Chapter Three

The door to Abby's lab slid open with a hiss of air and the team's two and only Shifters approached the black-haired Goth. "The Wolf" was still playing, since Abby had it on a loop. Both of them froze as they listened to the lyrics:

". . . But you are only a lonely hunter
Some things you can't disguise
Just to look in the hallway mirror
Now it's howling in your eyes

The wolf
Prowling in the nighttime
The wolf
Howling in the moonshine
The wolf
Gives you what you want but he ain't no friend of mine . . ."

Ziva felt her hackles rise and her teeth bare in a snarl, slowly sharpening. Tony put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Take it easy, Zi. It's just a song."

His touch sent a warm current through her and she could feel her canines resuming their normal shape as she calmed down.

Abby must have sensed her presence, since she said, "Hi, guys. What brings you to my humble lab?"

Ziva asked, "Do you have the results on that substance Ducky found in Petty Officer Madison's wounds?"

"Not yet. Major Mass Spec is still—" She was interrupted by the mass spectrometer making a beeping noise. Immediately, she typed a command and the results popped up on the computer screen.

Tony and Ziva eyed them with dread: the fragments were 97% silver.

Right then, Gibbs walked in. "What'd ya got, Abbs?"

Abby spun around to face him. "You know the shiny stuff Ducky found in Phoebe's wounds?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"It's almost pure silver, Gibbs."

McGee remarked, "Isn't silver used to kill werewolves?"

The three of them turned to ask the movie buff, but he and his Mossad sidekick had vanished.

"Where'd they go?" McGee asked.

At a look from his boss, he added hastily, "I'll go look for them." The probie left, the doors hissing shut in his wake.

Before leaving, Gibbs softly pressed his lips to Abby's cheek. "That's good work, Abbs."

She beamed and whirled back around, sucking on her Caf-Pow.

...

Upstairs, Gibbs stopped and stared in surprise when he saw Ziva and Tony at their desks, working. He wondered, How did they get up here so fast?

"Hey, Boss," DiNozzo greeted him. "Ziva's got something on our petty officer."

"What?"

Ziva rose from her chair and grabbed the plasma remote. She pressed a button and brought up some photos and a call log. "Petty Officer Madison was last with a guy called Chris Nixon. According to her email and phone logs, they were contacting each other at least twice a week."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," said Tony as he looked at the driver's license photo. Nixon had shaggy blond hair that fell in front of his hazel eyes.

"True, but they were on the phone at least five minutes before we arrived."

"Well, go get him," Gibbs said to Ziva. "Take DiNozzo with you."

He was surprised when neither of them complained, especially when Ziva announced that she was driving. The former Marine eyed the two partners suspiciously. Then they were gone from view as the elevator doors shut with a ding.

The Mossad liaison officer leaned back, resting her head on his chest. She said, "Let's try to resolve this without morphing."

"I promise I won't revert to wolf unless I have to."

Ziva felt him stiffen against her as she breathed in deeply, savoring the natural fragrance of his skin. She couldn't help thinking that he smelled like brick and pine needles.

"Why, thank you," Tony said, causing Ziva to jump forward. She whirled to face him, but the elevator doors opened before she could say anything. As they walked out to the car, she seethed, "You were reading my thoughts?"

Tony fell in beside her as they walked to the car, running a hand through his medium-brown hair. "How can I not? You smell so good that I'm always focusing on you . . ."

Ziva stopped dead in her track. Tony ended up taking a few more steps before backtracking. "What?"

"If you can read my mind, you'll know," the Mossad liaison snapped, striding forward until she reached the car. She slid inside the driver's side without waiting for his response.

They were off in a screech of tires.

...

At least an hour later, they pulled up at Chris Nixon's Tudor-style house, Tony complaining for the hundredth time about Ziva's driving style.

He shut up when Ziva went all rigid.

"Tony, over there. I think I see Chris Nixon." Her eyes had spotted a twenty-something man with shaggy blond hair bent over picking up a newspaper. She strode forward, sensing her partner fall into step behind her. "Chris Nixon?"

"Yeah?" He looked up, eyes wary. They narrowed when he saw the two tough-looking Shifters. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Tony flashed his badge. "NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. This is Officer David."

"Did something happen to Phoebe?" Chris asked, worry flashing in his hazel eyes.

"Well, you could say that," said Ziva. "She was killed this morning shortly after she talked to you."

Nixon paled. "You think she was murdered because of our conversation?"

No, Ziva thought. She couldn't tell him that, so she flashed back, "What were you talking about?"

Chris shifted his weight, clearly feeling uncomfortable. "Can we do this inside, please?" He moved toward the front door, opened it, and entered the house. Exchanging glances, the two Shifters followed, Tony muttering, "I hate dealing with Statics," under his breath.

"Then why did you become a cop?" Ziva whispered.

"So I can stick my nose into other people's business."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Um, excuse me?" Chris broke into their conversation. "Were we going to take all day? I need to be somewhere in an hour."

Ziva felt flustered, but hid it as she said smoothly, "What exactly were you and Petty Officer Madison talking about on the phone?"

"She said that you guys were after her—no surprise there—and that she'd seen something that had her pretty freaked out."

"Can you remember what?" Tony asked urgently.

"Something about wolves? No, werewolves."

Ziva could see her own shock reflected in her partner's eyes. Quickly regaining her cool composure, the Israeli Shifter said, "Where were you at nine twenty-five this morning?"

"It's Friday. I was at work. Check with my boss if you don't believe me."

"You just got off work at ten fifteen in the morning?" Ziva asked, puzzled.

"I work the graveyard shift," Chris said defensively. "Now, are we done?"

Ziva glanced at Tony, who shrugged. "Yeah."

"Good. Beat it."

The Mossad liaison forced down the growl that was rising in her throat and handed him her card. "Call us if you remember anything else." Then she turned and walked briskly out of the house, DiNozzo bounding after her.

Once they were outside, she couldn't hold back a frustrated snarl. "Just who did he think he was?"

"Well, it is his house, Zi."

"That doesn't give him the right to—" She stopped and spun around as she felt eyes boring into her back. "Do you feel that?"

"What?"

"We're being watched."

Tony wheeled around, but not before Ziva caught sight of the curtain behind the window swishing back into place. She shook her head, ponytail bouncing, and suggested, "Why don't we run for a bit? The others won't expect us for a while."

The senior field agent shrugged, but there was something predatory in his eyes. He teased, "Biped or four-legged?"

Ziva started jogging, heading for a nearby copse of trees. Sighing, Tony started to follow her, but stopped when his cell phone rang—his alias's cell. After casting a longing glance at Ziva, he answered it. "Hi, Jeanne."

"Hey, Tony," she began.

"I'm sorry, but this really isn't a good time. Look, how about you meet me tomorrow night around eight for dinner?"

"Okay." Did she sound disappointed, or was it just him?

"I'll see you then," DiNozzo told her, hanging up. Looking back at Ziva, he stiffened when he saw her wolf head sticking out of the trees. In wolf form, Ziva always took his breath away.

Come on, Tony. I don't have all day.

From where she was in the trees, Ziva could see his mouth hitch up in a smile. Then he was striding towards her, green eyes glinting mischievously. Ziva turned her back as he ducked behind a bush; then Tony was gone and the wolf stepped out.

His medium brown coat shone as the sunlight dappled it. Ziva stood staring for a few heartbeats, then shook herself, dark brown fur rippling. Let's run, she thought, flicking his nose with her tail as she pelted away.

A shiver ran through her as she felt Tony's pelt brush hers, and then there was nothing but the wind caressing her fur and the feeling of flying over the ground.


Aww, so cute. Here's a little fun fact: Chris Nixon is actually based off one of my classmates. He asked me if he could be in this, so the best I could do was base a character off him.