Revelations
A/N: After this chapter, you are all going to be angry with me. Especially as this is my last planned chapter for this fic.
I have a proposal for you: Review this chapter. Tell me what you would rather have, based on the ending.
Another chapter, which resolves my story happily? Or a sequel?
Keep in mind, my happy ending is intended for the sequel which I am all ready writing chapter four of.
Cheers,
Foxtail : )
Ch11
Ziva watched the plane fade away into nothing but a heat shimmer in the burning Israeli sun, and turned back to her father. The hurt was clear in her eyes.
"Why did you send me there? You knew… You knew I would be captured by those half-witted Hamas terrorists, and then you played Tony!"
Eli David stared down at his daughter. "I knew there was a chance you would be captured. It is a part of our life. You know this, child."
He thrust the ransom note he had received into her hands.
"And this is why I played that American agent."
Ziva looked up quickly, disbelieving.
Director David added, "He killed Michael, so his death could be sanctioned at any moment anyhow."
Something steely in his eyes told him something terrible would happen, soon.
Maybe it was the hatred shielded by that veneer of glistening, hard steel.
It was not to come to pass at this very moment, however. David placed an arm around her unprotesting shoulder, leading Ziva away.
****
She was in the basement. Heard Ari's voice again…
Saw him prepare to fire…
Saw Gibbs' face…
Fired.
Heard the report of her weapon.
Felt the anguish in her own body.
Saw the relief in Gibbs' face:
Saw the trust there.
Saw Ari's bloody body…
Looked into those hurt green eyes.
… Green?
She sat up, sweat pouring from her frightened body. Ziva almost reached for the cell phone, but stopped herself.
Just a dream, Ziva. Just a dream.
**** Tony's apartment, D.C.
Tony rolled out of bed, restless.
His hand almost groped for the new cell phone, but he checked himself.
Let Zi call me.
Then that phone rang, and he jumped for it eagerly.
Caller ID: Tim.
"MaGoo, what do you want at ten o'clock?"
"You sound grumpy. Isn't ten early for you?"
"A, I just got back from a transcontinental flight during which I broke two people's hearts, and B… well… wasn't getting shot in the chest and tortured a good enough reason?"
"Tony, sorry."
"Don't apologize, Probie. What did you want?"
"Uh…" McGee was suddenly nervous.
"Spit it out, McAnxious. Did Abby propose?"
"No, but Abby's listening on the speakerphone," Abby replied with a grin. Well, he wasn't exactly sure about the grin. But it was likely there.
"Hi, Abby."
"Hi, Tony!"
"So… uh… Abby wanted to talk to you and knew you'd pick up for me," Tim stuttered.
"Tony," Abby started, "why on earth did you not get Ziva to come back?"
Oh, no. Not this again.
Couldn't he be left to heal in peace?
"I'm not what she needs," Tony replied cynically.
"She's your best friend, and the love of your life! Did you even tell her that?"
"Well…" Tony shifted, aware that the forensic genius would sense how uncomfortable he was. "Not in so many words."
"Oh, Tony." Abby clucked sadly.
"Are you pretending to be a chicken, Abs?"
Abby ignored him. "Tony, if you had told her, she would have come back. You guys are perfect for each other!"
Tony regretted telling McGee how he felt. Somewhere deep down, he had known this would happen.
"Abby, don't push this," he heard Tim whisper.
"Why not?" she hissed in return.
"It's going to take some time for him to heal, and botched counseling won't help!"
"Sure it will!"
Tony sighed. "You guys are on speakerphone. You know that, right? It means I can hear you."
He could practically hear their exchange of guilty glances.
"We know, Tony… But really! Call Ziva! I miss her! You're not the only one who loves her!" Abby exclaimed.
"Abby, don't make me."
"I will if I have to. Right now it's a friendly request."
Tony shook his head, knowing they couldn't see. "She has to call me."
"Ziva's never going to call you! She thinks you hate her! After all, you're the one who told her 'Thanks, but no thanks' on the plane!"
"McGee!"
"She's an extortionist, Tony!"
"Bye," Tony said, hanging up.
He looked at the clock. Ten thirty.
That was… Five thirty, Israel time.
A few hours of sleep, and then… Maybe!... he could call that oh-so-familiar number.
He wouldn't, though.
Ziva had to call first.
Ziva had to come home.
**** Israel
She ran, so hard.
Faster than normal.
Harder than normal.
Longer than normal.
Ziva knew she should not. She had, after all, just been in a cell in Somalia.
Anything to take her mind off that dream.
It felt like she was in another, more frightening dream- one where she longed to find something but could never quite catch it.
At the end of her tunnel was that cell phone.
Ziva pretended she did not see the phone, not even when she collapsed on her couch at home.
Seven a.m. Midnight in Washington.
It is Tony, she thought. He may be awake.
Come on, Ziva! Number two in your speed dial!
Ziva pulled over her phone, pressing the two. Her finger hovered over the call button.
She had tried not to even look at it, since her return. She had left it in Tel Aviv on her mission.
Ziva dialed her voicemail instead.
One from Abby, telling her to come home. One day after her aliyah.
Two from advertisers in California, who had gotten the phone number somehow.
One from Tony, dated the day after she was captured.
"Zee-vah," he called, voice slurred. Drunk.
"Zee-vah, come home," he called again. "I miss you, Zee-vah. Tim said I shouldn't call you. But he also said something about not drinking."
She heard the clink of glass as Tony paused.
"I think you've said something about not drinking before, too. Yeah, another one, George," he said to the bartender quietly. "George is a real nice guy, Zi. Mm-hm. Well, I'll let you get back to mourning your boyfriend or whatever it is Mossad assassins do when they abandon their entire lives and loyal-er friends."
She heard the beep of her phone ending the message, and hung up. Tears streamed silently down her face.
Horse up, Ziva. He does not want you.
Then her phone rang, making her jump.
"McFlower Power is calling!" trilled Tony's voice.
Ziva hesitantly picked up. "I miss you and Abby, Tim."
"Well, that's good. We miss you, too!" Abby said excitedly. McGee chuckled softly in the background.
"How is Tony?" she asked softly.
"He's-" McGee began, only to be cut off.
"Heartbroken, Ziva! He needs you!"
Ziva's heart skipped a beat. Stupid heart.
"If he needed me, he would not have told me I was better off with Mossad," she hissed harshly.
"Ziva, Tony is an IDIOT! He wants you to be happy, and thinks you're better off there," Abby blurted. "…Are you?" she added, hesitantly.
Ziva thought it through. Was she truly better off in Israel?
"I do not know," she whispered, hanging up before Abby could reply.
**** NCIS HQ, next week
Tony finally returned to work, seeing the familiar open squadroom and grinning.
One handed, Tony twirled Abby around before she crushed him in a hug.
"I am a broken man, Abby," he pointed out with a smile.
"More than physically," Abby muttered to herself.
Tony glared, and plopped into his desk chair.
McGee looked up. "Hi, Tony."
"Tim! How goes it!"
"New computer," Tim said proudly, turning the monitor so Tony could see.
"Touch screen. Fancy," Tony remarked, impressed. "That must have cost a month of pay!"
"Boss somehow convinced Vance. It came in yesterday."
Tony nodded.
The next few days were spent processing reports, et cetera. Apparently, no one felt the need to kill a Marine now, which worked for Tony. Slow was good.
**** 2 weeks later **** Israel
Ziva slipped into the Director of Mossad's office. "Father, you summoned," she said n Hebrew.
"I did, my darling. I have an assassination for you. Sanctioned. Simple."
His steely eyes bored into hers.
"Anything, father."
Eli nodded, seeing something in her face.
"Your loyalty has been wavering, Ziva. Here you can prove yourself to me."
Ziva replied again, "Anything."
He slipped the photo across the desk.
"Do your best. It determines your status here."
…
Green eyes stared up at her from the page.