Ziva David smelled like sex. Not what she was going for when there was no possible way to get around a confrontation with Eli about leaving Mossad, which through his eyes inevitably meant leaving her country and her family. She was going to be his third and final child to leave him, to disappoint him, to fail to live up to expectations. And she was the one he had always had the most hope for.
"I can take ultra secure underground parking structure for Mossad officers off of my list now." Tony said as he steered the Mossad issued Mercedes SVU out of the garage, interrupting her inner monologue.
"You have always wanted to have sex here?" Ziva asked in the incredulous tone she seemed to reserve exclusively for him. Tony winked at her.
"Only since I met you." He quipped. Ziva rolled her eyes but couldn't keep from smiling. She pointed him towards a cluster of parked cars and gasped.
"Pull in there." She instructed before jumping out of the car and barreling toward an attractive guy who looked like he was fairly close to them in age and throwing her arms around him. Tony's eyes narrowed as she brought him towards the car. She held him loosely by the wrist and pulled him in Tony's direction. He should be mature and get out to shake his hand, but this was too new for him to be above protective jealousy. At least, Tony reasoned with himself, he resisted the urge to get out and claim his territory. It always good to know he could fight his inner caveman.
"Who is the fellow with his arm around your very tan and exposed shoulders?" He asked before Ziva could say anything. She smiled coyly and leaned in, her mouth close to his ear.
"I have always found it incredibly sexy when you get jealous." She whispered. "Very special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of NCIS, meet officer Ravi David of Mossad." Tony extended his hand through the open car window.
"David, you say?" He asked.
"Ziva is my cousin." Rafi said with a pleasant smile. "Based on your reaction, I can safely say that you must be the boyfriend." Ziva cringed but Tony's smile went from sheepish to his trademark frat boy grin.
"Only took me five years and countless cold showers." Rafi returned his grin with a knowing smirk that Tony instantly related to. Ziva, on the other hand, frowned.
"How bad is it?" She asked Rafi. Her cousin grinned.
"You really pissed him off this time, Ziva." She bit her lower lip and leaned against the car, weighing her options. She wanted to be the one to tell Tony she was leaving Mossad, but the timing had to be right; she didn't want to scare him with the meaning behind her decision and she certainly didn't want Eli breaking the news.
"Wait with Tony?" She asked Rafi. "I need a moment with the Director." Rafi nodded.
"Could I interest you in an afternoon cocktail, Agent DiNozzo?"
"Call me Tony. And you certainly can. Big bad Director David? I'll need one."
Ziva grinned and leaned in the car window to kiss him. "Make it a double."
Jeanne Benoit smelled like sweat. It was so damn hot in this hell hole of a desert, she had spent the last hour wondering how anyone could live here. She felt yet another surge of anger at her father, one of many since the two Israelis had shown up at her door to escort her to Tel Aviv. They kept insisting she knew something, even if she didn't realize it. That was five days ago, and yet, here she was, waiting for the Director's daughter and some CIA agent to show up and investigate.
She was fantasizing about being back in Paris where it wasn't so hot, and wasn't quite so hostile when movement out the window caught her eye.
She wandered over and watched a beautiful tan girl with flowing curly hair talk to an attractive looking guy and the driver of an SUV. Jeanne watched her lean in the car, and kiss the guy driving. The sun visor was down and blocking his face, but from the girl's elated expression, Jeanne couldn't help but feel jealous. This girl looked like untouchably happy, and Jeanne knew that feeling. She sighed and sank back down onto the leather couch. She crossed and then uncrossed her legs, feeling restless and unsettled, like she did every time she thought about Tony. Frustration filled her; it had been over a year, during which time she had managed to put herself back together, save for these moments.
"Dad, Tony, Tony, Dad. Natural correlation. Get it together." She muttered to herself, before flipping open a magazine and continuing to wait.
Tony DiNozzo was determined not to show fear. Eli David was a shark, and he could smell fear like blood. Rafi shot him a sidelong glance; they were on their way to his office, when around a corner, out of nowhere, came Director David. Ziva was nowhere to be seen.
"Agent DiNozzo." Eli said, smiling. Tony smiled back hesitantly. Whatever he had been expecting, it was more along the lines of water boarding or bamboo shoots under his toenails, not a friendly hello.
"Director David." He said dryly. "What a pleasure."
"We should talk, Agent DiNozzo. Alone if you do not object." The sharpness in his tone that let Tony know there was no option involved in his statement reminded Tony of Gibbs.
"Of course not, Director. I was really hoping we'd get to bond."
"You overwhelm me with your sincerity, Anthony." Eli said, opening a door to an empty room and eyeing Rafi. "You can come collect him in a few moments, Rafi. In the meantime, find Ziva."
Tony sat without being asked, his eyes traveling around the room. It didn't look, or feel for that matter, like an interrogation room per say, but it was Mossad; he wasn't convinced the torture wasn't coming.
"Relax." Director David said, chuckling. "It is a multi-purpose room, not an interrogation or persuasion room. And I am typically not violent with my daughter's…." he trailed off, arching an eyebrow at Tony.
"I take it you're hoping I'm going to say very temporary fling."
"I certainly had my hopes set on that, yes. But I know Ziva. And she loves this country. She is one of the best officers this organization has ever seen, and she is loyal. She would not ask to resign from Mossad if she was not sure."
For the second time in ten minutes, Tony didn't know what to say or how to react. Leaving Mossad? "It seems that I have finally managed to get you to stop talking." Eli said. Tony's eyebrows shot up as he was immediately vaguely reminded of Gibbs. "So, Special Agent DiNozzo. You have clearly had a great impact on my daughter. But what of her impact on you?"
Tony grinned, recovering his composure. "Well she slugged me in the arm last week, and I've got a nasty bruise. Is that the kind of compact you're asking about?" Eli smiled and pulled out a file with Tony's photo clipped to the outside. Tony groaned inwardly.
"A long tenure at NCIS. Bachelor. Many women though." Director David mused. "But nothing permanent. Perhaps you are not what you would call the commitment type? Or should I ask Ms. Benoit?"
Tony smiled again before giving Eli an exaggerated, put off look. "Come on. You're the Director of Mossad, and that's all you've got?"
"Your psychiatric evaluations are interesting. No mother. Strained relationship with your father."
"Which explains why I relate so well to Ziva." Tony shot back. Still, Eli didn't react to him. He flipped a page in Tony's open file.
"You are a narcissist. An empathetic narcissist, but you do have a driving need for attention. You love to be the hero, the protector, do you not?"
"I'm also Italian. Catholic. Non practicing of course."
"You were accused of murder, yes?"
"Were you referring to the time before or after Jeanne told the FBI I shot her father?"
Eli looked up from the file, an undeniable expression of amusement on his face. "Should I have brought protection?" he asked.
Tony flashed another aw shucks smiled and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Nah, you're safe. Rene Benoit I could have taken." He lowered his voice and looked around as though they may be someone who would overhear. "He was French, you know." He whispered loudly.
"Impressive, Agent DiNozzo. Even some of my agents may have taken that bait." Director David closed the file and looked at him with an expression similar to the way he regarded Gibbs in MTAC. "Do you love Ziva?"
"Yes." No hesitation.
"You told Monsieur Benoit the same thing about his daughter."
"This, Director, is different." Tony said. "I loved Jeanne." He paused, uncertain of how to say the right thing.
"Forgive me, Anthony, if I do not see the difference."
"I was in love with Ziva then too." He blurted out. "Being in love with my mark was simpler, believe it or not. And I did love her. Just not like…" he trailed off, and asked himself what Gibbs would do, if this was Shannon. "I want her out of here." Tony said. "I'm sure she had her own reasons for keeping that little gem to herself, and I don't care. I want her out. No more secrets, no more bomb blasts, no more missions with bullets I can't feign the delusion I can protect her from."
"She has devoted her life to Mossad. To Israel." Eli said slowly, almost sorrowfully.
"She will still be your daughter. And she will still love this country. And she will fight the good fight. Just in a safer environment. That would provide for a much longer life. That would leave time for a wedding and grandchildren." Tony was satisfied to see that the big bad Director of Mossad looked surprised.
"With all due respect, sir, you've already lost a daughter. You've got one left, and the longer she stays with Mossad, the bigger the odds that you'll lose the chance to walk her down the aisle, to have grandchildren." Eli's eyes snapped to meet Tony's with a sharpness that Tony recognized. Gibbs gave him that look, and it usually meant he should stop talking. The Director seemed to be appraising him.
"Ziva told me that as her Director, she was telling me to take her weapons and bury her alternate identities." Eli said slowly. "She asked me to accept that decision as her father."
"And do you?"
"On one condition, Special Agent DiNozzo."
"What's that?"
"If you have a son, you will not name it Anthony." Tony grinned and nodded, crossing his fingers under the table as Director David shook his hand.
"I knew you couldn't pass up the chance to have me as a potential son in law!" Tony boomed, reaching over to clap Eli on the back. David shot him a look that could rival the Gibbs stare. "Too soon?" Tony asked. Eli muttered something in Hebrew as he opened another file, and Tony found himself staring at a picture of Rene Benoit.
Ziva heard Rafi calling her name. She turned to see him standing alone, a guilty smile on his face. "Oh he did not." She said. She didn't need long to study the expression on her cousins face to determine the answer. "Oh no." Rafi opened his mouth but it was cut off by her cell phone. "David." She answered.
"Ziva, its McGee. Gibbs wants to talk to you and Tony." Ziva sighed. Of course he did. As if it wasn't complicated enough.
"That is impossible. Only half of us is available." McGee shot a nervous glance toward Gibbs who giving him the stare.
"Uh, is everything ok? Is Tony okay?"
"Of course everything is not okay! We have so much to figure out and we are here, and he is being interrogated by my father!" Ziva shot out quickly and loudly. The remaining rational part of her brain said Gibbs was likely nearby and she should shut up didn't stand a chance at this point. "Not only did he just, for the first time call himself my boyfriend, but he is undoubtedly learning from my father, my director, that I am leaving Mossad. Something I wanted to tell him myself. In due time."
"You're leaving Mossad?" Ziva let out a laugh.
"I am leaving Mossad. For me, I suppose, but for him as much as anything." She couldn't help but smile as McGee was silent.
"So its real? You really love him?" He asked.
"I know it is hard to believe but I really do love him." Ziva wandered into the lounge on the executive floor, the lounge she had always been particularly partial to, only to see the woman she knew in her mind only as her or the other one; Jeanne Benoit.
"Got to go McGee, talk to you soon." She stood, feeling frozen for the first time in a very long time. She willed her feet to move her away from Jeanne but it wasn't happening fast enough.
"Hi." Ziva turned and smiled at the body carrying the voice.
"Hello."
Jeanne paused, searching her memory; there was something oddly familiar about that profile, that light, pleasing accent. Ziva weighed her options, and decided it was not her secret to tell.
"Ziva David." She said, extending her hand.
"Jeanne Benoit." She said as they shook hands. I know who you are, Ziva thought, feeling as though she had too many unfair advantages. She knew what was coming for Jeanne.
"David," Jeanne mused. "As in Director David?" Ziva gave her a slight nod.
"Eli David is the director of Mossad. And my father."
"And you're a Mossad agent? At least for the time being?" Jeanne smiled. "I couldn't help overhearing."
Ziva returned her smile with a tentative grin of her own. "I am leaving Mossad. It is difficult, but it is the right thing to do. My father doesn't see it that way. He lives by his own code." Jeanne nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing her features.
"I know a little bit about that."
"Your father. The arms dealer." Jeanne shuddered a little.
"How do you forgive him, knowing how much blood is on his hands? For how his decisions changed your life?" Ziva shrugged.
"When you figure it out, let me know." She said quietly meeting Jeanne's eyes. Jeanne returned the slow sad smile with one of her. "My father trained me to be an assassin, and sent me to kill on his orders. He has lied to me and misled me so many times, and risked my life time and time again. But he is still my father." Jeanne nodded, feeling an understanding pass between them.
"I know something about dishonest men. My father, my..." She trailed off. "I went through decades not knowing who he was, what he did every day."
"He should not have lied to you." Ziva said. "But I understand why he did. If you had known…" she met Jeanne's eyes. "I understand why he thought it was better that way. He only wanted to protect you." Jeanne nodded, and smiled softly at her.
"Thank you." she whispered. "It's hard to talk about when it's not something people understand. How many people can relate to your father being an international arms dealer?"
"The daughter of the director of a network of assassins?" Ziva asked, jokingly flashing a playful smile. Jeanne chuckled, feeling more at ease than she had the entire time she'd been here.
"Well, no offense to your father, Ziva, but I just don't understand why he's got me here. I don't know what he thinks I could possibly know to help."
"I am not entirely certain myself." Ziva replied slowly. "We have just gotten here and he has not briefed us on the details of the mission." Jeanne gave her a knowing smile, thinking that she might like this…assassin.
"Right. The new boyfriend, being interrogated?"
"How did you know that?" Ziva snapped sharply, looking up at her.
"Like I said, I couldn't help overhearing." Ziva smiled, relaxed again, until she realized she didn't want Jeanne to know the truth quite yet because she actually liked her.
"Oh right, of course." She muttered. "Yes, I fear my father may be trying to scare him off." Jeanne looked at Ziva; her deep eyes, her perfect body, her tan skin. She rolled her eyes at her.
"Yea, somehow I don't think that's going to work."
"Certainly has not until this point." Ziva joked with a smile. "But you do not know my father. And they are both complicated men. And I am not sure where our relationship is after years of prancing around our feelings for each other."
"I think you mean dancing."
Ziva chuckled. "You will have to excuse my issues with American idioms. "Dancing around our feelings. I suppose that a very small part of me is afraid it was the dance he enjoyed, although when he tells me otherwise I do believe him. I have seen how much he has changed."
"Proceed with caution." Jeanne said, wincing at the bitterness in her own voice. She ran a hand through her hair and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry. Last real break up was a bad one." Ziva almost apologized, but sensed she didn't want to talk about it.
"Of course, there is always the chance my father is currently torturing him, which I'm sure he has seen in a movie somewhere." Ziva said without thinking, trying to lighten the mood. Jeanne's eyes snapped up and narrowed before relaxing again.
"Ziva." Her father's voice.
"Excuse me for a moment, Jeanne."
"What American agency did you say you were from?" Jeanne asked, her voice shaking slightly.
"Uh, I did not say any agency." Ziva said, slipping out of the door and into the ajar conference room door a few feet down the hall. Her father was not there, but Tony was sitting with his hands folded. "Tony."
"You're leaving Mossad." He said. It was not a question, it was a statement.
"Eli is letting me go?" she breathed. Tony looked up and met her eyes.
"With his blessing." He said. She opened her mouth to explain, to ask him not to run the other direction, but he beat her to the punch. "I convinced him he would want me as a son in law." Ziva's right eyebrow arched so high on her forehead Tony thought it might disappear into her hairline.
"I did not tell you because I did not want to force a…conversation. We have had the conversation. I quit because I want to be with you for as long as you will have me and that will be difficult if I am dead." She looked at him with a smile. "And we are not going to discuss it further, because I am afraid you might cry."
Tony's grin practically split his face. She really was the perfect girl for him. "For the record, David, you'll be the one dying to get rid of me."
She smirked at him. "Probably, since Gibbs made me promise not to kill you." Tony reached out and closed his hand around her wrist to pull her onto his lap, but her face changed so quickly it stopped him. "I just met Jeanne."
"Your father told me she was here." He eyed Ziva. "You didn't kill her did you?"
"No," Ziva said, shaking her head and smiling. "I liked her."
Tony pretended to choke and mocked the beginning stages of someone passing out and falling from their chair. "Did I hear you correctly, David?"
"We understand one another, Tony." He looked uncomfortable. "Because of our fathers, not you." she said rolling her eyes. "I did not mention that. I thought she should hear it from you."
Tony nodded. "Normally, I would try and weasel my way out of this, spinning it to make me look good." Ziva laughed.
"Good luck with that."
"I need to tell her the truth." Tony said. And he did. To close out that chapter, and move forward with Ziva, he had to tell Jeanne all of the truths. Ziva nodded slowly and squeezed his hand. He pulled her down onto the chair and had his lips inches from hers when there was a sharp knock at the door. Ziva stood ramrod straight and opened it, the door blocking Tony's chair from the knocker's view, just in case.
"Ziva!" The man exclaimed. "I heard you were back. I guess the obnoxious American boyfriend was a rumor then. Trying to make me jealous?" Before Ziva could say anything, Tony appeared in his usual position partially behind her, the way they always stood.
"Hiya!" he said with a grin usually reserved for overzealous Metro detectives and Agent Sacks. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of NCIS. Or if you prefer, the obnoxious American boyfriend."
"Michael Rivkin." The Israeli said, appraising Tony. Tony's grin changed a bit; Ziva had told him about Michael.
"The scary Mossad ex. I guess I'm your replacement."
"This is karma for killing people or pranking McGee." Ziva murmured.
"Tony?" came Jeanne's voice.
"Definitely pranking McGee." Tony whispered in Ziva's ear.
