A/N- Lots of Vance next chapter
"My husband is not a murderer Agent Gibbs"
Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs took the seat at the table opposite Delilah Vance,
"Sometimes those you love the most can deceive you" he muttered neutrally, taking another sip of his coffee. She looked up from her hands, clasped on the table in front of her, eyes red and swollen.
"I am not being deceived, I know Leon, as a husband, as a father and as a man, he is not capable of murder"
Except he had been a soldier, Gibbs mused, and somewhere in the line of duty, he would have taken a life. Some people believed that soldiers were more likely to commit murder, especially if they'd seen battle, especially if they'd seen the result of their attack.
It was always easier after the first.
Fortunately most were able to distinguish the fine line between duty and playing God, but Gibbs saw first-hand everyday how many people did not.
"Have you spoken to Leon since yesterday morning?" he asked her gently, hoping the use of the Director's name would create a less formal setting and allow her to open up. She shook her head and choked on a sob,
"No...the last time I saw him, he kissed me and the kids goodbye and went to work...God...I've sent the kids to my sister's in Miami, I've told her not to let them watch the news in case it specifically mentions him"
She broke down again and he knew that she wouldn't give him any more information.
"Leon Vance is a person of interest in an ongoing investigation," he told her gently,
"If you do hear from him, please let us know immediately"
He would have McGee put a wire tap on the Vance household phones later that day.
He gave her a smile as she stood to leave, he made to touch her elbow but she pulled back at him, her eyes alight with distrust, sensing the falsity
behind his attempt to comfort her.
That was what one day in the Director's chair had done to him.
Ziva's already frail nerves shredded as another object hit the side of the van, the noise rocketing in the tiny space where she and Tony huddled, yet it was quickly drowned out by the screams of hatred and fury. She focused her eyes on the sliding door across from her, the only direct possible entrance for the angry mass outside, she tried to reassure herself that they couldn't get in, the door was locked and bulletproof. It was small comfort when another object, heavier this time, pounded against the side.
Next to her, Tony cursed under his breath, and gripped her all the tighter, the moment the first missile had hit he had pushed her into a crouching position, guarding her as much as possible from the attacks that couldn't possibly reach them.
"Drive faster Palmer...If we run over someone, they're the one to blame!"
"If I run over someone they're going to riot"
"They're already rioting, that's why they're here!"
Suddenly they heard the all-too-familiar sound of gunfire, thundering in their ears and, for a moment, stunning the crowd outside into silence. Terror made the decision easy for Palmer, he slammed his foot down on the gas and they nearly mowed down the security gate and the guards as they shot into the Navy Yard. Ziva was able to determine how far they travelled by the sounds around the van, or rather the lack of sounds. She could barely hear the protesters as they slowed and eventually stopped altogether, the slight vibrations of the van cutting out,
"We're here" Palmer announced unnecessarily, leaping from the driver's seat.
Ziva slowly stretched her legs as Tony unlocked the door, turning back to her before he opened it,
"You think you can walk?" he asked quietly and she nodded, doubting that he would be able to carry her all the way up to the squad room.
Nevertheless, he took her left hand, grasping it firmly in his own as he helped her from the vehicle, but releasing it when they realised that they were surrounded by fellow agents and workers. She floundered for a moment and wondered if he was embarrassed, but then cast the thought aside as ludicrous; likely he remembered her opinion on public displays of affection. She considered love to be a private matter.
"Ziva!"
She flinched involuntarily at the sound of her own name and looked around for the potential threat, relaxing only slightly when she saw Nicky Jardine approaching quickly.
Jardine, as the team referred to her, had obsessive compulsive disorder and couldn't stand even the slightest hint of germs, last Christmas Ziva and Tony had brought the woman some industrial strength hand sanitiser as a proper gift and received a heart-felt thanks. Despite her little quirk though, Jardine was a good agent and instinctively polite,
So Ziva could only imagine how terrible she must look for the smile to fall from Jardine's face and the woman to falter in her steps, an expression of pure horror fixing itself on her face.
Ziva knew she couldn't blame her.
She had been beautiful once. She had prided herself on her symmetrical features, her smooth skin and her naturally lovely appearance; she had relished not having to endure hours of expensive treatments just so she could feign beauty for a few minutes as some women did. When she was a teenager and had begun to notice the compliments she received, and how some of her friends weren't told how beautiful they were, she had started to take pleasure in her looks.
Her father had warned that such actions were sinful and would get her into trouble.
He had been right.
The men who had held her prisoner had admired her pretty face, had told her how long it had been since they had seen a woman, especially one as lovely as her. But then they had grown bored and decided that she didn't need her beauty because she wouldn't leave Somalia alive anyway.
They had begun with their hands and then finished with knives.
Ziva knew that she shouldn't be so vain as to care what people thought of her, she hadn't before, but since she had become aware of her surroundings again, she had avoided her reflection as much as possible, even when she entered bathrooms. It was bad enough that men as strong as Kort and Gibbs couldn't fix their eyes on her ruined face for more than an instant; she didn't need to know the extent of her mutilations now.
The only comfort she knew was that Tony didn't even seem to notice the scars that ran over her face, of course he would have had time to study them while she lay in her hospital bed, but it would be impossible for him to have accustomed himself to them in such a short period of time. As far as she could determine, he simply cared too much for her to be troubled by them, still seeing her as the woman who had been his partner and friend.
That alone made her able to cast Jardine a comforting smile,
"Shalom Nicky" she whispered, flooding her voice with understanding and forgiveness.
"I'm...glad...you're back. Welcome!" Jardine stuttered over her sentence, clearly determined to find the words that would upset Ziva the least.
Fortunately Tony had already begun herding her towards the garage elevator,
"Meeting with Gibbs" was the excuse he hurled at anyone who threw them a glance, but most of the people seemed to be turning away, or avoiding their eyes. She begun to wish that she had asked Tony to take her back to his place instead of NCIS, wish that she could trade an afternoon of movies and rest over her confession to Gibbs.
She couldn't however, she was all too aware of how weak her current position was, that all that stood between Gibbs sending her straight back to Israel was Gibbs already broken affection for her and Tony's unclear feelings. Citizenships meant nothing if nobody cared whether you lived or died, a Mossad agent knew that better than most. In 1960, Mossad had discovered a Nazi war criminal living in Argentina and had kidnapped him, taking him back to Israel for trial and execution, with only the outrage of the UN Security Council saving Joseph Mengele from a similar fate.
If Ziva were to be abducted tonight and carried back to Israel, with her recent treachery enough for her to hang...who would lift a hand to stop it?
If she was a re-instated NCIS agent, any actions against her would be to cause an international incident between America and Israel. Something that she doubted Eli David could risk, not with his daughter having been rescued by the CIA instead of Mossad, even a deputy director had to have a private life above reproach- that was why Tali-
No, she wouldn't go there, not now. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head as the elevator doors opened and kept pace with Tony as they walked across the floor, conversations stopping dead as they passed.
She jumped as Tony threw a casual arm over her shoulders and assumed he was lending her his strength again, except she saw Gibbs standing on the stairwell, overlooking the bullpen.
She smiled as she saw him, but her smile faltered when his face remained impassive. She inched closer to Tony, keeping her eyes locked with Gibbs as they climbed the stairs, clenching the documents tighter in her hand.
"Hey boss" Tony greeted casually, "Ziva…and I wanted to talk to you, which office you want to use?"
Gibbs was still watching her with his inscrutable gaze, "Director's" he decided, turning away to bound up the steps, leaving her and Tony to make their way up, slowly and alone.
Only now was Ziva able to realise that the relationship between Gibbs and Tony had sustained some damage, but she wasn't concerned. Gibbs had left her in Israel because she had tried to make him choose between them, Tony was his son, in a way she would never be his daughter.
Besides she had more pressing issues to worry about, she was starting to shake again and couldn't quite keep her eyes focused.
"Oh my!"
Ducky stepped back in shock as Jethro and Anthony, half carried, half dragged Ziva into the office, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Is she alright?" he asked unnecessarily, hurrying to her side as they lay her onto the couch, but Gibbs waved him off as he went to check her vitals,
"It's not medical Duck," he determined, "Emotional...she's having a panic attack"
"Mossad ninja style" Tony grunted, lifting Ziva's head onto his lap and pressing his mouth to her ear.
Ducky found himself taking refuge in his analytical mind as he watched young Anthony whispering soothingly to the young woman, not wanting to, once again, be the unwelcome audience to the intimacy between them. He would have rather left the office altogether and waited outside, except young Ziva's condition was worrying him. She was still recovering from her previous experience and the exertion of a panic attack could only hinder her healing,
"Pass me the trashcan Duck" Gibbs ordered suddenly as Ziva began coughing,
"She's not gonna be sick boss" Anthony reassured him, lifting his eyes up to stare at them both,
"She emptied her stomach on the way over here, twice! Had to break a few road rules to get her out of my car in time,"
"Really DiNozzo!" Gibbs cried in exasperation, "Your car?!"
"Well...Ziva would have felt bad if she'd ruined the upholstery"
It was on the tip of Ducky's tongue to warn Anthony about the dangers of attachment to material objects, except he knew that it would be sheer hypocrisy, he treasured his vintage Morgan, Gibbs had built his car from scratch and Tony's car was the exact same used in…one of his favourite movies.
"Gibbs…" they all focused their attention on Ziva,
"Yeah…I'm here Ziva" he reached over and took her hand,
"Kort had me call Israel…had me call Eli"
She broke down then and Ducky found himself balling his hands into fists feeling an unusual strain of violence well within him.
"I think I have been blacklisted by Mossad"
By her own father.
Donald Mallard knew for a fact that if he had ever had a biological daughter or son for that matter, he would never have done such a thing to them.
For that matter, he would never have done such a thing to Ziva or Abby, his adopted grand-daughters.
"Just rest now David" Gibbs ordered, "Come on…I'll take you home"
"I have no home" she whispered as Gibbs led her from the office,
"All I have are useless papers"
"Anthony" Ducky called quietly as the younger man made to follow the pair.
"Might I have a word?" he asked gesturing to the table, seeing the exasperated look,
"Now Duck?!" he whined, sounding much like his former fun-loving self,
"Jethro insisted that I be the one to do this" he informed him, settling down onto one of the chairs,
"Unfortunately we need to have a talk about a delicate issue"
Whether from the tone of his voice or the slight blush, Anthony caught on quickly,
"Not the sex talk!"
"Yes I'm afraid" Ducky would have laughed at the horrified look on young Anthony's face were matters not so serious.
"Come on Duck…I'm the last person on the team who needs the sex talk…McGee on the other hand…"
"Timothy is not the one whom Jethro and I have reason to believe is in a fledging relationship with a rather distressed young woman"
That got Tony's attention and he sat down opposite Ducky,
"What do I need to know?"
Ducky sighed and removed his glasses, "That whatever Ziva has encountered over the last few months of her life, it is likely she will suffer emotional and psychological trauma as well as the physical. Though she seems to draw much comfort from your presence…Jethro and I are concerned that if you were to indulge in a…romantic relationship with her that it would cause her greater mental instability…"
"So" Tony interrupted, his voice tinged with bitterness "essentially dating me would drive the woman crazy"
"At this current stage yes" Ducky allowed, ingoring the joke
"Hence the reason she will be staying with Jethro until we are sure she no longer suffers from post traumatic stress disorder"
Tony leapt to his feet at that and paced the room, agitated.
"I want her with me Duck…she doesn't feel safe around the boss man, she trusts me not to hurt her"
"Even after Michael Rivkin?" the older man asked astounded,
"I think because of him"
"Regardless" Ducky stood up, "Anthony believe me when I say that I know Ziva to be a proud young woman, she will not wish for a man she cares deeply for to be witness to her suffering over the next few months"
"Months?!" he looked at him with disbelief, "You want me to stay away from Ziva for months!"
Ducky could only nod.
A/N- Tell me what you think