"Maybe this wasn't such a good trade after all," Tony said nervously as they walked back to the car.

As soon as they had finished their sandcastles they decided to leave. Tony thinking that they had kept Gibbs waiting long enough and Ziva not really wanting to be left alone with her thoughts on the last time she had built sandcastles. She was also resigned to the fact that they were both going to get head slaps for this escapade. A quick glance to the clock showed that that had definitely not been as quick a trip as Tony claimed it would be. Yep, Gibbs was definitely not going to be pleased.

"I told you that building sandcastles instead of returning to the office was a bad idea," Ziva said, putting the keys in the ignition.

"What? No, not that," Tony said and gestured at the steering wheel and her. "I meant this whole letting you drive back thing."

He really was having second thoughts. Which was a bit unfair of him but that was hardly his fault. Now that the excitement of the beach had worn off and they had a whole journey ahead of them, what he had just signed himself up for had hit him.

"We made a deal," she reminded him.

Because they had. He had been the one to suggest it and she had agreed, it had been a fair enough trade he had thought. At the time.

"We did. And I'm now regretting it."

Really, really regretting it. Just what had he been thinking, giving Ziva the opportunity to drive? Had it really been worth it?

"Too bad."

"We could swap seats?"

"No."

"But-"

"I thought you did not back out of deals, Tony?"

He bristled at that. "Of course, I don't! What do you take me for, Senior?"

Her face softened briefly at that before she smirked at him. "You are unlike anyone, Tony."

That was her telling him that he wasn't like his father. That was good. She might not have met him (And never was going to meet him if he had anything to do with it) but he'd talked of him. And Ziva could read him like he could read her. She understood enough about his dad that it was important to him to not be like him. He wasn't like his dad.

"Good," he muttered under his breath.

He knew that Ziva would have heard it, he was right next to her and she had cat-like hearing but she was tactful enough not to draw attention to it.

"This means that you will keep your deal then?"

"We could make a new one?" He said hopefully.

Hey, they'd been sitting here a while and she hadn't even turned the keys or anything. Maybe this whole looming situation could be avoided.

"No, I quite like this one."

She said that almost gleefully as she turned the key. He instinctively braced himself as she reversed with a jolt and made the car screech out of the car park. Thank God they were the only ones there.

Surprisingly, except for the normal abrupt swerving around cars, Ziva didn't drive that badly. She even stopped at a stop sign. Though, that might have more to do with the cat trying to cross the road than any urge to obey traffic laws.

"Sand is coming out of your pockets," she pointed out when they got a bit further down the road.

Tony tried to twist his body around to see as well as keep his eyes on the road. Something he wasn't successful at.

"Seriously?" He asked, deciding that a quick check to confirm would not put them in more danger than they already were.

Ziva nodded and took her hand off the wheel to point, "That one."

"Both hands on the wheel!" He yelped.

"I am just trying to help," but she did as he asked.

Seriously, how had she never been in an accident? He shook those thoughts away from him and focused on his current problem. As in, the sand that was apparently shedding off him. Great just great. How did it even get in his pockets like that? The car was going to be covered in sand forever now. He tugged at the lining so that it was hanging outside his trousers and a shower of sand came out. That was a lot of sand.

"Tony!" Ziva complained as she heard it coat Everything.

"I didn't realise there was so much!"

Seriously, it was like he was carrying a beach in there. Fantastic. He occupied himself for the next few minutes trying to get as much sand off his clothes as possible. He wasn't that successful because now the cuffs of his jacket had some from all his efforts to brush it away from him.

Eventually he had to come to the conclusion that this was the best he was going to manage and fell back against his seat, annoyed with himself. He needed a distraction. He quickly glanced at Ziva in thought and then looked away.

"Are you not always telling me that you should keep your eyes on the road?"

"It's a red light and traffic's backed up in front of us. Also, you're the one driving."

"And my eyes are on the road."

"Then mine don't have to be."

But he did keep his eyes in front after that. Until he glanced her way again.

"What?" She asked in exasperation.

"Nothing."

"It is something."

"No. It's not."

A few beats of silence passed and he couldn't help himself.

"You can admit that you had fun, you know."

She had fun. He knew she had fun because he knew her. Also, it had been kind of obvious when she had been so entranced with building her sandcastle. Which, yes, was better than his but he wasn't going to admit that. Of course, he wasn't. But she still didn't answer him.

"I won't tell anyone." He added.

"Because there is nothing to tell."

"Because I won't tell anyone."

Seriously, he wasn't going to tell anyone. Who would believe him anyway? The Great and terrifying Ziva David down at the beach building sandcastles? Yeah, they'd recommend him for a psych eval for that one. Not that he would tell anyone in the first place. This whole thing was private and personal. Just between them.

"Fine," she huffed. "I had fun, are you happy?"

He leaned back and put his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.

"Extremely."

Well, he was relaxed until Ziva decided to try and overtake someone who really didn't want to be overtaken.

"Ziva!" He shouted clutching at the door handle.

It may have come out more like a shriek.