A/N: I have to say that I've been staggered by the response to this story. Huge thanks to everyone who has story alerted, favorited and taken the time to review. I hope you continue to enjoy this uncomplicated little tale.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

To focus attention

Their next two kisses more thought and planning behind them, although not much.

Two weeks after the Parking Lot Kiss That Had Not Been Acknowledged, Tony and Ziva found themselves on a stakeout in a surprisingly clean and up market apartment building. On his last stakeout, Tony spent eight silent, uncomfortable hours with Gibbs in a room the size of a small bathroom. After that day he swore that he would never do it again. He'd run his mouth, he'd make deals, he'd fight and curse and dig in his heels—whatever it took to get him out of it. His avoidance tactics had lasted one year and two months, and with two probies (who weren't really probies) under his belt, Tony was sure that he'd be able to pull rank and keep avoiding them for a long time to come.

He wasn't at all surprised that Ziva was the one responsible for bringing his dream run to an end. And yet, Tony couldn't muster the energy to be irritated with her. Ziva had spent the day in a playful mood and on some days that felt like an all-too-rare occurrence. So, he'd forgiven her indiscretion in favor of encouraging her.

…

Earlier that day

Tony and Ziva walked shoulder-to-shoulder behind Gibbs as they entered the grounds of the retirement villa. It was a Sunday morning so the grounds were full of families visiting parents and grandparents, and few of them glanced in the direction of the three casually dressed agents. They were there to quietly gather information on a nurse who had cared part time for a Marine requiring physical therapy who'd recently been found dead of a drug overdose.

Team Gibbs didn't want Nurse Jacobs to know they suspected his involvement, fearing he would flee before they had grounds to bring him in for questioning. They wanted to discreetly find out what his current patients thought of him by unofficially questioning a few of them. But before they'd even had a chance to split up, a sunny woman approached them with a welcoming smile and way too much interest.

"Morning!" she sang, adding a wave for good measure. "Can I help y'all this morning?"

Tony and Gibbs barely had the chance to form half a plan between them before Ziva swung into action. She quickly threaded her fingers through Tony's, turned an equally sunny smile on the woman, and came out with a flawlessly broad American accent.

"Oh, hi! I sure hope so," Ziva said, and held out her hand. As the woman shook it, Ziva introduced 'herself'. "I'm Ellie."

"I'm Lucy, one of the admitting nurses here at Cantebury Pines," she said. Her eyes fell to flick over Ziva quickly, as if sizing her up, before she flashed another sunny smile. "Are you here to see a relative? I might be able to help you find them."

Ziva shook her head, and then looked up at Tony with an expression that conveyed great regret. Tony wasn't sure what she had planned but he knew well enough to follow her lead. He gave her a sympathetic look in response and Ziva squeezed his hand before looking back at Lucy.

"My husband and I have been talking to Dad about maybe moving in here," she said, injecting just the right amount of guilt into her voice to make her sound conflicted. "We just thought we'd come by and have a walk around. See what it's like." She paused to favor Gibbs with a fond smile. "Dad retired from the Navy a couple of years ago, and I think he misses his shipmates."

That would have been enough to amuse Tony for the rest of the day, but Ziva took it so much further. She placed her hand gently on Gibbs' forearm, and then raised her voice until she was almost shouting.

"Isn't that right, Dad? You miss your Navy buddies?"

Tony held his breath and prepared to drag Ziva out of the way of a headslap her grandchildren would feel as their boss sent her a steely look. Tony knew as well as Ziva that Gibbs was promising all manner of hell to be rained down on her as soon as they left the grounds, but for now he just went along with her ruse and nodded in reply.

Ziva patted Gibbs' arm and looked back to Lucy. "He doesn't talk much," she shrugged.

Lucy gave Gibbs a kind smile of the sort most people reserved for the very, very young or the very stupid. "We have a lot of residents here who have spent time in the armed forces. But I have to say, your father looks quite young to be moving into the facility."

Ziva leaned towards her just slightly, as if preparing to share a secret. "He's not as young as he looks," she said quietly. "He had a little…" She paused to pull back the skin of her face with her hand. "…a few months ago. Took about 15 years off him. Don't you think, babe?"

Tony could only trust himself to meet her eyes for a second, in case the laughter bubbling in his throat was set free. He quickly looked to a stormy faced Gibbs and gave him an appraising look. "Yeah, it's much better now that the swelling's gone down. It's actually some pretty good work."

If looks could kill Tony and Ziva would have been dead on their backs.

Ziva gave Lucy another conspiratorial smile. "I think he's after wife number five."

Tony almost choked, and he squeezed Ziva's hand in warning. Too far. While they may have gotten away with simply being shot and buried in Gibbs' backyard before, now they were probably going to be chopped up and fed to wild dogs. Ziva seemed to sense her mistake and leaned into the imagined safety of Tony's body under the intensity of Gibbs' stare.

"Anyway, would I be able to talk to you about the facility while Dad and Paul look around?" Ziva continued, moving on quickly and setting herself up as the distraction while Gibbs and Tony did some low-key questioning.

Lucy didn't seem to notice the silent conversation happening between the three people in front of her, and gave them another bright smile. "Oh, sure! Go ahead. Why don't you come up to the office with me and we can talk a little about your dad's needs and how we can help."

"Great," Ziva said, and then turned to Tony. "I'll just be a little while. Keep an eye on him?"

"Won't let him out of my sight," Tony promised.

She leant in to give him a very brief kiss that was over before Tony could enjoy it, and then turned back to Gibbs and put on her loud voice again. "Go with Paul, Dad. I'll be right back."

At Gibbs' nod, Ziva kissed his cheek and then quickly joined Lucy as they made their way towards the main building. Tony turned his back so that he could let go of the smile he'd been swallowing for the last five minutes, and then chanced a look at Gibbs' stone face.

"Not a word," Gibbs warned.

Tony covered his laugh by clearing his throat. "What? I was just going to say that she's really good at undercover, and that she should get to do that more often."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes until Tony started to wonder if he had the power to kill with his mind, and then cocked his head to the left. "Get to work, Paul. I want this case wrapped before I fire your butts."

…

Now, hours later, Tony was beginning to wish that Gibbs had fired them. Surveillance work with Ziva in a good mood was infinitely better than being stuck in a tiny room with grumpy Gibbs, but at the end of the day he was still stuck in one spot and wasn't allowed to leave. It was hard work for a guy whose initials were A.D.D.

And the most annoying part was that they shouldn't have been there at all. It was pouring with rain and the general rule of stakeout thumb was that rain kept everyone—including bad guys—inside and out of trouble. It was highly unlikely that they would gather any evidence from watching Jacobs' house tonight and Gibbs knew it. And yet, here they were.

He knew he should have been pissed at Ziva for going too far and dragging him down with her. But her fake accent, fake bubbly mood, the brief kiss and the line about Gibbs' possible fifth wife had wiped that away. His partner had amused him to no end.

"So where'd that accent come from?" he asked, glancing over at her.

Ziva's head lolled tiredly to the side to rest against the back of the armchair she was in as she looked at him. "Oh my God, Tony. I'm, like, totally a trained spy," she told him, breaking into her Valley Girl accent again.

He shook his head. "That sounds so weird coming out of your mouth."

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Good thing I put it on."

"Why's that?"

"I know Lucy."

Tony's head swung around to look at her. "How?"

"She lived near me when I lived in Silver Spring," Ziva said, stifling a yawn. "I always saw her at the coffee shop down the street from me."

"Did she recognize you?"

Ziva nodded. "But she couldn't place me. She asked me if I went to NYU."

"What did you tell her?"

Ziva gave him that coy smile that always gave him a charge. "That I was a Buckeye."

Tony's surprise only lasted a moment before he grinned widely. "Did you really?"

"A Buckeye would not joke about something so important, Tony," she lectured, enjoying the smile on his face and the fact that she'd put it there.

A knock on the door interrupted them before Tony could work out how much OSU knowledge she'd soaked up over the years. With her hand resting on her gun, Ziva shot a side eye at Tony.

"Did you order pizza when I was in the bathroom?"

Tony shook his head. "No, it'll be the singing telegram I sent out for."

Ziva sighed. "You and your showgirls."

They stood and approached the door, guns drawn. Ziva watched Tony closely as he carefully checked the peephole, and when his shoulders slumped she knew there was no danger. He holstered his gun and wrenched the door open.

"What're you doing, Probie? Ziva almost shot you."

McGee stepped past Tony into the room as water dripped off his shoulders onto the hardwood floor. He looked between his colleagues with a frown. "Why? Because I knocked on the door?"

"You should've called first, McGatecrasher. I would've cleaned the place up." He gestured around at the furnished but uncluttered apartment. "Well, I would've made Ziva—" He cut himself off as the predicted punch landed on his arm.

Ziva closed and locked the door, and then headed back to her chair. "I thought your shift did not start for another two hours," she said to McGee.

McGee gave them a grin that was part sheepish, part indulgent. "Actually, my shift is cancelled," he said. "Gibbs said that once you guys are done there's no point keeping watch. No one goes out in the rain."

He was met with five seconds of deafening silence while his colleagues weighed up whether to laugh or open fire.

"Really," Tony finally drawled, jaw pushed out and eyes narrowed.

McGee held up his hands. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger."

"Then whom should I shoot?" Ziva asked menacingly.

McGee replied without thinking. "Well, technically you were the one who pissed Gibbs off, so—"

Ziva was on her feet again in a flash and McGee took an involuntary step backwards. Tony stepped between them and spread his arms to keep them separated.

"Ziva, he doesn't know what he's saying," Tony said calmly before turning his best WTF face on McGee. "Bad Probie! You know better than to provoke the wild beast."

"Especially when she is hungry," Ziva added with just enough snarl to make McGee back up another step.

"Sorry," McGee muttered.

Tony returned to his comfy chair by the window. He fell back into the cushions and then checked the viewfinder of the camera trained on their suspect's apartment window. "You should go get us dinner for your sins, McGee."

McGee dug into his pocket and pulled out a candy bar. "I got a Nutterbutter you can share."

The look of disgust that Ziva shot the candy bar was more than enough to tell Tony that the Nutterbutter was all his. "I'll take it."

Ziva sighed and dragged her hand through her hair. "I need air. I am going in search of real food. And McGee," she paused and shot him a glare, "can stay here until I make my way back."

"Sure," McGee sighed, knowing an argument would go to waste.

Ziva grabbed her hooded raincoat and slid it on. "Tony, do you want me to pick up a sandwich for you while I am out?"

Tony heard his name, but not the question. He was busy trying to rip open an uncooperative candy bar wrapper with fingers that somehow seemed like they were all thumbs.

"Tony?" Ziva prompted, louder this time.

'What the hell?" he swore at the candy bar, before sticking the corner in his mouth and trying to rip it open with his teeth.

"Tony!"

The wrapper gave way and Tony spat foil out of his mouth. He ripped the foil further apart in his fingers, and with his chocolate finally liberated he was able to provide an automatic response to Ziva yelling at him.

"Yeah, sounds good," he said, taking a gamble that agreeing with her would be the right answer anyway.

He was about to stick the candy bar in his mouth when Ziva's fingers pressed against the side of his chin and forcibly turned his head towards her. Then, before he could even yelp in protest, she pressed her mouth against his for the second time that day. The kiss was longer than the one he'd given her in the parking lot. Long enough for him to register the warmth of her lips and how soft they felt, but not much else. When she pulled back again, she hovered just inches in front of him and then repeated her question with just a hint of amusement glinting in her eyes.

"Do you want me to pick up a sandwich for you?" she repeated deliberately.

Her kiss had the desired effect, with Tony now focusing on every single word she spoke. He nodded and tried hard to keep his eyes on hers instead of dropping them to her lips. "Yes, please. That would be very nice. Thank you."

"Okay," she said, and then gave his cheek the gentlest of smacks before straightening up and walking away.

Tony watched her until the apartment door closed behind her, and then his eyes fell on an extremely amused McGee.

"So, I guess you two are—" McGee started, but Tony cut him off quickly.

"No, we're not," he said sharply. "She was just playing dirty."

"Didn't look that dirty," McGee cracked.

"Shut up, McNosy," Tony shot back. "Or else your mint condition 1977 Han Solo Barbie doll is going to find its way onto eBay."

McGee sighed and settled into Ziva's vacated seat. "You really need to give those back to me," he said, referring to all the action figures that had gone missing from his apartment over the long weekend.

Tony picked up the binoculars and looked out the window. "Not until you've learned your lesson," he said. He focused in on Ziva as she dashed across the street and used the cover of shop awnings to keep her dry as she headed up the hill to a convenience store. Had she been planning that kiss as payback? Or had it been a spur of the moment kind of thing that—

"What lesson?" McGee was asking him.

Tony tried to wrestle his thoughts back to their conversation but found it too difficult to focus. Ziva had rattled him good. "I can't remember," he admitted. "But it was important."

"It's theft," McGee pointed out.

Tony sighed and tried to think of a signature DiNozzo come-back. He couldn't. His head was completely empty save for thoughts of Ziva's lips and the knowledge that the next earthquake their relationship felt was going to be a big one.

Oh, and that stakeouts weren't nearly as bad as he remembered them to be.