Deputy Director Eli David paced the catwalk of NCIS with a twenty-two year old Israeli woman looking down at the bullpen. More specifically she was looking down at three agents in the bullpen
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McGee was sleeping, his hands still on the keyboard, and his head on his desk.
Tony was leaning on Ziva's desk, case reports surrounding him, as he too was in a deep slumber.
Next to Tony was Ziva David, their legs intertwined and her head resting on his chest, with Tony's arm around her waist, pulling her tightly to him. She was snoring softly, as she had only been faking the loud snore during their time undercover, most likely to annoy Tony.
Special Agent Gibbs strolled through the bullpen, only to find his team sleeping. He sipped his coffee before slamming the cup on McGee's desk, awaking him with a jolt.
"Um, hi boss," He said nervously.
"McGee, can you tell me what Ziva and DiNozzo are doing?" He asked calmly.
"Um, well, well it looks like, like they're sleeping, Boss," McGee stuttered, looking down the tangled pair on the floor.
"I know that McGee! Why are they sleeping?" growled Gibbs, cringing at the taste of his coffee.
"Um, maybe they're tired, Boss?" asked McGee nervously, but Gibbs had already left to stand next to sleeping pair.
Gibbs took the lid off of his coffee and poured some of the steaming liquid onto the pair of napping agents.
Both Ziva and Tony separated immediately and shot up like rockets.
"Gibbs, was there no other way to wake us up?" exclaimed Ziva, angry at the coffee stain on her vanilla white blouse.
"Nope," smirked Gibbs.
Ziva growled and made her way to Tony's desk, where he was already changing shirts.
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Eli watched his oldest daughter interact with Anthony DiNozzo. He saw the way DiNozzo chuckled at Ziva's outburst and the way they were curled up together.
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"Tony, do you have a shirt I can borrow?" asked Ziva.
Tony lifted his head from the drawer of shirts and looked her over.
She was wearing charcoal jeans, with her coffee stained vanilla blouse. Her hair was wavy, and loose.
"Sure," he replied enthusiastically, at the thought of her wearing his shirt.
Ziva picked up on this, and rolled her eyes.
"Do not get any ideas," she warned.
"I would never!" exclaimed Tony, in mock-hurt, clutching his heart with his hand.
He dug in his drawer of shirts until he pulled button-up shirt, black, with thick red stripes.
She looked at it, scrutinizing it, until she shrugged and went into the women's bathroom to change.
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Five minutes later Ziva came out of the bathroom with Tony's shirt on. Tony kept his eyes glued on Ziva as she re-entered the bullpen. Ziva, however caught onto this quickly, and made her way to Tony's desk.
She leaned forward on Tony's desk, their noses inches apart.
"See something you like, Tony?" Ziva whispered.
Tony looked her up and down.
"You know, you should wear my shirts more often." said Tony, in whisper also.
Ziva just smirked as she walked back to her desk, unaware of her father watching her on the cat walk with someone that she had thought died.