AN: So apparently the way to wake up my brain is to take 2 Excedrine Tension Headache and 2 Benadryl and NOT go to sleep. So, I've been talking about doing this since the Season 10 finale aired, now I'm gonna go ahead and do it.

MN: Benadryl makes me wake up and if she's not asleep she can't ignore me muahahahahaha!

Disclaimers: If I owned NCIS, this would have actually BEEN part of the finale.

Spoilers: Mild through current, Major 10X24. Does not deal with Gibbs' actions, only those of his team. I'm gonna assume they know nothing of what he's doing.

"Is Agent Gibbs so valuable that you would allow this to happen?"

Parsons' words echoed through his head as he sat in his study and Director Leon Vance snorted out a laugh. Allow. Like he'd allowed any of it to happen. No. He had been fully prepared to argue with Gibbs' team as they placed their badges on his desk but as soon as he opened his mouth, he had been put in his place.

David had stated in no uncertain terms that their decision was final and the set of DiNozzo's jaw had caused him to shut his own. Even McGee seemed more confident in this decision than in any other Vance had seen the young agent make in the previous five and a half years.

But he had not allowed this to happen. The sudden loss of his lead major case response team had left him scrambling to fill their shoes, and it wasn't going well. The first team he assigned what would have been Gibbs' next case to hadn't lasted a day before the team leader was in his office demanding that he never have to see Abby Sciuto in person again.

In the man's defense, Sciuto was being uncharacteristically hostile toward, well, everyone. With the exception of Dr. Mallard and his assistant, anyone who dared speak to the forensic specialist was being treated with hostility. She'd even screeched at him for daring to venture into her lab.

He was sure that she would be alright long term, however. His concerns lay with the three agents who had committed the ultimate act of professional sacrifice out of love and loyalty toward their team leader and surrogate father. He wasn't entirely sure they could handle this.

By the hour Ziva was becoming less sure that she could handle this. It had been three weeks and she was no closer to finding a job than when she had handed in her badge. Her savings were dwindling fast and Parsons seemed to have effectively 'cock blocked' (as Tony had put it) them from getting a job in law enforcement anywhere in the metro area. She was starting to expand her search to the point where a job offer now would likely mean relocation.

Her scowl intensified at that thought. She was quite fond of the life she'd managed to carve out for herself in Virginia. She had a routine and places she liked to go and friends. Okay, she had a few casual friends. But she also had a few really good ones. Friends so good that even though they were no longer working together, they were still talking daily, meeting for drinks, and helping one another job hunt. Except for Gibbs.

That brought another scowl to her face. Their fearless leader and family patriarch had disappeared within hours of the team tendering their resignations. He'd called Abby to tell her he was leaving on special assignment and that had been it. None of them had seen or heard from him since. He hadn't been home either. They were all starting to get worried.

A knock at her door jarred her from her thoughts and she glanced at the clock. It was 1600 hours. He was early. She shoved from the couch in an ungraceful manner that was completely unfitting to the businesslike blouse and skirt she was wearing and crossed her living room to the door. Out of habit she picked her gun up from the sideboard while she peered through the peephole.

After confirming she was correct about the identity of her guest, she put her weapon back on the table and opened the door. His eyebrow hitched skyward as he took in her attire and she could tell he was biting back a laugh as he spoke.

"Care to explain?"

She grabbed his wrist pulling him into her apartment then slammed the door and clicked the locks back into place. "I had an interview for a job as an office assistant through a temp company. I had to look the part, yes?"

He was still raking his eyes up and down her body, even as he tossed his jacket onto a chair. "Hey, I'd hire you. How'd it go?"

She plopped herself back down on the couch heavily and sighed. "Not well. Apparently, being a trained investigator and assassin has absolutely no use in today's corporate world."

He sat on her coffee table facing her and his grin widened. "Well then, it's a good thing I'm here."

"Why are you here, Tony? You usually do not show up until closer to dinner time."

"Because, Zee-vah, I have good news. A friend of a friend of mine owns this private security company and he is currently in need of a couple more bodies. We have interviews on Monday morning." He looked her up and down again pointedly. "And while I'm sure he'd love to see you in that, he specifically mentioned jeans being appropriate attire."

She felt her eyes widen in surprise, but didn't try to suppress it. "Really? And it's local?"

"Office is about fifteen minutes from my place, but he does jobs in a couple hundred mile radius. So, yes. Local." He stood up and extended his hand to her. "Now, as much as I love your legs in that skirt, go change. Abby is insisting on taking us out to celebrate and I have a feeling you'd be more comfortable doing shots in pants."

As she allowed him to pull her to her feet, Ziva double checked the clock then looked back to him. "It is a little early for shots, is it not?"

Tony shrugged back at her. "As a former frat boy, I could argue that it is never too early for shots, but Abby wants to meet for dinner first. And since there will be alcohol involved tonight, I figured it's safer if we walk to the pub. Another good argument for you to change."

She took a step toward her bedroom then paused and looked back, taking in his attire. He was wearing jeans and a short sleeved dark green t-shirt. It was obvious that the dress code for the evening was casual. "I will be back in five minutes. Do not touch anything."

AN: Okay, so once again my "little" idea took on a life all its own and this is going to be a multichappy fic. Damn my inability to write oneshots!