Title: Dry Spell
Author: Tearsofamiko
Rating: K
Disclaimer: see first chapter
Spoilers: No
Summary: He's not sure, but he thinks he hasn't had a real date since...he was re-stationed in D.C.
"You are driving too slowly," she complains and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He's frustrated and annoyed and being in such a small space with her only is only exacerbating those feelings. He has no idea what he's done to piss her off so spectacularly, but he feels he should and that feeling, as much as her obvious anger, is transferring itself to his driving.
He weaves in and around cars on the Beltway, at least fifteen miles above the speed limit. It's reckless for him, but her prodding and complaining has his foot weighing heavier on the accelerator, gradually pushing the speed higher and higher. His eyes are narrowed as if in concentration but, really, he's not all that focused on the road. Instead, he tenses a little more as she huffs and he can hear her eyes roll and it pushes him a little closer to the edge. When she starts drumming her fingers on the door, he does a flying leap off that edge.
"What?" he snarls. It's the match thrown into the powder-keg.
"I cannot believe you were making up with someone in the building!" she says, not shouting, but the force behind the words is the same.
Her slip only confuses him for a second. "It's 'making out' and I wasn't. What gave you that idea?"
"The lipstick on your face was a good clue." He notices absently that she's not looking at him, that she has her eyes resolutely trained out the windshield.
"The lipst..." That gets him briefly, but he quickly catches on. "Abby was happy to see me. Haven't been down all week." He frowns and glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "Why's it matter to you?" It might be too much to hope that Abby's right.
She's quiet, doesn't respond for the longest time, though he can feel her anger still vibrating in the air. Then she shrugs nonchalantly and her voice is completely casual. "It does not matter. I do not need you distracted."
His jaw drops because, despite the fact he's innocent of her charge, he's shocked and vaguely outraged that she thinks he'd be that unprofessional. "My personal life stays out of the office."
"Oh, like you do not broadcast the details of your dates the next day."
His knuckles go white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel again and unconsciously presses a little harder on the accelerator. Neither Ziva nor he notices that his driving is now rivaling Gibbs, though with less finesse. "It doesn't affect my work," he grinds out through clenched teeth.
"No, you just make personal calls when Gibbs is not looking," she mumbles under her breath, but he still hears.
"What?" The single word is an explosion of outrage.
"Saturday!" she throws at him, finally turning in her seat to face him. "The first time in hours Gibbs had gone for coffee and you arrange to meet someone after work!" There's the barest pause after her words and his thoughts latch onto the revelation that Abby really was right about Ziva's reaction to the phone call.
"Ziva," he's earnest, almost desperate, because suddenly it's so important she know it was only Abby, his best friend and surrogate sister. "It was Abby that called that night." He takes his eyes off the road for a second, wanting to see her eyes.
"Tony, look out!" she shrieks, and he immediately looks forward, but there's no time and nothing to be done, because even brakes are useless now.
The sound of collapsing metal echoes around him as his mind goes blank.
A/N: He told her it was Abby. XD
collision –noun 1. the act of colliding; a coming violently into contact; crash 2. a clash; conflict
