Sorry it's a bit late, daughter had an ear infection.
Chapter 7
Abby was back to her old self the next day in the lab, a fact that only served to convince McGee that something hinky was going on.
Ziva appeared at the lab door – and stayed there, not daring to enter the room. "Can we borrow McGee for a while?" she asked politely.
"Sure," Abby smiled magnanimously. "He's all yours."
McGee started for the door noting that Abby did not accompany him nor Ziva did move to meet him. He quickened his pace across the no man's land between the two of them, his ears primed for the first sniper shot, scampering the last couple of steps just in case. Ziva gave Abby an exaggerated bow which Abby acknowledged with a gracious nod of her head.
McGee frowned. They were being nice to each other: too nice. Ominous music began to play in his head.
"Coming?" called Ziva as she pressed the elevator button.
McGee could feel Ziva's close to his in the confined space and somehow he found it harder to breath. She seemed more...proactive today, as had Abby. The ominous music increased its volume.
As the elevator reached the bullpen, Tony and Gibbs crowded in with them.
"Let's go," said Gibbs.
"Where?" McGee ventured.
"Running down the FBI list of probable dealers," said Gibbs emotionlessly as the elevator opened at the car park.
"Race you for shotgun," Tony challenged Ziva.
Ziva took two energetic steps to motivate Tony then fell into step with McGee. Once in the backseat, Ziva smiled at him again. His heart thumped dangerously hard against his ribs but he wasn't sure whether it was attraction or fear.
"You ah, get home OK last night," he tried conversationally.
"Yes, Abby gave me a lift."
"Really?" He was genuinely surprised.
"Yes we had an enlightening conversation after dinner."
He swallowed hard. "You did?"
"Oh yes." She smiled smugly.
McGee frowned: this could be very good or very bad.
Their first two ports of call yielded nothing but cagey, suspicious answers and dodgy men in dingy offices. As they pulled up outside the third address however, they caught sight of a familiar person entering the building.
"That's him," said Ziva excitedly.
McGee nodded. "Boss..."
"I heard," said Gibbs, carefully easing his door open. "Watch your six, everyone – they might be expecting us."
The two men inside the building, however, were clearly not expecting them and the entire arrest was over in moments. Tony and Gibbs handcuffed their prey while McGee and Ziva went about photographing and creating an inventory of the evidence.
"Ziva David," one of the men spat as Tony tightened his handcuffs.
Ziva stiffen.
"I will make sure news of this travels," he threatened in a guttural voice.
"Get him out of here, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, dragging the other perpetrator out of the building.
For a moment, there was nothing: just McGee and Ziva standing side by side watching the door shut behind the others.
"You OK?" McGee asked.
"Yes," she lied.
Suddenly McGee knew exactly what to do: he reached her with two strides and wrapped his arms around her. There felt her trembling, her face buried in his chest. He bent down to look at her and she turned her face up to meet him.
"I'm fine," she said quietly, lowering her face again.
McGee considered her statement. Certainly on the outside she was a picture of perfect composure but underneath he could feel the facade crumbling.
They stood in silence while Ziva calmed herself. Then she looked up at McGee with frightened eyes. "May I stay at your place tonight?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," she broke contact, reassembled her professional appearance and headed for the door.
The moment the final car door closed, Gibbs voice rang out clear and steady: "who was he?"
"A terrorist," Ziva replied. "No particular allegiances but known to my family – and my enemies."
"You're not staying at your house tonight." It was a simple statement of fact.
"It is already arranged."
McGee saw Gibbs' steely blue sizing him up in the rear vision mirror. The gut-o-meter was on the mark.
"Good," Gibbs approved.
