LIVING TOGETHER

Author's Note: I know the new SecNav is Sheffield, however this takes place prior to Season 8, because I have removed it from my memory after that dreaded kiss in the finale. Browneyeez!

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Five days had past since the attempts on their lives.  With Zoya's apartment in shambles, she was staying in Webb's guest room. This actually suited Wellington just fine.  He did not want them in the office or out in the field until it was confirmed they were no longer targets, he also felt there was safety in numbers. Security was assigned outside of Webb's apartment and they were escorted where ever they went. They really hadn't gone anywhere but to the store and to Zoya's to pick up her things.  They were actually enjoying the company. Since they were partners, it was a nice way to get to know each other. They chatted about their careers and educations.  They played board games and cards.  They even found time to play pranks on each other.  Zoya put olive oil in his shampoo and Webb put Elmer's glue in her body lotion. 

"Gin," Zoya said laying her cards on the table.

"Again," Webb groaned throwing his cards down.

"Yep, you owe me $172,682." Zoya laughed.

"Will you take a check?" Webb asked getting up.

"With two forms of ID," Zoya teased.

"Do you want something to drink?" Webb asked walking into the kitchen.

"Coffee," Zoya smiled sweetly.

"Countess, I have never seen anyone drink so much coffee, I'm glad I make decaf." Webb said.

"I like the flavor, always have.  I remember as a kid, taking sips of my dad's Lebanese coffee." Zoya said.

"That's the most you've ever said about either parent," Webb said returning to the living room.

"I don't talk about them much.  They were wonderful, but I never spent a lot of time with them.  With my father being assigned to the Middle East, they didn't want me there, too dangerous." Zoya shrugged. "I spent my childhood at boarding schools in England."

"My father wasn't around much either," Webb said.

"We're the typical privileged kids," Zoya smiled. "But I'm guessing just like me, you got a lot of quality time."

"That I did," Webb smiled.

"So, care for another hand?" Zoya asked shuffling the cards.

"No, I think you have cost me enough today." Webb laughed. "Do you play backgammon?"

"Are you serious? Of course I do," Zoya laughed. "Where did you learn how to play?"

"I learned years ago, when I was on assignment in France." Webb said.

"The French are usually not synonymous with backgammon." Zoya interrupted.

"Would you let me finish," Webb asked. "I was in France and I met this old Armenian man, he taught me to play."

"Well then, go get the board." Zoya smiled.

Webb got up to get the backgammon board, while he was in the sunroom his phone rang.

"Want me to get that?" Zoya asked.

"Please," Webb called back.

"Clayton Webb's love den," Zoya answered with a giggle.

"Excuse me, is Clayton there?" Porter Webb asked.

"Oooh, is this Mrs. Webb?" Zoya asked in embarrassment.

"Yes, may I ask with whom I am speaking?" Porter replied.

"Mrs. Webb, this is Zoya Nassar.  We spoke a few weeks ago." Zoya said.

"Don't tell me you took his phone by mistake again." Porter replied.

"No ma'am, he's actually in the other room." Zoya said. "One moment please."

"Who is it?" Webb asked walking in.

"Your mother," Zoya said handing him the phone. "Before you talk her to her…"

Before Zoya could finish Webb started speaking to his mother.

"Mother, how nice of you to call. How are you?" Webb said. "Yes, that was her.  Yes she is. Relax it's not what you think. It's business. My love what?" Webb turned and glared at Zoya. "Yes mother she really works for the company.  She also happens to have an odd sense of humor.  No, I don't think I will be able to.  Work is a little crazy right now. You too mother, take care."

"Well, I need another cup of coffee," Zoya said quickly.

"Freeze," Webb snapped. "You answered my phone Clayton Webb's Love Den?"

"Well, I didn't think it would be your mother," Zoya smiled.

"Zoya, please come up with something else for when you answer my phone." Webb asked.

"Well can I say, Clayton Webb's sex slave speaking?" Zoya asked with a mischievous grin.

"How about hello?" Webb replied. "It's worked for many years and is rather catchy."

"Fine, you know I haven't checked my messages all week." Zoya said picking up the phone.  She dialed her number and retrieved her messages.  She listened to a yelling voice and hung up.

"Who was that yelling?" Webb asked.

"AJ Chegwidden, he likes it if I check in with him when I am in town." Zoya said.

"I have to admit, I don't understand that relationship." Webb said.

"When my parents were killed, Uncle AJ was the one who was sent to escort me back home.  We formed a bond." Zoya smiled.

"I didn't know that, there isn't a lot about your personal life in your file." Webb said.

"You looked in my file?" Zoya asked.

"Oh don't be so shocked, like you've never looked in mine." Webb laughed.

"Anyway," Zoya said opening up the backgammon board. "Wow this is beautiful.  The mother of pearl design and ivory checkers are incredible."

"That old Armenian gave it to me, his father made it.  He carried it with him through the desert when they were deported. It's at least 80 years old." Webb said.

"Are you sure you want to use it?" Zoya asked.

"Anything for you Countess," Webb teased.

"Clay, I'm confused.  When I asked why you called me Countess, you said aside from the obvious." Zoya said. "If you don't know about my personal life, what is the obvious?"

"Honestly?" Webb asked.

"That would be nice." Zoya laughed.

"The very first time I saw you, was at a meeting before that luncheon. You were casually dressed, in jeans, and being blasted by Wellington for your appearance." Webb laughed. "You just stood up in the meeting and with an old world grace you basically told him if he didn't like the way you were dressed, next time he shouldn't call you to come in on your day off."

"You were there?" Zoya asked.

"Yes I was, and if I recall he reminded you that clothes make the man.  You responded 'I guess that makes you a cheap polyester blend' and walked out.  I thought for sure you were going to be fired, but two days later, there you were and you looked like a Countess." Webb smiled.

"Oh man, did he have a few things to say to me after that." Zoya laughed. "He finally realized putting up with my mouth was a small price to pay for my knowledge."

"I'd have to agree," Webb said picking up the dice and handing her one. "Let's roll to see who moves first."

"Are you ready to lose Webb?" Zoya teased.

"Tell me about you," Webb said.

"You know about me," Zoya said.

"I know what's in the file," Webb replied.

"Why the sudden interest?" Zoya asked.

"We just spent the last few days discussing every op we've ever been on." Webb said. "Besides, since we are living together, we might as well get to know each other."

"Ok, what do you want to know?" Zoya asked.

"Whatever you want to tell," Webb said. "I'll even do the same."

"Hmm, this could be interesting." Zoya laughed. "My father was born in New York to Lebanese parents and my mother was born in Canada to Russian parents."

"Your Lebanese and Russian, I knew that." Webb smiled. "My family is English."

"Really? My great great uncle married a woman of English descent." Zoya smiled.

"Who are you?" Webb asked. "You know about your great great uncle?"

"You really don't know," Zoya replied.

"NO!" Webb laughed. "Your file just has your parents' names and the fact that your father was an ambassador and they were killed in Lebanon."

"I really thought you knew," Zoya laughed, "With the countess comments and all.  I'm the great, great granddaughter of Tsar Alexander III." Zoya said casually.

"You're a Romanov?" Webb asked. "You're really something else, what about your father?"

"My father's family came here in 1930, right after the stock market crash and right before the war. My grandfather figured it would be a better life for them here then in Lebanon." Zoya stated. "They lived, loved and died."

"Typical immigrants," Webb said.

"I guess," Zoya shrugged.

"Where did the family fortune come from?" Webb asked.

"Hmm, you did some digging," Zoya laughed. "My grandfather imported fabrics."

"Your family is Nassar Textiles?" Webb asked.

"Yep, my father's sister's family runs the business now.  There was a falling out before I was born. I've never even met her." Zoya said, "What about the Webbs?"

"My mother's family came here in sometime in the late 1600's, my father's family shortly after, both from England." Webb said. "Through the years they made their money in the South.  Before the Civil War, knowing that there was going to be a war, they moved to Pennsylvania.  After the war they came back to help rebuild the South.  Having the knowledge of Northern manufacturing, my great, although I don't know how many greats, grandfather made his fortune."

"So, you are a Southern gentleman," Zoya smiled. "What about your mother's family?"

"They came here and settled in the North. Mother is one of the Daughters of the American Revolution and all of that.  " Webb said. "There really isn't much about them that I know. We never really talked about it."

"Why not?" Zoya asked.

"I guess since I lost my father, I asked about him. Mother is here, so I never thought to ask." Webb said.

"You should, what are you going to do after she's gone?" Zoya stated.

"I never thought about it." Webb sighed. "You seem to know about your family, all considered."

"Well, I was 12 when they died.  Dad used to tell me stories and as for my mother's family, open any history book." Zoya smiled.

"Family is good," Webb replied.

"Your mother didn't mind you making this a family business?" Zoya asked.

"How did you know that?" Webb asked.

"Research, did you think I just picked your name out of a hat? I researched you before I requested you." Zoya said. 

"I thought you requested me for my good looks," Webb joked.

"That's a bonus," Zoya smiled. "So, how did your mom feel?"

"No different than your father would have felt had you stayed on your career path. You wanted to be in the diplomatic corps." Webb smiled.

"How did you know that?" Zoya asked.

"After reading your educational background, you could tell." Webb smiled. "What made you change your mind?"

"It was the night before graduation from Georgetown and this man came up to me, and I guess you could say he made me an offer I couldn't refuse." Zoya smiled. "Um Clay, you can't roll. You have a man out and all my doors are closed."

"I don't believe this," Webb laughed as he reached to pick up the ringing phone. "Webb."

"Webb, this is AJ.  Have you spoken to Zoya?" AJ asked.

"Actually AJ, yes I have." Webb replied.

"Well, where the hell is she?" AJ yelled. Webb looked at Zoya and shrugged.

"She's right here," Webb said and handed the phone to Zoya.

"Uncle AJ, hi sorry I haven't called." Zoya said in a cheery tone.

"Where the hell have you been?" AJ asked. "I went by your apartment and there was police tape all over the place."

"Well, I've been here.  It's classified. You know I hate saying that to you but I really can't get into now.  I'll come by and explain as much as I can." Zoya said.

"You're ok?" AJ asked with a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, don't worry." Zoya said.

"I have to worry, let me speak to Webb." AJ said.

"He wants to talk to you," Zoya said handing him the phone.

"AJ, what can I do for you?" Webb asked.

"You touch her, I will kill you." AJ yelled. "If anything happens to her, I will kill you."

"I understand AJ and you have nothing to worry about." Webb replied.

"I'm serious Webb, I will kill you." AJ warned and slammed the phone.

"What was that about?" Zoya asked.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Webb replied.

"How about I make dinner?" Zoya asked getting up.

"Sounds good, do you need to go shopping?" Webb asked.

"Yeah, I'll be back in a bit." Zoya said and grabbed her bag.

"Remember to tell security," Webb advised as Zoya left.

Thirty minutes later, Zoya returned with two stuffed shopping bags. 

"Did you leave anything in the store?" Webb said taking a bag.

"Yes, I also rented a movie," Zoya laughed.

"What did you get?" Webb asked.

"Dr. Zhivago of course," Zoya smiled. "Now get out of here."

An hour later, Zoya called Webb into the dining room.

"I hope you don't mind, I found this china in a cabinet." Zoya said.

"That's fine, the table looks wonderful." Webb smiled.

"My mom used to say, never save your good china for tomorrow, because tomorrow might not come." Zoya smiled.

"Good advice," Webb said. "May I pour?"

Webb poured the wine, while Zoya served up the stroganoff and the sour cream cucumber salad.  She had also prepared pavlovas with fresh whipped cream for dessert.

"This was incredible. I didn't know you could cook." Webb said getting up from the table."

"One of many hidden talents," Zoya said picking up the dishes.

"After dinner drink?" Webb offered.

"How about an after we do the dishes drink," Zoya suggested.

"Let them wait," Webb said.

"You want to leave dirty dishes.  You may end up having a stroke." Zoya laughed.

"I can leave dirty dishes," Webb protested.

"No, I can leave dirty dishes. You will sit thinking about them until they are done." Zoya said.

Webb agreed, it bothered him that she had him pegged so well.  Zoya washed and Webb dried.  As they finished the dishes, Zoya picked up the container of left over whipped cream and turned to Webb.

"Don't even think about it," Webb warned.

"Think about what?" Zoya asked putting a finger in the container.

"I know that look," Webb said.

"What look?" Zoya asked as she licked her finger.

"That look that means I am going to need a shower." Webb said.

"Oh you want a shower?" Zoya smiled and grabbed the water hose from the sink.

"Don't do it," Webb warned.

"You mean don't squeeze this little trigger?" Zoya laughed.

"Countess, I'm warning you." Webb said.

Zoya smiled at Webb and put the hose back in place.  Webb turned and went back to drying the wine glasses.  Suddenly he felt a bit of cold on his back, and then he felt wetness.

"You're dead," Webb yelled and turned around.

Zoya was standing there spraying water all over Webb.  He tried to get the hose from her, but as he approached she just held steady.  He grabbed the whipped cream and taking a handful smeared some all over her face.  Zoya dropped the hose and picked up the sour cream, throwing some at Webb and running out of the kitchen.  Webb followed her armed with the whipped cream. They were shouting and laughing during their food fight.  Webb was just about to pour whipped cream over Zoya when his front door flew open.

"Nobody move!" The guard yelled with his gun drawn.

"Hi Mike," Zoya said with a straight face. "Would you like some dessert?"

"It sounded like someone was being attacked." Mike replied.

"Mike, everything is fine." Webb said.

"Ok, I'm going back to my post." Mike said and left.

Zoya looked at Webb and started laughing.

"This did not look good," Webb said.

"Live a little," Zoya said.

"Zoya, I work for the CIA. For that matter so do you. This is not exactly proper behavior." Webb said.

"Lighten up," Zoya laughed putting her arms around him and giving him a kiss.

"You just kissed me," Webb said confused.

"Yeah, but that was a small price to pay to get sour cream in your hair." Zoya laughed, "Now, how about that drink?"

Webb shook his head in amazement.  They cleaned themselves and everything up.  When they were done they sat on the couch, sipping cognac and watching the movie.  It was an interesting way to spend an evening.