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Prompt #8: Desks - Gibbs sometimes wondered why he ever let them sit across from one another - and why his chair always faced them.

Words: 669


Leroy Jethro Gibbs headed one of the best teams in NCIS. They closed cases, and they closed them up tighter than a miser's wallet.

But they were also one of the most dysfunctional teams in the whole agency.

And boy, did he know it.

One of the chief pains in his ass were the two most impressive agents he had. Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David. Partners. Coworkers.

Annoying.

Gibbs looked up from his reading and peered over the tops of his glasses, watching his Senior Field Agent and his Probationary Agent exchange heated verbal barbs like schoolchildren. He rolled his eyes. Can't they ever grow up?

With Kate it was different. Kate kept Tony in line, and their banter was like listening to siblings argue. He'd attempt a flirt, she'd shoot him down with a witty comeback, and he'd spend a couple seconds speechlessly trying to reply. They cared about each other, but on a purely familial level. Tony knew he had no shot with her, and Kate let him know every single day.

But Ziva and Tony were an entirely different radio program. There was frustration, and attraction, and a hell of a lot of sexual tension between them. They argued like kids on the playground - kids with crushes.

Ziva intimidated Tony. Gibbs could tell that from day one. From her huge knife to the way she could take down a roomful of guards, there was nothing weak or hesitant about this woman. She was completely different from Kate, a former Secret Service agent but undoubtedly a woman of limited fighting potential. Ziva was muscle and stealth and darkness, an assassin of the highest order, trained to be a great Mossad operative.

Tony annoyed Ziva. Gibbs could tell that right off the bat. From the constant jokes to the way he shamelessly flirted with every legal female adult in sight, there was nothing serious or professional about this man. He was completely different from the other operatives Ziva was used to working with, men who maintained a level of professionalism even when they were cutting down enemies. Tony was movie references and flippancy and comedy, a playboy of the greatest level, trained to be a great NCIS investigator.

Oil and water, fire and ice. Opposites, and through a sick twist of Fate's pigtails, seated across ten feet of office space and drab blue carpeting.

Gibbs had always attributed his immense reservoir of patience to those two. He also blamed them for the strength of his head-slap. Well, mostly DiNozzo, but he'd been known to deck his Ziver one or two. Their bickering was only compounded when they were left alone; he stepped away for one minute, then he would return and they'd be arguing about something completely different and with a vaguely sexual overtone.

Time and time again Gibbs wondered why he didn't just change the seating arrangements. Stick Ziva in McGee's desk or put McGee where Tony sat (no way was he moving from his own desk - perks of being the boss). Seperate them as far as dimensionally possible in their tiny bullpen.

But Tony also was intrigued by his partner. Ziva was likewise intrigued by Tony. Attraction fairly sizzled between them, and it wasn't only the physical kind. Something deeper was touched, something that had turned two otherwise incompatible persons into one of the best teams Gibbs had seen. Seperating them wouldn't help, it would hinder. Vance's mole hunt had seen to that. So for now, they stayed in their seats.

Despite all his gripings, Gibbs knew he'd never move them. Tony and Ziva needed face-to-face confrontation. It kept them on their toes.

If only they didn't fight like children with crushes.

Well, it could always be worse, he reasoned.

They could be married.


Gibbs thoughts. Let me know what you think.