First of all: Thank you very much for the well-wishes for my grandfather. His condition has not improved and nor it is ever likely to. The doctors have done what they can for him, so basically he is just waiting.
To those of you who suggested I have Tony and Ziva ask about their tattoos, that is actually a brilliant idea, but I did not even thought to include it when I wrote this. I really wanted to add it now, but than I would have to change the entire story forward. So sorry, guys.
I got some of these answers from the website .com. I take no credit for making them up, but the rest are fictional. I know we find these out over like eight seasons of the show, but here it's done with one game. (I didn't quite get to twenty though.) I altered their ages a little for this fic, because Ziva being 23 and Tony 37 was a bit weird.
Disclaimer: No. I just borrowed it's awesomeness.
They entered the living room and Tony sat down in the middle of the couch. Ziva sat next to him with her one leg bent at the knee, facing him and the lower part of her leg pressing into his upper thigh.
"So, how are we going to do this? Do one of us ask a question and then both of us answer it?" Tony asked her once they were comfortably settled in.
"That sounds reasonable. Will you start?"
"Okay Miss David, what is your favourite colour?"
"Black," she answered immediately. "What?" she asked at the look on his face.
"That's so depressing. I like green."
"It is not depressing, it is elegant and classy," she insisted. "Now, it is my turn. What is your blood type?"
Tony laughed. "Only a crazy Israeli Ninja Chick will ask that as her first question. It's A positive. Yours?"
"AB negative. Your turn."
"Uhm… Let's see… Embarrassing memory?"
"Urgh. Only you would ask that. I slept with stuffed toys until I was twelve. And if you ever repeat that, I will kill you in your sleep," she threatened.
"Duly noted. I slept in a canopy bed when I was younger."
"What is your favourite food?" was her next question.
"You're kidding right? PIZZA! With pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese."
"I should have known," she laughed. "With all those pizza ingredients you bought when we went to the store. Next question?"
"You didn't answer yet."
"Oh, well I do not really have a favourite type of food. I eat what I get."
"Miss No Fuss. Figures. Okay… Next question… What is your favourite movie?"
"The Sound of Music," she answered him. "Do not pull your face like that! It is an excellent movie!"
"I disagree. I like any James Bond better."
"Of course. What is you favourite book?"
"Movie person here," he said while raising his hand to indicate himself. "But I would like to know yours."
"Moby Dick by Herman Melville."
"Impressive. Now let's see… What are you afraid of?"
"Being captured alive. You?"
"Vampires. And rats. And needles." He shuddered. "I can't stand them."
"Poor you," she teased. "How old are you?"
"Why that evil question? I'm thirty-five," he answered with a pout.
"You are worse about your age than women!"
"Whatever. How old are you?"
"Twenty-six."
"Oh to be that young again!" he sighed dramatically and she laughed. "My turn. Who is your favourite singer or band?"
"There is this Israeli band called Hadag Nahash whom I like. Out of the American ones it has to be Kinky."
"Nice! Mine has to be Old Blue Eyes Himself."
"'Old Blue Eyes'?"
"Frank Sinatra!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, of course. What is your favourite song?"
"Fly me to the moon. Yours?"
"I do not really have one. I like quite a few."
"What is your happiest childhood memory?"
"I took ballet lessons when I was little. I loved being able to dance."
"I can only imagine you in a tutu," he said with a faraway look in his eyes. "OW!" he yelled as she hit him on the shoulder again.
"Stop fantasising about me in a tutu then! Now it is your turn to answer."
"I can't really answer that. My childhood wasn't really something to be remembered."
"I am sorry," she said softly.
"Nah, it's okay. Your question?"
"What is your favourite season?"
"Summer, without a doubt. Yours?"
"Growing up in a desert, I like the American winters. I like the snow."
"Well you're going to see a lot of it once this blizzard is over."
"I hope so."
"Hmm, it is starting to get more difficult thinking of questions." They were silent for a moment. "What is your shoe size?"
"Seven."
"I'm a thirteen."
"Do you have a favourite quote?"
"Only from every movie I have ever seen!"
"Too many to state then. Mine is 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' by Edmund Burke."
"Nice one. Where have you gone on holiday?"
"As a child we went to Haifa a lot. And you?"
"The Hamptons."
"Any hidden talents?"
"Of course! I know all the good movies."
"Hardly a 'hidden' talent!"
"If I tell you my actual one, it won't be a secret anymore. I'll surprise you one day."
"Fine. I can play the piano."
"That is so cool! My mother had me take lessons when I was five, but I stopped after she died." He fell silent suddenly.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'd like to learn again one day."
"Maybe I will teach you."
"Really?" he asked excitedly.
"If you behave," she teased him.
"I'll try my best." They were silent again. "I can't think of anymore questions," he said just as thunder clapped above them and Ziva jumped about a foot in the air. Tony's hand fell on her leg in a gesture of comfort. "Looks like the storm is coming."
When he got no answer from Ziva, he turned to see her looking at where his hand had fallen.
"Sorry," he apologised and tried to remove his hand, but she grabbed it before he could and put it back where it was.
"It is okay. You are not forbidden from touching me."
"Okay," he answered, overjoyed on the inside.
Thunder clapped again and he heard a small whimper fall from Ziva's lips. He knew from the other night that she didn't really like the thunder and he wondered why it agitated her so much. Squeezing her leg, he decided to find out.
"Ziva," he asked softly. "Why don't you like the thunder?"
She looked up at him after a few seconds and he saw there were traces of tears in her eyes. Her voice was trembling when she answered him.
"It sounds like gunfire."