I have watched it with McGee a few times."
"You watch TV with McGoogle?!" Tony asked, surprised.
"Yes. He doesn't try to tell me what happens!" Ziva grinned, and then turned her attention to the television as the familiar music began to play.
"Finally. The Finale." Tony settled down, his arm resting gently over Ziva's shoulders.
A/N: I do hope you enjoyed that as there will be a second chapter too! From McGoo: Please review! =]