Chance meetings
"Wanna a drink?"
She gave the man a sidelong glance and replied curtly. "Get lost, blondie."
He simply grinned and sat at the bar beside her. "Relax. I'm not trying to pick you up."
"Really?"
The guy nodded cheerfully. "Yep. Truth is, I just wanted to let you know that your partner is in serious trouble right now."
"What?"
"Your friend over there – the one who's striking up a conversation with the petite brunette in the corner."
"He's not my partner. As far as I'm concerned, he can pick up any woman he wants."
The stranger smirked annoyingly. "Because you two are just colleagues, correct?"
A frown creased her brow. "How do you know…?"
"Don't worry, officer. I have no intention of meddling with your undercover operation – whatever that is. Are you with the intelligence, by the way?"
"NCIS. How the heck did you guess that?"
"Never mind. Point is, you shouldn't allow your colleague to flirt with that woman. It would be a pity if he ended up with a broken nose, don't you think?"
She caught a glimpse of his wedding band at long last. "Damn. You're the husband, aren't you? I'm sorry, Tony is just being an idiot – as always."
He considered her words for a while, then shook his head. "She's my best friend. My wife died many years ago."
"Oh."
"It's a long story. Anyway, I'm not the one your friend should be afraid of."
Exactly at that moment the brunette punched her unwanted admirer in the nose and strode away.
The blonde guy grimaced sympathetically. "Too late now."
"Your best friend has a terrific right hook. Is she a boxer?"
"Senior special agent with the CBI. Now, if you excuse me…"
He hurried after his lady cop as she stepped out of the bar.
Ziva allowed herself a small smile before joining a whimpering Tony across the room.
The stranger had somewhat implied that she might be in love with her partner, but she suspected that the same applied to him and his fierce companion as well…