Analyst Sam Murphy was a very vain young man. He had transferred to the DC office just a few months prior and had immediately become obsessed with anything to do with Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Fortunately for him, they had much the same frame and, he had to admit, some extra crunches in the morning with a Slim-Quickly chaser did make the suits hang better on him. He'd lightened his dark hair to Sun-Kissed Salted Caramel and had taken to wearing colored contacts during his evening shifts, which led to an awkward moment when he had ended up in the elevator after hours with the subject of his obsession, who did a double-take before complimenting him on his shoes.
Just the other day, Sam had nearly wet himself with both excitement and dismay when Special Supervisory Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs mistakenly head-slapped him for goofing off and then nailed him to the wall with a glare which could melt metal when he realized he'd been duped by a junior analyst.
One more reason to admire and emulate the brave Senior Field Agent!
Sam had nearly perfected the hair and yet he couldn't get the irreverent flip in front quite right. Every time he thought he had it flipped, the flip flopped. Sam impatiently brushed his hand up his recalcitrant hairline to fix the flip yet again while vowing to try a different product asap. For some odd reason, Director Vance had been looking at him funny all day and he wanted to be looking his best. At least he had one of his better Zegna knock-offs on today!
When the flip flopped one more time, Sam frantically rummaged in his desk drawers until his hand closed around his electric curling brush. Rising from his desk, he scampered towards the bathroom. Sam ducked his head as Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo wandered by with his head in a casefile and then escaped into the lavatory to give his hair its very special flair.
Plugging the brush in and leaving it on the counter next to him to warm up. He unzipped and stepped up to a urinal. Sam ignored the soft sound of the door opening and closing. When the snick of the lock engaging registered in his head, his mind began to race in alarm.
"Tony, I have been meaning to tell you what you mean to me," a sultry voice, rich with either the Mediterranean or South American coast, he wasn't quite certain which, sounded in his ear followed by a tongue snaking its way up his neck while a hand slipped around his hip, seeking tender bits.
Sam whipped around to find Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's creepy and very dangerous ex-Mossad partner standing directly in front of him.
Her eyes widening in realization immediately followed by fury at being deceived, Ziva looked down in dismay at where he was still peeing partly in need and especially in fright. The acrid puddle forming at their feet grew. Grabbing the nearest available weapon, she snatched the brush up into her hands…
When they finally restored power to the building and broke into the men's room, they found two urine-soaked bodies still reflexively flipping and flopping in the renewed current.
Sam's hair never looked better.