This was my WEE (White Elephant Exchange) gift for Sondheimmcgeek. Forgot to post it here. Ooops!

One of her prompts was "Roman Holiday" (in a nutshell: Tim and Ziva-centric, romance/possible case file, Rome). I'd intended it to be a longer multi-chapter. Alas, a painful encounter with a fish tank...thwarted my original plans.

The story hasn't been proofread. Sorry for errors of any kind.

Anyway, the story: enjoy!

Ziva spent the length of the transatlantic flight poring over Tim's latest novel, only setting it aside for the meals and a nap.

Also, there'd been moments when she'd reclined in her seat, eyes closed, wondering about when she – and let's not forget about the others who'd been just as much at fault – had acted so downright nasty at the time he'd published his first novel, Deep Six : The Continuing Adventures of L.J. Tibbs.

Oh, he'd bent over backwards reassuring them ad nauseam that his characters had absolutely not been based on them. Tibbs, Lisa, Tommy, Pimmy and Amy were entirely fictional and had nothing in common with his real life coworkers. Of course, everyone within NCIS HQ knew what a bad liar he was and he'd known it. Granted, he'd somewhat caricatured them, which wasn't such a nice thing to do with the people you had to work with on a daily basis, year after year. It didn't matter he'd had his characters work for a fictionalized federal agency. They hadn't appreciated Deep Six, period.

When he was working on his next novel, Rock Hollow, they didn't even bother bringing the subject up anymore...until...people got killed because of it when a crazy fan had laid his hands on the carbon film ribbon for a sneak peek and mistook fiction for reality.

After that, things had gone very quiet around Thom E. Gemcity and nobody really seemed to care. That was, until his literary agent, Lyndi Crawshaw, passed him an invitation to sign his latest book...in Rome!

And McGee had asked Ziva if she would like to accompany him on this trip. After all, she'd been placed on administrative leave pending an internal investigation after she'd delivered another agent's boys a rather painful blow and called him a liar just at the most inopportune moment possible: during an official visit of the Secretary of Navy and the Ministers of Defense and Justice. Oh, the team unanimously agreed the 'victim' had more than deserved it.

So it happened she didn't need to think twice and eagerly accepted her friend's proposal. Whilst he was going to be pretty busy signing books at the fair, she'd do some browsing around the Eternal City. And since this wasn't going to be a quick trip to Rome, they'd both enjoy to the fullest the sights and sounds of this capital that once was the heart of the Roman Empire.

Oh, Tony hadn't wasted a moment poking some fun at the whole trip and even made some meaningful faces, after ascertaining himself Gibbs wasn't around when he did. It was quite obvious he was rather envious of their pending holiday...together.

Ziva had been excited in spite of the looming investigation into her unprofessional behavior. She trusted her coworker. After all, McGee was such a gentleman.

It had all happened so very last minute. Barely two days had passed since being forced on an imposed vacation when she got this inviting call from McGee. Not a week later, they were both flying out to Europe.

-o0o-

The location of the hotel they were booked into for the trip was perfect. Its location was in a very old, albeit rather...forbidding narrow street where you had to be on your guard if you didn't want to get run down by a Vespa! Not at all the kind of location one would expect a 4 star hotel, anyway. However, it was at a stone's throw from the main attractions and the Palazzo di Pallotti, where the 2nd International Book Fair was to be held, was a mere three blocks away.

No, it was not exactly a wow location; yet, the Via dei Pettinari, with its dark, terracotta colored buildings, did ooze charm and history, and they both liked this quite unique atmosphere very much.

Upon arrival in their hotel room, Ziva kicked off her shoes and vanished in the bathroom to refresh.

Tim flopped onto one of the twin beds, long legs over the side, hands resting on his stomach, and, heaving a deep sigh, he closed his eyes as he reflected upon this trip.

If he were honest with himself, he'd have to admit to feeling a little bit nervous. Just a little bit. Little tendrils of anxiety invading his mind. It wasn't the first time he'd been at a book fair promoting his work. No. But it was the first time he was to be present at one across the Big Pond...in Italy...where people spoke Italian...and he hardly knew any Italian at all! Granted, he could make an order of pizza quatro stagioneor un filetti di petti di pollo sound as Italian as he could but that was as far as it went. Scusi. Prego. Grazie. Si, no. Oh, and he could count till 10 in Italian, per favore!

His chest deflated as he let out a heavy sigh.

He didn't notice Ziva entering the room, dabbing her face dry, nor the amused smile gracing her lips as she covertly watched him.

He suddenly jerked up straight as an idea occurred. He'd downloaded this World Nomads translator apps for some reason, right? Oh, and when he'd stepped into the elevator, yesterday, Tony, a secretive smile on his tanned...Italiano gigolo face, had waved a small parcel the size of a pocket book in front of his nose. He then proceeded by grabbing Tim's free hand (the fingers of his other being curled around the shoulder strap of his backpack) and placing the...gift...into it.

The Pocket Idiot's Guide to Italian Phrases.

He groaned. He wasn't really annoyed by the ludicrous title. Nope. It was just...why hadn't he thought about those linguistic aids when he had plenty of time on his hands to actually do something useful during the flight? Like...memorizing some phrases and useful key-words?

Alas, it was too late for that, now. Surely most Italians were more than capable at conversing in English? Unless... Wouldn't they be more fluent in French? Or German?

Gah!

With a grunt he got on his feet and retrieved his backpack, which he'd wearily deposited beside his wheeled travel bag, and started rummaging for the folder which contained all the documents pertaining to this trip. Holding an email print in his hand, he sauntered over to the French windows which opened to a lovely courtyard and started to read it.

Ziva, feeling somewhat refreshed, drew her Samsonite to her bed and lifted it onto the covers to open it.

"So, what are the plans?" Ziva asked, lifting a nice, cobalt blue gown from her suitcase.

Tim looked up from the email he'd drawn from the folder.

"'Kayyy... Let's seeee... It's almost dinner time and, I don't know about you but I'm starving. Now cosy as this little hotel may be, they don't serve dinner. I suggest we ask the girl at the front desk before we go out. Maybe she'll be able to recommend a cosy little restaurant."

"Good. Priority number 1; dinner. Now, how about the rest of this weekend?" Ziva asked with a slight nod towards the sheet of paper he held between his fingers.

"Oh! Well... On Saturday, June 29th – that's tomorrow - the local crime writers will be the presenting their latest books from 10am until 12pm...which means we'll have all morning off and plenty of time to do some reconnaissance and get familiar with the area. I'm expected to be present all afternoon from 1:30pm till 5pm when I'll be signing copies of "Eight Bells Till Death". Besides selling – hopefully! - copies of my latest novel, I'll have to participate at a discussion with the ever-entertaining Glenn Cole, a cartoonist. Same routine on Sunday. But after that... Rome is all ours! Let's make the fullest of our week in this historic if chaotic metropolis! There's a wealth to explore! The Colosseum, the Forum Romanum, Piazza Navona, the Capitoline Museum, the..."

"Are you sure one week will suffice, Tim?" Ziva laughed, deftly fastening the clasp of her necklace before tossing her hair back with one elegant hand.

She looked into his – now dreamy, yet enthusiastic – eyes as he thought of all the wonderful places to visit...maybe even thinking about more?

He blushed and turned back to gaze into the courtyard below.

"I get it. It's on your list of the things to do before you die, yes?"

"Well...yes," Tim replied.

Suddenly, he felt her slender arms circle around his waist and he quite relished the feeling. Back in DC, they were so very careful displaying their feelings.

"Then let me tell you a secret: Rome was on my list as well."

"It was?" Tim asked, feeling a strange hope settling in.

Ziva nodded, her loose hair falling across her face. She let go of Tim and stood beside him. He turned his face towards her and carefully took a stray lock of her glossy auburn hair to gently tuck it behind her ear.

"Ever since I saw...Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck."

"A classic," Tim grinned.

"Tim..."

"Yeah?"

"I..." Ziva cleared her throat self consciously. "Could we include a ride on a scooter through the city?"

What?

Tim's eyebrows instantly went up. Did he hear this right?

"Uhm... Are you sure? I mean... Isn't this a bit too risky? I'd prefer to make it home again in one piece, if you don't mind, Zee."

"Worth a try, isn't it?"

She hooked an arm in Tim's as they turned away from the window again.

"We'll see," Tim chuckled, returning the email to the folder and dropping it on the credenza, next to the information map the hotel provided for its guests.