Chapter 2
Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was willing the elevator to go faster. He wasn't usually the first one at work because he figured that was more befitting of a Probie like McGee, and there was no beating the boss anyway. Sometimes Tony wondered whether Gibbs was sleeping at all between his time at work and his nocturnal boat-building sessions in his basement. Either way, today Tony had a good reason to show up early.
Today was Ziva's first day back at work after her time in Israel to bury her father Eli David. She had been gone for more than a week, which was understandable and still didn't seem like enough time to get over such a profound loss. So yeah, Tony hated to admit it to himself, and he certainly wouldn't have said it out loud, but he was nervous. A bit. A teeny tiny bit, really.
First of all, there was the question of how Ziva was doing, of course. Just because she had buried her father didn't mean that she had stopped hurting. The next issue on his how-to-deal-with-your-coworker/friend/whatever-might-be-beyond-that list was how to actually approach the topic of Ziva's possible hurting.
Tony had tried to help her and to be there for her when she had stayed in his apartment (and slept in his bed, which he had imagined more than just a couple of times, but then in reality had turned out not quite how he had thought it would). But that night Ziva had pushed him away, only to hug him before leaving for Israel the next day.
Man, that woman really was a piece of work. But then, Tony had always liked that about her, only now… now vaguely disturbing thoughts about life and what he wanted to do with the time he had left kept popping up in his head every now and then. And once he tried to figure out how those kinds of thoughts might be connected to Ziva, he really started getting headaches.
If it were up to him, he would just go back to hugging her, like when they'd said goodbye at the airport. Tony would hold her in his arms or do whatever it was that Ziva wanted. He really thought he was ready. Well, maybe. But the bigger question was whether Ziva thought he was.
At the airport, he had told her that she was not alone (or at least, Tony feverishly hoped he had said that – Hebrew was one heck of a difficult language). Ziva had acknowledged that with an 'I know' and a sad smile. But what exactly did that mean for them now?
To his enormous surprise, Tony was not the first one to get to work after all. In fact, the squad room was practically stuffed with people, and it took Tony less than a second to realize whose idea that had been. Ziva's desk was kind of a giveaway. Ziva herself wasn't there yet, but her workplace was decorated with colorful balloons, paper streamers, smiley faces and a huge 'Welcome back' sign. The only possible perpetrator behind all this stood right next to the mistreated desk and admired her handiwork.
"Abby, what the hell is all this?" Tony asked bluntly.
Usually, he knew better than to be mean to Abby because there were only two possible but equally unpleasant outcomes: a) Gibbs would beat you to a pulp with a baseball bat or b) Abby would kill you herself and make sure that there was no forensic evidence to be found whatsoever. But this time the happy Goth had really crossed the line, and Tony couldn't help himself.
But Abby didn't take him seriously anyway. "What? I just thought Ziva should know how happy we are that she's coming back today."
"Yah, from burying her father," Tony reminded her.
"Relax, Tony," Ducky interjected. "I already tried to convince her to tone it down a bit, but you know Abby, and so does Ziva. She will understand."
"I think it's pretty cool," Palmer added with one of his geeky grins. "I'd love to be welcomed back like this…"
Tony gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, nobody asked you, autopsy gremlin."
"Oh come on, Tony," McGee pitched in. "Perhaps it will make Ziva smile a little."
"Et tu, McBrute?" was all Tony replied.
Okay, if he was really honest with himself, it wasn't just that he thought this to be inappropriate. He was also a little annoyed that Abby had ruined his plan of being the first and only one to greet Ziva upon her return. Fine, perhaps more than just a little.
"Okay, I see you're ganging up on me. That's fine. But don't come running to me when this ends badly, and by badly I mean…" Tony had been about to turn around as if to leave, but instead he walked right into Gibbs.
"You got a problem, DiNozzo?" his boss asked, pinning him down with that Gibbs stare of his.
Tony dropped his backpack. "No, everything's great, boss."
"Good." Gibbs headed towards his desk, but at the same time the elevator doors pinged and opened to reveal the one they had all been waiting for.
Ziva stopped in surprise when she saw all those eyes focused on her, standing next to the confetti explosion that had once been her desk. But she didn't get to say anything because Abby quickly ran towards her to pull her into one of her famous hugs. "Ziva!"
To Tony's slight dismay, Ziva actually did smile a little. Dammit, Abby really could get away with anything.
The bubbly forensic specialist took Ziva's hand and led her towards the rest of the group, who took turns greeting her.
"Good to have you back, my dear," Ducky said while giving her a gentler version of Abby's stormy embrace.
"Thank you, Ducky." Ziva's voice was soft but measured.
Palmer only managed a nervous handshake with a 'Hello Ziva', and McGee followed suit, but with a warm 'Great to have you back, Ziva'.
"'Bout time," was the only thing Gibbs said, but everyone knew that he was more of a 'actions speak louder than words' type of guy. The way he pulled Ziva into his arms and – perhaps more importantly – the way Ziva let herself be held and her entire body relaxed for a second, really did say more than anything else.
Weirdly enough, Tony felt a twinge of jealousy. It wasn't that he begrudged Ziva her relationship with Gibbs. Hell, the guy was almost like a father to him as well. No, he was only envious of the easiness between them; the way Gibbs held her in his arms as if it came naturally to him – which it probably did.
Even though Tony had held Ziva in his arms just recently, he didn't feel like he could just do it again. So when Ziva turned towards him because he was the only one left, they just stood there facing each other for a second. "Hey there, gorgeous," Tony said eventually.
"Hello, Tony," Ziva replied flatly. "And thank you, all of you. This… would not have been necessary."
"Of course it was, Ziva," Abby insisted. "Our family is not complete without you."
Ziva only smiled, but it was that sad smile again – meaning that Abby had just accidentally reminded her of how very incomplete her biological family was by now.
Gibbs seemed to notice that this was on the verge of becoming too much for Ziva because he clapped his hands and said, "Hey, don't you all have some work to do?"
Everyone murmured acknowledgements, and Ducky and Palmer were the first to head back to autopsy. Abby gave Ziva another hug before leaving as well.
Ziva turned towards her desk and took in all the balloons and stuff. "I could take care of that for you if you like," McGee offered.
"Thanks, McGee. I did not want to be rude to Abby, but…"
"Yeah, I know. She went a little overboard. But she's just really happy to see you. We all are."
"I know," Ziva said and smiled – at McHelpful of all people!
While McGee started to clear the desk, Ziva set down her backpack and then silently left in the direction of the break room. Tony realized that this might be the only chance he'd get, so he stopped hesitating and followed her.
The break room was otherwise empty. Ziva was leaning against one of the vending machines, her eyes closed. Tony took advantage of that and studied her for a moment.
Ziva was wearing tight jeans and a black blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Her beautiful dark brown hair was in her favorite high ponytail and her entire appearance was nothing if not professional. But at the same time it was guarded, really just a façade to hide whatever was going on inside. It certainly wasn't the loose, happy, and fun-to-be-around Ziva who drove him crazy with her maltreatment of American idioms and at the same time amazed him with her sharp wit and unexpected humor.
Tony sighed and entered the room. Ziva's eyes immediately snapped open again. "How was Israel?" he asked.
"Hot," Ziva replied curtly.
"Yeah, I remember that part," Tony said and after a short pause decided to just go for it. "So we're not going to talk about it?"
Ziva looked at him and it wasn't exactly inviting. "Talk about what, Tony?"
Still he held her gaze. "About the funeral? About how you're doing?"
"I'm fine, Tony," she said and looked away again.
"Yeah, you say that a lot. Doesn't make it easier to believe you, though."
"Well, that is your problem then, Tony, not mine." Ziva's voice was icy now, and she moved as if to walk away.
Tony quickly reached for her arm to stop her but just as quickly let go again. "Come on, Ziva, I thought we were past this."
Ziva stopped but still looked reluctant. "Past what, Tony?"
"Pretending," he said, sounding deadly serious, even to himself.
For about a second they looked at each other with such intensity that Tony thought everything might be possible, but then he could practically see how Ziva was pulling back again. "I am not pretending, Tony. I am moving on with my life. There is nothing else to say."
Tony realized that he was losing her and that there was no point in pushing her to talk about her father. But there was something else he was concerned about, something he couldn't just let go. "Okay, then let's talk about what else you did in Israel."
"What are you talking about, Tony?" Ziva asked, now beginning to sound irritated.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about or rather whom. Don't tell me you didn't go looking for Ilan Bodnar."
"So what if I did?"
"So did you find him?"
The look on Ziva's face went dark. "If I had, he would be dead by now, Tony."
"Yah, or you would be," Tony corrected her grimly.
"It would have been worth it," Ziva replied just as grimly.
"See, that's where we have to agree to disagree. I get that you want justice for what happened. So do we. But you can't just sacrifice everything for that, your career, your life!"
Ziva's eyes flashed with fury. "Tony, he was deputy director of Mossad. He made my father trust him, pretended to be like a son, and then he had him killed!"
"And I promise you that we'll get him for that. For you and for Director Vance and his family. We'll get you justice, but when the time is right!" Tony couldn't help slightly raising his voice as well.
"And what if the time will never be right, Tony? Ilan killed my father! There is only one choice for me now! But it's still my choice and my life. What gives you the right to tell me what to do with it?"
Tony stared at her, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat. This was so not going according to plan – which might have to do with the fact that he'd never really had a plan.
But before he could try to think of something, Gibbs appeared in the doorway. "Hey, you planning on getting back to work any time soon?"
Tony cringed. "Um, of course. Sorry, boss. Where are we going?"
"New York."
That was so unexpected that Tony and Ziva exchanged a surprised look. "As in 'if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere', boss?"
Gibbs didn't deem that worthy of a direct response. "Got a call that local police found a dead Petty Officer. Since our office in New York is currently understaffed, I'm sending you two."
"Gibbs, I would rather go with…" Ziva began.
"Now!" Gibbs interrupted her.
In a hurry they left the break room to grab their gear and to get ready to leave the Navy Yard, while Tony tried not to take Ziva's attempt to be partnered with McGee too personal, except that it was. What the hell had happened since she had hugged him on that airfield?
Well, she had buried her father and hunted for his killer, apparently in vain. Obviously, that was a lot to deal with, and under any other circumstances Tony could have given her time, perhaps even space, but not if he had to worry that Ziva might take off on some crazed quest for revenge that might get her suspended or thrown into jail or, worst of all, killed. But apparently, he needed to change tactics because if trying to talk to her meant pushing her further away, he was getting nowhere.
On their way to Andrews Air Force Base, Tony tried to get back onto common ground. "A trip to the Big Apple – paid in full by the Navy – I could imagine a worse start into a new week," he said, glancing at Ziva in hope of a response.
Ziva, who was driving because Tony was more concerned about sucking up to her than about his safety, kept looking straight ahead, but she said, "We are not going sightseeing, Tony."
"Ah, but that's the beauty of the Big Apple. There's a fundamental piece of American culture everywhere you look."
Ziva frowned. "I have never understood why everybody gets so excited about this city or why they call it that. It bears absolutely no resemblance to a fruit."
Tony couldn't help but smile when he heard that familiar I-will-never-understand-Americans tone of voice that Ziva still hadn't abandoned, even though technically, she was American herself now. "Ah, Ziva, Ziva, you have to stop taking everything so literally. Sometimes the beauty of things depends on your imagination. Imagine… strolling through Central Park, waiting to meet the love of your life like Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in You've got mail, or jumping from the Empire State Building to be saved by Spiderman, or driving a cab like Robert De Niro in the 1976 classic Taxi Driver…"
They entered the Air Force base and Ziva hit the brakes. "Okay, I get it, Tony. They made a lot of movies in New York."
While they got out of the car and into the already waiting cargo jet that would drop them off in New York, Tony protested, "It doesn't sound very exciting if you put it like that."
"That's because it is not supposed to be exciting or fun. This is work and somebody died, Tony," Ziva replied.
Tony used the time during take-off to wonder whether she had referred to her father, but then decided that she had probably only been talking about the dead sailor, so he said, "But that doesn't mean that I can't try to bring a smile to that beautiful face of yours, Zee-vah."
She looked at him with a perfect poker face on. "Then I hope you have a better plan than just to quote movies."
Tony raised his eyebrows. "Ziva David, was that a challenge? Because you know how much I hate to lose."
"So do I, Tony. But I've learned that life rarely cares about what it is that you want." The look in her eyes made it clear that now they were indeed back to the topic of her father's death.
"Then you might just be in for a surprise," Tony replied. Because I'll be damned if I ever let you get hurt again.
For about a second Ziva looked as if she had read his thoughts, but then she just leaned back on the rather uncomfortable cargo bench they were sitting. "We'll see."
The remaining flight was relatively short, and Tony mostly kept his mouth shut, so he wouldn't ruin whatever progress he had just made. When they had reached New York and their crime scene and Tony saw all those detectives standing around there, including some very fine female specimen, he couldn't help joking, "Wow, I never knew New Yorker crime scenes had so much going for them."
Ziva rolled her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up, Tony. I doubt they'll be very welcoming since you're here to take over their case."
"Ah, you just let me handle it, Zee-vah."