Chapter 11
"Now boarding: Flight 246 to Tel Aviv, Israel."
McGee tapped Ziva on the shoulder. "That's us," he said. She nodded absently, ignoring him. He let out a sigh and tried again. "Ziva."
She looked up at him this time. "Yes?"
He pointed at the gate they needed to be. "We're loading."
"Oh!" she said, standing and grabbing her carry-on. "I am sorry. I was thinking about something else." She let out a breath. "Shall we?"
"Yeah," McGee said, now a bit distracted himself. He frowned. "You okay, Ziva?"
She sighed. "I am fine, Tim," she said, walking towards the gate. "There is simply a lot to think about, that is all."
McGee nodded slightly. He believed her, of course, but still felt like she was holding back. "Well, I just want you to know . . ."
She turned, placing a hand on his chest. "I'll come to you if I need to. Don't worry." She smiled at him, dropping her hand, only to place it in his. He smiled back at her and they continued the walk to the boarding area hand in hand, their only concerns now making it to Israel safely and making sure Micah and Sari were being treated well.
As McGee and Ziva were boarding the plane to Israel, life as normal was continuing at NCIS. Well, as close to normal as it could get without McGee and Ziva, anyway.
Gibbs was up in Vance's office, probably having the argument of a lifetime with the Director, while Tony sat at his desk, shooting glares at his teammates' desks. They were currently unoccupied and waiting for the agents Gibbs had requisitioned to fill them. He was just about to throw another wad of paper at McGee's empty desk chair when a voice made him look up.
"Hey, Tony."
He let out a sigh as Abby approached him, looking slightly timid. "Hey, Abbs," he said, his voice dull. "I take it you heard the news?"
"Uh, yeah," she said, holding up McGee's extra key. "I'm watching Jethro for McGee while he's gone . . ."
Her words faded into nothingness as Tony suddenly slammed his fist down, then looked up at Abby, a deceiving look of calm on his face. "Did you know about this?" he asked, his voice relaying the same deceptive level of calm.
Abby shook her head slowly. "No, Tony. It just happened . . ."
"You think that's supposed to make me feel better, Abby?" he interrupted, glaring at her.
Abby set her mouth in a line. "This isn't about you, Tony. Ziva lost her brother."
"Step-brother," Tony corrected, still glaring.
Abby rolled her eyes. "Fine. Step-brother. The point is, someone died and all you can do is sit here and be angry because Ziva didn't come to you." Abby's eyes were boring holes into Tony's head, and he looked away from her, his jaw set. Abby's expression softened slightly. "You know I'm right, don't you?"
"What I know, Abby," Tony hissed, looking back to her, "is that my team is keeping secrets from me." He continued to stare at her, his ears practically emitting steam.
"You're one to talk about keeping secrets, DiNozzo," a new voice broke into the conversation.
Tony stood then, straightening his sport coat. "What's the verdict, Boss?"
Gibbs gave him a look. "The 'verdict,' DiNozzo? Ziva's gone for a funeral. End of story." He walked to his desk, Tony gawking at his back. He took a gulp of coffee and turned around, giving Tony a challenging look. "What? You want me to punish her for picking McGee over you?"
Tony gave a bitter laugh. "Why does everyone assume that's the reason I'm upset? I simply don't like being kept out of the loop, that's all."
Abby continued to cower in the background, her arms wrapped around her middle. "We're not blind, Tony. Or stupid," she said quietly.
He whipped his head around to look at her. "I never insinuated you were, Abby," he said stiffly, causing Gibbs to take a step forward.
"This isn't Abby's fault, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, his tone threatening. He turned his attention to Abby. "Go to your lab," he said softly. She hesitated and he sighed. "You heard me. I'll be there in a minute." This time, Abby did skitter away, as Gibbs turned back to Tony.
"Didn't want to hit me in front of a woman?" Tony asked, glaring.
"Never stopped me before," Gibbs said. They had a staring match for a moment before Gibbs asked, "What the hell is your problem, DiNozzo? Ziva is not a piece of property . . ."
"I know that, Boss," Tony said, his voice softer than it had been.
"So stop acting like she belongs to you," Gibbs finished sternly, then turned and walked to the elevator, punching the button forcefully and leaving Tony standing with a grim look on his face.
As he reached Abby's lab, Gibbs did his best to replace the menacing look on his face with something softer. He walked in and found her sitting in front of a computer, chin resting on her palms, just sitting and staring ahead.
"Hey," he said, but she didn't make any move to acknowledge his presence. He let out a breath and walked up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder.
"I don't like when Tony's like this," Abby started, not moving her head from her hands. "It's like he's not . . . Tony. And I know he cares, or else he wouldn't get so upset in the first place, but this isn't about him!" She turned then, looking at Gibbs. "Ziva and Tim . . . Gibbs, they really care about each other. I can tell. I just wish Tony could see that, too."
Gibbs sighed and ran a hand over her hair, then rested it on her shoulder as she leaned her head against his side. "He'll come around, Abbs."
"He better," she mumbled. "'Cause that's what I told Timmy and Ziva and I'd hate to have them be mad at me."
Gibbs smiled, but it was laced with a tinge of sadness. "I'll take care of it, Abbs."
Abby jumped to her feet then, throwing her arms around Gibbs and giving him a tight hug. "I know you will, Gibbs." She pulled away and looked him in the face. "Just don't go too hard on him, okay? Because he really does care, you know. He just doesn't know how to show it." She resumed the hug. "You're the best, Gibbs."
He patted her absently on the back, his mind not on her or the two agents he had half a world away, but the one he'd left upstairs with a look of steel in his eyes. It was essentially up to Tony to change his attitude, but he was the only one Tony would listen to in order to get there. It would be a long and most likely agonizing journey, but it was one he needed to take, in order for all of them to make it through this unscathed.
Breaking out of Abby's grasp, Gibbs exited the lab and headed for the elevator, knowing his best plan of action for the time being was to return to the squad room, sit down at his desk, and get on with the day.
Tony couldn't stay angry forever. He simply didn't have it in him. He would eventually come to terms with what had happened, and feel like an ass for treating Ziva the way he had.
The only thing left to wonder was how long that would take, and if it would happen before Ziva and McGee returned from Israel.
For everyone's sakes, Gibbs hoped it would.
. . .
"Zivaleh," Eli David greeted his daughter. He patted a fingertip to his cheek. Ziva raised up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then pulled back. He gave her a sad smile. "I am very glad to see you could . . ." His voice slowed as McGee entered the room, rolling a large suitcase behind him. He looked back to Ziva, finishing. "Make it." He gave her a forced smile. "You brought a friend?"
Ziva let out a sigh. She was prepared for this, and had warned McGee about it, as well. Her father had ideas about what was best for her, and American men, particularly non-Jewish ones, were not it. "Yes, Papa," she finally said. "This is one of my partners at NCIS . . ."
"Timothy McGee," Eli finished, a smug look on his face. He clasped his hands together in front of him, not making any attempt at welcoming the wide-eyed young man. "I'm very familiar with your co-workers, Zivaleh."
McGee frowned slightly at that information, but attempted to remain polite and respectful as always. "It is nice to meet you, Deputy Director David. Uh, I wish, um, that it were under other circumstances, though. I'm sorry about your stepson."
Eli pursed his lips and nodded. "Thank you for the condolences, Agent McGee. And thank you for accompanying my daughter to Israel. I presume you came because she trusts you?" McGee opened his mouth to respond, but Eli continued, cutting off any words he may have said. "I must say, I am a bit surprised to see you here, Agent McGee. I expected Ziva to bring someone, but I expected your other partner, Agent DiNozzo, is it?"
McGee paled as Ziva hissed under her breath at her father. "Papa, please!"
McGee put a hand on her arm and she turned to look at him, her eyes wild with apology. "No, it's okay, Ziva. I understand." He looked up, at her father again. "You asked me to come with you, not Tony. So I'm here."
Eli raised an eyebrow, not having expected that reaction from someone of McGee's nature. "Touché, Agent McGee. Clearly she must care for you a great deal."
Ziva rolled her eyes at the conversation. This was turning into a battle of who was best for her, who cared for her more, when it should not be about her at all, but rather Michael, and Micah and Sari. She cleared her throat and spoke. "How are the children holding up?"
Eli turned his gaze from McGee to Ziva, his expression softening a tiny bit. "Carmela is looking after them."
"That is not what I asked, Papa," Ziva said softly, though her words were still forceful.
Eli chuckled. "Still as feisty as ever, I see. Some things never change."
"I just left here," Ziva said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you expect me to be that different?"
Eli simply raised his eyebrows at her, then reached inside his sport coat and withdrew a key, holding it out for her to take. "I am sure Carmela can fill you in." Ziva reached out for the proffered key, but Eli held it out of her grasp, his eyes narrowed in thought. "You seem awfully interested in the children's welfare."
McGee narrowed his own eyes as Ziva avoided her father's gaze, choosing to look at the floor instead. "Of course," she said. "They are my niece and nephew."
Eli took a step toward her. "There is more to it than that, Zivaleh."
"Give me the key, Papa," Ziva said, holding out her hand. She raised her eyes to her father's face then, and a brief flicker of emotion passed over his face as he placed the key in her palm, but he didn't say anything. Ziva turned and faced McGee. "Come on, Tim. I want to go see my family."
She walked past him, her hand brushing his, and his eyes widened slightly as he looked from her to her father, giving Eli a small nod before turning to follow Ziva out of the house.
He jogged to catch up to her, muttering, "Wow. I can see why you wanted to get back to the U.S."
Ziva stopped in front of their rental car, placing a hand on the hood, then speaking. "I am sorry about my father. I . . . He does not know about Michael's request."
"I kinda figured that out, Ziva," McGee said, coming up behind her and gently touching her back.
But instead of relaxing into his touch or turning to face him, as he expected her to do, Ziva jerked at his touch and walked away, opening the driver's side door of the rented Mini and climbing inside, avoiding McGee's eyes once she was inside.
McGee frowned and looked over his shoulder back at the house, his frown deepening as he watched the den curtains flutter back into place. He wasn't about to stand by and watch as this chance was taken away from Ziva . . . from them. Her father was nothing to him, not when it came to Ziva and what she wanted and needed.
Nothing was going to stop him from making sure Ziva was the happiest she could be.
He shook his head at the house and walked around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and joining Ziva inside. He looked at her and reached over, taking her hand. She looked momentarily surprised, but then relaxed and smiled, squeezing his hand back before turning her attention to starting the car.
McGee looked out the windshield and nodded at her father's house. They were going to see Ziva's family. Her real family.
