I actually wrote half of another meet cute AU yesterday, to post today, but figured two of those in a row might be a bit much. Not sure about what I wrote instead...

Set early in their partnership, budding Tony and Ziva friendship.


"Archery," she said, pointing to her left, eyes wide as she grabbed his arm, like a kid spotting Santa Claus in August.

"We're not here to have fun, Ziva." Her brows furrowed and she let go of his arm. Not feeling guilty for spoiling her fun—if he was in a bad mood so should everyone else—he took it a step further. "Tell you what, if we catch our perp, and you're a good little girl, I'll buy you a caramel apple."

He really should have known better, trying to pat her on the head was just adding injury to insult. The injury was all his, of course. Ziva had intercepted his hand before it even came close to the top of her head. Pain shot through his body and all he could think of was freeing himself, his deep-rooted hatred of funfairs the furthest thing from his mind. He suddenly understood why wild animals gnawed off a limb to get out of a trap.

Of course, he had laid this trap out all for himself.

"Uncle," he said and grit his teeth.

She let go of his hand, and looked around. "Where?"

"What?" He flexed and stretched his arm and hand.

She looked up at him. "Where is your uncle?"

He blinked slowly, rolled his eyes, and walked off.

"What?" She said, before following a step behind, brows knit together tightly.

They reached the end of the fair, still no sign of their drug dealer, when Ziva's eye landed on a house of mirrors. "Oh look, Tony, that's right up your alley."

He flashed her a cold smile, memories of a summer he had successfully repressed rearing their ugly head. "I don't know whether to be impressed that you got that idiom right, or insulted."

She chuckled, then elbowed his arm and nodded at the entrance; their suspect had finally showed up. He looked around suspiciously, then walked inside.

Tony groaned and rubbed his stiff neck. "Of all the attractions, in all the carnivals, in all the world, he walks into that one."

Ziva narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "What?"

He sighed in frustration. "Just go," he grumbled, and flashed his badge at the operator near the entrance.

When he walked out into the sun 10 minutes later, pushing the handcuffed suspect in front of him, his mood had lifted considerably. He looked back at Ziva, dabbing at her face with a bloody handkerchief, while arguing with the house of mirrors operator.

"And I am telling you to contact NCIS if you want those mirrors replaced." She stalked away from the man angrily.

Tony smirked briefly when she caught up with him.

"I am so glad you finally find something amusing," she said testily as they reached the car.

He shook his head. "It's not like that," he said and looked at her. The cuts on her cheek, and her nose had stopped bleeding, but that bump on her forehead looked like it was trying to rival Mount Everest. "You'll want to get your head checked out, that bump is starting to look nasty."

She touched a finger to her forehead and winced slightly.

He pushed the drug dealer into the backseat, and closed the car door.

"Why do you hate the carnival so much," Ziva asked standing next to the passenger door.

He leaned his arms on top of the car roof and looked at her, contemplating telling her the truth, or making up something outrageous. Taking in the cuts, the bump, and what was probably a broken nose and soon to be black eye, he decided she deserved the truth.

"When I was 15, I was at a carnival with some buddies, trying to impress a girl." He scoffed at his own teenage stupidity. "Claimed I could run through the house of mirrors in 1 minute." He grimaced, taking in her injuries again. "I came out looking much like you, except I had to pay for the broken glass out of my allowance. My friends thought it was hilarious, I was the laughing stock for the rest of the summer."

She had listened quietly with an intrigued expression. He hoped she wasn't filing away the embarrassing anecdote so she could hold it against him later. Or share it with McGee.

"Sounds like you could have used better friends," she said, and gave him a tight smile.

A smile tugged at his own lips; getting to know her, really know her, was going to take a long time. "Why don't we come back after work," he suggested. "I'll buy you that caramel apple for being a good little NCIS agent."

She scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue, then got into the car. He chuckled, sliding into the driver's seat. However long it took to figure her out, it certainly wouldn't be boring.


A/N: Thank you all for reading, liking, commenting, sharing,...any of my fics, I truly appreciate it.