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She closed the door silently behind her, her attention instantly focused on the sounds and voices coming from the kitchen.
Every inch of counter space was covered in clutter, and what she assumed was flour. Tony's back was turned to her, but she could just make out the edge of the laptop screen.
"I could kiss you," he said to whoever was on screen. "Ziva's gonna kill me if she finds out."
Having sneaked right up behind him, she noticed her favorite stoneware dish broken in several pieces on the counter. She glanced at the screen from behind his back, and saw Abby and one of the nuns she went bowling with. She held her index finger to her lips, but Tony had seen them react to something behind him.
Just as Ziva asked, "Find out what?", Tony turned around, startled, and in a reflex clenched the bag of flour he had been holding causing it to burst, covering them both, but mostly Ziva, with flour.
He placed what was left of the bag among the clutter on the counter. "I wasn't expecting you home for at least another hour."
"Obviously." She wiped the front of her sweater.
"Are you okay, you're looking a bit pale," he said with a sheepish grin, as he tried to wipe some flour from her face unsuccessfully. He glanced at his flour-covered hands, huffed, causing some of the flour on Ziva's face to flutter into the air. Looking like he had an epiphany, he blew on her face, trying to get rid of the flour.
"Stop it." She pushed his face to the side, and realized she really should stop sneaking up on him.
He reluctantly pulled back, and said with a half grin, "That's not what you said last night."
She gently slapped him on the chest and motioned towards the laptop where Abby and Sister Mary were looking at them wide-eyed.
"So," Abby started and pointed off screen, "we're going to go bowling." She looked directly at Tony. "I'll ask the nuns to pray for you."
The call ended and Tony turned back towards Ziva, who was looking at him bemusedly. Trying to delay the inevitable, he rummaged around the counter, leaving flour finger prints everywhere, before finding a towel.
He carefully wiped at Ziva's face. "I can explain."
Ziva sighed dramatically. "You are having an affair with Sister Mary."
Tony shook his head in confusion. "What, no!" He watched her clamp her lips together as her shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He glanced at the broken dish next to him. "Unless that would mean I'm in less trouble,” he said, with a slow smile.
Ziva chuckled and placed her hands on his cheeks, wiping some flour from his chin with her thumbs. "It is just a dish, Tony."
He wrapped his arms around her waist, getting flour on the back of her shirt as well. "Yeah, but it was your favorite."
Ziva glanced at the broken pieces. "I never told you that." She looked at him questioningly.
"You always got this small smile and faraway look when you picked it up." He kissed her forehead. "I promise I'll do everything I can to fix it."
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
He squeezed her a bit tighter. "I'll get you a new one, even if I have to scour the internet day and night."
"No, Tony." She kissed him on the lips softly. "It was the memory attached to the dish that made me smile."
"Oh," he said and glanced at the broken pieces jogging his memory. "Didn't I get you that?"
She smiled brightly. "Yes, it was a housewarming gift when I got my apartment after...you saved me."
He hugged her tightly, placing a kiss on her temple.
Ziva leaned into the embrace for a moment, then waved a hand at the cluttered countertop. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"
He looked around the kitchen. "I was trying to bake you a pumpkin pie."
"I didn't realize you could bake."
"I can't, that's where Abby and Sister Mary came in."
Ziva chuckled. "Hoping for some divine intervention?"
"It worked."
Ziva frowned.
"You came home."