Ziva was the first of the team to walk in the next morning, looking fresh and ready for the day. Until she turned the corner to her desk and saw Abby sitting patiently in her chair. She groaned, alerting the forensic scientist of her presence.
Abby jumped up. "Good, you're here. Sit and spill, sister."
Ziva's eyebrows raised as she edged around the already hyped girl with caution. "Why would I want to spill my bag? Then I would have to repack it."
"No, silly!" Abby said as she made herself comfortable on Tony's usual seat on the corner of Ziva's desk. "It means tell me about last night."
"Ah. Well, we know nothing about the case as of yet--"
"Ziva!" Abby squealed, interrupting the Mossad officer. "You are being purposely obtuse. What did the case interrupt? I want all the steamy details."
Ziva smiled as she pulled her thick hair into a clip and obliged her coworker. "I was out last night with a kind, extremely handsome man."
Abby sighed. "Tony."
Ziva frowned at her. "Not at all!"
The Goth tilted her head sideways. "You don't think Tony is extremely handsome?"
She refused to answer. "I was not on a date with Tony last night. We were each on separate dates and ran into each other."
"But you left together," Abby stated, persistently.
Ziva gritted her teeth. "We were called into work."
"Yeah, I hate being interrupted at the good parts," Abby said, cheerfully.
"Abby, why are you obsessed with myself and Tony?" Movement near her wall caught her eye as she watched her partner in question sail into their area. "Thankfully, Tony. Save me from the craziness."
DiNozzo dumped off his gear on his desk before walking to Ziva's. "What'd I miss?"
"The same thing I did, I presume," Ziva told him. "Our wonderful date with each other."
"Ah," he said. "Sorry, Abs, but you're way off base. I prefer women who can't kick my ass when provoked."
Ziva shot him a look. "Or are too dead brains to."
Abby laughed as she stood and walked towards the elevator to head to her domain. "One day..." she said as her parting words out.
Tony and Ziva frowned at each other. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
She just shrugged.
McGee swept around the corner in an apparent hurry. "Sorry I'm late, Boss. Traffic was backed up and..." he trailed off as he looked around then looked at his watch. "Oh! I saw Tony here and assumed I was running behind."
Tony made a face. "Ha, ha, Probtastic. You know what they say when you assume things."
McGee sat behind his desk and placed his pack on the floor while his computer booted up. "That when I assume something it's generally an educated guess that's right nearly 95% of the time."
"Wrong! It makes an ass out of you."
"And me," McGee finished.
Tony gave him a pleased look. "Exactly."
Ziva leaned over her desk to poke his arm. "I do not understand."
"It means," Gibbs said as he strolled into the bullpen, "your ass needs to get in gear, DiNozzo."
"Go back to the crime scene to see what the light of day brings. Got it, Boss."
"David."
"Interview neighbors, re-interview people from last night. Push for some answers."
"McGee, go with them. See if you can get anything out of that technology crap the victim had."
"It's called a computer," McGee told him with a smile. He got a blank look in return. "On it, Boss."
Gibbs tossed the keys to the vehicle which, much to the disturbance of Tony and Tim, Ziva caught. While the elevator doors were closing Gibbs heard Ziva ask, "What about assuming makes you a donkey?" He smiled despite himself.
After wasting minutes of their precious lives trying to explain the common English phrase to their Israeli counterpart both DiNozzo and McGee decided to give it up for their own sanity.
Ziva was frowning as they entered the parking garage. "I am still confused."
"Don't worry about it," Tony told her. Then he looked at McGee. "Shotgun!"
She immediately grabbed her gun and crouched down, keeping her eyes peeled. "Where?" she hissed at him.
Both men stopped and looked at her for a brief moment before Tony started laughing. "Not a real gun, Zee-vah. It's an expression."
She slowly stood and re-holstered her gun after giving serious consideration to shooting both of her coworkers. "That is a stupid expression."
McGee cleared his throat. "It comes from the times of horse drawn wagons and carriages. The handler of the animals had to keep both hands on the reins so a passenger generally rode next to him carrying a shotgun to ward off attackers."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Thank you, McHistory Nerd."
"History's interesting, Tony. It tells us where we came from. And I thought Ziva's driving scared you."
Tony grimaced. "The thought of it wakes me in a sweat at night. But I've weighed my options and have concluded given the structure and airbags of the vehicle I stand a better chance of survival in case of a wreck in the front seat."
By that time they had reached the naval SUV. "I have not wrecked yet, Tony," she reminded him.
"All the more reason to be safe. The odds are greater now than they were before."
"Why?" she asked.
"Why?" he repeated. "Why? It's the American way, Ziva."
"I am not American."
"You work for America, in America, with Americans. Principle still applies. Plus, sitting up front gives me access to the tunes."
She slapped him hand away from the power button. "No radio."
He frowned at her. "New car rule, Ziva. Passenger gets radio privileges."
"Ah," she said, wiggling a finger at him as she tore out of the lot. "But this is not a new car, Tony."
"Smart ass," he commented as he managed to get the radio on.
--Silk suit, black tie I don't need a reason why
Ziva popped his hand, turning off the song.
"Aw, it's ZZ Top," Tony protested.
--Gold watch, diamond ring I ain't missin' a single thing
She grabbed his hand between his pointer finger and thumb, causing him to yelp in pain.
"Uh, Tony," McGee said from the back. "Maybe you should give it up. Ziva needs to concentrate on driving, you're not going to win, and, honestly, you're making me nauseous."
Tony shot him a dirty look as he shook his hand. "If you're going to blow chunks don't you dare do it in this direction." He dared to hit the power again but when Ziva struck he was ready. He gripped her small hand in his, knowing he would be severely punished as he sang along to his favorite verse.
--Top coat, top hat I don't worry coz my wallet's fat
Black shades, white gloves
Lookin' sharp and lookin' for love
They come runnin' just as fast as they can
Coz every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man
With human impossibility Ziva moved her hand from his grip and twisted his hand to the point it brought tears to his eyes. "I yield! I yield!" he yelped.
McGee decided to help out. "Uh, Ziva, I think Gibbs might not want Tony to come back damaged."
"He would probably understand if he knew I was being forced to listen to ZZ Top Hats." But she let him go.
Tony prudently shut off the music and cradled his injured extremity. "You just have no taste for good music," he sulked, flinching as she reached over to put the vehicle into park.
She gave him a solid look with her dark eyes. "Perhaps you should learn not to argue with a trained Mossad officer, yes? I have scarred men for life for less."
The two men moved out of the confines of the car without making a sound.
Once inside the unit McGee made his way to the small room housing the desk and computer. Since neither Tony nor Ziva would know if anything would be considered peculiar in there, they left the office to their resident computer freak.
Tony heaved his pack higher on his shoulder as they headed to the back of the place. "I'll take the bedroom."
Ziva rolled her eyes as she went directly to the bathroom connected to the room Tony was taking. "Why is it you have to be in every pretty woman's bedroom?" she asked as she put on her rubber gloves.
He threw her a grin. "It's just a knack of mine. So, you admit you find her attractive. Could it be that you want to be the one in the woman's bedroom?"
She made a noise of disgust. "How could someone take so much medicine? Alprazolam, clonidine, zolpidam, lithium carbonate, sertraline. What is all this for?"
"I dunno. That's what Ducky's for."
She bagged the medicines covering the sink and continued to search the cabinet above it. "And to answer your perverted question, no. Just because a woman is comfortable enough to admit another woman is pretty does not mean we want to have sex with each other."
Tony decided there was nothing of interest- to the case, at least- in the dresser and moved to the bedroom dresser. "It would be hot, though."
Ziva poked her head out of the door and, seeing he was close, reached out her hand to Gibb's slap him. "You are a hog."
He stopped what he was doing to look perplexed at her. "What?"
"A hog. You know, oink, oink."
"Do you mean 'pig'?"
It was her turn to look confused. "That is what I said."
"Never mind."
Ziva reached with her hand to the high shelf of the cabinet and grasped the flat square package up there. "A-ha. Birth control. That's odd."
"What?" Tony asked, absentmindedly.
She had opened the pack to see it was started but the last day it was taken was a Sunday. "Seems she missed a few days."
"Huh. Maybe she figured since she had no man here there was no point."
"There are plenty of medicinal reasons for a woman to take this pill."
He shrugged though his partner couldn't see, then closed the drawer to get on his knees to open the cabinet part of the stand. "Maybe she forgot."
"Tony?" she said from the doorway, holding the bag containing the pack. "She had not had this filled for nearly four months."
"A-ha!" he copied Ziva, pulling out a book. "A journal." He tried to open it to find it was locked. "I think I saw the key in her underwear drawer. See, it's a good thing I'm so through." He looked up to see Ziva still holding the bag. "What about her other prescriptions?" he asked as he crossed back to the dresser.
She looked and frowned. "The same."
Tony found the key to the journal and opened it, a black and white photo floating to the ground. "Uh, Ziva," he said as he picked it up and studied it.
"Yes, Tony."
"I think I found the answers to our questions."
She stepped towards him. "What is that?"
"An ultrasound."
