Rule 39: There Is No Such Thing As Coincidence (Tony DiNozzo Love Story)

Dinner

Friday Afternoon

    "Well, I'm done," I say tossing the file into the little black plastic bin on the corner of my desk.

    "Thanks to you we all are," Ziva says with a smile as she looks up from her file. She glances back down to it and closes it before putting hers away.

    "So, what are your plans tonight?" She asks. I look up at her and take a side glance to Tony's desk. He's sitting there writing and looks up to take a glance toward me then to look at Ziva.

    "I've got a date," I say.

    "With who?"

    I turn and look directly at Tony then look back to Ziva and nod my head in his direction.

    Ziva looks surprised and looks over at Tony. He nods and smiles.

    "Since when?" Timothy asks and I glance toward him with a smile.

    "After our lunch on Sunday," I say.

    "What are your plans?" Ziva asks.

    "Dinner and dessert. Then a screening of the oh, so classic 1968, Night of the Living Dead," Tony says.

    "I've seen it more than twenty times," I say looking over at him.

    "Well, it doesn't hurt to see it again," Tony says. I look over at Ziva as Tony begins to quote the movie.

    "They're coming to get you, Barbara!"

    "You see what I have to deal with tonight?" I joke in Hebrew and Ziva smiles.

    "You dated him before and agreed to dinner. So, it is on you now." She replies back.

    "Hey, no Hebrew," Tony yells and we stare at him before bursting out into laughter.

    "Did Tony finally give you the ring?" Ziva asks in Russian. "I had seen him looking at it once before in his desk. When you two left, I saw that he grabbed something from his desk. I only assumed that he had finally given it to you."

    I nod. "He did."

    She stares at me.

    "I haven't said yes or anything, I have it at home. He is giving me time to get used to being back and just take my time," I say in Russian. She stares at me before nodding slowly.

    I glance over to Tony and he's staring at me, I smile softly in return.

    "Ready to go?" He smiles.

    "Yup," I say.

    "Be safe and be home by three," Gibbs says coming out of nowhere. I spin around to look at him.

    "Sure thing, grandpa," I say with a smile.

    Gibbs smiles and chuckles before taking a seat. I grab my backpack and shut my computer off.

    "Later McGee, Ziva," I call and walk toward the elevator, I can hear Tony throw a paper ball at Tim and jog to catch up to me.

    "Hey," I say as I open the door a couple of hours later. Tony is standing there in yet another suit with yellow orange ranunculus flowers.

    "Wow," he says. I smile shyly and look at him.

    "Why don't you come in, I'm almost ready," I say standing aside and letting him walk in. Closing the door, I begin to walk back across towards the restroom. Tony stands by the door and I can hear Gibbs' voice come up the stairs.

    "Tony."

    "Gibbs," Tony says. Gibbs begins talking and his voice fades a bit as he walks toward the kitchen, I can hear Tony talking with him. Adding my earrings and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I walk out toward the kitchen.

    "Are you done grilling him like I'm sixteen and going to the prom?" I ask when I hear Gibbs tell Tony that he better remember who his boss is.

    "We're just talking," Gibbs says with a smile.

    "Gibbs, I think I can handle it if anything should happen. Come on Tony." I smile, Tony looks up at me with wide eyes. He walks out of the kitchen and I look back at Gibbs with a look, he just laughs and waves me goodbye.

    "I think he was trying to be the dad he never got to be, which is funny because he did it the last time we started dating," I say to Tony as we're talking about Gibbs's talk before dinner. Tony laughs.

    "He really did."

    I smile and shake my head.

    "Anyway, let's not talk about Gibbs or work. I'm tired of it already." I smile. Tony smiles as well and takes a sip of wine.

    "How's your spaghetti and meatballs?"

    "Delicious," I reply with a smile.

    "You could get anything and the fact that I'm Italian is just a degradation to my ancestry," he jokes.

    I laugh. "That might be true, but I highly doubt it. Plus, I haven't had this kind of spaghetti in years. So give me a break." I smile. Tony laughs and shakes his head as he takes a bite of his own food.