Title: Queen of the King's Throne
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen
Genre: Parody, Humor, things like that
Pairing: None. Ziva/men's bathrooms, if you like that.
Warnings: Don't take me too seriously. That's all.
Summary: We know Ziva is rather fond of a men's bathroom or two. Why is that?
Spoilers: Friends and Lovers.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I've been meaning to write this story for awhile now. And I finally got around to it. What's scary is that I ended up with somewhat of a story/plot. Really frightening, considering the subject matter. Only I could succeed in that aspect, I swear to God. And that is a really awful title. I apologize.
It had all started out innocently enough. Ziva's friends were boys. They would run into the bathroom designated for males, and she would instinctively follow them, not wanting to be left out. She found that, really, men's bathrooms were entirely more her style. No flowers, no fancy hand lotions that smelled like old ladies, no stupid towels embroidered with smirking cats. No, men's rooms were all rough and musk, gray and granite, and most importantly, full of men and their goods.
Yes, Ziva liked to sneak a peek when no one was paying attention, ranking her friends against each other on her own scale of quality. Such a habit would get most girls in loads of trouble with loads of people, but Ziva was stealthy. Most of the time, no one was ever the wiser about her naughty activities. One time, however, her very own brother caught her in the act and confronted her about it. She, being the feisty little tiger she is, promptly let him know that she had been doing this for years, without having ever been discovered.
And there it was that the wheels began turning in Ari's head that his precious Zivaleh may just be a wonderful addition to Mossad, which is, of course, notorious for spies. Ziva's obsession with men's bathrooms had just earned her a position as an international spy.
And you would think that with all the time sneaking around furtively and killing people that Ziva did (because she is a multi-faceted woman, of course), she would have forgotten all about her little hobby, or at the very least, not had any free time to go around exploring new bathrooms and the men in them.
But this was an obsession. It was something that had been implanted firmly in her head, something that gnawed away at her every time she stepped into a ladies' room and was assaulted by the overwhelming stench of potpourri. And besides, it only strengthened her spy skills to continue the activity, plus it was always exciting to see the insides of men's rooms in other countries and even other cities. Every restroom was unique, was Ziva's motto. Okay, so maybe it wasn't her motto, but it was definitely something she had learned through experience.
So when Jenny Shepard asked her to be a Mossad Liaison officer with NCIS, she didn't hesitate in saying yes. The United States! Just imagine the men's rooms there!
However, she found that there was not really a good way to go about getting into the men's rooms in the US, particularly at NCIS. She often feigned mistaken identity – she thought it was the broom closet, or she just chose the wrong door for the women's bathroom. That was good enough at first; she was Israeli, English was a second language, and she had probably killed more people than all of NCIS put together. It was best not to ask.
But soon, the eyebrows began to quirk again. Not that they had ever stopped quirking in the first place, but they were quirking even higher now. What was with this mysterious foreign woman and men's rooms? Was she under secret orders from Mossad to infiltrate NCIS and there was some sort of signal that involved the men's bathrooms at NCIS? These things happened in spy movies all the time, and truth often is stranger than fiction. Especially in this case.
What was she supposed to tell them? She had an overwhelming fascination with men's rooms that urged her to explore them as often as she could? No, that would surely not work.
She got an excuse to enter once when Gibbs had her tracking down McGee. She came in and McGee was so shocked by her appearance, he didn't even seem to notice that she wasn't even nervous about being in there. If he had noticed, he probably brushed it off as her being unfazed by pretty much anything. That was how Ziva normally operated.
But it was more than just her brazenness that made her feel comfortable. She felt at ease in men's rooms, watching as men went about their business without any air of pretentiousness, unlike women's rooms, where it was all about appearances and make-up reapplication. In men's bathrooms, all she noticed was whether guys washed their hands or not.
Nevertheless, McGee was now terrified of Ziva following him when he went to the bathroom, and would sneak off when she was out of the room. Ziva had to laugh to herself about that. He was just so darn cute sometimes.
Tony, on the other hand, probably liked the idea of her following him into the bathroom. And that was mainly because he had sex on the brain 24 hours a day. That dirty mind was precisely what kept Ziva from following him. He was too easy. Literally. She needed more of a challenge.
Like Gibbs. But then again, she didn't have a death wish, so she would just leave that be.
Yes, it was a bit of an odd obsession for any woman to have, but Ziva was not like other women. She was raised primarily by her father and older brother and has spent her entire life in male-dominated professions. It only makes sense that she would be most at ease around men, where they feel their manliest, rather than a place most women feel ashamed to be.
She was proud to be a woman among men, and besides, she never had to wait in line for the men's room. There was always a stall open, which left ample opportunity for other things. After all, she hadn't made that rating scale for no reason.
THE END!