Leaning against the mirror in Observation, Ziva crossed her arms and tapped her left fingers against her right biceps, annoyed with more than the progress of the case. Still, the first round of the day in this room had gone much smoother. Confronted with a double murder charge, Manfredi had decided that a deal was better than a chance for the death penalty and taken all of ten minutes to confess to the murder-for-hire of Corpsman Coker. He had also denied any responsibility for or knowledge of Terry Sutton's death. Ziva, like Gibbs, was inclined to believe him. His main request was that he not be placed in a cell where his partner could get to him.

Johnson, for his part, was proving far less accommodating. "Look, it sounds to me like all you have is what the TV calls circumstantial evidence and the word of some idiot trying to save his own skin."

Gibbs flipped through the folder in front of him. "Funny, you guys seemed like such good friends yesterday."

"Yeah, well, my friends don't lie to the feds about stuff I didn't do. He probably killed these people and now he's blaming me so he doesn't have to take the fall. I'm an innocent victim here. Maybe I wanna press charges against Petty Officer Manfredi for, uh, libel."

Gibbs continued to flip through his papers, head still down. "Defamation. Libel applies to print."

"What a tool." Tony took a large bite of donut and spoke around it, "Whe's Gibbs gon bake 'im?"

Ziva turned her attention away from the one-way mirror. "How many donuts have you eaten?"

"Uh…" He swallowed only with some effort. "Not too many. You did bring back a dozen."

"They were for everyone!"

"What, the whole office? Because we've got way more than a dozen people working…"

"For the team, I mean."

Jelly squirted from the side of the donut as he took another bite. "Immon teh team."

"You are impossible." With a sigh, she reached over to wipe jelly from the side of his face. "Like a child."

"I would have gotten that." He finished his donut and licked his fingers; she found a napkin to finally get the jelly off her thumb. "Those were pretty good. You get them at the same place you had breakfast with CI-Ray?"

"Yes." The reply sounded too curt to her ear, so she added, "They have a bakery."

"Belgian waffle place?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I haven't been there in a long time." She narrowed her eyes at him. "What? I just meant that I'll have to go again soon if they're making donuts this good."

"Perhaps you could have come to breakfast with us if you had bothered to shower and change prior to this morning."

"Yeah, I'm sure you both would have been thrilled to have an audience."

Her temper flared; how did he know? "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that donuts provide a more satisfying sugar rush than that weird giggly-flirty thing you do with him." He held up his hands, probably in anticipation of fending off an attack. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing for you, just that I really don't want to watch."

She debated hitting him, but ended up gnawing a fingernail. Breakfast had not involved much flirting this morning. "Is it really that…does it look like that?"

"Huh? No. Just, y'know…different. Kind of not what I would expect from spies in love."

"Life is not like a James Bond movie."

"That's not what I was thinking." He immediately found something very interesting on the floor that consumed his attention.

"Of course you weren't." She tried to focus on what was going on in Interrogation, but the cat and mouse game was still going nowhere. It was draining, all this watching and waiting in the wings… Speaking of which, Tony was watching her carefully. "Shouldn't you be paying attention?"

"It's all on tape." He pulled at his belt. "Oh, shouldn't have had that third donut. Gonna have to do some extra crunches this weekend." His nonchalance became palpable. "You, uh, have any plans for the weekend? We're not on call and this crap should be wrapped up. I mean, unless he's busy with CIA stuff again…"

A sigh escaped before she could stop it. "We had thought about going away, but we are staying in town."

"So he is working?"

"No." She paused to consider an answer that wouldn't make her too angry all over again about the loss of their weekend away from work. "He just needs to be available."

"For the CIA."

"Yes. Obviously."

"Obviously," he repeated under his breath. "Well, if he's not going to take the full two weeks to monopolize you, there's a Marx Brothers festival this weekend, if you want to…"

"Tony…"

"If not, that's fine, but…I mean, with me and EJ and you and him, we haven't really had much time to hang out much lately. I kinda miss getting shushed by strangers in a darkened theater for whispering too loudly when I have to explain why the plays on words are funny."

"That only happened once! Perhaps twice…"

"Minimum. Per movie."

She smiled in spite of herself. "If, by some unlikely chance, Ray is otherwise occupied by his job, I will give you…"

A chair suddenly hit the mirror, causing them both to jump away from the starburst cracks of the impact. In Interrogation, Johnson was standing, attempting to pick up the table in his cuffed hands while Gibbs continued to flip through the file; at least he had finally looked up. Ziva followed Tony into the hallway a moment later to burst through the door and take down the enraged petty officer. She wasn't terribly gentle about it; there was plenty of suppressed rage channeled into crushing the man into the carpet.

Gibbs didn't stand until they had yanked a cowed Johnson back to his feet. "Two charges for murder and one for destroying federal property. You're payin' for my mirror, Johnson."

The adrenaline rush of the takedown had worn off by the time Johnson was in a holding cell. Ziva leaned against the wall of the elevator as she and Tony returned to the bullpen. A weekend in DC with Ray wasn't such a bad thing. It was possible that leaving would be tempting fate; the easier it was for him to go to Langley, the less likely he would be to get called in. Or so logic would… She closed her eyes. "Marx Brothers?"

"Only if…"

"What time on Saturday?"

"I thought…"

"Just tell me what time, Tony."

"Six. But don't blow off Ray just to…he can come."

"We will see."

A minute later, Tony opened the box of donuts on her desk and picked up the last one. Before she could admonish him, he held it out to her. "Look, it's pink with sprinkles. It's a girly donut. Enjoy."

She did.