Okay, here's the new chapter, I hope you like it! Oh and thanks for all your lovely reviews and messages, you're amazing, guys! :)
"I'm sure you're surprised to see me so soon after you discovered who's behind all this."
Ziva didn't say anything, so Ray continued.
"Let's say I know about the session you guys had here in the evening. Nearly the whole alphabet was here, right? NCIS, FBI, CIA... Amazing how agencies can cooperate. Too bad they interrupted that lovely card game you were playing with Tony. I'm sure you would've won, though that's not really what you had in mind, is it?"
"You were watching us, I get it."
"Yes, and when I learnt you knew about me, I didn't want to wait so I decided to pay you a visit."
"You are going back to prison, you know that?"
"Sure," he smiled. "But it doesn't really bother me. See, some of my friends are very powerful, and I am too valuable for them to let me rot in prison."
"When did this happen? You used to be such a good guy."
"Oh come on, Ziva, let's not get nostalgic. I've always been a bit crooked and you know it, you just didn't want to see it. But that's what we had in common."
"We had many things in common, but I do not think being crooked was one of them."
He nodded, with a wry grin, reached under his coat and took out a big yellow envelope. "Consider it a present."
Ziva looked at the gun he was still pointing at her, grabbed the envelope and looked inside; there was a file, a pretty thick one. She took it out and opened it.
"What is this?"
"This is all CIA has on you. Every single thing that has happened in your life is in this file. Your childhood, your first love, your career in Mossad and NCIS. There are the names of the people you have killed as well as the names of the people you have saved."
"Why are you giving this to me?" she asked, not really surprised the CIA had a file like this on her.
"Because you need to realize something, Ziva," he lowered the gun. "You judge me for the things I've done for my job, for my country, but in comparison with you, I'm a saint. My file has fifteen pages, yours has fifty."
"I am nothing like you," she refused and pushed the file aside.
"Really? Haven't you been trained to kill people without feeling any remorse?"
"You do not feel any remorse even if you kill someone innocent."
"Yes, that's the part of the job and to do my job well, I need to put emotions aside. But you know that, Ziva. Or do you want me to read you something from the file? About all the innocent people, whole families, even kids, who died in Mossad's secret missions that you were a part of?"
"I pray for them every night."
"And that makes you a better person than me, because you pray for the innocents you killed?"
"I helped more people than I had killed and I will continue helping them until my dying breath. You, you just destroy things and hurt people, who fight for justice and try to make you take responsibility for your actions. You are a coward."
"So you are the hero? You're not even an agent anymore. And speaking about hurting others... Do you know how many people got killed and hurt in your pursuit for Bodnar? You put in danger your whole precious team."
"What exactly is the point of this? Should I get mad, fight with you, shoot you, or should I cry and beg you to come back to my life because you are the only one who can fully understand all my complex feelings?"
"I sense sarcasm... You have probably spent too much time with Tony. Tell me something, Ziva. Does he know about what's on those fifty pages?"
Ziva glanced at the file.
"Of course he doesn't. Because he might not feel the same way for you if he knew."
"Tony knows enough to make an opinion on me. If you want to make me feel guilty about not telling him everything about my past, you will not succeed."
"I'm not here to be your conscience. I just wanted you to go through this file, look me in the eye and try to tell me we're so different. If you condemn me, you have to condemn yourself as well, dear Ziva."
She glimpsed at his watch. How much longer was this going to take? "Why did you kill Parsons?"
"He got in the way. You know, he got excited about going after the daughter of Mossad's ex-director who was also a great friend of Leon Vance. But I couldn't let him do that, obviously. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you."
"Why did you try to kill Tony's father then?"
"I never wanted to kill him. But your team needed something stronger than a headslap for messing with the wrong people. Plus, I don't like Tony, I never have," he shrugged.
"Well, he never liked you either," Ziva retorted; she really had had enough.
"But you did. You even considered marrying me."
"I guess I did not know what kind of a person you truly were."
"I'm just like you, Ziva. That's why you wouldn't be happy in a relationship with Tony. It simply wouldn't work."
"Let me guess, he is not good enough for me?"
Ray shook his head. "Actually, you are not good enough for him. Tony deserves some simple-minded girl who would adore him and all his childish jokes. You are a woman with a difficult past; you need someone who carries as heavy burden as yours."
"Someone like you?" she chuckled ironically.
"Maybe."
"You know, there indeed is a difference between you and Tony," she nodded. "Unlike you, Tony truly cares about others. You," she looked at him, almost with disgust, "you have always cared primarily about yourself, not paying attention to the feelings or wants of others."
"Right, Tony is the knight in shining armour, the one who always comes to help."
"You are half the man he is."
That made Ray a bit angry, of course. She could call him names, or judge him for his actions, but comparing him with Tony, making him worse or less man than Tony, that really hurt his ego. He pointed the gun at her again and closed the file. "You didn't get anything I told you."
Suddenly they heard some noise from the hall. "NCIS, don't move!" Tony shouted as he slowly walked in the living room. "Drop the gun!"
"You're not NCIS," Ray reminded him.
"I'm not, but that won't stop me from shooting you."
"You think I'm scared of you?"
"No, but you might be scared of your CIA buddies in the building across the street. Guess who's giving them orders, Ray. Yes, it's your dear friend Trent Kort. You know, I don't like that guy, but he wants to get you so badly I'm thinking of joining his fanclub. You okay, Ziva?"
"Yes, I am fine, Tony."
"Good, then step aside in case this asshole tries something and we'll have to shoot him; you wouldn't want to get blood on that lovely cardigan."
"NCIS! FBI!" they heard from the hall.
It was Gibbs and Fornell, both aiming their guns at Ray who got up from the couch.
"Hey, boss, I'm glad you're here. You can take him," Tony lowered his gun and watched Gibbs and Fornell handcuff Ray. In the meantime, Ziva took the file from the table and put it away.
"Good idea, turning off your phone," Tony turned to her. "McGee called me the minute he lost your signal."
She looked at the couch where Ray was sitting a few seconds ago. "I could've just killed him somehow, but I don't want any more blood on my hands. He deserves to spend the rest of his life in jail," she explained.
"I know. I'm so relieved you're okay."
"He didn't come here to hurt me...physically," she finally looked at him.
"I'll make sure they hurt him every possible way in prison, don't worry. Anyway, that moron broke your lock when he was picking it, so you can spend the night, or the rest of it, at my place. That is if you want, of course."
"I am just fine here, but thank you. Besides, I will need to give my statement."
"You can do that in the morning."
"I would like to get it over with as soon as possible."
"Okay, in that case I'll tell someone to watch your apartment. Can I at least drive you?"
"That would be nice, thank you," she smiled slightly at him. Ray was right at one thing after all; Tony was her knight in shining armour who always came to help her.
...
After she and Tony gave their statements at the FBI, they went to NCIS, because Vance wanted to talk to them. The sun was slowly going up, and it was quiet everywhere. They stopped for a minute in their old bullpen, to nostalgically remember not so distant good times, and then went straight to Vance's office. It was obvious he spent the night there, making calls to the CIA and FBI. There were four cups of coffee on his table, and an empty pizza box.
"You have no idea how happy I am I can go home. None of my people is a murder suspect, and apparently, the director of the CIA owes me a favour. I would like to thank you for helping with this case."
"You mean you would like to thank us for not killing Ray Cruz," Tony smiled just like a child eagerly awaiting a compliment from his parents.
"That, too. I am sure you cannot wait to go home and get some sleep, however, I would like to give you something before you do so," he opened one of the drawers in his desk and too out two badges. "It is safe for you and the team to come back now," he put the badges in front of Tony and Ziva. "Agent McGee is back on duty as well, or will be, as soon as he signs the contract."
"Can I take a few weeks to think about it?" Ziva said suddenly.
"Of course."
"I need some time to pull myself together before I start working," she explained.
"I promise this badge will wait here until you are ready to wear it again," Vance nodded.
"Thank you, director."
Tony was unable to make a sound, partly because he was really tired, and partly because he didn't expect that at all. Ziva loved being an NCIS agent; work has always helped her in the healing process.
"DiNozzo?" Vance was looking at him.
"I am honoured to be a special agent again," he took his badge and felt a familiar warmth at heart when he held it in his hand.
"Good. Your contract will be ready on Monday, then. Unless, of course, you want to take a few days off."
"No need, director. I'm ready to get back in action."
"I'm glad to hear that. Now go, get some rest, both of you. I need to go home as well, I barely remember how my kids look like," Vance laughed.
...
When the two left his office, Tony turned to Ziva. "What was that? Ten minutes ago, you were harking back to how things used to be and now you say you need time?"
"I do need time, Tony. There is something I need to do, some place I need to go, and there is a lot I need to think about before joining the team again."
"Is it because of something Ray said? Because that man is crazy and you shouldn't take seriously anything he told you."
"It is not because of Ray."
"You promised me you would stay."
"I know, and I am sorry, but certain things that happened reminded me of something. I need to spend some time alone, away from all this."
"Away from me?"
"I will come back."
"I'm not sure if I should believe you," he made a step back from her. "Something might happen tomorrow and change your mind."
She got closer to him and took his face in her hands. "I will come back. Please, give me the time I need to figure things out and do not resent my decision. I am not leaving you, or the team for good," she almost whispered and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. And then, she left. Tony went down the stairs, with a disappointed expression on his face, to sit at his desk for a while, expecting it would make him feel better, but the warmth that had filled his heart when he took his badge back was gone.
...
He left the building when people started to come to work. It was six in the morning and even though his brain and body wanted to go home, watch a few good movies, order some food and then sleep until midnight, he drove somewhere else. After all, his father wouldn't probably let him watch movies and eat take out without commenting on it annoyingly.
"Whiskey, double," he ordered at the bar and sat on the bar stool.
"Breakfast of champions?" he heard someone laugh bitterly behind his back.
"I'm not in the mood for you."
Kort sat next to him and ordered a drink as well. "I just wanted to thank you in the name of my agency."
"Your agency can kiss my ass." After all, the CIA has never brought him anything good. He had every right to detest them.
"You seem strained. But why? You got your job back, you helped to get another lunatic behind bars..."
"Yeah, a happy day indeed," Tony drank his whiskey and ordered another one.
"You should go on vacation, somewhere nice."
Tony looked at the one-eyed man and once again felt the urge to punch him. "Just go away, Kort."
"Why the hard feelings?"
"You blew up my car."
"That was six years ago."
"I really liked that car."
Kort smirked and watched Tony order another drink.
"You lied to us repeatedly and caused more trouble than you fixed."
"I also saved your ass a few times and helped you get the Port-to-Port killer. Not to mention I lost an eye when I was saving a marine."
"Your accent is giving me a headache."
"That's the whiskey."
Tony drank his glass and realized he hasn't eaten anything in quite a long time. That was not good.
"So why are you getting drunk at a bar?" Trent asked him.
"Because I can. And it would be great if I could keep getting drunk without you bothering me."
"Okay, I'm going to guess. Ziva?"
Tony put his glass down and looked at the guy next to him. "I am not talking to you." His voice was starting to shake funnily.
"I have noticed there is a special...bond between the two of you. She's a pretty special girl."
"We have no bond." It almost sounded like he was complaining.
"Really? Hmm, and I thought I was the almost blind one."
"She ran away. But you know what, I'm not gonna look for her, I'm not gonna chase her anymore. Whenever I make a step forward she makes ten steps back. I'm done with this."
"So it is about Ziva."
"I would punch you in the face if I wasn't so tired. Don't you have somewhere to be? My life sucks enough without you annoying me."
"Pull it together, DiNozzo, no one likes whiners. Focus on your life, on your job. She'll come to you, eventually."
"What can you possibly know?" Tony poked him in the arm and almost spilled his drink.
"You'd be surprised. I've seen a lot of couples, and I've had a lot of women. It's tough with girls like Ziva, but it's worth it."
"I can't believe you are giving me relationship advice," Tony laughed.
"I might be an asshole to you, but I am a human being."
"You're a dick."
Kort laughed, took a few bills out of his pocket and put them on the bar. "I'll call you a taxi."
"I have a car parked right around the corner."
"Then I should probably blow it up before you sit behind the wheel and kill yourself."
Tony got off the bar stool and leaned against the bar. "Don't. It's too soon to make jokes about blowing up my car, I'm still not drunk enough to laugh at them. And don't bother with the taxi. I'll just walk."
He didn't have to; Kort gave him a ride in his fancy black sedan. When Tony got off the elevator and slowly walked towards his apartment, he realized Trent Kort wasn't one of the bad guys. It was just the CIA that made him look bad. Tony didn't hate him (he didn't really like him, either, though), he hated the agency, what it represented. And right there, when he was trying to put the key in the lock, he hated himself for drinking on empty stomach. Oh, and also for not sending his father to Adams House. The rest of the summer looked suddenly way less exciting than when it started, back when he was trapped in a beach house, eating cookies with peanut butter by the fire, with the woman he loved; the woman who was now home, packing her bags and leaving him in DC.
What can you expect in the next chapter:
- I'm not going to give you any spoilers this time, because the next chapter will also be the LAST chapter, but I can promise you some sort of conclusion to Tony and Ziva's relationship.
Thank you for reading and let me know how you liked this chapter! The last one should be up in a few days :)