A/N: Happy birthday Alexa! *rummages around in fic bag* This idea originally came up in a conversation with mewofford years ago (and I do mean years) but I never got round to it.
Fight Club
Ziva David could not remember the last time she had been so mad.
There was the time Tony had tripped her over on purpose and her Berry Mango Madness had gone all over her new top. Then there was the suspect who had suggested she would look good in pink frilly dresses and with blonde hair – upon release, he had suffered an unfortunate accident in a dark alley. And there was the time the printer had chewed up her nice newly-completed report that she had been ordered to hand in before she went home, and had ended up with a knife in it.
However, all these paled in comparison to this evil act she had only just been informed of. By Abby, of all people. Abby, who would not harm a fly, but had just signed someone's death warrant. Abby, who had arranged for her favorite people to spend the previous night at a club.
Abby, who had just admitted what had happened on said night out, while Ziva had been stuck with an irate Gibbs on a stakeout.
The Israeli was going to kill someone. At least one someone. Another was in serious danger and should probably start running, but she had no intention of warning him. Abby had most likely called him the moment she had stormed out of the lab, visions of blood and dismemberment dancing in front of her eyes.
If she had calmed down for a moment, she would have struck Jenny off her mental 'deserves to be in pain' list. In fact, Jenny could hardly be blamed for what had occurred. Her only crime was to be unfortunate enough to catch a stomach virus that was going round. With Jenny ill, her sister had agreed to act as Director for a few days, while Gibbs made sure she did not destroy the agency. But with Jenny ill, Abby had invited Lily out in her place and the redhead had agreed.
Ziva had not minded missing out. Abby had promised to make it up to her, but it did not matter. And so she had watched McGee, Tony, Abby and Lily leave the previous night to enjoy themselves while she put up with a cranky Gibbs.
Gibbs was normally in a bad mood. But with his lover ill (which Ziva could not admit to knowing; Jenny had sworn her to secrecy) and unable to stay by her side, he had become aggravated than usual.
The elevator reached its destination and Ziva stormed off it, heading straight to Jenny's office. How many ways to kill a person… Something painful. Something incredibly painful. Something so she could never walk again.
She stalked past Cynthia, who, simply by glancing up briefly, knew better than to stop her. She flung open the door to Jenny's office, slammed it shut behind her and glared at the redhead sitting opposite the desk.
Lily rose and walked over to greet her, not enough of a coward to hide behind the desk.
"I thought only LJ forgot Jenny's door was a door."
Ziva did not care for stalling tactics.
"Did you or did you not kiss Tony DiNozzo on the lips last night?"
Lily seemed to consider this for a moment. "How badly are you going to react if I tell you tongue was involved?"
Ziva lunged for her.
Lily Shepard limped out of her sister's office, Ziva in tow.
They had left the place in a considerable mess. Jenny's desk was no longer standing, the conference table had several deep gouges in it, new chairs would be required, there was a knife embedded in a photograph of Jasper Shepard, papers were scattered everywhere, a new carpet would be a good idea…
Oh well. Jenny could deal with it. It was her fault for catching that bug; none of this would have happened otherwise. Lily would have either been in some exotic foreign country with half the locals trying to kill her, or stuck doing paperwork for the CIA with half her fellow agents trying to kill her. She preferred the option that involved the most sunshine.
She had not been surprised Ziva had taken it so badly. Nevertheless, she had hoped everyone would have kept their mouths shut. Abby was top of her suspect list: Tony valued his life too much and McGee knew that to mention it would lead to Ziva torturing him for all the pertinent information.
She cradled her arm and continued to limp. Ziva was good. So good, in fact, that they had probably done Jenny out of her supposedly-secret stash of bandages and band aids. Lily liked to think they were only borrowing them; Jenny could have them all back later. She might not want them back, especially as Lily suspected the cut across her back was still bleeding profusely, but the option was there.
She wasn't going to be able to move properly for weeks. She was a mass of cuts and bruises, her right arm had been dislocated (with so much experience, Lily had simply popped it back in) and her left knee was agony. She guessed that problem was a tendon. There was going to be an ice bath tonight, and perhaps a massage if she could persuade someone to do it without seeing her injuries and calling 911.
They arrived at Ziva's desk, ignoring the curious looks from the team. Ziva dragged herself into her chair. "I have Icyhot Liquid Gelsomewhere," she promised, smiling slightly.
Lily smiled back. "Is your ankle twisted or sprained?"
"Sprained," Ziva answered. "It is nothing; I once walked ten miles on a broken ankle."
Lily nodded, recalling a similar incident in her own past. "There's a martial arts class on Thursday evenings at my local gym. It's quite informative. Want to come along?"
"Of course." Ziva handed over the gel. "Keep it – I have another one in here. There is a good class at my gym as well. You would be welcome to join me."
The redhead smiled. "As long as I'm in the country." The standard disclaimer. She limped out, ignoring the confused expressions on the faces of the team, Gibbs especially. He would be bothering Ziva for the details now. And once Tony found out, he would want the details for a completely different reason.
At the elevator, Lily couldn't resist turning round for one more parting shot.
"Told him it would make you jealous."