"Ugh!" Ziva let out an angry sound and slammed her phone down and fanned herself with her free hand.

"What's up?" Tony asked from six feet away.

Ziva rubbed her temples."Abby's got people calling me from all over the place and it's driving me crazy. florists, bakers, bands…"

Tony winced. "Ooh, death metal at a wedding - never really a good idea."

"This is driving me crazy!" she exclaimed. "It's like she's more excited by this than I am!"

Tony looked concerned. "You…you are excited, though, right?"

"Of course I'm excited, just…can we talk about something other than the wedding, just for the few minutes I have to spare between phone calls and case reports?" She ran a hand through her unruly curls. Next, Abby would be finding her a hairdresser.

"Sure. Say, here's something we haven't discussed: you gonna change your name?"

Ziva's eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. "Tony! Should we really be discussing that here?"

"Why not? It's a simple question." Tony seemed determined all of a sudden.

"Because if I actually make a decision then you might…get a little sensitive," she answered tactfully.

"Come on, Ziva. No pressure."

She knew that wasn't true but he didn't seem to be backing down. They were going to have this argument sooner or later. "Fine. I'd like to keep my name."

He looked physically hurt. "What? But DiNozzo's a great name!"

"There you go! I did not say it wasn't, I just do not think it suits me very well. Italian and Israeli? Do the two really go hand in hand?"

"So you're a little diverse, but it's not like people don't know that about you already! You speak ten languages!"

She made fists with both hands. "Tony, do you know how ridiculous it'll sound walking up to a suspect's house and introducing ourselves as Agents DiNozzo and DiNozzo? It sounds like a law firm for mobsters!"

Tony's eyes only widened in wonder at the concept. She sighed and walked over to her fiancée. There had to be another way to reason with him. She loved him but man, they were both as stubborn as each other.

"Well, Tony, look at it this way: if - God forbid - someone like Harper Dearing or Jonas Cobb ever tried to go after the heart of the team again, I'd hardly like to hand them an Achilles heel on a silver platter."

He thought for a moment, but that thought left him as quickly as it arrived. "I don't know, I'd still say it's worth havin' such a great name."

Ziva growled. "This is infuriating!" Her phone began to ring again. She whipped around and pointed to it with a merciless glare. "SHUT UP!" she exclaimed.

Tony, sensing it was his time to shine, quickly rose and held her by the shoulders. "OK, OK, I'm just messin' around, you can keep your name."

She sighed, relieved. "Thank you. Now can you do one more thing for me?"

"Anything, my betrothed."

"Answer the damn phone."

Tony smiled tightly. "With pleasure." He picked it up. "Special Agent David's desk. Oh, hey Abbs. I was gonna call you, actually. Listen: I know how much fun you're having playing wedding planner but we've decided to go in a different direction, OK? Bye now."

Ziva actually laughed as he hung up the phone and he stepped in close, smiling. He placed a soft kiss to her lips, comfortingly, reassuringly.

"Save somethin' for the honeymoon, you two," they heard Gibbs say, with a timely entry as usual. They were sure he was used to the idea of them by now, but hearing his voice when they thought they were alone never ceased to make either one of them jump out of their skins.