"Tommy and Lisa?" McGee asked with incredulity. "That's not even funny."
Ziva chuckled and flipped through their documents. "Did you really expect something different? You set yourself up when you wrote a book based upon . . ."
"For the last time, Ziva, I did not write a book based on anyone!" McGee slammed on the brakes as they reached a red light. He turned to her. "Do you really think I would have a character based off you falling for a character based off Tony?" He suddenly tightened up, realizing what that statement could imply.
Ziva tipped her head to study him. "And just who would this character based off me be falling for, then?"
McGee shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "It's not important. We have a killer to catch."
Ziva nodded slowly, turning her attention back to the documentation, at least for the moment. "When asked how we met, we'll say you were stationed in Israel for a year, and we stumbled upon each other while you were off-base. It was love at first sight." Ziva sighed melodramatically, enveloping herself in the story.
McGee gave her a doubtful look as they reached another stoplight. "I'm highly doubting this killer is going to ask when and where we met, Ziva."
She shrugged, flipping her folder closed. "You never know who's going to ask these things. It's best to be prepared." She turned towards him, raising a finger. "Isn't that your motto from, what was it? Boy something . . ."
"Scouts," McGee responded, taking a right turn. "And yes, always be prepared is the motto. You're right."
Ziva smirked triumphantly, then looked up to see the base looming ahead of them. "There it is. Home sweet home."
McGee nodded, both in agreement and because she got an American saying correct. "You ready?"
Ziva grinned. "I may even allow you to carry me over the doorway."
McGee attempted to hide his fright. "Um, it's threshold, and um, I think I'll decline that offer." He pulled into the driveway of their house, and turned off the engine.
As they stepped from the vehicle, Ziva slammed the door and sidled over to the driver's side and leaned against the hood, doing her best to look sexy – which wasn't that hard in the first place. "Think you can't handle me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Well . . ." he trailed off, looking at his shoes and toeing the ground. "It's just that . . ."
"What?" Ziva asked softly, stepping closer to hear his answer.
He looked up suddenly. "I'd have to catch you off-guard." With that, he picked her up in a fireman's carry and ran for the door, Ziva laughing the entire way.
They reached the door and McGee had to fumble around for the housekey, as Ziva kicked at him, wanting down.
"McGee! Put me down!" she screamed, still laughing.
"It's Tommy," McGee responded in a deep voice, as if he were channeling Tony, and he pushed the door open. As they entered the house, he allowed her to slide down, and suddenly their faces were mere inches apart.
McGee cleared his throat and backed away, not wanting to be tempted into doing something he shouldn't be. "Uh, we should get unpacked."
Ziva closed her eyes and nodded quickly, following him into the living room. "So, what brought on the macho act?"
He turned to face her, misinterpreting her words. "Excuse me?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Carrying me into the house just now. I was just joking around . . ."
"I know that, Ziva," he responded a little harsher than intended.
Ziva gave him a steely look. "Lisa. Thank you for ruining a perfectly nice moment." She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving McGee shaking his head.
Back at NCIS, Abby and Gibbs had witnesses the entire exchange, and Gibbs smirked. "I'd say they're going to do a stellar job pulling off this marriage act." He took a sip of his coffee, chuckling to himself.
Abby, on the other hand, was not quite as excited as Gibbs. She sat there, slumped down in her chair, a glare directed at the video feed. "Why does it even matter that they look married? It's not like the serial killer cares. And it's not like they have to prove it to anyone else."
Gibbs gave her a sidelong look. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."
Abby sputtered. "Why would I be jealous of Ziva? It's not like her and McGee are actually married. I know that." Gibbs gave her a look. "What? I do. So they can go on and play house and I won't care a bit."
Gibbs nodded, raising an eyebrow. He had a feeling there was going to be some reigning in that would be needed with his team after this case. But that could wait – there was a serial killer on the loose, and that was inherently more important than the personal lives of his agents and of one green-eyed lab technician.
"Let's see what's going on, Abbs," he said softly. They zoomed back in on the agents, and found McGee had caught up with Ziva, and was attempting an apology, which she was not accepting.
"Come on, Ziva, would you just listen to me? That's all I'm asking." McGee stalked around behind Ziva, trying to get forgiveness from her.
Ziva suddenly turned, almost knocking McGee over in the process. "Fine. I will listen."
McGee started to speak again, but then stopped, looking nervous.
"What is it?" Ziva prompted.
"I . . . I can't do this with the cameras and everything," he explained, turning redder by the word.
Back at NCIS, both Abby and Gibbs rolled their eyes. Gibbs picked up a hand-held radio and spoke into it. "McGee! Get over yourself!"
McGee heard the order and gulped, knowing that he'd have to disobey it. "Uh, Boss, I don't think you understand. I need to speak to Ziva . . . privately."
At this revelation, Abby positively seethed. "You're not going to take them off surveillance, are you?" she asked, not wanting things between those two to get any cozier than they already were.
Gibbs shrugged. "It'll only be for a few minutes, Abbs. Besides, the sooner he gets this out of his system, the more he'll be focused on the case."
Abby narrowed her eyes at him. "You're being awfully nice, Gibbs. What gives?"
"I am not being nice," he retorted, and turned on the radio again. "McGee! You're getting three minutes. Go."
"Thank you, Bo . . ." McGee's voice was cut off as Gibbs turned off the surveillance equipment.
"I can't believe you just did that," Abby said, shaking her head. "This is my equipment . . ."
"Yeah, and my case," Gibbs finished. "I can do whatever the hell I want, and if that means three minutes for McGee to apologize or tell Ziva he loves her or . . ."
"He wouldn't, would he?" Abby asked, petrified.
"I don't know, Abby," Gibbs replied, aggravated. "All I know is that McGee bumbling over something stupid he did is going to get us nowhere. And if he's distracted when that killer comes . . ."
Abby's eyes widened. She turned back to the blank screen in front of her and started a silent mantra: Please don't be admitting love. Please don't be admitting love. Please don't be . . .