Ziva arrived home tired and fed up.
Dropping her things on the sofa she headed for the kitchen, discarding outer layers on the way.
Dusty from searching through a bakery for a cigarette lighter with a bullet hole, hair limp, eyes tired from having stayed up too late talking to Rabin.
Tony at been vicious to her all day.
Deliberately verbally cutting up everything she said and throwing it back at her.
Glowering and nipping at her as they had interviewed suspects and leaving her out of the lunch order.
Then, then he had expected her to just tell him who she had staying.
She had enjoyed refusing. If he wanted to act like a child she would treat him like a child.
Poor McGee had taken refuge at every opportunity.
Never had she been so pleased to find a piece of evidence as when she found the lighter.
She had been worried that she would be stuck on the case from hell for at least another week.
Rather than home in time to take a bath and make dinner.
Entering the kitchen she saw there was a note on the fridge.
In Rabin great, assured, rounded hand writing he told her he had gone out to meet on old girlfriend for lunch.
Ziva smiled as she kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of wine.
Rabin's girlfriends had been a great feature of her childhood and indeed her adult life.
Family BBQ and parties were always made more interesting by the thought of just who would be with Rabin.
It had been an ex – girlfriend of Rabin's who had conducted her Mossad interview and another who had conducted the physical aspect of her training course.
Yet another, the wife of a rather dubious Russian, had saved her life in Archangel by smuggling her out of the country in her Louis Vuitton trunk (Ziva had returned it full of Israeli wine as a thank you) after the assassination of a rather elderly German had caused too much local comment.
He seemed to have gone out at one time or another with every beautiful, intelligent, woman over a certain age in Israel in fact most of the countries that he had travelled to could boast at least one of Rabin's angels.
His relationships were important to him. Rabin's ex girlfriends stayed his friends for the most part.
He just never seemed to have actually managed to settle for just one of the angels for more than a year or two and to be honest he never seemed to have wanted too.
She smiled as she turned on the bath.
She loved Rabin sixty year old, naughty, flamboyant, joyous, lothario though he was.
Like Tony, Ziva thought, like Tony when they first meet but not surprisingly any more.
She loved her relationship with Tony when they got on no one was more fun to be around but when the man was an arse he was truly an arse, she thought as she slipped into the soothing hot water.
X
Abby parked the hearse, lifted the slightly car sick Mort out of the boot and checked herself in the wing mirror.
Pig tails straight, top cute mini pleats sharp, new rocks shiny, cute puppy on matching studded tartan lead, check. She was ready to meet the world.
Briskly she tottered towards Ziva's apartment little yellow lab gandering happily at her shins.
On the stairs she noted she was following a really gorgeous great bear of a man, tanned with flowing silver locks like Olivier's Prospero and a nice shirt, well tailored casual blazer and cords.
Abby nodded her head a little at Mort she, liked a handsome man who knew how to dress.
He stopped at Ziva's door and knocked.
Abby reached him just as a wet haired, plain blue coloured cotton PJ-ed, Ziva opened the door.
Mortimer chose this moment to make a happy rush forward to greet Ziva pulling Abby on the end of his lead and driving the whole group into the apartment in a heap.
Abby and Rabin only just retained their balance but Ziva and Mort ended on the floor.
Abby eyed Ziva knowingly from above and stomped her foot" I knew it, I knew it. IT'S YOU whose been feeding him the treats. You and that sly spy stuff telling me that it was most likely McGee or Tony because they are soft Americans. Shame on you!"
Ziva bent down on the floor tickling a hairy yellow tummy looked rather embarrassed and Rabin laughed.
He smiled at this interesting friend of Ziva's and drew the angry Goth with him to the sofa.
Once everyone was comfortably settled in the drawing room and Rabin had broken out another of the bottles of rather fine wine he had brought with him.
Abby started in on the problem that had brought her out to play on a week night.
Smiling at Rabin across the sofa she said "Ziva, you've got to sort this thing out with Tony"
Rabin sat back interested, quietly going into spy mode so he could find out as much as possible.
Ziva snorted. God she just wanted to enjoy this evening not talk about this awkward stuff with Tony.
"Ziva, he is wigging out. He is like so worried. He thinks this great big softy over here (she poked Rabin in the tummy, he smiled lazily at her) is some sort of threat to your safety"
Ziva looked at from tickling Mort who was spread across her knee nose quivering in happiness.
Big brown eyes looking into big blue eyes "Abby he has been awful. All week he has been awful. I would happily have told him about Rabin if he had asked nicely. She snorted again