It is good to see you all again, my dear invisible friends who may or may not all just be a figment of my imagination, something my brain has dreamt up to keep me company whilst I continue to live on in a happy little world of my own.

I have a feeling that nobody actually reads my babbling at the beginning of my stories, but I do enjoy writing what I am thinking, wondering whether, one day, some poor soul will stumble upon this and worry about the sanity of previous generations. Hello to whomever might be reading this in the future. I wonder, is it any nicer there than it is at this date?

Anyway, I digress. What was it I had wanted to say? Oh, yes. So, as some may be aware, I have spent some time playing around with other little one-shots and stories in different styles, which I have actually quite enjoyed, so I do recommend going and having a look, even if it is just some procrastination to take you away from whatever mundane task it is you are supposed to be doing at the time you are reading this, because we all know that everybody has something more important to be doing than reading fan fiction. Heck, most of the time I have something more important to be doing than writing it.

XXVIII. I Would Venture A Guess That Anon., Who Wrote So Many Poems Without Signing Them, Was Often A Woman.

Ziva chuckled as Tony scattered her jawbone with light kisses. Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to face him. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, before you woke me up."

"Well, you just looked so beautiful and peaceful."

"And you disturbed that peace." She pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, I don't see you complaining." He muttered.

"That is because I am not."

"Well, I'm not either." Tony shrugged and laughed, moving her hair back. "Although, the reason I woke you up was because you overslept." He pointed to the alarm clock with the bullet hole in the top. Apparently Ziva had had some difficulties adjusting to the time difference in America when she had first arrived.

"Well, why have you not got ready for work yet?"

"I figured that seeing as you were having a lie-in, I would too." He groaned as he stretched and slipped out of bed.

"I have noticed I have been oversleeping a lot lately." The Mossad officer yawned.

"Yeah, I was talking to Ducky about that. He said it's usual. You know, you have two whole humans growing inside of you, so I think you're allowed to be tired."

"Well, I am so glad that I am allowed." She replied sarcastically, sauntering into the bathroom to get ready.

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it." He said, wishing he would think before he spoke for once. "Ziva." He sighed, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. He waited until he heard the shower turn on and gave up, trying a new tactic. He set about making breakfast, pancakes.

He grinned at her as she walked through to the kitchen, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders. He set the plate in front of her as she sat down and smiled slightly. "Bribery will get you everywhere, Tony."

"You know I didn't mean what I said the way I said it."

"Then do not say things in the way that they do not mean what you mean." She had forgiven him, but letting him know that wasn't something that was at the forefront of her mind at that precise moment in time.

"I'm confused."

"Me too." She grinned and brushed her lips across his, ignoring the plate of food he had placed in front of her. He pressed one final kiss to her lips before hurrying off to get ready, not noticing as they finally left the apartment that she had not touched the pancakes.


"Petty Officer Woodson was written up for fighting last month." Tim said, watching as Tony and Ziva hurried into the office.

"Why was he fighting?" Gibbs asked, ignoring his two agents who had walked to stand next to them at the plasma.

"Don't know." He shrugged. "But I do know who he was fighting with." McGee interjected before Gibbs could lose his patience.

"You gonna make me ask, McGee?"

"Oh, no. Um, a petty officer Iain Merston."

"Go interview him. Take Ziva." Gibbs nodded. Ziva stared at him, confused.

"Are you not mad that we are late?" Ziva turned to her boss.

"Yeah."

"So why…?"

"Am I letting you get away with it? I'm not." He glared at her. "Now go."

"Yes boss." She nodded and followed McGee to the elevator.

"Gibbs, I'm sorry about being late, I just wanted to let her sleep 'cos she's real tired and I…"

"Tony, it's fine." Gibbs shrugged. "I understand."

"Yeah, but you know, it's not her fault, I mean she can't really help being tired, it's just…wait, what?"

"I understand. I've been there."

"Yeah, but, you know, you said you were mad?"

"Nah, not really. I just don't want you to think I'm getting soft – Fornell already thinks that."

"How could anyone think you were getting soft, boss?" Tony asked, grinning. "What is it I'm supposed to be doing?"

"Working out how whoever killed petty officer Woodson got in to fill his pool with Jell-O."

"Right, yeah. On it, boss." He sat down at his desk.


"Petty Officer Merston?" Ziva asked as she and McGee stood behind the young man rebuilding a Humvee.

"Who's asking?" He lifted his head out from the bonnet and looked at the two gold badges that they held out. He wiped his hands on a rag hung over his toolbox and bit his lip. "What can I do for NCIS?"

"You can tell us about Petty Officer Woodson." Ziva narrowed her eyes when he started looking her up and down, a small smile gracing his lips and she knew the thoughts that were running through his mind.

"He's a great guy, you know, he's got money but he doesn't flaunt it. He doesn't need to work, but he still does. Why're you asking?"

"He died." McGee stated, watching as the petty officer's jaw dropped.

"Well, how?" He asked after a long pause.

"We do not know yet." Ziva shrugged. "A month ago, you and petty officer Woodson were caught fighting. What was the disagreement about?"

"It was nothing, really." He laughed and shook his head.

"Why don't you let us decide that?"

"There was this girl. He met her first; I took her out, not knowing. It really was nothing, we resolved it."

"By killing him?" Tim looked at him.

"He was my friend. He was a good person, I would never kill him."

"What do you know about Jell-O?" Ziva asked.

"Er, it's a gelatin based dessert food…"

"What about warfarin?"

"It's a blood thinner? Look, what does this have to do with Ryan's death?"

"There are connections." Ziva said.

"We may need talk to you again." Tim nodded as he and Ziva began to leave.

"I am sorry for your loss." She bowed her head and turned to follow her colleague. The petty officer hurried after her and grabbed her wrist. She stopped and glared at him and he let go.

"Hey, um, I'm just wondering, would you like to go out for dinner with me tonight, because, well, you're really hot." He grinned.

"Er, I think that is inappropriate." She grew uncomfortable.

"Oh, well, maybe when you've finished with the whole investigation thing, then could we maybe go for dinner?"

"I am engaged." She held her hand up.

"Well, you sure about the guy, because you might change you mind?"

"I am pregnant." She frowned at the young man's determination.

"Ah." He froze. "So that's a no, then?"

"A definite no." She nodded. "But thank you for the offer."


"The traffic is bottle-nosing." Ziva said into her phone as she sat in the car.

"Bottle-necking." McGee said, looking over from where he sat at the wheel.

"What?" She removed the phone from her ear.

"Bottlenose dolphins."

"What do dolphins have to do with the traffic?"

"The traffic is bottle-necking. Getting narrower, like the neck of a bottle. The dolphins are bottlenose." He smiled and she frowned and shook her head, returning to the call.

"There has been an accident, all the traffic is being forced into one lane." She sighed. "Tell Gibbs that it will take us a while. We are nowhere near the accident site yet."

"How did you find out then?" Tony asked.

"It was on the radio. They are forcing three lanes into one."

"Why can't you tell him yourself?" Tony's voice crackled down the line.

"Because I am not stupid, Tony." Ziva laughed. "I will see you when we get back."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled.

"Tell the Probie to drive safely. Tell him that if anything happens to you I will hunt him down and kill him. Tell him…"

"Tony, I will drive safely. I always do." Tim said as Ziva held the phone to his ear.

"Oh, hey McProbie. Make sure that you do."

"We would be at a grater risk if were Ziva driving."

"Good point. Just don't let her take over." Tony warned.

"Elf-Lord, what d'you find out?" Gibbs asked.

"Er, Merston and Woodson were friends, it was a dispute over a woman." McGee sighed.

"Please can I have my phone back, McGee?" Ziva held her hand out, smiling when he passed it over. "Tony, my driving is not so bad that we would be in any danger, in fact I would say that my driving is safer than all of yours."

"That so, David? Way I remember it, you almost killed Tony and McGee the first time you drove back from a crime scene." Gibbs said, and she could hear him raise his eyebrows.

"Well, I…"

"There anything else you found out about Woodson and Merston?"

"Woodson was a good man, Merston is a, uh…"

"Player?" McGee suggested.

"Yes, a player. Merston is a player." Ziva sighed. "He asked me to dinner."

"What d'you say?" Gibbs smirked slightly.

"I said no." Ziva said loudly.

"Good." He hung up. She shook her head and closed her phone leaning her head back as the car crept forwards.

"We could be back by now if I had driven."

"Ziva, people driving like you is the reason that accidents happen, and why there are traffic jams." Tim yawned.

"My driving has never… My driving has only cause one large scale accident." She grinned.

"You've probably caused more, but you had probably sped away before witnessing the aftermath."

"That is not true." She glared at him and sighed as he turned the radio back up so they could hear the sit-rep of the traffic. "I told you we should have taken the exit a mile back."

"And then we would be lost."

"At least we would be moving." She snapped, hitting the radio button to silence it.

"And that's better?"

"It is better to be moving forwards than not moving at all, McGee." He winced at her tone.

"Sorry." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Are there any more exits before the accident that we can take?" McGee closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "No, then."

"We could play eye-spy. To keep us occupied, you know." He looked at her, her angry face. "Or maybe not. How's the moving house going?"

"We cannot decide whose furniture we want to keep. Tony says that since his is new we should keep his bed; I have had my sofa since I moved out of my parents place. Neither of our tables goes with the new dinning room." She tilted her head to the side with each piece of furniture, like watching a tennis match.

"Why don't you just buy a whole new set of furniture? One that matches the house and that you both like?" McGee asked.

"Because that would be too easy, McGee." She retorted. He put his hands up in defence.

"You'll be happy once you're moved and it's all sorted." He smiled.

"I know we will, McGee." She growled at him. He sighed and lapsed into silence, knowing it was going to be an even longer car journey.