Title: Picking up the Pieces and Filling in the Gaps

Author: ChelseaDaggerCinderella

Summary: Tony and Ziva spend the four months between 'Hiatus' and 'Shalom' strengthening their partnership…and their relationship, but Tony still winds up working undercover for the Director, and Ziva has demons of her own to deal with. Can they come together to make everything alright again?

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, although I'd like to. No infringement intended, Mr. Bellisario.

Author's Note:

Hey, everyone! So, as I'm sure you're all painfully aware, it's been a few days since my last update. There were a few reasons for this larger than usual gap between chapters and I didn't want to post the next chapter with simply just a 'sorry for the delay.'

Reason one is your basic 'sorry guys but I've been tied up with a super-huge project that has sadly taken priority no matter how much I'd rather be typing up glorious TIVA moments and sharing them with you all.' I apologize for both the delay and for having such a monotonous excuse. ;)

Reason two, however is something of a writer's nightmare that is wholly tied and linked to reason three, therefore my more interesting and predominant excuse is as follows (in two parts). If you've read my author's note from the first chapter then you know my theory about having three stages for this story. This is what happened. I had finished stage one, and I thought I had finished stage two and was free to move on to stage three when I got stuck. You see, I've had this story all planned out for a while, but not every single aspect, so when I started to seriously write stage three, I realized that although I had thousands of words written I had a huge hole in between the end of stage two and the middle and end of stage three. Whoops!

Thus, unable to come up with any transitional ideas, I reread the end of stage two in order to spark my muse, and found—much to my horror—that I'd forgotten a whole branch of my story arc and had to go back and finish the previously finished stage two. This, of course, put me into a panic, because I hadn't even gotten any good ideas to solve my original quandary and as such, I decided that I couldn't post any more chapters until I was sure I wouldn't run out of chapters to post because there is a difference between getting stuck with material in the tank and getting stuck with absolutely nothing to promise your readers.

Now, with the posting of this chapter comes good news: I figured out how to transition and fill up my hole between stages two and three. Yay! I haven't written it yet, but at least we're back on schedule…haha.

Okay, so with all of that I have only one more thing to add, and it's directed to my fifty-fourth reviewer, gonnabemarine, to whom I say: you may very well get one—in my absolutely lack of inspiration to fill the aforementioned hole, I started thinking about possible storylines for a sequel (if I manage to write it). Anyway, just thought I'd let you all know that though I had to slow down our pace, I wasn't slowing down my desire for production.

Now, on with the show!!

Tony hated it when Ziva was right. He looked sullen as he hoisted his pack onto his shoulder and fell into stride next to her on their way from the scene to the car. "So I got used to being in charge; sue me."

Ziva reached for the door handle but Tony's body blocked her path. She grunted in frustration. "Is there a reason why you always have to drive?"

He chuckled bitterly and reinforced his hold on the driver's door. "I could say it's because I'm the Senior Field Agent." He smirked at her. "But mostly because I want to live."

She force her way out from behind him almost violently and leaned back in so she could whisper, rather dangerously. "Then I recommend you get unused to being in charge before Gibbs decides to kill you." Then she walked away, rounding the corner of the vehicle towards the passenger seat.

Tony gulped; he hated it when Ziva was right—and he hated it even more when she knew she was right.

Tony was only half listening to her as they trekked down the hallway towards Lieutenant Sullivan's apartment. She was complaining about his driving. "…we would have been here half and hour ago."

"Yeah. Our bodies could be in a twisted wreck awaiting the Jaws of Life."

"Gibbs lets me drive."

"I have more to live for."

"I see," she said, smirking, and fishing for information. "Perhaps this new mystery girlfriend of yours…"

Tony rolled his eyes. Oh, I so don't want to go there…too much drama. "She's not a mystery."

She inwardly sighed. Always difficult. "Then why haven't any of us met her?"

Leave it to Ziva to pick up the scent of the one thing I not only don't want to tell her about but actually can't. "Look, it's complicated…" They rounded the corner and stopped cold, drawing their guns and entering the ransacked apartment together.

McGee was doing his computer thing at his desk, clicking away with a fury, dumping the discoveries he and Abby had made about Lieutenant Sullivan after cracking her encryptions. "Now that we have access to her files, we can see she was using MorphPro to predict the appearance of her adult offspring."

Tony shuddered. "Creepy. No wonder she couldn't find a husband."

McGee shook his head at Tony's 14-year-old-boy mentality. "You know, choosing someone to spend the rest of your life with is not easy." He gestured to the computer—to the program. "Who wouldn't want to know all the facts before deciding?"

Ziva cocked her head to the side, curious. "Isn't that what dating is all about?"

Tony chuckled, "Yeah, you should try that sometime, McGee."

McGee's demeanor changed—he'd been challenged. "Gee, I wonder what would happen if you two hooked up?" he asked, clicking away on his computer.

Tony and Ziva laughed to themselves. Well, Ziva thought in answer to McGee's offhanded comment, it would never work—though the sex would be great—because work conflicts with anything we would discover between us and I would never be able to fully relax because I am currently being driven crazy—slowly—by the ghosts inside my head that I cannot seem to shake.

Tony's thoughts weren't all that different from Ziva's. Figures, he guffawed inwardly. Ah, Probie, it would be awesome—the sex, of course, wonderful—and unbelievably relaxing (the sneaking around only making it more thrilling) but alas it can't possibly work because I'd have to keep blowing her off and eventually ditch her for the same reason that I'm lying to all of you.

The computer made a noise. "Guys, meet your love child."

Ziva and Tony came to stand in front of the plasma at the same time. The both gave off real laughs, smiling realistically for the first time in a while. They looked at each other, smirking devilishly, and then, ever the in sync pair, they ordered, "Do Gibbs and the Director!"

Ziva was uncomfortable and Tony was amused. Ziva looks good as a geek, he thought, wryly, trying very hard not to bust out laughing at the sight of her all geeked-out. Ziva shifted in her seat, readjusting her glasses. "Ninety-second dates? I thought you were kidding me, Gibbs."

Gibbs stood tall in MTAC, confident in Ziva's abilities. "You'll do fine, Ziva. I had marriages shorter than that."

Ziva cocked her head. "Huh. I'm starting to understand why," she mumbled dryly.

Gibbs ignored her. "Tony, sit rep!" he barked.

Tony glanced over the crowd in the bar, moving his gaze from Ziva to the crowd under surveillance. "No silver Accord in the parking structure." He smirked. "Our girl's looking a little nervous, though." Oh, bit me, DiNozzo, Ziva thought. "I think we found her kryptonite. Our big bad spy doesn't do geek."

What?! she thought, testily. "Did he just say Greek?"

"How about both of you shut up!" Gibbs growled.

"Oh for one," McGee said after Mr. Porch-car left. "Twenty-four more guys to go."

"He's clean, Ziva," Gibbs told her.

Ziva shuddered and twitched her nose in distaste. "Yeah, well, you didn't have to smell him, Gibbs." Tony laughed to himself.

"And do turn up the charm, Ziva Da-vid." Gibbs ordered inspirationally. "You're a geek, not mentally deranged." Yeah, Ziva thought to herself with self-loathing, unless you're in my bedroom at 2:34 every night. Then you know that I really am mentally deranged…and falling apart.

"Men are such bad liars," Ziva stated with authority as she and McGee stepped off the elevator and into the squad room.

"But if a good liar was telling you a lie," McGee argued, "you would not know it was a lie."

"Ha!" Ziva laughed. "I would."

McGee shook his head, "How would you know?"

"Know what?" Tony asked, busy balancing a number two on his nose.

"When an expert liar is telling Ziva a lie," McGee said, turning to Tony.

"And this started how?" he asked, pencil still in place.

"Well, I told her that I went to the gym this morning," McGee began, his belongings now put away.

Tony lost the pencil, staring at McGee. "No great skill in guessing you were fibbing there, Probie. You may have lost some weight, and personally I am very proud of you. But gym is definitely not your middle name."

"Okay," McGee nodded to Ziva, "well, Ziva thinks that all men are liars."

Tony's eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief. Oh God, Ziva thought. Here he goes… "Reeeeeallly?" he said, very cocky, standing up and coming over to her. "So if I were to lie to you, you would be able to tell?" Tony smiled to himself. It's not like we've never played this game before, Ziva. Just not usually this…PG.

Ziva scoffed, and looked him up and down. "Particularly you."

"You think?" he asked.

Oh, Tony, you never win this—why do you still try?—she thought.

"I wouldn't go there, Tony," McGee warned.

"Oh, watch and weep. True or false?" he asked Ziva. "I had eggs for breakfast this morning."

Ziva subtely peeked at the egg on his shirt and pants. "True."

"Lucky guess." Tony bristled. "Last night, I had a date with a very beautiful woman."

Ziva scowled and almost hit him. He said that on purpose! When the two of them used to play this game he'd often say that one referring to Ziva herself in order to initiate other activities. Well, fine, she thought, playfully. Two can play this game, DiNozzo. "False."

"She's good," he said to McGee. Oh I've got you now, Ziva David! "My first car was a shiny new red Corvette."

Ha ha…sorry, Tony. "False." She smiled. "Strike three…I win."

Tony was agape. I was sure I had her! "How did…how did you do that?"

She went behind her desk, triumphant in her defeat of Tony. "When you said you had a red Corvette, you looked down and to the left. A telltale sign when people lie."

Ah ha! There is a trick after all, my little Mossad ninja! She'd always denied it every time he'd theorized on the source of her apparent skills. "And the date?"

"Tony," she said as if he were a child. "If you'd gone out with a beautiful woman last night, you would have talked about it all day. Provided you weren't seeing someone in secret—like we were.

"I would?"

"Oh yeah," McGee said, talking over Gibbs on the phone with dispatch.

"Okay, but how can you possibly know that I had eggs for breakfast this morning?"

"Gear up," Gibbs yelled. "We have a message from a dead guy."

"Ready to roll, boss," Tony said, eagerly.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs called in silent jubilee.

"Yeah, boss?"

He turned around and pointed. "You've got egg on your shirt."

Ziva smirked at him mentally recalling the evidence all over his supremely tight cloth-covered rear. "Not just on your shirt."

"Women want men to lie to them," Tony said as the two of them stood in the observation room.

"Not true," Ziva said, her arms folded.

Tony's voice morphed into imitation octaves. "Honey, does my butt look big in these pants to you? Actually, yes, sweetheart; your butt looks as big as Alabama—didn't want to say anything, but you got the 'Bama butt going on." He looked at her pointedly. "See? You want us to lie to you, so we do." She rolled her eyes. "Especially if your butt is as big as 'Bama." She turned on him dangerously. Uh oh! Danger, Will Robinson… He stammered and back-tracked. "Not that…not that your butt is big. And not that I've ever looked," he said, mindful of the guy in the back of the room.

"Oh, liar!" Ziva accused. You've done a hell of a lot more than that, Tony! And my butt is not big!

"Okay," he said, chuckling to lighten the mood. "I have looked, but, you know, I never…" thought it was as big as 'Bama.

"Never what?" she asked, interrogating him.

Wait a minute! "Oh, no. I'm catching on to you." Don't fall for it, DiNozzo! "And you're not going to get me to say something and then do your little Mossad true-or-false trick. I'm too smart for that."

Ziva chuckled evilly. "Of course you are…" Same old Tony…

Tony pulled open Ziva's desk drawer and sifted through the contents. He closed it and tried again with the one below it, pulling out her deodorant and applying it. He sighed. "Much better. Before I smelled like dirt and sweat." He switched arms. "Now I smell like dirt, sweat, and—" he held the stick out to inspect the label. "…sandalwood." And Ziva, he noted to himself whimsically and almost a little longingly.

"Good morning," Ziva cheered as she entered the bullpen, spotting Tony. "What are you doing at my desk?"

"I couldn't find my deodorant, so I used yours." She shot him a very dark look. Well that's not a good look.

"You didn't."

"Yeah, we're partners. What's the big deal?" Seriously, Ziva, he thought, it's not like you haven't used mine before.

Oh, very sanitary, Tony, she thought, snatching it out of his hand. "A hair!" she said accusingly, shoving it in his face and then tossing it in the garbage with a thump.

"Come on!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. She's freakin' over a hair when we've shared bodily fluids? "You attach electrodes to men's testicles. You're getting squeamish about a hair?" Plus, lest we forget, dear Ziva, that you tricked me into grunt work! "I'm not going to feel bad. Those ground-radar techs didn't show 'till dawn. McGee and I watched the sunrise together. It was very 'Brokeback Mountain.'"

Oh, I know this one, Ziva thought, eagerly. Uh, cowboys, right?—and…gay?

"He had me at 'Howdy,'" McGee said, coming up next to Tony.

Ziva scowled. "How romantic. I'm sorry I missed it."

Why would someone unbury a body? Ziva typed, the words appearing on the plasma in the center of the bullpen.

"I can answer that," Tony said. "To send the message. Like, 'Hi, I'm dead.'" Ziva cocked an eyebrow at him, skeptically. "Never get engaged to two women at the same time?" he tried.

She scowled. "It would be easier to just rent a billboard." She turned back to her computer. "Second question."

Where's the money? Tony recited the question as he fingered Siri's engagement ring. "Ah!" he exclaimed, hoisting the ring. "Maybe in Siri's engagement ring. I've got to bring this down to Abby."

Ziva motioned to him. "I can save you an elevator trip." She grinned inwardly, mischief sparkling in her eyes as she blew on the ring—and incidentally, Tony's finger.

"Oh, that's nice."

Predictable as always, she thought. "It's creating condensation. On a real diamond, that evaporates immediately."

"It's staying," he noted.

"Because it's a fake."

He couldn't help it; it was so much like old times that he just found himself giving in to his baser urges. "Give it one more try—just to make sure."

Haha, gotcha, Tony! She pushed his hand away. "I'm not blowing on you again! Question three."

"Why buy a shovel?" he asked, confused.

Damn, I skipped the 'r'. "Ooops! No, sorry."

"Why bury a shovel?" he asked, as per her correction. "Yeah, I have no answer to that idea," he said, coming around behind Ziva, his own playful side coming out to play. Turn-about is fair play, Zee-vah. "But here," he stood behind her and began to type, his body effectively surrounding her—both a pleasure and a pain for Ziva. "How about this one?"

"Who is Darkman?" she read.

"That is the question," he said, already monologue-ing. "Liam Neeson in the nineteen-ninety cult classic directed by Sam Raimi about a mentally unstable scientist who seeks revenge."

"You left out 'Who shot Rebecca?'" Gibbs said, stalking his way across the squad room.

"That was my next question," Ziva said, quickly, her fingers already in position on the keyboard.

"If Siri is innocent, she'd assume that Rebecca's guilty and she'd seek revenge," Tony said, explaining Siri's possible motive.

Ziva shook her head. "Shooting someone in broad daylight is just dumb."

"Well, you're not thinking like a jealous woman, Ziva," Gibbs told her. Yeah, I'm trying quite hard not to, she noted, a little more bitter than she'd have preferred.

"Maybe not," McGee said. "When I went back to search Rebecca's place, I found this between couch pillows," he added, holding out an evidence box containing a gun.

"Rebecca shot herself," Gibbs surmised.

McGee nodded. "I think so. She lost a lot today. Her fiancé, her life savings."

"Her respect," Ziva added, knowing a lot about that. There are few things worse than falling on one's pride…

Ziva reopened the door and carefully stepped back into the warehouse, painfully aware of Tony right behind her. "Ziva! Hey! What he hell are you doing?" She's absolutely friggin' crazy!

Being useful, she thought. "I can disarm it."

Oh, man… "Okay, well great. Let's go outside and talk about this." And avoid getting blown to bits!

She took off her jacket and started climbing on boxes, much to Tony's chagrin. If it detonates before EOD gets here, we'll lose evidence." I can do this, Tony. Just let me!

"Well what a bummer. It would be a real shame." She kept climbing—not listening. Damnit, Ziva why do you always have to pull crap like this? We get it—you're tough. Now stop risking your life! "Ziva! Ziva!" He started climbing and following her out onto the beams. "Oh, this has to be the stupidest thing any human being has ever done."

She chuckled inwardly. "Then why are you following me, Tony?"

Tony had been angry with himself for weeks—ever since he'd let himself fall so far from where he knew he should be that she'd had to go to Gibbs. He'd cursed himself and took what Gibbs had said about Ziva's situation to heart. He'd let Ziva stand all by herself against the inivisible hand framing her for multiple murders and he was paying the price for it. He wasn't about to let that happen again. Because I learned the hard way: where you go, I go…partner. "I don't freakin' know." They were getting to the bomb. "Oh, god. Ah…"

She settled down and handed Tony the cell phone. "Here, hold this."

Oh, hold this? Just like that? "Do you have any idea what's going to happen if this cell phone rings?" No response, but—wow, I can see down her shirt. Still as good as I remember. "I can see down your shirt right now."

Ziva gave a little smile as she tinkered with the detonator box. Not that you'd do anything about it now… "I don't think your new girlfriend would like that."

Oh, Ziva, why can you leave nothing alone…Great! Time to lie some more. "What are you talking about? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mmhmm, sure, Tony. "I'm talking about you, and that fact that you no longer stare at every woman when they pass you by."

Except you, he thought before he could help it. Lead her away from the scent, DiNozzo, one voice said—it sounded a lot like Jenny. I can't believe we're having this conversation while she's diffusing a bomb! That latter one was more like his own. "Well, I'm looking down your shirt right now," he said in a tone that said—oh yeah? It was a challenge—and Tony really hoped she answered it in kind.

Ziva almost smiled. "You see anything good?"

Tony did smile. "Yeah, real good…" It'd be even better if we weren't currently cohabitating with a bomb! "But I'm not entirely sure it's worth dying—" Ziva cut the wire, disarming the bomb. "…over."

They both breathed out heavily. "Not worth dying over…" She zipped up her shirt. Ah, I miss you, Tony…even if I shouldn't. "…I'll remember that."

God, I miss her sometimes… And before Tony could think of the possible ramifications of asking such a thing it was already out of his mouth. "What if I said it was?"

The look he gave her and the tone of his voice almost melted Ziva right there—but she knew the limits and she knew that they were just playing with fire. She believed they were good together, but it just wasn't going to work with them like this. "Now you'll never know," she said.

Tony sighed. Yeah, that's the way things are shaping up lately…

Okay, so I have an assignment for you.

First: review like crazy!

Second: I need TIVA songs, songs considered Tony songs, songs considered Ziva songs, songs that Ziva would listen to (HaDag Nachash notwithstanding), songs that Tony would listen to (Sinatra notwithstanding), and finally, songs that Abby would listen to (anything of her traditional death metal, techno-fun, notwithstanding). Got that?

And lastly, I need a title for the next chapter. It includes scenes from "Sandblast" and "Smoked."

Review, Review, Review!!