A/N: Hey guys. This is the 4th chapter of Jealousy. I hope you guys enjoy! C: By the way, there is a poll on my profile concerning this if you want to tell me how this all should be resolved. I have an idea but I want your guys's opinions! Special thanks to NCIStivaAddict for betareading this, and thanks to my reviewers! I don't own anything. With that said, enjoy!

She was running late, and he was already gone. Ziva grabbed the nearest thing she could think of, slipping not very flattering cargo pants on and a bright red shirt. The velvet of the shirt made her smile, but it dropped as soon as she realized that Tony'd remarked once about how much he liked her in red. She sighed, reminding herself that this was no time to be thinking of him. Or Charlee, for that matter.

Her skilled hands flew to her hair and simply tied the loose strands into a tight ponytail, revealing most of her neck. Simple black shoes found their way onto her feet as she raced out the door, only pausing to lock her apartment behind her. Thus began the race down the hallway and stairs, the mad dash to the door, and her sprint to her car.

Keys, where were they? Ziva's hands searched her pants pocket, finding nothing but the apartment keys. Why hadn't she put them on the same chain yet?

"Damnit," she growled, hitting the handle with her open palm. The car refused to budge even as it was assaulted by her palm. It only responded when she finally grabbed at the handle, trying to pry it open even without the needed keys to enter. A blaring car alarm sounded and she rolled her eyes. This was just not her day.

The NCIS agent tore back across the parking lot, cursing the still blaring car alarm. She pushed the door open and raced up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Her hands fumbled with the keys as she reached the door, jamming them in the lock. The door gave a 'click' and she flew in, grabbing the car keys she'd mistakenly left on the cough last night. The clock on the wall read "5:50" in bold, bright letters.

Ten minutes to get to work. Tony'd laugh at her and say something rather suggestive about Charlee and her (although, with the way he'd been acting lately, this was unlikely) and Gibbs would most certainly grant her a headslap. Barely stopping to lock the door, she pushed herself to go faster than before.

Down the stairs. Out the door. Across the parking lot. Into the car. Off to work.

The road flashed by fast and she urged herself to put the pedal to the metal. God knows what Tony would say to her when she got in…

***

The morning was quiet. Tony sat upon his chair, spinning back and forth and deep in thought. The rest of the squadroom was empty, save for McGee, who looked ready to fall asleep anyway. Time seemed to tick by slowly, so slowly that he wanted to hit his head on the desk. He was waiting, but not for Ziva, not for Charlee, not for Gibbs. What he was waiting for was a mystery even for him.

The elevator's ding brought him out of his thoughts. His green eyes went to the clock on his wrist. 6:20 burned bright in front of him. Ziva wasn't in yet. Puzzled, he moved for a view of the elevator. There she was now. He faked a smile and waved in greeting.

Ziva stopped to see Tony's reaction, though it confused her when he simply smiled and waved. Why had he not spoken, not guessed about her night, not even hurled an insult aimed at herself or Charlee? Somehow his silence disturbed her. She'd known him long enough to be sure on his inability to keep quiet.

As he turned away, the senior field agent rolled his eyes and fought to keep himself from cursing under his breath. He fixed his face in a genuine looking smile and pushed past his female coworker, not stopping to look back as he trekked down the hallway. The men's room would give him partial privacy. The door opened easily with a twist of the knob, revealing the head to be completely empty as he'd hoped. His feet led him to the sink, where he stared at his reflection for a few moments before splashing water on his face.

This was a hell of a week. The only thing that could really top this would be to find out that Ziva was pregnant with Charlee's child or something. He shuddered at the thought of baby David-Hunter.

"Shit, I can't… I hope this is over soon," he said to everyone and no one at the same time. His voice spiked with emotion that normally he would contain, but there seemed to be no one in with him. At least for now. As if on queue, the door opened to reveal a rather tired McGee.

"Tony," he greeted, "Ziva's looking for you. She's concerned, you're not talking to her."

"I have a reason for not talking to her," Tony growled in reply, wishing that the men's room was empty again. Then again, talking to his fellow agent might get his mind off of her.

"Charlee?" McGee questioned knowingly, a small smirk on his face.

"Of course," came the reply. "He pisses me off. He's not good for her."

"You're… Tony, you normally don't care this much. I mean, Rivkin was a mess, but Charlee's okay."

"He's a damn player and I don't want to see him with Ziva. He treats her like property. Property, McGee! She doesn't belong to any damn person."

"Okay. Calm… calm down. At least try to be professional for now or Gibbs'll kill you."

"If Ziva doesn't first," Tony said flatly, his eyes still on the mirror. So much for taking his mind off Ziva. This was helping him as much as talking to her would, and right now, he'd rather quit than actually have to talk to his partner, at least unprofessionally.

"Come on, Tony, you know she wouldn't actually hurt you..." McGee trailed off. Would she?

"She put a gun to my chest last time I messed with her boyfriend. I wouldn't put anything past her." Tony ground his hand into his face, willing himself to think that his partner wouldn't break his trust completely. Not again.

McGee flashed him an encouraging smile and left, the only thought in his mind being, God, is he falling in love with Ziva?

***

Ziva turned her chair to stare down the hallway she'd watched Tony go down but ten minutes ago, followed by McGee about seven minutes after. This was driving her crazy. The obvious rivalry between her beloved partner and her FBI lover was going to be the death of her. As the second 'ding' of the morning from the elevator sounded, she stood up, allowing the chair to hit her cabinets. Everybody else was in. This had to be the FBI and Charlee.

She took herself down the hallway towards the women's room, but stopped to watch the FBI agents leave the elevator. As they rounded the corner, the Israeli snuck over to the metal container they'd just left and waited for it to open. It took only moments and she was gone; as the doors slid closed she could see Charlee standing, puzzled, at her desk.

The ride was smooth and silent, and she was thankful for that. After the constant complaints from each man about the other, she needed a break more than anything. Abby might be just what she needed, now that Tony was in the men's room with McGee. This would ensure an almost completely uninterrupted, meaningless conversation.

"Abby!" she called before even reaching the door. "Hey, Abby!"

The forensic scientist turned around, her black pigtails flying in the air behind her. "Ziva! What's up?"

"Nothing, I just need to get away for a while," Ziva admitted with rueful smile. "I am nearly suffocating between Charlee and Tony."

"Aw, Ziva," Abby cried, pulling her into a bear hug. "You know Tony's just being Tony… I don't really like Charlee either though. He doesn't seem all that good."

"Abby, not you too!" Ziva sighed.

"No, I won't start on you, don't worry," Abby offered her an encouraging smile. "But seriously, lay off Tony. He's just being protective. He's just… waiting."

"For what?"

"You, Ziva…

You."

A/N: I added some more Abby and a bit of McGee for you people. ;) Tony/Ziva based fic or not, we can't leave out our favorite... ummm... forensics/investigation pairing! That doesn't sound right, but I hope you get the idea.