"Come on, Ziva, it can’t be that bad!" Tony chuckled from his position on the countertop.
His grumpy wife stomped into the kitchen, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.
"Well…it uhm…very pink…and black…"
"It’s horrendous," she interjected, angrily scowling at the layers of fabric around her.
Tony took this as his cue to hop off the counter and alih toward her.
"Hey, anda only have to wear it for a few hours. And then anda can change into the emas one for the reception," Tony smirked.
Ziva rolled her eyes. “Anthony DiNozzo, anda know full well that as soon as I put on the emas one, you’re only going to want to take it off again.”
Tony’s eyes grew dark, and his arms twined themselves around her waist as he pulled her flush against him. “I can’t help it,” he started, his voice low, “if my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what she wears.”
A little smile appeared on Ziva’s face then, the first since putting the awful dress on. “Thank you. I still hate this dress though. If it wasn’t Abby and I wasn’t the maid of honor, I would refuse to wear it.”
"See, aren’t anda glad we eloped?" he grinned, and pressed a sweet Ciuman to her lips.
"Very," she responded softly, and looped her arms around his neck.
"I still remember how anda looked that night," he whispered, a fond look in his eyes. "I remember wondering how I had ever gotten so lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it, love. I was yours a long time ago," she replied, and he smiled warmly.
They were quiet for a few moments before either spoke again.
"I Cinta you, Ziva. Even with that dress on," he remarked playfully, and she smacked his arm.
"Just wait until anda see what Abby and McGee have picked out for their best man to wear," she smirked, and left Tony standing in the kitchen, a slightly worried look on his face.
His grumpy wife stomped into the kitchen, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.
"Well…it uhm…very pink…and black…"
"It’s horrendous," she interjected, angrily scowling at the layers of fabric around her.
Tony took this as his cue to hop off the counter and alih toward her.
"Hey, anda only have to wear it for a few hours. And then anda can change into the emas one for the reception," Tony smirked.
Ziva rolled her eyes. “Anthony DiNozzo, anda know full well that as soon as I put on the emas one, you’re only going to want to take it off again.”
Tony’s eyes grew dark, and his arms twined themselves around her waist as he pulled her flush against him. “I can’t help it,” he started, his voice low, “if my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what she wears.”
A little smile appeared on Ziva’s face then, the first since putting the awful dress on. “Thank you. I still hate this dress though. If it wasn’t Abby and I wasn’t the maid of honor, I would refuse to wear it.”
"See, aren’t anda glad we eloped?" he grinned, and pressed a sweet Ciuman to her lips.
"Very," she responded softly, and looped her arms around his neck.
"I still remember how anda looked that night," he whispered, a fond look in his eyes. "I remember wondering how I had ever gotten so lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it, love. I was yours a long time ago," she replied, and he smiled warmly.
They were quiet for a few moments before either spoke again.
"I Cinta you, Ziva. Even with that dress on," he remarked playfully, and she smacked his arm.
"Just wait until anda see what Abby and McGee have picked out for their best man to wear," she smirked, and left Tony standing in the kitchen, a slightly worried look on his face.