A/N Just another episode in the lives of our favorite neighbors.
Disclaimer I don't own them and I'm not making any money from them.
Gibbs entered through the back door and slipped through the kitchen. He was still dressed in his work clothes of charcoal gray pants, black dress shirt and silver and black tie. His NCIS issued Sig and badge were still fastened to his belt.
With his rudimentary computer skills Jethro had done a background check. What he found had not impressed him. In fact he was concerned. An unstable work history, frequent moves, and a financial situation in the toilet were like neon signs flashing the word LOSER.
He paused at the base of the stairs and listened. A blow dryer was humming somewhere overhead. At the sound of a car door closing in the drive, he moved closer to the front door. When the door bell rang, he heard the dryer shut off.
He yelled up the stairs, "I've got it, Ziva. You can take your time." He opened her front door. He was met with the very startled face of what he assumed was Ziva's date.
Jethro stood to the side, "Come on in. Ziva's still getting ready."
The older agent surveyed the newcomer as the young man walked past. He was handsome and polished in a fake sort of way. Jethro motioned to the living room, "Have a seat. She'll be down in a minute."
The young man sat in a club chair and cast a nervous look around. Jethro followed him into the room and hitched one hip on the arm of the couch. The gentleman looked back at Jethro and opened the conversation.
"Hello. I'm Andrew...Andrew Norman," he introduced himself with a rather constipated smile.
Jethro did not return the smile. "I'm Gibbs. Special Agent Gibbs." He mentally cringed when he realized he sounded like one of DiNozzo's bad James Bond imitations.
Still, Jethro had the satisfaction of watching Mr. Andrew Norman's smile wilt. He had to give him credit. Ziva's young suitor gamely soldiered on.
"Do you work with Ziva?" the younger man asked.
"I'm her boss and her neighbor," he responded. He waited a beat and continued, using Ziva's own words, "And, I'm the closet thing she has to a father."
He was pleased to see the look had changed to worry. "And, what do you do for a living, Andrew?"
The younger man rallied a bit, "I'm a civilian employee for the Marine Corps, sir."
Jethro experienced that 'Gottcha' thrill he usually experience in the interrogation room. "What is it you do for the Corps, Andrew?"
He had to struggle not to laugh at the response, "I'm an accountant, sir."
Jethro had to give him credit for politeness. But, it was time to move in for the kill. "That's interesting, Andrew. I was in the Corps."
Young Andrew had no idea what was about to befall him when he asked, "And, what did you do in the Corps, Agent Gibbs?"
He might have still been granted a reprieve. If only he hadn't allowed Jethro to hear the condescension in his tone. Jethro narrowed those ice blue eyes and replied, "Sniper."
Jethro watched the color drain from young Andrew's face. His timing had been perfect. At that same moment, Ziva hustled down the stairs and into the living room.
She greeted Andrew and then turned to Gibbs, "Do we have a case?"
Gibbs stood and smiled at her. "No, no case. The battery for your car won't be in until tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know. You can ride with me in the morning if you want."
After Ziva thanked him, Jethro turned to her date, "Andrew, nice to meet you. Ziva, I'll see you in the morning. You two have a nice evening."
He let himself out the front door. Jethro at least had the decency to hold his smile until he was safely in his own home.
"What did you do to my date?" Jethro looked up at the sound of his newest agent stomping down his basement stairs.
At his purposely blank look, Ziva demanded again, "I know you did something, Gibbs. Now what was it?"
He checked his watch and then remarked oh so innocently, "It's only 2300. Didn't expect you back so soon."
She stopped her pacing at the foot of the stairs to pierce him with her gaze, "Do not play that game with me, Gibbs. I know you did something to Andrew. I want to know what it was."
Jethro leaned against his workbench, "I kept him entertained until you got ready, Ziva."
"Bull!" was her angry retort.
"Honest. We talked about his job," Gibbs mentally crossed his fingers.
Ziva had resumed pacing the width of his basement, "What else did you talk about?"
"I might have mentioned I was in the Corps," he hedged.
She stopped pacing and fixed him with her best version of his own stare. "Did you also happen to mention that you were a sniper, Gibbs?"
He tried, and failed, to not let her see his lips twitch, "I might have."
"I knew it. I knew you did something to frighten him on purpose," Ziva accused.
"What gave you that idea?" he just had to ask.
"You answered my door still wearing your sidearm. You were dressed like a hit-man for the Mob. When I came downstairs, Andrew looked like he wanted to bolt out the front door. All through dinner, he kept making excuses for why he thought it best if he got me home early. And..." she paused to invade his personal space, "when he walked me to my door, he shook my hand."
He lost the battle. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs actually snorted at her pronouncement. In hindsight, he later reflected that laughing had probably not been the best response. He was not surprised when she hit him on the arm.
"Gibbs, I cannot believe you would do such a thing," Ziva folded her arms and stared at him.
Jethro dumped screws from two jars and poured each one of them two fingers of bourbon. He handed her the liquor and then resumed his spot against the workbench.
"Jack tells a story about the first time he went to pick up my mother. Granddaddy was sitting in the parlor cleaning his shotgun. I thought I was a little more subtle." He grinned that wicked Gibbs smile. "But, it's nice to know I got my points across."
Some of her anger had deflated but she still struggled to understand, "What points?"
He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, "That you aren't alone. That someone knows where you are most of the time. That if he hurt you, he would have me to deal with." Jethro rubbed the back of his fingers gently across her cheek. As Ziva looked up into those vivid blue eyes, she was shock by their intensity as he admitted. "He got the point that it wouldn't be wise to mess with my little girl."
Ziva closed the space between them, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his shoulder. "That was incredibly old fashioned and I can take care of myself. But, thank you, Gibbs."
Jethro hugged her back and placed a kiss on the top of her hair. "When you find a guy brave enough to face me a second time, you'll know he has potential."
Ziva drew back and looked at him, "Does this mean I get to approve of all your dates?"
Gibbs put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the stairs, "I don't think so, Ziver."
She wrapped an arm around his waist as they started up the stairs, "Why not? I think that would only be fair."
He ushered her through the door and shut off the basement lights, "No, Ziva."
She made her way to the front door and stepped onto the front porch. "Actually I think it is a wonderful idea, Gibbs. I should screen all of the women who are constantly throwing themselves at you. You know the ones who bat their eyes and toss their hair and thank you for being so brave."
Ziva still heard his laughter despite the door that been closed in her face.