Chapter Text
Zero
Tony DiNozzo has never been a very patient man. Kicking back, relaxing, not doing anything for a change -- it's never really been his thing. He's doing fine for an hour or so, but anything longer than that and he starts to severely piss off the people around him.
A lot of people could -- and would -- vouch for that. He always works best when his mind is occupied. When he has a mystery to unravel or facts to dig out. Whenever he doesn't have a case to sink his teeth into, he gladly switches his attention to his co-workers instead and snoops around in their lives, unbidden, unwanted.
McGee, of course, doesn't provide much in the sense of braintertainment lately, and sometimes Tony wonders how a guy Abby used to date could have turned into such an uninteresting old man over night. Abby, in turn, is much too open for her own good and thus, no real challenge when it comes to secret fact-finding missions. Ziva or Gibbs, though, are always more than rewarding subjects when there are private notes to browse through or phone calls to listen in on.
It's almost like a reflex, something he can't turn off. He needs this, needs figuring things out like a fish needs water. If he can't unravel a mystery, a motive or intentions, he gets bored. And a bored DiNozzo is halfway on his way to dangerous. (This is another thing many people would vouch for in a heartbeat.)
So, on days like this one, with all fresh cases closed and the cold ones already adorned with rude side notes, when there is nothing left to do except watch Ziva answer an email or hear McGee snicker (not because of a human being, but because he has just cracked an algorithm he's been working on for two days), Tony often resorts to desperate measures to keep his brain busy.
He stops the spitballing after Ziva threatens to choke him in very vivid phrasing. (Okay, maybe not directly after the threat. More like when she's already gotten up and settled her cute little behind against the filing cabinet behind him. And plays with a letter opener.) He does about three prank phone calls until Vance suddenly stands in front of his desk and glares at him with a fiery passion (not of the good kind). And the fascination of drawing lewd cartoons lasts for about five minutes because Ziva helpfully points out that he is very likely to throw out his back in that position.
It doesn't take long until he feels all itchy and restless, and so he forces himself to close his eyes and play the old 'What If' game with himself. What if Sophia Loren were still a hot, twenty-something doll of a girl and desperately wants to go on a date with you, for instance. (That one never gets old.) What if you win the lottery and crack the twenty-three million jackpot. What if the world went down and--
Ooh. Now that's a good one.
What if the world went down? Would it go quietly, like, just keeling over one day from pollution? Or would it go out with a bang, with civilization blown all over the place? With humanity extinct, except for a few survivors who struggled valiantly to make it work and repopulate the mothership?
Hm. Scary, but intriguing. So what would happen, for instance, if--
"Tony."
He isn't happy with having his train of thought interrupted once it gets going. With a grimace he opens his eyes and sees Gibbs towering over him with a glare that easily rivals Vance's earlier one.
For a moment Tony wonders if he has blabbed something tell-tale in his daydream. Gibbs doesn't let anything show, though, he just keeps glaring and repeats his name.
Funny thing is, he does it with Ziva's voice.
Tony moans softly and fights the urge to just curl up some more and ignore the insistent voice. Eventually, though, he forces his eyes open with an effort and stares at Ziva's face. Her real face this time, not the dream-memory of her. Her real face with the scab on her temple and her skin in that pale sepia color, not the tasty caramel it used to have in regular light. Her face, with her eyes like liquid amber, glowing from the inside. Literally, glowing. Not just a figure of speech.
Right. World going down. Check.