Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Good morning, guys!" Ziva said cheerily as she strode into the office, dressed in cargo pants and a leather jacket. Under that was a loose shirt, of the color that reminded him of apple cider. Her face was slightly flushed from the "crisp and clean" air outside, and she was smiling. A scarf around her neck kept her looking normal, rather than a biker or something.

Since she was in such a good mood, of course he had to ruin it. Her face fell as soon as he plopped the files on her desk. Immediately her mood worsened, and she started glaring knives at him.

Whether out of the beginnings of revenge or actual concern, she questioned him about the past night's dinner with his father, which of course had not happened, due to mistakes on Senior's part.

He gave her a look that tried to tell her to drop it, and that they would talk privately together later, but McGee wanted to know as well. So her let the pent-up anger and annoyance flow.

Throughout the rest of this especially trying case, he had little attention for coworkers other than trying to get information out of them. Well, he didn't even try to get information out of Ziva. And, he did notice when Senior held Ziva and kissed her on the cheek. That bothered him. Oh, and the man did imply that he should break rule twelve and "sweep this gorgeous creature off her feet".

And then he was finally able to see the case to its close, and share a Thanksgiving dinner with both of his fathers.

Senior and Gibbs both insisted that Tony needed some space, and so he returned to his apartment alone.

Apparently, Ziva didn't agree because when he walked into his apartment she scared the living daylights out of him by materializing behind him.

"How did it go?"

"Jeez, Ziva! I'm getting up there in years and you're just taking them off!" He attempted to dodge with a joke. She merely looked at him. "It went pretty well. He hadn't actually left yet, and we ate some turkey together. For us, that is very good."

"I am glad," she said, and walked past him to sit on his couch. She hadn't yet changed out of her black shirt and cargo pants, implying that she had come over to his empty place right after work. Now that he looked closer, he could see that she had located his small collection of novels, and had been reading Thom E. Gemcity's Deep Six. A microwaveable dinner was probably in the trash.

Tony joined her on the couch, a respectable distance to her left but close enough that the side closest to her still tingled. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him, now that he's broke again."

Ziva was silent for a minute as she thought some things through. "I will help him, Tony. I can probably at least find him a nice but inexpensive place, and put him in contact with a couple people to help get him back on his feet."

"No, I can't ask you to do that. He is my father, not yours." He instantly tried to take back his words, but she quieted him with a finger on his lips.

"He is like a dear uncle to me. I will help him this time," she asserted with finality. He sighed, and carefully put one arm along the top of the couch behind her. The finger slid off of his lips.

"Thank you, Zi." Something came over her then, because she moved his arm off of the couch to circle her waist and rest on her right hip. They remained like this for almost five minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. His mostly concerned his father and what he could currently feel strapped to her side.

"Tony," she began, a thoughtful look on her face.

He interrupted her before his courage could be overrun by hesitation.

"Why are you carrying an extra knife?"

A/N: A cliffhanger! Sorry! Enjoy your Thanksgiving!

Review, please?