Disclaimer: Do not own any part of NCIS and am making no money writing this fan fiction
Beta: Mike 91848 who deals with the clone, thanks for your insight.
Warning: Tiva fans, beware there is no Tiva here.
CINDERELLA Revisited
Chapter Fourteen
A few days later
Abby was in her lab going over the findings of her latest test results. She wanted to make sure the evidence was solid before presenting it to Team Nabors. Then, they could happily arrest the two dirtbag navy deserter brother's for what they had done to that family.
Holiday music was playing, loud but not blasting when the sliding doors opened and Gibbs entered the lab cautiously. It was subtle but Abby could hear the slight hesitation in his step. She'd put him out of his misery and speak first.
"Morning, Gibbs." There, not too boisterous but not too doomy-gloomy, either.
"Abbs. Been kinda quiet down here lately. You still working on Nabors' case?"
"Yep. Got enough to put those dirtbags away for life. I was just getting ready to call him. Are you going to give me that Caf-Pow or just stand there holding it, Gibbs?"
"Good to hear the evidence is solid." He said as he handed over the coveted drink.
Finally, he just came out and asked. "You okay, Abby?"
"No, Gibbs, but I'm getting there. Thanks for asking. I'm going to be okay. Now go do your thing, I've still got work to do here before I can leave."
"See ya later, Abby." He left a little more reassured that she would be okay than when he came in. Because one minute, she was a rampaging on the loose Goth rhino, slapping people around right and left, and the next, she had morphed into the old Abby before the bullying, bulldozing and bellowing orders had taken over her essence. Something happened but he didn't know what. McGee might know some of it, but he wasn't talking.
Ncisncisncisncis
When Gibbs left, Abby breathed a sigh of relief and let some of the sadness reappear. She was headed to a counseling session called Self Help for Women with no Respect for themselves or the men they choose to be with. SHOWMYR or, show me-show you respect was headed by, off all people, Connie Martinez, who had thoroughly kicked her ass the other day in front of a slew of people with phone cameras.
Of course every one of those people who took pictures worked for a Federal Agency and were being watched and easily identified by Big Brother as they clicked away. They knew better than to put any pictures of what happened in that building on the internet, so her batgirl ass never went viral, but it was close.
Abby had cried for three hours straight after making it home from the eavesdropping session from hell. Matt's laugh that she used to think was so cool and sexy now just reminded her of a laughing crazed hyena mixed with a braying donkey he haw as she ran from the sound of it to her car.
After stumbling to her apartment and taking a long shower she still felt covered in her own slimy hubris. Everything that Matt the Vile had left in her apartment she had clumped together on the floor, and along with her own items of humiliation; the short skirt she'd worn, knee-hi's and red underwear, had put them in a black industrial-sized bag along with a glass incense burner, a dozen candles, and several musical instruments.
She took the bag to the alley behind her apartment building where she set the candles in a circle and lit each one before lighting the incense. She dumped the contents of the bag into an empty garbage can and set them afire piece by piece in a ritual voodoo cleansing ceremony that involved wailing and drum beating, and gnashing of the teeth, along with Chinese chanting and bell jingling and caterwauling. All to her neighbors' utmost, disgusted, swearing annoyance that that crazy, scrawny, Goth witch, chalky skinned, bat girl vampire was at it again.
Now, she lay curled up in her bed under her grandmother's home made quilt, a cup of tea and toast for dinner. She was full of remorse, embarrassment and self-loathing. Among other things, she had questioned Tony's veracity, his freedom of choice whether it be over his body or his choice of friends and his right to his privacy. She knew she had lost her friendship with Tony that would leave a hole in her heart that would never heal.
And Tim hadn't been the same towards her since well...since the dog, Jethro. Ever since that case, and Mexico, and the last time he had tried to follow Gibbs' orders to babysit her over the genius lady case had ended with him getting in trouble again, he had been different, cooler, a little aloof and not always available at her beck and call.
She had chosen to ignore the subtle signs, taken it all for granted going about her merry gothic way knowing that when she was ready, Timmy would be waiting in the background. But she had blown that also. Timmy wasn't waiting for her. He had chosen to stand by Tony rather than help her. As well he should.
Around nine, she had received a call from Matt the Vile. He left a message when she didn't pick up. "Hey, baby. Where you been? You didn't come to see me tonight. Anyway, they're letting me out on a two-day pass tomorrow. Pick me up around 0600. I want to get in a round of golf before a cocktail party I need to attend later. Sorry, Babe, no guests allowed. These are friends just trying to help me get over some of the things Tony DiNozzo has ruined in my life. I hope you let him have it good"...click...bzzzzzz
The phone had cut off his too long message so he called back. "I got cut off, babe. But listen be at the sanatorium at 0500 instead. That'll be plenty of time for you to get me to the club so I can have breakfast with some friends before the game. Sorry, just club members allowed.
"And hon, do whatever you need to do to get some closure for yourself for that loser gang of friends you thought you had at NCIS especially DiNozzo for what he did to me. You haven't forgotten have you doll? Because of him..."click...bzzzzz
Did Mr Vile even know that his own personal lackey chauffeur had a real name? Abby had listened through her tears to each and every word he spoke as part of her well-deserved and just punishment.
The phone rang a third time. "This is Connie Martinez. If you're there Ms Sciuto please pick up." And she had.
Ncisncisncisncis
"Useless talk like boat without oar, get no place."
"Confucius, Ducky?" Jimmy Palmer crowed knowingly.
"Charlie Chan." Gibbs said as he entered autopsy briskly. He gave Palmer a semi-glare which in Gibbs speak meant find a few pipettes. One of these days, Palmer thought, I'm going to tell Gibbs the dictator where to put those pipettes.
But not today, he decided, when the semi-glare heated up. "I'm taking my ten minute break, Dr Mallard," and Palmer gave his own glare as he left the room.
"I do believe Palmer will make his move shortly, Jethro. Better watch out my dear boy, he can be a handful." Ducky chuckled as he removed his safety glasses and stripped off his gloves.
"Can't I just head slap him, Ducky, like all the other's?"
Ducky smiled while shaking his head at Jethro's newspaper puppy dog solution. He then turned serious when he spoke of Abby.
"Did Abby confide in you and is it anything you can share, Jethro?"
"Abby said she was working on being okay. Whatever that means, Ducky. What did you find out?"
"Not I, Jethro, Palmer. And this is rumor or gossip or an office memo, whichever makes your conscience feel better."
"My conscience is fine, Ducky. Just give me the bare details."
"Very well. Abigail attacked Ms Connie Martinez in security, something about making her tell the truth or else, at the top of her lungs, mind you. Needless to say, Abigail ended up eating the ground, Palmer's words, in a very compromising position. Miniskirt, you understand? However, Ms Martinez being a very nice person allowed her to retain some dignity and did not press charges. That is all the scuttlebutt I know, Jethro.
"And I must say that Abigail appears to have calmed down considerably since that episode. I hope that her spirit has not been broken or that she is able to recover from this horrendous error of judgement she has made in the person she chose to champion. Plus, she has a great deal of humble pie to eat if she is to make right her relationship with Anthony.
"I shall have her over for a meal and cup of tea at my home, Jethro and share a quote from George Bernard Shaw that might help her a little. 'Life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but useful than a life doing nothing.'"
"Yeah, it's easier to eat crow while it's still warm. Don't know who said it but I like it better, Ducky."
"You would Jethro, you would." Ducky shook his head at the idiosyncrasies of his old friend as he easily pushed the tray containing their latest dead body guest into its refrigerator unit and closed the door.
"Speaking of which, now that we are caught up for the day it is time for a nice spot of tea. Are there any hits on our sting collaboration with the FBI, yet?"
"Still waiting, Ducky. Our mark was definitely taking in the conversation between Tony and McGee. One thing I'm gonna have to recommend to the Director, though."
"What is that, Jethro?" Ducky questioned as he turned on one of the burners and placed a teapot of cold water to heat up.
Taking that as his cue to meander away as it was too early or too anytime in the day for Earl Grey, Gibbs headed for the glass doors.
"McGee should never work undercover."
Ncisncisncisncisncis
"McHam! When you're trying to be inconspicuous, you don't fling your arms around and make comical faces. You want to underplay your roll, not act like you're in a William Shakespeare play with Bill Shatner playing McBeth."
"Tony, shut up. I was improvising. I can't help it that I forgot my lines after some guy bumped into the waitress and she spilled a teapot of hot water almost in my lap. I should sue the dive. I just barely held back the scream. Good thing I had my napkin in my lap and the menu in front of me, otherwise can you imagine what a 3rd degree burn would be like there..."
"Ehhh, yeah. That would not have been a good..."
"And running out of there like that, well, it just emphasized how appalled I was at your wanting me to become involved in your disgusting fraudulent undertakings and slimy criminal enterprises. So just admit it, my ad-libbing was genius."
"Goody-Two-Shoes, girly girl..." Tony mocked with a snooty pout.
"Goody what...? What does that mean...?"
"You three done?" Gibbs resumed his seat after his trip to the coffee shop.
"Yeah, boss."
"Of course, Gibbs."
"Sure, boss."
"I meant have you three done any work today?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes unbelievably at the denseness. Tony jumped up and carried a folder to Gibbs' desk and then turned on the plasma screen.
"Ziva." Tony pointed the remote and waved it at her to start talking and she growled at him under her breath with her usual resistance at being told what to do, especially by him.
"Of course, Gibbs." Ziva said, making a face at Tony as she picked up a printout from the FBI. "We have been monitoring the calls of the sleazy dirt bagful guy from the diner, Gibbs. His name is Richard Mason, known as Rich. He only receives calls from a person named Cooty Pie three or four times a day. Cooty Pie appears to be his significant other as they live together. No idea if they are married or not.
"We have been able to determine that Cooty Pie's calls are coded messages from her. Those are the only calls he receives as they do not have a landline in their apartment. He got a call from Cooty Pie at the Diner after having breakfast then proceeded to the Pizza Parlor and dropped off a package and picked up another package and then bought a large combination pizza. He received another call from Cooty Pie and proceeded to Hamburger Haven on Belton Street. That was his last stop where he dropped off a package and picked up a sack of greasy hamburgers before he left.
"I believe it's dirt bag and Cutie Pie, Ziva." McGee was forthcoming when Tony only looked down at his shoes and snickered.
"Excuse me?" Ziva looked daggers at Tim, far from wanting to be excused.
"Never mind."
"The FBI was finally able to access her burn phone which she changes every day and will now be able to monitor who is calling her." Ziva finished her verbal report.
Tim picked up when Ziva stopped talking. "Boss, I have the computer set up so that if there is anyone snooping or there is an inquiry regarding the 10 mil we'll get a ding. I've got it set up at home also."
"McGee, don't sit up all night again waiting for that thing to go off. Get some rest. We can't do anything in the middle of the night anyway." Gibbs noted the bags under Tim's eyes.
"Yeah, McGee, I told you..."
"DiNozzo?"
Tony left off pestering McGee and turned to the screen with alacrity. "Boss, I just got this from Dorneget. I went in the front of the building this morning after getting coffee at the kiosk. Ned said he was following somewhat behind me when he caught this guy taking pictures of yours truly. He said it was a phone camera so no high tech stuff. But, if I'm not mistaken, isn't he the guy who was sitting at the end of the counter at the Diner who McGee almost ran into in his hysterical girly rush from the place. Because I could swear it was the same guy."
McGee got up from his desk as did Gibbs and stood in front of the screen. "You're right, Tony. That is him, same comb over and yellow puce tie. And it wasn't a girly hysterical run, DiBozzo." He had to add in an annoyed undertone to Tony.
"What do you think is going on, Boss, two different groups after me, again? These two guys don't act like they know each other or are working together, do they?"
"Beats me, DiNozzo. And I don't like not knowing. I'm waiting on a call from Fornell. Somebody get that photo to Abby for a facial recognition doohickey thing she does and..." Gibbs turned around when no one moved and studied his investigators. Tony's face was impassive. He'd go if ordered, no doubt. McGee looked embarrassed. Yeah, he knew something alright. What was Ziva's problem?
"Ziva, see if Abby can figure out who this guy is."
"Certainly, Gibbs." Ziva transferred the image from her computer to Abby's then left to follow up.
Gibbs reclaimed his seat before speaking again. "DiNozzo, things can't go on like this for long. I've waited to see if either one of you wants to talk about what happened, see if we can't negotiate a truce, because believe me, I feel like I'm in a terrorists war zone camp.
"And you know voluntarily talking or listening is the last thing I want to do on the face of this earth but...if the friendship is strained, can you still work with Abby professionally, Tony?"
"I'm impressed Gibbs. That was a lot of words you strung together there..."
"DiNozzo, answer the question."
"I won't have a problem working with her professionally. I've worked with people before who couldn't stand me. Hell, I was raised in a house full of people who couldn't stand me. But I won't give her the chance of slapping me in the face again, Boss. That's not going to happen again, ever.
"Professionally speaking, I'll have her up on charges, in handcuffs, a restraining order in place and her job, if she comes near me with that intention again." Tony didn't raise his voice but he was dead serious.
Gibbs could only sigh and nod he understood and internally hope it didn't come to that.
"What about you, McGee? You got a problem working with Abby?"
"She came to my place, was annoyed at my new lock, new password, absent Jethro, absent coffee, and wanted to use my computer to find the names on the class action suit, I thought she was going to beat me up, I kicked her out, she went somewhere else, she tried to manhandle Connie in security with bad results, there are pictures of her batgirl underwear with her in them, and I have no problems working with her, Boss."
McGee hated himself. He had just babbled what he wasn't going to blab no matter the torture or amount of pain inflicted on him. And no one had even asked him. And he was a guy, albeit a weak, guilty guy, so yes, he had taken a peak at the picture before ripping the newbie probationary intern a new one for showing it around and then ripping up the picture.
Tony was smirking and Gibbs was staring. McGee's computer made a noise and he thanked the computer goddess for her intervention.
"We got a hit, boss."
Ncisncisncisncis
"Good morning, Abby." Ziva greeted the forensic technician warily. Was she in line for a hard right smack to the face? She'd prepared herself in the elevator for a non- lethal way to defend herself from Abby if that were the case.
"Ziva, what can I do for you?" Abby turned from her microscope to address Ziva pleasantly.
"Oh, yes, ah. I emailed you a photo of a man who was taking pictures of...Tony. We need to try and identify who this person is. Gibbs would like you to do a face recognition search and see if you can come up with something."
"Fortunately, I'm caught up so I can get started right away. Let's see what we've got. You'll be the first to know, the minute I find something, Ziva." And she turned to her computer to get started, and turned back around when Ziva didn't leave right away.
"Something else, Ziva?"
"Ah...yes. Is everything alright, Abby? You do know, if you would like to talk about...well anything, I am more than happy to listen. Or, we could have a girl's night at the spa with no talking. A hedonistic back rub and massage, chocolate and wine. We haven't done that in some time."
"That sounds wonderful, Ziva. Right now, though, I'm in the process of self-cleansing and rejuvenation which includes mental purging and regulation. So I won't be able to join you for a while. I am also attending classes for women who suck at picking out good men.
"There's a class tomorrow night if you'd care to go with me. Not that you need cleansing or purging, Ziva, although CIA Ray was a doozy and Rifkin was abominable...Now you see why I need these classes, Ziva? I can't control what comes out of my mouth sometimes. And I know that sometimes I can say things that are really hurtful and I know how I feel when someone says something bad to me. But I'm trying to curb my tongue and actions and I am getting help so thank you for asking and when I'm ready, we will go have some fun." Abby turned back to her computer obviously wanting to be alone.
Ziva looked perplexed at Abby's back before turning to leave the lab. She had understood most of Abby's mile a minute speech and it sounded like she would be okay, but classes for women who suck at picking out good men? What was that all about?
"Tony is a good man, Ziva. A really good man. Don't wait too long if you want him."
Abby said this as Ziva crossed to the other side of the lab doors and the doors closed, but the words were distinct and clear.
Ncisncisncisncis
When she returned to the bullpen, Tony and Gibbs were standing in front of the plasma screen watching the binary numbers flow while McGee sat at his desk, fingers flowing rapidly on the keyboard.
"You go, McGee. Come on, don't let them get away. What'd I teach you?"
"Nothing, bonehead. Got it." McGee, quietly triumphant, used his better skills as he tracked the signal to its origin.
"Yea, McGee. They're good but not that good!" Tony started and McGee joined in, "Smart, butnot smarter than me, yes!" They crowed and high-fived together, while Gibbs was looking for the rolled up newspaper.
"What movie is that from, Tony?" Ziva started before being interrupted by McGee's dismayed cry.
"No! This can't be good. Ah, shoot, we know this address."
"What is it, McGee?"
"The inquiry came from someone in the DiNozzo Building in New York, Boss. Give me a second. I'll have the computer location from the office it came from." And he continued his key tapping.
Tony had returned to his desk at this information and was fiddling with his Mickey Mouse stapler. Ziva used Tim and Gibbs' preoccupation to approach Tony, who was now twiddling with his stapler and humming some tune under his breath. At first he seemed to take no notice of her but when she hit his desk with her knee to attract his attention he stopped twiddling and humming.
"No, Ziva, I have no idea."
"About what Tony? I have not asked you anything yet."
"Oh, sorry. I was waiting for that snarky remark, you know, how I must have done something wrong again. But really, Ziva, I have no idea why this keeps happening to me."
Tony was friendly talking to his partner, a little preoccupied, not totally focused on her as anything other than his partner as had been his attitude for a while now. No flirty innuendoes, no sly looks, or busybody spying on her phone calls or emails.
"That's not why I came over here..."
"Got it! DiNozzo Building, fourteenth floor, New York City." McGee turned and noted a silent DiNozzo and a frowning Gibbs. Ziva was looking...annoyed. And it dawned on McGee what they all must be thinking. Well he didn't know what Ziva was thinking.
"Well, that eliminates the DiNozzo's as our suspects."
"How do you figure that, Tim?" Tony asked with casual indifference.
"They already know about Tony and what they thought was his ill- gotten filthy money. By this time, the PI they hired should have the preliminary report completed and their findings will show that the money is legit and taxes have been paid. There's no reason for them to still be looking."
"Hmm, good point. Who, then?" Tony perked up a little and stopped his fiddling hands.
Ziva spoke from her position at DiNozzo's desk. "We know the Las Vegas project was able to proceed when the owners cut back on the size of their hotel and the land that freed up was used for their access road. Therefore, that deal is no longer a threat."
"Can you pinpoint exactly where in that building the computer activity is being generated from, McGee?"
"There are over two hundred businesses renting space in that building, Boss. I'll narrow it down to the companies on the fourteenth floor and see what we come up with. Alright. Office 14C. It's a Jewelry Store, wholesale and retail. Public walk-ins welcome. Gems and stones bought from them or privately owned cut to suit on the premises."
"A front?" Gibbs first thought.
"Or an individual with a legitimate job working on the side and using that address and their computer?" Tony hopped from his chair and stepped around Ziva to join the other men at the screen. Ziva scowled at his easy dismissal of her, leaving her standing there while he went to play with the boys.
"Except, you don't believe in coincidences, Boss. What's this person doing in the DiNozzo building looking for dirt on me? We need to get in there, talk to some people..."
"Hold on, Mario. You're not going anywhere. You show your face and the gig is up. McGee pack your gear. DiNozzo, I don't like the idea that some guy is close enough to take pictures of you with a phone camera. Get Dorneget up here and has Abby been able to ID this guy yet?
There was an instant of flurried controlled activity as the team carried out its orders. Abby walked briskly into the fray with a printout clutched in her hand.
"I've got a name for this guy, Gibbs. It's Michael Bristly, unemployed medical supplies salesman originally from New Hampshire. Arrested once for trying to sell an X-ray machine he stole from a hospital there. He served six months and paid a fine. Nothing since then."
Everyone had stopped what they were doing, even Tony who had his phone halfway to his ear, ostensibly to hear her info, but more than likely to stare at the Goth changeling. McGee, a fan of science fiction, had the idle thought of going to the lab to find the pod probably already taking shape on her futon.
At Gibbs, "Good work, Abby," activity started up again as Abby smiled tentatively and quietly took her leave. Attuned to the uneasy atmosphere, Abby indeed had a great deal of lukewarm crow and too spicy humble pie to eat. But she had made her bed and no one had ever said she was without fortitude. She had the plate, fork and knife ready for a big honking helping in due time.
"Ned'll be here shortly, Boss, wants to know what's going on. So do I. What's the plan?"
Gibbs walked away from his desk a few steps obviously thinking then walked back and sat down. "Need to talk to Fornell first." And he got on the phone. Dorneget arrived just as he hung up.
"McGee and I'll drive to New York to buy some diamonds. Fornell will meet us there. FBI is able to tap phones quicker then we can. Dorneget, you stay with DiNozzo, let it be known your place is flooded or whatever and you're camping with him. I don't like the idea that someone's stalking you, DiNozzo. And until we find out how all this is related you'll have a roommate."
Before Gibbs could assign her a task, Ziva spoke up quickly.
"Gibbs, wouldn't it be better if I was assigned to bodyguard Tony? This is nothing against you Dorneget, but I am the more experienced agent at this type of activity and if someone is after him, my skills would serve Tony better."
Why did Gibbs get the feeling this was not a request?
"I prefer you stay here, Ziva. Coordinate with the FBI, and pass on any info between the two agencies. I want Tony to have someone watching his back and it would seem more natural if he did this with Ned here, more or less showing the newbie the ropes."
With those orders, he turned away, not even considering that she would challenge him.
Ncisncisncis
"Make yourself at home Ned. Choose a bedroom in the back and stow your stuff. I'm gonna change then see what my tenant has left to eat. She usually puts a dated dish in the refrigerator every few days to reheat in the oven." Tony talked while he changed into worn jeans and a sweater and some wooly slippers.
He made it to the kitchen and found his reward. "Mmm, enchiladas. There's a list of takeout in the drawer if you don't want this delightful homemade delight, Ned."
"Nope, it sounds perfect." Dorneget came out of the back bedroom also having changed from his suit jacket into a heavy sweater. "Great place, Tony. Actually, wow! You've seen my digs..."
"And you love your loft, Ned. That's all that counts."
"You are so right, Tony, my man. So, in spite of Ziva's put down, I've checked all of the windows in the back and they are securely locked. You've got the security alarm working and I noticed a security surveillance setup directly to your laptop. Good. I took the bedroom next to yours and we'll sleep with the doors open. I'm a pretty light sleeper but I'm going to set up a few surprises just in case."
"Is that what you have in that extremely large carryall Ned? I knew it was too big to just hold your clothes. Don't you think you're overdoing it, just a little?" Tony had removed the piping hot casserole from the oven and set it on the flat stone on the counter.
"Didn't half a dozen men break into this place not too long ago and try to fill you and your brother's bodies with numerous rounds of lead, Tony?" Dorneget had found plates and silverware and was placing them on the table.
"Okay, good point. Hey, you're not taking anything Agent David had to say seriously are you. I trust you, and I know that you can shoot."
"If she wasn't serious then why would she say it, Tony? However, I will not allow her opinion to dictate my actions and my responsibility. Gibbs trusts me. I think that's more important, anyway, than what any jealous female might feel."
"What? What are you talking about? Ziva's not jealous. Certainly not over me." Tony laughed, entirely amused as he raised his fork to his lips and bit into the savory mixture of hot and spicy.
"You do realize don't you Tony that she feels I am in competition with her because even though you are not gay, I am? You never know how a woman's mind works. At least that's what my father always said anyway. The two of you..."
"Ned. Back up there. There is no two of us. We are not two of anything. We have never been a twosome. We are not joined at the hip, we do not finish each other's sentences, we...well you get the picture.
"Now, I might admit if I'm drunk enough, that at one time, I could have had some feelings for her, other than, you know, doing the..." and he made a very suggestive motion with his hand, "but that's not the case today. "She's my partner, I'd take a bullet for her but there is no us. Anyway, we'd be at each other's throats if we had to spend a day together much less occupy the same space 24-7at work and at home.
They were sitting at the table across from each other relishing their meal. Tony had gotten a beer for himself but Dorneget said he was still on duty so opted for a root beer soda instead. Dorneget was an easy guy to talk to and Tony found himself finally being able to put into words why he and Ziva would never be a couple.
"I want love in my life not competition or a battle on who can show the most aggression. Maybe I'm just getting old, well, older, but it's just not exciting for me anymore to spend my time exerting my energy to see who's going to be on top because with someone like Ziva, if you give in to have some peace and harmony, she will see that as having won the battle for headship and you'll never get it back if you ever had it, or even share it, because, she won't share. Ugh, who wants to live like that?"
Tony's face took on a softer, contented look. "You know, Ned, I need to thank you immensely, my friend. I never thought it out like this before. My girlfriend Margret, when I think of her, I think, what would she like? How would she want to do things and I know she thinks the say way about me, so thank you very much."
"Glad to be of ..." The doorbell rang before he could finish his sentence.
Both men got to their feet quickly and had their weapons in hand.
"You expecting anyone? I'll check the door, you stay here." Dorneget checked his weapon then started walking to the door when the doorbell rang again. Tony rolled his eyes as he caught up to Mr Eager Beaver.
"Hold on now, Proby, take it easy, whoa there." Tony joked as he got in front of Dorneget. "Let me find out who it is before you go shootin' anyone's head off through the door, Stumpy. That's from Rio Bravo, by the way. Great western directed by Howard Hawks, with none other than John Wayne as sheriff John T Chance.
"WHO IS IT?"
"Tony, it is I. Would you please open the door?"
Ncisncisncis
"Ziva? What the...what are you doing here, Ziva? Something happen?" Tony quickly opened the door to find the Agent burdened down with several canvas bags and a bottle of wine.
"What's going on?" Tony had relieved two of the bags from Ziva as he showed her to the kitchen. Dorneget had disappeared into the living room and switched on the TV.
"Tony, calm down. Nothing is going on. I just thought I would make a home cooked meal for you since no one can be sustained on pizza seven days a..." Ziva paused as she entered the kitchen and saw the decimated casserole dish and the dirty plates still on the table.
"Well, it appears I have spoken out of turn again. You do eat food that is not pizza."
"What'd you mean Ziva? Tony started to remove plastic containers from the bag.
"Umm, are these potato bourekas?"
"Why yes, Tony. How did you know?"
"Oh, I have a friend who travels quite a bit. When she gets a chance to go to Israel, she always brings me a few of these because I love them so much."
Her back to him as she removed the rest of the food items, Ziva asked without thinking, "One of your Bimbo's is old enough to travel by herself, Tony?" Thus did not see his face when he turned around.
Tony placed the container of bourekas on the table as he turned to stare at Ziva's back.
"Ziva, why are you here?"
"Tony, I..."
"Tony your cell phone was ringing so I answered it. It's Gibbs." Dorneget handed Tony his phone, who walked out of the kitchen with it plastered to his ear. Dorneget went to the refrigerator and helped himself to another cold root beer and a crisp apple. He snatched a napkin from the elegant silver napkin holder which was really too refined for the lowly white paper napkins it held and started to go back to the living room.
"Ned, wait just a minute." Ziva called him back. Ned turned at her summons, having just bitten into his juicy apple which he chewed and swallowed. "Yes, ma'am?"
"There's no reason for both of us to stay here tonight. I will relieve you for the rest of the evening and you may return in the morning after breakfast to relieve me. That way you can have a good night's sleep and be fresh in the morning. This should work out until Gibbs returns in a few days." Ziva had gone back to storing the food containers in the refrigerator.
"Ah, no Agent David...Gibbs instructed me to remain with..."
"Gibbs did not want Tony to be alone, Ned. It does not matter which one of us is with him and I...we...Tony and I need to discuss some things together, alone, you understand?"
When Tony returned to the kitchen, Ziva was alone. The kitchen had been cleaned and the food put away except for a chocolate cake proudly displayed on a vintage glass cake stand with two antique crystal dessert plates, along with the wine in a cooling silver bucket and two crystal, long-stemmed glasses.
"Hey, it's grandma's cake stand. Where'd you find this? I don't know half of the stuff that's here, Ziva and I keep telling myself that I need to take better stock of what I've got. But who can find the time, right? We work for Gibbs the slave driver." Tony chuckled as he checked out the cake and sneaked a swipe of chocolate icing with his finger to get a taste.
"I would be more than happy to help you take inventory, Tony. We have this weekend free and it appears you have a lot of expensive items..."
"It's not that, Ziva. It's sentimental but it's my grandma's stuff. My caregiver Janes, my surrogate grandfather, really, had a lot of her things and things they bought together in a storage locker he had them put there right after she died. When I was settled, he gave me the key and told me to do what I would with the stuff. Anyway, let's have some of this cake. Where's Dorneget? He likes cake. It's a secret but you can bribe the man with any kind of cake."
Ziva found that Tim had been right. Tony talked willingly about himself, not self-conscience at all about his love for his grandmother and foster grandfather. She wanted to get to know this Tony who was not the 'meatball' she had scornfully labeled him.
She called Tony back before he could go looking for the other Agent.
"Tony, could we just have the cake and wine by ourselves for right now. I wish to talk to you."
Tony trotted back in the room looking concerned for his partner. "Sure, Ziva. Are you alright?" He sat down at the wrought iron chair she indicated. The Pomegranate vintage dinette set made of wrought iron and glass fit perfectly with the modern stainless steel appliances and natural marble tile floor.
Ziva was cloaked in feelings of familiarity and 'home.' Her father's home in Israel was just as elegant and beautiful but lacked the warmth it had had when her mother was alive. Here, she felt that warmth and comfort again as though the love Tony's grandmother had felt for him permeated the rooms, contained in her things that he lovingly took care of.
"Ziva, you're starting to scare me now. The cake looks great, the wine enticing but I'm not eating a thing 'til you talk to me." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest like a very spoiled adolescent which she knew he had never been.
She forced a fork in his hand. "Quit being a baby, Tony. This is homemade cake and wine imported from Israel, eat! I will talk."
Tony frowned and grumbled at being referred to as a baby. He was being insulted in his own home. But he took a large forkful of cake anyway and started to eat.
"I have been wondering if perhaps we have put off furthering our relationship long enough. We have been hemming the issue for years, I know. But neither one of us is getting any younger and I wish to have children someday.
"Since you have not asked me, I have adopted the American way of courtship and am asking you for a date. I know Gibbs rule 12 is in place for a reason but I am sure we can circumvent his issues or we just won't tell him right away."
Ziva had been watching him the whole time she had been speaking. He was chewing the cake robustly as he stared at her but seemed to be having a hard time getting it to go down his suddenly dry throat. He picked up the glass of wine and took a large sloppy gulp not even tasting the perfection of what was probably a very expensive and very rare wine.
After that, as would be expected, he choked on the wine and coughed for five minutes trying to clear his airway so he could breathe. Ziva banged on his back and was thinking of mouth to mouth next when he gave one last desperate cough and expectorated a blob of gooey brown stuff all over the glass tabletop.
Ncisncisncis
He recovered and sat awkwardly on the sofa with a glass of water clutched desperately in his hand.
Exasperated, Ziva spoke roughly to the shell shocked man.
"Oh come on Tony, what is the problem? Surely, this is not a new concept to you?"
Tony cleared his throat, and cleared it again. "Ziva, this is so far from my conception of you and me that you might as well be on the moon you are so far off the track."
"What are you saying, Tony, off the track?"
Tony placed the glass of water on the table and stood up. His voice was kind. "Ziva, I don't want to date you. I don't feel that way about you. I don't know that I ever did. To be honest, years back I probably would have had an affair with you in spite of rule 12 but now, it's just...it's not what I want..."
"Tony, I hate to disagree, but that cannot possibly be true. It seems you still do not truly know your own feelings." Ziva smirked knowingly as she sat back in her chair and put her feet under her, making herself supremely comfortable.
"What are you talking about?"
"My father made the right call when he said you killed Michael out of jealousy. Jealousy over the affair we were having. You risked your life to come to Somalia to rescue me. A man who does not love a woman would not behave that way."
"Now look, Ziva. I'm trying to tell you...see now that's where you're wrong. I thought you were dead. I went for revenge not unrequited love, Ziva."
"You protest too much, Tony."
"What? You're kidding me, right Ziva? This is all a big joke to get back at me for, well, whatever I did recently to piss you off. But it's not funny."
"I am being serious. I would like to start dating immediately and we will see where it goes from there. I will talk to Gibbs about it if you are not comfortable doing so."
He couldn't believe he had another crazy woman to deal with. She would talk to Gibbs if he wasn't comfortable...did she expect him to hide in the girly bathroom while she took the hits from Gibbs? Did she even know him? He was supposed to compete with her for his manhood?
"Ziva, listen to me. I do not want to date you. I do not feel that way about you. I'm not interested in having a relationship with you. I have no..."
"May I ask why? There are a woman's personal items filling the cabinets in your bathroom. Is this Barbie Doll the reason you will not give us a chance, Tony?" Her arrogance and self-assuredness were amazing.
Now she was headed into forbidden territory. He would not play tug of war with Ziva over his girlfriend. He was trying to hold onto his temper because he didn't need another Abby brawl. And no matter how skilled Ziva was at hand to hand combat, he'd be damned if he'd let another woman beat up on him because of his own chivalrous nature. Plus, in view of her own feelings of superiority in everything related to him, what in the hell did she want him for? His screwed-up gene pool?
"Ziva. Please just believe me when I say we will never have a future together. You will find someone else and be happy with him. Have children and boss them all around but it just won't be with me."
He looked at her and couldn't believe she considered this a prelude to dating. He liked feisty woman, he loved them actually. Paula could chomp him to bits and Kate had been up in his face toe to toe. When Abby had been sane, they, along with Cassie Yates could get into some serious mischief together. Hetty had taken great pleasure in giving him a hard yank or two. Dr Cranston and Agent Borin were fun and lively, like his grandmother and Victoria Mallard, and Margret.
But Ziva. Geez. No, she wasn't fun or lively in the right way. A sinisterly creepy, horror house, fun-filled way was Ziva. And she was lively alright like a deadly asp viper. Raised Mossad along with her own personality, she had motive to her liveliness and purpose to her fun. She'd try to eat him alive, tear him down and keep him there with one foot on his bowed head for her fun. Oh dear god no!
"You are so sure, Tony? But I am not. I can wait for you to dump your latest girlfriend as you always do, but I won't wait too long for you to make up your mind."
Tony sighed. This was going nowhere. "You seem pretty sure of yourself, Ziva, but you'll be waiting to eternity because my mind won't change its mind. And tell me something, what in the hell do you want to date me for? Half the time you act like you can't stand me and the rest of the time, I'm nothing but a clueless clown who you don't respect, and whose orders you may or may not obey in the field. What could you possibly..."
Enough of this. He was tired.
"Look, Ziva, thanks for the food, cake and wine. And please take the leftovers if you so desire but I think you should leave now.
He finally figured out she was being dead serious and this was no joke. It stopped being even mildly entertaining when she brought up his girlfriend, and at her foregone conclusion that because she said it was to be, it would be.
She looked truly surprised. "What you said Tony that is not true. I do respect you. Surely, that is not what you think of me? And anyway, I cannot leave. I am your babysitter for the night." If possible, she became one with the comfortable chair, stretching and purring like a cat.
"What! Where the hell is Dorneget?" He started towards the guest room.
"Do not bother, Tony. I told him to go home he was relieved of duty, and to come back in the morning after breakfast."
"What? You relieved him of duty? You can't do that! He left his post?" Ziva just smiled and shrugged like what else was he supposed to do.
Tony looked not one bit amused as he called Dorneget on his cell phone. "Dorneget! Where the hell are you? What do you mean walking the premises?" Tony walked to the front door and flung it open. "Get in here, Ned."
Ziva sat up when she heard Ned speaking as the men walked back to the living room.
Damn!
She couldn't help blurting out before she could stop herself. "What are you doing here Dorneget? I relieved you of duty and told you to go home!"
"You told me to go home true but I don't take orders from you so that wasn't gonna happen."
He dismissed her without another thought, which did not sit well with her, as she opened her mouth to berate him for his insolence. Dorneget turned his back and reported to Tony. "I walked the premises every hour and everything appears quiet. I sat in my car the rest of the time."
"Good man, Dorneget, good man." Tony patted his back in approval. Ziva saw Tony's stony face when he turned to her and realized she may have gone too far.
"I am sorry, Ned. I was not thinking when I told you to leave your post. I am glad you did not listen to me. And since you are here, I shall go home where I should have stayed in the first place. Please enjoy the food and the cake. I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight. We will talk about this again, Tony. Yes?"
"No, Ziva. The subject is closed. Don't bring it up again remember we still have to work together. Goodnight." He got the distinct feeling from her closed off expression that the subject was not closed for her.
Ncisncisncis
After Ziva left, he went into the kitchen, got a plastic bag and pulled all the containers of food she had left out of the refrigerator and dumped them in the bag. The damn murderous cake went in also along with the fine wine that almost had him choking to death. The women on his team were acting crazy. He couldn't be too careful. This stuff was going to the landfill to kill some rats and other rodents, not him.
He wasn't the least bit flattered by Ziva's declaration of whatever that had been. He hoped that she could maintain her professionalism at work because he would not put up with anything else from her. How did his life get so complicated?
"And it's skirting the issue, not hemming Agent lost your mind David."
Ncisncisncis
A/N: Thank you for continuing to read this story. It's been fun writing and the story's not over yet.
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