Tony and Ziva were assigned to be married assassins undercover at an expensive hotel.
Tony and Ziva were married assassins at an expensive hotel.
Tony and Ziva were married at an expensive hotel.
Tony and Ziva were married.
He had written this down about twenty times on a sheet of paper, each time having to shake his head in disbelief. His mind liked to filter through the words, subtracting them down two to basic facts; he was married (fake or not) and he was going to be in an expensive hotel room with a very attractive woman. He laughed to himself, leaning back in his chair, crumpling the piece of paper with the words on it and tossing it into the trash can. They had to be at the hotel in an hour, but for now, he was alone in the squad room. McGee was busy in MTAC and Gibbs was getting briefed on the details that were needed for the mission.
Ziva walked out from the ladies room, heading to her desk and taking a seat, glancing at Tony as she did so. He seemed relaxed; his feet were propped up on his desk as he leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and his eyes on the ceiling, forehead wrinkled some in what she assumed was deep thought. Or at least deep for Tony, which likely meant he was going over some movie references or possibly trying to recall his favorite part of the latest GSM article. She smiled in amusement, beginning to sort through papers and adjusting the dress she'd been forced to change into.
"Two assassins die in a car crash," he finally said, though it wasn't very clear if he was musing out loud to himself or actually talking to Ziva. When he turned his head to look at her, it was made obvious, and he gave her an amused smirk. "Sounds like the beginning to some morbid joke."
"Are you nervous, Tony?" She glanced up from her papers, brow arched a bit. He always seemed to start to crack jokes when he was worried, but she highly doubted he'd ever admit to it. Not surprisingly, he snorted and shook his head, waving a hand in her direction to dismiss the motion entirely.
"I get to hit on you without the risk of you randomly going Jason Lee on my ass and knocking me out for the next week," he said with a smile. "We're married now, after all. Does this mean I get ... free range?"
Ziva tapped the papers against the desk, making them stack neatly together, and placed them into a bag. Her expression had become more business oriented, serious and stern; it didn't change any as she stood from her seat, walking across the distance between their desks and taking a seat on the edge of his. She was studying him. It made Tony nervous to be studied and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, lowering his feet and taking his hands out from behind his head. Leaning an elbow against his desktop, he rested his chin in his hand and looked up at her, brow arched just slightly.
"Well do I?"
"Mm, you would like that, wouldn't you," she murmured, the question clearly rhetorical. Looking at her nails, she began to pick at them slightly, making sure each was clean and perfect. Tony was always surprised by these slightly feminine habits; Ziva was not particularly girly and seeing her in make up, her hair done up, and a nice dress was making him realize just how attractive his coworker really was. Licking his lips, he raised his eyebrows further, waiting for a complete answer. "We will have to be convincing, Tony. One mistake could be our downfall. We are playing a dangerous game and if someone figures out we are not who we say we are, it could be over in a single moment. Are you prepared to do what it takes?"
He scoffed a bit, his brows going from raised to wrinkled as he glared at her just slightly. "I'm a trained agent, Ziva - I'm fully prepared for any situation."
She observed him momentarily before reaching out with her hand, stroking his cheek with her thumb. He stiffened and she sighed in frustration, pulling away and getting off his desk as threw her hands into the air. "Things like that, Tony! You can not do things like that if you are married to me. You are going to get us both killed!"
"Wait! Wait, let me try again - you just caught me off guard, I wasn't--"
"You think I will catch you on your guard all the time? You must be prepared for these sorts of things. It is not as though you are not used to women touching you, Tony." She gave him a once over glance with her eyes, smirking a bit, and tapping her fingers against the desk. "Why so nervous with me? Do I... intimidate you? Is that the word?"
"What word is it then?"
"Not intimidate because you don't."
Smiling to herself, Ziva returned to her seat. Tony watched her for a moment, before getting up from his own chair, playing with a pen in his hand as he walked over to her. He gripped it gentle, pointing the end with the cap stuck onto it at her as he spoke. "So how exactly do you think we should go about things to look like a real couple? I promise to always be prepared for you to touch me and not seethe at the burning contact of assassin skin."
"... 'Assassin skin'? Surely you can not be serious."
"I'm very serious. And don't call me Shirley." He grinned, ducking the piece of trash she threw at his head. "Not a fan of Airplane!, I take it?"
"Who likes airplanes and what does it have to do with your corny joke?"
"... It's a 1980s cult classic. How did you grow up not seeing it? It's not only one of the funniest movies of all time - it's one of those films that you watch and know you simply haven't lived before seeing it." He smiled, leaning against the edge of her desk himself this time and leaning in a bit. "I'll rent it; we can watch it this weekend."
"I am not going over to your house."
"But we're married now."
"For the next few hours, a couple of days at most."
"So let's act married."
"We are already... bitching like a married couple." Tony stared at her, his face holding the look that never failed to make her feel slightly idiotic. Huffing, she glared up at him. "What!?"
"Bickering. Bickering like a married couple."
She stared up at him for a moment, her mouth scrunched, clearly debating what to say next. She did not feel like acknowledging his correction, so instead she grabbed her book from the desk, leaned back in her chair, and flipped to the last page she'd been on. She sat there for a few moments, reading silently as Tony stared at her expectantly, before she finally said; "I think we should have sex, Tony."
She heard a slight thud as he fell off the side of the desk. Glancing over the edge of the book, she was disappointed to see he had stopped himself from falling onto the floor entirely.
"You think we should have what?"
"Sex. You act as if you have never heard the word before."
"On a mission?"
She paused, smirking slightly, and giving a low chuckle. "Pretending to have intercourse with one another will certainly make out marriage look legitimate to anyone who may be spying in our room. Videos, bugs, even inferred spectrums could be fooled by it if we do it right. It is the perfect plan."
He was quiet, clearly trying to put the pieces together slowly inside his mind. "You want... to act like we're having sex... to fool peeping Toms?"
"... People who may be listening in."
"Why do you assume they are named Tom?"
"I'm not - for the love of God... You want to fool whoever is listening in that way?"
She nodded, returning to her book once again. "Unless you do not think you can handle me."
"Oh!" He laughed, walking back towards his desk and sitting in the chair. "Oh, I have no doubt that I can handle you, Ziva. The question is - can you handle me?"
"If she can handle terrorists, she can handle you, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he came strolling into the squad room. "Your limo's arrived - McGee will be buy to plant listening devices and cameras in the room later. He'll sweep for bugs then. Until then - don't mess up."
Tony and Ziva nodded, pulling themselves from their desk chairs and heading towards the elevator doors. Ziva smirked, winked, and pressed the button for the lower level.