A/N- This is what I think should happen but totally wont, which sucks. I own nothing by the way.
It is a moment so perfectly staged that Gibbs can't help but wonder if all the heavenly powers banded together with one declaration in mind,
'Fuck you, you bastard'
He is caught in the basement of his home, determinedly sanding the skeleton of his new boat and ignoring the intruders in the corner discussing politics, when he hears his front door open and a familiar voice call out,
"Gibbs?"
In all honesty he had no idea she had planned to come around tonight. Then again the number of visitors that actually contacted Gibbs before dropping by his basement could be counted on the hands of a trout. So he looked up towards the open door and actually dreaded the moment she reached the stairs.
But apparently the heavens were out to get their money's worth because the next second she called out again,
"Father, are you home?"
Ever so slightly he winced as the two intruders started and stared at him, stunned by this incongruity, trying to understand where the mistake had been made,
"I finished that book you leant me...the one on Stillwater's history...does Jackson know that his land used to be owned by a famous brothel keeper?"
The sound of her heels as she moves with ease across his hardwood floor punctuates her sentences as she continues her mindless prattling, he can hear her as she tosses her bag onto the couch, hangs up her coat and leisurely makes her way to the basement,
"I thought I would cook dinner tonight papa" she announces just before she rounds the corner, "Seeing as you made it last wee-"
Ziva David chokes on her words as she swings through the door, onto the staircase and discovers the presence of two others in the basement.
"Directors" she blurts without thinking, "What are you doing here?"
It wasn't a rare occurrence to be entering Gibbs house only to find political elite leaving it, the Secretary of the Navy, Ministers of Defence, Senators- in fact she had met her local candidate when she had been bringing some homemade potpourri by, a lovely woman who she now met at the shooting range once a week.
But standing on the top step, looking over the railing at the Director of NCIS Leon Vance and Director of Mossad Eli David- Ziva wondered what stroke of bad luck had led all three to visit the same man on the same night in the same hour.
Leon Vance seems to be the only person in the basement capable of speech at that moment and jumps on it before the situation deteriorates further- he would bet his car that the other three are all packing heat and not one of them is known for having a good temper.
"Director David is in town for the NCIS security conference" he reiterates, hoping like hell Ziva will pretend that this is news to her, "And I thought we would pay a social call to Agent Gibbs"
"I do have a rip roaring social life" Gibbs comments drily, picking up a sharp chisel.
It's at this point that Vance decides it's time to bail, because anyone who thinks Ziva is the crazy member of the Gibbs team has clearly never seen the man in question with a sharp object in hand.
Thus far Eli David has not uttered a word, a fact for which Vance promises to thank God for later. However when the two men climb the stairs, Ziva pressing herself to the wall to make room for them both, he stops and turns to her,
"If you want to talk" he whispers quietly, "We'll talk; I'm not going to push you"
Ziva straightens her shoulders and glares at the man, "I have nothing to say to you"
He blinks at the venom in his voice but returns with a quick parry, "In that case, I hope you enjoy dinner with your papa"
The hurt in his tone is evident to anyone who cares to look but they might just have escaped Gibbs home without further incident if not for the tell tale sound of the kitchen door banging open,
"Dammit Ziva, if you're gonna keep playing happy families at Gibbs place you have to remember not to lock the front door"
Agent DiNozzo's cheery tone somehow resembled a harbinger of doom.
