Flummoxed

Ziva's confusion with American idioms becomes a source of confusion for Tony when Ducky comments on the misuse of several idioms during the recovery of a body. Gibbs has been badly injured, leaving Tony in charge of the team. (End of season 3)

Flummoxed: utterly bewildered, confused, or puzzled.

"Drip it, Ducky," Ziva strode up the gangway to the ship with the medical examiner on her heels. She was all business and had tried to explain that the EMTs had Gibbs so she was now focused on the case and remains of a body in the ship's interior.

"Zip it? Or drop it?" he commented as he followed the Israeli to the site of the explosion that had injured Gibbs and killed a man believed to be Pin-pin Pula.

"Yes." Ziva tried not to grimace or give any other indication that she was annoyed. "American idioms drive me up the hall."

She noticed Tony standing outside the doorway to the small laundry room where the barrel of explosive material had been detonated. Ziva motioned to Ducky to follow her to the cordoned-off room.

"My dear, I can understand why you may be flummoxed. The language of the Americans is definitely not the Queen's English. Many of the idioms took me a while to learn as well," Ducky commented as he stepped under the crime scene tape that Tony held up for him.

'Flummoxed?' Tony repeated the word to himself as he glanced at Ziva. If her face was any indication, she was as clueless as him about the word. Her quick glance in his direction and slight furrowing of her eyebrows told him all he needed to know.

Tim was taking pictures of the scene, including the spot where Gibbs had been lying when found bloodied and unconscious. The remains of the deceased were in several parts; the upper torso, head, and arms were in one corner, close to where Gibbs had been. The lower half of the man was strewn about the room among the remains of the fifty-five-gallon steel drum which appeared to be the source of the explosion.

Tony opened his small notebook and quickly jotted down the unfamiliar word to look it up later when he had a chance. He wrote in pencil so he could erase it when he was done… flummoxed? He flipped the page and made some notes about the scene and the location of body parts before Ducky bagged and tagged the remains for transport back to NCIS.

The MCRT concluded the crime scene analysis and gathering of evidence after darkness fell. Tony signed off with the ship's Agent and led his team down the ramp to their waiting vehicle.

"When we get back to the Navy Yard, McGee, found out everything you can about why Gibbs and the dead guy were in that room. If it is indeed Pula, we need to know his whereabouts for the past several weeks," Tony rattled off his mental checklist aloud. "Ziva, follow up with Abby about the explosive residue and the way the barrel seemed to explode. I want to know why the lower half of the guy was basically gone. How did the explosion tear his legs and lower torso from the rest of him?"

Around 2100, Director Shepard came in from the hospital. "Jethro is stable, but sedated. Go home all of you and get some rest. Come back with fresh eyes and minds in the morning," she commanded to Tony, Ziva, and Tim.

"Yes, ma'am," Tony stood up as the director approached, still in her evening gown. "Abby?"

"She was at the hospital with me, but I sent her home to rest tonight as well. First thing in the morning she will process the evidence you brought back. Now, go home and rest, before I change my mind," the director channeled her inner Gibbs as she smirked at the team.

Tim was already half-way to the elevator by the time Tony grabbed his bag. Ziva grabbed hers about the same time as Tony did, and the two headed towards the elevator together. Tony pressed the call button to bring the elevator back to their floor after dropping Tim downstairs.

"So," he turned to Ziva as she also spoke.

"Tony, do…"

"Ladies first," he grinned at her, albeit a tired grin.

"No, you spoke first," she insisted.

He chuckled slightly as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, "After you…" He motioned to her to step in and also nodded to indicate that he wanted her to speak first.

She leaned back against the railing at the back of the elevator car, sighing tiredly. "I do not know about these idioms. They are so confusing, and just when I think I have learned one, along comes another. I know that you are trying to teach them to me, but…"

"What was Ducky talking about earlier? On the ship?"

"I told him to drip it. He corrected me by asking zip it or drop it. I was so focused on the case and investigation that I just agreed with him…" Ziva trailed off.

Tony moved closer to his partner, "Okay… zip it means shut up, be quiet, seal the lips. Drop it means let it go, stop talking about it, forget about it…"

Ziva nodded, "And the word he said after? Flum… flun… fum…?"

"Flummoxed," Tony declared. "I have no idea what it means. It is not an idiom, at least not an American English one. Maybe Scottish or British English?"

Ziva shrugged, "I guess we shall need to look it up in my dictionary, yes? Dinner at my place?"

Tony grinned and nodded, "Pizza or take-out Chinese?" He held up his phone; both places that were open late at night and on the way to Ziva's apartment were on his speed-dial list.

Ziva paused to think about the choices and before she could respond, the elevator reached the parking garage level and the doors slid open. Tony followed her to her car waiting for her answer.

"Chinese, I would like chicken with mushrooms and green beans. Fried rice on the side," she decided.

"I will call it in and pick up our dinner on the way to your place," he pressed the speed dial number for the 24/7 Chinese take-out to place the order. After ordering Ziva's chicken dish and his own Mongolian beef, he flipped his phone closed.

"They have our order and said it will be ready in ten to fifteen minutes; gives me time to get there. I will see you shortly," he turned to his car as Ziva climbed into hers.

Twenty-five minutes later, Tony knocked on Ziva's door with the bag of Chinese food in one hand. She peeked through the peep-hole and then opened the door for him. She gestured towards the living room where she had put out two bottles of beer for the meal. Her large dictionary also sat on the coffee table.

Tony sat on the sofa and opened the bag as Ziva opened the dictionary. He placed the large container of fried rice between the two plates she had set out. Then he put her box of chicken with mushrooms by her plate and his own box of Mongolian beef next to his own plate. He opened the rice and dumped about half of it on Ziva's plate and the rest on his own as she thumbed through the pages of the dictionary.

"F-l-u-m-… m-o-x-e-d… here it is!" Ziva pointed to the dictionary entry on the page to show Tony she had found the word they wanted. "Flummoxed: totally or utterly confused, bewildered, or puzzled." She read the definition.

"Ah, makes sense now why Ducky said that," he dumped his Mongolian beef on top of the rice on his plate and picked up a fork from the table. He scooped some beef and rice onto the fork and popped it into his mouth.

Ziva nodded and spooned her chicken onto the rice, then took a forkful into her mouth. The pair ate in silence watching a B movie that Tony found on the cable TV.

The next morning, the three MCRT team members were on the hunt for information and clues as to the cause of the explosion that had injured the team leader. At one point, Tim looked up in confusion at the plasma where Tony and Ziva had displayed some conflicting reports.

Ziva and Tony turned towards each other, locking gazes, and grinning at the third team member's confused look.

"Flummoxed!" the pair said together and smirked.