A/N: All right-y, folks, you're getting warmer – sex vs. intimacy is definitely something that's on my mind as I'm writing this. I'm getting differing opinions on it: some people think it's more in-character to stick with the sex for now and then move on to intimacy because Ziva has major commitment issues, while others of you are wondering why I haven't moved on to intimacy yet because poor sweet little Tony is dying over here.

However, last night and this morning saw a huge influx of plotting and planning in my head – enough to fill five and a half sides of paper – so looking through that, we will see some nice bonding starting as early as…well…the chapter after this one. But this one is necessary for set-up, which is why it's included.

So…enjoy.

X. Something's Up

Could we have a moment?
It feels so real
I'm picking out a blossom
I pin it on the wall
It feels so real

- Kyle Andrews, "Sushi"

Surprisingly, the Dinozzo theory of relationships succeeds with uncanny accuracy the following afternoon: once NCIS manages to catch Ava Beauregard through a BOLO, the interrogation reveals that she did indeed kill Ferguson and turns the situation into their first open-and-shut case in a long time. The evidence matches up; she confesses with details only the killer could give; the story checks out.

Ava even admits she thought they would never find her. Of course, Tony immediately scoffs and calls her naïve.

With Ava safely cuffed and in custody, Gibbs' team finds themselves with time to spare before dinner. In celebration, Abby declares that Tony, Ziva and McGee no longer have plans for the evening and will have dinner with her at the Italian restaurant on 54th street, because profuse amounts of garlic and carbohydrates will complete their happiness at catching another dirt-bag. She refuses to hear a word against her plan and tells them to wait upstairs for her. Then she disappears back to the elevator, presumably to make a stop at her lab before she leaves.

This leaves McGee, Tony and Ziva grinning away at each other on the main floor as they pack up their things.

"I love it when we get done early," says McGee appreciatively, looking around at the working office. "It's such a nice change – we get to leave first instead of last."

"I took the train this morning to come to work," says Ziva. "My car is still at the shop. Do you mind if I pitch a ride with one of you?"

"Hitch," Tony corrects. "And sure, you can come with me."

"Thanks," she says, though given the current state of affairs she would have much rather gone with McGee.

"So, Tony," McGee says with a sly sort of look on his face, "I haven't heard about that date of yours in a while. The hot Pilates one. How is that going?"

"It's going well, McProbie – and I owe her Pilates teacher more and more everyday," Tony remarks. "But it's…complicated."

"Complicated? How so?"

Though Ziva's face hasn't changed, she is as curious as McGee, her senses alert like a lioness sensing a predator some ways off, wondering if she is threatened.

Tony, reveling in their anticipation, sighs impressively.

"She's…tense," he says. "I feel like even though the sex is…well…you know…everything else hasn't come up to the same level."

"And that actually matters to you?" McGee arches an eyebrow.

"Well…yeah, McProbie, because at my stage in life—"

"—which is fairly advanced—"

"—at my stage in life," Tony continues a little louder, "after all the experience I have had, I have come to discover that actually, there is more to life than sex."

"No!" McGee feigns shock.

"Yes," says Tony solemnly. "And in order to get something more out of my relationships, I am trying to make the hot Pilates girlfriend trust me. But I think she's got some major commitment issues so no matter what I do, she doesn't think it's enough. And it's kind of driving me crazy."

"Well, she gets points for making you think a little harder," says McGee with a shrug. "It's good for you."

"That's exactly what I thought," Ziva inserts unexpectedly, her eyes black and sparkling and never leaving Tony's.

McGee nods in agreement. "Because it's true," he says.

Tony catches Ziva's eyes for barely over a second – startling, stunning even – and she opens her mouth to speak again, continue the banter forward; but Abby chooses now to appear back upstairs, bright and bouncy as ever, and says, "Thanks for waiting! Let's go!"

Tony and Ziva jump slightly; McGee's interest shifts from the two of them to Abby as smoothly as anyone could ask for.

Her energy is contagious and their awkward party moves towards her like moths to the flame; and she, with her excitement and her plans, obliges the leadership role with pleasure, herding them out to the parking garage, driving the previous conversation mostly out of their minds.

On the way down to the parking garage, she gives Tony and McGee detailed directions to the Italian restaurant, because apparently getting into their parking lot is a little tricky if you haven't done it before. When she's through, she dismisses them to their cars and tells them to grab a table if they get there before her. The three agree and split up to go to their respective cars. The air gets awkward almost immediately as McGee vanishes from earshot and it's just Tony and Ziva now, preparing to trap themselves in Tony's little metal box for the next fifteen minutes.

Discomfort runs palpable as he backs out of the garage, but they have both gotten better at pretending it doesn't exist; he drives out to the road, she turns on the radio, and they half-listen in silence until they get to the restaurant, wordlessly agreeing to let Abby and McGee facilitate conversation once they all get together.

Tony follows Abby's directions and Ziva doesn't comment on Tony's driving and they get to the restaurant in good time. Tony locks his car and the two of them enter the restaurant, where they find that they are the first ones there. The hostess leads them to a table for four and Tony pulls out his phone to text Abby and McGee with the news of their arrival. Abby texts back almost immediately saying okay and McGee texts back about thirty seconds later.

Now there is nothing to do but wait; so, while sipping their waters and staring out determinedly into space, looking very much like high school freshmen out on a first date, they do just this.

And this imagery – that of inexperienced people self-consciously suffering through a date – is the first thing that hits Abby when she approaches the table.

Initially, when she hugs them cheerfully and sits down, she dismisses it as chance, nothing special. McGee joins them soon after and the conversation rolls from there. But as she watches, as she really watches the way they interact with each other, that first picture of them at the table nags and she can't stop thinking about it.

Tony, his hand near Ziva's but not quite touching it; Ziva, her chair closer to the table's edge while his is closer to hers; Tony, with his easy jokes and murky eyes and dazzling smile, and Ziva with her easy laughter and murky eyes and dazzling smile. All the signs are there – this isn't just partners feeling awkward because they were never this awkward around each other – and there's only one conclusion to draw from this.

That something's up.

That something is the matter.

That maybe – just maybe – something personal is going on between Tony and Ziva.

She wracks her brains but it's the only thing that makes sense.

For the duration of dinner, talking about the case and other memorable cases and the way the team had tracked down Ava, Abby says nothing. There's nothing to say at this point. But she keeps watching and things start clicking and clicking into place.

How Ziva seems to wear the same outfit more than once in the week; how Tony seems more exhausted than usual; how Gibbs seems to be watching them both more carefully than usual. How Ziva, while digging into her spaghetti, tries too hard to keep her elbow from brushing against Tony's; how Tony talks almost exclusively to herself and McGee, as though afraid to say anything to Ziva.

Something's definitely up and by the time the bill comes, Abby has made up her mind on what to do next.

Tony stretches his limbs out and yawns contentedly, his grin lopsided and his eyes on the little black booklet.

"Well, you guys, I think I'm going to cover this one," he announces, reaching for his wallet in his pocket.

"Don't be silly, Tony," says Abby, swiping the booklet away. "We'll split it. Cough up, guys."

Abby, Ziva and McGee obediently contribute their share in cash; Tony only has his credit card and tells the waiter who comes to collect the booklet to take the rest off the card. And they polish off the last bits of dessert at the table and stay relatively silent, peaceful and satiated with not much else to say.

The waiter returns with Tony's card and now they are free to go, full as they are on the carbs Abby had promised. McGee looks ready to go to sleep; Ziva is as alert as ever and Tony looks more relaxed than he has all evening at the thought of going home full on Italian food. Elated, Abby takes in the sight of them, warmer now than she had been when they broke out the wine, because that's the natural reaction to having dinner with good friends – and it's also the feeling that precedes recklessness, which is what she intends to indulge in the next few minutes.

However, keeping in line with the cozy-sleepy atmosphere, she hugs each team member in turn and bids them a good night; but when they all meander towards the door, Ziva next to Tony because some unspoken gesture passed between them saying that he is her ride home, Abby grabs McGee and pulls him aside where the other two can't hear. McGee is astonished to find urgency written all over her features – an urgency that had certainly not been there moments ago.

"McGee! Something is up with Tony and Ziva," she blurts out, no lead-in, no notice, no nothing.

His classic baffled-McGee face makes an appearance at the frantic assertion.

"What do you mean, something's up?" he asks.

"I mean, they're keeping something from us!" Abby's eyes are as wide and shiny as freshly-polished coins. "I need you to ask them what they're hiding, McGee."

"Are you kidding?" McGee is incredulous. "They're much more likely to tell you than me. Particularly Tony."

"Yes, McGee, but by tomorrow, you will have a new case and a new avalanche of evidence to drop on me, and you will therefore have more time to talk to both of them," Abby insists. "I'll be slaving in my lab all day."

McGee opens his mouth to argue, but Abby is fierce – as she always gets when she suspects something is off with her friends – and he knows it's futile. The fight flows out with his exhale and he nods, however grudgingly.

"All right," he mumbles.

"Good." She gives him a sunny smile and a complimentary hug. "Thanks, Tim!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yep, tomorrow."

Her smile brightens even more, if it's possible. "All right – have a good night! Thanks for coming!"

The smile pulls at only one corner of his mouth, but it's genuine and they part in opposite directions with pleasure. The night is cold, the wind nippy with condensation over their open mouths like smoke screens, and McGee tucks his hands into his pockets to generate some heat in them again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the restaurant safe from the scrutiny of Abby and McGee, Tony does the same, his fingers curled into fists in his coat pockets, shoulders hunched like an old man in a feeble attempt at warming his neck. Ziva, somehow immune to the weather, remains at ease, matching his pace as they meander in circles around the empty lot. Theoretically, it could be an extra parking lot, but only a couple of dark innocuous cars are here, leaving them in considerable anonymity – just the way they like it.

He sighs and there is physical evidence of it blowing from his mouth to her face. She looks to him and searches him for signs of conversation. When none come, she makes one of her own.

"So…is there any particular reason we are walking here in the cold when we are parked on the other side of the street?" she inquires.

"Yeah," he says suddenly, as though snapping back into the world from some faraway reverie she isn't privy to. "Yeah, there is. I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over tonight."

"And this is the place to ask me this?"

He shoots her a look. "I didn't want Abby or McGee to know," he says.

"You could have asked me in the car, where there is a heater," she points out.

"Fair enough."

"So…shall we head that way?"

"That would probably be good."

"I thought so."

Blushing, he leads; rolling her eyes, she follows. He unlocks the car and both of them climb inside. He keeps the gear in idle and lets the car warm up a little, lets them warm themselves up a little, and as she doesn't put on the radio, the thawing air is silent. But as he begins to put the car into reverse, she chooses to speak.

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you talk about me to McGee when I'm in the same room?"

His foot hits the brake; his eyes find hers.

"What?"

"You heard me," she says. "Why do you talk about me to McGee when I'm in the same room?"

He hesitates.

"Well…" He searches for the words. "Because…it's easier to talk to you indirectly."

"What?"

"You heard me," he parrots, somewhat mockingly but mostly seriously. "You just…don't like direct conversation, so I have to be more creative when I need to tell you something."

"Whatever you say to McGee, you can certainly say to me," she reminds him.

"But how much of it would you listen to?" he counters.

She falls silent; he is grim with victory. He half-considers saying something else, too, since he's got her attention but decides to avoid over-kill – satisfied, he reverses out of the parking spot and heads out to the main road.

She puts the radio on now and they are ponderously silent the rest of the way to his place.

A/N: Pace was a little difficult for me to get right this chapter, but I read it over now and I figured it was as good as it was ever going to get; so I gave it to you, crossing my fingers that you could see artistic merit that I missed. (The end, however, is actually meant to be brief and ambiguous so that it paves the way for next chapter.)

Speaking of which, I'm really excited about next chapter and the chapter after that because they get some really nice groundwork through (assuming I write them correctly, of course) and I think you'll like what you get.

Hopefully this chapter correctly served its purpose of adding a fresh perspective – Abby's – and expect Tim and his queries to return three chapters from now.

Cheers, and please remember to review on your way out.