Chapter 7
A ringing woke McGee, who had fallen asleep with Ziva as exhaustion overtook them. He reached across Ziva's unconscious form and grabbed his cell, then flipped it open and quietly said, "McGee," before sliding out of bed, not wanting to disrupt Ziva's rest.
"Why are you whispering, McGee?" Tony's voice came over the line.
"Um, I . . . didn't want to . . . wake Jethro," he stuttered in response, grimacing at the bad answer. But he knew he couldn't say anything about Ziva being there, especially not to Tony. The man thought he had a monopoly on her heart. He would be angry and hurt if he found out he was wrong.
"Well, Probalicious, find a dog sitter or something. I need you to help me with something."
McGee glanced back at Ziva, his face wrinkled in concern as he asked, "What's up?"
Tony sighed. "Ziva was supposed to return from Israel today. I went over to her place to welcome her back, but she wasn't there. I tried calling her cell, but she didn't answer. I have no idea where she is, McGee. I called the airport and . . ."
"You want me to help you track down Ziva?" McGee asked, trying not to let his voice reveal how angry that idea made him. If Ziva were genuinely in trouble, then sure, he would definitely help in Tony's search. But as it was . . .
"Yeah, McGee, I'm worried about her."
McGee frowned. "She's a big girl, Tony. She can take care of herself." As he said that, Ziva stirred slightly and made a small noise of discomfort. McGee's frown deepened and he forced his attention back on the phone conversation, hoping to resolve things quickly so he could return to her.
"I know that, McGee," Tony said, voice tense. "It's just not like her."
"What isn't? Ignoring your phone calls?" Some of the anger he'd been trying to hide came out. He couldn't help it. Tony was just so . . . "If I remember correctly, you ignored a lot of her calls when you were undercover."
"Uh, yeah, because I was undercover, Probie," Tony's voice came back, just as annoyed. "Might've looked a bit odd to be talking to my NCIS partner when I was supposed to be a film professor." There was a pause, and McGee nearly retorted, but Tony continued before he could. "Whose side are you on, anyway, Probie?"
"Side?" McGee asked incredulously, stepping outside the bedroom. "Why should I have to pick sides, Tony? I didn't even realize there were sides to pick!"
Tony let out another sigh, this one more frustrated than worried. "Well, you seem to think I'm blowing things out of proportion . . ."
"Because you are, Tony," McGee interrupted softly.
"Well, if you're so convinced of that and so sure Ziva's just ignoring me, maybe you should try to contact her and get back to me, let me know what happens."
McGee froze, unsure of how to respond to that. He didn't have to "contact" Ziva; she was lying about 10 feet away from him in his bed. He didn't know what to tell Tony, not without giving Ziva away.
"What's going on, McGee?" Tony asked into the silence, sensing there was something McGee wasn't telling him. "Where's Ziva?"
McGee opened his mouth to respond with some smart ass comment, but a strangled cry stopped him short and he dropped the phone is his haste to get back to Ziva.
On Tony's end of the phone, his eyes widened as he heard the scream, and he barked into the phone, "Probie! McGee! Probie! What the hell was that? Probie! Answer me!"
Not receiving a response, he cursed to himself and turned off his phone, running out of the room and to his car, needing to get to McGee's apartment to make sure he was okay.
McGee, meanwhile, had run back into his bedroom to find Ziva curled up in a ball, whimpering into his pillow. He let out a sigh of relief. A nightmare. She was just dreaming. He walked to the bed and smoothed her hair, smiling slightly as she seemed to relax, seemed to realize, even in her dreaming state, that she was safe.
He suddenly cursed as he remembered the abandoned phone in the hallway and ran to pick it up, holding it and seeing that Tony had hung up on him. Crap. He probably thought something was wrong and . . .
"McGee! Open up!"
Holy crap. Was he calling from right outside the apartment building? Though he had been trying to track down Ziva, so he probably was still in Silver Spring . . .
"McGee, if you don't open up, I'm breaking down this door!"
McGee ran to the front door, yanking it open before he found himself having to explain to the landlord why he was missing a front door. "Quiet, Tony!" He pulled the older agent inside, closing the door behind him.
Tony looked around in confusion, before settling his gaze on McGee's face. "Mind telling me what's going on?"
"Tony," a sleepy voice came from behind them. McGee sighed as Tony turned to look at Ziva. "What are you doing here?"
Tony gave McGee a facetious smile, then looked back at McGee, saying, "I could ask you the same thing, Zee-vah." He shook his head, his gaze then falling on her suitcase, looking rather out of place propped against McGee's writing desk. "Oh. Oh. I get it now." He walked over to it, flicking the luggage tag hanging from the handle. "Planning on just moving in, then?" He looked up at McGee. "You'd probably be better off at her place, Probie. It's a lot bigger."
"Tony, stop it," McGee said, his voice and eyes both forceful.
"Okay," Tony said, nodding. "Sure. I'll just go home and let you two get back to keeping secrets from me, okay." He walked dramatically to the door.
"Tony, it's not like that," McGee said, while Ziva watched the exchange with just a little confusion.
"Oh, okay," Tony said, turning around. "So I suppose you were playing Scrabble or something and whoops, you just happened to fall asleep in McGee's bed. I hate when that happens."
McGee set his mouth in an angry line. "Tony . . ."
"You are right, Tony," Ziva said softly, having found her voice and figured out why Tony was so upset. "I came here tonight with one thing on my mind."
Tony gave her a look of surprise. "Didn't expect you to admit it that quickly, David."
"I was not finished, Tony," she continued, trying her best not to look at McGee, whom she was sure was giving her concerned looks. She took a deep breath and continued. "The man I was visiting in Israel was my step-brother. I returned tonight and took a cab here, looking to surprise McGee." A pained smile crossed her face as she remembered what had happened next. "I received a phone call just as I was about to knock on McGee's door. It was from Israel."
"Whoa, Ziva, don't tell me . . ." Tony said, his cocky and angry demeanor replaced with sympathy and apology.
Ziva stared at the door just past where Tony stood, her eyes blank and unfocused. "Michael is dead. Killed in a bombing, like Tali . . ."
"Ziva, I honestly didn't . . ." Tony started, his voice soft, walking towards her to offer comfort, but stopping short when he saw the defiant look on McGee's face and the look of loss on Ziva's.
Ziva finally looked up after a few tense minutes of silence. "I know you did not know, Tony. I am sure you would not have been so callous if you had, yes?" Her tone wasn't accusing or bitter, just matter-of-fact, which seemed to be harder to take.
"Yeah, yeah," Tony agreed quietly, nodding. "Um, I'm sorry, Ziva. About everything."
She gave him a small smile, but even though she was looking at him, she still wasn't really looking at him. "Thank you, Tony. But not everything that has happened tonight has been bad." She managed a small smile and looked at McGee.
Tony continued to look uncomfortable and nodded again, taking the hint that they'd been having a private night and saying, "Well, um, I suppose I should go now. I'm sorry about your brother, Ziva." He turned to the door.
"Wait," Ziva's voice stopped him, and McGee suddenly found himself feeling less sure of her feelings for him. She must have sensed his concern, because she reached over and touched his hand, assuring him that why she wanted Tony to wait had nothing to do with romantic interest.
Tony paused at the door and slowly turned around. The sight of Ziva's hand now gently resting in McGee's wasn't something he particularly wanted to see, but he swallowed and nodded, signaling he was ready for whatever Ziva had to say.
"I need to return to Israel for some time," she said. "There is the funeral, and I have to take care of some . . . other things that may take some time." She looked to McGee and he squeezed her hand.
Tony frowned, sensing there was even more she wasn't telling him. "Well, I'll cover for you with Gibbs, that isn't a problem, but somehow I think you're still leaving something out. I mean, McGee's gonna be here . . ." He trailed off as he realized what was going on. "No way," he said, his voice incredulous. "Gibbs will never agree to McGee going with you, Ziva."
"I have to go, Tony," McGee said, his voice soft, yet demanding. "There's more to this than meets the eye."
Tony gave McGee a look. "You don't say. What now? Don't tell me you two are getting married."
"No, Tony," Ziva assured him. She looked down briefly at her hand in McGee's, then back up at Tony. "I am going to become a mother."
