Title: Gotta Have You
Author: rekkidbraka
Rating: T
Pairings: Tony D. and Ziva D.
Category: Romance
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Spoilers: None
Summary: "Gray, quiet and tired and mean / Picking at a worried seam" -- The Weepies

-------------------- Gotta Have You ---------------------

Tony and Ziva continue bickering over whether their grandparents' possible romance but find themselves even more shocked when they learn of another more recent, even more secretive love affair between two people close to them.

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Because she was so engrossed in what she'd found in the large box she'd been rummaging through all afternoon, Ziva didn't even hear Tony enter their apartment or sneak up behind her. And when he leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on her neck, she jumped.

"Tony!" Ziva said, clearly startled. "I did not hear you come in. You frightened me." Tony's green eyes went wide with surprise.

"I frightened YOU?" he said, grinning broadly. "Ha HAH! YES! At LAST! I am the SNEAKER and YOU are the SNEAKEE!" Tony plopped down on the couch next to Ziva. He stuck out his tongue and laughed. "DiNozzo One, Ninja ZERO!" Ziva responded only with a wry smirk.

"You are a sneaker, Tony?" Ziva replied, continuing to sift through the contents of the box. "That explains the smell." Tony grimaced and sniffed his armpits.

"I was at the GYM, Sweet Cheeks," Tony said defensively, "Stayin' in shape for you. Check out these pecs. Like what'cha see? Hey, look at my new muscle." He flexed his right arm, bodybuilder-style. Ziva rolled her eyes. "C'mon," Tony pleaded, "feel it." Ziva reached over, fondling Tony's upper arm. "Ohhhh yeaaah... Ha HAH!" he laughed, smiling from ear to ear. "Who's packin' the BIG guns NOW, huh? HUH? Heh heh heh..."

"My big, strong furry bear," Ziva purred. "Apparently, you take after your Papa Tony. My grandmother's papers describe him as quite a physical specimen -- and not just when he was a young man." Tony's smile faded.

"What're you talkin' about? C'mon, Ziva, not THAT again!" Tony groaned, frowning. "A couple weeks ago we said we'd let all that go! Why're you bringin' it up now?"

"Actually, Tony, YOU said you were letting it go," Ziva countered. "I agreed to no such thing. And you ALSO said you were fine with it. In fact, YOU challenged me to prove that our grandparents might have been involved. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," Tony said, lying back on the couch. He closed his eyes. "But to be fair, I think I was also watching Purdue beat Ohio State. And I was mad as hell about that. And I was drunk. Really drunk. So drunk I don't even remember us having sex that night. Did we have sex that night? We had sex that night, right? Because why else would I wake up handcuffed to the bed like... that?" Tony frowned, raising an eyebrow at the memory of waking up naked in red fuzzy handcuffs, his "GO BUCKS" pennant flag between his teeth. Ziva had only come into the bedroom, snapped a quick picture of him and then headed out for her morning six-mile run, laughing out loud as she left the apartment.

"Be that as it may," Ziva continued, "I had my father send this box from Tel Aviv. It contains my grandmother's papers and keepsakes, which she left to me when she passed away just before I joined NCIS." Ziva's expression turned somber. "Savta was in good health... I still cannot understand why she died. One night she simply went to bed, fell asleep and never woke up. The doctors could not explain it. They could find no medical reason. But she was never quite the same after our trip to..." Ziva stopped herself, remembering the odd visit to Ohio she'd taken with her grandmother only a couple of years before she'd been sent to NCIS, the trip to the cemetery where she'd seen Tony from a distance as her grandmother spoke with him. "Well," she continued softly, "her final years were ... quiet." Ziva studied an old photo of her grandmother, Hannah, as a young woman. It was like looking at a black and white picture of herself. She recalled how Hannah had withdrawn somewhat after her American friend died. The old woman grieved him every day until her own death and Ziva wondered if she hadn't frankly willed herself to join him in Heaven.

Tony was staring at Ziva from his place on the couch.

"OK, fine," he said at last. "I won't say it COULDN'T have happened -- if you won't say it DID happen for sure. UNTIL we can prove it." Tony sat forward and rifled through the box. A dark red hardcover journal caught his eye and he plucked it from the papers and photos.

"Well, well, well..." Tony said, opening the journal carefully. His eyes scanned the neat, black-ink handwriting on the first page. "Let's see what we got HERE." He settled back onto the couch, ready for a good read. "July 2004," Tony read aloud, "My Bahamas junket turned out much differently than I had planned, even though I knew that I would be seeing..." He stopped and stared at the page.

"That what?" Ziva said brightly. "Come on, Tony, do not leave me dangling. And whose journal is that?" She knitted her brow, confused. "I have never been to the Bahamas."

"It's 'hanging,' Ziva..." Tony muttered, his face now stony as he read the words in the journal. His throat tightened. His breathing grew shallow. The story unfolding before him sent a jolt through his body. It couldn't be true. There was just no way.

He couldn't believe it was true.

He couldn't let himself believe it could be true.

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July 2004 -- Bahamas

Kate Todd felt somewhat guilty as she applied more sunblock to her shoulders and arms. After all, she was always giving Tony hell about how he didn't seem to care about his personal health. The way he avoided exercise like the plague, his horrendous eating habits, how he hit the sheets with anything in a skirt -- they were all subjects about which Kate regularly read Tony the riot act and, frankly, she enjoyed doing so. But now, here she was, sunning herself on a Bahamas beach in hopes of getting a nice tan. God, I'm shallow, Kate thought, setting the sunblock bottle down. Note to self, she mentally added. Never let DiNozzo get his hands on ANY pictures from this trip.

I'm ruining my skin, she thought, and possibly setting myself up for worse skin problems later in life. Kate sighed. You're a hypocrite, Todd, she silently told herself. But she'd spent so many long hours in the NCIS office... Oh, so what? She had two weeks all to herself -- no McGee asking her Probie questions ten times a day; no gruesome cases to solve; no Tony sneaking through her personal items or bragging about how he could relieve all her stress in just one night (if she knew what he meant -- and she always did); and no Gibbs barking at her to grab her gear. OK, so maybe she missed Gibbs. And Abby. And Ducky. And, yeah, McGee, too. But NOT Tony!

Kate reached for her bottle of sunblock so she could apply it to her legs, only to find it missing. Pulling down her sunglasses, she studied the area in the sand where she'd nestled the bottle next to her beach chair.

It was JUST there, she thought. What the hell? I'm not crazy. I know I put it right...

"SPF 30," a strong, flat, thickly-accented masculine voice intoned from behind her. This particular accent sent a cold chill down Kate's spine. It was unmistakable. "Now how do you expect to tan using such a product as this that keeps the sun from working its natural magic on your incredibly lovely skin... Caitlin?" Without turning around, Kate steeled herself for the confrontation she knew was coming. She felt the strange mix of fear coupled with excitement that always came whenever she saw him. And while she told herself she despised him and that she never wanted to see him again after everything he'd done to her, to her friends at NCIS, she knew she was a liar. She always wanted to see him again.

"You'll put my sunblock right back where you found it if you know what's good for you, you son of a bitch," Kate hissed, trying to control her breathing. Why did he have this effect on her? Damn him. And now here he was, looking at her in a bikini. Great.

"Since when have I ever known what is good for me?" The man didn't replace the sunblock. Instead, he slowly moved from where he'd been standing behind Kate to show himself to her. She silently thanked God for her mirrored sunglasses at that moment so he couldn't see her staring at his body, although she was sure he somehow knew she was doing exactly that. Because it was just what he wanted her to do. Nothing about her got past him, dammit. He looked incredible to her -- tall, lanky and muscled in all the right places. She loved his short, close-cropped hair, the angles of his face, how he always managed to sport the kind of sexy stubble that made most men just look like they needed a shave, those dark brown eyes of his that seemed to laugh at her. He had laughing eyes, dammit. His tanned skin let Kate know he'd been enjoying plenty of time on plenty of beaches, if not this particular one. Probably with plenty of women, she thought and then chastised herself for feeling jealous of him. Who cared what he did? His trim red swim trunks weren't too loose nor too tight, hugging his hips perfectly. Kate didn't want to look at him but she couldn't stop herself. As usual, he was taking control of the situation and she was letting him. Why was it always like this? It wasn't like this with any other man she'd ever known.

He sat on her beach chair, taking a place at her feet. Flashing a mischievous smile at her, he waved the bottle of sunblock teasingly.

"Your legs appear ... unprotected, Caitlin." His dark brown eyes traveled the length of her legs, then further up her body. She hurriedly crossed her arms over her breasts to shield them but it was too late. "May I be of assistance?" She watched as he squeezed a small bit of the white sunblock onto his long, tanned fingers, grinning at her. Why were his teeth perfect? And always so damn sparkly? That just wasn't right. At all.

"Lay those fingers on me," Kate said, seething with all the false anger she could force herself to muster, "and you'll be the one needing assistance. Like, when I put you in a full body cast." The man laughed out loud at this and Kate shivered. Secretly, the sound of his laughter always turned her on. She hated that. She also hated that, really, she wanted his hands on her -- her legs, her hips, her arms, everywhere.

"That will not happen," he said huskily, "because I know..." his fingers caressed Kate's strong calves and she couldn't keep from moaning slightly, "... that you do not want to hurt me ..." now he massaged the tender area behind Kate's knee with his thumb and she bit her lip, "... any more than I want to hurt you." The man's strong hands moved up to caress the inside of Kate's thighs. She gasped at his touch, shocked that he was so boldly making a move on her -- and more so that she wasn't even trying to resist. "And I would never..." he massaged her thighs harder, having now moved to her side, pressing his body against hers in the chair, "... hurt you, Caitlin." His face now just inches from hers, Kate had to force herself to keep from kissing him.

"I should... go back to my hotel room now," she stammered, unsure of what to do. He always made her nervous and unsteady. "It's... It's hot out here." The man smiled, staring at her with his smoky eyes.

"Yes," he agreed, "it has become quite... steamy. Perhaps a nice, cool shower would relax you." He got up from the chair, extending his hand to Kate. She looked at him for a moment, then took his hand. He pulled her gently to her feet. "Please allow me to escort you to your room," he said, his breath hot in her ear as he moved behind her, slipping his long arms around her slender waist. "It is not safe for a woman to travel alone. You can never be sure what dangerous sort of man might be lurking, waiting to take advantage... Caitlin."

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"Ari and Kate? ARI AND KATE?!!!" Tony couldn't control his anger. "No damn WAY! No WAY Kate was screwing around with your ... your BASTARD MURDERER BROTHER! He KILLED her! What the HELL?!!!" He grabbed the journal and hurled it across the living room, sending it careening off the wall. Ziva's dark eyes were wide with fear and, frankly, anger at hearing Tony's words about Ari.

"I KNOW that you HATE Ari, Tony, but he WAS my brother! My ... my ... BASTARD MURDERER BROTHER, as you call him!" She choked out her words, her breath coming in gasps. "I am as shocked as you that he apparently had an affair with Agent Todd and..."

"That's a DAMN LIE!" Tony yelled. "Ari's LYING! Kate NEVER slept with him! NEVER! I'll NEVER believe that!" He glared at Ziva in disbelief. "And you DO? My GOD, Ziva!!! You DO!!!" His green eyes flashed with the most intense anger Ziva had ever seen in Tony.

"You did not KNOW Ari as I did!" Ziva screamed back defensively. "He was NOT a cold-blooded KILLER! He was working undercover for Mossad as Michael was... I KNOW that he MUST have been! There can be NO OTHER..."

"RIVKIN AGAIN?!!!" Tony slammed his fist down on the dining table. "DAMMIT, ZIVA, I DON'T EVER WANNA HEAR HIS NAME IN OUR HOUSE, YOU UNDERSTAND ME? NOT EVER!!!" His face red with fury, Tony grabbed Ziva's arm, yanking her towards him. She found herself too stunned to react. Tony had never acted like this before, not with her. "And don't you ever... EVER..." he hissed "...tell me that Kate and Ari were lovers. Not now. Not ever." Pushing Ziva away, Tony stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Ziva massaged her arm and stood, alone, in the silence of the apartment. It took a few minutes before she seated herself on the sofa and let the tears stream freely down her face.

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July 2004 - Bahamas

Nobody can ever find out, Kate told herself. They wouldn't understand -- none of them would, not even McGee or Abby. Tony would hate her and for once he'd be on the right side of things. Ducky wouldn't be able to forgive her; to him this would be so hurtful after everything they'd been through, after what had happened to Gerald. And Gibbs... Kate rolled over, clutching her pillow as she stared into the dim light of the room. Gibbs would just... she didn't know, really. There would just be nothing left there and she knew she couldn't take that.

The thing was, she didn't understand what had just happened -- not completely. She just knew that he had seen her back to her hotel room. She'd let him inside. That was hours ago, when it was still daylight. Now it was night and here they were in her bed, completely exhausted from... everything she had fantasized about since the night she'd been unable to kill him that first time she'd met him, when he'd taken her hostage along with Ducky and Gerald. Those fantasies had left her feeling guilty; now she just felt absolutely satisfied. Confused, but satisfied. Kate had imagined that if anything ever happened between them it would be amazing but she hadn't been prepared for the reality of being with him. She was spent; but so was he. Never HEARD a guy snore like that, she thought, chuckling. Really put him down for the count, I guess.

She heard him groan in his sleep, felt his strong, warm arm around her slim waist. He unconsciously pulled her to him and the feel of his body against hers relaxed Kate.

"You cannot sleep, Caitlin?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. She felt his lips wet on her neck.

"No," she sighed. Rolling over to face her lover, Kate pressed seductively against him. He reacted as she knew he would and she smirked playfully. "Would you like to be... of assistance?" Raising an eyebrow tantalizingly at him, she pulled him into a heated, long kiss.

And throughout the rest of the night, as they made love again and again, Kate learned many things about Ari Haswari -- secrets she wasn't sure she could, or should, believe. But he swore to her that they were true and that someday, when his deep undercover Mossad mission ended and the terrorist cell he was 'training' was completely destroyed, all would be explained by his father. He would do whatever it took to make amends with her friend Gerald and the rest of her NCIS colleagues. Shooting that man had been a horrible mistake, he told her. He regretted it every day. At that time, he hadn't been certain he could trust anyone at NCIS; now he knew that he could trust her. But she had to trust him as well, just play along for now, keep pretending to hate him for the 'terrorist' he was. There would be a day when they could be together, he told Kate, and that was what sustained him through his darkest, loneliest hours. He would make everyone understand that it was all a ruse, just as she now knew. There were no other women, despite his bragging. He swore this to her and it touched Kate that Ari worried she thought he was cheating on her.

"I love you, Caitlin. I do. Please believe me," Ari whispered, his lips against hers. "I would never hurt you. Never. I would die for you before I would let anything happen to you."

"I love you, too, Ari," Kate whispered back, kissing him. "But don't go dying on me, OK? It would give Tony too much pleasure." They shared a tender laugh as Kate rested her head on Ari's shoulder, stroking his chest, before they both finally drifted off to sleep.

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Driving at breakneck speed in his vintage Mustang, Tony pounded his hands against the steering wheel. He had a hard time seeing the road as he wiped back tears.

Everything in his life was suddenly falling apart -- and just when he'd gotten it together.

His NCIS career was going great.

He'd found Ziva, his soulmate, at last. They were happy. At least they'd been happy.

And now all this.

His grandfather, Papa Tony. Ziva's grandmother. Lovers.

Maybe.

His partner, Kate, who Tony had loved like the sister he'd never had. And Ziva's brother, Ari, the terrorist assassin who murdered Kate while Tony stood by helplessly.

Lovers.

It was too much. Too much to process. He just needed to take a drive -- a nice, long, fast drive. Just let it all go for a while until he could think it through. Or start to even try to think it through.

Why? Tony thought, the neon streetlights racing past his windshield. Why me? Why NOW? Why...

And that was the last thing Tony thought before slamming on the brakes as the car began to skid out of control, his hands furiously gripping the wheel as he turned it, trying desperately to right the Mustang before he felt it begin to flip over.