Ziva saw two large men break through the treeline, looking around before leaning against trees. She held her breath-one was leaning on the opposite side of the very one Damon was using as cover! And while the timber was massive, it was only a matter of feet if the man chose to look around it.
Thankfully, the man took no precautions, taking out a cell phone and pressing a number on speed dial. "It is done," he said in French, his voice heavily accented, but she could not pinpoint exactly where, which bothered her immensely.
"Yes. Drop off at the agreed upon location and time." He listened, then said something so low she couldn't hear it. Looking to his partner angrily, he jerked his head and they travelled down the trail. Silently, Ziva made her way effortlessly down the maze of branches until she felt Damon take her weight easily, his hands around her waist, and set her on the ground.
"Did you understand any of that?" he asked seriously, his eyes troubled.
"Yes. And it did not sound good. He said 'it's done.'"
"That sounds ominous," he tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Ziva had to agree, and she said so.
She sighed. "I should probably call Gibbs and let him know."
"Let me guess, there goes the afternoon off, huh?"
This time it was her turn to wince. "Yes, most likely." She dialed and reported to him what exactly had happened, minus her playing Tarzan, and what she'd heard the man say. Gibbs listened, made uh-huh noises, but otherwise said nothing for a long time.
"Hang low for a while, Zive, and make sure you and Worth stick together. You're safer like that for right now. Understand?"
"Yes, of course." Not really, but that was more because it was the last thing she had expected him to say.
"Good. I'll see you in 24 hours. Got it?"
"Yes, Gibbs. I'll be fine." She smiled, thought he couldn't see it.
"Good." He hung up, and Ziva tucked her phone into her pocket, relaying he message to Damon.
While he looked a little shocked at first, he made up for it quickly. Smiling, he shook his head. "You know, we seem to have a problem meeting. First, I'm more drugged than a cancer patient, then you're half-deaf from flash grenades, and now I've been knocked on my-" he cut off abruptly, censoring that part, "back...and now this." He laughed.
Ziva grinned, in spite of the situation. "Well, if you don't mind getting knocked on your...back...then this should be no problem. After all, I did happen to think that I was Tarzan and swing from a tree. So what could this do?"
Damon looked thoughtful for a moment. "I dunno, I thought that was kind of cool." Her look must have shown her disbelief, because he shrugged. "I'll have to try it sometime."
Ziva laughed now, looking from the tree to him. "I don't mean to be rude, but that tree cannot possibly handle you..." she waved her arms around.
"Going Tarzan on it?" he supplied for her sweetly.
She narrowed her eyes at him, managing to only urn a little red. "Yes, fine, 'going Tarzan on it.'"
Damon looked about to say something, then stopped. He cocked his head to the side, then dove for her. This time, when they fell, they rolled to the side, a shot echoing and missing the spot where he had been standing. More shots peppered the area, following after them in a beeline. She felt a bullet shred through skin and a bit of muscle, heard Damon's breath being sucked in as one brushed him as well, and the they stopped abruptly, his broad back hitting a tree with enough force to jar her teeth, let alone his.
Training took over and they both ignored any pain they felt, getting up and running towards the parking lot down below, staying out of sight and running like mad when they couldn't. Her car was closer, and she unlocked it in the run, jumping into the driver's seat while Damon slammed into his with enough force to make the entire frame rattle and shake dangerously. Ziva didn't pause as bullets hit the windshield, instead whipping he car into a tight o turn that banged him against the door. Needless to say he buckled up quickly.
It was only by skill on Ziva's part that the sniper missed hitting the tires, and even then it was close. She sped out of the park and only slowed for regular, oncoming traffic.
"You drove here, I'm assuming?" she said, calming her breath slowly. When he didn't answer right away she turned to look at him. He looked a little nauseous. "Are you alright?"
"Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?" he asked, finally loosening taut muscles and closing his eyes.
She grinned wickedly. "Mossad did not take the speed limit seriously during a firefight."
He looked over at her and saw her smile. "They obviously had never put a woman on a rampage behind the wheel before, either."
"I was not on a-" she turned as well and saw him smiling. She laughed. "Okay, I might have been a little fast, but I was not on a rampage." She grinned evilly now, and he saw it. "Ask Tim and Tony sometime what their first-and fortunately only-experience of my driving was like." She glanced at him. "At least you kept your stomach inside if you."
Damon laughed, shaking his head at her sharp sense of humor.
"Okay, can see that. And yes, to answer your question, I drove." He sobered quickly. "Shit. My car."
"Yes, that was my thought as well." Her eyes constantly glanced around in the mirrors, making sure they were not being followed. "You cannot go back to your house. Thy will follow you there. Is there someplace you can stay?"
"We, and no. I may not be under his thumb, but I know an order when I hear one, and Gibbs said to stick together, so consider us stuck."
She grinned. "It had slipped from my mind. Thank you. Alright, my apartment it is. After we get done sewing ourselves back together, I can cook dinner."
He looked at her, a combination of surprised and wary. "You cook?" The words he didn't say-but she still heard-were is it edible?
She flicked a superior look towards him. "Yes, I cook. And I do it well, thank you very much. Why is this so surprising?"
Damon chuckled. "I've just never met a warrior woman who knows how to cook. Then again, I never met a woman I could call a warrior before you period."
Ziva felt her insides do a funny roll at the odd compliment and smiled. "Thank you, Damon. I don't think anyone has said something like that to me in quite some time."
"You're welcome, Ziva."