Author's Note: I have been working on this AU for what seems like forever after thinking about whether Rule 12 would have applied if Tony and Ziva were already dating when they started working together. It was originally a one-shot, but I decided to expand it into chapters because it was getting long-winded and shortening how much I write at one time will help with motivation. For the sake of things making sense and Ziva not being like 17, we're going to pretend that Tony started at NCIS a bit later than in canon.
Big thanks to the NCIS Guidebook for the seasons 1 & 2 summaries so I don't actually have to watch those episodes ever again. Title of the piece is one of my favorite The Cure songs.
Chapter 1.
Yesterday I got so scared, I shivered like a child.
Yesterday away from you, it froze me deep inside.
Come back, come back,
Don't walk away.
Come back, come back,
Come back today.
Come back, come back,
Why can't you see?
Come back, come back,
Come back today.
Tony sighs as he shuts off his computer and stands for the first time in what feels like hours. He stretches his arms over his head and his back pops in three different places. "Done," he declares with tired triumph.
His partner, Price, glances over. "Yeah, good for you. Traitor," he mumbles.
Tony grins at him. "Now now, partner, don't be like that. Think of it more as you'll have an in with a federal agency."
Price rolls his eyes. "Yeah, great. Like NC-whatever is going to be a lot of help considering I'd never heard of them before."
Tony holsters his gun and pats his pockets to feel for his keys and wallet. "Okay, Officer Grumpy, I'll leave you to your bitterness. See ya Monday." He waves at the red headed man, who grunts at him in response.
Price clearly isn't taking Tony's leaving well. They've been partners in the homicide unit of the Baltimore PD for two years, and next week was Tony's last. Then he moves to DC and starts at NCIS. He's looking forward to it but knows his partner generally doesn't like the feds. In Price's mind, they get all the good cases and better paychecks while the PDs do all the grunt work and take all the heat.
And maybe that's all true, but now Tony gets to benefit from it. And hey, he's an opportunist. Special Agent Gibbs had offered him a job. He had nothing tying him to Baltimore since Wendy left. He isn't particularly happy as a homicide detective. And yeah, the pay is better.
As he walks down the street toward his apartment, his thoughts turn to Wendy. She didn't just leave him - she left him at the alter. He can still feel the embarrassment as the guests looked at him with sympathy. Before he can spiral into self-pity, a short scream pierces the quiet of the side street. He whips his head, trying to figure out where it came from. Then he hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a barrage of shouted words that make no sense to him.
The noise comes from a half-lit alley on the next block, across the street. He sprints towards it, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the only car on the street, the driver honking at him. As he runs, he reaches for his gun in his shoulder holster and he slows as he enters the alley. "Hey! Baltimore PD!" he calls.
He can just make out the silhouettes of two people engaged in combat. In the dim light, he sees the glint of a knife blade being wielded by the bigger of the two. The other shadow is smaller, with a ponytail. The smaller person lands a kick to the other's gut. Before Tony can jump in, the larger shadow glances up - Tony gets a quick look at facial hair and a bulbous nose - and runs off.
The smaller person, who Tony can now tell is a young woman, leans forward, breathing raggedly. She is dressed in running clothes and he sees a glint of gold around her neck. He holsters his gun and approaches. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks.
The woman replies, "I am fine," without looking up. She straightens after a moment and he sees a line of blood on her neck.
"No, you're not. You're bleeding," he says, pointing to her neck. She brings her hand up to the wound, then looks at the blood smeared on her hand.
"It is just a scratch. I am fine," she repeats. He notices that her voice is accented. Upon seeing the look on his face, she adds, "I have had worse."
"Maybe so, but we should at least get you to the precinct to get your statement and a description of the guy so we can put out a notice."
They stare at each other in a silent battle of wills. "What if this guy attacks some other person who can't defend themselves like you?" he asks pointedly.
She huffs out a sigh and relents. "Fine."
As they walk out of the alley and back down the sidewalk towards the precinct, Tony introduces himself. She gives her name only as Ziva. He sneaks glances at her under the streetlights that line their path. Her dark hair, gathered up into a ponytail, is curly, and she has a prominent widow's peak. Under the yellow lights, her skin glows the color of warmed honey and he finds himself wondering if her skin tastes as good. Mentally, he shakes his head at himself. He is still a police detective and she is a victim of a crime.
At the precinct, he finds a uniformed officer to take her statement and sit her down with the sketch artist. After she is escorted to a conference room, he goes back to his desk in the cramped office. Price is still there. "What, you've come back to gloat some more?" he asks.
"Uh, no," Tony responds with a snort. "I stumbled across an assault in progress and I escorted the victim here."
"Are you going to leave me with the paperwork?" he grumbles.
Tony rolls his eyes. "No, seeing as nobody died and we're in homicide, I delegated to a uniformed officer."
At this, Price visibly relaxes. "Woman victim?" At Tony's nod, he asks, "Hot?" Tony gives him a look and Price smirks. "Really hot."
He doesn't really have anything to do at his desk but shuffles some of the papers on his desk, flipping through random files, trying to hide the fact that he is waiting for the mystery victim, Ziva, to finish with her statement and session with the sketch artist. He got a look at the perp, so he might be able to help, he reasons.
After about an hour, he hears someone clear their throat and looks up. Ziva stands there, looking a bit unsure of herself. He hadn't heard her walk up. "Hopefully it wasn't too painful," he says. She gives him a blank look and he elaborates. "You know, the whole statement process. And the sketch artist, well, he can be kind of annoying with the details." He realizes he is rambling and shuts his mouth.
She gives him a tight smile. "No, it was fine. I am used to such processes. I wanted to thank you for your help," she says, still rather stiffly.
Price has perked up and he asks, "Where are you from?"
She glances over at him. "Israel," she says. "I must go."
As she is about to turn around, Tony touches her arm to stop her. She looks down at his hand on her arm and he drops it, then hands her a business card. "If you need anything, you can contact me at this number. For another week, anyhow. After that, you can call and ask for Detective Price here."
"Where are you going?" she asks, putting his card in her pocket.
Grimes speaks up. "The traitor is going to work for the feds."
"Don't mind him," Tony says quickly. "I took a job at NCIS. It stands for Naval-"
"Criminal Investigative Services, yes," she interrupts. "I am familiar with them."
He blinks. Why in the world would she be familiar with NCIS? Is she in the military? Of course not - she's from Israel.
He thinks back to the way she fought the perp and how unruffled she seemed about the whole thing, which he had chalked up to shock, but now he's not sure. Even now, she seems poised, like she wasn't just assaulted at knifepoint. But before he can ask how she's familiar with NCIS, she quickly says, "Anyways, thank you," and walks off.
Price snorts. "Definitely hot, but kind of intense."
"Yeah," Tony replies absently, staring after her. Intense but intriguing, and he can only hope that he will run into her again.