Work Text:
She bundles up in her sweater as the winter breeze comes through the front door of her building, questioning why she lives in America again if she has to deal with the dead of a Western winter. Her large laundry basket held tight in her grip as she heads towards the dreaded laundry room. The building's laundry room. Too public for her taste, but there weren't any apartments available in a build that had them in each suite; she was only a week too late or else she would have gotten the last single bedroom.
Ziva grumbles disheartened at the memory, if it wasn't for her father having her go on that family vacation against her will, she would have been in the country much sooner to submit the application.
Oh well.
Sorting through her delicates and outerwear, she fills the two farthest washing machines from the door. She heard that there are a couple of people in the building who have been switching out clothing to get a free wash. But that wasn't happening to her, she was taking precautions.
Afterfinally inserting the coins for the first round of washing, she sits down in the chair under the window and pulls out her latest novel. And with the rattle of the washing machine, she starts to read.
Not even five minutes passes before her phone starts to ring. Smiling at the screen, she places her book down beside her and answers the phone. "Shalom Tali." Getting on her feet, Ziva leaves the loud room and to the lobby.
With a smile, she hangs up the phone to her baby sister. The girl, now in her final year of high school, talked her ears off about her first week. And Ziva couldn't be happier. With their parents separated, and her older siblings no longer in the house, something to take her sister's mind off the loneliness. Tali had even mentioned her teachers are preparing her to get a scholarship for singing by the end of the school year. With her range, she doubts a university won't take her.
Strolling back into the laundry room, Ziva is too caught up in her musings to notice a wet pile of clothing sitting on the center table. All it took was a double take when she noticed that on the table was a very wet black tank top and a pair of cargo pants sitting on top of the pile of laundry. It can't be. She thinks, slowly reaching out for the pants. She takes them in her hands, the extra weight takes a milli-second to get used to, but once she holds them out, she knows it is hers.
Her eyes narrow, her head shooting over to the shaking machine in the corner. Dropping the pants, she marches to the washer and hastily opens the lid; the rattling stops instantly. Just as she suspects, she finds a different set of clothing in the machine, and when she pulls out a grey sweater, the letters OSU pop out at her in red.
She knew what she had to do.
She smirks as she posts the sign on the laundry room door.
'To:
The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash yours…
YEAH, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE
Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow.
Any problems? Come see me in 301.'
So far no one has entered the laundry room as she dried her clothing. She suspects the person will stay out of sight until the room is clear. Which didn't bother her a bit. When her clothes were finally dried and folded, she takes her basket up to the third floor, preparing herself for the confrontation her father has prepared her for her entire life.
Only thirty minutes have passed since she put her laundry away and she hears the unforgettable sound of knocking on her door. Marking the place in her book, she stands to answer the door. She opens the door in one swift motion to find a handsome man before her, his striking green eyes meeting hers.
He opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off.
"Who do you think you are? You think you can just dance right in here and remove my laundry from the washer just so you can get a free load? What type of goose are you? I should report you to the landlord and have you removed from the building completely! Wait until I tell all the residents of the property. You won't be trusted again! Khatikhatt menuval khaser khutt shiderah, titenaheg kemo gavar!"
The man gives her a smirk, a twinkle in her eye before he purrs. "If I didn't know better, I'd like you just called me a name." Her eyes harden at him. "And I think you mean 'waltz right in here' and 'what type of loon' are you, Ms.?"
Ziva straightens her back, rolls her neck and gives the man a short laugh. "Ha! As if you think I'll fall for your charm."
"I think you might." He smirks again, looking her up and down. She doesn't say anything for several seconds before he wears her down. "The name is Ziva, Ziva David. And you?" She looks up at him with her large brown eyes.
"The name is DiNozzo, Tony DiNozzo. And how would you like to settle this the old fashioned way?" He brings his fingers to his lips, playing with them, watching her eyes as she watches him.
"You mean a sparring match?" DiNozzo chuckles, his eyes creasing as he smiles.
"No, no." He leans against the door. "How about a date? Let's say seven?"
Ziva's jaw drops. "You can't be serious?" She sees him peek behind her to where she has his laundry on her balcony.
"Oh I'm serious, madam." She rolls her eyes, thinking it over. It would be a good change, she's been in the country for almost a couple months now, and she hasn't run into anyone she's wanted to have a date with. This DiNozzo guy is cute enough for a first date, but she doubts with his attitude he'd even get a second date. But what's a free dinner and a drink? Besides, by the time they get back, she can return his clothes and they'll be frozen solid by then.
"Fine, you can pick me up at seven, no later."
"I'll be waiting." He winks and strolls away down the hall. Blinking, Ziva closes the door before leaning against it. What did she just agree to?
And he does.
Right at 7:00 she hears a knock at her door. Truthfully, she isn't expecting it, nor was she expecting to open the door to find Tony dressed up in a penguin suit, or have flowers in his hand.
None of the guys she has dated in her seven years of actively dating and having real boyfriends, has ever bought her flowers and dressed up for a date. But then again, she's rarely had a real date that she could relax. He must be up to something.
"Wow," he says, looking her over as she takes the flowers. "Ms. David, you look fetching." She blushes slightly, looking away from his gaze. Was that lust? She asks herself.
She pushes her thoughts aside, grabbing her purse and locks the door behind her. She wasn't going to let one of his goons come steal his clothing back.
He takes her to a fancy restaurant, only of the type that her mother had told her of when she and her father were still together. When he had spoiled her before things got rough for Mossad and the David family. He pays for everything, and only buys the table one bottle of wine. She agrees that she isn't going to get drunk, she isn't going to let this man take advantage of her.
It is nearly ten when he walks her back to her apartment, his hand resting on her lower back. He doesn't offer her a kiss, nor does she lean for one. But she can't keep her hands off of his arm.
"Thank you for dinner, Tony." She says, rolling his name over her tongue. "Maybe we can do it again some time."
He gives her a smirk, hunger in his eyes. "Let's."
Ziva opens the door to let herself in. She's about to close the door on him when he puts his foot in the door.
"I think you're forgetting something Ms. David."
"Hmm?"
"My clothes?"
Her eyes widen before she speaks. "Oh!" She opens the door wide. "I completely forgot! Just a second!" She runs to the balcony, opening the door to reach for the basket. The cold wind chills her as she grabs it. Finally in her hand, she closes the door behind her and marches to the front door where Tony is waiting. "I'm sorry it's frozen, but here you go."
"So you weren't lying." He mutters, taking in his solid sweater.
"Are you still up for the second date?" Ziva asks, worrying her lip between her teeth.
He looks up at her, and soft smile on his face. "Oh, most definitely."