A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. I hit a rough patch with Apocalypse, so this is to both tide y'all over, and to help me vent my frustration at this season's poor plot choices. So sure, thing may be OOC, but it's what I see happening, so blame TPTB. Again, this is not a pro-Barrett piece. Not quite a basher, but she'd definitely painted in a good light here. Heck, she wasn't in a good light for the episode either.
Slight spoilers for the episode, but largely AU.
Ziva powered through the Navy Yard, anger and indignation burning hot deep in her gut. Anguish that was all too familiar threatened to overcome everything else, but she refused to let it. She tried to tell herself that Ray wasn't worth it, but the fact that his revelation cut so deep blew that out of the water.
But instead she opted to focus on the information. Ray had given her—a peace offering more than any desire to improve interagency cooperation. She tried to focus on what it meant: that God's-gift-to-NCIS EJ Barrett was wrong in her steadfast hunch the man they had in interrogation was their serial killer.
Oddly enough, it gave her a great deal of satisfaction.
"Ziva!"
Speak of the devil. A flash of red hair pushed through the bustling crowd towards, and though Ziva didn't slow to receive the team leader, the woman's tangent met hers with unerring precision.
"Ziva, I'm glad I caught you—"
"It's Special Agent David," Ziva responded tightly, fighting the irritation immediately sparked by the woman's arrival. "And I'm too busy for small chat." She brushed by the woman to enter the elevator, but immediately regretted her choice of transportation when the stranger slid in next to her, the car instantly becoming claustrophobic as the doors closed before Ziva could slip back out.
The elevator lurched into motion, and Barrett shot her a sidelong glance.
"Going to Gibbs then?" the smaller woman asked conversationally, noticing the button to the bullpen was lit. Ziva arched a brow at her, and she shrugged. "You looked pretty determined—I kinda figured it wasn't about getting back to a mountain of paperwork."
Ziva eyed her for a moment, but remained silent, even as she turned her attention back to the steely gray doors, stubbornly shut.
"Do you have new information regarding the case?"
Ziva paused before carefully responding, "Perhaps."
"What is it?" came the expected query, Barrett turning on her like a bloodhound to a scent. Ziva remained silent. "Special Agent David, you do know that every detail of this case goes through me, right? As lead investigator, you are obligated to share any new information that you acquire during the course of the investigation—"
"I'm not obligated to you in any way," Ziva cut in sharply.
"That's not what the Director says—hey!" Barrett's retort morphed into an indignant exclamation when the elevator opened and Ziva exited, heedless of the woman's words. Barrett stormed after her, her temper flaring.
"I am the lead agent on this case and you will render the appropriate respect—" Ziva ignored her, if she even heard at all. Temper roared into rage, then spilled over Barrett's tenuous self-control. Her hand shot out, grabbing Ziva's elbow with a vicious yank. "I'm talking to you—"
Her angry words were cut short by a hand twisting hers, and arm across her chest that slammed her against the nearest wall, pinning her there in a dizzying instant. Breathless, Barrett looked up into flashing dark eyes.
"I do not answer to you, Agent Barrett," she delivered, rage simmering beneath a tone of calm. "The Director on your speed dial may have ordered Gibbs to report to you, but I do not. I report to Special Agent Gibbs, and if he deems whatever information I may or may not have to be important to the case, then he will relay the information to you."
She paused then, and Barrett thought the woman may be done. But instead sharp eyes raked over her form, slicing through whatever image she saw. "As for respect," she continued scathingly, "I render it only when it is earned. And as of this moment, you have done nothing but act like a spoiled, over-indulged child."
Brown eyes glared into hers for a long, long moment, and Barrett had to force herself to hold the woman's gaze. Finally, Ziva released her with a final little push. Her point made, she turned to leave, dismissing Barrett both as an agent and a threat.
Again, her hackles raised, and pride urged her to speak before her common sense could kick in.
"The Director will have your badge," Barrett called after her. "Assault of a superior officer is taken seriously—"
Ziva rounded on her once more, slipping into Barrett's personal space, forcing the redhead to step back instinctively, until the wall behind halted her abruptly.
"It would take an act of god to rescind my Special agent status," Ziva said, her voice low. "It's in my contract—a little safety clause should the Director fall victim to any… undue influence."
Barrett's cheeks heated in a flush at the barely veiled insinuation. Ziva smirked, knowing she'd gotten under the agent's skin. She leaned even closer, never once dropping her gaze.
"And if you ever touch me again, I will show you what assault truly is."
And with that, Agent David left her a second time, this time allowed to catch Gibbs' attention unhindered. As he followed his agent to the other side of the staircase, he shot a glance in Barrett's direction, hard eyes judging her as a potential threat. Evidently, he didn't think of her as much of a threat, because he moved out of sight without engaging her any further.
Looking around, Barrett realized he wasn't the only one.
All across the room curious eyes stared at her. Some were smug, almost triumphant, in some battle unknown to her. Others held nothing but contempt. A greater number simply stared warily, as though waiting for her to snap. Looking to the MCRT bullpen, and saw McGee's gaze flick away to turn back to his computer with furious intensity. Even Tony, whose features had always been so open to her, readily shooting her a reassuring smile—his eyes were uncharacteristically shuttered, and he turned away from her after meeting her gaze for a long moment.
It was then she fully understood that she had made a grievous mistake.