A/N: Hey there. I was so delighted with the response I got from the first chapter, so here is an update. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, you have no idea how awesome it is for me to see people are reading let alone enjoying my little story. I know this story is very slow moving -this chapter is basically about Tony throwing up [nothing graphic, dont worry :P, so I hope you don't get bored. Please review, any advice you can give me is welcomed with open arms (I've scrapped my plans for any Tabby romance, but I havent decided if anything else is on the cards) :) Also, I realize that NCIS is set in the USA, but I'm an Aussie, so I've used the metric system in this chapter. Hope you don't mind...
Enjoy, thanks for reading!
Super-em
Chapter Two
"ZIVA! This is America! I don't know what its like in Israel, but we have road rules here. Such as speed limits." Tony held on for dear life as the sedan drifted around on a corner, ending up in the wrong lane. An oncoming car screeched to a halt as Ziva weaved in and out of the traffic.
"Are you trying to make me throw up? Because you've done it before. You don't need to prove yourself again."
Ziva glanced over at Tony. He was looking decidedly green, a layer of perspiration covering his forehead.
"So this nausea is a symptom of you allergies, yes?" She asked, dodging a pedestrian.
"No, this nausea is a symptom of your driving, Ziva." Tony said, trying to concentrate on keeping his lunch down. It was getting harder and harder to do. Although, he thought, he'd skipped lunch. And breakfast for that matter. Shaking his head, Tony focused on the road. Ziva could make anyone sick, breakfast or no breakfast. Finally the car skidded to a halt.
"We are here." Ziva declared, getting out of the car with a satisfied smile.
Tony finally got up, holding onto the car roof for support. He was feeling a bit dizzy. No wonder really, after that drive.
Ziva led the way, knocking on the door of the house. No answer.
"Federal agents!" She yelled, knocking louder. Frustrated, she bent over, swiftly picking the lock.
"Ziva, we need a warrant for that," Tony called, realizing what she was doing. But it was too late. The door swung open. Ziva gave him a smug smile.
"The door is open now. Shall we?"
"Fine." Tony followed her in as they cleared the house. There was nobody there. Judging by the thick layer of dust that coated absolutely everything in the house, it had been that way for a long time. He started coughing again, bending over to catch his breath. Must be the dust, he thought, walking outside to get some fresh air.
"Nothing here. I'll call Gibbs." Tony called back, hitting the speed dial on his phone as Ziva examined the pile of mail at the door.
"Hey boss. We got nothing. Yes bos-" Tony flipped the phone shut as Gibbs hung up on him. Gibbs knew nothing about phone etiquette.
"Gibbs says if there's nothing, we might as well come back to the Navy yard. And I'm driving." Tony snatched the keys out of Ziva's hand as they left.
OOOOO
Tony drives so slowly, Ziva thought, sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Tony glanced at the speedometer. 110km. He was speeding. Bored, Ziva turned on the radio, flipping through the stations until she found something that wasn't news, talkback radio or country music.
Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat as another wave of nausea hit him. Should've stayed in bed today.
Ziva closed her eyes, her fingers tapping to the beat of the store as she felt herself dozing off. Suddenly the car swerved to the right, braking sharply to a stop. Ziva opened her eyes quickly. Tony was gone. She looked outside. The car door had been flung open and Tony was leaned over a bush on the side of the road, retching violently. Ziva jumped out, coming to stand beside him as he continued to throw up. Finally it finished. Tony braced himself with his hand on a tree as he tried to catch his breath.
"Do not tell me this is just your allergies." Ziva said, frowning with concern.
Tony glanced over at her, his face pale and sweaty. He opened his mouth to say something, but the nausea returned, stronger than ever and he turned back, retching into the bush. Ziva jogged back to the car, returning with a bottle of water.
"Here." She handed it to Tony, who rinsed out his mouth.
"Are you done?" She asked, as politely as possible.
Tony gave her a smile, which was more of a grimace. "Sure hope so. I didn't realise it was possible to throw up that much."
Ziva helped him back to the car, sitting him in the passenger seat and loosening his tie.
"Drive slowly," He begged, closing his eyes.
Ziva obliged.
"Ziva? Slowly. I don't know how much Gibbs would appreciate me spoling the nice interior of this car."
"What? 80 is slow!"
Tony chuckled, but stopped as the green colour returned to his face.
"Ziva-?"
She'd already pulled the car over, and he opened the door, throwing up onto the grass. Leaning back on the headrest, he breathed deeply.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" He muttered, removing his tie altogether. Ziva leant over, wiping the sweat of his forehead with a tissue.
"Its okay Tony. We're almost there. And for you, I will drive extra-slowly."
Exhaling, Tony shut the door of the car and Ziva took off again, roaring down the highway. 60km is very slow, she thought.
OOOOO
Finally, after one more emergency stop, the familiar gates of the Navy Yard came into view. Ziva parked the car, helping Tony out. They stood in the lift, on the way up to the third floor.
"Ziva," Tony said, his voice a little weaker than usual. "Don't tell Gibbs about this." He leaned back, resting his head on the cool metal wall. The headache had magnified, no doubt due to the intense vomiting.
Ziva frowned, surveying her partner. Slumped against the wall, his face was pale and clammy, his skin covered in cold sweat. His tie was missing and his top button was undone, his clothes rumpled and his hair stood up in random clumps. It didn't matter whether or not she told Gibbs. Anybody with eyes could see that he was not well.
The doors opened and she led the way out, followed somewhat slowly by Tony, who sat down immediately. Gibbs was at his desk, reading a file.
"Took you long enough." He didn't look up from the file.
Ziva opened her mouth to say something, but caught the warning look from Tony.
"Tony are you alright? You don't look so good," McGee said from his desk.
"Never better, McGeek." Tony said, sitting up in his chair. He scrunched his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to suppress the tickle in his throat. He burst into a bout of coughing that burned his lungs,
Gibbs finally looked up. He saw DiNozzo, sweating profusely, unusually pale, hunched over gasping for breath.
"Get up DiNozzo." He ordered curtly.
"We're going to see Ducky."
A/N: just did some quick conversions (hopefully right) if you're wondering:
110km/hr 68 mph
80km/hr 50 mph
60km/hr 37mph