Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, don't own NCIS or any of its characters.
This is my first fanfiction, so to start off slow this will be a series of drabbles featuring a random word for each letter of the alphabet for NCIS. Reviews (constructive criticism only please!) are welcome!
A – Accompaniment
Set early on when Ziva doesn't know much of America – Season 3 or 4
It was 0700 hours, and McGee was, of course, on time. Gibbs was out for coffee. He was sitting at his computer surfing the internet waiting for the others to come in to work. "Usually DiNozzo's late, so that's not much of surprise – but where's Ziva? She's always here before me". He just shrugged and looked back at the screen. Just as he started opening his email, the all-too familiar sound of the elevator – or, in Gibbs' team's case – the office - rung out. Ziva David walked into the bullpen, angrily stuffing her bag, guns, and badge in her desk before muttering something unintelligible (to McGee, at least) –in Hebrew. He looked up from his computer.
"Ziva, what's wrong? You wouldn't be swearing, I presume, in Hebrew for nothing. Something I can help you with?"
Ziva looked up from her desk and shook her head. "No thank you, McGee. I do not think you can help" as she turned back to her computer.
"Okay, but if you change your mind, just ask." He turned back to what he was doing.
Again, the elevator dinged. Walking in was Tony, who strolled over to his desk across from Ziva. "I have the perfect view from here – the best spot", he thought as he looked upon an angry Ziva. "…Or the most dangerous."
After a few minutes of both men trying to avoid the effects of a furious assassin, McGee stood up. "I'm going to get a Nutter Butter, either of you…want anything?" he asked hesitantly.
"No thank you, McGee" Tony and Ziva replied. McGee walked away, and then Tony strode over to Ziva.
"So, Zee-vah, what's got your panties in a twist?"
Ziva looked up sharply. "I am not uncomfortable. And even if I was…"
"No, Ziva, it means what's wrong, although, it would be a sight to see." he laughably explained.
"Oh…well, I just spoke to my accompanist for the NCIS benefit I've been 'asked' to sing at on the way in. Apparently, she has run down with a terrible fever and I now must find someone before next week."
Tony inwardly grinned. "Well, Zee-vah, if you want to teach me how to play it maybe I could help ya. After all, I did take piano when I was little, but I'd need a refresher course I'm sure…"
McGee quietly slipped back at his desk, not wanting the job of accompanist to befall on him. He'd much rather be with Abby, he thought.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she thought, "Okay, DiNozzo…thank you."
"No problem, sweetcheeks."
Ziva glared at him. "Do not push it, Tony. I will have knives around from making dinner. And of course, I always carry my gun."
Ignoring her threat, Tony exclaimed, "You're gonna cook! Awesome! What it'll be, chicken, steak, roast beef, or maybe some of that…"
Before he could finish he jerked as he felt a hard smack on his head. "DiNozzo, David, McGee, gear up. Dead body at Quantico"