Spoilers: None really? I mention a scene from Deliverance. This takes place pre-Aliyah, too

A/N: Okay, here's the setup, the next chapter will be much longer. This is pretty much my personal break from all the Tiva angst. Well, except for the end of Code of Conduct. That was awesome. Anyway, on with the fic…

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Do I Have to Paint you a House? (1/3)

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Tony leaned against the side of one of the outbuildings situated on the grounds and breathed in the fresh air of the outdoors. He could feel the sun seeping through the faded jeans and long-sleeve shirt he had donned that morning. He closed his eyes, seeming to focus only on the feel of the spring breeze in his hair and the sounds around him.

At least that's what it looked like to passersby, the truth was Tony's mind was focused intently on a certain brunette assassin. Would she show? Would she blow him off? She looked less than thrilled at finding out the description of the game she'd inadvertedly signed on for. Which surprised Tony because she was an assassin after all, shouldn't a day shooting at moving targets be appealing to her? Furthermore, when she squeezed the trigger there was no chance of serious injury or death arising. This was a good thing.

In fact, this was a perfectly healthily exercise for her. He remembered when they'd gone to a shooting range a few weeks ago to interview a suspect, his partner had been distracted by the young marines training with Berettas when she and he were suppose to be interviewing a suspect. Ziva had exclaimed, excitedly, that she hadn't been to the range in days.

Days? He had thought. Did she have to do this once every week? Was this part of Ziva's weekly routine? Pick up dry cleaning? Check. Vacuum carpets? Check. Empty a few clips and surplus Mossad-ninja rage into cardboard humanoid shapes? Check.

But no matter, her attitude would make today all the more successful for him. He had almost given up hope on the whole plan of ensnaring her help when the perfect offertunity fell right into his lap the day before. It all started when a stakeout he and Ziva were on went awry…

"How about you take a turn watching for our target?"

Tony tried unsuccessfully to pass his partner the pair of binoculars he was holding. Ziva made no movement to retrieve them.

She scoffed, "Target?"

"Petty Officer second class Leonard Kinney has been running a small drug ring on the USS Ingraham, that's part of the US Navy, by the way."

Ziva rolled her eyes and turned back to looking out the windshield with an almost lazy attitude. She now seemed to be directing all her attention to the crew showily painting their way down the dock, touching up the short polls that ran along the edged and the thick metal chains that connected them. Don't worry my ninja, he thought to himself, if your bored enough I can provide some action for you this weekend…

Instead of voicing his offer, Tony continued on, "Which is us, so it's kind of our responsibility…"

"Please," she replied, "running a drug ring? He is a tiny fish. Our time could be spent on much more important things."

Ziva had made no secret through out the stakeout that she thought the whole operation was pointless. And Tony had to agree they did stick out like a sore thumb in the Charger, how many people sat around in cars in shipyards? Navy cops, that's who.

"Small fish," he corrected her. "Who looks like he's out for a swim." He brought the binoculars up to his eyes. "Oh, I think that's him." He looked down to check the picture from the B.O.L.O. in his lap. "Oh, yeah, that's our guy."

Their target had a large duffel bag strapped over his shoulder and was making his way across the dock in front of them. He looked back and forth, scanning the area.

A young sailor in uniform approached Petty Officer Kinney, they moved to crouch beside a large crate. Tony snapped a few pictures of the exchange and muttered, "too easy."

"Can we move now?" Ziva demanded.

"Yeah, let's bring him in."

The cruised forward towards the two men. Their target looked up directly at the car and froze. His companion took off. After a moment, so did Kinney.

They accelerated and the car shot off after their prey, choosing too follow Kinney instead of his customer. He dodged between two crates and they had to swerve to avoid a collision.

"Get him!"

"I'm trying!"

They car was thrown into reverse and screeched as it was forced into a hard right towards where Kinney had ran. He looked back in panic and threw the duffel aside, when he turned forward he discovered a barrel in front of him. He jumped over it and veered towards the edge of the dock. Tony and Ziva's car smashed into the barrel and it was flung off to the side.

Kinney was now in the vicinity of the painters who yelled and screamed at the precession. He kept advancing and ran right into their mists, knocking one or two over in the process. He ran right between a truck and a stack of supplies, Tony and Ziva followed but their car was too big to squeeze through the space their prey had fled and they crashed into the table of paint buckets and supplies. The open cans flew up into the sky and then dropped back to earth, spilling their contents in their travels. The cans still sealed assaulted the Dodge Charger like cannonballs, the front of the car took the brunt of the attack but some made it to strike the windshield, Tony and Ziva ducked down on instinct.

Some of the cans were shot forward by the impact and one struck Kinney in the back sending him down with a one-way ticket to the ground.

Tony and Ziva emerged carefully from the car and towards their suspect, guns drawn.

"Petty Officer Kinney!" Tony yelled at the immobile man on the ground. "Show me your hands!"

The man did not respond and remained still. The two agents exchanged looks. Still holding onto his gun, Tony reached down with one hand to check for a pulse.

"He's alive," Tony announced. He holstered his gun and pulled out his handcuffs, using them to attach Kinney to a nearby pole. "And in custody." Tony looked back and for the first time and took in the sight of their car. The Dodge Charger's front was mostly covered by gray paint in verying opacities. The windshield was splattered and cracked and the front of the car was partly crushed, on the left side the place where a headlight was supposed to be was hollowed out. "You're calling Gibbs."

"Tony?"

The ninja of his thoughts broke his revere by appearing at his side; he jumped.

"Ziva!"

"I am here," she declared simply. Ziva stood before him like a solider awaiting instruction, ever the dutiful Mossad agent.

Tony collected himself and causally returned to leaning, this time supporting himself by his left arm. "Cool," he said, then cleared his throat.

"Where are your friends?" Ziva looked around, taking off her sunglasses and hooking one of the arms into the pocket of her jeans.

"They'll be here…" His voice was drowned out by the roar of an engine. A red truck appeared on the dirt road that led out of the trees and bowled into the makeshift parking lot beside which Tony and Ziva stood. Then engine died and two men jumped out. Tony finished, "…right now."

"Speak of Satan," Ziva said under her breath as the two men approached. Tony ran to meet them, Ziva followed. He forgot to correct her.

"Hey-Hey, my boys!" Tony greeted each man with a one armed hug, which they returned. Ziva hung back and observed them exchanging greetings.

"Oh, and this is Ziva! I talked her into being my partner for today," he exclaimed, throwing his arm around her. It wasn't exactly a lie…

"This is just great!" Ziva kicked the front of the Charger. Tony filched, Ziva did not seem to feel any pain.

"It's not so bad, Gibbs will only be…"

"Absolutely livid."

"Yep, pretty much. You're screwed."

Ziva moaned in frustration and delivered another kick to the car.

"Unless…"

"Unless what?"

Ziva looked up at her partner to find a smile plastered all over his face. It made her not hopeful, but uneasy.

"Unless," Tony began, "I was to say that I was the one driving the car..."

"And why would you do that?" She asked warily.

"Because you'd be doing something for me this weekend."

"What kind of something?"

"Oh, just joining me in a little activity I had planed for this weekend. Don't worry, I promise you'll get to keep your clothes on."

He laughed; she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm serious, no funny business. Scout's honor." He looked over her shoulder. "And you better make up your little mind, ninja, Gibb's is here, and he's not looking too pleased."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, and after a few seconds she uttered the single word that would seal their fate:

"Deal."

"And this here's Matty and Weasel."

Tony half excepted her to punch him the ribs at the sudden contact caused by him suddenly his putting his arm around her, or at least glare him into submission, instead she smiled and offered her hand to the two men. She smoothly said, "It is so nice to finally meet some of Tony's friends. He's told me so much about your little weekend games."

As Ziva shook both of his friends' hands, Tony took the chance to study Ziva as she was now. She was dressed in jeans and a plain fitted T-shirt. He hair had some of it's natural curl in it and was pulled back into a ponytail. Her expression was welcoming with a relaxed, effortless smile and her brown eyes held none of their normal intensity or the rage that he usually found directed at him. She looked totally non-threatening. Tony found it weirded him out.

"Well look at us here wasting daylight!" Matty exclaimed suddenly and halted Tony's train of thought. Let's get our gear and hit the course! We've got course number 3 booked for 2 o'clock."

"See ya in ten!" Weasel saluted and the two men jogged back to their truck to get at their equipment.

Tony used the arm he had enclosed Ziva in to turn her around and lead them down along the outside of the outbuilding. They turned the corner and onto a makeshift trail that had been beaten into the fresh grass. Tony and Ziva could now make out a symphony of faint popping sounds erupting in rapid successions off in the distance. And being that they were safely out of sight, Ziva shrugged off Tony's arm.

"Well," Tony drawled as he looped his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, "aren't you just a little delight?" He had half-expected Ziva to exert at least one glare of ninja fury, but instead she had been perfectly polite.

"Your friends seem nice," she replied simply.

"Lulling them into a false sense of security?" Tony accused. "I know this game."

Her lips curled up at the edges. "I should hope so," she said as she watched a team of players walk by them, "as I do not."

She seemed confident now, and Tony was glad. He needed her in a good mood and ready to deliver some well-crafted kick ass. If Mossad wasn't using her skills, he could sure as hell utilize them now. Although she wasn't so put together when Gibbs had demanded an explanation for the damages…

Tony looked over to see that Ziva's brown eyes bulged as Gibbs addressed her, she seemed at a loss for words or maybe she sensed silence might be a better option. She looked at her partner. So did Gibbs. Tony's mouth started to move, but no words came out. His face, he knew, had assumed the terrified look he usually wore whenever Gibbs' voice dropped that low and it, as usual, had given him away. Ziva's leg twitched unconsciously as if itching to kick him in the shins to shake the words out of him.

Gibbs' eyes, somehow, narrow farther and they both started spilling their guts. Once they had finished, Tony felt the Bossman's X-ray stare looking his up and down.

"That's pretty good," Gibbs said, though there was no approval in his voice. "Pretty stupid, he added. "And you left out one thing."

"What's that, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Who was driving."

Ziva looked at Tony. Tony grimaced.

"That would me." He raised a hand above his hand.

"I already guessed, DiNozzo," He looked at the two agents and smirked for a second before adding, "I want that report of my desk before you leave and don't you think for a second that's the end of it!"

Gibbs turned and stormed over to have a talk with their suspect, who was sitting up leaning against his pole. They shared a look and Tony could swear Ziva heaved a sigh of relief now that Gibbs' back was turned. Careful Zee-vah, he thought, Boss's got bat hearing. She seemed to think they'd made it though the worst of it and resigned herself to accepting the fact she would just have to suffer through whatever sub-par humiliation Tony could conjure for her.

Tony wasn't relieved yet, he knew the real action would come tomorrow.

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A/N: Reviews are more than welcome. :) I haven't written much NCIS fic, I hope their coming off even a little in character. And it gets better, this is all just the set-up.