Chapter 28: Opponent

The restaurant is said to only serve seafood. Gibbs is not entirely interested until he sees a sizzling steak walk past his head. He watches as the waiter places it in front of the burly man in his beach clothes and then leaves to take another plate of food to another hungry customer.

Ziva sits with her arms and legs kept closely to her. Five minutes prior to her way of sitting, her foot had accidentally touched Gibbs' foot under the small table. She muttered a sorry to him, but he was more sorry now that he could see her retreating from him.

He feels as if he is on the job. He the investigator--the interrogator and her, the frightened suspect who hasn't got a single clue on what to say next--or knows what to say next, but feels that lying will be the best decision for the time being.

And he hates feeling this way. He is not on the job. His weapon is nestled close to him, but he has no intention of using it for the rest of the day. And his badge is forming a pattern inside his jeans pocket since he has no need to flash it to anyone now or for the remaining hours.

A waiter appears to take their orders, but Ziva tells him they have no decided yet. Gibbs wants to correct her--he knows he wants a steak, but he lets the waiter continue to greet a different party.

"You hungry?"

He knows the question is rather foolish considering they are inside of a little restaurant near the beach, but he makes no effort to take it back.

"A little." She admits though she wanted to say no.

Wanting to question her eating habits springs to his mind for the second time in one day. He clears his throat and decides with their free time he might as well start some form of a conversation whether she wants it or not.

"Haven't found much time to eat?" He begins.

"What do you mean?" She takes her eyes off the menu to stare into his alert blue eyes.

"Saw you chow down that sandwich back on the boat." He shrugs. "Now you're staring the menu down--and backtracking. Thought there might be a reason."

"Yes--I am hungry." She replies simply, but a certain flare of rudeness is heard.

"That all?"

"Yes."

He puts his hands in front of him while his elbows rest on the table. He knows it goes beyond table manners his father instilled into him since he was a child, but he can not seem to really care all that much about it at the moment.

"You lyin' to me?" His tone hot and incredibly bothered.

She blinks at him in hopes it answers his question--or that her attempt to answer his question acceptable.

"…'Cause I don't like it." He raises his eyebrows. "You got that--Ziva? I don't like you lying to me."

"You speak as if I owe you the truth."

"You do!" He realizes then that his bark very well could be worst than his bite. "What's going on with you? You disappear for months on end and when we find time for each other you zip your lips."

She folds the menu and flags over a waiter who indicates he will be with her in a few minutes.

"You listening to me?"

"Yes." She crosses her arms over her chest casually. "I have a job to do, Gibbs. You have your own. I can not help it if it interferes with…whatever plans you have."

"There are no plans." He fights the urge to grit her teeth. "That isn't the point--you know my number." She nods in agreement. "I've just gotten your new number."

"My other number is not a protective line."

"I'm never one to share case details--especially over the phone. We work for two different Agencies--Ziva, our work has nothing to do with our communication unless you've got something going on that you're not telling me."

"Sometimes things should not be said."

"You in trouble?"

"No--Gibbs. I am not in any trouble." She looks around for the waiter; hoping it shows soon. "If I were I would know how to take care of myself."

He removes his hands from the table to cross his arms. "You're doing it again."

"What is it--exactly…that you want from me?" She leans forward to mimic the position his prior position.

"I'm offering my help and you're right in my face--shutting me down."

"I am not shutting you down."

"Yes you are!" He shuts his eyes as the waiter appears. When asked what he would like to eat, he mutters his order not giving Ziva the chance to go first. "And she'll have the same."

As the waiter finishes writing in his pad, he leaves the two flustered Agents to themselves.

"That was not what I wanted."

"Too bad." He throws back at her. "You'll eat it anyway."

"Is this become I would not take your act of kindness?"

"Maybe." He shrugs. "Maybe not."

"You are acting unfairly, Gibbs."

He looks past her shoulders. Through the window he can see the high winds from the storm that has yet to hit.

"I thought we agreed to be civil." She leans a little more into the table. "To be…friends."

"Yeah." He laughs bitterly. "How's that been workin' out for us so far?"

She slowly pushes into the back of the booth; no longer leaning forward. The bitterness in his tone has put her off.

"I am not sure how to continue in this way." She states.

Gibbs feels a weird filling in the bit of his stomach that he has not felt in a such a very long time.

"You're just gonna walk away--again?"

"I did not walk away the first time. You pushed me out!" She shakes her fists madly at him. "Damn it Gibbs--stop being difficult."

"How's it feel to be on the opposite end?"

"Why must we do this each and every time?" Her eyes fill with tiredness.

"We don't gotta--" He sighs after the look in her eyes gets the best of him. "Forget about it--okay? We'll just have some dinner."

"But we aren't solving anything."

"Maybe that's just the way it ought to be--Ziva. Maybe we're just not…supposed to solve anything." He unwraps his knife and fork, preparing for the steak that should be coming in the next few minutes. "Just leave it alone--it isn't worth our time and energy to go through this each and every time."

"Then you will not question me in the future?"

"I won't." He tells her. "…'bout anything."

It is now that she realizes she is not sure how to take his answer.