It was 2 in the morning when Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo arrived home. He locked his front door behind him, dropped his bag to the ground and sighed. As he looked around his apartment Tony could tell that something was slightly off but he was too tired and hungry to care. Spending the past few days in Mexico, observing Alejandro and keeping Mike Franks, his boss's former boss, in check wasn't exactly the nicest vacation he'd ever been on. Then there was the whole matter of getting gunned down in a public market by some of Reynosa's men. He saw Franks get shot but somehow managed to lose him in all the chaos.
He stood there a moment, flashing back to that market until his stomach growled at him. "Alright, alright," he said to himself.
Tony walked into his kitchen, turned on the light and stopped in his tracks. His kitchen was completely spotless and that was definitely not how he left it. His brain was telling him that he needs to check out the rest of the apartment, but his stomach was telling him he needs to check out the fridge. As always, Tony's stomach won the fight. Looking in the fridge for the chinese food he had the night before he left, he realized that it wasn't there. 'That's funny,' he thought to himself, 'I know I left it in here.'
And that's when he heard it.
A creak coming from the hallway.
It was a tiny creak, but a creak nonetheless.
Forgetting about his pizza and protesting stomach, he quickly grabbed his gun from its holster, whipped around, pointed the gun in the direction of the noise and said, "Freeze!"
There, before him, stood his sleepy eyed, messy haired partner, Ziva David.
"Put your gun down. It is only me," she said, rubbing her eyes.
Tony took a moment to look at her. She was standing there in his apartment in pajamas, her hair was a mess, and she's rubbing her eyes. Plus, she'standing in his hallway and all that's back there is a bathroom, an office and his bedroom. His bedroom. The only room back there that has a bed in it is his bedroom.
He didn't have much time to dwell on the fact that one Ziva David was sleeping his bed because said person was standing there waiting for a response.
"Oh. I thought you were some crazy person who decided to break into my apartment just to clean it."
He could see that she was fully awake now. Her head was tilted slightly, eyes playful and her mouth was in a little smile that he always found adorable. Ziva and adorable aren't exactly two words he'd ever use in the same sentence when talking to her or anyone else. But in his own private thoughts, he used it all the time.
"Last I checked I am not a crazy person. I did not break in, you gave me a key a while back. And this place was extremely stinky and dirty when I got here," she said. "I thought I would clean it up some for you."
"So you also thought my bed would be lonely?"
That's where he caught her. Ziva cast her eyes downward and her face was slightly on the guilty side. Tony could tell that she was trying to think fast of something to say. Her thoughts were obviously failing her so she continued to stare at the floor.
"Well," he said, moving back toward the kitchen to find food, "at least you kept my bed warm. Did you leave me any thing to eat?"
Feeling relieved that she didn't have to tell him the real reason why she was staying at his apartment, Ziva perked up and followed him into the kitchen. "Nothing that you can just throw in the microwave. You will have to cook something," she told him.
Ziva hoisted herself on the counter as Tony resummed his rummaging in his fridge and cabinets. She took a moment to watch him as he threw things around and whined about seeing nothing good. He looked tired and run down. His trip to Mexico was not good for him. She could see the worry lines on his forhead from the situation with Franks. Not knowing if he was dead or severely hurt was eating Tony on the inside. It was evident all over his face.
Having heard enough of Tony's complaints, Ziva hopped down off the counter and said she would cook for him. After one little protest, which really had no effort in it whatsoever, she managed to kick him out of the kitchen and started looking through the cabinets and fridge herself for something quick and easy.
Tony, who was extremely happy that he wouldn't have to make anything to eat, stretched out on his couch and flipped on the television. "Ahhh, finally. Some quality shows that I understand."
"What did you say?" Ziva asked as she popped her head around the corner. "Nothing," Tony said. "I was just talking to myself." She gave him a funny look like she was going to say something but disappeared back into the kitchen anyway.
He returned his attention back to the television but he wasn't focusing on it. He was focusing on the person in the other room and why she was staying in his apartment. Tony didn't have much time to think about it before the smell of pizza assaulted his nose. He jumped up and almost ran into Ziva while running into the kitchen.
"Whoa," she said, "slow down. It's not going anywhere. Plus, it's going to be a few minutes. I only just now stuck it in."
"Nooooo!" whined Tony. "But I'm hungry now!"
Ziva just grinned at him. She loved his childishness sometimes. Most people just found him annoying, but that's because they didn't know him like she did. His façade may be the childish playboy who never does any work, but beneath all of that he was completely different. He was a man who had lost people that he held close to his heart, fought to stay alive and keep those that he loved, been let down way too many times to count, knew too much heartache, pain and suffering and yet he went out of his way to try to make people smile. His childishness was a coping mechanism and a way to make other people happy even when he couldn't be happy himself. She came to realize this after working with him for five years. She wished everyone else would see this too.
"Hello! Paging Ziva David to Earth. Paging Ziva David."
Tony's voice startled Ziva back to reality. Feeling slightly embarrased about zoning out, she shifted her eyes away from him. And it was a good thing she did because she happened to glance at the clock above the sink and exclaimed, "Oh my God! The pizza!"
Both of them ran towards the stove. Ziva flung the oven door open while Tony grabbed something to take the pizza out. Setting it on the counter, he exhaled a sigh of relief. "It's only slightly burnt around the crust," he said as he started grabbing plates.
"Well, then it's a good thing you don't eat the crust."