A warm breeze filtered through the darkened windows of the NCIS building. Team Leader Leroy Jethro Gibbs had long since gone home, leaving the remainder of the MCRT stuck in the office doing long overdue paperwork.

In one corner of the bullpen sat a chubby, geeky agent fiddling with his computer. Timothy McGee was a shy one, except to those who knew him well. An essential element to the team, McGee ran everything that involved computers, seeing as his boss was technology illiterate.

Next to him, a lazy, handsome agent reclined in his chair, grinning a charming smile. Tony DiNozzo was the resident clown, though sometimes his womanizing ways tended to interfere with his work. But his heart was in his job, and he really was a 'Very Special Agent.'

And across from him sat the final member of the team, sharpening her knives and cleaning her gun. Ziva David, the newest member of the team, was like a viper—exotic, beautiful, but deadly. Some of the many ninja-like qualities she possessed included being able to kill a man with a normally harmless household object, and take down a mob of armed guards with her bare hands.

Both of which she had done without breaking a sweat of course.

And so, the sun had set, bathing the office in darkness but for the meagre lighting that bounced off the pasty orange walls. McGee threw his hands up in triumph.

"Yes!" he cried. The other two raised their eyebrows at him.

"Finally find a girlfriend, McProbie?" Tony grinned. Ziva held back a smile as McGee grinned back.

"Noooo…" he smirked, "I finished my paperwork, which means I can go home, Tony," McGee said teasingly. Tony slumped in his seat. "See ya later," McGee smiled arrogantly as the Ping! of the elevator took him away. Ziva chuckled quietly.

"What now, Zee-vah?" Tony questioned, drawing out her name in the way that made her heart flutter.

"He got you," she smiled, "For once."

"Yeah yeah yeah, we'll see about that tomorrow," Tony grumbled. She laughed. He loved Ziva's laugh. It was so rare and it made his heart leap.

They worked in silence for a while until DiNozzo sighed loudly. Ziva rolled her eyes.

"What, Tony?" she said.

"I'm bored," he whined. All of a sudden, his face lit up. "I know what we could do," he smirked. Ziva's eyes widened.

"Tony, I am not, doing that, with you," she exclaimed, trying to push away imminent fantasies. He snorted loudly.

"HA! I was talking about playing a game, Ziva. Get your mind out of the gutter," he smiled, attempting to ignore the pictures forming in his head.

"That saying does not make sense anyway. Why would one's head be inside a drain?" Ziva questioned, with her cute little confused look. Wait, cute? Thank God Ziva couldn't read minds or she would shoot him. Though being a ninja and all, he couldn't entirely rule the idea out.

"Don't worry about it," said Tony, not feeling like explaining the idiom. She shrugged, then leant forward on her desk.

"And what would this…game involve?" she asked, stating into his emerald green eyes.

He gulped, her beautiful brown doe eyes looking into his. He too leant across his desk.

"Questions," Tony smirked, "and…" he paused, reaching for something underneath his desk and pulling out a large bottle, "…whiskey," he paused again, reaching into one of the desk drawers and retrieving a bag, "and Skittles." Ziva's eyebrows knitted together.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Basically," he began, "We take turns asking each other questions, and every time you don't wanna answer, you have to take a shot instead. For every three questions you don't answer, you have to take two—one a mixture of whiskey and Skittles," Tony explained. Her eyes lit up with understanding.

"I see. Sure," she shrugged. She had nothing better to do. And she did like Skittles.

The two agents pushed their desks together in the middle of the bullpen to form one large table. A low rumble echoed through the room. Ziva screwed up her face.

"Was that your-"

"Stomach? Yeah. I'm starving. You up for Chinese?" Tony asked, cutting across her. She nodded.

While DiNozzo took his phone and ordered the take-out, Ziva was left to ponder to herself. She was alone, with Tony, in the deserted NCIS building for the entire night. The mere thought gave her butterflies in her stomach.

At that moment, Tony returned around the corner, snapping his phone shut.

"Food'll be here in about twenty minutes. Got it delivered, it's too dangerous to pick it up in this rain anyway," he said.

"What rain?" questioned Ziva.

The room briefly flashed white, followed by a clap of thunder.

"That rain," he smirked. She rolled her eyes at him.

"So are we going to play this game or not?"

He smiled.

"Eager?" he said. "Fine, I'll go first. Your first date, what was it like?" Tony asked.

"I am not sure if I would like to answer that," Ziva replied. Tony raised his eyebrows as he poured a splash of whiskey into the lone shot glass and slid it over to her. She deliberated.

"His name was Amir. We were fifteen. He took me down to the lake by our house for a picnic. He was just about to kiss me when… whenmy father came around the corner in a rage. He dragged me back to the house by my hair, telling me that emotions created weakness. I never saw Amir again," Ziva said softly with a faraway look in her eyes. Tony's knuckles whitened from how tight he was clenching his fists. His teeth gritted.

"Every girl deserves a first date," Tony pushed out with difficulty. "And he ruined yours."

She touched his hand lightly.

"Do not worry," she insisted. "It was a long time ago." Ziva smiled as she tipped her head back and took the shot anyway. This caused Tony to grin.

"Your turn," he said. She mused.

"A childhood memory. Any. Preferably happy," she said. He snorted.

"My childhood wasn't the best either, Ziva. You know that," he said nervously. She leaned forward.

"No, actually Tony. I do not," she replied. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It would be nice to know a little about your past," she pressed.

"Well," he began. "When I was eleven years old, I'd just gotten back from boarding school for the summer holidays. I was upstairs watching a movie, when my dad came home from another big night out with two drunk broads on his arms. I heard him making suggestions to them. Once they heard he had a kid, they didn't want anything to do with him. They wanted to go home. He got angry when they left and slammed the door in his face."

Tony was pacing now.

"Oh man, he was pissed. I heard him coming up the stairs. He threw the door of my room open and his face was furious. As if somehow it was my fault. He was holding his belt in his hand and I tried to run but there was nowhere left to go." Ziva had left her seat in shock. He faced the window as she walked slowly over to him. She could barely hear the ending. "After he finished beating me, he threw me in the basement for the whole night."

Ziva lightly touched the back of his shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Tony," she said softly.

"I don't want your pity."

"But you were so strong lasting through it all."

He turned around and looked down at her, his hands lingering by her waist as if to ask permission. Her agreement came in the form of her wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her into an embrace. A hug, purely for comfort purposes—no romantic strings attached.

"You know, I did ask for a happy memory." Her muffled voice tickled his neck.

"It was," he replied. "The next day he felt so bad that he took me on a fishing trip. It's one of the happiest times I can remember."

"Do all your happy memories come with painful strings attached?" Ziva questioned.

"My father may have been harsh, but he made me the man I am today, I guess," Tony answered with a shrug. And Ziva's mind whispered a thought to her that she would probably never say out loud.

And I would not love you any other way.

A/N: It gets better, trust me. :) And I seriously love the ending of this story. It'd be really awesome if you guys could drop a review on the way out! :D