Friday, 28 June 2013

Two days after Bonnie Stewart hired them, the team sat in Ziva's dining room with papers and notepads spread out between them and three laptops running at capacity. Their early success in finding Rosie, another of Eddie Hertzog's exes, had not been a harbinger for how the rest of the case would run. Without all the tools they were used to having at their disposal, everything was taking much longer to do and information was harder to come by.

They had split the task into three: Ziva had been talking to Bonnie's friends and co-workers to find out if and when they remembered seeing Eddie hanging around, or had been approached by him themselves. McGee was searching through records (including some Ziva and Tony knew he was probably not supposed to be accessing as a private citizen) to try to build a background picture of Eddie, from exes to finances, assets, friends and employment history. And Tony was using that information to try to nail down Eddie's schedule and compare it to Bonnie's, and work out when he was most likely to contact her or harass her.

So far they had managed to confirm Bonnie's claims that Eddie hung around outside her work and made inappropriate calls to her friends and family. They knew that Bonnie and Rosie were not the only women he had stalked, and that he had restraining orders taken out against him by two other women in the past, but both had lapsed. They had his driver's license, license plate, a rough daily schedule, a list of his friends and information on his impressive Internet porn subscriptions. They knew what route he took to his job as a financial planner, and they knew that when he was 22 he'd been arrested, charged, fined and made to complete an anger management program for slapping a waitress in the face at a Hooters restaurant. What they needed now was a plan for collecting enough evidence to get him arrested, charged and jailed for stalking Bonnie Stewart.

"I hate to say it," McGee started.

"Then don't," Tony implored.

McGee ignored him. "The best way to catch this guy is going to be through following him ourselves."

Tony and Ziva groaned in unison.

"We work for ourselves now," Tony protested. "We make our own rules. And one rule should be no stakeouts."

"We can't make a rule against stakeouts," McGee argued.

"Can't we just go talk to him and put the fear of God into him?" Tony tried, but he was fighting a loosing battle.

"He does not strike me as the kind of person who is easily intimidated," Ziva said. "And I hate stakeouts too, but I think it is our best starting point. We cannot just haul him in for questioning."

"What if we just break into his house?" Tony suggested. "If he's stalking her, he's got to have evidence of that somewhere."

"I am not saying we cannot do that," Ziva said.

McGee frowned. "Wait, what?"

"But we need to follow him to make sure he will not come home and find us there."

"We can't break into his house," McGee said sternly. "Are you crazy? We can't even do that as federal agents without a warrant."

"We won't get caught, McGee," Tony argued. "And Ziva can break in without breaking a lock. He'll never know."

"He won't know until we use stolen evidence to build a case against him," McGee explained patiently, even though his friends were entirely aware of the fact. "And then the evidence will be inadmissible."

"So we won't take it from the premises," Tony said, goading McGee for the fun of it now. "Besides, what's the difference between breaking into his house and breaking into whatever database you're in right now without permission."

McGee bristled and turned his laptop screen away from the others. "This isn't illegal, exactly," he said.

Tony didn't buy it. "No different," he said. "We need to break in."

McGee blinked at him in disbelief. "Are you crazy?" he repeated. "Really, I want to know."

"No, I'm a wild card," Tony said.

Ziva held up her hands between them. "Okay, okay. We cannot break in. We can probably be a little creative with how we enter his apartment…"

"Ziva," McGee said warningly.

"…but we will need to start with following him," she went on. She looked at Tony. "We will let you choose which shift you want."

Tony sighed and resigned himself to the plan. "Morning."

"Okay," McGee said, sounding more comfortable. "Make sure you take a camera."

They went back to work then until the doorbell rang. Ziva looked up at the clock. It was past seven, so she supposed it could be Abby coming to check in and say hello. She pushed her chair back from the table, but McGee got to his feet as well and stepped towards the hallway.

"I got it," he said, looking nervous. "It's for me."

"Who's coming to see you at this hour?" Tony wanted to know.

McGee hesitated, and Tony and Ziva looked at each other. They had the same thought and looked back at McGee.

"Delilah?" they asked in unison.

McGee sighed and his shoulders rolled forward in defeat. "Can you both please just try to be normal?" he begged. "I like her, and I don't want her to run away because you start cleaning knives at the table," he gestured at Ziva, "and you make bad jokes and leer at her."

"Hey!" Tony protested, getting to his feet. "I do not make bad jokes!"

Ziva touched Tony's arm, pulling him back from going into a full flight of, well, Tony-ness. She looked at McGee with her most innocent face. "I think it is wonderful that you changed your mind about introducing us," she said. "I promise we will make her feel welcome."

"Is your young lady friend going to join us for dinner, Tim?" Tony asked.

"You've got to be kidding," McGee returned. "We're going out. She's just picking me up." He disappeared down the hallway towards the door, but Tony called after him.

"You know, in my day it was customary for the man to pick the woman up on a date." He paused and waited for a reply, but when none was forthcoming he looked at Ziva with unrestrained glee. "Okay, think fast. What are we going to do to him?"

Ziva smiled, because she was tempted to go down the prank route right now. But she was also feeling melancholic. After so much pain in her life lately, she just wanted to see a happy ending. And if McGee really liked Delilah, then she wanted the happy ending to be his. Because honestly, she didn't know if she would ever get one for herself.

"Let's just be nice," she suggested.

Tony considered that. "Yeah, that'll really put him off," he said thoughtfully, completely misunderstanding what Ziva was getting at.

"No, I mean genuinely nice," she said. "He likes her. Let him have a happy ending."

Tony regarded her closely and some of the humor left his eyes. "I thought you didn't believe in happy endings."

She gave him a bittersweet smile, and couldn't help but think of the hurt she'd seen on his face when he had found out about what she had done in Israel with Adam. "I want to," she said thickly.

Tony kept watching her closely with soft eyes that made her throat tighten. He stepped over to her so his chest was less than a foot from hers, making her tip her head back so she could keep eye contact. The familiar and much-loved smell of him filled her head and her heart started racing like it always did when he got close to her like this. But she didn't have a clue what he was going to do, not even when he reached out a finger to entwine with hers.

"Ziva, look," he started in a low voice. "What's happened between us lately, I just want—" But the rest of what he was going to say was swallowed by McGee and Delilah walking into the kitchen. Ziva wanted to kick them and kiss them at the same time.

"Okay, they've promised me they'll be good," McGee told Delilah. "Well, Ziva did, anyway."

Tony and Ziva quickly parted and put smiles on their faces, and came forward to greet the striking brunette with green eyes McGee was presenting.

"Guys, this is Delilah," McGee introduced. "Delilah, meet Tony and Ziva. My former co-workers. And current co-workers."

Ziva stepped forward to shake Delilah's hand. "It is very nice to meet you," she said. "Tim has told us, well, not a lot about you. But what he has said has been very complimentary."

Delilah chuckled. "That's nice to know. He's told me a lot more about you both."

"Probably not as complimentary," Tony said, and shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you finally."

"You too. You know, I have to tell you, I think it's great that you're doing this."

Tony and Ziva shared a look that confirmed neither of them understood what she was talking about, and then looked back at her.

"What's that?" Tony asked.

Delilah gestured between the three of them, and around the dining room. "This. Sticking together."

"Oh," Ziva said, catching on.

"We know no other way," Tony told her with a smile.

Ziva raised her eyebrows at the unexpected poetry coming from Tony's mouth. He gave her a knowing wink and a smile that made her heart begin to race again.

"Can you two please continue to be nice and refrain from telling lies if I leave you all together for a few minutes?" McGee asked.

"Of course," Tony and Ziva replied.

McGee paused, clearly rethinking his decision to leave. But Delilah gave his wrist a quick squeeze.

"Relax," she told him. "I can hold my own."

McGee nodded and then gave the other two warning looks before he turned and jogged towards the staircase.

"Would you like a drink?" Tony offered Delilah.

"Oh, thanks, but no. We're about to head out to dinner."

"Ah. Off to Paris in a private jet?"

"Doubt it," Delilah said with a smile. "Unless you guys bought a private jet for your business."

Tony's head swung around to look at Ziva, and she jumped at being caught staring at him. "Ziva? Did we end up getting that private jet I wanted?"

"Not yet," she replied.

Tony nodded and looked at her curiously. He had definitely caught her staring. "What?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head, and then looked away. "You just sounded…poetic."

A hint of a warm but teasing smile tugged at his lips. "You don't draw a line between me and poetic?"

She sent him a look of apology. "Not usually. Not like that."

Tony sat down at the table and gathered together some of the documents that they'd spread out in a half-hearted attempt to clean up. "I'm extremely offended," he told her lightly.

Ziva looked at Delilah and rolled her eyes at Tony's joke before sitting down with him. "No, you are not."

Tony looked up and between them, but mainly focused on Ziva. "You know, I'm enjoying this moment Ms David."

"Why?"

"Because you are the one who's all about books," he said. "And yet, you don't know that what I said is a quote from a book."

Ziva frowned with interest and gave him a small smile. "Mr DiNozzo, are you quoting a book at me?"

Tony's smile quickly stretched across his face at the shared memory before he reeled it in again. "No. It's actually a sonnet by Pablo Neruda."

Ziva felt her smile grow as she allowed herself to be drawn in further. "Really?"

Tony leaned forward with his elbows on the table and dipped his head towards her. They had both more or less forgotten about their audience. "I don't remember all of it," he admitted. "But it's something like I love you without knowing how or why or from where; I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this." He paused as Ziva hung on his words, and then broke into another smile. "And then it's something about having the same hands and eyes and falling asleep."

Ziva continued to stare at him as the recital hit her dead centre in the heart. But when she realized he was watching her for a reaction, she quickly broke eye contact, swept her hair behind her ear and pulled the nearest laptop closer to her. She heard Tony chuckle.

"Oh, she goes straight to the Internet to confirm," he said lightly.

She glanced up to see him trying to share a smile with Delilah, and her cheeks grew warm. "I like it," she told him softly. "I want to read the rest of it."

Tony's eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he turned back to Delilah. "So, how did you and McGee meet?" he asked her. "He didn't really go into detail."

"Comic convention," Delilah told him.

"Ohhh," Tony said as if it all made sense.

"Tony," Ziva said warningly. He swung his head back to look at her again. Don't, she mouthed at him.

I'm not, he mouthed back, and once again returned his attention to Delilah. "We met McGee when a case took us to the circus," he told her. "He was an apprentice lion tamer at the time, and one of those big cats had gone crazy and taken off the head of a sailor on shore leave."

"Tony!" Ziva said with exasperation.

But Delilah just laughed. "Wow. An apprentice lion tamer," she repeated, playing along. "You'd have to be pretty brave to do that job."

"He wasn't allowed near the animals yet," Tony told her, and turned to Ziva again. "What have you found there, sweetcheeks?"

Ziva turned the laptop screen so he could see it too. "You were right," she said, and scanned the sonnet again. "Where I does not exist, nor you; so close that your hand on my chest is my hand; so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

"Told you," he said with a wink. "I have a head for quotes."

She gave him a smile that felt more affectionate than she'd intended for it to be. "Yes. You do."

He gave her a soft smile. "You know, I think more sonnets should feature nap time."

"They are truly underrated."

McGee's footsteps thudded up the hallway and a moment later he appeared in the doorway to the dining room. "Everything still okay?"

"Sure," Delilah said. "Tony's just reciting love sonnets."

McGee looked at Tony, puzzled. Tony clicked his tongue and winked.

"Yeah, I'm actually not that surprised," McGee admitted. "We're going to take off. You two okay with the rest of this?" He gestured at the documents on the table.

"It's under control," Tony said. "Go out. Have fun, you crazy kids."

"Nice to meet you," Delilah said again, and then she and McGee left them alone.

They waited until they'd heard the front door close before speaking again.

"She seems okay," Tony said.

"Yes. But we always think that about his girlfriends, and then they always turn out to be using him."

Tony pursed his lips. "Okay. Sometimes we get it wrong."

Ziva smiled and started gathering the rest of the papers on the table. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked, feeling shy about it for some reason. "Or are you heading home?"

"Dinner sounds good," he said. "If you don't mind me staying."

Ziva smiled and shook her head. "Of course not, Tony. You are welcome here whenever you want. You have a bedroom here," she pointed out.

"And you are good company," he said. "Let's cook."

…

They threw together a quick dinner of penne with pesto and olives. The conversation was light and safe and mostly centered on McGee and Delilah, and on the small repairs and renovations that Ziva thought needed to be made to the house. The main bathroom upstairs that Tony and McGee had to share whenever they were both staying had cracked tiles around the bath, and the exhaust fan needed servicing. The basement office was cold even in the warmth of summer, which was fine for now but it would need to be fixed by fall. There were a few loose floorboards in the hallway downstairs, and Ziva hated the tiles in the laundry. Nor was she sold on the configuration of the basement office. It was too cramped, even though there was a lot of space down there. And she was convinced that the kitchen needed a complete renovation. It wasn't Tony's house, so it didn't really matter what he thought about it. But he told her anyway.

"Ziva, does it really need a renovation?" he asked. "Or are you just looking for something to focus your attention on?"

She looked at him like she couldn't believe he was questioning it, and then crossed to the far end of the counter to point to a hole in the kickboard. "That needs to be replaced," she said. "Rodents and insects can get in."

"So, just replace the kickboard," he said obviously, and started spooning pasta into bowls for them. "No need to redo the entire kitchen."

"But it is ugly," she insisted.

Tony glanced around the room. Yeah, it was a little dated. But he didn't think it was ugly. "How much does a kitchen renovation cost? Fifteen grand?"

"I could do it for less," she said. "If we do some of the work ourselves."

"We?" he repeated, balking at the suggestion.

She grinned and rejoined him by the stove. "Scared of getting dirty?"

"No," he assured her. "I remember I got very dirty helping to paint this pace a couple of weeks ago. I'm just worried about losing a thumb. Or an arm."

"Then you do not have to use the saw," she said.

He gave her a dubious look, and then handed her a bowl of pasta. They walked back through the kitchen into the dining room and sat down for a very casual dinner.

"This isn't even my house," he told her. "I just mooch off you sometimes."

Ziva frowned. "What is mooch?"

"Live here for free, eat all your food, use your electricity, water and Internet, and hog your TV."

"Oh." She pushed pasta around her bowl. "I said you could. That both of you could while things are tight. And technically you own about ten per cent of the house each."

Tony snorted. That was kind of true. When Ziva told then she was buying the house and said they should use it to run the business out of, Tony and McGee had both chipped in ten grand. Buying their way into the business, they'd said. Tony still had a little money in reserve to live off. McGee had a little more. But all three of them had to hope this private investigation gig would start paying the bills soon. Tony was already considering giving up the lease on his apartment and moving to Ziva's full time. Perhaps putting money into this house hadn't been the best idea financially for him right now. But morally, he was completely fine with it.

"I call dibs on the living room, then," he said. "You know, if you really want to redo the kitchen you just need to wait until Gibbs gets back. His cabin is just about done. He'll need a new project."

She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes that Tony felt too. "When he comes back," she repeated. "What if he never comes back?"

"He will," Tony told her, although he had no way of being sure about it. And Ziva knew it.

"How do you know?" she asked him.

Tony shrugged. "Because he knows no other way," he said, hoping to get another smile out of her. And he did, but it was small. And she didn't look at all convinced or reassured.

"Tony—"

"Ziva, listen," he said, and put his hand over hers. "Gibbs isn't going to abandon us for good. That's not his way."

"I know he would not," she replied. "That is not what I am worried about, Tony. None of us is there to watch his back. That is what worries me."

In truth, it was what worried Tony as well. But he didn't want to tell her that. He didn't want to give her idea the legs she was looking for. Because he knew Ziva. He knew that she had probably been thinking about going searching for Gibbs on her own ever since they'd found out he'd 'gone on assignment'. And more importantly, he knew that when Ziva went searching on her own, things went bad. Really bad. Death, questionable kills and broken laws bad. They'd only just gotten through an incredibly rough patch sparked by her single-minded desire for revenge, and Tony was not willing to go through it again. He saw his role now as being Ziva's barrier to doing something stupid out of worry. He had to talk her down.

"Ziva, Vance is not going to let Gibbs go out there without back up," he told her. "He's not."

Ziva seemed to waver, as if she wanted to believe him instead of what her gut told her. "Ducky does not know where he is," she pointed out softly. "He has not heard anything. Nor has Abby or Fornell or—"

"You've never heard of black ops?" he challenged gently.

Ziva sighed and dropped her eyes to his hand on hers. It was a sign to him that this particular bout of burgeoning craziness had left her.

"It's going to be okay," he assured her. "And when he comes back, he can build you some new kitchen cabinetry."

Ziva smiled and squeezed his hand. "Okay. I will hold off on buying a new kitchen."

"Good." He paused. "Although I do think you need a waffle iron."

She gave him a bigger, more genuine smile and their grip on each other's hands broke. "I will pick one up tomorrow. But you have to make them. And clean the iron."

"No, that's McGee's job."

"Perhaps you will get one for your birthday," she said and then sat back abruptly. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and suddenly pushed her chair back and got to her feet.

Tony watched her with surprise. "What happened?" he asked.

Ziva passed behind him and touched his shoulder briefly as she left the room. "I will be right back."

Tony twisted around to watch her go, and for a few seconds he wondered what the hell was going on in her head. He quickly decided that in this instance he had no hope of working it out, and so turned back to his dinner and worked on trying to eat most of it before she returned and wanted to talk more.

She came back just as he was finishing his last mouthful. She held a business-sized envelope in her hand and there was an almost shy smile on her lips as she sat back down at the table. He arched an eyebrow at her in question, and Ziva pushed her nearly full bowl of pasta away. He idly wondered if that meant it was up for grabs.

"I got you something," she said, successfully wrestling his attention back from the bowl of carbs. "It is actually for your birthday."

A smile jumped to his face. "My birthday? It's not for another week or so."

Ziva nodded. "Yes, I know. But the nature of the gift means that you must get it early." She pushed the envelope over to him, but before he could pick it up she put her hand down on top of it. "I must apologize that it is not wrapped."

Tony had to chuckle. "I don't really care about bows."

She lifted her hand and nodded at him to continue. The envelope wasn't sealed, so he just stuck two fingers in and plucked out the card stock inside. It was two tickets to…something.

"Fantasia?" he read out.

"The Capitol Symphony Orchestra is playing the score from Fantasia in the amphitheatre next weekend," she told him. "They will play the movie on the big screen above them. Hopefully the weather will hold. It should be a nice night."

He looked up at her as a smile stretched his face. "This is great, Ziva."

"Do you like it?" she checked.

"Yes," he said enthusiastically. "I had no idea they were doing this. I love it."

She visibly relaxed, and he wondered why she'd doubted herself. "Good."

He held up both tickets. "You're coming with me, right?"

Ziva gave him a smile that warmed his bones and made his spine tingle. "Of course," she said softly. "If you would like."

"Of course," he repeated.

"Happy birthday, Tony."

He held her gaze for a moment as he thought over the date they had ahead of them, if that was really what it was. And he hoped so. Even if they didn't call it one, he honestly hoped that was what it would be. They had been through a rough patch, but he was done with all that. He wanted them to be closer again, and this was a good start.

"Yeah," he said. "I think it will be."

Thursday, 17 December 2015

When Kavita arrived at NCIS, she was a wreck. Her hair was mussed her eyes were red and puffy, and tears ran down her cheeks. A security guard brought her up to the bullpen, and Ziva got up from her desk quickly to greet her. Before she knew it, Kavita had grabbed her in a hug and rested her wet face against her shoulder.

"Oh my God, Ziva!" she sobbed. "I can't believe this is happening."

Ziva let the hug go on for a little bit longer than she should have, or was professional. "I am sorry, Kavita," she said gently, and then disentangled herself.

Kavita allowed her to put space between them, but kept holding on to Ziva's arm. "I just spoke to her yesterday morning," she said. "I don't understand how this happened."

"We will find out," Ziva promised her.

McGee got up from his desk then and approached the two of them. "Kavita, I'm really sorry."

"Tim!" she sobbed, and let go of Ziva to hug McGee. He looked at Ziva over her shoulder, and Ziva gave him a sad smile. Kavita had been a great friend to Bonnie two years ago. Not only a friend, but Bonnie's roommate. Both Ziva and McGee knew how it felt to lose a friend who had been more like family.

Kavita let go of McGee and swiped tears from her cheeks. It made little impact; they were replaced by new tears almost instantly. "I don't know what to do," she told them.

"We need you to help us," Ziva told her, trying to give her something to focus on. "If you and Bonnie were still as close as you used to be, then what you tell us about her life now will help us find out how and why this happened."

Kavita nodded and wiped her cheeks again. "I'll do whatever," she said. "I owe her. And her mom. I just came from spending the night with her. She's…God, you guys. I don't know how she's going to get through this."

McGee put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We'll do what we can to help her," he assured her. "Ziva's going to take you upstairs so you can talk, okay?"

"Sure," she said, and let Ziva put her hand on her back to turn her around again and point her towards the stairs. "Where's Tony?" she asked.

"He is downstairs," Ziva told her.

Kavita looked up at her with a small, inquisitive frown. "I didn't know you guys all came back here. You don't have your business still?"

"Not anymore," Ziva said. "It was important for us to come back."

Kavita nodded thoughtfully as they started up the stairs. "I'm glad you're all still together."

Ziva smiled but didn't say anything. Not when Kavita was no longer together with her best friend.

They walked the rest of the way to the conference room in silence, and as Kavita got settled Ziva poured her a cup of tea. She put the mug and a box of tissues on the table in front of her, and then took a seat at the head of the table beside her.

"Are you okay?" Kavita suddenly asked her.

"Hmm?" Ziva asked.

Kavita looked suddenly sympathetic towards her, and a little hesitant. "I mean…all that stuff you went through with Eddie."

A stab of panic sliced through Ziva's chest, but it was gone before it could spread any further. Ziva pushed the memory away and gave Kavita a soft, reassuring smile. "Yes, thank you. I am fine."

Kavita reached for a tissue and pressed it to her eyes. "I'm sorry to ask," she said. "I should have gotten in touch with you before now—"

"Kavita," Ziva broke in. "Do not worry yourself about it. I am fine, we know Eddie is still in prison. Let's focus on how Bonnie was doing." She waited until Kavita nodded before commencing her official line of questioning. "You said that the last time you spoke was yesterday morning?"

"I think about 10 o'clock," Kavita said. "It was our daily check in."

"How was her mood?"

"She was happy. Just normal, happy Bonnie."

"Did she mention any plans for the day?" Ziva asked, thinking about Bonnie's stomach contents.

Kavita nodded and sniffed. "Um, yeah. She was meeting this guy for lunch. Tom."

Ziva perked up. "Who is Tom?"

"He was one of the other agents she went through training with," Kavita said. "Did you know she was in training to be an NCIS agent?"

Ziva smiled and nodded, even as she felt herself deflate a little. "Yes. What brought that on?"

Kavita broke into a smile for the first time that day. "You," she said with a small laugh. "After everything you guys did last time, giving Bonnie her life back, putting Eddie away. She decided that she wanted to do the same thing. Help people who needed it. That time with Eddie was horrible for her, but it was a turning point."

Ziva wasn't sure how she felt about that. She was proud, for sure, and if she had found out about Bonnie's plans before she died she would have been entirely encouraging. But Bonnie had died. Despite just completing training to become a federal agent, she hadn't been able to defend herself. Ziva didn't know whether that was because her killer had just overwhelmed her, or because Bonnie had never been equipped to deal with an attack. If it was the latter, then Ziva couldn't help but feel a little bit responsible for playing a part in making her think that she could.

This job was not for everyone.

But Kavita didn't need to know any of that. She was clearly supportive of Bonnie's choice, and since Ziva wanted to be as well, she gave Kavita a compassionate smile.

"Good for her," she said. "A lot of people find it difficult to turn a situation like that to their advantage."

"She's always been pretty resourceful," Kavita said.

Ziva got them back on track. "So, she met another trainee agent named Tom. Do you know his surname?"

Kavita dragged a hand through her hair and then tucked wild strands behind her ear. "I don't know."

Ziva let it go. They would be able to find out. "Had she been seeing anyone recently?"

"No," Kavita said. "She's only had one or two boyfriends since Eddie. Short term. No one for a couple of months. She was pretty focused on her training."

"Can you think of anyone who had given her any trouble lately?"

"No. It sounded like she got along well with the other agents. She really enjoyed her time with them." She gave Ziva a quick smile. "I met them all a few times, and they just all seemed really supportive of each other."

"You two weren't roommates anymore?" Ziva guessed.

"Not for about a year," she replied. "She'd gone down to North Carolina for training. Only got back a couple of weeks ago and she was staying with her mom. She just found out she was being sent to the Norfolk base, so she was going to move there in the new year."

Ziva nodded thoughtfully. There wasn't a whole lot that she'd gotten from the conversation, aside from a lead to follow up with Bonnie's new friend Tom. Still, there was something niggling at the back of Ziva's brain that was making her uneasy, and it wouldn't hurt to bring it up now.

She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Kavita, we know that Eddie is still in prison. McGee checked. But has he contacted Bonnie since he was put away?"

Kavita shook her head. "No."

"Are you sure?" Ziva asked. "Maybe someone else contacted her, but she had a feeling it was really him?"

"No," Kavita said again. "She would have told me. And she never did." She frowned. "You don't think Eddie somehow did this, do you? That's not possible."

Ziva gave her a reassuring smile. "No, we just have to cover our bases," she told her. But while Kavita seemed to buy it, Ziva wasn't so sure that she believed her own words.

A/N: Like I said in chapter one, I'm not watching this season of the show, so I have no idea whether this version of Delilah is anything like the real version. I'm not trying to make them the same, so yes, I'm writing willfully out of character. Flame me if you must, but I figure that she's hardly a main character so it can't really matter that much. If this enrages you, maybe try to chill out a bit. If you find any of the other characters out of character to who they were at the end of season 10, then that's my bad for being a lazy writer. Or we just have different ideas of who the characters are. If you're left in the minority and like the chapter, thanks very much. You're super, and I love that sweater on you.