The Idiom: Doozy (not technically an 'idiom', but a word that would confuse someone learning English.


Ziva David yawned.

She had been at NCIS all night, completing paperwork. It was the early Monday morning. No one had been here in a few days, save the weekend duty agents. She had been assigned a mountain of paperwork simply because she had pushed Tony down a garbage shoot on Friday.

She grumbled to herself, remembering the chewing out she'd gotten from Gibbs. Who knew he cared if she covered Tony in garbage?

Ziva David yawned again. She had missed out on dinner with a friend and a date this weekend, due to paperwork.

She contemplated pushing Tony down another garbage shoot…and blaming it on McGee.

She smiled.

The elevator went off loudly, and she heard Tony's obnoxious yelp from the corridor. She groaned, annoyed that the object of her annoyance had arrived back at work after being able to enjoy his weekend.

"Zeeee-vah!" He sing-songed, coming to a bouncing stop in front of her desk.

She looked up at him darkly, and noticed McGee was trailing in behind him, looking wiped out tired and a little drunk.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded instantly, standing up menacingly.

"McGee and I went to the fair!" Tony informed her excitedly. "There was popcorn and music and games—Probie won a stuffed bunny for his sister, isn't that sweet, Ziva? Anyways, there was also this—"

"Stop yelling," McGee grumbled.

Ziva glared at Tony.

"You got him drunk," she accused.

"Did not!"

She glared.

"Only a little," Tony backtracked.

"He spiked all five of my slushies," McGee groaned, his head falling on his desk.

Tony quailed under Ziva's look.

"I had to!" he protested. "McChicken wouldn't get on the Ferris Wheel unless he was drunk!"

"I hate Ferris Wheels," moaned McGee. "They're so high up."

"Yes, Probie, excellent observation," Tony broke off as Ziva came around her desk.

"You have incapacitated the one person I do not want to kill while at work," she growled, pointing to McGee. "That Ferris wheel must have been a real floozy—"

"Did she just say floozy?" McGee mumbled, sounding confused.

Tony burst out laughing.

"She sure did, McHangover! When are you going to start getting stuff right? Ziva, the all-American word you are looking for is 'doozy', meaning—"

Tony broke off with a girlish squeak as Ziva pushed him to the ground and stepped on his chest, her knife appearing out of nowhere. She held it loosely in her hand, the point targeted at his heart. He gulped.

"I prefer floozy," she snapped.

"Kay," Tony chirped.

"Officer David!"

Ziva flinched at the sound of Gibbs' angry voice. She swallowed, cursing inwardly. Gibbs snatched her hand behind her back and twisted her arm.

"What did I say?" he asked.

She clenched her teeth.

"No more trying to hurt Tony," she repeated like a school child.

"Go to your corner," Gibbs snapped, sitting down at his desk.

He wished he'd put extra espresso in his coffee. He already felt like a school principal again.