Suddenly a hand grabbed him, pulling him into a secluded backstage area. A hand clasped over his mouth, silencing his protests.
"Do not make a sound," the voice whispered. His eyes widened when he recognized it.
"Ziva?" he asked, his voice muffled by her hand.
"What did I just say?" she hissed.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, pulling her hand away.
"I could ask you the same," she said as she put her hands on her hips.
"Well since I'm here on official NCIS business, I think I have a right to know why a Mossad operative just happens to be in the area."
She stared him down, his intensity matching hers. He broke his gaze away early, taking in her appearance for the first time. Her hair was curled and set into a side ponytail, cascading over her shoulder and covering up one of two very thin straps holding up her silky black dress. He didn't even need to see it to know it was backless. His eyes came back to hers, patiently waiting for him for finish his assessment.
"It is not a coincidence I am here."
"Don't believe in those anyway."
"Turning into Gibbs, are you?"
"No, just taking some of his better rules to heart."
"Since when?"
"Since always," he bit out. She apprised him carefully, eyes softening as she saw the guilt he still felt for Jenny even many months later. She pushed past it, coming back to her point.
"As I was saying, it is not a coincidence I am here. I am here to be help you with this case. Be your partner."
"We're not partners anymore, Ziva. You chose not to come home."
"Israel is my home, Tony. My country. That does not mean that we are not partners."
"How did you even know I was here?"
"I overheard my father speaking with, I am assuming, Director Vance, and I knew I could not let you handle this alone."
"And you didn't even think to…I don't know, tell me that you were here?"
"I decided to tell you when it became necessary."
"Necessary was a day or two ago, Ziva. When we could have made a plan together. Not when you decided I'd wandered into the danger zone."
"I did not arrive here until last night, Tony. I did not have time to tell you."
"But you had time to figure out exactly where I would be and manage to get a step ahead of me?"
"It is what I do." He clenched his jaw in frustration. She refused to give him anything. Refused to even think about budging. He shook his head minutely, trying to tamp down his irritation and focus on the task at hand.
"So where's the rest of the Mossad calvary?" he said, stepping away as much as the space would allow, a few feet at most.
She shook her head. "You misunderstand. My father does not know I am here. Nor does Mossad. We were only informed in case there were dire circumstances. We are not supposed to get involved."
His eyes narrowed at the change in circumstances. She was alone. She'd defied indirect orders to come and ensure his safety. "Going against Daddy David's orders, are we?" He said with a smug smile. "You know, you could have just called me, told me you missed me."
"Do not make this into something it is not, Tony."
"I'm just saying, there are other ways to get my attention."
"This is not a ploy to see you." She snapped, frustrated. "This is me trying to make sure you do not get yourself killed."
"I didn't think you cared."
"Then you are an idiot." The tension was thick between them, words left unsaid dangling in the air all around them, waiting to be strung together in confessions and apologies.
"Fine, what's the play?" Tony sighed, conceding to her control.
"Keep your voice down." she hissed.
"It can't get much lower."
She narrowed her eyes at him "If you had not noticed, I am undercover."
"I figured, what with the dress and all."
She ignored his comment, with a tilt of her head and a glare. "I am the cabaret singer. It will give me a view of the entire room, and I will be able to assess the situation without arousing suspicion."
"Trying to arouse other things in that dress?"
"It is part of the act, Tony."
"Well then I'm looking forward to this act of yours." He put on his charm smile, knowing that he was walking a thin line between frustration and flattery. If the blush on her cheeks was any indication, flattery had won. He smiled wider.
She shook him off, coming back to business. "Give me a sitrep?"
"You, with all your super ninja powers haven't already tracked down the file?" Tony asked, surprised.
"All I knew coming in was the location, and that you were involved."
He smiled smugly, and she glared right back.
"Well, we seem to have a mole problem at NCIS. Nothing on the internal leak yet, but we traced some of the information exchanged to Petty Officer Steve Vargo, who was found murdered. We suspect Petty Officer Brian Roberts, the man we've been surveilling for the past 2 weeks, and the guy we're looking to pick up tonight. Director sent me out here to bring Roberts in, Middle East team as backup."
"If the Middle East field team is here, why did the Director send you?"
"Well apparently he's designating the most boring and the most dangerous assignments to those of us who blew our protection details," he said, bitterness in his tone.
"There was nothing you could have done," she said gently.
"Yeah, except my job."
"Tony…"
She touched his arm, trying her best to console the guilt she knew he harbored beneath the surface. He shook his head solemnly. They couldn't have this conversation again. Still, she searched his face, allowing herself to feel tenderness that she had long since left behind.
He heard a thump from just outside their hiding place and Ziva took a sharp breath in. They could hear footsteps growing near, and Ziva could see Tony looking for a way out. She leaned up to him as the steps stopped outside the door.
"Trust me," she whispered before pulling him to her. She took his head in her hands and kissed him effortlessly, her body meeting his as he wound his hands around her back, pulling her ever closer. She smiled into the kiss. It had been years since they'd embraced this way, undercover or not. Unexpected warmth spread through her as his tongue met hers, and the desire she'd spent years suppressing hit her full force.
The door opened with a bang, shocking them apart. The man behind the door scowled at the pair, his posture conveying nothing but annoyance. They'd separated quickly, but she came back to him, laying her head against his chest and snuggling into him. She smiled shyly as though they had been caught. He thought for a second he even saw her blush.
"This is your boyfriend?" the man asked in accented English.
"Yes, he is."
"He stays out in the bar."
"Of course," she nodded.
"You are on in five minutes," he barked.
She nodded once again, her head still resting against Tony's chest. The man left as quickly as he came, closing the door with a bang. Ziva stepped away from Tony immediately, pushing away from his chest and running her fingers through her hair.
"Go. Do not sneak around back here. You will blow our covers."
"Yeah, that was a pretty sophisticated cover you came up with back there," Tony scoffed. She could hear the eye roll in his tone.
"Shut up." she snapped. "Go. Sit. I will meet you after my first set." She guided him out from behind the stage into the bar, but he stopped short.
"Hey, I thought you said you came alone."
"I did."
"Well the guy at the bar is giving me a Mossad vibe." He motioned with his chin towards a severe looking man sitting with his back to the bar.
Ziva huffed, frustrated. "Do not approach him. I will deal with him later."
"So he is Mossad."
"He is." she confirmed with a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Alright. I'll see you after."
"Yes, you will."
Tony made his way to the bar, taking the place he'd sat before he left, trying to get the best vantage point in the room. He settled against the bar, resisting the urge to order himself a scotch. A quick scan of the bar didn't turn up any suspects, and he turned his attention to the Mossad operative at his left. The man had a permanent scowl on his face, and Tony surmised that he had a less than sunny disposition. He turned to look at Tony, and his scowl only deepened. Ziva was right. The do not approach idea was solid.
Turning his attention back to the stage, he was pleasantly surprised to see Ziva. A smile crept across his face as he watched her from afar. Seeing her in that dress was almost more than he could handle. There was too much skin too be touched and so little time.
The spotlight came on with a pop, and after a small whoop from the crowd, Ziva started to sing. Her voice was low and smooth. It fit the jazzy feel of the song perfectly. She worked her way through three songs, some in English, some in French. Tony was blown away by her talent. She ruled the stage, flirting with the audience the whole time. She was met with a few catcalls, and though the Ziva he knew would probably want to hit the men with whatever object was closest, this Ziva blew them a kiss.
Halfway through her set, their suspect arrived. Tony could tell that he was trying to look inconspicuous, but to no avail. He carried a briefcase, which immediately put Tony on high alert. Whether it be drugs, money, files, even a bomb, he knew that briefcase would be bad news. Roberts sat at one of the tables adjacent to the stage, to Tony's left. Ziva smiled at him as he came in, her way of welcoming him to her show. He didn't smile back.
Ziva finished her set with a slow number, smoothly crooning her way through to the very last note. With a bow and a round of applause, she left the stage, sneaking Tony a wink as she turned away.
Immediately after Ziva went backstage, he saw the Mossad agent rise from his seat after finishing the last swig of his drink, and head down the same path that he'd taken earlier, only to be grabbed by Ziva. He had no doubt that this man would meet a similar fate. He kept an eye on the suspect, who was trying and failing to look inconspicuous. Tony could only hope that he was keeping a lower profile than Roberts. Not even ten minutes later, he glanced over at the darkened hallway, only to see the agent emerge. He reeked of barely repressed anger, his jaw clenched shut and his face furrowed in a menacing scowl. He sat back in his place at the bar, quickly ordering another drink. He caught Tony's eye, and shot him a glare that could freeze hell.
Ziva emerged only seconds later, still tense from the apparent argument she'd had with her companion. As she walked, he could see her swaying the tension away, transforming herself back into the minx that had ruled the stage. Her eyes met his and she gave him an almost carnal smile, mischief dancing in her eyes. He smiled back at her, understanding washing over him as she added extra sway to her hips. She wanted to play, and he was more than willing to give her what she wanted. He could feel the challenge in her form, willing him to step up.
She came to rest in the v of his legs, leaning against him, arms casually draped over his shoulders. Her fingers intwined instinctually behind his head, and his joined at small of her back, as though they'd done it a million times before.
But they were never like this. Their touches were fleeting, their romance clandestine and short lived. There was no time to linger, to caress, to allow themselves to feel as fully as they'd wanted to. This, noses brushing and breath mingling and being close with no other activities in mind, it was intimacy in a way they'd never gotten around to knowing.
"Hey," he said as she settled in his grip.
"Hey." she replied with a smile.
"I didn't know you could sing like that." He said softly.
"There are many things you do not know about me," she said tone deep and husky. "Does that mean you enjoyed the show?"
"I did." He said, thoroughly enjoying their proximity. He looked past her to the man at the bar, who was watching them with a scowl. "What's the deal with Mr. Mossad over there? He gave me a glare that could rival Gibbs."
"His name is Michael. He is unhappy that I went against my father's orders. He came to take me back to Israel."
"And he just expected you to go with him?" Tony asked, incredulously.
"He said that we have another assignment."
"We as in…you and him?"
"Yes, he is also my partner. Though not as you are," she rested her forehead against his, playing the perfect couple.
"Is that all he is?" He asked, stroking her back gently.
"That is for me to know."
"I'll take that as a no."
"Please, just take it for what it is."
"Well if it is what it is…he wouldn't want to watch me kiss you, would he?"
"No, he would not."
"Too bad," he whispered as he captured her lips with his. The kiss was sweet and soft, but even then she could feel his desire for her, and his restraint. They had a job to do, and though the mission was at the forefront of their minds, the slow burn of relationships past was always crackling underneath the surface. She pulled away only slightly, so that their noses still brushed together, their lips only a breath apart. She could feel his smile, and she was certain he could feel hers, too. It was a mixture of comforting and terrifying how easily the slipped into perfectly playing the part of enamored lovers.
Tony glanced back over at Michael, whose displeasure had only deepened. He gripped Ziva tighter, pulling her even closer to him, a move that clearly screamed 'mine'. Michael downed the rest of his drink and stalked out of the bar, leaving nothing but a lingering sense of rage behind him.
"Well that solves one problem." he said smugly, clearly happy to see Michael go.
"At least for now." she said. She paused momentarily, leaning in to rest their cheeks together, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "For the record, I am not a prize to be won, and I will not have you treating me as one."
"I got it."
"Good." She said, lips still firmly in place. "Now, do you have eyes on the target?"
"Yeah. At my 10. Came in halfway through your set."
"With the briefcase?" she asked, nibbling on his ear.
"Yeah," he gasped at the sensation.
"Good. I will watch him during my next set."
"Ooh, another one?"
"Yes, and I think you will quite like what I have in store for you."
She moved suddenly, kissing him quickly on the lips before leaving him wanting in his seat. She disappeared backstage once again, emerging on stage only moments later.
Her entrance was met with a small round of applause, the men most likely more interested in the backless dress than anything else. The spotlight came on with a pop once again, bathing her in light. Back to the crowd, she began her song in low, sultry tones. Her performance felt different than the one before, there was something more playful in her tone. She left the stage, walking through the crowd as she sang. She drew the men in the crowd in, gently caressing their arms, and their jaws. She put a bit of extra sway in her hips, each movement slow and smooth. She made her way through the tables, making her way back to Tony, who was watching her almost in a trance. She turned her back to him, braced herself on one of his thighs, and dipped down between his legs. The temptation to touch her was overwhelming, and by the look on her face, she could tell.
As she made her way back to the stage, Roberts got up from his table, his contact nowhere to be seen. With a quick glance around, he pushed in his chair and walked out of the bar.
Tony moved to follow Roberts out of the club, but stopped short when his gut clenched uncomfortably. The briefcase. He'd left it under his table. His eyes instantly met Ziva's and he knew she was on the same page. He ran from his place at the bar, tackling Ziva to the ground as the briefcase exploded. He could feel the heat of the flames against his back as he tried to cover every inch of Ziva, who was already trying to curl up to protect herself against the force of the blast. They hit the ground with a resounding thud, the weight of his body falling atop hers despite his best efforts not to crush her. He couldn't feel her moving underneath him and silently prayed to any god that would listen that he got to her in time. That was all he could recall before he fell into blackness.