Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was getting frustrated. "Yes, DiNozzo. Big D, little I, big N, little ozzo," he repeated into the phone for the fifth time. He was on the line with a man from his credit card company. So far it had been hour and a half of going in circles and producing no answers.
"I know that I didn't buy a diamond necklace, tampons and ice cream. I don't even have a girlfriend right now," Tony pleaded. "I just want to know more about the charges that were made to my card last night."
"I'm sorry sir, give me another minute," the man on the phone replied. A few moments passed and the man came on the line again. "Mr. DaNezzo, I need to put you on hold but I will be with you again momentarily." Tony slammed his fist on his desk. Across the bullpen Ziva was smirking at her friend. Her fellow agent was always a source of entertainment.
"Having some trouble Tony?" she joked. He looked like he was about to shoot someone and all Ziva knew was that she was not going to let it be her. She had a date tonight with a FBI agent and there was no way she was going to show up looking less than perfect. That would just give their opposing agency more of a reason to gloat and boast about their "superiority".
"Yes Ziva, I am having some issues and one of them is an incompetent help line operator," Tony stage whispered as he covered the receiver. The last thing he wanted was for the man to come back, hear what he had said and put him on hold again out of spite.
"Oh yeah?" inquired Ziva. "What are your other issues? Besides the fact that you are incapable of reading the labels that people put on their food and that you have unfinished paperwork dating back to last month."
"Ok, the paperwork isn't done because I have had very important special agent work to do that required me to be away from my desk. Plus my dad showed up again out of the blue for a visit and you know how he is," Tony replied. "Thank God there was a pack of Oreos in the break room that some unlucky fellow forgot, so I had something to snack on before I took him home. I think they had a note on them but I didn't bother to read it. I figured my cause made me a charity case and gave my free grazing privileges." The male agent paused and paled as he realized what Ziva had said about reading labels on food. "Wait, do you know whose Oreos they were? Oh my God they weren't Gibbs' were they? I can handle McGee, but if they belonged to the boss then I might as well hand in my badge and get a new identity. I could even move to Mali maybe…"
Ziva glared at her co-worker. "Yes, I know the identity of the owner of the Oreos. I am greatly offended that you did not even consider me and even more so that you do not seem to fear the possibility of my wrath. I could kill you 18 different ways with a standard office paperclip."
Tony considered Ziva's response. "Well that's true, but if they were yours then it's not THAT big of a deal. We're a part of the same team. We share everything. Su casa es mi casa."
"Oh is that how it works Tony? Well if that is the case it is time I made a confession. I palmed your card last night and made a few purchases," smirked Ziva as she sashayed out of the bullpen. "Do not eat other peoples Oreos."
