This is just a little fan-fiction on some one-shots on what might have happened, what happened, and some imaginary events on Paris. Some of these things really happened, and some others didn't. I won't tell you, so good luck with it. Hope you like it.
"I am sorry, but there are simply no other rooms available. They only said two people would be staying, so we assumed they would be staying in the same room. Do you need anything else?"
Tony growled, and then replied "No, we don't need anything else."
He swung around, saw Ziva, and then muttered some choice curse words. He went over there, and she asked him, "So what are our room numbers?"
"Apparently, they only said that two people would be coming, so we get to share a room."
He started for the elevator, then stopped when Ziva grabbed his arm and demanded, "So what is our room number?"
"I'm not telling you that before I get all paperclips out of it."
She frowned, then smiled, saying "Paperclips aren't the only things you can kill someone with."
Tony shuddered, and then replied, "Well, it's the best I can think of, so come on, its room number 56."
They trotted up to their room, each contemplating who would take the couch.