"Just give us a shot," she said to you as her usual grin stretched across her face. "I'll take you somewhere nice." She reached out to lightly touch your hand that was clenched tightly at your side. Her face grew momentarily serious. "Just one date, Ziva." Then her playful grin made a reappearance. "We can compare scars." The light touch of her fingertips on your hand vanished, and she crossed her arms.

You sighed. "I have already told you, Abby, being with me is dangerous."

"I'm a big girl," she said almost indignantly. "I can take care of myself." She pouted.

You chuckled at the look on her face, and at the recollection of the multiple times Abby had singlehandedly disarmed and tied up her past assailants and stalkers.

"That you can," you conceded, with a slight dip of your head.

"Ziva," she pleaded, the normally playful tone in her voice gone.

Your normally strong resolve wavered, and you hesitated before you repeated your warning to her (it was true though, being with you was dangerous). She saw your hesitation and jumped on her chance.

"Just one date," she said and put her hands on your shoulders, stepping closer. "Just one date, and then if you're still so adamant against us, I'll leave it be." Her eyes flashed in excitement, and her voice was back to normal.

"Will you truly?" You asked incredulously. Not that you necessarily wanted her to 'leave it be'.

A sly grin erupted. "No," she laughed. "Not a chance. I just thought that'd get you to change your mind."

You shook your head with your own smile, and she dropped her hands from your shoulders- you immediately missed their familiar warmth and weight.

"Come on." She dragged out the last word, bouncing up and down as she did so. You struggled to smother your laughter. "How can you say no to this face?" She cocked her head to one side, poked out her bottom lip, and batted her eyelashes at you.

Truthfully, you were finding it hard- extremely hard- to say no to that face (a 'puppy dog face' you believed it was called), but you couldn't let her see your indecision. You narrowed your eyes playfully, and you locked into an intense staring contest with her.

She blinked first, with a loud, disgruntled groan, and you laughed.

"How are you immune to that look?" she exclaimed. "The only one who can resist is Gibbs, and he rarely even does. How, Ziva!" She stomped a foot.

You pointed to yourself. "Highly trained Mossad officer, remember?"

"What, they taught you how to resist the unresistable Abby-pout? Was that part of your training?" She huffed, crossing her arms again.

You smiled at her adorable out. "I was taught how to resist the charms of pretty women, yes." You laughed. "Resisting the 'Abby-pout' was not a specific lesson, however."

"Don't believe you," she muttered, eyes on her heavy black boots.

Her sudden sullen mood confused you, and you tried to pull her out of it the only way you could think of.

"If I agreed to one date would you feel better?"

She looked up at you, sad hazel eyes hopeful. "You really mean it?"

You nodded. "One date." You held up a finger to emphasize your point.

The same sly grin from earlier was back, and she jumped up and down once. "Yes! I can work with one date!" Her mood was no longer sullen, but her usual perky caffeine-induced excitement. You suddenly realized what had just happened.

"Abigail!" You exclaimed. "Did you just… trick me into going out on a date with you?"

Her eyes feigned innocence and she scuffed a show on the linoleum floor. "I wouldn't say tricked. More like… guilted."

"It is the same thing!"

"Is not!"

"Yes, it is, Abby!"

"It doesn't really matter now, because you've agreed to go out on a date with me!" she said in a sing song voice as she skipped away from your glare.

"A date, a date, a date," she hummed as she skipped to her computer and began typing, occasionally sneaking a glance to where you stood at her desk, bright smile lighting up her face.

You, a "highly trained Mossad officer", had just been duped, by a forensic scientist. A cute forensic scientist, but all the same.

One date. It wouldn't kill you, would it? It hadn't killed anyone else- yet, at least.

Her humming followed you out of the lab as you made your way back upstairs.

"A date, a date, a date…"