ARGGG! STUPID INTERNETTT! !

i just wrote you a huge authos note, but then it didnt save because the internet died. i had a mini break down.

it was not pretty.

anyway... thank you for the reviews! over 90 review in total for this story... that's insane! special thank yous to MegpieLovesTiva, K8 G.H. Ducy and tivaandmcabby who have review almost all the chapters so far. you guys rock! :)

anyways enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: fine. i own nothing. YOU HAPPY NOW!

Chapter 14

Tony pulled at the collar of his button down shirt nervously as he switched the flowers from one hand to the other. He tried to find something to do, as he stood in front of the wooden panelling on the door, examining like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He had already rang the doorbell, and stood patiently waiting for it to be answered. He was about to reach over and try again when the door swung open and a man who was most definitely not Jeanne answered. He was a fairly short average looking man, who was going grey around the edges. His sharp cheekbones suggested that he may have been something in his youth, but that had been weathered down by scars and frown lines. He wore an expensive suit, Armani if Tony guessed correctly. But there was something about the man who unsettled Tony. Something that told him to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He gave of some kind of slimy aura, and there was something toad-like about his smile and the way his eyes flashed, as if he was always looking, never trusting. But he did not listen to his instincts, thinking that any negative feelings that he was having to others was him channelling his annoyance with Ziva.

"Hello, Mister DiNozzo. Jeanne is just getting ready. Why don't you come inside and wait for her."

Tony could not exactly refuse, the man had made it perfectly clear with the way that he spoke, despite his gut feeling. So he nodded and the man let him in. Tony had to pretend that he didn't notice how the man scanned the area in the street before closing the door, as if suspicious. This only added to Tony's suspicion on him. After all, those who looked that guilty and on guard suggested that he was doing something wrong and had something to guard…

The house was nice enough. On the drive there Tony had noted how this was on the nicer side of town, the even wealthier part that him. The whole town was a newly developed area, which stank of wealth and power. And paint. From that Tony could tell that they were wealthy, which did nothing but make him nervous. Would Jeanne have high expectations? Was she used to wealth and being spoilt? And would he have enough money to please her? Sure, his family was also wealthy, but that was not real money. This, this is what real money looked like.

After waiting for a moment as Tony surveyed the room, the man spoke again.

"Would you care for some whisky?" he asked the boy. There was something in his tone that suggested that the man had ulterior motives. Tony could almost see the layers of the question.

"I'm driving," he declined, and Tony sensed some kind of approval at his answer. Tony had a feeling that he had just found out what the double meaning was. This was all just a test, one that Tony was now determined to pass.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the man's clinking of shot glasses as he prepared himself a drink, as if trying to tempt Tony, until Jeanne walked down the stairs, fastening an earring as she went.

"Papa, have you see-" then she noticed Tony's presence, "Tony!"

"Hi," Tony replied nervously, mostly due to her father's presence, "these are for you." He handed over the flowers. White lilies. Jeanne had mentioned in passing that they were her favourites, so he had taken note and bought her some. The poster boy of first dates. He offered her his arm and Jeanne accepted.

When they reached the car Tony, always the gentleman, opened the car door for Jeanne as she got in. As he went round to his own side of the car, he could not help but take a glance back over at the house. And he was glad he had. Mr Benoit was standing in the window of the living room, his eyes unreadable from that distance. Tony felt an icy finger crawl up his spine, but he refused to let it show on his face. Instead he just raised his eyebrows at him and got into the car. Leave him to figure out what I'm trying to say, Tony thought to himself. He had a feeling that this would not be the last time he was going to meet Mr Benoit. And he had a strange certainty that, if his reception was anything to go by, it would be a rather slimy meeting…

The meal was enjoyable. The food and the company were good. But after the sixth time that Tony found himself not paying attention to conversation, he knew that something was up. Every time Jeanne twirled her hair around her fingers, he thought of longer, curlier hair being twisted around longer, less delicate fingers. When Jeanne laughed at one of his pathetic excuses of a joke, he couldn't help but compare her laugh with another girl he knew. . And in comparison, Jeanne laughed like a horse on helium. Even what she was wearing, made him think of that girl, and how she would not be caught dead in something for flowery and pretty He had no idea why she was in his head, even when he was with another girl. But for some reason, the only girl on his mind was Miss Ziva David.

Tony splashed his face with cold water. He had excused himself from the table, after he found himself thinking about Ziva again. This was not happening. He was Tony DiNozzo, the poster boy for first dates, the man who charm anyone, no matter how old they may be, the man who was notorious for his long string of girlfriends. Then why was it that he was making all the mistakes in the books? He had drifted off a few times, mentioned his feelings, mentioned Ziva. It was all going down. But the stupid thing was that Jeanne didn't seem to be noticing. She was laughing and smiling, oblivious to anything. And Tony wanted to keep it that way.

Returning to the table he flagged down the waiter to order deserts. Jeanne was muttering under her breath about which one to choose, indecisive. Trying (and failing) not to think about Ziva and what Ziva would choose, Tony decided to choose for her.

"One of everything, please," he said and the waiter nodded and walked off. Jeanne looked at him speechless for a moment. Tony was also having to think that decision through. He was going to have to stop being so easy going with money. With his father broke he could no longer rely on him for a steady income. He had already started using some of his college fund, which was not going to last forever. And the clue was in the name, it was supposed to be for college. He really needed to start thinking his future through. Those tutor lessons to prepare him for his scholarship or bursary application were going to have to be pretty high on his priority list. Which subsequently made him think of his amazing ninja-tutor. And the fight…

In the time Tony was thinking Jeanne managed to recover.

"You didn't have to," she said shyly, and Tony felt guilty about not paying enough attention to her that evening. She was a sweet girl, and definitely didn't deserve to be treated like that. Despite his reputation, he was enough of a gentleman to feel guilty about neglecting her all night. Not that she was intelligent enough to tell…

"But I wanted to," Tony replied, charm switched on to maximum capacity. He was going to play nice. She deserved that much at least…

oooOOOooo

Ziva felt like an outsider in their circle as she stared out of the window at the rain crashing down. She had really seen rain like this in her entire life having spent most of her life in a place where the temperature rarely fell below 15°C, and she should have felt some kind of excitement. But instead she just felt some kind of dread, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but a strange sense of foreboding. Her English teacher had probably tried to explain something like this to her, that the weather in books and films was a reflection of the character's feelings. But she had never felt further away to a character in a book or film. Her life was not glamorous. She was going to become a Mossad officer, and probably not live past 25 years old. She would have no long term love interest, unless it was of her father's wish and it was to secure relations with a particular family. And it was more of a business agreement that a romantic interest. In books and movies, the tragic heroine somehow managed to look graceful and beautiful in the most tragic of circumstances. But, she thought wryly, it was difficult to look beautiful in army boots and her uniform. She shook the thoughts out of her head and turned her concentration back on the scene in front of her. They were all there, McGee, Abby and Tony. And yet she still felt so alone. And that was because an old friend was coming to visit. An old friend who she had heard so much about, that had been praised and worshipped by Abby, who McGee had quietly respected, and who, in Abby's words was "the only one who would argue with Tony and win". That added on to the fact that she and Tony were not speaking made it even more uncomfortable. She had no idea how to act, how to behave, how to feel. It was amazing that Abby had even managed to talk her into it.

*EARLIER THAT WEEK*

"Come on! You have to come!" Abby had said, in an overexcited tone. As soon as she had heard that her old friend was coming back to visit she had rang all of her friends to organise a get together at her house. And even though she had only known Ziva for a short time, Abby still accounted her as one of her best friends.

"I don't know Abby…" Ziva said uncomfortably. She did not want to feel like the third wheel of the party, and would feel uncomfortable to just be sitting there when the others were talking about the "good old times". She didn't think she could handle that, what with not being on such great terms with Tony.

"Come on Zee!" Abby said. But it was not working.

Right, Abby thought to herself, I'm thinking that this is time to employ a new tactic. Begging clearly is not working…

"It would mean a lot to me. You are my friend, right Ziva?" Abby said, trying to sound sad. It was a good thing that Ziva could not see the wicked grin that was on her face…

Ziva sighed. Could it really be that difficult? Surely she was just being childish? Could it honestly be that bad?

"I am allowed to leave when I want?" Ziva said. She was not going to flat out agree. That was not her style.

"Of course Ziva! It's going to be great! You won't regret this, I promise!" she said and promptly hung up. Ziva sighed. She was regretting this already… But she supposed that this did mean something to Abby. After all, it was not every day that Kate Todd came back to visit…

Back in the real world the doorbell rang and Abby let out a squeal of excitement. She practically bounded to the door. McGee tactfully moved a little slower, and Tony walked a few paces behind him. Only Ziva stayed where she was, curled up in the sofa the furthest away from the door. From there she could see everything, and yet remain undetected. She blew on her cup of tea and listened to the noises coming from the corridor. The door was swung open and Abby enveloped the person at the door with a huge hug. She could also detect a male voice making friendly greetings. Kate had said she was bringing her "exotic new man". That had only made to excite Abby further. Which was quite something.
"ZivaZivaZiva! Come meet Kate!" Abby yelled from the front door. Ziva sighed and put her cup of tea down and stood up. She pushed open the door and turned the corner, retracing the steps she took on her way in. she was almost at the door when she heard Abby again.

"Never mind! We're coming in!"

Sighing again (she seemed to be doing a lot of sighing lately…) she sat herself back down and waited. The door opened and a tall brunette walked into the room. She was of medium height with perfectly styled brown hair. She had one of those easy going smiles, and Ziva could see why she had gotten on so well with Abby and McGee. Speaking of Abby, she physically attached to Kate, arms around her waist and faces squished against Kate's body. Abby was not any smaller than Kate, but at that moment Abby looked like a small child with her big sister. Kate looked right at home, her arm slung protectively around her. Tony followed after, and looked like he was about to say something about how the two were together, but Kate beat him to it.

"Say something and I will not hesitate to castrate you," Kate said with malice. Ziva could hear the New York twang in her voice from just that. It was very classy, and suited her well. She could not image the woman with a British accent…

Tony shot her what he thought looked like a hurt look. Instead, he just looked like he was in pain.

"It's only been like, 2 minutes!"

"Time means nothing when it comes to insulting you," Kate quipped. Ziva decided she could probably get to like this Kate person. They could insult Tony together. Well, if she ever returned to be on speaking terms with each other…

"Caitlin, where do you want your bags?" a slightly accented voice floated through. Ziva could have sworn she knew that voice from somewhere. Like an echo in the past, a ghost. The door was pushed open to reveal the figure behind it. Before Kate could answer Ziva was on her feet in shock.

"Ari?"

CLIFFY!

reviews=faster update!
and cyber cookies for anyone who can quote to me the frog/jeanne's father imagery/description (the hard part is no finding it. the hard part is understanding what i am trying to say. )