Hello. Long time, no…type? I do not know the correct word that goes there. Anyway, what I was trying to say was, it has been a while. I am sorry for that. I have been busy with work and revision and other stuff.
XXXVII. Today You Are You! That Is Truer Than True! There Is No One Alive Who Is You-er Than You!
"Ziva! Oh, my gosh, we've missed you so much!" Abby ran over as she and Tony stepped out of the elevator.
"You saw us yesterday, Abby."
"But it's not the same! It wasn't us, the team, working together! It's good to have you back, Ziva."
"Hey, how about me?" Tony pouted. "Didn't you miss me?"
"Aw, of course, we missed you, Tony. We missed you both." She pulled them both into a big hug. "But we missed Ziva more." She pulled back and grinned. "I gotta go back to the lab, but come visit me." She bounded off, sending a wave back behind her.
"Ah, it's good to be back." Tony spread his arms and breathed in. "There is one thing I didn't miss though."
"And what is that, Mon Petit Pois?"
"The orange. Bad, bad orange." Ziva laughed and took his hand, tugging him in the direction of their desks. "I'm back!"
"Ziva! How are you?" Cassie smiled and waved.
"I am well, thank you."
"It's good to have you back, Ziva."
"It is good to be back, McGee."
"Okay, that is it! I've been away too!"
"Yeah, the difference is that Ziva is less annoying than you and she was actually off on sick-leave, whilst you were just off because she was."
"I was not sick, nor am I sick, McGee."
"Right. Of course, you're not. We're just glad you're back."
"Back to work, people. Jeffry Abbotts is cooling his heels in interrogation." Gibbs grounded everyone again. "McGee, catch the lovebirds up on the case." He stormed out again, probably in search of Ducky or Abby.
"Who is Jeffry Abbotts?"
"Alan Dodge."
"Alan Dodge was an alias. Last night, whilst we were staking out the PO box, 'Alan Dodge' more commonly known as Jeffry Abbotts, comes in to empty it. Took out bank statements for Alan Dodge, showing a large influx of money. But there was also money leaving," Cassie waited for McGee to bring the details up on the plasma. "Payments to a series of off-shore accounts all registered under 'Civilisation'."
"Civilisation?"
"Yeah. Civilisation. We're trying to come up with any possible meanings, but…" McGee shrugged. "We're coming up empty handed."
"Where was the money coming from?"
"That's the thing, so far, all the accounts from which money was coming from belong to people who on paper are unconnected. They're all in geographically different locations, all have different political alliances, all have different social standings. Different genders, ages…there's nothing linking any of them."
"So…have we spoken to any of them?"
"Nope, but you're gonna." Gibbs walked back in. "DiNozzo, David, take the top half of the list, McGee, Yates, you take the bottom half. Go on. Go."
"You like being a field agent, McGee?"
"Yeah. I like meeting the people, getting away from the desk."
"You don't miss the computers?" Cassie frowned as she knocked on the door to the first of the addresses on their half of the list.
"Nah, not really. I still get to work with the computers, I just get to do other stuff too."
"And you don't mind DiNozzo pushing you round in the way he does?" Of course, Cassie knew that it was just Tony's way of showing he cared, but she also knew it could be quite uncomfortable if he shoved you hard enough. And McGee would always, in her eyes at least, be the much younger little brother who was still soft and naïve.
"No. You get used to Tony. And, I kinda miss it when he's not around." He shrugged. "It's not like he reserves it only for me. He's like that with Ziva too, and they're getting married." The door was opened by a little old lady.
"Yes?"
"NCIS Agents Yates and McGee. We have a few questions for a Mrs Ingrid Burton."
"Well that's me but I've never heard of any NCI…what did you say it was again?"
"NCIS. Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We investigate crimes in the US Navy and Marine Corps." McGee smiled.
"I'm 89 years old and I have never had anything to do with the navy. I did try and steal a pink lace negligee when I was in my twenties, but I gave it back when they caught me."
"Well, we're not here to talk about stolen lingerie." Cassie smiled. "Can we come in?"
"Oh, yes, how rude of me. I should have offered drinks. That's what they taught me in finishing school, you know, but it has been a long time since anyone has visited with whom I can exercise my etiquette." She waved them through into the old home that didn't look like it had been redecorated since at least the 60s. "Can I get you any drinks?"
"No, that's fine." McGee shook his head. "We wanted to talk to you about deposits made from your bank account into the bank account of Alan Dodge."
"I've never heard of Alan Dodge." Ingrid frowned and shook her head. "My bank account is only used to pay the home care nurse who comes around once a week and my grocery shop. I don't have any other uses for it."
"Do you know a Jeffry Abbotts?"
"No, but I do know a Jimmy Abbotts. Or is it Jimmy Abbington. Maybe his name isn't Jimmy." She frowned. "Hold on, I'll just find out for you." She hobbled out of the room and Cassie and McGee exchanged a glance. "Here we go." She brought back a leather bound photo album. "It's been a long while since I've seen him of course, oh, it must be nearly sixty years ago now. He was a lovely boy, so handsome. See, there he is. Oh, yes. Jeremiah. That was his name." She handed an old photo over to Cassie and she nodded and smiled.
"He looks like a very nice man. Mrs. Burton, did you know a Petty Officer Ryan Woodson?"
"Did? Is he dead?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry. Did you know him?"
"No, but it is always awful when young people die."
"Yes, it is." Cassie nodded in agreement. "Have you received any strange letters, emails or phone calls lately?"
"I had a phone call the other day telling me that my email account needed renewing. I don't have an email account. I don't even own a computer. I told him that, but he still asked for some details like my date of birth and my address." She shrugged.
"Did you give them to him?"
"Well, yes. He said it was important and he was protecting me from scams."
"Ma'am, that was a scam." McGee sighed.
"But he sounded like such a nice man." She frowned. "How could such a nice man do such a thing?"
"We don't know. When was this phone call exactly?"
"Oh, it must have been just before Christmas. I think I was just about to go to Mabel's birthday celebration at the center down the road, so maybe it was the 22nd. Or was it the 23rd. They all blend together these days, you know. Monday is just like Sunday and Thursday is just like Tuesday. Adding numbers just makes it more confusing." She shook her head and McGee and Cassie nodded in agreement with very little commitment. "Would you like some tea? Coffee? I have some milk in the fridge, very good for your bones, young man. You'll need strong bones for when you're old enough to marry and have children. I have two sons, you know. One's about the same age as you. He's a good boy. He lives in Switzerland now, always sends a letter home once a month. Rosie, the lady next door, she reads them to me. Would you like some tea?"
"No, Ma'am. We need to be going. But you have been very helpful. If you remember anything else, don't hesitate to call me on one of these numbers." Cassie smiled and placed her business card on the table as she and McGee stood up.
"Oh, you're leaving so soon?"
"I'm afraid so," McGee said. "Before we go, is there anything we can get you?"
"Oh, no, no. You go and catch those criminals." She waved them out of the door.
"Reliable witness?"
"Something's telling me 'no'. I don't know what it is though?" Cassie shrugged and chuckled before sobering up. "Why would anybody want to steal from such a nice old lady?"
"She's an easy target. Why do predators ever go for the elderly?"
"Because they are usually frail." Cassie nodded. "Who's next?"
"Okay, thank you." Tony smiled and waved as he and Ziva walked down from the veranda.
"Something smells crabby here."
"I was thinking it smelt more...fishy." He looked at her and smiled.
"What is crabby then?"
"Uh, a seafood dish?" She rolled her eyes at him as she climbed into the charger.
"I thought 'Crabby' meant suspicious."
"No, it means irritable. Fishy is suspicious."
"What is suspicious about fish?"
"What's suspicious about crabs?" Tony shrugged.
"What?" She looked at him. "Nothing is suspicious about crabs."
"Right then."
"I am confused."
"Me too." Tony laughed, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers. "What is it that you think is suspicious?"
"Well, we have been to five different houses now. None of them have any connection to Woodson or Jeffry Abbotts. None of them have any connection to one another. None of them have a single motive for terrorism. None of them have motives for anything. Surely the absence of connections and motives is very suspicious."
"Like…a lack of coincidence?"
"Or maybe the lack of anything is in itself a coincidence."
"Confused again?" Tony wrinkled his brow and Ziva nodded slightly. "Yeah, me too. Come on. We can do the rest tomorrow. We'll go back to the office and write up the reports so far, then see if Gibbs will let us call it a day, 'cause I'm tired and you're looking tired." He smiled when she nodded, leaning forward and kissing her once more before sliding the key into the ignition and starting the car.
"You can come down here. I won't bite." Gibbs called out, not looking up from the piece of wood he was sanding. A cloth covered the workbench, concealing what lay underneath. He waited as she stepped carefully down the stairs into the dimly lit basement. He pulled out a carton of orange juice and two glass jars, making her laugh.
"How did you know I was…?"
"My house, Ziva. I know when someone else is in it." He shrugged as she took a seat opposite him. "Shouldn't you be home with Tony? Doing what ever it is you two do together…"
"I need to talk to you."
"That part was obvious. Tony?"
"He knows I am here. Actually, it was Tony who convinced me to come."
"He's sat in his car outside, isn't he?"
"Yes." She nodded and smiled, taking a sip of orange juice. She looked around the basement that she, and everyone else on team Gibbs, was so familiar with. "What is under the sheet?"
"None of your business. What do you want to talk about?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
"What? Your famous gut does not know what I am here for already?" She smirked, avoiding the point of her visit.
"Ziva." He warned. He could tell she was nervous, something that he wasn't used to seeing in the Israeli.
"I, uh…" She ran a hand through her hair and placed the other on her stomach. "I, um…I…" This time she stood up and cracked her knuckles, rolling her neck until it clicked. She began pacing the concrete floor. "This is, uh, difficult. I…my father, he has not been the best of role models. Or the best of fathers, really…and, uh…well, he does not exactly…approve of Tony and I. He does not approve of Tony. Period… I have no problem with this, not really…I mean, he and I, our relationship has always been…" She paused, fighting for the words.
"Complicated?"
"Yes. Complicated. But there is one thing that I cannot have because of this…one thing that I would like…" She shook her head. "When I was talking to Tony's aunt Nora, she said that one would usually ask questions like this in an invite, but I felt that there was something…impersonal about that. And also…I do not believe that there is often a need to ask this specific question, because, well, most people have their actual father walk them down the aisle, but…Gibbs, I know I am not your daughter, and I know that you had a daughter…but I just…you are the closest thing I…when I first came here, I was a different person to who I am now, and I…it is you and Tony who have caused that change…that good change…and I am marrying Tony and I was just…I mean, I hoped that maybe…uh, you do not have to if you do not want to, but I would very much like it…"
"Ziva…" Gibbs chuckled and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to try and calm her. "I would be honoured to give you away at your wedding." She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. His brow furrowed and he tilted her chin up. "Ziva, you and Tony and Abby and McGee, you are all my children. I thought you knew that." She looked like she was about to argue and he placed a finger on her lips. "Blood isn't everything, Ziva."
"I thought there was an expression 'Water is thinner than blood', yes?"
"Usually the other way around."
"Blood is thinner than water?" She frowned, puzzled, and shook her head. "No, I disagree with that, Gibbs. I have seen a lot of blood in my life and I can guarantee that water is definitely thinner than blood."
"Blood is thicker than water."
"That is what I am saying."
"Ziva, the expression is 'Blood is thicker than water.'"
"Americans and their word order. Tony is always correcting the order of my words. Do they not mean the same thing?"
He paused. "Yes."
"Then why can I not say it the way I want to say it?"
"Because that's not the way it works." He shrugged and smiled. They may all say that DiNozzo was childish, but Ziva also had a streak of childlike inquisitiveness. It made for a good investigator, always wanting to know why. "And I don't agree with it anyway. Marines are my brothers, you are my children."
"And Jenny is the wife you never married?"
"You've been spending too much time with Abby and DiNozzo. Jen and I…we were never…"
"You were and we all know it. Do not deny it, Gibbs." Her smile softened slightly. "It was the reason for rule twelve, was it not? Your relationship with the Director?"
"I think rule twelve has too many loopholes for it to matter." He changed the subject. "I mean, you're marrying DiNozzo."
"Rule twelve is never date a co-worker, though, Gibbs. Marriage is, as you well know, not dating, therefore there is no problem."
"But you had to be dating in the first place."
"Yes… Although, it did not start like that. It started with McGee's inability to book two rooms. Or even just a room with two beds. Can you believe that in the whole of Venice he could only book one double room?"
"No. There were other choices, that was just the most convenient and I told him to book that room."
"You told him? To book a double room?" She asked, not believing a word of it.
"Yup." He grinned.
"So it is you that I have to blame that I am pregnant."
"Nope, that's all you and DiNozzo." He chuckled and pulled her in for a somewhat awkward hug between two people who are not the most adept at embraces. "I wouldn't miss walking you down the aisle for the world, Ziva."
"Thank you, Gibbs. Thank you, for everything. Thank you for sending us to Venice and making McGee book that room."
"Ah, my pleasure." He shrugged and kissed the top of her head. "Now go on, go home to Tony." She pulled away from him and grinned.
"I will see you tomorrow, Gibbs."
"Bright and early." She nodded and made her way upstairs. Gibbs sighed and sat back down, pulling the sheet off of the pieces of carved wood. He picked up the closest, one of the horizontal end struts of a crib, and started sanding the surface down, smiling to himself.
