"I'm going to get a drink. Can I get you something?" Tony leaned in and asked Tori as she stood next to him. He deliberately didn't mention his short conversation with Charles to her. Instead he carefully watched and tried to gauge her reaction.
"Definitely," she answered easily and quickly brushed his fingers with her own before he walked away leaving her standing with her former lover.
Tony walked over to a long table set with hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne. He grabbed a small plate and idly walked along, placing some of the bite size food on the plate. After taking a glass of champagne, he stood off to the side and watched intently as Charles continued to speak to 'Victoria'.
As he put his plate down on a tall table set off in a corner, one of the museum security guards came to stand next to him. As Tony turned his head, the guard spoke in French-accented English. "You're with Tori, right?"
"Umm, I think so," Tony said absently, looking at the guard quickly before his gaze returned across the room to where she stood.
"I thought I recognized you," the guard told him. "You were here a month or so ago. I remember seeing you walking the galleries with Tori. I'm Georges."
"Tony," came the short reply. "I wasn't here that long. I'm surprised you remember me."
"Tori doesn't walk through here with many people. She's usually alone." Georges explained. "Are you a curator or are you the reason she's been so happy lately?"
"I'm definitely not a curator, Georges, and right now I'm not sure I'm the other either," Tony replied with a nod towards Tori and Charles.
"You think she's interested in him?" Georges asked with surprise while looking over at the pair.
"They used to date, live together, the whole thing," Tony said in explanation without looking away from Tori.
"Sans blague? He doesn't seem like her type," Georges replied.
"He was her type when she was in college in Paris," Tony asked pulling his attention away from Tori and putting it on Georges. "How do you know her type?"
"I don't really, but I'd say I can guess," Georges answered. "I knew Jeremie for years. Tori helped get me this job when I retired. I would say she's much more interested in you."
"What makes you say that?" Tony asked.
"I doubt she keeps looking over here at me," Georges said with a laugh and then asked. "Why are you here talking to me when you could be talking to her?"
"Georges, I really don't know," Tony answered. "Thanks."
Tony left his plate and empty glass on the table and then picked up two more filled champagne glasses. He walked over to Tori, who was now standing alone and handed her one.
"I thought you deserted me," Tori told him as she accepted the glass.
"No. I was talking with another one of your admirers," Tony replied as she looked at him, her eyes questioning. "Georges."
"And what were the two of you discussing?" she asked with a smile.
"The art; the weather; good places for lunch," he answered skillfully, and avoided telling her the real subject of their conversation. "I came all this way and got a new shirt and tie, Victoria Theriault, the least you can do is show me this exhibit of yours."
Tori laughed quietly, tucked her arm in his, and led the way down the hall. When they had walked through the entire showing she took the empty glass from his hand and placed it down on a table with hers. She then led him through a crowd of people and murmured greetings as she passed. "Where are we going?" Tony asked as they stood near the coatroom.
"Home," Tori said and reached in his jacket pocket for the paper she put there after checking her wrap when they arrived.
"Home?" he asked and watched her nod in reply.
"Are you okay?" he questioned further.
"I'm just ready to go," she said with a small smile.
"Keys," she said and put her hand out as they approached his rental car.
"Keys?" he repeated. "Why?"
"Can you find your way in the dark?" Tori asked.
"I think I can manage," Tony replied his face serious. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine…really," she answered.
"Thanks for going along tonight; I know you weren't looking forward to it," Tori said as she tossed her purse on a small side table as they entered her apartment. "If you weren't here, I'd probably still be there."
"And getting all sort of proposals from a former lover," Tony said off-handedly and took off his jacket as he walked over to the stereo. He turned on the radio; it was still tuned to a jazz station he had found earlier in the day.
"Tony…," she said with exasperation as she followed him into the room and kicked off her heels.
"Sorry, it just slipped out," he sheepishly answered. "Aren't you hungry, you didn't eat anything?"
"Starving. I'm going to get something now," she replied as she eyed him closely.
Tori walked into the kitchen and dug around in the refrigerator pulling out a few containers. Tony stood aside and watched as she got a pan and dumped some rice and vegetables followed by two eggs and what looked to be soy sauce.
"My version of fried rice," Tori announced turning around. "Interested?"
"Always," Tony said. Tori handed him two forks and brought the pan to the table.
"You eat this way?" he asked surprised.
"Sometimes," she responded with a laugh. "Why?"
"Well," he replied in between bites. "You're a girl."
"I told you, I'm low maintenance," she said with a challenge in her eye.
"So am I," Tony answered with a grin.
"Low maintenance is one thing you will never be, Anthony DiNozzo," Tori shot back.
"And yet you still see me and take my calls," he retorted.
"Good thing you can make me laugh," she said as she got up and placed the empty pan in the sink.
"I'm not doing too well with that lately," he stated.
"Can we just move on and enjoy the rest of the weekend?" Tori said quietly.
"Fine with me," Tony answered and led her back into the living room where a soulful jazz tune was emanating from the radio. "Do you dance, Victoria?"
"I have been known to on occasion," she murmured as he pulled her close. "This seems more listenable than danceable."
"I'll lead; just go with it," he whispered in her ear and then kissed her.
"I've missed you, Tony," she replied and rested her head against his shoulder.
