3-7

They woke up the next morning on the couch, wrapped around each other and covered in a blanket that had been draped across the back of the couch. Ziva lifted her head from Tony's chest and looked at him. He blinked and looked down at her, a tired smile creeping onto his face.

"Good morning," he whispered. He reached over and pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. She sighed and leaned into his touch.

"Yes, it is a very good morning indeed," she said. He moved her head up to place a gentile kiss on her lips.

"I would ask how you slept, but I know you did very little of that last night."

"And who is to blame for that?" she asked as she rolled on top of him.

"Ah, that would be you," he said, running his hands up and down her bare sides.

"I believe that you played a very big part in it also." She leaned down and kissed him quickly before jumping off of him.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked as she pulled his dress shirt onto her shoulders, not bothering with the buttons.

"I am hungry," she answered simply as she walked towards the kitchen. He quietly laughed to himself about her bluntness before standing his and grabbing his boxers. He followed her into the other room. She was rummaging through his cupboards, the shirt she was wearing hung loosely on her slender frame, reveling more then she was aware of.

Or maybe she is aware and is just doing that to torture me, Tony thought as he watched her skip around the kitchen.

"You have no food in here, Tony," she said, opening the fridge.

"I mostly eat at work or on my way to or from there," he shrugged.

"What about on weekends?"

"If they're not spent at work I just order a pizza."

"For breakfast?"

"Cold pizza in the morning, best and easiest meal in the world."

"Well, there is no cold pizza in your fridge and frankly I would not eat it if there was. We are going out. Go get ready while I head back to my place." As she walked by him she patted his chest, letting her hand linger for a bit longer then she would have the week before. She pulled on her pants and buttoned the shirt, putting on her jacket over everything.

"Hey, you still have my shirt," Tony called as she opened the apartment door.

"I know," she smiled and disappeared down the hall. He moved over to the window and watched as she walked to her car and then sped off down the road.

"Crazy ninja," he muttered before making his way to the bathroom.

Ziva wove her way through the steady flow of traffic, slowing only when she knew she wouldn't make it through the red light. She made the twenty-minute drive to her apartment in less than fifteen. Silently applauding herself she walked up to the door and unlocked it. Without even taking a look around she knew something was wrong. Instinctively she drooped her bag and pulled her gun out of her jacket pocket.

"NCIS!" she yelled as she made her way quickly and quietly through the apartment.

"Ziva?" came a familiar voice from the kitchen.

"McGee, what are you doing here?" she lowered her gun as he appeared in the doorway. He didn't say anything, but he slowly raised his hands and tripped forward slightly.

"A better question is why you were not here, Miss David." Ziva raised her gun again as a tall, bald man wearing a long black trench coat rounded the corner.

"Who are you?" Ziva snapped.

"Oh I'm insulted," the man mocked. "You do not recognize me, Ziva?"

"Who are you?" Ziva repeated through gritted teeth.

"Name's Malakai, Mal for short," Mal replied shortly.

"What do you want?" Ziva asked as soon as he had finished talking.

"You, of course."

"Why?"

"You killed my brother, Petty Officer Brian Rouse. I watched you do it. I want revenge." Ziva did a double take at his words. Patty Officer Rouse and his brother had been the lead suspect in the case they had closed two days before. Ziva had shot and killed Brian Rouse on the rooftop of a house in the military base he had been trying to blow up. Mal had escaped after setting off a decoy bomb.

"It was either I kill him, or he killed hundreds of innocent military families. It was an easy decision," Ziva said calmly, while at the same time choosing her words carefully.

"You think those people are innocent? They go over seas and murder people in a land they have no authority in."

"They kill the people who are a threat to the well being of others, others who did nothing to deserve that kind of horrible fate."

"How do you know that they didn't deserve to die?" Mal snapped.

"My sister did not need to die, but she did," Ziva snarled, turning the safety off on her gun. In response Mal pulled McGee in front of him, effectively shielding his body.

"Your sister was only one person, she didn't matter."

"Goose, McGee!" Ziva yelled.

"What? Oh," McGee quickly figured out what she meant and moved his head as much as he could seconds before a bullet, followed by another, went whizzing by him imbedding themselves in Mal's forehead. His grip immediately loosened around McGee before he completely let go and fell to the floor.

"Nice shot," McGee gasped, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Ziva walked over to him and looked down at the body, as McGee attempted to wipe some of the blood off his face.

"We should probably call someone," she said, ignoring his compliment. McGee nodded and pulled out his phone. Ziva did the same, walking into her bedroom for privacy.

'Something happened, will not be back anytime soon. Call when you get this;' she texted Tony.

Tony looked over at his phone when it buzzed, wondering who it was. He got up off the couch and grabbed it off the table next to the door. He almost dropped it when he read Ziva's message.

"Ziva?" he said into the speaker, seconds after seeing her message.

"I'm fine Tony," her voice sounded hushed. "There was just a small problem here."

"Define small problem."

"That Petty Officer that I shot the other day, his brother kidnapped McGee and held him hostage at my house."

"Where is he now?"

"McGee is calling for help."

"I meant the brother."

"Oh, he is dead on my kitchen floor."

"Ziva!"

"He was pointing a gun at McGee, what did you want me to do?"

"Why was McGee at your house anyway?"

"I do not know. We did not exactly have time for pleasantries."

"Never mind, I'll be over in a minute."