A/N: This chapter is set partially between the end of "Hiatus: Part II" and the beginning of "Shalom" and partially in "Shalom" itself. A good amount of this chapter is borrowed from that episode, so if you see anything familiar with little changes, I'm just borrowing it and it doesn't belong to me!
The fifty-first time they sleep together, it's a delicious way to prove a point. There are two sides to every story, and two sides to every relationship.
It's difficult to say which NCIS employee is the most frustrated.
It might be Lee—this entire team and all of its members are constantly getting on her nerves, flaunting the rules and making her do things that feel ethically questionable. The lawyer in her winces at least ten times a day, and it doesn't help that they're all clearly very close, excluding her. Not that she really wants to be part of such an unprofessional group, but feeling constantly on the outside of their bubble exhausts her every day.
The most frustrated employee might be Tony—he likes being the center of attention and always has, but upon being asked to replace Gibbs, he's suddenly the center of attention again in ways he didn't necessarily anticipate… ways he doesn't necessarily like. It was certainly fun leading the team for the first few weeks when everyone was convinced that Gibbs would soon return, but as the weeks turned into a month and then longer, the glamor faded. The good thing is that he's gotten more confident in leading the team, and he knows they're producing good work. The bad thing is that… well, he's used to being a member of the team. He's used to being on the same level as McGee and Ziva, no matter how much he likes to hold his seniority over their heads. Now, things are different. He's responsible for them, and though that means little day-to-day, it weighs on him mentally.
The most frustrated employee might be Ziva—she's sick and tired of Tony DiNozzo. Since Gibbs left, her friend has changed, and she wants the old dynamic back. She still has the same relationship with McGee, but her relationship with Tony has shifted subtly and uncomfortably. She doesn't mind taking orders from him—in fact, they figured out long ago just how much she enjoys it under certain circumstances. What she doesn't enjoy is the way he treats her with kid gloves these days. He jokes less at her from across his desk. He picks McGee more often for fieldwork that has the potential of turning sour, though she knows she's a little more skilled than her friend is in things like that. Most frustrating of all, though, is the fact that Tony has turned her down every single time she's asked for sex since Gibbs left. Though it's driving her mad, she can't quite put her finger on why he's doing it. She catches him looking at her sometimes with barely disguised longing in his expression. He hasn't said a word to her about it and in fact, he's avoided one-on-one conversations unless they're strictly necessary for work.
The most frustrated employee might be Tim—he's a more-than-competent investigator, and it infuriates him that Tony and Ziva think so little of him as to assume he doesn't notice their increasingly obvious sexual frustration. He wants no part of whatever little dance they're doing, but as the third member of the team, he's stuck in the middle.
Ziva intentionally places McGee there one day when she can no longer take the frustration, both professionally and personally.
They're all packing up to leave for the evening, having finished what can reasonably be accomplished today. Knowing Tony cannot possibly ignore her if she asks in front of McGee, Ziva stands between her coworkers' desks and tries not to look as annoyed as she feels. "Tim, any plans for tonight?"
McGee gives her a strange look—it's a Tuesday, not exactly a typical night of excitement, but he answers her anyway. "Uh, not really. I'm just going home. I'll probably play a computer game or two, eat some dinner, and go to bed."
Ziva nods and turns to look at Tony, who's zipping up part of his backpack. "What about you, Tony?"
Tony looks up at her with an expression of mild discomfort on his face, clearly not overly thrilled with being asked. "Uh… yeah. I have to do that—that thing."
Tim has a lightbulb moment and realizes why Ziva is asking; will this help get whatever issue DiNozzo and David are having out in the open? Will they finally be able to address it so they can sleep together again and stop leaving the exasperated Tim in the middle of their sexual tension day in and day out? If there's any chance that it might fix things, he'll assist any way he can. "What thing, Tony?" he asks with a suspiciously pleasant smile on his face.
"Oh, you know, that…" Tony straightens up, looking back and forth between his team members and bearing strange resemblance to a cornered beast. "That work… thing?" He winces as he says it, because it's a terrible lie and he knows it.
"Seriously, Tony?" Ziva demands, dropping the idly curious act and crossing her arms. "What work thing? Are you forgetting that we work the same cases you do?"
"No, I just—" Tony looks helplessly at Ziva, and Tim sees this as his cue to leave. He slips past the other two, crossing his fingers for this to work. Down the stairs he goes—better not to risk possibly being on an elevator with those two.
"You just what?" Ziva's loud voice is attracting attention from the other employees still working in other sections of the bullpen, so Tony clears his throat and grabs Ziva by the upper arm. He swings his bag onto his back and frog-marches her to the elevator.
Once they're inside and the car is moving, he flips the switch for an emergency stop. He then turns to glare at Ziva as the lights dim and the car shudders to a halt. "What's on your mind, Ziva?" he asks, his voice tight. His posture and his question unintentionally mirror Gibbs' behavior, and that only reinforces for Tony why he's drawn the new boundaries where he did.
"I want to know why you have been avoiding me!"
"I haven't been avoiding you. I see you every single day at work," he reminds her, annoyed.
"You know exactly what I mean, so do not play stupid with me."
"You know what? No, I don't know what you mean. How about you enlighten me?" As they snap at one another, they get closer and closer together until they're in each other's faces.
"Fine, I will elaborate! I have not once seen you outside of the office since Gibbs left! We used to—get together at least once or twice every week, and now it has been two months with nothing."
"What can I say? I'm a busy guy." Her tone is making Tony feel defensive, and though he of course knows exactly what she's getting at, he isn't inclined to make this an easy conversation.
"With what? Your work things?" Ziva demands.
"Yes! Work things, life things, lots of things! I don't have to explain it to you because you don't own me, Ziva!"
Ziva recoils as if he has slapped her, and she gives him a look of deep anger. "I never said that I do," she tells him icily, her voice now much quieter and much more controlled.
Tony sighs and runs a hand roughly through his hair. "Look, that's not what I meant, okay? I'm sorry. Really."
Ziva relaxes slightly but Tony can tell that his comment stung. He's not sure what to say to fix this, but it's clear that he has to say something. "I've… been under a lot of pressure in the last several weeks," he says after some deliberation. "Things have changed a lot since Gibbs quit."
"I know that," Ziva replies. "I figured it out for myself when an entire month passed without you touching me once." She tries to keep the hurt out of her voice.
Tony winces. "Right. Again, sorry about that."
"You do not have to be sorry, Tony, but if you wish to end our… arrangement, I need you to tell me. I deserve to know when I am free to stop turning down advances from other men!" Her cheeks have a slight embarrassed flush, but her eyes flash with defiance, daring him to contradict her.
"Is that what you want?"
Ziva lets out a short, angry bark of laughter. "Do not patronize me, Tony. You stopped thinking about what I want a month ago."
Tony presses his lips together and crosses his arms. "That isn't fair," he tells her.
"Is it not? You have turned me down every single time I have tried to sleep with you for five weeks. To be clear, you do not have to be 'in the mood' at the drop of a hat whenever I want to have sex, and you can say no at any time, to anything. What you cannot do, though, is shut me out without a single word! I deserve better than that."
"You do," he agrees, nodding slowly.
"Why, then, are you doing this?"
She deserves the truth, as much as he doesn't want to tell her. "Because sleeping with you would be wrong, Ziva."
She misunderstands and the dark look on her face deepens. "You choose to follow Gibbs' preferences about team fraternization now that he is gone?"
"No, that's not it at all! It would be wrong because I'm responsible for you now. I'm in charge, you're my subordinate, and I don't want to abuse that power!"
Ziva was not expecting that answer, and it takes her a few moments to process it. "Really? That is what all of this has been about?"
Tony nods shortly.
"So you do still… want me?" Her voice is unusually insecure, bordering on shy.
"What?" It's Tony's turn to be surprised by an answer. "Are you crazy? Of course I still want you. God, I couldn't turn that off if I tried. I thought you knew that."
"It is hard to remain confident on something like that when you have not recently given me any sign of it."
He sighs once more. "I'm sorry again. Is it at least easier now that you understand?"
"Understand?" She frowns, annoyed again. "Does that mean you are going to keep doing it?"
"You heard me, Ziva! It would be an abuse of power—it would be an abuse of you."
"No, it would not." She laughs and it isn't a happy sound, frustrated with his inability to understand the flaws in his thinking. "I'm not some… some new hire straight out of college who has been coerced into sleeping with you because I am afraid that you will hurt my career prospects if I do not. We were on the same level before Gibbs left, yes? You are merely the one that makes the decisions now."
Tony still doesn't look convinced, and Ziva softens a little. While she does not need any protection from him, she has to appreciate that he's this concerned about forcing her to do something that she doesn't really want to do. She tries another tactic. "Practically, Tony, what power do you really have over me?" He starts to answer, but she cuts him off and answers herself. "You do not have the power to terminate my position. You do not have the power to determine the trajectory of my career. You do have the power to make me do tedious scut work that you yourself do not wish to complete, but fear of abusing your power has never stopped you from doing that to McGee."
That draws a small smile out of Tony, and Ziva smiles back, pressing her point a little further. "See? You are not being logical—so long as you still want me and I still want you, we will be just fine."
He laughs a little. "You make that sound awfully easy, David."
"That is because it is." She lays a hand on his upper arm and squeezes gently. "You know I am not some shrinking daisy who would let you abuse any power over me."
"The term you're looking for is shrinking violet, but… I do see your point."
Ziva's smile turns brighter and she slides her hand down his arm and into his own hand. "Good. Now the question is easy—your apartment tonight, or mine?"
"Sorry, can't, I have a work thing," he retorts, smirking, just to be an ass.
Ziva laughs. "Fine, then, no sex for you." She flips the emergency switch so the elevator will start moving again.
"Not so fast," Tony murmurs smoothly, stepping forward and letting go of her hand in order to pull her into his arms and nuzzle the back of her neck. "I might be able to rearrange my schedule a little."
The elevator reaches the ground floor and he lets go of her for the sake of keeping up professional appearances. As they move toward their respective cars, however, he says "my place" to her under his breath.
That evening finds them letting out all of their pent-up frustrations in Tony's bed. He's just happy to have sex with her again and has no plans to do anything particularly kinky tonight, but Ziva surprises him by pulling out her handcuffs and handing them to him with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. "You sure you want me to use these?" he asks her with raised eyebrows.
In answer, she lifts her hands above her head and rests them near the headboard, a clear invitation to cuff her to it. "Please," she says smoothly. Tony has to swallow hard so he can breathe again at the barrage of mental images that gives him, and he hastens to do as she's requested. He attaches her to the bed by her wrists and makes a big (joking) show of making sure they're secure. Then he engages in one of his favorite hobbies, kissing his way from her lips down her body to the sweet spot between her legs.
He's rather enjoying himself down there, and from the sound of it, she is, too. She loudly encourages him, egging him on, and it lulls him into a false sense of security. He's surprised, then, when he suddenly finds himself flipped down onto his stomach on the bed. The chain of Ziva's handcuffs is around his throat, and there's an astoundingly pretty Israeli on his back. "Did you do that with your thighs?" he squeaks, craning his head around to look at her. He's trying to work out not only how she got herself detached from the bed but also how she maneuvered him.
She laughs, triumphant. "Perhaps, but the how of it does not matter all that much. I did this to make a point, yes?"
"And what point would that be?"
She leans down to whisper in his ear. "That the balance of power can change very quickly, boss."
He shudders slightly, feeling further aroused. "Point taken, woman. Can you let me up now?"
She does, and shortly after, they make very good use of both the handcuffs and the bed that has been empty of Ziva for a month now.
It's three months later and in general, things are going great. Tony's really gotten into his groove with leading the team—Ziva and McGee are fantastic investigators, and even Probie Agent Lee is finding her footing. There are days when they group doesn't talk about Gibbs at all, though his absence is keenly felt most of the time.
Things are going great, that is, until the day that Tony gets back from Germany and Ziva doesn't come into work. He tells his team not to worry, that Ziva can take care of herself, and he does believe that… but he also believes that Ziva would let them know if she had a benign reason for not showing up. He thinks that at least she'd tell him, because they talk a lot these days. It only occurs to him later as a secondary consideration that she should let him know specifically because he's the team leader.
Besides calling her on his office phone and having his agents do the same, Tony texts Ziva twice, too. The first is early on, only an hour and a half after she should have come in, and it's teasing so he can have plausible deniability later. He knows she'll be angry with him if he implies at all that he has been worried about her because he thinks she can't handle herself.
Where r u? he types. McGee is getting annoying without u here to buffer.
There's no reply.
His second text is sent an hour later when everyone is starting to get really concerned. Tony starts thinking of calling area hospitals because it's so unlike Ziva to disappear without a word. Knowing he's getting a little ahead of himself, though, he pulls out his cell.
Please let us know ur ok. Worried here. Won't ask more questions if u don't want to talk, just tell me ur fine.
Several miles away, Ziva is too busy yelling at Michael Bashan to see the text come in.
"Did you or did you not sleep with him?" the man asks, looking entirely too shrewd for Ziva's liking.
"Who?" she answers, her voice soft with anger.
"Anthony DiNozzo, your new team leader." Michael's face says that he already knows.
The answer to Michael's question, of course, is yes, but Ziva is equal parts infuriated and suspicious of why the Mossad think that this could possibly be their business. Her private life is still her own, no matter who she works for. "Why do you ask that?"
"Starting three months ago, Ziva, he's been visiting your apartment at least one night a week."
Ziva snatches the folder Michael is holding and flips through photos clearly taken by someone who has been watching her for a long time. "My father has you spying on me?" she demands, tossing the file aside.
"I assumed that was the reason for your visit."
The absolute invasion of her privacy has Ziva seeing red, and for a minute, it has knocked the attack she witnessed right out of her brain. Now she's reminded of it and it demands her focus again, but she can't just let her father and Bashan's actions slide. She slams her hand down on the back of the sofa next to Michael's head and glares at him. "Who I do or do not sleep with is my business, Michael," she snarls. "Because I am not ashamed of it and because I know that this will get back to my father, I will tell you—yes, I have been sleeping with Tony DiNozzo. Yes, I will continue to do so. Yes, I will break your camera and your arm if I catch you spying on me from this point forward. Oh, and Officer Bashan?" He looks at her warily, and she smiles—it makes her look twice as deadly. "I am afraid you are slipping. It has been going on for far longer than three months."
Then she jumps back into demanding answers, feeling muted pleasure at having surprised Michael with her truthfulness. She isn't the same girl who her father could bend easily to his will for most of her life. Living alone in America and being adopted into her NCIS family has taught her that much, at least.
Later, when she calls Abby from Gibbs' house, she's starting to feel backed into a corner. Aware that she has not only pissed off her own embassy but also has the FBI—and, presumably, even her friends at NCIS—on the lookout for her, she feels more alone than she has in a long time.
"Gibbs?" Abby asks hopefully, picking up the phone.
Ziva hesitates for half a second before answering "Abby, it is Ziva."
"Ziva! Are you alright?"
"No, and don't say my name so loud." She feels exhausted, standing alone in an empty basement and having to worry about her friends finding out where she is.
"Sorry," Abby whispers. "Where are you?"
"At a safe place at the moment," Ziva assures the forensic scientist.
"The FBI was here and Tony was freaking out and the Director—"
"Abby, I need you to do a favor for me," Ziva interrupts.
"You name it."
"First, you cannot tell anyone I've spoken to you."
"Except Tony, right?"
Ziva swallows. "No. Not even Tony." That one hurts—she's become used to relying on Tony for many things, and this is one time that she would especially like to have him here, watching her back. "If I talk to him, he'll get in trouble with the FBI." She's well aware that she might be going down for this, but she won't bring her friends down with her. It's enough of a risk talking to Abby as it is.
Luckily, Abby doesn't question it. "What do you need?"
"A phone number," Ziva says after a pause. She quickly elaborates.
"Alright," Abby says, scribbling on a Post-It note. "I'll call you back at this number."
Within an hour, Ziva has Gibbs on the phone, and he agrees to fly back to Washington to see what he can do. Ziva's wildly grateful and she has never been so glad to have been assigned to work with NCIS. It doesn't matter how bleak and scary things look right now, because she has a family here.
Back at headquarters the next day, Tony gathers the cavalry. He knows Ziva is completely innocent, and he could not care less that he's risking losing his job or worse by defying direct orders and trusting her. She would do the same for him in a heartbeat, and now's the time to prove to her how much they all believe in her.
Finding out that Abby talked to Ziva already both annoys him and elates him, and he eagerly punches the number Abby gives him into his cell phone. It rings twice. "Well, there's no answer," he says impatiently. "Abby, are you sure that this—?" The call being picked up interrupts him. "Ziva."
Ziva's surprised to hear Tony's voice—it immediately makes her feel safer. There's more to worry about, though. "Tell Abby I'm going to kill her," she says dryly.
Tony sighs lightly. "We love you, too."
"I'm hanging up now," Ziva says. She's worried that someone will look into Tony's call history and see that they've spoken.
"No, you're not! You're going to tell me what the hell is going on here," Tony snaps in reply.
"Your phone could be tapped, Tony."
"Well, then, I'll come to you. I'm also trying to get ahold of Gibbs right now, but I'm not having any luck."
"Gibbs? Why didn't you say so?" She hands the phone over to her former boss.
"DiNozzo, you have ten seconds to tell me why I am not building a teak hot tub in Mexico." Gibbs pauses. "Nine…"
Ziva listens to the rest of the conversation with trepidation. It's only once the phone call ends that she realizes that Tony said he loved her. It was said in exasperation and annoyance and it was a "we" statement instead of an "I" statement, but… the thought warms her and steadies her all the same.
The feeling is increased when, while explaining the rest of the situation to Gibbs, Tony walks in. They bicker a little just like they always have, and Gibbs drinks Tony's coffee. "What's our plan?" the team leader asks.
Despite desperately wanting him here, Ziva has to put a stop to this. "Things are bad enough for NCIS as it is, Tony. You can't—"
"I don't remember asking your opinion, Officer David!" Tony interrupts loudly.
"You see?" Ziva says in exasperation to Gibbs, gesturing at Tony. "He has been completely insufferable since you left."
"Is that true, Tony?" Gibbs is clearly amused.
"When I need to be," Tony replies, but instead of talking to Gibbs, he's looking at Ziva as he says it. He would do a hell of a lot more than snap at her if it meant protecting her. It doesn't matter how much she wants to avoid getting him in trouble.
"Yeah? Hmm. Maybe you were the right man for the job." Tony tears his eyes away from Ziva's face to see that Gibbs is smiling. "Our plan is to find this guy before he gets out of the country."
They work on how exactly to accomplish that and they go off in separate directions to make it happen.
It's all progressing fine until the safe house blows. Tony hears about it from Sacks and his stomach drops to his feet, uncertain of whether his best friend and his mentor are alive or dead. That's it, he decides. He's going to Shepard and confessing to knowing where Ziva was earlier in the hopes that since there's little he can do, maybe Shepard has new ideas. Luckily, Ducky is there to give him a tough-love sort of pep talk, because his guilt level is off the charts. He should have been there with Ziva. It's his job to protect his people, because Gibbs left that responsibility behind months ago. Maybe if Tony had gone with her, she'd be fine instead of probably dead, killed in a fiery blast. He isn't certain that Gibbs is or was capable of protecting anyone. He's just explaining to Ducky why he's lost confidence when he hears Gibbs' voice behind him and his heart stops. Thrilled to see his former mentor and overjoyed to learn that both he and Ziva are alive and well, Tony is more than happy to accept Gibbs' keys and head off in search of the truck.
They use the dead guy from the safe house and the hits on McGee's BOLO to figure out where exactly Eschel is hiding, but just as Tony predicted, Ziva doesn't wait for them to go find the ex-Mossad. Tony's heart doesn't stop racing from the time Ziva hangs up on Gibbs to the time they burst into that hotel room and find her alive.
"Ziva, you okay?" McGee asks urgently.
"I'm okay, McGee," Ziva assures them quietly, staring down at the unconscious form of the Iranian operative and then over at Eschel's body.
"You should have waited," Gibbs tells her seriously. Feeling mildly shaky and a little sore from her recent fight, Ziva backs up to lean on the dresser rather than responding to that.
"Who's she?" Tony questions, gesturing to the woman on the ground.
"Iranian intelligence." Out of the corner of her eye, Ziva can see Tony and McGee's heads whipping up to stare at her. "They were behind it all."
"How do you plan on proving that?" Gibbs raises, his voice concerned.
There's a small smile on Ziva's bloody face. "I have been with NCIS for a year. I'm not just a killer anymore." She pulls up her shirt to reveal the recording unit she has taped to her stomach, and she unhooks it and tosses it to Tony. "I am an investigator." Tony looks up at her in surprise. "Now can I go home?" she requests.
Tony and Gibbs have something in common—neither could be more proud of her in this moment.