Thanks C!
One night stands are just that – one night. (Supposed to be, anyway.) Sure, it may take days or weeks of conversation to make this one night happen but usually it ends up favorable. Except when it doesn't. For example, last year I may have turned my charm-o-meter up a few notches when I spoke to a particular barista – there is nothing wrong with that. Except when there is.
Enter Brenda Bittner. I would see her pretty much everyday when I stopped in for my morning cup of joe. One day, she was brazen enough to scribble a little message on my cup and then the next day, her phone number. I thought it would be unwise to ignore her advances. In hindsight, I should have held it together and ignored it but where is the fun in that? But then she went on to post publicly that we were in a committed relationship; do you know what that does to a man's reputation? It was not good. Luckily, I managed to control the situation. So when I hear the news that she's wrapped her car around a tree and thereby checked into a depression treatment facility, I get to wondering; Why didn't I see any signs? Would I have done anything different?
Instead of dwelling on the situation, I decided work would keep my mind off of it. I really don't like paperwork, there are so many other things, better things – but since I'm turning over a new leaf, I have to face my fears. I got to the office early to finish up the reports that have been taking up space in my desk for three months. While still not thinking about it, I update McGee's expense reports from his jaunt in the Great White North. Last time, I re-classed his meals into livestock feed. I would like to do it again, but I think that may be overkill. And today, I'm not joking. I know it's bad when I have no movies to compare this experience. This too shall pass.
I've notice that District Attorney Walsh has been looking at me with an 'I want to talk to you' face. I'm not interested; we have a crime scene to canvass, a witness to find and holiday turkey to bag – Maybe the former Tony would, but not today. Then she does it, in front of everyone – claiming boxes are heavy and I should help her. She wants me to help her carry file boxes. I see where she's going with this. She's been carrying around those files since before she met me, she can manage. Underneath Timmy's scrawny figure, there has to be a bicep or two. She is a redhead, maybe Gibbs will lend a hand. Doubtful but the Boss Man still has the moves.
Back in the Navy Yard, we are watching the District Attorney wait for Gibbs. . . Once she and Gibbs start going back and forth, Ziva silences the noise. Thank god, I could feel headache was appearing. She points out that this is usually my favorite part; reality television at work. Not today. She's been taking mental notes about me not cracking jokes for two days, for being serious, for coming in and doing my job and for changing so fast. Maybe Ziva's the only one who can see through it. The only one I can tell. She's right, my job is to help people who are in trouble. Maybe I just didn't want to see what was happening. I don't know, perhaps I'll never know.
She gently rests her hand over my heart. My heart beats faster as if her hand has some magnetic force and I can't resist the pull. "You need to be who you are."
"Who am I?" I can feel the tears wanting, for the moment, to flow down. No. Not now. Not here. Yet somehow, if I couldn't stop them, Ziva is the only person I would want to see them.
"You are. . . Tony DiNozzo. The class clown. That is why we love you." Love. . . a word that does not often escape my lips or Ziva's, for that matter. Maybe we are changing. I want to say something but then I hear the door open and one of the tech's walks in. I cough to regain my composure. Saved by the door. Eventually, we have to talk.
Enter Agent EJ Barrett. I am pleasantly intrigued by her. The first time I saw her; actually, I heard her first – Ziva and I were going through some information on the case of the dead NCIS agent. We were talking over some details and EJ just started talking to us. I knew that Ziva was annoyed right away but I thought it was refreshing. The jury's still out on whether I just liked it for the sole reason that she was already under Miss David's skin. EJ just walks in, claims her desk and starts shuffling it around, complaining about the light, too. Clearly, EJ doesn't mince words.
Ziva had this look on her face, a look I know all too well instintively I grab her arm and tell her that McGee and Abby probably need us. She resists as she still has her sights set on EJ. She doesn't say anything as we descend down the stairs to the lab. Ziva just looks at me then at the ground then back at me. Words are forming in the brain, I can tell she's trying really hard not to go berserk in Hebrew. I laugh on the inside because I fear what Ziva might do. For some reason, I could picture Ziva and EJ fighting. Maybe it's just been a fantasy of mine.
So, EJ is the Team Leader from Rota, Spain. Rota, the job promotion I passed up. So this is who took my job instead. I'm happy I stayed here with the team, really I am. I never told anyone that Director Shepard offered me the position. There was no point; Gibbs had just come back from Mexico, McGee and Ziva were here, I couldn't do it. Do I sometimes wish I had taken it? Do I regret it? Sometimes.
Maybe it's because EJ's the new girl on the block. Maybe it's because Ziva has her friend in Miami. Maybe it's because I'm sick of one night stands. Maybe I just want someone new to talk to. Whatever it may be, I just want more than one night.