"Your hands are cold," Tony said to Ziva as he accidentally brushed against her hands and then grabbed them to confirm this.

Which he was able to do quickly despite the fact that Ziva automatically pulled them away.

"Because it is cold out here," she said, giving a shiver to emphasise the point.

Except he didn't think that that was an exaggerated shiver but was a real one.

He gave her an odd look. "It's not that cold. It's actually quite warm for October."

"It is not."

"It is," he insisted. "The weather forecast said so. It's well above the average, apparently."

Ziva shook her head as if to say that there was no way that was right.

"I do not feel warm at all," she complained. "And I would be the first to be revelling in any sort of warm weather in October in America. But today is definitely not one of those days."

Again, it didn't make sense. Because she had definitely experienced colder days and he was pretty sure that her hands hadn't been that cold. Not that he went around holding Ziva's hands or anything.

"Come in, it really isn't that cold." He repeated as if saying it again would suddenly make her feel warm.

"I am from a desert, Tony. Anything below fifteen degrees is cold."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It is nowhere near that temperature today."

It was cold but it wasn't that cold. There was no frost on the ground and the air wasn't biting.

"Celsius. Fifteen degrees Celsius," she said in exasperation.

"Is that meant to be warm or cold?" He asked honestly.

He was never sure what the temperature was meant to feel like in Celsius.

"Where I am from fifteen is cold. That is what it gets to in the winter."

Now that was a fake shiver she did as she was thinking about the temperatures back in Israel.

"Well, here, it's not that cold," Tony informed her. "I think."

He still needed to figure out the conversion to Fahrenheit. Though he was pretty sure that whatever was cold in a place that was basically a desert wasn't actually that cold to his standards.

"Well. I am finding it cold."

"I can see that."

He took a step back and looked at Ziva properly. Never mind the cold hands, she didn't look good at all. She was pale and her eyes had faint circles underneath them. Actually, he squinted at her, dark circles. They were just covered up by her makeup. How had he not noticed that? He was normally quick to notice things like that. He blamed the fact that they were called out on a case before he even got a chance to get off the elevator this morning. It had been all go, go, go since then and the only reason they had stopped now was because they were waiting on someone to come out of the office building, they were in front of to lead back to NCIS to interview them about their dead Marine.

"Stop staring at me," she said irritably.

"Not get much sleep last night?" He asked, ignoring her statement.

She stiffened briefly before answering. "I slept fine."

"Liar."

Did she really think she could lie to him? He knew all of her tells. Not that she was even hiding the fact that she was lying that well - which definitely meant that she was sick. It was just a matter of how sick she was.

"Do you feel nauseous? Dizzy? Do you have a fever?" Tony peppered her with questions.

"It is none of your business," she replied irritably.

Which meant that she had at least one of those symptoms, if not all of them.

"It is my business. You are my business."

She glared at him but even that was weak (and something to be worried about). "I am none of your business."

"Of course, you are. You're my partner, duh. That makes everything you do my business."

Ziva didn't answer and instead rolled her eyes. And then she winced. Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Headache?"

"From all of your talking," she deflected.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You will take that as a leave me alone."

"Not going to happen," he said cheerfully. "It's not like were busy."

"Where is this person?" Ziva asked, looking up at the building. "Surely it does not take that long to get to the front door?"

"Maybe the elevator's broken and he's using the stairs?" Tony suggested.

Which would be good because the guy's office was way up on the twenty third floor which would give them tonnes of time to talk. Or, let's be honest, time for him to diagnose his stubborn partner.

"Maybe we should go on and get him?" Ziva wondered out loud.

"He did say that security won't let us through, hence why we're waiting."

It was only common courtesy, really. The guy wasn't a suspect or anything so they couldn't just barge up there and take him out. Though technically that would be better for Ziva right now because at least she would be somewhere warm. Seriously, her shivers were getting worse, which couldn't be a good thing.

"We could sneak in?"

"I don't think you could with all that sniffling you're doing," Tony half-joked.

She had been trying to hide said sniffles but she wasn't doing a very good job at it.

"I am not sniffing."

"Sure, you aren't."

Yet another glare. He must be going for some sort of record today. Which he wouldn't mind if Ziva would just see sense and admit that she was sick! It shouldn't be this hard, especially when it was this obvious.

"I am not."

Okay, now she wasn't sniffing but that's because she was trying to stop herself from doing so. Which kind of backfired on her because now she sounded even worse and all stuffed up.

"You are sick. Just admit it."

"Tony, read my mouth. I. Am. Not. Sick." She even pointed to her mouth for emphasis.

Now really wasn't the right time to correct her English.