This one is kind of short but I think it works better that way.

: )


Chapter Eleven

Tony felt like he was being torn in two very separate directions – though, in reality, he was resting comfortably on the edge of his desk.

On the left, the team had a new case, and an interesting one at that. It seemed that a foreign intelligence agency was somehow able to plant a bug in the apartment of two highly trained federal agents. One of whom is related to the director of said intelligence agency.

Crazy, right?

On the right, Tony's girlfriend, the one who's had a pretty bad six months, got chewed out by her estranged father last night. You know, the person responsible for those god-awful six months. Then, just after that, she found out that he was spying on her and wants her to return to her country of origin. It was only six thousand miles away.

Even crazier.

Part of him was dying to play Special Agent. Part of him needed to play boyfriend. He settled on some strange and completely unprofessional cross of the two. His normal self?

He tried to snap himself back into the real world – his life did, however, seem to be more cinematic these days. He looked towards Ziva. She was only a foot or so away from him, leaning on her own desk, pretending to listen to McGee's rant on how that little device had been sending every sound of their apartment to whoever was listening. To Eli Dah-vid.

She had on that face. The one that you could shrug off and say well, hey, she only got four hours of sleep last night but that really signaled that she was once again broken down – and almost beyond repair. Not quite though. He would give himself and the rest of the team and Rachel, who was part of the rest of the team now, more credit than that. We can rebuild her. We have the technology. She seriously belonged in The Six Million Dollar Man.

He was getting distracted again. He caught Gibbs eyeing them both up and down. He had to focus. Gibbs would only let them stay if he thought that at least one of them was semi-functional.

"So, Probie," Tony asked, he was too tired to try and be convincing enough to pull out a McNickname so, he settled on the old standby, "Are you saying there is local, active surveillance going on or is this just being fed to Tel Aviv?"

"I can't really tell." he admitted, poor old Timmy knew he was letting a number of people down with that statement, "It's hard to trace but, my guess is that it's a direct line to Israel. That's my guess, anyway."

"Gut," Gibbs corrected, speaking for the first time in almost an hour. Evidently, he had taken a break from studying his team. "That's your gut." He sprung out of his chair and cut between Tony and Ziva. He moved so fast that he almost spilt his coffee on Tony. "That's your gut," he repeated, jogging up the stairs, "and it's mine, too."


Gibbs wasn't interested in being told to wait so he swiftly strode by the Director's secretary. This required immediate attention. He didn't have time to be told that Director Vance was busy.

He didn't hear the young woman start to object until he had the door swung open and was halfway inside Leon's office. He didn't really like her. He usually didn't like any of the Director's secretaries. Well, except Cynthia, she wasn't half bad.

He shut the door behind him just as she began her approach. Perhaps, her desk should be in front of the door. Even that probably wouldn't stop him.

He watched the Director put down the file he was reading and then, slowly remove his glasses. He didn't look like he had been expecting Gibbs' arrival. Nor, did he look anymore irritated by him barging into his office than usual. Perhaps, he hadn't spoken to Director Dah-vid.

"What can I do for you this morning, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs turned his head at him just a bit. Was this an act? He waited just a moment to see if Leon would confess to knowing anything about what his team was currently investigating. The Director just stared at him. He was simply waiting for Gibbs to drop his latest bomb.

Jethro took a few steps forward and put on his best accusatory tone. "Have you heard from Eli Dah-vid lately?" he asked. He narrowed his eyes. It was the signature Gibbs look. The one that said, my team is in trouble and I will rip you to shreds if I find out you had anything to with it.

"Not in regards to you or your team," Vance answered. He stood up, placing his hands firmly on his desk and then leaned forward just a bit. "Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. There was just a bit of apprehension and skepticism in his tone.

"A bug was found in Ziva's apartment last night," Gibbs said, he chose not to give Vance the entire story just yet. Though, he had checked. NCIS did not have anything close to a fraternization policy. Not that he completely agreed with that but, this was a special circumstance. They were a special circumstance.

"And you think Mossad is to blame?"

"Who else, Leon?" Gibbs began to raise his voice.

Vance turned towards the windows and peered outside for a moment. He knew Gibbs was right. Unfortunately, Agent Gibbs was usually right.

Once Ziva had sent her resignation letter to Mossad, he had accepted her as an agent on the grounds of her becoming a United States citizen. She had asked him to respect her privacy and refrain from talking about her to Eli. He had, of course, agreed. Vance, however, hadn't realized what a challenge that would be. She came up in every conversation they had, no matter if it was personal or strictly business. Eli and Leon were old friends. They had been since Amsterdam and Leon owed Eli a lot for the success of that mission. But, Ziva was one of his employees and a good one. He had to respect the rules of employee privacy. Eli would have to find another way to find out about his daughter – his only living child. Leon Vance knew that he would. There was no question in that.

Despite how tight-lipped Vance had chosen to be on the Ziva subject, he still had to keep Eli, Mossad and Israel as a working ally and a friendly one at that. Baseless accusations were not the way to accomplish that.

He turned back to Gibbs and stared at him for a moment. Gibbs knew he was trying to see if he was missing something – if he was keeping something from him.

"We can't just go around accusing Mossad of things."

"I'm not accusing Mossad," Gibbs said, raising a brow.

"Eli is the Director. They're one in the same."

"McGee will find you some proof, then." Gibbs took another sip of his coffee and moved towards the door.

"But, Gibbs," the Director interrupted, "I will remind Eli and Mossad that surveillance on U.S. soil without U.S. knowledge is not looked highly upon especially when it involves a U.S. federal agent. It may even be illegal."

Gibbs smiled and then turned and exited the office. Leon could pretend that working with him was a pain or, that he didn't like him but, Gibbs knew that that wasn't really the truth. It was far from it.


She should be nervous. With everything that she had just found out, Rachel should have been nervous as she sat in her polygraph test. The strange thing was, though, she wasn't nervous at all. It was like this whole surveillance thing had given her some type of mission. She now had a purpose. She had a purpose and with that came the strangest sense of calm.

Maybe it was because the focus was off of her. Tony was more concerned about Ziva and Ziva was lost somewhere else in her own headspace. Rachel had decided that she, the little sister, was going to step up and use this to show her worth. Plus, if she could help Ziva get rid of Eli then maybe she could free herself a bit from Eric. It would make her feel strong and powerful, again.

"Please state your full name for the record."

"Rachel Katherine Williams."

"Please state your current age."

"Twenty–two."

"Where did you work before NCIS?"

"The Central Intelligence Agency."

"Did your brother die in Iraq?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever committed a federal crime?"

"No."

"In your opinion, have you ever inhibited the national security of your country?"

"No."

The questions continued in much of the same fashion for the next hour. In her first polygraph, the one she had taken before beginning work for the CIA – while she was still at Georgetown – Rachel had spent the entire test feeling sick. She thought that they were going to interpret some truth she said as a lie. It became her biggest fear. She had dreaded the bi-annual checks. They would make her sick to her stomach.

This had been so different.

After the polygraph, Rachel went straight to the shooting range. She was feeling better than ever. In just a matter of moments she would be in the bullpen, working with her team to help her best friend.

An Agent greeted her in the range and watched as she put her glasses on, checked the magazine, loaded the gun again and then aimed at the target. She was instructed to take a few straight shots – one at the temple, one at the chest and one to wound the assailant, diffuse the threat, but not kill him.

She did each with ease. Rachel then took a couple side shots before they moved onto moving targets.

She had to admit that she was enjoying herself – maybe a little too much. She had always enjoyed spending time in the shooting range. She was in full control. It had always been just her and the target. Shooting was something she was good at. It was something she had been practicing.

She fired the last round out of her gun and then set it down on the table. She took the glasses off and then turned to her inspector. His face showed just a little bit of shock.

"Probationary Agent Williams, you are quite the shot."

"Thanks."


Tony watched Gibbs enter the Director's office. A break in the action. He turned towards Ziva. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her head was down, aimed towards the floor. It was like she was searching for answers in the carpet. He was losing her. Last night, it had seemed to him like she was surviving, at least. But, now, her head was falling out of the game. He was really going to lose her soon.

"That it, McGee?" he asked.

"Uh… yeah, for now, anyway." Tim said. He put the remote to the TV down and then turned back to Ziva. "I'm really sorry, Ziva."

"Rule number six, McGee," she whispered, "And you are doing all that you can."

He nodded and then mumbled something about Abby's lab. He picked the small bug up and headed out of the bullpen as fast as he could.

And Gibbs thought that it was Tony and Ziva he had to worry about. At this rate, the team would be completely incapacitated before lunch. Hopefully, Rachel would offer something.

Now alone, Tony moved closer to Ziva. He stood in front of her, their bodies almost touching. He would not let her shutdown. They would figure this out together. She looked up at him, let his eyes meet hers and then looked back down. He grabbed her hand and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Come on," he said.

He pulled her towards the elevator. She resisted so he tugged on her hand a little harder – still, no movement.

She just didn't have it in her to move. She had done a good job of faking unconsciousness last night. In reality though, she had spent the majority of the four hours that Tony had assumed she'd slept, holding onto him for dear life. Ziva feared that if she closed her eyes, she would wake up and this would all be coming to a dreadful end. Eli would appear and rip Tony from her grasp without warning. It had, more or less, happened before. The only difference was, now, she didn't think she could survive without him.

He turned back to her and gently took her other hand; he laced his fingers through her own and gave her hand a squeeze. It was enough to get her going again. With a small nod, she reluctantly agreed and followed him to the elevator.

Once inside, he let the doors close and slapped an unknown button. Tony waited for the doors to close before hitting the emergency stop button. As the elevator came to a screeching halt, he pulled her into his chest and locked his arms around her shoulders.

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

"What would I say?" she asked, her voice breaking.

He sighed before relinquishing an, "I don't know."

Tony pulled her closer, believing that if he could mold them into one person, no one would ever be able to harm Ziva or take her away from him. For a minute, he wondered if she was uncomfortable with his almost excessive clinginess. He was possibly making her more unsettled than she already was. But, when he loosened his arms and dropped them to just hang around her waist, she snaked her own arms out from against his chest and held onto him. Realizing that she needed his closeness right now, that it was important to her, Tony wrapped one arm around Ziva's shoulders and used the other hand to run up and down her hair.

After a few silent moments, Ziva lifted her head and stared at him. "You must think that I am over reacting," she said.

"Why would I think that?" He asked. Tony used the pads of his thumbs to stop the trickle of black mascara that was slowly beginning to travel down her cheeks from her bloodshot eyes.

"We are not in any imminent physical danger. It's merely our privacy that has been violated."

"Don't do this," he said. He shook his head. "You know that I realize the gravity of what is happening. You know I know that this is much more than a violation of privacy." He cupped her cheeks in both hands. "I know how much this bothers you."

She stared at him for a moment. Sometimes, she just couldn't comprehend how much he understood her. She shouldn't forget that it worked both ways. She knew him better than she knew herself. It was only logical that it was the same for him. Still, it never ceased to amaze her.

"His reach is endless," she said. "I feel like someone could come out of nowhere and in the blink of an eye, I would be on a chartered El Al flight back to Israel."

"That would be kidnapping."

She laughed, another one of those sad, sarcastic sounds. She pulled out from around him and placed her hands on her hips before beginning to pace the small area. "I don't think that would stop him, not to mention I am sure he could somehow get around it."

He put his hand on his forehead and sighed. She was thinking about this too much. "Well, I won't let you out of my sight."

She nodded, seemingly accepting his statement but continued to pace. She muttered to herself in what Tony thought was a mixture of Hebrew and Spanish. She always mixed her languages when she was stressed. He was experiencing another one of those times when he desperately wished that he could hear her thoughts. It would make things so much easier.

Ziva stopped pacing after she reached the elevator door for the fifth time. Tony thought that she was going to flip the emergency switch and get them moving again but, instead, she placed her hand on the stainless steal door and rested her head on the cool metal. She took a few deep breaths before standing up and turning to face him.

"You will not let me out of your sight?" she confirmed.

He shook his head. His Ziva alarm was going off like crazy. He wanted to touch her. He needed to hold her. But, he sensed there was more coming and stayed rooted to his spot a few feet away.

"So we find out exactly who is listening, whether it be my father or some amateur team in a Maryland apartment and then go from there." She was standing straighter now. It was like she had suddenly decided that she wasn't going to let any of this push her around anymore. He hoped she wouldn't stay this way. Don't jump to the wrong conclusions, one of the reasons he loved Ziva was for her strength – her resilience. He just didn't want her to wall herself up again. They'd gotten so far.

"Okay."

"And then maybe, without my knowledge, you will fly to Israel and do who knows what…" The smile that spread across her lips traveled all the way up to her eyes. It was the first time he'd seen her smile like that in more than twenty-four hours.

"Sneaking around my ninja," he sighed, Tony moved from his spot. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder before turning them so that they both faced the doors. "That'll be difficult."

Tony flipped the emergency stop button and set the elevator back in motion. He stole a quick kiss from her lips before the doors opened. He could feel the smile spread again as he did.


Rachel leaned forward and pressed the up arrow again. Did NCIS make it a habit of not having working elevators? She'd been standing here for a good five minutes. She'd tried to take the door to the stairs that was just feet away but it seemed that her access card hadn't been activated yet. So, she waited.

She leaned against the stainless steel door and pressed her ear to the surface. Was that voices she heard inside? It almost sounded like pacing. She hoped that there wasn't anyone stuck in there. Getting stuck in an elevator was the worst. Aside from…

"Rachel."

Her head whipped around at the sound of her name. It was like she had gotten caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs held the door to the stairwell open with his foot. He leaned on the side of the wall and stared at her for a moment before moving his finger, indicating for her to follow him. She did and they started up the stairs.

"I think…uh…the elevator's broken. I was standing there for a good five minutes and it never came. Should we call someone?" She was babbling.

His face turned to a small smile. "It's not broken." He said.

She paused and pointed back down the stairs, "I could have sworn I heard someone in there…talking, pacing?"

"Probably did."

They came to the top of the stairs and Gibbs opened the door for her. She thought she was missing some part of the conversation. Why didn't Gibbs care that someone was stuck in the elevator? She thought about pressing more but it was her first day on the job and they did have more important matters to deal with. Someone else would have to notice the broken elevator.

"Did you pass everything?" he asked. They turned the corner, which brought them into the squadroom. She followed Gibbs towards the team's empty bullpen.

"I did," she nodded.

"Good." Gibbs walked over to his desk and handed her a stack of files. He pointed to the new desk that sat next to McGee's. The partition that used to sit next to Tim's desk had been moved to accommodate another one. There was even a computer on it. She was really a member of the team now.

"It's a list of known Mossad operatives who have entered the country in the last year. See if you can link any one of them to Ziva's apartment."

Rachel nodded. She opened the file and then turned on her computer. She told herself to stay calm. She didn't need to look overly excited about checking names.

But, she was.

As she began to enter the first name into the computer, the elevator dinged and opened to deposit both Tony and Ziva into the squadroom. They strode over to the bullpen and took their respective seats.

"Probie a real Probie now?" Tony asked.

"Yup." Gibbs answered.

"Congratulations, Rach," Ziva said.
She looked better than she had when Rachel saw her briefly before her polygraph. Then, she had looked like a statue. There had been no emotion on her face. She had merely stared at a spot on the wall, nodded at the appropriate moments and kept close, very close to Tony. But, now, she had a little bit of life back in her eyes. There was a fight in her again.

"Thanks," Rachel said. And then, confused by their arrival from the elevator, she asked, "How did you guys use the elevator? It was stuck when I tried…"

"Ah . . . Probie," Tony smiled. He got up from his desk and came to lean over hers. "You'll learn that the elevator is the MCRT's favorite conference room. We weren't stuck."

Rachel scratched her head and then looked at Ziva. She just smiled and then looked back at her computer. Gibbs hadn't seemed bothered by the conversation…she was really confused now. "I don't get it," she said slowly.

Tony patted her on the back and walked back to his desk. "In time, Probie, in time." He said.

For a few moments, the team worked in silence. Rachel had no idea what Tony, Ziva and Gibbs were doing but they appeared to be doing something. She tried to concentrate on her own work but that proved to be a little challenging. She was worried about Ziva, she was a little nervous – this being her first hour on the job and she was trying really hard not to come unglued. Because this was awesome – she was an NCIS agent. She was an agent. She worked for NCIS. She was no longer one of Eric Williams' employees. No, she was not.

Rachel continued to research the list of names that Gibbs had given her. She checked all of their known alias. Some, most, had been in the country more than once. Most had been doing things that were suspicious. None, though, had been doing things that were suspicious in regards to Ziva. None.

The phone on Gibbs' desk rang and he picked it up before it rang a second time. Immediately, all six other eyes in the bullpen were on him. The person on the other line didn't get a greeting but, merely, a "yeah?" Rachel watched as he nodded twice and then said "meet us at the car." He hung up the phone and then turned back to his team.

"Gear up. We got a location."

"Boss, we taking Rachel?" Tony asked.

"Get her stuff." Gibbs said before walking out from behind his desk. He moved to leave the team's bullpen but stopped at the corner of Ziva's desk. She had her backpack already on her shoulder and was on her way to following him out. She was practically on his heels. "You stay," he said.

"Gibbs!" she contested.

He looked at her, opened his eyes a little wider as if to ask if she really wanted to go there. She let her bag fall to the ground but stayed standing. She placed her hands on her hips. Evidently, she did want to go there. "I'm fine," she said. "Really."

They stood in silence for a moment. All of them. Rachel thought that Gibbs was studying Ziva. He was trying to see whether or not she was lying. Whether she could actually handle this.
Finally, Gibbs took a deep breath and said, "I really don't want to regret this."

Ziva couldn't hide the smile on her face and almost gleefully picked up her gear and followed him out of the bullpen. She walked a little taller than she had that morning.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs called over his shoulder as Tony began to follow his girlfriend and boss to the elevator, "Williams needs her gun."

"Right!" Tony turned around and ran back to Rachel, who was awkwardly standing alone in the bullpen. "Sorry about that, Rach."

She shrugged her shoulders. She didn't really care right now. He picked a key up off her desk and unlocked the second drawer down on the left. Inside, he pulled out a standard issue federal firearm, a holster, a badge and an NCIS hat. He then turned around and opened the bottom file cabinet. Tony turned back to glance at Rachel. She was mesmerized. He pulled out a black backpack, one that was identical to the one slung over his shoulder. He handed it to her.

"You can thank Ziva later," he said. "She personally packed this for you the other day. It has all the standard stuff in it but other than that its empty because, of course, none of your stuff is in it."

She nodded and then slung it over her shoulder. He then proceeded to hand her the gun, which he had placed in the holster for her. Tony clipped the badge to her waist and threw the hat on her head.

He patted her on the shoulder. "Now, you're really one of us!"


It was probably the rush and the adrenaline of the situation but Ziva swore that the gun sounded just a little bit louder as she clicked it out of her holster. She didn't know why she bothered to even take it out. It wasn't like she was going to get any action, anyway. In the elevator, while they were alone, Gibbs had told her that she was only allowed to come with them if she promised to do two things. One: take a back seat and, two: not shoot anyone.

She had scoffed at his comment. He'd then stared at her, one of those piercing glares. She relented.

So, here she stood, behind McGee, who was behind Tony. She was third in line. Third. It was almost an insult. Behind McGee! Almost. Gibbs had seen her condition the night before. She supposed that he had reason to worry after that. But, she was fine now.

Fine.

The team waited for Tony to kick in the door. That was usually her job – it was her favorite part. Abby had traced the signal of the bug to a room at the Americana Hotel in Arlington, Va. It seemed that the feed wasn't going straight to Eli. She was curious what amateur team they would find behind the door.

Tony's foot made contact with the door and all of sudden they were on the move. Ziva followed McGee into the room, her hand held the gun just a little tighter than usual.

Only it wasn't a Mossad team that greeted her when she finally got a look at the people who had caused her so much unease in the past eighteen hours. Far from it, actually. It wasn't a Mossad team – it wasn't even a team.

Tony had his gun pointed at a man half his size – one wearing thick rimmed glasses and suspenders like she'd only seen in the movies Tony had made her watch from the eighties. He was shaking and his arms were barely able to stand in surrender above his head.

Ziva wanted, more than anything, to run up to him and grab him by the collar. She wanted to invoke so much fear in this man that he would tell her exactly how he had ended up in this situation. She took a ragged breath. It wouldn't take that much. She could see that. She wouldn't want to get near cruel and unusual punishment or coercion, for that matter.

Ziva slowly began to step backwards. She couldn't be in here. There were pictures of her on his computer. This small man had been following her? She didn't understand. Him? There were too many people in the small room. She took another step backward before ending up in the hallway. Couldn't this problem just go away? She wanted to go back to peaceful life with Tony.

Ziva turned and hastily headed for the stairs. She told herself not to run. There was no need to. But, she couldn't help it. Something felt heavy in her hands. She looked down. She hadn't put her gun back. She tried to slip it into the holster but it fell to the ground. She watched it fall and bounce away from her.

"Ziva, I got it."

Rachel stepped in front of her and picked the weapon off of the ground. She slipped the safety back on before leaning her back against the emergency exit and opening the stairwell to them.

She offered the gun back to Ziva before lowering herself onto a step. She motioned for Ziva to join her.

"I'm fine." Ziva said. She leaned against the side of the wall, ignoring Rachel's invitation.

"Clearly." Rachel wasn't usually this forward. Then, again, she was still high on the badge attached to her hip and the hat on her head.

"We should go back before –"

"They're not going to leave."

"I'm fine, Rachel."

"And like, I know that my opinion means next to nothing right now but, clearly, Ziva, you're not." She turned so that she was no longer facing away from her.

They were at an impasse – neither one of them was willing to give in to the other right now. It was one of their more sister-like moments. Accepting help from your little sister is not easy and Ziva was no exception to that. The circumstances and everything that surrounded it only made it more complicated.

But, she was so close to breaking. The fewer secrets she and Rachel harbored, the better. But, wasn't that the case with anyone?

"Not here, Rachel," Ziva said, "But, I think we do need to talk."

Rachel nodded and then got up from the step. They certainly did need to talk, that was for sure.


A/N: El Al is obviously Israel's airline. I read that, in the past, Mossad has been known to use chartered El Al flights for some of its operations, etc.. I don't know if this still happens.

And, also, I'm no tech whiz so, bear with me on the technicalities of a "bug."

Please Review!