Tony is a skirt-chaser. Tony knows that he is a skirt-chaser, he admits to it, and anyone who knows him for more than five seconds also understands this, especially if they are female. Being a skirt-chaser, Tony has often been accused of doing anything to get a girl in bed, but that is where the accusers are wrong. Tony would never force a girl to sleep with him, not that he's had much trouble with getting one to, especially not Abby, the forcing bit that is. But somehow she thought he had, which was why he was now poring over security tapes from the bar they had gone to last night. Unfortunately, the bar had just handed him a stack of tapes and said that it was in there somewhere.
It was a little past noon, and everyone else had left for lunch, everyone but Tony. He was only on the second tape, but he had already given up any hope of finding something. He sighed and rubbed his temples. There was nothing for it. He'd have to go talk to her.
He stopped the tape and headed for the elevator. There's always the chance that she's out to lunch, he considered on his way down. I might not have to talk to her... The thought trailed off hopefully. He was out of the elevator and halfway to the lab before he heard the hard sounds of her favorite CD. The volume was turned way down, an ominous sign. He entered the room, and saw Abby, scowling at the computer screen.
"Hey," he said. What a stupid thing to say, he thought, after whatever it was that happened. She didn't turn around, ignoring him decisively. In fact, the only way that he could tell that she'd heard him was when she grabbed the stereo remote and turned the music up.
"Look, about last night," he began, "I honestly don't know what happened." She still said nothing.
"Well, did you check to see if...I mean, did I, um...are you�" he kept trailing off lamely.
"Pregnant?" she spat, spinning around and slamming her hands down on the metal table. "Yes, Tony, I checked and no, you didn't get me pregnant when we had sex last night. You're not a father, thank God," she yelled in disgust and continued. "Where do you get off trying to sex me up like one of your bimbo cheerleaders? Who do you think you are? 'Cause you sure as hell aren't the Tony I thought I knew, the Tony I trusted. Or maybe you are that Tony, but you've just been lying to me ever since we met," she finished, breathing heavily, and turned back to her work to hide the tears brimming in her eyes.
"You should go now, Agent DiNozzo," she said frostily, not wanting to show weakness.
Tony was frozen to the spot, shocked by this outburst. Coming to his senses, he spun on his heel and walked out of the lab. He walked and walked, until he got outside, then he began to run. It didn't matter to him that he was expected back in the bullpen soon. It didn't matter to him that he was running in new dress shoes, and looked like a complete idiot. All that mattered was that he got away, away from it all, and that he put every ounce of pain, and misunderstanding, and confusion into each step. All that mattered was that each step took him further and further away from his problems. He ran with no idea where he was going, and no intention of stopping.
Finally after countless minutes, his run slowed to a jog, and his jog to a walk. He looked around to find himself in an unfamiliar neighborhood, but he didn't care. As he walked, a black sedan pulled up next to him and the window rolled down to reveal Ziva in the driver's seat.
"Get in the car," she ordered and Tony obliged without arguing. They drove in silence for a few minutes and when Ziva next spoke, they were pulling into the parking lot.
"You're an idiot, Tony," she said. He didn't reply, but followed her up to the bullpen.
"What? Aren't you even going to ask why?" she continued.
"Not today, Ziva," Tony told her tiredly. "I appreciate the ride, but just leave me alone."
"Suit yourself," she said, grinning somewhat evilly.
"Wait, what's with the smile? What's going on?" Tony asked suspiciously. Ziva just continued to grin. Finally, they arrived at the bullpen and Tony was surprised to see the contents of the security tapes he had gotten displayed on the plasma screen.
"You're an idiot, but you're really lucky," Ziva told him.