Pivotal Moments

Chapter 14 continues to follow the events of Legend Part 1: Tony confronts Ziva with his discoveries about Morocco.

A/N This story has been very Ziva-centric, but this chapter needed to be from Tony's POV. Remember that in my version, she mentioned to him during Hide and Seek that she was in a mess with a questionable Mossad agent, and he encouraged her to do something about it. Her refusal to do so has led to his recent suspicions. And yes, there's a little more personal tension here than is technically justified by the episode, but I enjoy it this way and hopefully you will too!

_____________________________________________________________________

April 2009: Washington DC

Tony stepped into Autopsy, careful to shuffle his shoes a bit to give Ducky some warning. He played along as the older man elicited his Gibbs impression, trying to suppress the worry nagging at the back of his mind over Ziva's recent disappearances from the office. He wasn't sure how deeply involved she was with the agent she'd told him about, but he was sure it was too deep.

"Tell me why you came down here to see me," Ducky finally directed.

"Ziva," Tony said simply, beginning to sign the papers Ducky set in front of him.

"Ah, personal not professional," Ducky said knowingly.

"It's not what you think," Tony replied sharply.

"I'm not thinking anything," the older man replied innocently. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking she's worried about something..." He looked to the side, unwilling to reveal her confidences. "She seems distracted."

"Yes, well, we all get distracted. Keep signing."

He looked down at the pages. "She ever talk to you about what she did when she went back to Israel?"

"No," Ducky told him, then offered, "She was involved in an undercover operation in Morocco."

"Yeah, I know all about that," Tony dismissed the news. She'd told him about the lounge act once, an extension of a story about karaoke. Something inside him clenched at the memory of the photos of her as a young woman, of the laughter they'd shared in the telling of those stories.

"She almost died."

Tony looked up, shocked. "Really. I didn't know about that."

"There was a glimpse of her on some newsreel footage after the bomb blast. If she's distracted--"

Tony cut him off. "You know, I'm probably just overreacting." He threw down the pen and headed out of Autopsy.

In the elevator, Tony found his hand shaking as he reached to push a button and so he hit the off switch instead. She'd almost died. He'd almost come back from Colombia to find her gone. Hell, if she'd died he didn't know if he'd have made it back from Colombia. How could she not have told him? The thought bounced around his brain, unrelenting.

He hit the elevator back into motion, pressed the floor for MTAC. He needed to see it for himself.

***

Watching the footage wasn't as bad as he'd feared; she was conscious, though clearly disoriented, moving around. Tony didn't know until he saw her that his biggest fear had been the sight of her unconscious, prone, mangled. But it still twisted his stomach to know he could have lost her, to know she didn't tell him.

The third time he watched the reel, the man beside her registered, the man trying to talk to her, to hold her hand. Clearly not a stranger, probably part of her cover. Tony wasn't sure how, but his gut told him that Ziva couldn't have been around many agents while undercover, and if this was one she'd been working with, he was most likely the man she'd become involved with.

Stilling his body with a slow breath, Tony set off for the lab, determined to find out who the man was, to do anything in his power to prevent a day where something worse than this happened to Ziva.

***

Late that evening, Tony watched Ziva across the bullpen, armed with the knowledge that the Michael who'd been with her in Morocco was the same man she'd been making excuses to see, undoubtedly the same man whose involvement with Ziva was putting her career and possibly her life in jeopardy. Sitting at her desk she seemed nonchalant, but when she'd sat down upon her return from her last errand, she hadn't removed her guns. Tony knew from experience that to Ziva, these were security blankets. She only wore them indoors when something was making her feel unsafe.

She got up suddenly and headed out.

Tony ran to follow her into the elevator.

"Thanks for holding that," he said, though she hadn't.

"You're welcome, Tony," she said reflexively.

Finally standing here beside her, he had no idea what to say. "Never thought I'd say this but I almost miss McGee. Almost. What about you? Miss him?"

"Yes, I do." She didn't look at him.

"Miss anyone else? Gibbs?" Now he was under control, deliberate.

"Some."

"What about your friend from Tel Aviv?" he hazarded.

"Tony."

"I'm just saying."

"Yes, I miss Michael too." And damn it, she'd said the name. Final confirmation that the pieces fit together the way Tony thought.

"When he called the other day I thought he must have been here."

"No. Sadly Michael is not here," Ziva answered slowly.

The elevator doors opened and expelled them into the lobby of the building. Tony continued to follow Ziva as they headed through the front doors.

"How did you kids meet?" Tony asked, his tone still light.

"We worked together."

"In Morocco?"

She looked sharply at him. "Yes."

"Closely." His voice had lowered quickly.

She glared. "He was my partner."

They were outside now, headed toward the parking structure through a mostly deserted area of compound. Tony stopped where they were and Ziva reluctantly stilled beside him, looking up at him.

"What is it, Tony?" she asked sharply.

His eyes looked past her as he tried to find words to tell her. "Ducky told me today that you nearly died in Morocco."

She jerked back as if he'd slapped her. "I see."

"How could you not tell me?" Tony demanded.

Ziva sighed, shook her head, then looked up at him. "Tony, you already blamed yourself for Jenny's death. I could not have you blame yourself for my injuries, too." Her gaze was filled with concern that Tony couldn't deny.

She was right, he realized, thinking back. For it to be his responsibility would have been too much. He met her gaze more calmly now that he knew she hid from him not out of deceit but for his own sake. "Michael was in the ZNN footage with you."

Her eyed widened in surprise. "I don't remember that. I don't remember anything from the explosion until I woke up in the hospital."

Tony nodded, accepting her at her word. "He seemed awfully concerned about you."

Now she bristled. "We were not involved then, not personally."

"But after that, after he'd failed to protect you?" Tony glanced around as he realized his voice was raising, was glad to see they were alone.

Ziva sighed, knowing this would be difficult to explain to Tony. "Sometimes you're hurt, and you just need—to be touched, to touch someone and know that you are still alive."

His eyes bored into her. "Why him?"

She evaded him, looking toward the garage. "He was my partner."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Rules different in Mossad?"

Ziva returned his glare now, irritated. "Yes, actually."

"So you usually sleep with your partners."

She sighed, pursed her lips, knowing he would not take it well. "It is not unusual."

"But never me." It came out petulant and he regretted it.

"Tony." She stopped, hoping he wouldn't press, but he waited silently. "That sort of sex—it's casual. It means nothing except in the moment. When I stared sleeping with Michael, that's all it was. I could not have that kind of sex with you."

He recoiled, misinterpreting, and she reached out a hand. "Tony, I meant..." Ziva wondered how it had come to this, that even in the midst of her career dissolving and Michael imploding, with her departure from the United States imminent, her partner's hurt feelings are taking precedence, are making her want to kiss him until he takes her meaning to heart.

She regrouped, trying to use words instead. "With you it would mean something. Too much. I could not walk away." She leaned in toward him to force his downcast eyes to meet hers, and suddenly the hurt on his face was transformed as he understood.

This was the same moment she was trying to describe seconds ago, where danger and tension led to sex. And they were just close enough now that her body was flushing with awareness of him. This was inevitable, she thought fleetingly, Tony's words from a year before, and it was enough to give Ziva the control to pull away.

Tony's eyes hardened again as the space between them increased. Ziva took two more steps back, toward her car, toward safety.

"He's the man you're worried about now, though?" Tony demanded, following her.

She returned his stare silently.

"I thought you were going to do something about him months ago," Tony said angrily, fueled by the conflicting hormones rushing through him as a result of the moment they had just avoided.

"I couldn't!" Ziva said, responding wrathfully for the same reason.

"Why not?" He cut himself off from asking if she loved Michael.

Ziva answered slowly but harshly, lowering her voice as someone approached from the garage. "Tony, this is mine to deal with. Believe me, things are complicated enough. I will not have you involved and risk this being your falldown as well."

"Downfall," Tony snarked before the word's meaning registered.

At his tone, Ziva turned on her heel and strode quickly away.

Tony was familiar enough with her body language to know better than to follow her. Instead he watched her, noting the way her right hand flirted over her gun as she passed a man on the path. Distraction did not begin to cover it, he thought to himself. She was terrified.