Chapter Nine-Women
Tony awoke to the sleeping form of Lucia beside him. He could not wait until this assignment was over.
Ziva had called him no more than six hours ago and practically ripped his heart out of his chest. He hated having to say no to her, but it had to be said. They couldn't keep talking while he was undercover like they had been. Way too risky.
He wanted to, more than anything. He would rather wake up to the dark, thick curls of Ziva's hair and her deep brown eyes than Lucia's pin straight hair and bright green eyes.
He sighed melodramatically to himself, rolled over onto his side, and kissed the top of Lucia's head lightly. He figured if he wanted to get out of this, he might as well face the music and be his usual charming self.
"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered in her ear. He saw her smile with her perfect, surgically whitened teeth and kiss him on the cheek.
"You need to shower," she murmured and smiled again. All he could picture while seeing her smile at him was Ziva. God, this might just be the death of him.
"Wanna help?" he asked with raised eyebrows and a mischievous smile.
She agreed enthusiastically and they headed towards the bathroom.
Ziva awoke to a soggy pillow and McGee's face two centimeters from her own.
"God, Ziva. Isn't light sleeping part of Mossad training or somthing? Get up," he practically hissed.
"Jeez, so sorry McGee," she snapped sarcastically. He glared back at her. "Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the head this morning."
"Bed, Ziva. The head is the restroom," he corrected her.
"Eh, same difference. Why so cranky?"
"Someone kept me up most of the night."
"Really? You looked like you were soundly asleep."
"I was, until about 3 AM until that someone called Tony and was arguing with him. Then that someone didn't think that I needed any sleep."
"Really? You know what it's like, Tim, to have the love of your life sleeping around with some amazingly beautiful and perfect woman and not be able to do anything about it? It sucks. It just downright sucks."
"You, of all people, are the last person I would suspect to act like a lovesick teenager," he hissed, then proceeded out the door.
Ziva remained in shock of what he had just said. A lovesick teenager? Please. She was not an over-dramatic, over-hormonal, over-bitchy...oh my God, I am.
She didn't mean it. When it came to Tony, she honestly didn't know what to do with herself. She lost control. It was amazing, and at the same time it kind of sucked.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she was startled by a knock on her door.
"Tim, you are the last person I want to talk to right now!" she yelled, unaware that the man standing behind the door was not, in fact, Tim.
"It isn't Tim, Ziva," Gibbs' voice said. "Can you let me in?"
Ziva obliged and did as he said. "What can I help you with, Boss?" she asked politely, her way of apologizing to him about yelling at him.
"I think we need to talk," he said, taking a seat on her bed; she followed and sat next to him.
"About what? Oh God, I'm not being fired, am I?" she asked panicky. I'm in Italy and my boss is wearing that so-sorry-but-i-have-bad-news look. How can I get a flight home, I'm in freaking Italy!
"No, of course not." Ziva let out a breath of relief she hadn't realized she was holding. "But we still have to talk. About Tony."
"What about him? Is he all right?"
"He's fine, physically at least. But I know that emotionally, neither you or him are fine."
"What do you mean?"
"You are falling apart. This is exactly the reason I disapprove of relationships with coworkers. I'm not trying to be harsh about it, but you need to shape up. I know, it won't be easy. But believe me, Tony wants nothing to do with Lucia. He would much rather have you in his arms."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because I know Tony. He's not that good at hiding his feelings. Enough to fool Lucia, yes. But not me. Or you, for that matter. You're letting jealousy cloud your instincts."
"It's not exactly simple to just get past it."
"No, it isn't. But you need to. He'll only be doing this for a minimum of another week, up to two more weeks. It really is no big deal, Ziva. Now get ready, we have a big day ahead of us."
Once Gibbs left she did as he said, slowly and methodically. Only another week? What are they hoping to accomplish, catching her? She highly doubted they would succeed. But this wasn't Mossad. They got the job done, no matter how sloppily. Which can be good and bad.
While Lucia was in the bathroom, Tony did as he was supposed to with the food that was freshly delivered from room service. Ham omelets. For once, something somewhat American. As much as he loved pasta, too much of it was making him sick. He pulled the tiny, edible tracking device out of his pocket and strategically placed it in one of the omelets. He then grabbed one for himself and started eating it.
"Smells delicious," Lucia commented, picking up the omelet he wasn't eating. The one with the tracking device.
"It is," he responded, in English, his mouth full of egg and ham. His heart started to beat erratically out of nerves; he prayed to God the plan would work okay. The last thing he needed was his cover blown.
Thankfully, ten minutes later, both omelets were gone, as well as Lucia. She said she had some "business to attend to". As soon as she left, his cell phone rang. Jenny.
"All systems go?" she asked.
"Yup," he answered, and then the line went dead.
