I'm SO sorry I haven't updated before now, but life has been absolutely CRAZY! (returning home after a year on another continent, figuring out what I was gonna do with uni and getting all my stuff ready and applying, getting back in shape and getting ready for Nationals in less than 2 months - yeah, they were last weekend, so now we're just training even harder for the European championships, since we qualified...)

Plus I'd hit a maaaajor writer's block.. but then today it all sort of just... flew out of me!

So here's the next chapter, kind of short, and haven't read it through after reading it, so there's probably mistake!

ENJOY!

Chapter 4

The strong smell of freshly brewed coffee woke him up hours later. Blinking his eyes open, he didn't need to look at his watch to know just how late it was, if the bright beams of sun making their way through the living room windows were anything to go by.

Sitting up on the couch, Tony lifted his arms over his head and stretched in an attempt of getting rid of the knots that had developed in his back and neck overnight, but the numerous cracks in his spine made him wince.

"Hungry?" His head snapped towards her, and he was unable to prevent a big smile from growing on his lips. She was still in her sweats from the night before, her hair hanging in a loose braid over her shoulder, and with the breakfast tray safely in her arms as she leaned against the doorway, Tony was taken aback at how domestic it all seemed.

"Well when have you ever known me to say no to free food?" He gave her his signature grin, and although she too was smiling, his response earned him a shake of her head as she started walking towards him, not bothering to hide it when she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe you should." He placed a hand on his chest, trying hard to look offended.

"That hurt, Ziva!" Smirking, she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch before taking a seat next to him.

"I am just saying, you never know what kinds of drugs or poison or cleaning products people put in it before offering it to you." The cup of coffee in his hands stalled mid-air, and Tony narrowed his eyes at the woman sitting next to him.

"Are you trying to tell me something here, Ziva?" Before he could stop her she leaned over and took a sip of his coffee before reaching for her own cup of steaming hot tea, and Tony took that as a sign that she wasn't trying to kill him with some undetectable ninja ingredient.

"Just that my fridge and cupboards were surprisingly empty, so you will have to settle for a bagel with cream cheese."

"And you had... that." Making a face he pointed at the offending object on the tray, earning him a stern glare from his partner.

"It's called a banana, Tony, and yes, you will eat it. I already had one before you woke up."
"But..." His whiny voice was cut off as she held up a hand while grabbing one of the bagels with the other.

"No complaining, or I'll take back the coffee."

"Yes, ma'am." Taking a big gulp of his coffee, he put the cup back down on the table and reluctantly picked up the yellow fruit, thoroughly inspecting it before pealing it and taking a bite. Ziva just chuckled as she finished her bagel, watching her partner with amusement.

"See, not so bad, is it?" Tony growled, stuffing the last bit of banana into his mouth, and they quickly finished their late breakfast in silence. But unlike what Tony had expected, perhaps somewhat even dreaded, it wasn't the least bit awkward.

"Thanks, Ziva." He offered her a grateful smile as she rose from the couch, bringing the tray with the used cups and plates with her to the kitchen, and Tony got up to follow her. "Hey, why don't you let me do the dishes?"

"Ha! You, doing dishes?" She spun around to look at him after placing the tray next to the sink. The smirk on her lips and the spark in her eyes told him that their regular banter came completely natural to her, and it relaxed him more than he'd have though to know that she wasn't just trying to act fine, that she was genuinely okay.

Perhaps he had actually done something right that night.

"You know how it is. The ladies love a man who can clean up after himself." The raised eyebrow caused the grin on his face to grow.

"So you do this a lot, yes?" She gestured around the kitchen with her hand, vaguely pointing towards the dirty plates. "Offer the young ladies you meet so take them home... so you can do their dishes." Tony opened his mouth, about to retort, but she beat him to it with a look of pure wonder and curiosity on her face. "Do they have to pay you for that? Or is it a free service?"

"You're sick, David!" That earned him a chuckle from Ziva, who pushed herself away from the counter to come stand right in front him, where she gave him a sweet smile and patted his cheek.

"But you love it." She winked at him, and before he could move from his spot she had left the kitchen.

"What about the dishes?" He hadn't even said it very loud, but it shouldn't have surprised him that she'd heard it all the way from her room.

"You can do those while I get changed, since you enjoy it so much!" He groaned, instantly hearing the amusement in her voice.

"Crazy ninja chick."

"I heard that!" Turning on the tap he shook his head and ignored her words, refusing to dwell on how she was able to hear something he'd barely even murmured loud enough for himself to hear.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gibbs had known as soon as he heard the heavy footsteps from upstairs that they didn't belong to any of his regular visitors, and even now, as they slowly descended down the basement stairs, he didn't have to turn around to see who it was.

"Agent Gibbs, I would have expected a warmer welcome-"

"Well you're not welcome in my house!" Finally spinning around to face the intruder, Gibbs was met with a just slightly stunned facial expression that didn't manage to remove that ever present grin.

"I really do not see what the big deal is." He held his arms out to the sides as a way to emphasize his statement, while he walked closer to Gibbs. "First Junior, and now you too?" The disbelieve was clear in his voice as he gently shook his head from side to side. "I mean, the mission was successful, you got your killer. So shouldn't you be congratulating me instead?"

The last word had barely left Anthony DiNozzo Sr.'s mouth before he staggered backwards from he force of the NCIS agent's fist, just barely managing to regain his balance before falling onto the floor. Pressing a hand to his nose in an attempt to stop the flow of blood, the ever present smug smile finally disappeared from his face and was replaced by a horrified look, as he stared speechless at the marine in front of him.

"That was for your son." The sound and feel of a bone breaking had been so satisfying that Gibbs didn't even register the dull ache in the now red knuckles of his right hand.

"What are you talking about?" It had taken a while for DiNozzo Sr. to respond, obviously still quite stunned. "Junior would never hit me!" Gibbs simply raised an eyebrow, amazed once more at how a clueless man like DiNozzo Sr. could have fathered a son like Tony.

"You're right, he wouldn't have." He turned his back to the other man, returning to the roof he was building for the doll house he was making Amira for her birthday. But that didn't mean he was going to let DiNozzo Sr. bask in the knowledge that he was right about something. "Because Ziva specifically asked him not to." He had just gotten off the phone with a distraught Tony not too long before his father decided to show up uninvited in Gibbs' basement. And while he had tried desperately not to share any specifics about what they'd talked about, he'd said enough for Gibbs to imagine what must have been going through both of his agents' heads the night before.

Tony, however, had commented on how Ziva didn't want him to do anything to his father, but Gibbs decided that that demand had only been directed at her partner, and not her boss. And he was more than happy to take on the responsibility of doing what they all wanted to do.

"I could have you arrested for this, you know? His voice was slightly raspy from the obviously broken nose. A small chuckle escaped the team leader's throat, but not even the somewhat threatening way his visitor showed the question at him was enough to make him turn away from his project.

"Yeah? Good luck with that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Letting out a sigh, Gibbs put down the sander, but still refrained from turning around.

"It means that if Director Vance hears about this, all he'll do is envy me for not having to behave myself do to politics." The silence that followed was enough for a smile to tug at Gibbs' lips, since he knew it meant that DiNozzo Sr. was trying to make sense of his statement.

"Oh come on, Agent Gibbs. You can't seriously all hate me that much!" This did make Gibbs turn around, and with a raised eyebrow. Not even the fact the the older DiNozzo was still holding a hand to his bloodied nose was enough to lighten the tense mood or amuse the the NCIS agent.

"Are you really this clueless, or are you just that much of an attention seeker?"

"Look, I don't know what-"

"This isn't about you, Mr. DiNozzo. It never was!" Gibbs had rapidly moved towards the older male, and within two brisk steps he was invading the personal space of his afternoon visitor, rage burning in his eyes. "Personally I couldn't care less about how self centered you are or how clueless you are. I don't give a damn about how many contact you have or how much money and how many girls you're able to charm your way to. Cause you hurt two of my agents the other night!" His voice had risen more with each word that left his mouth, and it was obvious that his famous Gibbs glare had an extra deadly edge to it today, if the look in Anthony DiNozzo Sr.'s wide eyes was anything to go by.

"Okay, I admit," Arms held up in surrender, the older one of the two men took a step backwards. "So maybe I kinda crossed the line a little bit with Ziva, but I still don't see how I hurt her." Gibbs just stayed silent while glaring at him, so DiNozzo Sr. continued. "And I haven't even had anything to do with any of your other agents, Gibbs, so how could I-"

"You hurt you son!" He had been frustrated enough with the other man to yell, so he allowed himself to take a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down before he continued talking. "And you should be damn happy that Ziva ordered hm not to hurt you, cause I can assure you that he would have punched you much harder than I did!" If not the morning the mission ended, after seeing everything go down on the big screen in MTAC the evening before, then definitely after the night he'd just spent with Ziva and everything that had been shared between the two partners.

Tony had after all called Gibbs as soon as Ziva had left for her run, because he didn't know how to feel or what to do with everything she had revealed to him. And because he needed to yell and rant about how fucking unfair Ziva's whole life had been, and that wasn't exactly something he could do with her.

"Speaking of Junior, do you know where I can find him?" Gibbs instantly recognized that he was attempting to change the subject, trying not to seem afraid of him, or at least stunned. "He wasn't at his apartment earlier, and he hasn't been answering any of my calls." Not bothering to point out how the man was ignoring everything he'd been saying, he shook his head in defeat of ever getting through to him. And there was no way he was going to tell him that his son was most certainly still hanging out at Ziva's place, with or without her blessing.

"Mr. DiNozzo, I highly suggest that you get your bags and return to New York, without trying to contact Tony again." He allowed a few seconds for the words to sink in, and when the other man opened his mouth to deliver a protest, he calmly continued, his voice sharp and icy. "And for your own safety, I'd advice that you don't ever go near Ziva again!" He threw his head towards the stairs as a signal that their conversation was over and that he expected the older man to find his own way out, before turning back to his current wooden project.

It took longer than he had expected before he sensed DiNozzo Sr. turn around to retreat up the stairs. When the footsteps faltered half way up, Gibbs knew he was about to say something, but the marine didn't let him.

"And I would get that nose checked out if I were you. Looked kind of crooked." Happy that the older man couldn't see him, Gibbs allowed a smirk to form on his lips when he felt and heard him continue defeatedly up the basement stairs.

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