"Two hours." Tony bargained, fighting the urge to brush the stray curls off his partner's face. "Give me two hours, then I'll move along."
Ziva watched his face, and considered that for a moment. She nodded. "Two hours."
He bit his cheek. "Two hours."
Before all of the craziness started, not even in his wildest dreams did Tony imagine that he would actually do whatever it is that he's about to do. In fact, he would not even consider it. When he went to Gibbs days ago, he thought that his plan to do a Jedi mind trick on Ziva ala Gibbs would be the extent of his foolishness. That's it. He already conjured an elaborate ruse to stop her from leaving, with him pretending to being shot and all that jazz. It was all planned out—hell, he actually thought it would work. But boy, oh boy. How wrong he was to think like that. That it could be that simple.
I am not going without you.
She said that to him years ago, and it may not be as memorable for her as it was for him given that their entire office got blown up to bits immediately thereafter, but those few words still rings inside his head like they were just uttered yesterday. And although his initial scheme of pretending to get hurt maybe stretching those words out a little, he had no doubt in his mind that it would actually do the trick. At least enough to delay her plans until they know more. Abby thought so too, since he already got her on board.
Until Adam ruined it all. Like he always does. If there is ever a career for being a life ruiner, he'd definitely be that guy. He fought the brewing urge in the pit of his stomach telling him to punch him in the face again.
But things are different now. Instead of only despising and mentally shooting douchebag Eschel repeatedly, Tony has found himself helping the man in executing his plans as well. Make no mistake, Tony trusted Adam only as far as he could throw him, but his gut knew that he was telling him the truth when he said that he has no ill intentions against his partner. He could still remember their conversation a few days ago in Paris:
"How about Aunt Nettie, how can you ensure her safety?" Tony asked, still not a hundred percent convinced that his plan would work.
"I know people." Adam vaguely replied. "And by the way, I believe Ziva's aunt can take care of herself just fine."
Tony briefly wondered if his belief that Nettie used to be a super spy was not as delusional as Ziva once pointed out. "I knew it."
Adam chuckled. "Well, most people don't so let us keep it that way, shall we?"
"I think it's time we go on the specifics." Tony absently sipped his coffee. "Before I could fully agree to it and completely bet my life against Ziva's wrath."
"You will go back to Washington D.C. and act as if nothing happened." Adam began, "when the time comes to take action, you will know."
Trust Adam to come up with a shady plan and ever a shadier approach on how to do it.
A not so strong smack to the chest pulled Tony out of his reverie. Apparently, Ziva, who had been driving aimlessly for five minutes, finally got sick of his former co-worker's sudden catatonic state.
She asked. "Did you just hitch a ride to stare blankly at the windshield? I asked you where you wanted to go."
He rubbed his chest, feigning hurt. She's still pissed at him—that much he could tell. "I don't know."
She slowly put the car to a stop near a small corner deli. If he intended to waste her morning, she might as well fill her stomach with actual food. "Why are you really here?" Part of her tone was threatening, but she mostly sounded just tired.
"Is there any other way to stop you from leaving?" He told her gently, staring straight at the windshield in an attempt to hide the hope in his eyes. Maybe there is another way to stop her. Maybe he didn't have to connive with Adam in his secret plans after all.
To his disappointment, she crushed his optimism before it could truly take form. "You are planning something. I can feel it." She was frowning at him. "And I am telling you, it is not going to work."
He pursed his lip; the words he practiced all night seemed to have evaded him. Since he creating an impromptu story wouldn't exactly work on her, he decided to stick to as much truth as he can. "I was planning something, yeah."
She turned to stare at him, but he refused to meet her halfway. "Was?"
"Yes! Was! Past tense. God!" He half yelled at her. "I was planning to get shot… well, technically, not shot, shot. But you know what I mean."
Ziva scrunched her eyebrows. It's not possible that she heard that right. "You planned what now?"
"Forget about it. That plan is flawed. I scrubbed it." He admitted, shaking his head. He finally turns to look at her. "The thing is, yours may be flawed too, and I—the team—we could help you."
"Tony, I am not planning anything." She told him with gritted teeth.
He would've probably bought that if Adam had not read him in about that whole Nettie death threat situation. "Let's just stop here and eat, alright? I did not come to argue with you again."
She sighed heavily and nodded. She could tell by his body language alone that he's not being entirely truthful to her. "Alright."
The call came in when Tony least expected it. Ziva was in the bathroom, half of her philly cheesestake sandwich left untouched on her plate, when Tony's phone vibrated inside his coat pocket. The number was unregistered, but he'd bet his life savings it is the Ziva's shady Middle Eastern friend.
"DiNozzo." He answered curtly, a sheer force of habit as it seemed.
"Is she with you?" Adam asked in a low voice. Traffic sounds can be heard from his side of the line. He sounded like he was speed walking through throngs of bickering pedestrians.
"Kind of." Tony said. "She'll be back soon."
"I'm about ten minutes away from her apartment. Do you think you could delay her return for a couple of minutes?"
"Sure I can." Tony replied with doubt etching his features. "Though I'm not exactly sure if I should. What are you planning to do in there?"
"Surveillance." Adam told him. "I do not like being blindsided. I need to know if she's setting up anything else behind my back."
Bet you do, Mr. Super Spy, Tony almost wanted to say. But he stopped himself in time. "I am starting to think that this is not a very good idea."
"Do you want Ziva dead?" The bluntness of Adam's question hit him painfully inside his chest. Of course he doesn't. That doesn't mean he'd go all the way and invade her privacy like what Adam's currently doing.
"I only want what is good for her." Tony glanced furtively at the bathroom door where Ziva disappeared to. "And I don't think going through her stuff is one of those things."
"The end justifies the means." Adam replied. "I do not have time to argue with you on this matter."
"I am not a fan of you being all matahari on me, 007." Tony said. "Tell me your plan now, or I'll personally drive Ziva back there before you can even say James Bond."
Tony's threats seemed to have worked because the next words he heard made him run to where Ziva just went without even thinking. His hand was frozen on the door knob, still debating if he should go in or not.
"I am trailing after a group of known European assassins for hire who are about to reach Ziva's front door." Adam spat. "If you want to serve your partner to them on a silver platter, then by all means, be my guest. Otherwise, do as I say, do you understand?"
Etiquette and Ziva's fury be damned, Tony opened the door to the ladies' room.
"Shit." Was all that Tony could say. It was empty.
"Tony?" Adam apparently held on to the line. He heard Tony curse under his breath, and it made his gut churn. "What is going on there?"
"Ziva's gone." Tony said, frantic.
A stream of gunfire not so far away tore Adam's attention away from his phone and towards the direction of Ziva's apartment window. From his position, he could tell that gunshots weren't one-sided. It's a full on gunfight.
Tony heard them too. His heart clenched inside his chest, making breathing exponentially more difficult. Damn it, Ziva. "Is she there?"
"I got to go." Adam told him in a hurry before hanging up. At that point, Tony was already running outside the restaurant, looking for a cab. He gave a quick glance at Ziva's car, parked not so far away. He knew it's unlikely, but he still kind of hoped that he'd find her sitting there instead of where Adam and the gunfight were. She wasn't.
To Tony's relief, the cab driver took Tony's badge quite seriously. They probably have violated at least eight different traffic rules before they could reach their destination. Not that the cabbie looked like he minded. He even seemed to be enjoying himself, breaking all those rules.
When he finally arrived at her building, quite a number of people were still scurrying away to safety. Tony guided all he could to less exposed places, his thunderous heart notwithstanding, while he took the stairs two to three steps at a time. He reached her floor in record time, and wasn't exactly pleased to find it empty.
Gun drawn, he carefully made his way to her door. Pleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedead.
It was Ziva's voice that welcomes him. The utter nonchalance in her voice almost made him want to strangle her for scaring him shitless like that. "Ah." She began, not even the slightest bit winded from whatever fight it was that practically pulverized her apartment. "There you are."
Tony did a quick scan of Ziva's body for any injuries. Finding nothing—not even a single scrape—he finally found the strength to release the breath he didn't know he was holding.
Her place was a mess, well, unless bullet-hole polka dots are your thing, and your dream house requires to be decorated by at least three dead bodies. She was standing in the middle of the living room, or perhaps what used to be her living room, with a tight expression on her face. Adam was nowhere in sight.
"Sorry for running off like that." She said, seeming not even the least apologetic. She wiggled her phone in front of him. "I saw it all on my phone. The cameras I installed in my apartment showed a couple of men forcing their way in. The feed stopped when I was already halfway here. Now, they're all dead."
Adam, Tony thought glumly. He killed them. He considered feeling grateful for his nosy ways, saving Ziva's ass like that, but he couldn't bring himself to.
"I had to check it out." She reasoned.
Add more fuel to the fire, will ya? Tony was beyond furious. "And the best way you could think of is dealing with them all by yourself?"
"Did you hear the part where I said that they are already dead when I got here?" She replies nonchalantly, dumping her phone on the table. "I am fine, Tony."
Yes, but you didn't exactly know that before you arrived. "You've totally gone cuckoo's nest." Tony muttered bitterly. "Did you even consider what I would feel if you ever got sho—"
Tony's words were suddenly cut off by a familiar low sound which came whizzing past his elbows.
Ziva falls to her knees.
After that, everything was a blur. He could barely remember ducking towards her partner, and hastily pulling her out of the view of the window. Though he tried to cover her with his body, he knew it was too late. She had already been shot.
Ziva was groaning softly as he diligently used his jacket to put pressure on the gunshot wound she's sustained on her right thigh. It wasn't bleeding much (thank god) but a gunshot wound is still a gunshot wound. "Fan-freaking-tastic!"
"It's a flesh wound, Tony." She muttered through gritted teeth.
That was not exactly the reassurance that he needed. "I don't fucking care! You're still shot!"
His little retort accidentally forces the jacket to press a little too tightly against her bleeding limb. She cursed underneath her breath. The injury is minor, but it still hurt like a bitch.
Tony, with the intent of calling for reinforcements (aka his former gunnery sergeant boss), took out his phone from his pocket. He was about to dial Gibbs' number when the same number his Israeli pal used appeared on screen. Adam sent him a message.
She can't run now. You're welcome.
Tony's blood turned cold all of a sudden. This was Adam's grand plan? Shooting Ziva in the leg so she can't run?
He knew he should have just stuck with his original plan. Pretending to get shot seemed more appealing right now, and honestly, it started to sound less stupid. He made a mental note to scrub the dude's sorry face off with his fist the next time he sees him.
There is no way in God's green earth will he ever let Adam do all the planning again.