-1In the Dark

Chapter Three

By Gale Force

After a few minutes, Ziva grew tired of waiting for Tony…yes, Tony! She knew it was he who was coming to her and not this "Michael Weatherly" persona that he had somehow been brainwashed into adopting. She would wait for him outside the apartment building.

Once she got outside she took breaths of the fresh air to calm herself. She thrust her hands deep into her pockets, and her right hand closed over a cellphone.

Ziva pulled the phone out and flipped it open. She rapidly scrolled through the address list. No names that she recognized.

Thinning her lips, Ziva punched in a long distance number…the phone number of her father in Israel. There was not even a ringing… 'This is not a valid number' a voice informed her. In rapid succession, Ziva punched in other numbers. None of them were valid. How could that be?

She snapped the phone shut and threw it away disgustedly.

"Excuse me."

Ziva turned, surprised to see a young man only a few feet away from her. How in the world could she have let someone get so close to her unobserved? She must really be losing it.

"Aren't you… you are…. Ziva David? You are, aren't you? From NCIS?" asked a young man. He appeared to be in his twenties. He held a folded map in one hand and there was a camera around his neck.

Ziva's heart leapt. "Yes," she said eagerly. "Yes, I am! Who are you?"

"I…I….I'm George… I…. I…. can I get your autograph?"

Ziva stared at him. "My autograph?"

"Yes…yes…I'm such a big fan of yours and ….and I'd really appreciate it."

He extended the map to her, and a pen. "I was hoping to see you…"

The rest of his words faded as Ziva examined the map - "Map to the Hollywood stars" it was called. There were small photographs of people in the margins, with arrows pointing to a place on the map where the person apparently lived. Her own photo was there…but with a different hairstyle…and the name underneath it… Cote de Pablo.

A map to her home? Or rather, to this Cote de Pablo's home? Once again, this was too…too elaborate to be some kind of plot to brainwash her and her colleagues….

"Um…um…are you okay?"

Ziva snapped back to the present and scrawled a few letters underneath the photo. "There you go, George."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he said, accepting the map back.

"Is there something else?" Ziva said, somewhat curtly, as he remained standing in front of her.

"Well…"

Ziva looked at him, then looked pointedly at her watch. "I am expecting someone any minute now…."

"Well, I know you're just an actress…I don't mean just an actress, obviously…I mean, I know you're not really Ziva David…but…do you do your own stunts?"

Ziva folded her arms across her chest. "Would it destroy the illusion for you if I said I didn't?"

"No, no. You're great in the role. Absolutely great in every aspect. It's just that I was wondering, that's all."

"Well, as a matter of fact I do do my own stunts," Ziva said.

"So…so…if I were to try to kiss you…"

He came forward awkwardly, tentatively, lips pursed. As gently as possible under the circumstances, Ziva grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and drove his arm up behind his back as she spun him around.

"Does this answer your question?"

She shoved him a bit as she released him, and he turned, gazing at her with admiration as he rubbed his wrist.

"Wow," he said appreciatively. "Wow….. I mean….I'm very sorry….but…I just wanted to see if you really knew judo."

"So now you have seen."

Yes. I…. I'd be really embarrassed now if it wasn't so cool. I…"

"Hey!"

At that moment there was a screech of brakes, than a car door slammed and Tony came running up to them.

"What the hell was that, pal?" he demanded.

"Oh, my god," said Zachary. "You're Tony DiNozzo! I am such a fan of yours and Ziva's.

"Oh, really?" said Michael Weatherly, flashing his famous Tony smile.

"Yes, yes. Oh my god, I never thought I'd see the two of you together! Oh my god, oh my god."

He was looking around wildly.

Ziva looked at him, shifting her feet into the appropriate position for a karate kick, should one be required. She was beginning to wonder about his mental state.

"Look, don't you have a self-timer on that thing?" said Weatherly, more understanding of the nature of the fan than Ziva. "Set it up on the car, facing us, and then you can get your picture with us."

"You are the best," murmured George as he quickly did things with the camera, then set it up on the car top. He pressed a button, and they could hear beeping as he rushed back. Ziva stood on one side of him, arms folded across her chest again, face serious. Weatherly put his arm around the man's shoulders, and smiled brightly at the camera.

There was a loud click.

George hurried to the camera, checked to make sure the photo was in focus, and then placed the strap around his neck again.

"You guys have really made my day," he said happily. "Thank you so much."

After a few more minutes in which George also got Weatherly's autograph and expressed his appreciation once more… and said that he wished there'd be more Tiva in the show (a phrase which neither Ziva nor Michael understood), he bade them goodbye and walked briskly away.

"Fans," said Weatherly, cheerfully. "Don't you just love 'em?"

Ziva stared at him.

Weatherly's face changed. Not the rapid wipe of expression that Tony used to segue from his non-sequiturs to business, but a look of genuine concern.

"Jeez, Cote. I saw the guy trying to kiss you, and you handled him pretty well. You weren't really…traumatized or anything by what he did, were you? Because it didn't seem that you were. If I thought that you had been, I would have punched him out."

"No, I am fine." said Ziva. "I just…. Fans."

"That was pretty good, by the way," Weatherly continued. "I was halfway down the block but I saw what you did. A real NCIS agent couldn't have done it any better. Ziva's rubbing off on you."

"Well," said Ziva. "He was just a boy. Unskilled in any form of martial arts. And I do not think he was even trying to kiss me. He just wanted to see what I would do."

"Yeah. Well, you showed him. So, anyway, what's goin on? Why did you call me over."

"Let's not talk here," said Ziva. "Let's go somewhere."

"How about O'Reillys?"

Ziva didn't know who or what that was, but, "Sure."

She got into his car, and Weatherly drove off down the street. Ziva sat in silence, chewing her lower lip and gazing out the car window at the passing scenery. She still had no idea what to say…. She still had no idea what to do….

However, she worked well under pressure. When the time came, something would come to her. Of that she had no doubt.