30 day challenge notes: quantity over quality, limited editing, stand-alone/unrelated stories unless specifically stated otherwise, not always tiva, chronologically randomly set in whatever pre-s11 season seems to fit
A/N: Tiva-ish, Tony finds a four leaf clover
Prompt: four leaf clover
Adrenaline rushed through his veins as his feet pounded the pavement, closing the distance between him and the suspect inch by inch. Just a few more feet and he would be close enough to take him down. Spotting a field of grass to his right that could soften their fall, Tony pushed himself to the limit and tackled the suspect.
The ensuing struggle was short-lived. Trying to catch his breath, Tony placed a knee on the man's back, pulling his arms back to cuff him, just as Ziva caught up with them. He wanted to ask her what took her so long, but the look on her face told him not to.
As Tony moved to get up, he spotted a four leaf clover and picked it. He held it up to the suspect's face. "Must be my lucky day, because yours just ran out," he said, and pocketed the shamrock.
The drive back to the Navy Yard went smoothly; not a peep out of the perp, not a red light in sight, and a parking spot right next to the elevator. As Tony got their suspect out of the backseat, he heard Ziva cuss as the passenger door slammed shut. He glanced in her direction, and saw her fiddle with something obstructed from view. Before he could ask her if she needed help, she was rounding the car and grabbing their suspect by the arm, all but dragging him to the elevator.
Tony hit the elevator button and the doors opened instantly. "I should buy a lottery ticket," he said, as they got in, and positioned the suspect in front of them, facing the elevator doors. Not getting any reaction from Ziva, he observed her rigid posture and the scowl on her face. Maybe he could get her to open up while Gibbs was in interrogation.
Ziva glanced up at him, her brow wrinkling as she reached up to touch his left temple. "You're bleeding?"
As she lowered her hand into her jacket pocket, he touched his temple, suddenly feeling the sting of a cut he hadn't noticed before. When he withdrew his hand there was some coagulated blood on his fingertips.
Beside him, Ziva struggled to get her free right hand out of her left pocket. He frowned noticing the tear in the jacket that definitely hadn't been there that morning. Before he had a chance to ask about it, she produced a clean handkerchief and raised it to dab at his temple.
Scrutinizing the cut, her mood seemed to have mellowed. "It does not appear to be deep." She placed the bloodied handkerchief in her right pocket, and superficially palpated the area around the cut with her fingers. "Don't think you need stitches."
The suspect glanced over his shoulder at the commotion behind him. "If you're done playing doctor and nurse, maybe you can loosen my cuffs?"
Like lightning, Ziva slapped the back of his head.
"That's police brutality!"
Tony pulled on his cuffed right arm. "Oh, yeah? Take it up with our boss, he's well-versed in the art of head slaps, and from experience I can tell that was barely a love tap."
As soon as the elevator doors slid open they marched him to the interrogation room. Ziva left to get Gibbs while Tony waited in observation. Watching the young man fidget through the one-way mirror, he knew it wouldn't take long before he told Gibbs everything they needed to know. He pursed his lips, getting Ziva to spill the beans would be a lot harder.
As Gibbs walked into interrogation, the suspect startled, almost tipping his chair back. Tony let out a chuckle, and at sound of the door handle turning, he said, "It's our lucky day, Ziva, this is going to be over in the blink of an eye."
She walked up next to him without a word, scowl replaced by a grimace, while cradling her left hand.
"What happened?"
Ziva pressed her lips together. "Slammed my fingers in the drawer."
Tony grimaced in sympathy, and gently held her hand up to get a better look in the dimly lit room. "You should put some ice on that."
"After the interrogation."
He raised his eyebrows. "Now."
"You said it would be over in the blink of an eye."
Tony was about to protest, when, from the corner of his eye, he watched Gibbs slide his chair back and smugly walk out of interrogation.
Her voice sounded weary. "It really is your lucky day."
"Hm," he said, seeing an opening to ask about her mood. "You should stick close to me, then, yours doesn't seem to be going well, at all."
Ziva sighed heavily. "I broke a glass of water this morning and stepped on a shard, my car wouldn't start, and then running after the suspect the wound opened and slowed me down." She lifted the corner of her jacket. "Then I got my jacket stuck in the car door, and-"
"Huh, usually getting you to open up is like pulling teeth."
"I'm not in the mood, Tony."
"Are you in the mood for drinks after work?"
Ziva blew out a noisy breath.
"My luck might rub off on you." He pulled the shamrock from his pocket and held it up with a frown. "I think there's movie about this."
She chuckled. "Of course there is."
He took her uninjured hand and placed the four leaf clover in it, leaned in, and said, "You can be my luck tonight."
With a coy smile, she said, "Fine."
"Good," he said, a flutter in his stomach, "let's get patched up first." Whistling "Luck Be A Lady Tonight", he guided her out of the room.