Summary: "Of all the days he could have picked to go on Ziva's coffee run with her, he didn't know why he had to pick this one." Tony and Ziva meet an interesting person while out on a coffee run.

Disclaimer: I don't own, only for creative purposes, you know, all that stuff :D

Spoilers: None

Dedication: To Reny! Happy Birthday! *Confetti* I hope this will be a nice complement to your pepperoni pizza.

Credit for the fic idea goes to Anna! You triggered my muses, girl XD


P.S. I've no idea if the fic actually makes sense, lol. I'm just ... hope you enjoy! Haha!

Coffee Run

Of all the days he could have picked to go on Ziva's coffee run with her, he didn't know why he had to pick this one. Yet, even though the look she gave him said that she suspected him of intentions less pure than just wanting to hold the coffees for her, he didn't regret his choice until they'd stepped into the coffee shop.

The ordinary person has no idea how ninjas work. He didn't know her senses had begun tingling or that she was now on the lookout for strange persons until, apparently under the pretence of flirting with him, she draped herself onto him and whispered into his ear, "There's a creepy teenage girl staring at you."

He didn't turn to check, but hissed back his own reply. "Creepy how? Does she have horns or something?"

"She looks excited. Really excited."

He gave her the oddest look he could muster out of the corner of his eye. "I don't know any really excited teenage girls."

She shrugged without undraping herself. "I will keep an eye on her."

"Can you do it somewhere that's not me?"

Ziva batted her eyelashes and ran a finger along his collar bone. "What's the matter, Tony? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He really couldn't come up with a response more intelligent than a semi-indignant grumble, but she snickered and backed off anyway.

When they had gotten through the line, bought the coffees, and left the shop without being approached by anyone or riddled with bullets, he'd thought they were home free.

But it turned out that his hopes were on the high side, because they had barely taken two steps on the cracked pavement outside the coffee shop when a rather breathless, rather high-pitched voice came from behind them, "Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Against his better judgement, he turned around and came face to face with a tiny blonde who was blushing furiously and looked close to hyperventilating. "Yeah?" he asked cautiously, shooting a look at Ziva. She was watching the girl with more amusement than alarm, so he took that to mean—and he hoped he hadn't interpreted it wrongly—that the girl wasn't a threat.

The girl's blush deepened, and her expression grew awed. "Oh my god, it really is you. Oh, I've wanted to meet you for so long!"

She went into an Abby-like squealing fit that unnerved him a tad bit more, even if Ziva looked close to rolling on the floor in laughter by now.

"She is of no immediate danger," Ziva deigned to whisper into his ear. "She is unarmed. But please don't tell me, DiNozzo, that she's about to say 'I am your daughter.'"

He was about to retort that he had nothing to do with it when the girl recovered from her fit and started speed-talking. "I saw you on TV the other day," she explained. "There was that special documentary on NCIS and the kind of work you do and even though everything was classified, it was so cool and—and there was the moment that you tackled the guy to the ground and they interviewed you after and you said it was no big deal but…" She stopped, her eyes widening impossibly. "You were so brave…"

"Um. Uh, well, cops do that all the time," he told her uncomfortably, and his hand groped around in desperation behind his back. Ziva caught the hint and wrapped her hand around his at once, although he swore he could feel laughter vibrating through her frame.

"Oh, I know, but I've always loved the Navy and I've always loved cops, and NCIS is the perfect combination for me … may I have an autograph?" The girl whipped out a pen and a notebook with great fervour and out of nowhere, her expression pleading. "I've never met an NCIS agent before, and now I'm meeting one who's been on TV!"

"Uhm." Ziva's hand gave his a squeeze. "Sorry, but our signatures are classified … heh…"

The girl's crestfallen face turned understanding, as if what he had said made any sense at all. "Oh, of course. Can I have a picture, then? I want to show all my friends!"

He twitched nervously. "You know what? Special Agent David and I need to go now. There's some assignment we need to be getting back to … right?"

He looked at Ziva and, without waiting for her answering nod, dragged her off as fast as he could without spilling the coffees. It was quite a task, seeing as she was still trembling from the effort of holding in her laughter, but they managed to make it around three corners and out of the girl's sight in record time.

Ziva collapsed against an unoccupied wall, clutching her stomach in silent mirth, and he jutted his lip out at her. "She could have been any random lunatic from the streets!" he protested as he checked the coffees to make sure Gibbs' cup was still full.

"Well, she was unarmed, at the very least. Perhaps we should have McGee check when we get back to the Navy Yard whether you are being followed. But I did not detect anything suspicious, and…" She lowered her voice, blinking her doe-like eyes up at him, "You did look so haaaandsome on TV, Special Agent DiNozzo…"

"Stop it," he groaned, and she started laughing again. "You know, it's a lot creepier coming from you."

"I am not even offended that you said that," she squeezed out between gasps for air. "Watching you panic over the approach of a girl was worth it. You should have seen your face!"

"Okay," he said firmly, putting his foot down. "Let's get one thing straight. In the contingency that I actually have a fan girl … I'll pay you a hundred bucks to tell McGee that I handled it like a total A-list celebrity."

She snorted. "I think I like the actual version of events better."

"C'mon, Ziva," he whined. "Save my dignity for once!"

Ziva opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, they heard the teenage girl call his name again. He turned his head in terror. The girl squealed again and did what seemed like a little hop before saying, "It was awesome meeting you!"

And then she was gone, and he turned back to find Ziva gaping at him.

"Two hundred bucks," he persisted, but Ziva's growing smirk told him that oh, he was going to regret very much picking this day to go on her coffee run with her, indeed.