Disclaimer: I own neither NCIS nor my own brain, which has been prodded into writing this by people with hot, pointy poking sticks. You know who you are.

Spoilers: Up throughCorporal Punishment. So, y'know, all that ever was and ever shall be. Unless the writers' union gets a contract.

Summary: Hit me baby one more time. Eh, it's late.


The pain was hardly noticeable anymore. Ziva stood in front of the mirror and pressed the yellowing bruise over her eyebrow with two fingers, watching the skin blanch before returning to the color Tony had referred to as 'purple jaundice.' She'd escaped the squad room by calling the feeling in her head 'purple haze,' leaving him to wonder how it was possible that any non-American could know who Jimi Hendrix was – or that was what she assumed he was thinking. "Hmph." Her grunt echoed off the tile in the restroom.

She was smoothing her hair when the door opened to reveal a vaguely familiar dark haired man. He looked around the bathroom suspiciously before saying, "Don't you usually follow guys in here?" When she turned to face him, he flinched. "Oh, head injury. I'll just…"

"I'm leaving." She brushed past the man who apparently worked at NCIS but whom she saw only under infrequent odd circumstances, saying over her shoulder, "Wash your hands this time!"

Tony displayed his infuriating gift for timing as he came around the corner just as she exited the bathroom. "Did you just come out of the men's room?"

"No." The last thing she wanted was to be teased about her failure to bother with the signs on the doors.

"You totally did."

"Do you still want me to test your six-pack?"

"No!" he shouted, taking a step back and wrapping his arms tightly around his midsection. He appeared to regain his confidence when she made no move to attack and fell into step with her as she walked back to the squad room. "Anyway, 'Purple Haze,' I know that one. 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy!" he concluded, singing the line.

"I thought it was 'Excuse me while I kiss the sky.'"

"Well, yeah, but the mondegreen is funnier."

She paused and plucked his sleeve to make him do the same. "The what?"

"Mondegreen. It's, uh, well…it's a word that comes from somewhere that means a misheard song lyric."

"You made up that word." She gave him a final once-over and resumed walking.

"Did not! Look it up on the internet if you don't believe me."

She paused at her desk to pick up her coat and backpack. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"Whoa, whoa!" He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the elevator. "And where are you running off to at this early hour?"

"It's 7:30."

He checked his watch. "It's actually closer to 8, but that doesn't mean the Boss will approve. So where're you headed?"

"Bethesda."

He raised his eyebrows as he grinned. "Oh ho. A late night follow-up visit with Super Marine for your case report? Are you going ask him if he has these strange new things that have recently been identified as…feelings, was it?"

"Tony…"

"Did you get all hot bothered when you were wrestling with him? Want him to shove you against the wall again? Maybe smack you around a little and call you a bad, bad girl who deserves a spanking?" He dangled his handcuffs in her face. "Want to borrow anything?"

She narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him slightly. "This is a fantasy of yours?"

He considered her for a moment before replying, "What would you do if it was?"

"I would hurt you." At his leer, she added, "And you would not enjoy it."

"I'm not the one into that stuff."

"Why do you keep assuming that I am?"

"Because you are the one with the killer ninja skills who is showing undue interest in the guy who gave you that attractive forehead shiner the first time you met. I suppose it would be a fun story for the grandkids, but…"

She cut him off, "He happens to remind me of a former teammate."

"Now, when you say 'teammate'…"

"I mean a colleague. And friend. His psychological recovery after being tortured did not end well." She shook her head to clear the memory of a gunshot just before she'd kicked in the door of Oded's apartment a moment too late. "I do not wish to see Corporal Werth end up that way. His family is in Michigan and, as they were unaware of his exact condition, will not be arriving for a few days; he should have someone to talk with in the meantime." She squirmed under Tony's smile. "What?"

"Nothing. Just amused by these feelings you've discovered. Pretty soon you'll be religiously watching Oprah and inviting me to go to chick flicks with you all the time."

"What makes you think I would ask you to a movie?"

He held out his arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "Because I'm the movie guy! If you suddenly want to go to a comic book convention, you can take McGee. Of course, I don't know if there are all that many girly comics where people talk about their feelings while having a good cry."

Ziva finished buttoning her coat and slipped both straps of her backpack over her shoulder. "Did they give you a prescription for pain medication at the emergency room?"

He pulled a pill bottle from his breast pocket and shook it. "Just call me Dr. House. Without the cane, of course. Hey, do you think I'd look cool with a cane? Because I think I could pull it off…"

She didn't bother with a response, slamming her fist into the middle of his stomach, doubling him over. He gasped, sputtering out, "What…was that…for?"

"I was taking you up on your offer from earlier. I stand by my assessment that you need more work."

"I can't believe…you get off…on this."

She lifted his chin with her index finger and leaned over to look him in the eye. "I will not deny that I enjoyed that very much. See you tomorrow."

As she stepped into the elevator, she heard him mutter, "Crazy chick."