Title: Roses of the Rainbow

Summary: Roses come in so many different colors, and each one has a unique meaning. What do they mean for Tony when giving them to Ziva?

Disclaimer: I am so extremely flattered you think that NCIS belongs to me. But if that were true, would I really be writing this? And wouldn't Tony and Ziva be together already? Oh well, maybe for a graduation present…

This is my first fanfiction! I'm really excited to know what you think of it! This will probably have about ten chapters, each for a different color rose. I know this idea might be a little weird, but I always loved when my mom told me how my dad gave her a different color rose each time they went on a date. I thought that was really cute, so I just changed some details and this is what I ended up with.

Roses of the Rainbow

Chapter One: Friendship

It was never easy. Not for a minute. From the moment she stepped out of the elevator for that first time, walking up to my desk and having the nerve to ask me if I was having phone sex, I knew I was in trouble. When I found out she was Mossad, it just proved me right. She was witty, beautiful, and dangerous as hell. When I learned the reason for her being here, protecting Ari, I thought any chance of us becoming friends was gone. The bastard killed my partner; I knew he deserved to die. Later, when Ari was gone and she was thought of as part of the team, I let my walls down a little. I tried to become friends, but labeled it a lost cause; she was a closed book and didn't open up, at least not to me. That didn't stop me from making jokes and movie references though. But after a while, I thought the only thing that joking around was doing was earning me more head-slaps than I would like to remember. Then, slowly, she let me in. Finally the day had come.

I walked into the bull pen smiling slightly as I caught sight of her sitting at her desk. I was whistling the theme song of a classic T.V. show as I happily crossed over to her corner. I pulled a single long-stemmed yellow rose out from behind my back and placed it gently on Ziva's desk. She watched me wearily as I sat down in my own seat casually, as if I gave roses to her every day. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she picked up the rose, grasping it tightly between her thumb and pointer finger. She studied it through narrowed eyes, and I knew she hated how confused she was feeling at that moment. "What is this Tony?" She asked cautiously, as if afraid to know the answer.

I smirked and said innocently, "That's a flower Zee-vah. They don't have any in Israel?"

Ziva frowned and dropped the rose back on her desk, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know what I meant Tony."

I never got a chance to reply. Gibbs rushed into the room clutching his ever-present cup of coffee with McGee hot on his heels. "Grab your gear. We've got a case." I was secretly glad. That rose probably means a lot more to me than it does to her and I want to keep it that way. She would hand it back to me if she knew the meaning, saying it was silly and unnecessary.

Yellow roses represent friendship. I wanted something to make this friendship different than others. Maybe like a good-luck charm. I want it to last, and grow. At the very least, it would be great not to have her as an enemy.

...

Although Ziva would never say it out loud, she was oddly flattered by the unexpected rose. When they got home that night, after a long hard day at work, she filled up a vase with water, placing the beautiful flower inside it. She went to bed that night, thinking of how her room looked so much more joyful because of that one bright yellow rose.

...

The next morning, I walked into the bullpen hesitantly, afraid Ziva would do some crazy ninja stunt to get the reason for the rose out of me. I stepped forward, quickly spinning back around so she didn't surprise me from behind. I was strung so tightly, all it took was a tap on the shoulder to make me take a swing at someone.

My fist hit empty air though. Suddenly my feet were knocked out from under me and I landed on the floor, emitting a grunt of annoyance as my back hit the ground. My shoulders were pinned down and a knee was pushing on my stomach. Ziva looked as surprised as I must have. She quickly got off of me, saying as an excuse, "Sorry. Reflex."

"Of course it was." I ground out from between clenched teeth. I got up off the floor slowly, staggering to my chair and sitting down. She just watched me with amusement. The corners of her lips were twitching from the effort of not laughing. She turned around and sat in her own chair, finally letting a small laugh out.

"Something funny David?" I asked lightly, smiling at her happy, girlish laugh.

"No, no." She said, still snickering. "You Americans are just always so theatrical."

"Are you insinuating something?" I asked, feigning hurt. Then I felt a sharp smack to my head and watched as Gibbs made his way to his desk. "What was that for boss?" I shouted indignantly.

Gibbs paused to look over his shoulder at me. "You yelling at me DiNozzo?"

"No boss, what would make you think that?" I told him, quickly typing on my computer to make it look like I was doing something. I could sense Ziva's silent laughter as Gibbs walked upstairs to the director's office. When he was gone, Ziva grinned at me, and I felt myself smiling back. And right then, I knew that our friendship would hold.

So how was it? Please review and tell me If you loved it, hated it, or are somewhere in between. I always enjoy constructive criticism, but please don't be unnecessarily rude. I mean if you don't like it, just don't read it.