Ziva blinked at him, confused. And then burst out laughing. Something he really didn't appreciate. She was his partner; she wasn't supposed to laugh at him. Well, not so blatantly anyway. And especially not when he just walked up to her. What would the locals think of them? They already viewed them with suspicion but now the way Ziva was laughing at him they were going to think that they were crazy as well.

He pouted at first, knowing he wasn't going to get anything in edgewise when she was laughing like that. Did she really have to laugh that hard? She didn't, he decided. When she eventually stopped laughing enough to take notice of his pouting, she didn't even apologise, just shook her head and grinned at him. Grinned! She was grinning! So, he coughed pointedly to let her know that her reaction was not appreciated and she should try something else. Like some sympathy. Or agreement. Agreement would be good because he was in the right here, he knew he was. But she just continued to stare at him, raising an eyebrow with that stupid amused smile on her face. Okay, so it wasn't really a stupid smile. It was a nice smile. A very nice smile. He just didn't want to see it right now because there was nothing funny about him. Nothing funny at all. Even if her lips were twitching.

And now she was laughing again. This wasn't fair. This wasn't funny. And he couldn't even cross his arms to demonstrate that so he did the next best thing.

"Zee-vaaaah," he complained.

It was a complaint, not a whine. DiNozzo's didn't whine. They didn't. They complained. Loudly. They were good at both those things.

He even added a foot stomp to prove how serious he was. He tried not to think about how that made him feel like a toddler. That 'wasn't the point right now. Right now, all he wanted to do was to stop Ziva from laughing at him. That would be really nice.

"Are you aware that you are walking like you have no joints?" She asked him through her laughter.

He just huffed at her and crossed his arms. Or, well, tried to cross his arms. It was pretty hard to do that under the current circumstances. Because yes, he currently could not really bend at the joints. Which meant getting down stairs was pretty hard. Thank God the elevator was working but this hotel had steps up to it! Several times he thought he was going to go tumbling down! It wasn't funny!

"Tony, how many layers do you have on you?"

"A few," he replied, not really wanting to admit exactly how many he had on him. She raised an eyebrow. "Six," he muttered.

Which wasn't a lot! And he was including his underwear in that because he was actually wearing an undershirt like some sort of grandpa. So, five normal layers, right? And technically only four if you discounted his normal cloths of shirt and trousers. Four wasn't such a bad number...

"Is this why you were late out?" She asked, she gestured at him. "How long did it take you to put all of this on?"

Noe that was a question that he didn't want to answer so he looked away.

Which, of course, led her to question him again, "Tony? How long did it take you?"

He sighed and muttered something under his breath and she cupped a hand around her ear.

"What was that?"

"Half an hour," he said, looking down.

She smirked at him. "Louder, please."

He glared at her, knowing full well that she had heard him but she wasn't fazed by it at all. Not that he really expected her to be.

"You wasted all of that time getting all of this," she gestured at him. "On? And for what? You can barely move."

"Technically it was only the last three layers that took the most time," he grumbled.

He couldn't exactly bend his elbows or anything at that point.

"How on earth are you going to get it all off?" She asked, circling him to take everything in.

He spun around as she did so, a lot slower than her.

"Same way I put it on. With these," he waved his arms in the air and then frowned. "Well, in reverse. I can't take the layers closest to my body off first, obviously."

"I am actually quite skilled at that."

Which, of course, was a comment that made him snap his head towards her. Did she really just say that? Did she know what kind of images those words invoked? The way she was smirking at him proved that she definitely did.

"Aren't you feeling the cold?" He asked petulantly, just wanting to deflect from his stupidity and keeps his thoughts away from just how flexible Ziva was

... no! Bad thoughts!

"No," she said, looking far too smug.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're from a desert, as you like to keep on reminding me this season. Why are you not cold?"

"Because, unlike you, I never forget the existence of thermal underwear."

She didn't have to be so smug when she said that, she really didn't. Thermal underwear, why didn't he think of that? That should have been the first thing he thought of. It was the first thing he should have put on. Literally. Because, you know, it was underwear.

He narrowed his eyes at her, suddenly realising that she didn't quite look the same as she always did. And he knew how she looked because he did a lot of looking.

"How many layers of thermal underwear do you have on?"

"Is it normal to have more than one pair on?"

Now that was a deflection if he ever heard one. Or it could be Ziva trying to wind him up, if it wasn't for her slightly bulkier than normal appearance that definitely wasn't completely down to the jumper she was wearing underneath her coat. He particularly narrowed in on her legs and not for the reasons he usually did. Were her trousers sitting funny? Were they fuller than usual?