Oh yeah, Ziva's hot. And I mean hot. Like, Lara Croft on a motorcycle hot. She's got crazy hair, a killer body, and a temper to rival Bruce Banner's. Oddly enough, however, none of those things were the first to catch my attention.
I guess the right word would be "arresting". You want to look at her chest, but you can't. You want to look at her subtle curves, but you can't. You want to at least flash her a winning DiNozzo grin, but you can't even do that. All you can do is stare endlessly into her dark eyes, and wait for her to break it off because you don't dare look away first.
Okay, fine. I suppose she's intimidating. I'd never tell her that, of course. I value what's left of my dignity.
I honestly don't think I ever imagined I'd be with her, though. On her, yes. But with her? Never.
I guess we both got the wool pulled over our eyes for that one.
Ziva's... different. That's for sure. She's intelligent, fiesty, and has way more sex appeal than really ought to be allowed for one woman. Add that to the fact that she can (and will) kick anyone's ass and you've got one very happy Tony DiNozzo.
I don't use the word "love" lightly. I don't use it on a regular basis. But when I think of Ziva... that's what comes to my head. And if I look up the word "love" in my mental dictionary, and there's a picture of one Israeli agent with a dangerous glint in her dark eyes, hey, that's fine by me.