Summer in New York

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Once again, my "thank you" goes out to Zivacentric for her beta and great remarks. All remaining mistakes are mine.

I forgot to mention it but this story is written for "The House that Gibbs Built" and the "I Need a Break" challenges on the NFA Forums.

Chapter 2

Excited or not, Ziva all but fell into bed once they reached the apartment. However, her eyes popped open not so long after that. She had come to realize that she was starving. Slowly she climbed out of bed and padded to Ari's room to check on him. He was still out like a log so she continued her way to the kitchen hoping that she would find some food there. Fortunately the fridge was packed so she was able to make some breakfast… or lunch.

After eating she changed into a pair of cargo pants and a tank top and, after looking into Ari's room just to make sure that he was still asleep, Ziva left the apartment. For a little while she just leaned against the railing in front of the apartment and enjoyed the sun that shone into the yard. From her position she could see that the strange man from the ground floor hadn't moved an inch since that morning.

It was silent throughout the building as it was little after noon and most of the tenants were away doing their business. She slowly walked down the stairs and when she turned into the gateway, she bumped into someone. It seemed that many people in the building didn't really bother to watch in front of them, Ziva noted somewhat annoyed. However, unlike the CIA man from earlier, this man stopped and turned to Ziva with great bafflement and embarrassment. Ziva couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face as she took in the young man's appearance.

He was a young scrawny man with dark hair that seemed a little overgrown and sticking out in places, with a pair of round-framed glasses that stood somewhat slanted on his nose.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am." He stammered to Ziva.

"Do not worry about it." She smiled at him kindly. "I did not pay much attention, either." The young man nodded, still embarrassed then continued on his way, focusing all his attention on a little piece of paper in his hand.

"Are you all right?" Ziva called after the young man concerned when she noticed that he was rather preoccupied.

"Excuse me?" The boy turned back snapped out of his thoughts, clearly stunned.

"I am just asking because you look troubled."

"Troubled?" The man thought about it a little while. "Well, I may be a little troubled, yes."

"Can I help you?" Ziva offered.

"Why would you do that?"

"I was just offering..." Ziva shrugged.

"It's very kind of you." The man's face lit up at the prospect of sharing his thoughts. "As a matter of fact I could use some help." Here Ziva opened her mouth just to tell him that she'd be happy to help but obviously the man didn't need any further encouragement because, taking a few steps back towards Ziva, he continued without even taking a breath. "See, there is this girl I've just met at one of my seminars. She is amazing, I mean she knows all the works of Descartes and Hume and she has such an amazing theory of existence… and the way she delivers her arguments… oh my God… you should hear her. She is just perfect and…" Here Ziva lifted a finger just to stop the man's babbling.

"You need some advise how to approach this girl?"

"No." He looked at Ziva as if she had suddenly grown a second head. "Actually, I've got her number."

"Then what is the problem?"

"I don't know where to put it."

"Her number?"

"Yes. You see this is a very sensitive matter. I thought about putting it into my wallet but then I came to realize that it is one of the most likely places from where it can disappear. You know I'm always using it and all… Then I considered the breast pocket of my jacket but you see I'm not always wearing the same jacket so it's not a good place to put a phone number. This realization led me to the logical conclusion, using a very simple analogy, that I have to exclude all places that wouldn't be regular." At this point, Ziva began to realize that she had made a big mistake by engaging the man in any kind of conversation. "So, according to this theory, I can't put it into either of my pockets, I can't put it into my socks or my shoes or I can't slip it into the waistband of my trousers, though when I was a child I liked hiding things there. My mom used to call me 'my little peacock' because there was something sticking out from my waistband all the time." Here he chuckled, mostly to himself, finding that little anecdote very amusing and Ziva had to try very hard not to groan. "Anyway, I reached the conclusion that I need some permanent place. Of course my bag would be a logical choice but the risk of losing the number from there is almost as high as losing it from my pocket. So it will not work." The young man sighed in defeat but continued his line of thoughts, nonetheless. "Then my phone book occurred to me." Here Ziva sighed relieved. After all a phone book is the best place for a phone number. At least that was what she thought. Apparently the man thought otherwise. "But I never use my phone book so it is very unlikely that I will look for it there." Ziva sighed defeated, as the man just kept talking on about the different places one could put a phone number.

Faintly she could hear a door open behind her and when she discretely turned towards it, she could see an older man leave his apartment and walk up to them. A small smile appeared on her face as she recognized the man as Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the owner of the building. His name usually came up when Ari talked about his friends in New York and although he described the older man as a self-centered bastard who could annoy the hell even out of her mother who was the most patient creature on Earth, it was clear that her brother liked and respected him in a great deal.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Jimmy! Shut up!" The boy got silent in an instant and was blinking at the man with such a comical expression that Ziva couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips.

The man held out his hand toward the other man. "Well, come on!" gesturing that he wanted that piece of paper he was holding. The boy gave it to him without a word. "Your phone, too." When the man got both the phone and the paper, he quickly punched in the number and saved it, then tossed the phone back to the boy who could only catch it by pressing it to his chest to prevent it from falling on the floor. For a few moments he looked stunned but, when finally he managed to think over the events, a happy grin appeared on his face and he looked at the other man with sincere gratitude.

"Thank you, Sir." He beamed at the man who just rolled his eyes exasperatedly in return.

"Now you can introduce yourself to the lady."

"You are right, Sir."

"And don't call me sir."

"Sorry, S-. I mean, sorry." Then he turned to Ziva and, after pushing up his glasses up his nose, he offered his hand to the woman nervously. "Jimmy Palmer."

Ziva chuckled at his awkwardness, but then she accepted his outstretched hand and shook it with a warm smile.

"Ziva David. It's nice to meet you."

"Alright." The older man spoke up before they could get too friendly. "You can go now, Jimmy. I'm sure you have a book somewhere you haven't already read."

"Actually I have." Jimmy's whole face lit up with excitement. "I've just bought that book by Nietzsche…"

"Jimmy." The older man warned him with a stern look.

"Oh, right. I'm going now." He quickly made his way towards his apartment.

"Wow." Ziva turned to the man after Jimmy left, disbelief written all over her face. "That second 'b' in your name really is for bastard, yes?"

"Excuse me?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"You are Gibbs, right?"

"And how do you figure that?"

"Lucky guess, I think."

"Yeah, sure." He scoffed and despite looking quite annoyed with Ziva's attitude, he didn't make a move to leave the conversation. If anything, he seemed intrigued by the young woman in front of him.

"Besides, I have heard things." Ziva shrugged nonchalantly.

"Things, huh?"

"Let's just say that you are old enough and hard-assed enough to be Gibbs." Ziva gave him a sweet but very fake smile and watched with satisfaction as the man's eyebrow shot up in amusement.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, too." He smirked at her at last, then turned and began to walk away.

"You really are a bastard, you know that, right?" Ziva called after him. "You could have at least introduced yourself." The man stopped and turned back to her.

"Why? You already seem to know me and I already know your name, Ziva David." With that, he turned again and continued walking. "And I know that you're Ari's little sister."

"And how do you figure that?" Ziva shot back at the retreating form of the man.

"Well, you're young enough and gorgeous enough to be her…" Gibbs smirked as he walked. "Plus, you're a smartass."

"Jerk." Ziva muttered under her breath but Gibbs heard it nonetheless and laughed out loud.

"We have already established that… smartass." Gibbs was still laughing when he closed the door behind him.

Ziva remained standing there, slightly shaking her head in disbelief. But, if she wanted to be honest with herself, she was quite intrigued by the man.

Finally she turned to go out for a little while.

"When you give up chasing after Gibbs, I'm always available, darlin'." She heard Franks speak up under his straw hat. He hadn't moved an inch, though.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Ziva muttered in Hebrew and left without gracing him with a comment.

When she stepped onto the street, a little smile appeared on her face as she looked at the sign above Ari's bar. She quickly decided that she'd not wait for her brother to take her there.

She pushed the door to the bar open and stepped in, slowly taking in the spacious interior, which was created by transforming a couple of apartments and taking out a couple of walls. The upper part of the tall room was done up with a gallery that ran along the four walls, one of which was larger and covered a greater part of the room. Ziva could just assume from Ari's accounts that there was another bar up there, too. Right under that part, in the corner, there was the main bar that stood opposite to the entrance where Ziva was still standing.

"Hi! Can I help you?" The bartender smiled at Ziva welcomingly. She slowly made her way to the counter and sat down with her back to the rest of the bar.

"Hi! A jasmine tea, please." She smiled back at the tall man, who nodded and went to prepare the tea. Ziva watched for a while simply because she found him really nice. With his fair hair and warm blue eyes, he appeared to be one of the good guys. She slowly turned then, and continued observing the room. It was somewhat dark inside as the unique old lamps on the walls didn't give much light. However, she could see that the walls were covered with pictures and articles from old newspapers. The furniture was old, too, and Ziva noticed that the chairs around the tables weren't matching. The whole atmosphere of the place was warm and inviting, if not a little smoky and mystical, and the soft jazz music that played in the background just emphasized this. Ziva noticed a little stage in the far end of the bar but she couldn't pay much attention to it as somebody took the seat next to her.

"You new here?" Ziva heard that somebody asking. She turned towards the voice and looked at the man who was now sitting next to her. He was a tall, well-built man. Any woman would squeal in delight if a man like him had noticed her, but Ziva wasn't really in the mood for flirting. Not with him, anyway. Her encounter with Gibbs was still too fresh in her mind and she found the older man's reserved interest more attractive than that one's open inquiry.

"Yes." Ziva smiled at him, nonetheless. "Just visiting my brother in town."

"Welcome to New York then." The man gave her a warm smile. It was too warm for Ziva's liking and she squirmed a little under his forward gaze. She'd be damned, though, if she let that man make her feel uncomfortable so she held her ground smiling back at him. "Hey, Tim. Give me a coffee, please." He flagged the bartender, giving him only a fleeting glance, then he turned back to Ziva. "I'm Damon Werth."

"Ziva David."

"You're Ari's sister?" Ziva nodded. "I'll be damned. Hey, Tim." He looked at the other man who had just placed Ziva's tea and Damon's coffee in front of them. "She's Ari's little sister."

"Really? It's nice to meet you. Ari likes to talk about you."

"A lot." Damon added taking a sip from his coffee, checking her out appreciatively. "But I can see why." He was anything but subtle and Ziva could see the bartender roll his eyes before turning to her.

"My name is Timothy McGee. Just call me Tim."

"Ziva David." She introduced herself regarding Tim with furrowed brows. "You are the writer, yes? I read your book. It was very…"

"Familiar?" Damon supplied, not waiting for Ziva to finish her thought. "I bet you felt as if you had walked into the novel when you stepped through the gate." He laughed somewhat evilly at Tim who just rolled his eyes. It was obvious that he had already heard all of it a thousand times before. "Let's just hope that no corpse shows up in Ducky's store."

Damon was right, though, Ziva had to admit. Even she, who hadn't been in the building before and hadn't met the people living there, could recognize the various tenants in Tim's characters. But the poor guy looked so tired of the jokes that no doubt half of the building laughed about at his expense that she took pity on him.

"Well, I wanted to say interesting." Ziva turned to the frustrated Tim with a friendly smile. "I really liked it. The case was very tricky and your solution was really unexpected."

"Thank you, Ziva."

"Well, Ziva is right." If the man's evil smile was anything to go by, it seemed that Damon wouldn't let Tim off the hook just yet. "The plot was good enough but you should really work on your characterization. It was slightly off in some places."

"I do not know, Damon. I think that he nailed Dan Wreth's character perfectly." As she turned to face the man, Ziva was wearing the exact same kind of smile he had been giving the man behind the counter. "He was the perfect specimen of a condescending man with an ego larger than the Empire State Building."

"Oh, I can hear that you're right on topic." A young African American man appeared behind them and patted Damon on the back. "Damon just loves talking about himself." Tim chuckled at the expression that suddenly appeared on Damon's face and Ziva laughed out loud while she turned back towards the counter. "Oh, sorry, did I just ruin your chance with the lady here?" The stranger put quite a show on pretending to be considerate about that possibility, then he turned to Ziva. "Please, don't give up on him just because of me. He is a great guy. Just ask half of the population of New York." He looked sincere enough but his following words made Ziva raise an eyebrow at Demon, bemused. "The other half wouldn't know. They are the males."

"Well, Ron, I don't think that you should worry about that. Even Damon is not brave enough to ask Ari's sister out." Tim pointed out.

"Wow, you are Ari's sister?" Ziva nodded. "Good, you are safe then. Consider yourself lucky. I'm Ron Sacks."

"Ziva David."

"Well, I hope you'll have a great time here, Ziva." Ron told her as he took the seat on the other side of her.

"I can show you a great time." Damon noted matter-of-factly as he finished off his coffee. It was obvious, though, that he had come to realize that he stood no chance with the attractive woman sitting next to him.

That was the moment when her brother appeared at the door.

"Alright, guys. Stop drooling after my sister." Ari stepped up to the little group with Tony right beside him. "You two both have a beautiful little lady waiting for you and you, Damon…" Ari patted his back with a wide, cheeky grin. "My friend, she is way out of your league." Once again, the laughed that filled the bar was at Damon's expense who didn't find it funny at all.

"Come on, Princess. Let's make music!" Ari tugged Ziva off her seat then pulled her towards the stage. Tony and Ron followed suite while Damon just left feeling slightly dejected. Tim just shook his head at her friends' antics then went to turn off the music.

Ziva watched in childish excitement as Tony and Ari took their seats behind the piano and the drums, respectively, and Ron produced his bass from its case. They played a few accords just to check the tune.

"Alright, Sweet Cheeks. Grab the mike." Tony grinned at Ziva who gave him an incredulous look but took the microphone nonetheless.

"Today, we have to do without the sax because Leon has a match with the kids but he'll be here on Friday." Ari informed the band.

"What is on Friday?" Ziva asked her brother not really knowing what he was talking about.

"Why, we are playing here every Friday night." Ari replied matter-of-factly as he began to beat the rhythm of "Fly Me to the Moon". The other two men quickly joined the drums but Ziva just stood there looking at Ari with wide eyes. "You know, Zee, you don't have that mike in your hand because you look pretty with it. Come on, girl. Sing." Ziva shook her head with a little smile then sing she did. It seemed that she'd just got herself a program for Friday night.

TBC

Thanks for reading!