Chapter Nine: My Brown Eyed Girl…(s)
Gibbs watched the mini tableau between Emily and Hotchner with the smallest sense of regret and resignation. He'd admit he was attracted to Agent Prentiss—and knew she felt the same attraction—but whatever was happening between the two Feebs in front of him went much deeper than simple attraction.
He just wondered if they knew it themselves. Agent Hotchner's body was curved almost protectively around Emily's much smaller one, with her leaning into his warmth. For a moment, they had completely shut out the world of NCIS, including Gibbs and Ziva.
Gibbs turned toward his own wayward dark-eyed, dark-haired female agent. Ziva stood watching as the BAU agents murmured to one another, not missing the way the older man shivered slightly when Emily's shoulder touched his.
So that's why Gibbs did not like the agent Hotchner, Ziva thought, understanding the simplicity of male jealousy. Apparently Agent Emily had more than one team leader sniffing after her.
No wonder poor Tony hadn't made any headway.
Ziva was so into watching the BAU couple that she failed to notice Gibbs giving her an examination as thoroughly as Dr. Ducky had earlier. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her away from Emily and Hotchner, moving her to face him. His hands tightened on her shoulders, the grip strong and reassuring.
Gibbs was always the one person she'd always associate with strength and safety.
Funny, that. She'd never truly trusted a man the way she did the team leader. But that worked two ways; no man had ever read her as deeply as Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Sometimes she felt like nothing less than an open book for Gibbs, starting as far back as the night she'd killed her brother to prevent him from hurting Gibbs.
"Officer David, you were given explicit orders. Care to explain why you chose to ignore them?" He pulled her closer, growling the words very close to her ear. She resisted the urge to shiver. She'd learned long ago how to control her body's reaction to the slightest stimulation. But it was so hard when Gibbs was the one doing the stimulating!
She fought the inescapable urge to squirm in Gibbs grip, wanting to wiggle like a poor worm on a hook. "Sixteen dead women, Gibbs, and I was stuck in a hotel. Agent Emily and I were going stir-nuts."
"Crazy. I think you mean stir crazy, Zi." He said softly ,smiling softly.
"Whatever, that is what I said, no?" She momentarily dropped her head, the crown of her hair rubbing against his chin. "It is what you would do, right?"
He closed his eyes at the slightly fruity scent of her shampoo. "Dammit, Ziva, you were hurt! Can't you make anything easy?"
"I do not know, Gibbs. What exactly would be easy?" She took him literally, though her head stayed against his broad chest. He smelled like boat again, and she resisted drawing the scent in to surround her.
"Rhetorical question. The first hint that you're in pain or wearing down, I'll drag your ass home. Is that clear, David?"
"Glass, Gibbs."
Before Gibbs could reply his cell phone rang, he pulled back slightly, taking only one hand from Ziva's shoulders. He kept the other right where it was. Ziva tensed slightly, but didn't pull away. "What have you got for me, Abs?"
"You and Hot Hotchner better get down here fast! This is worth a dozen Caf-Pows now!"
ABBYABBYABBYABBYABBYABBYABBYABBYABBYABBY
The atmosphere in the elevator ride on the way down to Abby's lab was awkward, to say the least. Both Emily and Ziva were oddly aware of the two men beside them, while the men themselves were equally aware of their feminine counterparts.
It was the weirdest elevator ride of Emily's career. Hotch stood between her and Gibbs, completely blocking her from his view. She couldn't help but think that it was deliberate. Was it possible that Aaron had developed feelings for her.
She completely hoped not. She just couldn't handle that right now. Maybe once they got back to Quantico, she'd think about the possible repercussions.
She entered the forensic lab last, looking around at the people waiting. McGee, Garcia, and Abby were all gathered around a computer simulator. They turned toward the four entering agents and Abby squealed. She threw her arms around Ziva for a moment, squeezing the trained killer as hard as she could.
Ziva was ok with it—she'd expected it.
Abby then turned to her new source of hero-worship and threw her arms around Agent Prentiss. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Abby—let her breathe!" McGee said, long experienced with the ferocity of Abby-hugs.
"You're welcome." Emily said once she could breathe again. Her eyes examined all the faces around her, looking for some clue. "For what?"
"Oh! Yeah. Just watch! Gibbs, the guy who shot Agent Prentiss—my new hero, by the way—wasn't the guy who killed the sixteen navel officers and marines."
"He wasn't. How do you know?" Gibbs barked; Abby was used to his manner so she just ignored it.
Garcia's fingers flew over the keys of the simulator and three-dimensional figures appeared. They were positioned in exactly the same positions that Emily, Ziva, and the shooter had been. With another stroke of the keys, trajectory lines became visible.
"Two lines?" Gibbs asked, familiar with this technology.
"YES!" Abby shouted. "And this is why Emily is my new hero!"