Today's prompt: um, I forgot to copy/bookmark, but it was along the lines of someone boasting about their s'mores making skills and then failing miserably.
Takes place the summer after Ziva became an American citizen, and Gibbs decided to invite the team over for a barbecue. Kind of a follow-up to day 9 - Independence Day, but I kept the references vague, so no need to read that one if you don't want to.
Thank you all for your continued support, despite the spotty posting schedule I had to fall back on.
"You're doing it all wrong," he said, feigning offense as he snatched the crackers and bar of chocolate from her hands.
"You are going to tell me how to prepare food?" She scoffed.
"Making s'mores is not preparing food, Ziva."
She raised an eyebrow at his use of air quotes, but kept quiet.
"It requires skill and dedication, it is art, science, a -"
"How can it be art and science?" McGee asked smugly.
"Shut up, Probie, I'm Lord of the s'mores." He faced her once more. "Do you want me to teach you how to make s'mores, or not?"
She snorted, enjoying the dramatic flair he sometimes unleashed to entertain his friends. Glancing at said friends, taking in their smiling, relaxed expressions—too much food and laughter will have that effect—she said with gravitas, "Enlighten me, oh Lord."
He huffed as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "That's more like it."
The warm feeling of finally having found a home, not just a place to live and leave at a moment's notice, was only solidified by his over-the-top side-eye. She smiled widely, not caring who noticed.
Turning to her he held up the cracker and bar of chocolate. "Your chocolate to cracker ratio is way off."
She barely contained a pout. "But I love chocolate."
"That's because you're sweet—" his eyes went wide, "—tooth, you have a sweet tooth."
Abby snorted from the other side of the fire. "Nice save, Tony."
Ziva narrowed her eyes, laughter tugging at the corners of her lips, and pointed a skewered marshmallow at his face. "If you ever call me sweet I will roast you like a marshmallow."
Happiness radiated from his eyes at their new found banter. "Ha, in front of a team of federal agents, good luck getting away with that."
Gibbs broke his hour-long silence, and deadpanned, "I didn't see anything."
Laughter broke out around the fire, and she bit her bottom lip at the look of mock-betrayal on his face. He whisked away the skewer and held it over the fire, then returned the cracker and chocolate to her. She broke off a smaller piece of chocolate and held it up for his approval.
"You're a fast learner, padawan," he said solemnly.
The unknown nickname barely registered as she got lost in his glowing eyes, their color shifting with the flickering flames. The crackling of the fire and muted words in the background only intensified her sense of belonging.
"Hey, Lord of the s'mores," McGee said, breaking the spell. "Your marshmallow is on fire."