Title: A Real Fine Place To Start
Author: rekkidbraka
Rating: T
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.
Category: Romance
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Tony and McFlea take another look at the little house and meet their prospective neighbor.
-------------------- A Real Fine Place To Start ---------------------
"Whaddaya think, buddy? There's a front lawn and a backyard and a front porch and a back deck and even a couple of trees for you to..." Tony frowned as McFlea made a beeline for a big oak in the backyard and lifted his little black leg. "...mark your territory. But you got that down already." McFlea finished and scampered back to his master, panting happily. "ALL this could be ours!" Tony said in his best "game show host" voice.
McFlea let out a little howl, wagged his tail and, in a trot, followed Tony around the house to the front porch. Tony took a seat on the swing and McFlea jumped up beside him. He lay down, putting his little head in Tony's lap. Tony petted McFlea behind the ears as he surveyed the neighborhood. His gaze settled on the house next door, sporting its giant blue flag with the huge block "M." Tony snarled.
"Hiya!" A man's voice startled Tony.
Looking to his right, Tony saw the man who owned the home -- and the flag -- opening the little gate to the house he was again examining. He and Ziva had visited other homes but this one was their favorite. Today he'd been running errands with McFlea and decided to drop by and see if McFlea liked the yard. He hadn't expected to see anyone from the neighborhood but it was a Saturday so he guessed that the man next door was curious about a stranger walking around the yard of the empty home.
The man made his way onto the porch. McFlea lifted his head, pricking up his ears.
"Can't stay away, eh? Looks like we'll be neighbors soon enough, I guess!" The man, about Tony's age, had blond hair, blue eyes and an impossibly brilliant tan. He flashed a broad smile. His teeth were shiny and perfect. Tony smiled back. "I'm Brad Brannon." He offered Tony his hand, which Tony took. Brad shook it a little too firmly for Tony's taste. Tony rubbed his hand, which ached, and tried to remain polite.
"Tony DiNozzo. Good to meet you... Brad." Tony looked up at the porch ceiling."Yeah, it's a nice little house," he said. "My wife and I like it more than the others we've looked at. But we're still deciding." He patted McFlea's head again. "Me and the hound were out on the town so I thought I'd bring him by and see if he approved of the surroundings." Tony looked at a little flowering plum tree in the front yard that McFlea had marked upon their arrival and added, "He loves the place. Big fan of the trees." McFlea yawned and let out a little yap.
"Yes, well... What kind of dog is he?" Brad asked, nodding disdainfully at McFlea. "We've got a dog, you know. She's a Pomeranian. AKC-registered. Took "Best In Show" in her breed a couple of years ago but we retired Muffsy from the circuit after that. Not enough room in the house for all her awards, you know," Brad laughed. Tony raised his eyebrows, forcing a smile. McFlea panted, letting his tongue hang out the side of his mouth. Brad frowned, giving McFlea another once-over. It was obvious to Tony that he didn't like what he saw.
"McFlea here is a McMutt -- some kind of Lab/Terrier mix, the vet says." Tony gave McFlea a big, wet sloppy kiss on his fuzzy black forehead. Pulling his puppy into his lap, Tony scratched McFlea's belly and McFlea yowled with pleasure, kicking out his leg and slobbering with joy. "We were thinkin' of entering him in the Puppy Puffs Howl-O-Ween Fetch Festival but I missed the deadline for sending in the application form. My wife thinks he woulda won. He's a howler, alright. Fetches like a champ, too. Dont'cha, boy?" McFlea panted in response. Disgusted, Brad winced.
"A howler? Oh..." Brad looked concerned. "Well, I hope he's not too loud. We've got a quiet neighborhood here. No crazy parties or anything like that. Scheduled play dates for the kids, scheduled times at the dog run, scheduled cookouts at the park..."
"Scheduled time to set the schedule?" Tony joked, only half-kidding.
"How did you know?" Brad answered seriously. Tony's eyes went wide.
"So..." Tony said, changing the subject, "... you're, uh, really into the whole 'wave a big flag' thing, huh?" He nodded towards the blue flag mounted outside Brad's house. Brad beamed with pride.
"Michigan '92," Brad said, lifting his chin slightly. "Whole family bleeds Big Blue. My side and the wife's side. I ran point for the Wolverines my whole four years there." Brad smiled his shiny smile. "NCAA Final Four. Big Ten champs. Had to beat Ohio State to get there. Had this Buckeyes point guard running up on me one season, annoying guy -- real hairy and sweaty, smelled like garlic -- wasn't such a great player but he just would NOT back off. Worst game of my life! I'll never forget it -- guy wore Number..."
"... Thirteen. Caused you to foul out of the game. You screamed at the refs and you AND your coach both got technicals. Number Thirteen shot four free throws and sank 'em all for the Bucks. Ohio State tied it up then and Michigan only won on a foul in the next 10 seconds when your center nailed one of two free throws. One point. You beat the Buckeyes by one lousy point." Tony's green eyes blazed. Brad studied him, shocked at what he'd just heard.
"That's right," he said. "Were you at the game?"
"Oh yeeeeaaaaaah..." Tony answered. "I was Number Thirteen -- Brad." He stood up from the swing to face Brad. McFlea whined, pricking up his ears. Brad narrowed his eyes at Tony, who followed suit.
"Ah, yes," Brad sneered. "I thought I smelled garlic -- DiNozzo. Well, best of luck affording this place on whatever salary an Ohio State guy pulls down." He glared down his nose at Tony. "Which means, I suppose, that we won't be neighbors after all. What a darn shame." Tony grinned back at Brad.
"Hmmm..." Tony muttered, putting on his most "thoughtful" expression. "Since you're livin' here on the kind of money a Michigan Man makes, I oughta have enough left over after payin' my mortgage each month to buy my lovely bride that membership in Glock Of The Month Club that she's been talkin' about. And knowin' her, she'll get all misty-eyed when that first newsletter from Glocks-R-Us comes in the mail. Oh, it'll be a hot time in the ole 'hood that night, lemme tell you!" Tony snickered, raising an eyebrow. Brad shuddered, turning pale. Tony made a little pistol shape out of his right hand and said "POW!" before turning up his index finger and blowing on it. He offered Brad a huge, toothy grin.
"When my wife and I move in," Tony replied, "we should reeeeeally have you and the Mrs. over for drinks sometime, Brad. We won't. But we should." He folded his arms across his chest. "Now... get off my front porch." Brad sniffed, turned, shot Tony another dirty look over his shoulder and stalked off. Tony watched Brad march home, throw one final threatening glare his way and slam his front door when he went into his home. Tony, a smug grin on his face, relaxed with McFlea on the swing. McFlea sat up and barked with authority in the direction of Brad's house, his ears still pricked as if on guard.
"Yeah, he's gone now, McCujo," Tony sighed, rolling his eyes at McFlea's display of bravado. "Hope you can hold your own against the show dog." Hearing this, McFlea lay down and put his head in Tony's lap again, whimpering. Tony whipped out his cellphone, hit a button and waited. "Sweet Cheeks?" he said when Ziva answered, "I think we've found our house. And, boy -- are you gonna love our new neighbors."
