Setting: I think season 7 works
Tony's stomach grumbled again—even more emphatically than the last time—and he stared at the clock on his computer screen. Once the digits stopped being a bunch of blurry lines, it read 2159. He scoffed inwardly, glaring at the offending numbers and daring them to tick over again. Daring them. The turn of the hour would mark another unwanted landmark in his day, as his empty stomach kept reminding him. Fourteen hours since the last time he ate something. God, that breakfast burrito felt like a lifetime ago. If he'd known how the day would go, he would have nursed it over the course of the day. As it happened, he just about inhaled it.
The clock flashed in the corner of his monitor. 2200.
His fist hit the desk.
''Did the desk look at you the wrong way, Tony?''
He looked up at Ziva, who was sitting across from him with her hands on her head as she lounged back. It was pretty clear that she was trying not to smile. It was also clear that she could sense his deteriorating mental state. She was probably aware of exactly why that was the case, too. Damn her, and that stupid salad thing she'd eaten a few hours ago. He knew he should have pinched some.
''You're the only one looking at me the wrong way,'' he all but growled.
There it was. That little smile she'd been fighting back. It pulled at the corner of her mouth for just a second. Just long enough to drive him crazy in about six different ways. Admittedly, not all bad ones.
''You don't usually mind it.''
''Yeah? Well, I don't appreciate the smug looks.''
That earned him a frown, and her hands fell from her head and found her own desk as she leaned forward. ''And I don't appreciate the crankiness. It is like working with a toddler.''
Now he kind of missed the smiling, but his brain wouldn't allow him to focus on that. ''That's easy for you to say, Little Miss Cobb salad,'' he bit back. ''Do you know the last time I ate?''
''Yes. 0800. You have mentioned it once or twice,'' she pretended to think for a moment. ''Or was that a hundred times? I lost count!''
Tony gave in to the sudden urge to violently jab the space bar on his keyboard a few times. It was therapeutic. Maybe. He was vaguely aware that Ziva's expression had now morphed into something much closer to bemusement as she looked on at his descent into madness. Surely she knew how insane a hungry DiNozzo could be after working with one for nearly five years? Well, if not, she was about to find out the hard way. Fourteen hours since his last significant meal was almost uncharted waters.
''It's a good thing McGeek's not here, or else I'd probably eat him.''
Ziva snorted, still yet to take her eyes off him as he continued to type complete gibberish into his keyboard. ''Use the vending machine,'' she offered helpfully. Or, at least, that was how he decided to interpret her tone, which was more like a harsh order in reality.
He groaned at the ceiling. ''I need something hot.''
''Oh, Lord…'''
''Hot and greasy. Not candy.''
She fell back into her chair, hands held up in defeat. ''Well, I don't know!'' She surrendered, just as he gave the J key a particularly good pounding. ''Breaking your computer will not help.''
An idea shot into his head then, and his own expression must have changed this time because when he looked down from the ceiling and back to Ziva, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ''I've still got…'' he glanced at his screen. ''Five searches left. You don't have any.''
''I am doing background checks.''
''Right. So—hypothetically—if you were to slip out for ten minutes—''
''No.''
He all but whined at her. ''Come on, Ziva. I'll owe you one.''
Again, she leaned forward with a glare. ''You called me smug.''
''I didn't mean it.''
''Ha!''
''I meant to say you looked pretty.'' He actually winced at his own pathetic attempt to win her over, but he was getting desperate. ''Really pretty.''
Her eyes narrowed further. ''And it was a caesar salad. Not cobb.''
''Whatever. Please? I'll take a McDonalds at this point.''
Ziva surprised him then, because rather than continue to take exactly zero of his crap, she tilted her head and gave him a look that he found kind of hard to read. It was somewhere between amused, disgusted and sympathetic. The other two, he dealt with on a daily basis, but the sympathy? He couldn't quite decide if he was imagining that part or not. He liked to think he knew all her Ziva-isms pretty well, but he wasn't sure he'd earned this. In, fact he knew he definitely didn't.
''I told you, we could have stopped on the way back from the crime scene,'' she reminded him.
Tony let out a sigh as heavy as his defeat. ''I was so naïve and innocent back then.''
Ziva rolled her eyes, and decided he was no longer worth the attention. He felt mildly betrayed that she would choose her monotonous work over him, and barely registered the fact that the elevator had dinged behind her. In fact, his exhausted eyes only stopped being glued to his partner's face when a familiar sports jacket blocked their view. The smell of coffee assaulted his nostrils, but it was the smell of what was in the accompanying plastic bag that had Tony sitting up suddenly.
He was like a dog. Head up, tongue almost out.
''Bon Appetit, DiNozzo'' Gibbs huffed.
Two greasy bags were dumped on Tony's desk, and he had to take a moment just to bask in their glory. Part of him wondered if he'd passed out and was now dreaming. He knew it had to be real, though, because Gibbs never featured in his dreams. Ziva on the other hand…
Stop it. Food time.
He began to unwrap the bigger of the two gifts and was hit with a smell so wonderfully unhealthy that he almost whimpered. ''I think I love you, boss.''
''Don't look at me.'' Gibbs placed a cup of what looked like tea on Ziva's desk. ''Your partner here texted me about half an hour ago.''
Tony looked up from his food in shock.
''Where's McGee?'' Gibbs asked.
''Abby's lab,'' Ziva told him.
With a nod, their boss was gone again.
Ziva took a sip off her tea and smiled to herself. It wasn't a smug smile this time. No, it was one of her happy little smiles that always made Tony's chest get all tingly. And the tingly-ness was only intensified by her gesture. It brought a smile to his face that he wouldn't dare fight off. She apparently did know how insane he got when he was hungry, and had clearly taken it upon herself to be pro-active in fighting against said insanity without him even knowing. Sneaky ninja.
''You played me.'' It was more in admiration than accusation.
Her eyebrows rose up and fell again. ''Philly cheese-steak and curly fries. That should be sufficiently greasy for you.''
His smile grew after he'd ripped enough of the paper to access the sandwich. ''I'm touched.''
The first bite of the cheese-steak, after he'd sunk his teeth into it like a Pit bull, was practically orgasmic. The groan he let out was at the complete opposite end of the spectrum from table manners, and he was surprised Ducky didn't teleport in front of him just to tell him off. He couldn't care less.
''Well, it was either feed you, or kill you.''
Tony swallowed. ''Is there not a third option?''
Her gaze turned sultry—for just long enough that he could catch it—before it returned to something a little safer. ''With you? Never.''
He raised an eyebrow at her before digging into the curly fries. ''Looks like I owe you one after all.''
''I could hear your stomach from where I'm sitting.'' Her focus returned to her screen once again. ''I was doing myself a favour.''
She could spin it however she wanted, Tony would let it slide. He was enjoying the hell out of his food. And he found himself shooting her another half-fond, half-impressed look before he could help himself. ''I can't believe you got Gibbs to do a food run.'' He shook his head in awe, no longer bothering to swallow his food before he spoke. ''And by text, no less!''
Ziva simply shrugged. ''I like to live dangerously. Yes?''
He grinned, appreciating the Bond quote.
Appreciating her even more.
Kind of random, I know. Hope you enjoyed it
