Tony looked around Ziva's kitchen with a look of fondness on his face and briefly wondered when this had become a tradition. Or was it a nearly-tradition? Was that a thing? He was making it a thing because he didn't think that doing the same thing two years in a row necessarily made it a tradition, so it was a nearly-tradition.

A nearly-tradition that he wouldn't mind becoming and actual tradition. Especially since it involved baking cookies. Anything that involved cookie consumption regularly should definitely be a tradition in his books.

So, that's what he and Ziva were doing. They were baking Christmas cookies again this year. Or was it winter cookies because Ziva was Jewish? But she had called them Christmas cookies... he was probably looking too much into it. Whatever they were, the main thing was that they were cookies and he was going to be eating an unholy amount of them. And there would be no sharing with anyone else this time. Well, maybe there would be if they made as many as he wanted to, but they got first dibs. That went without saying. Obviously.

Well, it almost hadn't happened, but he ensured that it did. Come on, there were cookies on the line here. He couldn't pass that up!

Tony couldn't believe his partner. Seriously, he really couldn't believe it. He thought she was mean to be intelligent. Observant. On top of her game. One of the best. You would think that all that would mean that she would understand pretty quickly what he was trying to get across. But nooooo. She didn't. And it was infuriating. Why didn't she get it?

"Exactly how much hinting do I have to do?" Tony demanded.

His partner looked up at him from her computer with a raised eyebrow.

"You were hinting something?" She asked dryly. "I could not have guessed."

What? Was that her being sarcastic? Tony narrowed his eyes.

"You were ignoring me?" He said in realisation.

"You were talking too much," she said. "And I had work to do. Still have work to do," she gestured at her computer. "I'm sure you do as well."

Tony ignored that, admittedly correct, fact.

"So you heard me," Tony said, focusing on the important part of the conversation.

"Yes."

"But you ignored me."

"Also, yes."

"Zivaaaaaa."

There was a time and a place for teasing, and this was not it, in his opinion. Especially since it involved something very important.

"What?"

"I want to bake cookies," he demanded.

"And I am not stopping you," she said.

He huffed at her. She wasn't getting this! He was going to have to spell it out, wasn't he?

"I want to bake cookies with you."

That got him a blank stare from her with a lot of blinking. Had he broken her?

"You want to bake cookies with me..." she repeated slowly.

Tony nodded his head vigorously in a very Abby-like manner. That's how serious he was about these cookies.

"Yes."

"Like last year?"

Tony's eyes lit up. "You remember them too!"

"Of course I do. That was fun."

She even remembered them being fun!

"It could be fun again," he tried to persuade her.

She looked at him for what felt like for too long and then sighed.

"Very well, I would not mind baking cookies with you."

"Yes!"

She rolled her eyes affectionately at him.
"We will have to go and buy the ingredients. I do not have all that we will need for cookies in my kitchen."

"We can do that after work," Tony said cheerfully.

He would do any amount of shopping for cookies.

"Have I told you how much I hate Christmas shopping?" Tony asked in distaste as he looked around them.
There were just so many people and their baskets were overflowing and no one seemed to care where their shopping carts were angled. And everyone was snatching and grabbing at things. And the noise. Don't forget the noise. Between the Christmas music blaring out over the speakers and all the people shouting a bickering, he honestly thought that he was going to snap.

Ziva also had a throughly unamused look on her face but that was directed at him and not at the annoying people around them.

"Yet, you are the one who insisted on going shopping," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Because we need cookie ingredients!"

"All of which I have in my cupboards."

"Not enough!" Tony insisted. "Also, didn't you say you didn't have all you needed at home?"

Ziva sighed but pushed the cart forward. Thankfully, Ziva's assassin, ninja, and downright terrifying-ness came in handy. People practically dove out of her way as she strode confidently down the aisles. All he had to do was stay close behind her, and he didn't have to make his way around everyone. It was great! Maybe he should make her come along shopping with him more often. Maybe even to the farmers market he liked to get his bread from. That was always packed.

All of which brought him back to the present day where he was supposed to be getting out all the implements and they needed while Ziva took out all of the ingredients from the shopping bags they returned with. And yes, bags, as in plural. Because this was a serious business that had to be taken seriously.

Serious enough that they were going to make lots of cookies. Lots of them. And different types, too. Sugar cookies. Chocolate chip. Granola ones. Double chocolate. There was even this word recipe he had found that had marshmallows in it...

Yes, they were going to make so much, and Tony couldn't wait.

"Are you drooling already?" Ziva asked in amusement as she watched him rub his hands together in glee.

Hands that self-consciously went to his mouth as he replied with an indignant, "Of course not! DiNozzos don't drool. Unless it's women," he added with a smirk as soon as he confirmed that there was no drool coming from him.

"Come on," she urged while rolling her eyes at him. "Let's get started."