Tiva Short Stories

Operation Breakfast

Hey guys! This is a collab with the amazing tiva_ddicted01, but WARNING THIS IS PART 2 BE A DECENT MANATEE AND READ PART 1 FIRST XOXOXOXO. Oh and dialogue is a bit further down on this one but keep reading! Cute (and hopefully hilarious) dialogue is there fore you!

I awoke much too early to the sound of an alarm clock. I curse past me for deciding future me wanted to wake up at this ungodly hour, especially after having been up all night studying my english. I roll over and pretend I don't hear it, and then hit around for the off button to stop the pernicious cries assaulting my ears.

"Commence operation breakfast" I think to myself and run over a metal checklist of my 'gear'

Recipe?

Printed.

Ingredients?

Bought.

Pots and pans?

Borrowed. I can't help but feel a bit guilty for not owning any cookware at age 30, but being an assassin doesn't leave much time for baking or tupperware parties. Plus, coffee is a food group and the takeout guy would grow worried if he hadn't heard from me in a day.

"Officer David reporting for service"  I mumble to myself and roll out of bed, grabbing my idiom book off the nightstand and taking it with me, figuring I can study it while the food cooks. Look at you Ziva, winning cooking and learning English at the same time! I smirk.

"Assignment: to cook a real breakfast, to try to be a normal couple on a Sunday morning" I groan. I glance at my recipe book and scoff at the title of my dish "No-mistake pancakes". Watch me I challenge it

Step 1: Crack 3 eggs. I crack my  3 eggs with one hand and one swift stroke into my borrowed bowl, and I consider writing a cookbook of my own: Efficient Cooking for People Who Have Lives. But, after spending the next 5 minutes picking egg shell out of my eggs, I decide I'm just too busy to take on another project right now.

Step 2:  Wisk in dry ingredients: 1 cup of sugar, 2 cups of flour, and 1/8 a teaspoon of baking powder. First of all, I would like to address a letter to the person who wrote these steps, because this is 3 steps. I add my baking powder and sugar, but it appears I forgot to buy flour at the store. I shrug and pour extra baking powder into the mixture.

"You'll just have to make do with what you've got" I inform the batter. I also discover I do not own a whisk, but I walk over to my takeout  utensil drawer and find a pair of chopsticks to mix the dough.

Step 3: Add in 2 tablespoons of oil and 3/4 cup of milk. I preform this step with ease, and mix it together with my chopsticks without any issues. Now for the hard part, actually cooking.

I dollop little dough circles onto a pan and turn on the stove. The recipe doesn't say how long to cook them, so I assume I'll just be able to tell when they are ready. I smile and remember from my studying last night "I'll just have to sit tight"

I say aloud "I am so on the ball. I have squished the ball. The ball is popped." This diving head first into cooking thing is actually working!

I smile and quote "I went cold turkey"

I open my idiom book to the nearest page and mouth as I read "That rings a bell...That rings a bell...That rings a .." My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing, except its not a bell, its some sort of contraption on the ceiling. It screeches and screeches , and after a minute, it begins shooting water at my kitchen. I grab a broom and start hitting them to get them to shut up just as Tony runs into the kitchen, wearing only his pajamas.

"Ziva!" He yells over the cries of the ceiling demons "What the HELL  is going on?" His shirt becomes soaked under the sprinklers.

"NO MISTAKES MY ARSE" I screech at my cookbook.

"WHAT?" Tony exclaims in confusion.

"I tried to cook cakes in the pan and now they won't stop yelling at me!" I screamed and continued to beat the evil sprinklers. Who installs sprinklers on a ceiling? I couldn't help but wonder.

"WHO ARE THEY?" Tony laughed and took away my broom "Hey! My insurance does not cover Isreali damage!"

"The angry ceiling men!" I yelled and put the cursed book over my head without thinking. Tony help the broom up like a warrior's sword and declared (with joy!)

"Death to the idioms!" He pulled me into a wet, wet kiss.

He shuts off the stove and opens a  window. Neither the fire alarm or the sprinklers give up.  He smiles and shouts, " Did you manage to burn coffee? Because it is too early in the morning to be awake without coffee"

"I messed everything up Tony!" I sighed.

"Zi it's all good, I need to shower anyway" He smiled.

"No I need to be able to cook, and now my book is ruined so I can't master English."

"Ziva I don't care if you can cook, I love our delivery guy and he would worry if we stopped calling suddenly" He shrugged as the water continued to pour. "And English is like your 88th language so make like an Italian and 'fugget about it" He teased with a thick accent.

"NO it matters!" I exclaimed, "I have to be able to teach our child how speak and I have to be able to feed it." I yelled and smiled, wondering how long it would take him to catch on.

"Well Ziva you don't have to worry about that, we don't have a OH MY GOD" He yelled in shock, jumping up and hitting his head on the fire alarm. In response to his excitement, the sprinkler broke and dumped a gallon of water onto his head.

"OH MY GOD ZIVA!" He repeated, laughing this time.

GUYSYYSYYSYSYYSYSYYSYSYSYSYYSYSYSYYSYSY DID YOU CATCH THE TWIST? OLIVER TWTIST?