Title: The DiNozzo Diaries 3: The Accidental Tourist
Author: rekkidbraka
Rating: T
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.
Category: Romance; humor; angst
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Spoilers: From final two eps. of Season 6
Summary: Sequel to "The DiNozzo Diaries 1 & 2." Special Agent Tony DiNozzo's most private thoughts and desires revealed, chapter by chapter. TIVA. Warning: Intense sexual content in some chapters. No slash.

-------------------- The DiNozzo Diaries 3: The Accidental Tourist ---------------------

Hey, never let it be said that Tony DiNozzo doesn't like surprises. I like surprises. I do.

Take these, for example...

-- Back in my college days at Ohio State, when I passed out at the annual "Beat The Pants Off Michigan And The Panties Off Their Cheerleaders" kegger after some epic funneling, I woke up two days after the game with the worst hangover I've EVER had (which is really saying something) and I was tied down to the pool table in our frat house, naked and oiled up with... something, and there was a hot chick on top of me wearing nothing but a 10-gallon cowboy hat, boots and matching chaps in OSU red and silver, yelling "RIDE 'EM, COWBOY! GO BUCKEYES!" at the top of her lungs. She was wasted. That... was a nice surprise.

-- As a cop in Baltimore, I once went undercover as a male stripper as part of this sting where we were trying to bust a madam who was pimping out guys to the women her "strippers" were "performing" for. The guys would go to a "job" to "strip" and then, once the supposedly legitimate stripping was done, the illegal super-hot stripping -- among other things -- where cash changed hands would begin. That's where I came in. (Sorry... terrible choice of words there. Heh.) Anyway, I was sent to strip for a group of ultra-hot supermodels and the madam I was investigating told me that once the "party" was over... well... the after-party was all ME. That sucked because I had to bust all those gorgeous girls. But it turned out that one of the "supermodels" was an undercover FBI agent. So we hooked up later for our own, um, debriefing on the case -- among other things. That... was a nice surprise.

-- When Ziva and I got back from Tel Aviv the first time, we went to the mall so she could pick up some new clothes and other things. You know, seeing as how all her old stuff got blown up with her old apartment. Anyway, while she was off buying something sensible and with enough pockets for all her ninja chick accessories and knives and ammo and whatever else she hides that I never want to know about, I snuck off to Le Lingerie and surprised her later when we got home with a specially gift-wrapped little box of silky bras and thongs and... other goodies. The joke was on ME -- ha-HAH! -- because when she took 'em out of the wrapper, I was the one who ended up ... thong-modeling. Tight fit, but ohhhhh so smooth in all the right places. Man-smooth, I mean. That... was a NICE surprise.

But Eli David? Standing in our doorway at 3 a.m., totally unannounced, telling us he's only in D.C. to "handle some minor business, nothing to worry about" and claiming he just felt like popping by to see Ziva (and me, of course)?

That... is NOT a nice surprise.

With Eli, "nothing to worry about" means all hell's broken loose. You'll find out when soon enough.

And so now I'm waiting. For the next surprise.