A/N: After the chapter.
Tuesday, December 15 2015
Tony stood in front of the open fridge door and stared down at the contents dejectedly. He hadn't had dinner while he was at work, so now his stomach was grumbling and complaining about being empty. But he knew from decades of experience that if he ate a meal now, just an hour before his planned bedtime, he wouldn't sleep well. A snack would be better, and given the state of the fridge (almost as empty as his stomach), a snack seemed more likely. But all the only things of offer was some left over curry from two days ago that he'd hated, condiments, beer, butter, and the last sufganiyot left over from Hanukkah. He knew he should leave that for Ziva. She loved those things. But it was either that or eat flour from the cupboard.
"Sorry, sweetcheeks," he muttered under his breath, and reached for the donut. She'd understand. Maybe. He paused with the container in his hand and thought it over. It was after 2100 and he knew she'd been on scene all day. Depending on the condition of the scene and the body, Ziva would either be sickened and not in the mood for eating, or tired and ravenous.
Okay. He could compromise.
He carried the container over to the counter, grabbed a knife, cut the donut in two and returned half of it to the fridge. He got a beer to wash his half down with, and then headed to the living room to settle in, savor the deep fried sugary deliciousness, and catch up on world events that he hadn't been keeping track of for the last couple of days.
As soon as he turned the news on his brain almost checked out completely. It wasn't that he didn't have an interest in world affairs. He just had more of an interest in making plans in his head for taking a break from work. It wasn't even Christmas yet and this winter was shaping up to be even worse than last year's. It had been snowing since the end of November, the long-term forecast was for a couple of heavy falls through to March, and God only knew how many dead sailors would pile up between now and then. Tony loved his job, but he was fast approaching his limit for murder this season, and it had only just begun.
He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the couch cushions. Where would he rather be? Somewhere warm, was the obvious answer. Hot was better. But not desert hot. He hated the desert. No, it had to be somewhere balmy with water and bikinis and fruity little cocktails with umbrellas in them. Somewhere in the South Pacific. He and Ziva could spend a couple of weeks on an island thawing out, recharging and maybe making some progress on that baby idea they'd floated a couple of times. He felt himself smile, even if he knew it was unlikely to happen. The vacation, that was. He still had hopes for the baby.
He drifted off to a half sleep then, thinking about family and future. But he was still vaguely aware of the news in the background and the half bottle of beer balancing against his chest. He kept pulling his chin back up every time it dropped too low, and he made a few attempts to open his heavy eyes. But he remained in that weird place between sleep and awake with half dreams/half thoughts in his head about swimming in a warm ocean and kissing hot, salty skin right up until he heard the front door close. The sound brought him awake, but his eyes were still too heavy to open as he listened to Ziva's footsteps coming up the hardwood hallway. Then the footsteps stopped and he listened to the swish of her clothes as she crossed the rug towards him.
"Mgh," he grunted when she took the bottle of beer out of his hand.
Ziva chuckled and leaned over to kiss his slack lips. "You will make a mess on yourself," she whispered.
Tony swallowed, licked his lips and made a Herculean effort to open his eyes. He looked up to see Ziva casting a glance at the television as she drank down half the remaining beer. He acknowledged the feeling of relief in his chest that he felt every night when she came home safe, and then yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "I was having a dream-thought," he told her.
Ziva looked down at him with guarded eyes. She smiled at him with affection he knew was real, but he guessed that she had something else on her mind. "You were dreaming of having a thought?" she teased, and then leaned down to kiss him again. "Keep trying. You will have a real thought one day."
He tugged on the belt of her winter coat until she dropped onto the seat beside him, and then put his arm around her shoulders to hug her closer to him. "I had a half dream, half thought about going to an island in the South Pacific and spending a couple of weeks swimming, sleeping and screwing."
Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. "In that order?"
"Not necessarily."
She hummed. "Sounds wonderful."
"I know."
"And very dream-like."
He pressed his lips to her cool curls. "Maybe not. Gibbs'll still have McGee and McGee's partner to keep him company."
Ziva chuckled at his reference to 'McGee's partner' instead of Quinn. She thought he liked Quinn as a person, just not as Ziva's partner. Because that was who Tony was.
"Maybe," Ziva said. "In the new year."
"I'm holding you to it," Tony told her. They both knew he wouldn't. "There's half a donut in the fridge if you want it."
"Is that all?"
"I think I saw mustard, too. We need to do some grocery shopping." He rubbed her arm. "You want me to order you a pizza or something?"
Ziva shook her head against him. "No. Not hungry."
Tony knew what that meant. The good news was that he'd be able to eat the rest of the donut himself. The bad news was that Ziva had caught a rough case. "What happened?"
For a while, Ziva stayed quiet. He had learned in their time that this didn't mean she wasn't going to tell him, or wanted him to drop it. But when she responded it was clear that she wasn't quite ready to talk about it. "Can we talk about your day first?"
"Sure," he said, and took the beer back from her to take a drink. "We found a foot."
Ziva tilted her head back to look at him and frowned. "A foot?"
"Mhmm."
"Just one foot?" she checked. "Not a pair?"
"A lonely man's size 14," he told her.
Ziva made a face, and then leaned forward and away from him to open her coat and wrestle her way out of it. "Where?"
"Rock Creek Park," he said, and helped her free her left elbow.
Ziva tossed the coat over an armchair beside the couch and then bent to take off her boots. She looked over her shoulder at him. "How did Celia like that?"
Tony smirked, but gave her a vaguely admonishing look. Celia Blake was Tony's senior field agent. She had 10 years at NCIS and the FBI under her belt and had worked everything from murder to narcotics to white collar crime and intelligence. But she had a tendency to get a bit squeamish with the grizzlier crime scenes.
"She did fine," Tony told her.
"Any idea who the foot belongs to?"
"A pirate?" Tony guessed.
Ziva chuckled and nudged her boots under the coffee table. "Why is it NCIS's case?"
"Dog tags stuffed in the shoe," he told her. "But the guy to whom the dog tags belong is alive and well and is walking on his own two feet."
"Hunh." She shifted and turned on the couch to face him, and regarded him with eyes that were sad and perhaps a little scared. He put his hand on her knee and waited, and Ziva dropped her head and covered his hand with hers.
"Bad one?" he guessed.
"Yes," she said roughly, and then lifted her head again. "Bonnie Stewart."
The name tugged something in Tony's memory, but for a few moments he couldn't quite pull it free. When finally he did, he understood the look on Ziva's face. His heartbeat quickened and he felt his stomach roll with nausea as he recalled that time in their lives. His first instinct was to grab Ziva and hold on to her, but if she wanted that she would have come to him already. He held back, took a breath and squeezed her knee.
"Damn it," he sighed. "How did she die?"
Ziva dragged her free hand through her hair, and all of a sudden looked ten times more tired than she had five minutes ago. "Ducky will do the autopsy in the morning," she told him, her voice thick. "But she had a lot of bruises around her neck…" Her voice trailed off, and Tony couldn't hold back any more. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, and felt relief when Ziva leaned into the embrace. When things got personal—and this case would definitely be personal—Ziva had a tendency to withdraw from everyone and go take on the world by herself. God, when they first met Bonnie, Tony was sure that he and Ziva were still trying to deal with a time when she'd done just that. But if he held on to her now, right at the beginning, and if she let him do it, he knew there was a good chance that she'd let him stay there until the end.
She breathed deeply into his neck and said, "I am all right."
Tony kissed her cheek, and then pulled back just far enough so they could talk. "Why was NCIS called?"
Ziva gave him a weak but proud smile. "She had just completed her training to become an agent," she told him. "She was going to start at Norfolk in January."
Despite the circumstances, Tony smiled. He remembered Bonnie being pretty tough, with a very clear desire for justice. When they'd met more than two years ago, Bonnie had been studying public relations at college, and she'd never mentioned anything about being interested in law enforcement. But he knew that Ziva had left an impression on her. The idea that his partner might have inspired someone to step up and become a federal agent filled him with pride.
"Good for her," he said.
Ziva's smile dropped. "For what it is worth now."
"Ziva," he sighed, and rubbed her shoulder. "Did you tell Gibbs what happened?"
She swallowed hard and looked down at her lap. "No, but I expect he will find out. Me and McGee told him that she had been our client, back in the day."
Tony lifted his hand to touch her cheek, and Ziva lifted her gaze again. "Yeah," he said. "She was our first."
Wednesday, June 26 2013
Bonnie Stewart had the kind of features that would make her look naturally happy, even if she was sad. A delicate nose and cheekbones, bright blue eyes and lips that naturally turned upwards. She had the complexion of a porcelain doll, and her pale blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail. She was a little shorter, a littler curvier, and perhaps ten years younger than Ziva. When she turned up to meet the team, she was wearing a sleeveless, knee-length dress that showed off a striking, watercolor-like tattoo running across her shoulder.
Bonnie brought her friend, Kavita, with her to meet with Ziva, Tony and McGee. At first, Tony thought that was because she needed her friend's support. Not long into their conversation, though, he started wondering if Kavita was there to keep her from jumping out of her chair and demanding immediate action. Because Bonnie Stewart was pissed.
"This piece of crap jerk wad won't leave me alone," she told the team, her voice filling the basement that the team had converted into their office space. "I've told him nicely, I've told him firmly, I've told him impolitely in text, email, Facebook and face-to-face to get away from me, but he's not listening. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? Start a thread on Reddit?"
Tony wasn't completely sure what Reddit was, but he got the gist of her complaint. "I assume you've spoken to the police before coming here?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes, seemingly unimpressed with the service she'd received from the boys in blue. "They said that because I didn't have any firm evidence of what he's been doing, there wasn't much they could do. But that if he approached me and I felt threatened I should call 911."
"If he doesn't kill her before she gets to her phone," Kavita added bluntly.
Tony looked between Ziva and McGee. Ziva was sitting beside him on one side of the small conference table they'd squeezed in between two other desks, some shelves and filing cabinets in Ziva's basement. McGee was at the end of the table with a laptop in front of him, ready to take notes. Both McGee and Ziva gave him discreet nods when he met their eyes, deferring to him to take the lead on questioning. He knew they'd both jump in when they wanted to.
"Okay. Why don't you start from the beginning?"
Bonnie took a deep breath to calm herself, folded her hands in her lap, and started giving them the facts. "A couple of months ago I was out with Kavita and some other friends when I met this guy, Eddie Hertzog." She passed her cell phone over to him, and Tony looked at the displayed photo of a relatively good-looking guy with dark blonde hair and an even white smile.
"How long is a couple of months?" Tony asked, and passed the phone to Ziva.
Bonnie looked over to Kavita as she thought is over. "It was about a week after Thanksgiving," she said, and Kavita nodded when it sounded right to her. Bonnie looked at the team with a touch of apology. "I can't remember the date, exactly. I'm not really an anniversary kind of girl."
Tony's eyes flicked in Ziva's direction, and he caught a hint of a smile on her lips as she related. Tony held his smile back. "So, about seven months."
Bonnie nodded. "Right. We met at this bar, Pangaea. He was with his friends, I was with mine. We'd never met before. But we kept running into each other that night and eventually started talking. He seemed nice and normal and funny. We had a lot in common. I didn't get a weird vibe from him at all."
"You started seeing each other," Ziva said.
"Yeah. A lot. Probably too much and too fast." Bonnie sighed and shook her head at herself. "If I'd just taken things slower, I wouldn't be in this mess."
"Bonnie, if he is stalking you then it is not your fault," Ziva told her, drawing Tony's gaze. "Abusive men can work quickly to begin manipulating you, and you often do not notice until a specific event. It is what they plan for."
Something twisted in Tony's gut at hearing her speak about it as if she were an expert. But he kept his cop face in place and looked for Bonnie's reaction. Their new client visibly relaxed as she listened to Ziva, and it was clear that she'd just found the level of understanding that she'd been hoping for. She gave Ziva a little smile of thanks and then went on.
"I guess. Anyway, everything was fine for the first month. Great, even. We had a blast on New Year's." A smile flashed over her face, but fell away quickly. "But one day I was getting ready to meet Kavita for lunch, and he seemed to get annoyed that I was, I don't know, picking her over him or something."
Tony nodded at the familiar story. If he had a dollar for every abuse case that started that way, he'd be a rich man. A disgusted, but rich, man.
"I met Kavita anyway," Bonnie told them. "But when I saw him next he was really mad about it. My gut said it just wasn't right, and I wanted to break up with him right then. But somehow he talked his way out of his behavior."
"He's good at talking his way out of things," Kavita said. "Good at being charming."
"And that behavior continued?" Tony asked.
Bonnie made a face like that wasn't quite right. "Not right away," she said. "But over time, yeah. It did. I guess he seemed like he'd heard me when I said I didn't like him being like that, because he didn't get, like, overtly angry with me if I made plans without him. But somehow he just started making me feel guilty about it." She paused and heaved a sigh. "Then the phone calls started. Dozens a day where he'd ask where I was and who I was with and what I was doing. He left voicemails and sent texts, and I guess for a while it made me feel like he was just really into me. But when I went to a movie with Kavita and turned my phone off—I frigging hate people who are on their phone all the way through a movie."
"God, me too," Tony said.
"At the end of the movie I had, like, 20 missed calls, five voicemails and about 20 text messages from him."
"She was only unreachable for two hours," Kavita said, trying to underline the craziness in case the others missed it.
"It's excessive," Tony agreed. "Did you confront him about it?"
Bonnie gave a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, and he twisted it so that I was in the wrong for not letting him know where I was and letting him think that I'd been killed in a car accident or something."
McGee looked up from the notes he was typing into Bonnie's file. "How long into the relationship was this?" he asked.
"A little over two months," Bonnie told him. "I stood up to him then and I told him I didn't want to have anything to do with someone who was so possessive."
"I assume he did not take that news very well?" Ziva asked.
Bonnie almost laughed. "Actually, he did at the time. It was so weird. It was like one second he was yelling about not knowing where I was 24 hours a day, and then I broke it off and he changed his tune right away. He said I was probably right and it was unfortunate the relationship worked out that way, and he wished me all the best."
"Back to the normal, charming guy," Tony said. "With empathy on top."
"Exactly," Bonnie said. "I felt like I'd dodged a bullet. And we went our separate ways. But then I ran into him again."
"He staged it," Kavita shot in.
Bonnie looked both frustrated and tired, as if the two of them had already talked this over a hundred times. "Probably," she allowed. "It was at another bar. He came over, turned the charm up to 11 and by the end of the night I'd agreed to see him again." She paused as her expression fell into one of embarrassment, and looked up at Ziva. "I know you must think I'm stupid."
"No," Ziva said gently. "Of course not."
"But I hear myself saying this now, and I know how dumb it sounds," Bonnie said. "When I'd had so many problems with him, why would I agree to see him again?"
"Because he wanted you to," Ziva said. "He had worked out how to put your fears to rest."
Bonnie rubbed her face. "It's just…you know how you hear these stories and you think to yourself that you'd never be so blind or desperate or stupid to let it happen to you?"
Ziva nodded reassuringly. "I know," she said without judgment.
"And you think that you'd see the signs a mile away," Bonnie went on. "You can't believe that anyone wouldn't."
"Sometimes it's just hard to be objective when you're right in the middle of something," Kavita told her, and reached over to squeeze her hand.
Bonnie shot her a weak smile. "Doesn't make it any less embarrassing."
"You're not the one in the wrong," Tony told her.
"I listened to him," Bonnie pointed out. "I shouldn't have."
"Bonnie, I've been a cop for almost 20 years," he told her. "I've met a lot of guys like this one. And I can tell you that they are really, really good at manipulating people. Including the kind of people who you'd never expect to fall for it. They take advantage of people's base need to trust other people and assume that everyone they come across is as good and as pure of heart as they are. And they do it without you even realizing. Don't be so hard on yourself, okay? He's a professional at this."
Kavita nodded along, looking back and forth between Tony and Bonnie to make sure Bonnie was listening to him and understanding him. Bonnie looked like she was starting to come around, but was still punishing herself. He knew from experience that she'd have to work on that by herself, and it would probably take her a while to get over it.
"So, you renewed your relationship then?" McGee asked.
Bonnie nodded, and for the first time looked like she might cry. But she held on to her tears and pushed through. "Yeah. And like the first time, it was great at the start. Fast-forward a month and he's back to being possessive. I broke it off again, but when he went this time, it wasn't with grace."
"What happened?" Ziva asked gently.
"He just started screaming at me about stringing him along and making him look like a fool," Bonnie said, and although her voice was steady, the way her arms and legs crossed showed that she'd been scared and humiliated by it. "I tried to leave but he grabbed my arm and he was squeezing it," she lifted her hand to mime the movement. "But I pulled free and I left."
"Did he leave marks?" McGee asked as carefully as possible so as not to upset her more.
Bonnie shook her head. "Just a little bruise."
"Little bruise, big bruise, he's still a dick," Kavita said.
Tony agreed. "What happened then?"
"He started showing up at work," Bonnie said. "I work part-time at a bistro in Georgetown, and when I was waiting tables I noticed the he was sitting on a bench across the road and watching me."
"Just once?" Ziva asked.
"No. Just about every time I worked a shift, at some point I'd look across the street and he was there."
"Did he ever come in?" Tony asked.
"No. Just sat on the other side of the street."
"Then he showed up across the street at our apartment," Kavita said. "There's this really pretty park with a playground in front of our building, and her bedroom window looks out onto it. And he'd stand in the park and watch her windows. Like, every other day."
"Did he ever try to enter your apartment?"
Bonnie and Kavita shared a look, and Bonnie seemed to cross her arms tighter. "I don't have proof," Bonnie said. "But…you know how sometimes you can just feel that someone has been in your space?"
"Yes," Ziva said firmly.
"I could just feel it," Bonnie said. "And things just seemed…off. Like, a book on my nightstand was not exactly where I left it. My drawers were slightly open when I was sure I'd closed them. The toilet seat was up. Things like that."
"Does anyone else have a key to your apartment?" McGee asked.
"Just me," Kavita said. "We're roommates. And I know I didn't do it."
"I've had a lot of calls from blocked numbers," Bonnie went on. "All through the night, and he hangs up when I answer. He's been calling my mom and telling her that I gave him diseases and that I performed all these depraved acts on him. He sent messages to my friends and told them that I'd said these horrible things about them. It's like every week he finds some new and terrible thing to do."
"And then this week he sent her all these photos," Kavita said. She looked at Bonnie. "Show them."
Bonnie moved slowly, as if giving herself time to prepare for seeing them again. She carefully tucked her hair behind her ears, and then leaned over to pick up her handbag off the floor. She sifted through the contents until she pulled out a large envelope and slid it across the table between Tony and Ziva. Ziva took it and upended it instead of touching the seal—they couldn't do a forensic analysis of it like the normally could, and Bonnie and possibly Kavita had already contaminated it, but old habits died hard.
There were about a dozen photos in total. Photos of Bonnie at work. Photos of her walking on the street. Photos of her with Kavita and other women. All taken from a distance. And one final photo with Whore scrawled over it.
"Points for cut through on that one," Bonnie tried to joke.
Tony felt a little sick on her behalf. He looked at Ziva just as she looked over at him, and he read the expression in her eyes. We're going to nail this guy.
McGee leaned over the table towards Tony to get a quick look at the photo he was holding. "Did you take these to the police?" he asked.
"They asked if I had proof they were from Eddie," Bonnie said. "I said no, but I knew they were. They sent a cop over to talk to him, but I guess he turned the charm on because they didn't do anything else and told me that it was okay and to just call if he approached me."
"We don't want to wait for that to happen," Kavita said. "This guy is crazy, and we don't think that a friendly visit from a cop is going to make him stop what he's doing."
Bonnie looked across the table, her wide blue eyes vulnerable and desperate. "Can you please help me? I don't want to spend my life being chased by this guy."
Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Ziva got there first.
"Of course," she said. "We will do everything we can to keep you safe."
Tuesday, December 15 2015
Despite how tired he'd been earlier in the evening, Tony couldn't fall asleep that night. He couldn't turn off thoughts of the first time Bonnie Stewart had entered their lives, and when he thought about that he felt panic rise in his chest. He opened his eyes and looked across the pillow at Ziva. She was on her back like him, with her face turned in his direction, but angled downwards. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing steadily, but he knew she wasn't asleep. Her thoughts were probably stuck in the same loop as his.
He'd been arguing with himself for two hours now over what he should do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to go into the office right now and find out where Eddie Hertzog was, then pay him a visit and beat the crap out of him. But it wasn't his case, he had no right, and Ziva would get annoyed with him for taking an action that suggested he didn't think she could handle herself and her cases. He wanted to sit up all night with a gun trained on the door and blast anyone who came into their house, but Ziva would accuse him of being dramatic. He wanted to call Gibbs and tell him he was coming back to the team on this case because he didn't trust that Quinn was good enough to watch her back, but Gibbs would just tell him he needed to let go.
The only thing he thought he'd be able to get away with was rolling over to hug her tightly to him to reassure them both that as of right now, everything was okay. He opened his eyes again to look at her, and he wasn't surprised to see that Ziva was watching him. Sometimes he was positive that she could read his mind.
"It is not that I am scared," she whispered to him, as if they were already halfway through a conversation. She trusted that he knew what she was talking about, and he nodded because he did. "I am just apprehensive."
"About where Eddie might be? Pretty sure he'd still be in jail," he whispered back. That was what was making him 'apprehensive'.
But Ziva shook her head. "No. About finding out that I have not dealt with it."
And suddenly, Tony had something else to worry about. Something bigger. Because Ziva didn't usually indulge in her fear and let it drive her actions. Tony could think of only a couple of times when she had, and Bonnie Stewart's case was one of them. It had scared him almost to death, and the panic in his chest took a firmer grip on him.
But Ziva didn't need to hear that. "I've got your back," he promised her. Whatever happened, he'd be there for her.
Her lips curled in a small smile. "I know."
She rolled over to curl into his side and rest her hand on his chest, and Tony freed his arm from between them to slip it under her neck. The touch made him feel a little better, like he had a bit more control, and he pressed a kiss to her head. Within minutes he heard Ziva's breathing change and he knew she'd finally fallen asleep. But it would take Tony much longer to follow her, because she'd planted a seed in his head and it was growing fast. Ziva may not have completely dealt with their last meeting with Bonnie and Eddie, and now that she'd mentioned it, Tony was sure he hadn't dealt with it either.
In fact, he hadn't properly dealt with any of the times when Ziva had almost died.
When I posted the last chapter I was really worried that there weren't any Ziva or Tiva people left around to read it. I stand corrected. Thank you all so much for your reviews and encouragement. I think I managed to respond to most of you who had logged in to review. If I missed you, I'm sorry, and I'll try to catch you this time. I hope you guys liked this one too.