"This is absurd!" Ziva groaned, holding down the hem of her dress as she was pushed into the restaurant.
"Shut up!" Lauren shoved her playfully, grabbing the Israeli's elbow and dragging her to the bar across the room. "Listen to me," The blonde started, "You look absolutely gorgeous and these guys will be falling all over you and me cause let's be honest…" She giggled, spinning around for Ziva to check out her outfit.
"I am not sure about this," Ziva bit her lip, thinking intently when the bartender came straight over.
"See," Lauren nudged and stifled a laugh when he asked Ziva if she saw anything she liked.
"I will have a mojito, please," Ziva ordered, slouching over to see if the hem of her dress would stay lower.
"You're fine!" Breena exclaimed, walking over to both of the girls.
Lauren grabbed the two drinks of the bar, handing one to her sister and waiting for the bartender to finish Ziva's order. Once he returned with the mojito, the three girls took off to the table set up at the end of the room. Ziva complained the whole walk over, Lauren pinching her to stop being a wuss and signed themselves into the event. Quickly writing her name on the sticky name tag which barely came out more than chick scratch, Lauren unpeeled the tag and stuck it on her left breast.
"There," Lauren smirked, noting the look on Ziva's face.
"Did you just squeeze my breast?" Ziva gaffed, wondering when the hell she last felt a rush of desire streak through her body. This is not happening right now.
"Your boob, relax! Holy shit, we need to get you some sex tonight," She remarked back, Breena pushing her sister to the side and a sign to stop.
"I do not need any sex!" Ziva's foot stomped on the ground, mimicking a young child having a tantrum.
"Really? You just got all bent out of shape cause I slapped your boob with a name tag," Lauren laughed, sipping at her margarita.
"For your information, I do have plenty of sex!" Ziva tried her best to sound matter of factly.
"With who? Dinozzo?" Lauren raised her eyebrows.
"I have never-" Ziva bit her lip quickly. Nope. Could not deny that.
"Was he good?"
"That is none of your business," Chocolate brown orbs glared Laurens way. God damn it, this girl was too snotty. Nosy? Nosy.
"Ugh! Fine, I'll get it out of you when you've had more to drink," Her friend tried, pushing Ziva down at a table. "Here, you'll be here and I'll be right here next to you!" She clapped her hands together, taking a seat at the table a few feet away.
"This will be my entertainment for the night!" Breena laughed, standing away from the girls as the host of the event started speaking into a microphone.
"Alright ladies!" The host exclaimed loudly, "Why don't you all get seated where you would like and we'll bring the guys in to start,"
Women around the room scurried to different tables, fixing their outfits and hair. They were prepping themselves for an event that would be certainly different than anything else most of them had done before, including Ziva. She wasn't too sure about all of this happening, but she was used to living on the edge, except for these past two years. She had become accustom to the adrenaline rush that wound her body up when climbing mountains and swimming in the beautiful waters of Greece, the life of traveling and having your breath taken away by the sight in front of you. Her mind didn't recall the adrenaline rush from interacting with people at events, the strange feeling of someone actually wanting to talk to her. It hadn't felt that way in what seemed like forever.
"Oh, he's cute! Eh, definitely not!" Ziva could hear Lauren whispering as the men all walked into the room, smiling around at all of them. She shook her head at her friend and leaned back to glance at Breena, who had started her way back to the bar again.
"Men, please start by taking your seat at any available table!" The host spoke again into the microphone, "Once you're all seated, you'll have five minutes to woo the woman in front of you. When times up, you'll move to the next table and five minutes will start again."
Ziva listened to the host explain the evening of speed dating and watched a man with blonde hair approach her table, taking a seat. He looked relatively young compared to her. If things went anywhere, she would get the lioness status that women were declared when they went for younger men.
"Hello, I'm Michael." He smiled, holding out his hand to greet her from across the table.
Oh shit, not THAT name. "Ziva," greeted. As quick as the mere mention of his name, memories cascaded through her cranium from 2008 when she came home from Israel with a man her father desired for her heart. Shots firing, the echo in her ear drumming louder and the visions of Tony laying on the ground, covered in shards of glass next to Michael blurring her sight.
"Are you alright, sweetheart? I've been talking to you for the past minute and you haven't answered anything I've asked you," Michael asked, his Australian accent making her smile.
"I am very sorry. My mind is not in the right place tonight," Ziva sighed, trying to get herself together. "What did you ask again?"
"I asked what you do for a living, you know, for work?" His smile was charming, but everything about him just seemed so young. He rolled up the cuffs of his dress shirt, his biceps showing through the tight material and Ziva giggled to herself.
"I was an agent. But, I decided to take the past two years off to…" She searched for the words, wondering how ridiculous she must have sounded to this poor guy, "I took the past two years off to find myself. I got so caught up in the job and everything, I needed space… if that makes any sense,"
"That sounds wonderful," Michael smiled at her, "It's always good to look for the beauty in life, although I must say, you don't need to look to very far."
Ziva blushed, squirming in her seat a bit. God, how this was so foolish. You are acting like a school girl, Zivaleh! Get your shit together. "What about you, Michael?" His name rolled off her tongue in a heavy accent, "What do you do for a living?"
His grin was a large, "I'm a male dancer," and Ziva had to bite back the laugh in the back of her throat when he flexed his muscles for her.
"A male dancer…like a stripper?!" She exaggerated, trying not to laugh at how completely obvious this should have been to her from the way he looked.
"Why yes, I do take my clothes off for a living. Does that bother you?" He looked at her skeptical.
She made a mental note of ignoring all of the comments that Tony would make, coming to her mind to distract her from the event. "No, not at all. I just have never met a male dancer before,"
"Then it's your lucky night! You've found your own personal Magic Mike," He smirked and winked at her quickly. She shook her head, annotating the disgusted look on Lauren's face from the guy she was talking to. Great, he would be on his way to her table next. And Magic Mike here, clearly had no intentions of a future with anyone here…only a one night package to help out his own defined, very, very defined package.
Michael leaned forward, urging her to meet him halfway. "You know what they say about the Australian anaconda, right?"
"The what?" Ziva furrowed her brows together. She didn't understand American idioms, let alone this young and keen lad from Australia throwing his own at her.
He tilted his head down, flashing his eyes back to hers to see if she would catch on. "They're terribly big… humungous actually, and once they find their perfect pray…" He leaned closer across the table, inches from her face, "They keep returning, addicted to prize they have found with a bite so powerful."
Ziva's mouth dropped and flinched her head back away from him, "Oh," She didn't even know what else to say. Luckily, the host spoke again through the microphone and saving her from the awkward moment that would have come.
"It was nice meeting you, Ziva" Michael smiled once again, leaving the table and moving on.
Ziva shook her head at Lauren who mouthed "How's it going?" to her. The man from Lauren's table quickly sitting down in front of Ziva.
-x-
Tony drummed along the steering wheel as he sat at a red light, waiting to turn into the bar and lounge. He didn't feel like going to any crowded bars tonight, he just wanted to wallow away at the closest one to his apartment. One he spent so many nights weltering in after cases, humming along to the music with Zi-
No, no, not again. Stop saying her god damn name, Dinozzo.
His foot tapping along the brake pedal, waiting for the light to turn. In his waist holder, attached to his belt, his phone vibrated and he peered at it quickly, hitting ignore. Zoe was most likely asking if he was home yet, so she could come over and bug the shit out of him some more by pestering about the desk incident.
The traffic light flashed green and Tony peeled quickly into the parking lot, finding the closest spot for him when he came to retrieve his car after a few.