April 21
A ho-hum activity that's really fun when done with a good friend: washing the car.
Tim stared at his Porsche before switching his gaze to the person standing on the other side of it. The last time he had taken his precious car to a car wash, his driver's door had been scratched. Thus he had resolved to wash his car by hand ever since.
This was easier said than done. He needed time and energy, both of which were in short supply to him. He barely had time to breathe between Gibbs' insane working hours that he insisted everyone else keep and his writing at night. Washing his car tended to fall down his list of priorities when he was chasing a serial killer while his publisher left harassing messages about his latest deadline.
Naturally, Tony had found out about the little Probie who didn't have the time to wash his own car, and promptly spent a week teasing him about it until Ziva had stepped in. And it was Ziva who had offered to help him wash his car today. She did not seem to understand why he preferred to hand-wash it, judging by her offer to torture the attendant who had allowed his car to become damaged, but was willing to help him out.
She passed the bucket and the other sponge in his direction, and his thoughts turned back to his precious car.
"Do all men name their cars?" she inquired, sounding curious.
He glanced in her direction. "Not all, but a lot of women do as well."
She looked confused. "Why would you want to name your car? It is not a pet. And why does it have to be a female name?"
He shrugged. "Ask Tony. He could probably tell you everything you need to know, and more besides."
"It just seems a very strange thing to do," she commented. "I mean, I called my first car 'Tito'."
"After the Yugoslavian dictator in the 50's and 60's?" he queried.
"I thought it suited him," she remarked, standing back to admire her handiwork. "What do you think?"
He smiled. His car was perfect. And so was the company.