Short, but thre wasn't exactly much to work with in this episode. So I hope with the material I had it's enough to satisfy until I have a chance to sit down an look at the next episode.
Disclaimer: If I owned the show certaint things would have turned out much differently (Jenny would be alive, for example), ergo, I don't own it.
Ziva's POV
She'd known Tony would make fun of him, and the way he was dressed. Personally, she just believed Tony was a little jealous that Tim could pull a look off that would look utterly ridiculous on him. After all, the classic smart guy got the girl in the end more often than the immature player. A fact that would not have looked over by Tony.
But she'd wish Abby had kept her mouth shut. She didn't know how much the goth knew but she did know that the more she got frustrated, the more random things would pour out of her mouth. So when she asked if they'd like to make out, Ziva ducked her head, glad that Gibbs have left. He was the only one who could truly read her reactions, and he would know in a second. If he didn't already know.
However, it was the first time he'd seen the pipe. He usually did all his writing alone, in the mornings on Sundays. When he wrote and she either practiced the piano or found other ways to occupy herself like she had this morning.
McGee's POV
He knew Gibbs was mad at him. For that matter, when wasn't he. But he just didn't know what to do about it. It seemed he was always screwing up, always doing something to deserve the wrath of Gibbs. It had been Abby's idea for him to come up, but telling him that wouldn't solve anything. He'd known he should have called.
So as he sat in Abby's empty lab, she'd gone to visit Ducky for a few minutes, he rested his head in his hands. He was hopeless, years had gone by and he still didn't fell like an NCIS field agent, he wasn't sure if he ever would.
A hand rested on his shoulder, long slender fingers squeezed gently in a manner he'd grown accustomed to. He reached up to take Ziva's hand in his. "Where's Gibbs?"
"He is with the Director, I think. And Tony,"Anticipating his next question because his job was on the line if they got called out as much as hers. "he is run out to grab lunch while Gibbs is busy. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"
He looked at her, took a deep breath. "You don't think I made the wrong career choice, do you?"
"Are you wishing you were not an NCIS agent?" Her brows furrowed. He could practically see her thinking, and her thoughts would be of disbelief, because at times he loved his job.
"No." He sounded surprised almost, "I'm just not sure if being a field agent was what I should have wanted."
"Timothy." She got down so that their eyes were level, made sure that he was listening. "If you were not supposed to be doing this, you would have quit by now. You are one of the best agents I have encountered, that is including everyone in mossad and the many other agencies I have had the pleasure of dealing with." She said "pleasure" like it was vulgar, disgusting, and he didn't really want to know.
"You're just saying that." Tim rolled his eyes.
She smacked his arm lightly, glaring at him. "Do you believe I would lie to you?" She waited until he shook his head. "Exaggerate, sure, but I wouldn't lie to you." She stood straight before speaking again. "You are good, not better than Gibbs, but good. And Gibbs only gets mad because he is frustrated with the case." With that, Abby walked in, and Ziva picked up the random cell phone part and pretended like she didn't know what she was doing. Because sometimes it was just fun to annoy him. Neither of them knew that Abby was watching them, or that Tony was with her.
Ziva's POV
The case was solved, and Tim had left with Abby to lend her some "after hours" help with Habitat for Humanity. That was fine by her, she could read people well, and while Abby might love Tim like she did everyone else, she was simply protective of him. It was understandable, there was a history there, it didn't take much to see that. And this was Abby after all.
Still, for some reason she had trouble sleeping that night, though there would be work in the morning. She just couldn't seem to will herself unconscious like she always did. And she couldn't understand why. Instead of dwelling on it, she got up and turned on her computer.
Silently she scanned through her emails and replied to those she had been putting off. About half an hour later, a chat box popped up.
McGee: I thought you'd be asleep.
David: Too wired, I guess. Did you just get back from that thing with Abby?
McGee: No, I got back about an hour ago, couldn't sleep either.
David:Well... seeing as neither of us is doing much sleeping, want to come over and not sleep together?
McGee:Sounds like a plan, be over in fifteen.
David:Bye
McGee:Bye Ziva
She rolled her eyes when she realized quite how close she'd come to typing "I love you." Since when did she feel like that? Sure, she cared about him, that didn't mean she loved him. Did it? That was a question for another day, when she was awake enough to really look at the whole picture.
