Title: Objectivity
Rating: T
Summary: Ziva thinks about Tony while on the run during the episode, "Shalom."
A/N: "Shalom" is one of my favorite episodes, and I just had to write a little story about it. I'm also working on an AU sequel where T&Z spend some quality time together after the danger has passed. ;)
Ziva paced back and forth across the dimly lit basement, waiting for Abby to call her back with Gibbs' phone number in Mexico. She felt like a caged tigress. It was difficult to have patience when she was so used to being decisive and taking action. But at the moment, all she could do was wait.
She'd easily managed to escape the Embassy undetected. It had felt good to hit that Security Officer who'd been assigned to guard her. She was angry and frightened, but it was hard to tell exactly where the threat was coming from. That was why it had been a relief to have a target to focus on. She didn't feel sorry for him at all. He was the sort who enjoyed dominating people a little too much. Brute strength with little finesse. He was good for security purposes but really nothing more than a thug.
Her head was still reeling from everything that had happened in the last few hours. She never thought she'd end up a fugitive from Mossad, NCIS and the FBI, all at the same time.
But now that she was on the run, she was glad that she always dressed for comfort and ease of movement. Cargo pants, soft cotton shirts, and sensible shoes. She rarely wore skirts or dresses, unless she was undercover and had to. It just wasn't practical. Beyond that, it was difficult to be taken seriously, as a woman in her position as a Mossad officer, if she dressed in a feminine manner. She'd had to face many men who were chauvinists, not just in Israel, but in Europe, and of course in the U.S.
Ziva hated being objectified. It was simultaneously a blessing and a curse to be as beautiful and curvaceous as she was. She could use her good looks and feminine wiles to her advantage, to entice men to do her bidding or distract them, but she didn't like it when colleagues or superiors dismissed her as just another pretty face.
She had learned to expect sexist attitudes and cutting remarks from condescending men, but she'd been caught completely off-guard when Michael Bashan had confronted her about Tony. Bashan's insinuations had made her furious. She didn't want anyone to think that she'd been sleeping around to get ahead, and she felt deeply offended by his implication that she was sleeping with Tony because he was her new team leader.
It wasn't true. She'd sleep with Tony no matter what position he held, if she weren't so afraid of getting hurt. But she knew it would be a bad idea because she was in love with him… and he wasn't in love with her. He was commitment-phobic to the extreme, and a consummate player.
On top of all that, he really was her team leader now, though she didn't think of him as such. She still thought of him as her partner, so she hadn't stopped to consider just how bad it looked for him to be coming over to her house every week.
She wanted to scream in frustration. It should have occurred to her before. Of course Bashan had jumped to the conclusion that she and Tony were sleeping together. Anyone who'd seen those surveillance photos of them together would think that. It was humiliating, knowing that the private moments she'd shared with Tony had all been captured on film and then passed around between her fellow Mossad officers… and to her father.
Belatedly, she suddenly realized that if Mossad knew about Tony coming over, others might too. If her enemies knew how much she cared about him, he could be used against her. He could be taken hostage, tortured…
She blocked that horrific thought out of her mind. Focus, she told herself firmly. It was not going to help to dwell on Tony right now.
But she couldn't help it. She was scared, for herself, but also for him.
She didn't want to involve him in this, but she wished she could call him. He always knew what to say to make her smile, and she longed to hear his familiar voice murmuring words of comfort and reassurance in her ear.
She knew she couldn't contact him, though. It would endanger him, and she couldn't let him sacrifice his career and his life for her. She loved him too much. And she knew he cared too much about her to stand by and do nothing. He would never believe that she was a terrorist, despite all the proof to the contrary. He believed in her and would do whatever he had to in order to help her. Tony had a blind spot when it came to people he cared about, and he would take too many risks if she asked him for help.
She had to protect him. She'd lost too many people that she loved, and she couldn't have his blood on her hands too. If anything happened to him, the guilt would kill her.
Although she and Tony were not physically intimate with each other, they shared a great deal of emotional intimacy. Sometimes she wondered if she was only kidding herself. She knew that emotional involvement could be far more dangerous than having a physical relationship.
She had no objectivity where Tony was concerned, and she doubted he could be objective about her either.
It was better to call Gibbs, who had far less to lose and could be more objective.
Ziva took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate on coming up with a plan. She had no illusions about what was going on. Whoever they were, they wanted her out of the way. Preferably dead.
Eschel couldn't possibly be working alone, but she had no idea who he was working for, or why.
She had a feeling they would attempt another bombing to get rid of her, and she would need someone with combat experience and military training to help her.
She needed Gibbs.
She didn't trust her father to save her this time, or ever…
But maybe Gibbs could.
The End