Chapter One; Naughty or Nice

She stared at him curiously, wondering what made him come to work everyday. Was it the thrill of holding a gun? No that thought was rather haunting and overbearing for anyone. The babes? Doubt it, they had seemed to had dropped off his list ever since the incident with Jeanne. Was it the GSM "Christmas" issue- labeled Naughty and Nice- which he happened to be reading now? What did he see in those girls? So they were beautiful! That does not mean a thing. His thoughts deserved better than that pile of scum he was getting high off!

He stared at the picture curiously, wondering about her, thinking about her. Her luscious hair out and flowing, over her coat, which was hiding her smokin' body- not something you would usually see in a GSM magazine.

Gibbs walked into the room, threw down a file and grabbed his coat and "gear." The rest of the team instantly followed, as if the orders did not need to be verbal anymore, just assumed.

Tony closed the magazine and locked it in his top drawer before scurrying to the elevator. Pathetic, thought Ziva, As if anyone is wanting to steal that childish magazine from you Tony! She rushed after the closing elevator, narrowly placing her hand in between to stop the doors. Tony gave her a playful smirk. Her returning glare was as cold as ice. His expression seemed dissolved by this unfriendly gesture. The rest of the team noticed it too. She felt a stinging sensation to the back of her head.

"Play nice."

The elevator buzzed as the team passed forward from around her. All except for Tony. Despite the cold feelings from her, he still smiled. Standing behind her, her breathing and heartbeat stopped. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and he leaned closer to the side of her face.

"Promise me something," he barely whispered. Too stunned and dazed to speak, she just nodded.

"Don't kill me?"

He left from behind her and kept walking. Imagining the cute confused expression that should be on her face, he resolved to walking backwards as he threw her the keys- his way to make amends for whatever it was he had done. She playfully glared at him- my driving isn't that bad.

Back in the bullpen, Tony stared at the working Ziva puzzled. What had sparked that coldness earlier this morning? The magazine was back on his desk again, and like this morning was still opened to the same picture.

"DiNozzo!" she almost screamed as she thudded down the phone onto the receiver. His name and the thudding made him jump.

"Yes sweet cheeks?" he replied, his answer drenched with irritation.

"Do you mind not staring at the naughty girls in your magazine and help me with the case?!"

"I'm waiting for a phone call if you don't mind Dav-id!" his voice suddenly full of anger. Why is she pissed with me?! I haven't done anything wrong! She has no right to get angry at me! His phone suddenly rang and he answered it before it had sounded a second time.

"Oh hey Sam, how've you been?....No I'm not busy....I'll come and pick you up.... Okay.... Bye-bye," and a very pleased Anthony DiNozzo placed the phone gently back on the receiver. Ziva made her way- obviously pissed- across the bullpen. He stood up- trying to look taller and more confident.

"Who was that?" Ziva asked bitterly.

"Samantha," he replied defensively.

"Who is she? One of the naughty girls from GSM?"

"Why do you care so much huh? You've been pissed at me all day and I wanna know what the hell I've done to deserve it!" Both had obvious anger in their voices and body language.

"You spend your time reading these stupid magazines, getting turned on by these promiscuous women! Instead of working you spend your time looking filth!"

"So that's it huh? That's why you're pissed?! That phone call- Samantha- she works for the FBI! We are not allowed access to their files since it's in their main jurisdiction, I was getting us a way in with an old colleague of mine! And the promiscuous women you're talking about? Most damn beautiful woman I ever saw!" Throwing down the magazine onto his desk, with a Polaroid picture, holding itself in the spine. It was the picture of her in Paris.

"It's a 2003 issue Zee-va! Different guy!"

Obviously upset, confused and angry, Tony stormed off to the elevator with his gear. Ziva was motionless- so disorientated and dumbfounded. The picture had been of her. And she had accused him of his old ways. She felt awful. After all of the work they had helped each other through lately, her irrational and unjustified outburst just set them back farther.

She went over to her desk and ninja kicked it. Ziva then resolved to throwing everything off the desk, before limply shrinking down the edge of her desk. How could I have thought he was back to that? Back to his old old self? I've ruined everything. Again. And out of all the women in that magazine, he wasn't staring at any of them. Only me.

She reflected back on his words, "Most damn beautiful woman I ever saw!" Her hands easily found her heavy head as they cradled it. Her eyes were shut tight- a way to ruin the possibility for any tears. A hand suddenly reached around her shoulders, pulling her close. For a moment she thought it might have been McGee or Abby. But it was Gibbs.

Her head flopped onto his strong shoulder as he stroked her back. "Basement? Bourbon?

Bar? Break? Back-off? I'm running out of B words David," he chuckled. So did she.

"They work for you. I just need to get out of here. Thanks anyway," she smiled as she collected her stuff and left. It was snowing as she got in her car. McGee finally came up from Abby's lab. Gibbs just shook his head and laughed at him.

"McGee what have we got?"

"Urgh... boss I um," McGee stuttered.

"You telling me you and Abby got nothing together?"

McGee seemed dazed over the words you, Abby and together in the same sentence. Gibbs signature slapped him. McGee snapped out of an obvious daydream mode.

"Yeah pretty much boss."

"What the hell were you guys doing down there?"

"Um well I wanted to hide while Ziva and Tony figured out what was kind of eating at them both."

"For an hour?"

"Yeah sorry boss. Right on it boss." He typed quickly on his keyboard, bringing up a number of screens on the plasma. Gibbs gives his distinctive glare.