Title: Peppermint and Glue

Rating: T

Disclaimer: It is a dreadful thing to admit, but unfortunately I do not own NCIS. Although right now I wish I was Ziva David (although Cote de Pablo would be better) and heck I want to own Tony=]


A/N: I started this a while ago, in the half term holidays. I'm not sure if it's any good... But I guess you'll be the ones to tell me that.

The title is from the song "Peppermint and Glue" by Sharon Little, just for the fact that I had it playing on repeat while writing this!

Please read and review!

Thanks!


Summer Camp. Summer camp, summer camp, summer camp. Summer could only get better… right?

Tony stared at the email from his father.

To:

From:

Subject: Summer Camp

Anthony,

Your mother and I have decided to send you to summer camp for two months. We do not want you lounging around at home being lazy like last year. The camp is Camp DC, in Washington. You will be in the age group 13-16. You will go. There is a flight scheduled to Washington DC next Monday. You will be accompanied by your uncle, Vittorio, as he is going to DC on business matters. You will arrive home a few days before school restarts. You have been assigned a pen pal so you know someone before you leave. His email is:

Tony stared at the email. His father had sent it to him three days ago. He was to leave for Washington tomorrow. Did he want to go? He wasn't sure. Summer Camp sounded like it was little kids! But, at least it would get him away from his father. His bastard father who got drunk every night and slapped him around for the sake of it. At least he might get a good conversation out of Vittorio.

Tomorrow. Tony looked around at his spotless room. Where was anything anyway?

"Francesca!" he called for his maid, and she arrived at the door.

"Yes, master?"

"I was going to pack myself, but I don't know where anything is. I'm sorry. I know you were trying to make that dress for your sister… Just if you could show me where everything is… then I'll get on with packing."

Tony didn't like ordering the maids arrived. It made him feel stuck up, and too much like his father.

"And what have I said about calling me master? I do not own you; I am not your master. My name is Tony."

"Yes, master." Francesca replied. "I mean yes… Tony."

"Grazia, Francesca." Tony smiled at the girl. She was only about 18, yet she was calling him master…. It wasn't right, in his opinion.

He glanced back at the email. He hadn't got in contact with his pen pal… Maybe he should… Then, at least, he would know one person in the black hole of hell, AKA Summer Camp. He clicked on Compose New Message and began to type.

To:

From:

Hi,

My name is Tony and apparently I'm your pen pal. My dad is sending off to this Summer Camp thing for two months. I've never been to a Summer Camp before, have you? If so, what is it like?

I'm 13 and I'm in 8th Grade. I'm from Long Island, New Jersey.

I love to play football and basketball, but I hate school stuff like math and physics. Chemistry is fun though.

Write back,

Tony.

He pressed the send button. Only his father ever contacted him on his stupid Long Island Banking email. Everyone else used his MSN; he had more pride than that. He wondered what the guy was like. IL… Ireland? He decided to Google it.

"IL – Israel."

Israel? That was… cool. Hello in Israeli was… what? Google was a useful tool.

Results loaded up.

They spoke Hebrew, not Israeli, apparently. And 'Hello' was 'Shalom.' Tony said it out loud.

"Shalom. Shalom, Shalom." Francesca looked at his dubiously. She was fluent in Italian and almost fluent in English but she had no idea what Tony was saying.

"What is it, master? I mean, Tony." Francesca asked, and Tony chuckled.

"Apparently my Summer Camp pen pal is Israeli, so I was trying to find out how to say hello. It is 'Shalom.' Shalom, Shalom, Shalom. Goodbye is… oh. Goodbye is Shalom too. Wouldn't that be confusing?

"Shalom! Shalom. You wouldn't know if someone was saying hello or goodbye. Oh, it means peace too. So you could be saying 'Hello, Hello' or 'Hello, peace' or 'Peace, Goodbye' and you would just be saying 'Shalom, Shalom.' That would make things hard. They could at least say it differently… or something." Francesca smiled as she carried on finding Tony's clothing. He continued to babble on about how Shalom as three words would be confusing and how ever more confusing it would be to have a different alphabet.

"Then again, I guess 'Ciao' is hello and goodbye too…" Tony considered. Francesca nodded.

"That is very true." she agreed.

"Boker tov, eres tov, laila tov. That's cool! Good is 'tov' so that's like… Morning Good, Afternoon Good, Night Good. Ah, Hebrew is so confusing!"

Tony had completely forgotten about letting Francesca go down stairs and finish making the dress for her sister. Suddenly he remembered, as Francesca began the odious task of packing.

"I can do that, Fran." Tony offered. Francesca stopped what she was doing. He had called her… Fran? Mr DiNozzo called her 'you' or 'maid' and only occasionally 'Francesca.'

"Grazia, Tony." Francesca smiled, and departed. Tony glanced at the neatly folded clothes. Oh, boy… Two months sure constituted a whole lot of clothing… And by the looks of things, two very large suitcases.

He realized that if he wanted to finish before he was meant to leave, he better start now.

*

BUZZ.

Ziva twisted in mid kick, and landed lightly on her feet, bending her knees slightly to adsorb her impact on the hard floor of the dojo.

BUZZ.

She picked up her cell phone and held it to her ear.

"Shalom?" she asked, but received no reply. She tried again: "Shalom?"

She took the phone away from her ear and glanced at the screen. She chuckled softly to herself.

1 New Message

She should really make her ringtone different on a phone call, text message and email. Eventually it just got confusing. Like… now.

She opened the message. It was an email… in English. No one ever really emailed her, she mostly received texts from her friends, and her parents generally called her.

To:

From:

Hi,

My name is Tony and apparently I'm your pen pal. My dad is sending off to this Summer Camp thing for two months. I've never been to a Summer Camp before, have you? If so, what is it like?

I'm 13 and I'm in 8th Grade. I'm from Long Island, New Jersey.

I love to play football and basketball, but I hate school stuff like math and physics. Chemistry is fun though.

Write back,

Tony.

She scanned the email. Pen pal? She frowned. Summer Camp?

She called for her father.

"Aba!" she shouted. "Aba!"

"Ken, Ziva?" Her father had been reading the daily newspaper while watching Ziva and Ari practice sparring. Her elder sister Talia sat texting her friends on her cell phone.

"I have an email from a…" She glanced at the email for the right words. "Pen pal. He says is being sent to Summer Camp. Why do I have a pen pal, Aba?"

Eli David smiled at his daughter.

"Ima and I are sending you to Summer Camp in America this year instead of the Mossad Survival Training." He explained but Ziva simply glared at him.

"You might have asked! Anyway, why may I not do Survival Training?" One of the highlights of her summer was to be sent out to spend four weeks in the middle of the Belize jungle, or the Australian outback.

"It is for ages 7-12 only, Ziva." Her father explained patiently. "And you have managed it every single year, with perfect grades at the assessments at the end of Survival in those conditions. There is nothing more they can do for you!

"So, Ima and I thought you could go to America and spend your summer there. Then your English will improve. You will also meet people who are not from Israel. People whose parents are not Mossad." Ziva glared at her father. She would have to spend her summer with some American kids who thought karate was similar to sushi!

"When were you going to tell me?" Ziva asked, angrily. Her father sighed.

"Tonight, Ziva."

"When do I leave?" she asked, and her father bit his lip. He should have told her earlier, but Ziva had an uncanny knack of getting out of things that she didn't want to do.

"Tomorrow." Ziva's eyes flashed in anger. If she had been pissed off at the mention of Summer Camp… now she was really pissed off. She was leaving… tomorrow?!

"Lovely of you to mention it." she snarled, and her father shrugged.

"You're welcome." he replied, with a cheerfully patronising smile. Ziva glared at him once again, before stalking out of the dojo and up the stairs to their house.

The Davids lived in a large house in the suburbs of Tel Aviv. The top floor consisted of Ziva's room, the floor below was inhabited by Talia and Ari, the first floor by Eli and his wife, Ariella, and a sitting room and the ground floor was taken up by a lounge, a dining room (which was rarely used) and the kitchen. Underneath their house there was a full size dojo, where Ziva and Ari had lessons everyday.

Talia was the more girly sister. While Ziva spent most of her time reading or sparring or practising new moves and her fitness, Talia preferred to paint her nails, go out shopping, see movies, go on dates or text her friends. The two sisters' lives were light years apart, but even so they had a close relationship.

Talia was two years older than Ziva, and Ari was a year older than Talia. Ziva's relationship with Ari wouldn't be described as… sibling love. It would be more apt to call it sibling rivalry. They would compete for the highest grades, for the best remarks from their karate instructor, the most fatherly compliments from Eli.

Ziva closed the door to her bedroom and flopped down on her bed. She stared once again at the email. Well, she might as well reply. It couldn't do any more harm than Eli already had by sending her off to the black hole, also known as Summer Camp.

To:

From:

Shalom Tony

My name is Ziva David. I only found out that my father was sending me to Summer Camp a few minutes ago, so I am not in the happiest mood at the current moment in time.

I am 13 also, so that constitutes that I am in 8th grade too, I guess.

I am from Israel, and I speak fluent Hebrew, English, Spanish and Arabic. I apologise if my English is slightly strange, as obviously it is not my first language.

I have also never been to Summer Camp. For the last five summers I took part in the Mossad Survival Training, but it is only for the age range 7-12 and my father wanted me to do something different. So, I understand that Summer Camp is the something different.

I love karate, kick boxing, reading and learning new languages. I am a black belt in karate and tae kwon do.

I look forward to meeting you very much,

Ziva David

She hit the send button and watched as the virtual envelope flew off into cyberspace.

Tomorrow… she had better get packing.

*

Tony collapsed back onto his bed, exhausted. He had squished two months worth of clothes into the suitcases and he was knackered. How could Francesca do this?

PING.

He turned at the sound to see that a little envelope had popped up in the middle of the screen of his laptop. He opened it and read it.

He sounded like a cool guy, but Ziva seemed a strange name for a girl. He opened up his internet and Googled the name.

He was correct.

Ziva sure was a strange name for a guy. It was a girl's name. Today was sure getting confusing. He clicked on the reply button and keyed in an answering email.

To:

From:

Shalom Ziva

This may sound very strange… but here goes:

My father forwarded me your email and said "You have been assigned a pen pal so you know someone before you leave. His email is" so… well are you a guy or a girl? Sorry if I am being really offensive! I'm just so confused!

Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!

Tony

X

He sent the email off to bounce off a few satellites before arriving in the Inbox of an Israeli guy or girl. He still wasn't sure of the gender.

*

Ziva stared at the email she had just received. WHAT?! It did sound strange! Very strange! Exceptionally strange! Of course she was a girl… ZIVA. Did it sound like a boy's name? Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before sending her reply off to Long Island.

Shalom

It did sound very strange. I assure you, I am a girl! Ziva is a girl's name! The male version is Ziv, so I see where you possibly got confused. I do hope this has cleared up any doubt that I am male.

Toda raba,

Ziva


A/N: So, what did you think? Any good? A load of rubbish? Please review!