"Would you stop that?" Ziva snapped, slapping a hand down on top of Tony's when he reached back into the metal canister he was holding.

He raised his eyebrows and pulled his hand out from under hers, managing to sneak a few of the wasabi-coated dried peas he had been reaching for out of the can. Popping one into his mouth, he shrugged. "I didn't have any lunch, Ziva."

"That -" She raised a hand and snatched his out of the air as he made to throw the rest of his handful toward the ducks that were watching him from the pond they were sitting on the edge of, "- is no reason to torture the poor water fowl." She pried the peas out of his hand and ate them herself, so he couldn't use them for his purposes. "Ducks do not like wasabi, Tony."

"Hey, they liked the first couple," he protested, taking advantage of her concentration on chewing to grab another handful out of the can and fling them toward the ducks. "The big one almost drowned two others trying to get to them!"

"They thought they were bread! Most humans do not throw things that they do not know ducks eat!" Exasperated with him, she sighed and sat up straighter, changing the subject. "This park must have a ladies room somewhere, yes?"

"Sure." He threw another handful of peas into his mouth, then said through them, "You know, if you ate more salty stuff - like, say, these peas - you wouldn't have to pee so much."

"Thank you for that wisdom, Doctor DiNozzo," she said sarcastically, and stood up. "I am going to find the restrooms. If I am not back in ten minutes -"

"I'll send McGee in after you," he finished with a grin.

She gave him a halfhearted glare, but before she could come up with a good comeback, the imperative of her full bladder overruled her desire to snark at him, and she headed for where she remembered seeing a squat brick building when they had entered the park to begin their stakeout. A building usually meant facilities, she reasoned.

Chuckling at her hasty retreat, Tony ate a few more wasabi peas, threw the largest duck a correspondingly large pea, and returned his attention to the hot dog vendor they were supposed to be keeping their eyes on.

With a sigh, Ziva splashed a handful of rusty water on her face and turned off the tap with one of the the rough brown paper towels she had managed to coax out of the equally-rusty paper towel dispenser. That towel went into what she hypothesized had once been a trash bin, before it had started its current life as a graffiti display, and she raised a second towel to her face to wipe off the water.

The bathroom door slammed open and, just as quickly, slammed closed again, and by the time she had managed to use one hand to whip the towel from her face, the other was clenching into a fist to defend herself. She stopped short when she realized that the potential attacker was only Tony, who was leaning back against the door and grinning at her. "Hey," he said casually, as if he hadn't noticed that he had scared the daylights out of her for a moment. "What's up?"

Ziva blinked and balled up the paper towel. "I believe that question would be more appropriate if I were the one asking it," she pointed out as she tossed the towel into the trash can, "given that what is 'up' with me is that I just finished washing my hands after using the ladies' room."

"Oh, yeah, well..." He shrugged and flipped the lock on the door behind his back with one hand.

"And it is fortunate that you were not a minute earlier," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the flaking paint of the bathroom's lone stall.

"Why?"

She smirked. "The stall's door does not lock."

Tony's eyebrows shot up as he looked from her to stall.

Point scored, Ziva cocked her head to the side and turned her attention to more realistic matters. "Shouldn't you be out there," she asked, pointing, "watching the suspect?"

He shook his head. "The vendor took the drop. McGee and Gibbs collared him before I could even get over there."

"That is good." When he didn't move, she leaned experimentally around him toward where the door handle would have been if he wasn't blocking it.. "You came in here to tell me this?"

"Nope," he replied, not moving.

"You felt that we had not been locked in a bathroom together for more than a week, and we were overdue?" she guessed again as it became obvious that he was not going to yield ground.

He cleared his throat. "Something like that."

"Ah." She moved to lean back against the counter, but stopped before her hands made contact with the concrete. Distracted for a moment by the realization of what she had almost touched, she wrinkled her nose. "This place is...unclean."

"Oh, come on, Ziva," Tony teased, pushing off the door. "You've been in worse places than this."

"Certainly. But generally" - she rubbed her hands together, trying to dust off non-existent grime - "I do not linger." Sighing, she crossed her arms and allowed her backside to rest against the counter instead of her hands. "There are nicer restrooms for us to meet in, Tony. Is it necessary for us to use this one?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because everywhere else, Gibbs is watching us!" he blurted, throwing up his hands.

She blinked. "Oh?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "You hadn't noticed?"

"Gibbs watches me quite regularly, Tony. I am used to it. But -" She uncrossed her arms slowly as his meaning dawned on her. "You believe he is watching...us? As in, 'us'?"

"Maybe," he said warily, obviously unsure what her reaction to that fact would be.

"And so you followed me in here because...?" she prompted.

He looked at her for a second, mouth slightly open, and then seemed to gather his courage. "I wanted some...privacy."

"For?"

In one step, he moved from the door to the sink to loom over her. "Let's just say I wanted to discuss your views on my 'adequacy'."

Surprised at the straightforwardness of the statement, she straightened up and narrowed her eyes, studying him.

He met her gaze, planted his hands on the counter, trapping her between him and it, and cautiously lowered his head to hers for a light, nipping kiss.

When he pulled away after a second, giving her time to react, Ziva lowered her eyelashes and licked her lips experimentally. "Wasabi."

Tony stared at her and pulled away another inch. "That's all you have to say?"

She executed what might have been either a blink or a flutter of her eyelashes and smiled. Going up on her toes, she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, drawing his head down to hers, put her lips against his ear, and whispered, "Better it is me than the ducks."

"What?" He blinked. "What the hell does that even - Ziva!"

She was gone, leaving behind only a vague impression of the grin that he thought he had seen on her face.

A/N: Getting kind of desperate for material and inspiration, here. Could you tell? Thank god next week is a new ep!