A/N: So here's chapter three. I just finished it and had a hard time writing it because I wasn't sure how foggy I'd allow it to be. This is the result, and as you've seen, I have named the chapters. There's no Z/B action in this chapter but it's somewhat interesting. Thanks to all who have faved the story and reviewed. Your reviews kept me writing this so quick (for me, that is).

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or NCIS or any of their characters. I only wish I did.

And horseninja, I'd never embarrass Bones out of jealousy. The writers have done that in the episode The Doctor in the Photo and I despised that. Yeah, she'll be giving some stares but I'd never make her do something illogical. Subtle gestures and denial, probably. I'll come up with some B/B scene in next chapter.

KYTIVAFAN, you read my mind! But I warn you, it is gonna be pretty Z/B friendly for a while but I won't deny that there's gonna be some B/B action in the end. I just don't know how I'm gonna do that without hurting someone.. Bones will not be a rebound.

Davorah13, neither can I. There's some hint of Tiva in here, though, but one-sided.


Chapter 3: The outcome of knowledge

It took him longer to drive to the headquarters of the agency than he would have liked if he'd been on a case. Today it felt like an eternity because of the many questions and pieces of broken informations that circled in his head. He kept denying the little information Ziva had given him and rejecting the truth. Although the mission was seven years ago, his memories were far from blurry and seemed more sincere than the half-truths he'd been given this morning. To know if she was lying or not, he had to see her file.

Which meant he had to go to the one person he was sure had been cooperating with NCIS. He sighed and parked the car in his usual spot but found himself hesitating as he exited the car. The fresh air seemed too dusty for him and he closed his eyes but it didn't keep pictures of Ziva – no, this time it was Sarah (and who could blame him? It was like they were two different persons) – from entering his mind and playing with him, just like he had been experiencing the day he woke up from brain surgery.

That realization stung in his chest. It reminded him of Bones and how he merely a week ago would've killed to be working with her again, and now was working on something without her – avoiding her and keeping something from her. He had considered mentioning it to her when he'd seen her in her office when she arrived from Guatemala but something seemed wrong with that. No, this was a piece of his past that he wouldn't let her tamper with. Something personal that he wasn't ready to discuss with the anthropologist.

So with pictures of seven years ago and his partner's horrified face when he hadn't recognized her, he hurried to the Edgar Hoover building and passing his own office on the way. He had way too much on his mind to notice how dim it looked and didn't even think about how he hadn't been in there for months. His new obsession kept him from picking up the vibes or glances from the secretaries and agents he passed. He finally reached the right office and hesitated. Was it really that important and did he really want the truth?

His hand automatically made its way to knock on the door and he damned his curiosity. Seconds passed by until a voice told him to come in.

Booth opened the door and saw the face of FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell sitting behind the desk that took up most of the office. He closed the door behind him as the older agent gestured for him to come in. as he opened his mouth to speak, Fornell signed for him to stop as he typed something on his computer, giving Booth time to look at the aging agent.

Tobias Fornell had been in the Federal Bureau of Investigation for more than two decades and had both respect, a great resume and the physical appearance to prove it. His face wore the marks of knowledge and experience and a look of authority that only respected and successful agents possessed. His suit jacket hung on the back of his chair and the white shirt underneath was nicely ironed, which made Booth relax further. At least the special agent wasn't working a case that required night hours and Fornell appeared to have been sleeping recently. Booth's eyes rested on a photo frame with a picture of Fornell and what appeared to be his daughter. It had been a long time since Booth had seen Emily who was about Parker's age. The photo was probably taken by Fornell's wife.

When Fornell was done with the report, he looked at Booth with a piercing gaze. He cleared his throat and gestured for Booth to sit down and the younger agent obeyed.

"So, Agent Booth, what brings you to my office? I heard you've just been reinstated," Fornell said and looked into his eyes, before adding, "Congratulations," with a suspicious mine. He had sensed that Booth wasn't here to discuss play dates between their children but seemed okay with the break from paperwork.

"Thanks, sir. I just wanted to know if you by any chance has been in contact with a woman named Ziva David during joint cases with the Naval Criminal Investigation Service?" he asked and picked up the recognition Fornell showed at the name. Although it wasn't an interrogation and Booth certainly hadn't interrogated anyone in months, he had caught Fornell off guard and now had the element of surprise to his advantage. However, he didn't suspect that Fornell would lie about meeting someone. Again, he was surprised by the older agent's sudden paranoia and curiosity while he oozed of someone trying to talk casually.

"NCIS? What are you working on a case that requires something like that?" Fornell said and leaned back in his chair.

"No, I am just curious," Booth lied with sincerity. It was only a half lie. He really was curious. "So, I guess you've met her when you worked with them?"

Fornell glared in his direction and paused before speaking. "I wouldn't go near that team if I were you, Booth. Trust me, there's a lot to say and I warn you, whatever reason you're asking of agent David, it's not worth it," he revealed and analyzed Booth's reaction like if in interrogation. Booth wasn't sure who was the suspect in that scenario but continued the conversation and the casual tone as he sensed Fornell was holding something back.

"Why?" the younger agent only said and eyed Fornell. "I hear they are uncooperative but I have no interest in dealing with them. I just think I have met Agent David in the past," he said and emphasized the last part so Fornell had no doubt that it wasn't a personal tie that had brought his curiosity forward.

"First off all, they protect themselves. A few years back, I worked with them when one of them was framed for murder. They're anything but willing to admit they're covering up. Agent David, as you've met, works for the Major Crime Response Team here in DC," Fornell revealed and tried to measure the surprise that came upon Booth's face. "For the past four years."

Booth was startled. Sure, he'd known that Ziva was here now but if she had been here for the last four years how had he not seen her? They could have stumbled across each other while doing grocery shopping, or met at a crime scene. In the past he'd had naval personnel involved in his crime scenes and in the investigation itself and he might even had seen her name on a report once but dismissed it. He almost choked on air but remembered where he was and tried to cover up how flabbergasted he actually were.

His brain had just progressed the information that Ziva had given him and now while he registered and denied this, he realized how many lies – no, just how much she hadn't told him whilst she could've. Booth had thought that she'd been so open, but now knew that she had told him exactly enough so he'd be satisfied and so little that he couldn't contact her. He didn't know where she lived, what job she had or what had brought her to the therapy class or anything! She had answered his questions and yet revealed nothing.

He let out a choking sound and stared at Fornell.

Meanwhile, at the Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters

Tony looked at the clock for the umpteenth time since this morning. He had memorized at what time his partner's lessons were finished and he had calculated in the last few weeks and estimated how long it usually took her to come entering the bullpen. Now it was 10.03 A.M. and her lessons finished at 9.00 A.M. Sometimes – three in total – she'd stopped for breakfast (at least that was what she'd told him) first and arrived later. But never that late and that was why he'd called her at 9.45 and asked how long it would take her to get the coffee. Without disobedience, she'd agreed and he hadn't dared to ask her what was the reason she'd been so eager to finish the phone call. He still wasn't certain what they were or where they stood; friends, colleagues, acquaintances? After Tel Aviv he'd been certain that she hated him but after Somalia, he was unsure of every move she made and doubted if it was against him or if she staggered towards her father.

Couldn't live without you, he'd said. That was true so he'd just have to live with her being here, uncertain of them.

As he gave the phone the death glare of Gibbs for the thousandth time since twenty minutes ago, he heard the elevator ding and quickly shot his line of vision towards his co-worker who came bearing four styrofoam cups with coffee – two black coffees for their boss and herself, one literally sugarcoated, and a moccachino. Wordlessly, she balanced the chart and maneuvered to Gibbs' desk, continued to McGee's – who was in Abby's lab, helping her decode a encrypted laptop – and placed her own next to her computer in a swift movement and handed his to him in seconds.

"Thanks," Tony replied hoarsely, catching himself in having his mouth agape for the whole time. He didn't say more as his dignity preferably had some tiny piece left of it and he wouldn't risk that. Plus, he had nothing to say that wouldn't make them both awkward and uncomfortable. He discretely watched as she sat down, swung her bag on its position next to her desk and rebooted the computer that she wouldn't use, only to avoid any conversation.

Tony tightened his hands in fists but said nothing as he pretended to turn his attention elsewhere. He held back from a great sigh and wet his lips as their boss appeared in the bullpen. Tony tried to listen to what his boss had to say but the upset mine of Ziva's face didn't go unnoticed by him, as Gibbs seemed to. Or maybe he chose to ignore it. Tony found it wise not to comment.

In the office of Tobias Fornell

Booth listened as Fornell continued, not believing half of the things that was subtle being said but nevertheless registering them for later use. He stored the pieces of informations in his mind and found himself puzzled by how involved Fornell seemed to be with the naval Major Crime Response Team.

"Her team is led by a former marine by the name of Gibbs. Nasty old bastard but I suppose you can call him a friend of mine," the older agent admitted as he dwelled upon a street along memory lane. Booth noted how he continued to avoid further deepening into their specific relationship. It, however, didn't go unnoticed by him that Fornell's eyes twitched and flickered to the photo of his daughter when he mentioned the latter part of the admission.

"It was the late NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard who approved Agent David's transfer as a liaison officer between Mossad and her agency." Fornell looked at him, expecting another surprised expression at the revelation of the position and Ziva's ties with Mossad. He didn't get any and reluctantly carried on with unease.

"She was sent here to avoid an international crisis between Israel and the U.S., and after the crisis was over, she remained as a part of the team. I have worked with them several times and trust me, her loyalty lies with them. In the four years she has only been absent twice and...," Fornell trailed off, uncertain if he were to proceed. He looked at Booth to clarify his own opinion that he might not like what he was to know after this statement.

"And..?" Booth asked with interest.

The older agent sighed and made a decision. "Last year, she was sent back to Mossad after the inconvenient death of Director Shepard whom she were to protect during a protection detail with her partner, Agent DiNozzo," Fornell said with a somewhat despise and perhaps annoyance that probably covered his true opinions of the agent. Booth picked up on the name revelation of Ziva's so far unnamed partner. DiNozzo. He pictured an obese Italian guy with the usual detective arrogance and smoke habit. How could someone like that work with her? His mind drifted off but Fornell continued the talk and so Booth kept up.

"She was injured during the Mossad assignment and sent back." Fornell grunted at that but didn't explain why. "However, things were never quite the same..."

"How so?"

"Six months later, a protected house was compromised. I don't know the details but several heads of agencies risked their lives when someone killed an ICE agent to get to them. The next thing I know, half of the team flies to LA to do some digging and meets an old partner of Officer David. Because of his contact to Mossad, he is released."

Booth shot his gaze to Fornell's and the older agent sighed, leaned down and unlocked his desk drawer, finding a specific file.

"Two weeks later, he's dead by the hand of one Anthony DiNozzo. His name? Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin."


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