Disclaimer: Don't Own, not rich
This fic is based during the fourth season when Tony is in the beginning stages of his undercover op with Jeanne.
The fic can be seen as Tiva for those who want it to be, but can also work as a general story.
"How is the assignment going, Agent DiNozzo?" asked Director Shepard, handing Tony a cup of coffee as he sat in her office.
"Fine, Director," said Tony. "Though I'm starting to feel a little uneasy about this whole thing."
Jen smiled slightly. "First off," she said. "Call me Jenny. Secondly, relax. With your track record, this assignment probably won't last long."
Tony tried to not look as insulted as he felt. "For your information, Jenny, Jeanne and I have a great relationship." He stopped to look down at his coffee cup. "That's why I feel so insecure about this whole thing."
Jenny's eyes widened in surprise. "You're telling me that you, Anthony DiNozzo are falling in love with the one girl that you shouldn't?" she asked. "I thought you've never had a girl last for more than a month before."
Tony sighed in exasperation. "I'm not falling in love with her," he said, though not as confidently as he would have liked to. "But I do care about her. She's a good person and doesn't deserve to be used so I can go on a long shot mission to get close to her father."
Jenny understood what Tony was going through, but she wasn't going to lose this chance. "Tony," she said, "I realize this is hard for you. Trust me, if there were a way, I would have used Ziva for this, since she's trained for it, but I can't risk one of La Grenouille's clients recognizing her."
"He does to a lot of business with the Iranians. They probably have a full dossier on Ziva just for being the daughter of a Deputy Director in Mossad," said Tony, sighing and scratching his head. "Still, is this guy really worth potentially ruining a young woman's life?"
The Director looked up at Tony with the iciest eye he'd ever seen. "Yes."
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Ziva didn't think she had ever been more excited to see Gibbs than when she saw him sitting at his desk and ready to take over again.
It wasn't that she didn't have faith in Tony's abilities as an agent. She just wasn't comfortable with him in charge.
Before Gibbs left, the Tony and Ziva had been partners. The weight of Tony's new responsibilities hadn't stood between them as it did once Tony took the reigns. Then Tony had been so busy trying to be Gibbs, he'd almost completely forgotten to be Tony. Well, at least not around her.
Recently, he'd seemed to be more irritated by her than anything for reasons she was unaware of.
Her head shot up from looking at her paperwork as Gibbs' phone rang.
"Yeah," said Gibbs. "Sure, I'll send over two of my agents." Gibbs hung up the phone. "Officer David," he said without looking up from his computer.
"Yes, Gibbs?"she said, standing and walking over to stand in front of her boss's desk.
"Find DiNozzo. Local PD found a dead body when they went to investigate a domestic disturbance call. The body's a dependent." Gibbs looked up at Ziva. "His wife's a marine serving in Iraq. They have two kids."
Ziva nodded. "Do you want me to pick up the kids before we begin investigating?" she asked. "Or do they have someone in the area who can take care of them?"
"The closest relative lives in New York," said Gibbs. "He won't be able to make it until tomorrow. Bring the kids back here, and I'll go check out that crime scene with McGee." Gibbs looked around the bull pen. "Where the Hell is DiNozzo?"
Ziva sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Not here," she said, stating the obvious.
"I noticed that, Officer David," said Gibbs. "Find him."
Ziva nodded. "I'll call him on my way to the station," she said, grabbing her gear and going to the elevator. Usually, she would wait for Tony to show up before she went out, but, with two kids out there, she knew she couldn't wait for him to reappear from wherever he disappears to during the day.
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The insistent ringing of his cell phone distracted Tony from his conversation with Jeanne over the best cop movie ever made. Motioning for Jeanne to wait with his hand, Tony checked the caller ID. "Ziva," he muttered quietly to himself. Looking up at Jeanne's expectant face, Tony turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket.
"Who was it?" asked Jeanne with a smile.
"Oh, just a coworker who wishes she were you," said Tony, nearly wincing when what he'd actually said registered in his mind. Wow, Ziva would kill him if she ever found out he said that.
"Really," said Jeanne. "Is she going to be a problem?" she asked, leaning over the table towards Tony.
"No," said Tony, smiling tightly. "She never goes beyond calling me, and she respects my privacy. She just likes to check up on me." Secretly, Tony hoped Ziva was just checking up again. Even if the Director had instructed him to prioritize this mission over all routine cases, Tony couldn't help but feel guilty about constantly abandoning Ziva on cases.
"Well then," said Jeanne, smiling seductively. "Where were we?"
Tony couldn't resist the charm and beauty of the woman sitting across from him. Flashing his own charming smile, Tony hailed the waiter. "Check, please!"
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"Dammit, Tony," said Ziva as her call went straight to voice mail. When she heard the beep, Ziva practically shouted into her phone. "Where the Hell are you, Tony? We've got a case and I need you to help pick up some witnesses!" She was going to say more, but she was cut off as her time ran out. She was going to call again when she discovered that she had arrived at the local police station where their victim's two children were being cared for as they waited for NCIS to show up.
Parking her Mini, Ziva took off her sunglasses and pulled out her badge as she walked up to the building. After flashing her identification, she was allowed to pass the metal detectors and was ushered into a cluttered office.
There, she was met with two very different faces. The first was that of a teenager whose sleeveless attire showed off her intricate tattoos. The girl's hair was bleached almost white with the exceptions of random streaks of pink. Ziva smiled. The moment she got this girl back to the Navy Yard, she was going straight to Abby.
The little girl sitting next to her big sister was completely different. The small child looked to only be in her first years of school. The brunette was wearing a sports jacket that proudly displayed the name of what appeared to be a local peewee American football league. The moment Ziva entered the room, the little girl had flashed the Mossad Officer a bright smile, showing off her missing teeth.
"You must be from NCIS," Ziva looked up to meet the eyes of the greying police officer who approached her to shake her hand.
"Yes," said Ziva, taking his hand in her strong grip and giving it a firm shake. "I'm Officer Ziva David."
The man smiled as he looked over her shoulder. "Your boss said there'd be two of you."
Ziva suppressed a frustrated sigh, silently promising pain in DiNozzo's future. "My partner was called away to work on another case." Quickly changing the subject, Ziva gestured to the girls. "Are these Staff Sergeant Katz and her husband's children?" she asked.
"We're her children," said the teenager from her slouched position. "Not her husbands."
"Oh," said Ziva, taken aback. She had not been informed of this. "Where's your father?" she asked.
"Dead," said the teenager curtly. "He died in a car crash when I was nine."
Ziva was suddenly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know what it's like to..."
The teenager cut her off. "Don't be." She said simply.
Ziva understood that this part of the conversation was now over. She offered her hand. "Ziva," she said, giving her permission for the use of her first name.
The teenager seemed to contemplate the hand for a moment before pushing herself out of the chair and taking the agent's hand. "Simone," she said, giving Ziva's hand a strong shake. Suddenly, the seemingly sullen teenager broke out into a smile that could rival Abby's. "I hope the tats and hair don't make you nervous."
Ziva laughed. "You should see our forensics expert, Abby," she said. "She's the happiest goth in the world."
Simone's smile faded as she said, "Look, I'm sorry if I was too edgy. Our stepfather was the only man in our lives that was always there for us. My sister's never known another father."
If Ziva was going to say anything, it was cut off when the previously silent little girl spoke up. "Hey, don't I get to meet the cop lady?" she asked eagerly, delaying any further discussion of her stepfather's death.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ziva, crouching down to the girl's eye level and extending her hand. "And who might you be?"
"My name is Rosalind January Katz, and I love football," she said, smiling brightly, and zealously shaking Ziva's hand. "You can call me Rosie."
Ziva was impressed. The child was obviously not the shy type. This would make gaining her trust infinitely easier.
The cop, who had remained silent throughout the introductions spoke up. "Well, girls, it's been a pleasure." He put a hand on Rosie's shoulder, and gestured to Ziva with the other. "Officer David will be taking you guys to her office until your uncle can come pick you up."
Rosie surprised Ziva by nodding and taking the spy's hand. She looked trustingly up at Ziva. "I'm ready when you are Ziva," she said, pleasantly.
"Okay, Rosie," said Ziva. She turned to the teenager. "Ready to go, Simone?"
Simone grabbed a messenger bag covered with bumper stickers and buttons and a small backpack which featured the picture of some, undoubtedly famous American football player. "Yeah," said Simone, shouldering the bags.
"Is that all your stuff?" asked Ziva, eying the small bags.
"It was all we could grab before the police sealed off our house," responded Simone. "It'll be enough to last us until our uncle gets here."
Ziva nodded reluctantly. "If there's anything you need," she said, "we can always stop and get you something."
Upon reaching her car, Ziva was unable to withhold a smirk when the girls gasped upon seeing the bright red Mini.
"Whoa," said Simone, practically drooling over the car. "I love Mini Coopers."
"How are we all going to fit in there?" asked Rosie, eying the small car septically.
Ziva smiled at Simone, before making a show of scratching her head and cocking it to the side as though she were pondering the question. "I don't know," she said. "I guess we'll just have to try it out and see."
Simone smiled at Ziva, opening the passenger side door and pushing the seat forward. "Come on, Rosie," she said. "Climb on back there."
Still looking apprehensive, the little girl maneuvered herself into the back seat, looking around in astonishment once she sat down. "Wow!" she said with wonder. "How did it get so big in here?"
"It's secret Israeli technology," said Simone, winking at Ziva whose eyebrows shot up at the mention of her homeland. "You are from Israel, right?" asked Simone.
"Yes," said Ziva. "How did you figure it out?"
"Well," said Simone. "As you might be able to tell from our last name, my family's Jewish. I went to Israel last summer with my Hebrew class. I noticed your Star of David, and recognized your accent."
"Really?" said Ziva. "Did you have fun?" she asked.
"Actually, yes," said Simone. "I didn't think it would be after all the stuff I saw on the news."
Ziva smiled gently. "I'm glad that you saw the beauty through the haze of conflict," said Ziva. "It truly is a wonderful place if you get to know it."
"Hey!" called Rosie from the back of the car. "Are we gonna blow this popsicle stand or what?"
"The princess has spoken," said Simone with a smile, and both women sat in the front of the car.
"Are we all buckled up?" asked Ziva, turning to look at Rosie.
"Of course," said the girl. "Only dummies don't wear their seatbelt."
At her sister's comment, Simone quickly fastened her own seatbelt. Ziva nearly laughed out loud at the embarrassed flush on Simone's face.
Noticing, Simone snapped, "So, are we going or not?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Ziva. "Tell me if my driving makes you nervous."
"What?" asked Simone only to be cut off by Rosie's screams of delight as the car lurched forward and screamed out of the parking lot.
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The police officer at the front desk watched as the hot chick he noticed come in earlier walked out with the two Katz kids. He was surprised they only sent one agent to get them.
Not that he was complaining. It certainly made his job easier.
He picked up the phone and started dialing. "Hey, Josh," he said when the person picked up. "They just left, and there's only one agent with them; a chick." He smirked into the phone. "Call me when you catch up to them."
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"Hey, Ziva," called Rosie from the back seat, breaking off the two older ladies' conversation.
"Yes, Rosie?" asked Ziva, looking at the girl through the rearview mirror.
"I'm hungry," said Rosie, pouting her lip a little and crossing her chubby arms over her chest.
Simone spoke up before Ziva could respond. "Actually, now that she's said it, I'm hungry too."
"When was the last time you two ate?" asked Ziva, running down a mental list of all the take out places she knew on the way to NCIS. Both girls shrugged in response. She was a little concerned at how many she could come up with. She'd been spending way too much time with the team. "If we call now, there'll be a pizza waiting for us at NCIS when we get there," she said, relying on the proven favorite of many American children.
"Pizza!" cried Rosie excitedly. "With extra cheese?"
"You bet," said Ziva, already pulling out her cell phone. "How about you, Simone? Pizza okay?"
"Sure, sounds good," said Simone as she looked at the phone in Ziva's hand nervously. "Are you sure you should be calling while you're driving?"
Ziva laughed out loud. "I'm sorry, does it make you nervous when people talk on the phone while driving?"
"When you do it, yes," said Simone as she grabbed the door handle as they whipped around a turn.
"Alright," said Ziva as she pulled into a parking lot. "I'll pull over."
As Ziva talked on the phone, she noticed that the car she had spotted tailing them five minutes ago had pulled into the parking lot as well. She hadn't said anything because she didn't want to worry the girls, and after a few blocks she thought she'd lost them.
Obviously not.
The Mossad Officer snapped her phone shut and placed it in her cup holder. Keeping her eyes on the car that had pulled in a couple of spaces away from them, she slowly shifted into gear. "Girls," she said carefully as her foot hovered over the accelerator. "We're about to go really, really fast. I want you both to get down as low as possible."
Simone's eyes widened as she saw the hand Ziva placed on her gun, pulling it from its holster. "Whoa," she said, staring at the weapon. "What's going on?"
"Just do it!" snapped Ziva before she floored the gas pedal.
Both girls hunkered down in their seats as the tires squealed as they raced out of the parking lot.
Rosie curiously twisted in her seat to look out the back window. She screamed when she saw a man in the car behind them pulling out a gun. "ZIVA!"
"ROSIE, GET DOWN NOW!" screamed Ziva, noticing the gun as well. The girl huddled up into the corner of the bench seat just before bullets started smashing into the rear windshield. "Cover your ears!" she shouted as she took out her Sig. The moment both girls had their ears plugged, Ziva fired a few rounds out through the back of the car while weaving through traffic. One of the shots got the front passenger in the shoulder, and the apposing fire stopped.
"Simone, call 911, tell them there's an officer in distress on this street in a red Mini Cooper with two civilians!" instructed Ziva, tossing her phone at the wild eyed teenager. When Simone hesitated, Ziva yelled, "DO IT!"
That got Simone into action. The tattooed girl quickly followed the instructions. The moment she was done, she snapped the phone shut and slouched more in her seat. "They said there's a black and white in the area that should be able to help us."
Simone suddenly screamed as more bullets flew through what used to be a window.
"They just don't give up, do they?" said Ziva, unable to use her firearm as she used both hands to whip through traffic and make her way around a corner. Once they were on a straight street again, Ziva twisted in her seat again, gun out. "This one goes in your heart," she said darkly, firing her weapon.
The guy in the car pursuing them suddenly slumped in his seat. Ziva turned back to her driving, hoping their pursuers weren't as crazy as her as to have their driver start shooting too.
"Look, it's the cops!" cried Rosie excitedly as she saw the red and blue lights outside her window.
Ziva was about to give a sigh of relief when she noticed the police car made no attempt to hinder their pursuers. "Simone, did you tell the operator what car we're in?"
"Of course I did, I'm not an idiot," said Simone angrily from the uncomfortable looking position she'd forced herself into to stay belted and low.
"Unbuckle your seatbelts and get on the floor!" instructed Ziva urgently.
"Why? The police are here to help us!" cried Rosie.
"Just do it, Rosie," said Simone, who had easily sensed something was wrong from the look on Ziva's face.
Rosie looked like she was ready to keep protesting when the cop car suddenly slammed into the side of their vehicle. Needless to say, the girl needed no further prompting.
Ziva grit her teeth as bullets suddenly smashed through the passenger side window, one nearly hitting Simone, who crouched even lower.
"That rips it!" said Ziva, causing Simone to look up at her questionably when she heard the idiomatic mistake. "We're changing plans!"
Horns blared and tires squealed as Ziva swung the car around, joining the apposing traffic.
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McGee glanced up at Gibbs as he walked in bearing a pizza. "Did DiNozzo order that?" asked McGee, noticing the logo of Tony's favorite pizza place plastered all over the top of the box.
"No," said Gibbs, dropping it on his desk. "Ziva did. I guess the kids were hungry."
"Do you know when she and Tony are going to get back?" asked Tim, glancing at the clock on his computer. "They've been out for a while."
"Hopefully soon," said Gibbs. "The girls' uncle just called. Seems he managed to get a free flight from a buddy of his and he'll be here in an hour."
"Should I call Tony and tell him?" asked McGee.
"Tell him what, Probie?" asked Tony as he sauntered through the door with a very satisfied look on his face. The date with Jeanne had gone very well.
"Where's Ziva and the girls?" asked Gibbs, noticing the absence of his agent and the kids.
"What?" asked Tony, looking completely baffled.
"What do you mean, ‘what', DiNozzo?" said Gibbs, anger seeping into his voice. "Didn't you go with her to the local PD to pick up Mr. Katz' daughters?"
"Umm, no," said Tony, getting a cold feeling in his stomach. "But, I take it I was supposed to."
"Ya think?" asked Gibbs, standing from his chair so quickly that he sent it flying back. "Didn't Ziva call you?"
Gulping nervously, Tony nervously reached into his pocket and removed his cell phone. He switched it on under the watchful eye of Gibbs. Ziva's name popped up five times under the missed calls list. "I guess she did."
"AND YOU DIDN'T ANSWER?!" yelled Gibbs, his face turning red. "God dammit, DiNozzo, is ‘never be unreachable' an ambiguous rule?"
"Boss, I'm..." before Tony could finish whatever he was going to say, the phone on Gibbs desk began to ring.
"Ziva?" asked Gibbs the moment he picked up the phone.
"No, Jethro. It's Jenny," said the Director over the phone.
"Jen? What's going on?" asked Gibbs.
"We've received a video conference transmission from the Israeli Embassy," said Jen. "It's about Ziva."
"I'll be right there," said Gibbs, slamming his phone down. "McGee, DiNozzo! MTAC, now!"
"This can't be good," said tony, as he followed Gibbs.
Tim stayed silent. The younger agent wasn't sure what he thought about Tony obviously leaving Ziva out to dry, but he knew that Ziva was in trouble because of it.
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The red Mini barely made it past the gate of the Embassy before the cop car zoomed past. If they had been any slower, they wouldn't have made it to the sanctuary. Fortunately for them, the cop chasing them wasn't stupid enough to try and violate the sanctity of a foreign embassy.
"Ziva?" asked Rosie timidly as she climbed back up on her seat.
"Yes, Rosie," said Ziva as she tried to catch her breath.
"Where are we?" asked the little girl, as she hugged her backpack to her chest.
"A safe place," said Ziva, reaching to undo her seatbelt when she noticed some secret service and Mossad Officers coming to her car which was stopped right in front of the main doorway.
"Officer David?" asked one of the Mossad officers as he approached the vehicle. "What happened?" he asked when he saw the bullet holes in the windows and doors.
"I need to call NCIS," said Ziva, grimacing, suddenly as a sharp pain attacked her. Ignoring it as best she could, she continued. "These girls are witnesses in a murder investigation. Someone just tried to kill them. My supervisor, Agent Gibbs, will know what to do."
"We'll get someone right on that, Officer David," said the Israeli, sending another man in with the message.
Nodding, Ziva gave the girls as reassuring a smile should could manage under the circumstances. "It's okay, girls," she said, gently. "These are my friends from Israel. They're always eager to help our brothers and sisters who practice our religion."
That was all the prompting the girls needed. Simone gratefully opened the door, glad to be out of the uncomfortable position she'd been in. Her sister practically flew from the car and into Simone's arms, seeking the comforting embrace her big sister was happy to give.
Satisfied that the girls were going to be okay, and had apparently not suffered any injuries during the chase, Ziva shoved her own door open before promptly falling out on the pavement.
"ZIVA!" screamed Rosie, when she saw the woman fall to the ground. The child ran over to the other side of the car. What she saw caused her to bury her head into her sister's shirt.
Ziva lay on the ground surrounded by the security officers, blood pooling beneath her from wounds in her shoulder and lower back.
"No," whispered Simone. "No, not Ziva too."
"What is going on out here?" the voice of Officer Michael Bashan broke through the chatter of the officers. His eyes widened when he saw who the woman was that lay on he ground. "Ziva?" he said in shock. Realizing that his men were standing around doing nothing, Bashan barked out orders. "What are you all standing around for? Call the medical staff, now!"
"Michael?" Ziva's voice, which had been so strong and commanding only minutes earlier, was now weak and dragging with exhaustion. "Please take care of the girls."
Bashan was about to ask what girls when he saw the two young ladies standing horrified as Ziva was born away toward the building. Putting on his best smile, Officer Bashan approached the girls. "Come, my children," he said gently. "Lets get you inside where it's safe."
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Gibbs was deadly silent for the duration of the car ride. Tony didn't know whether to be relieved or very afraid. Catching sight of his boss's stormy face, Tony decided it was probably the latter.
Of course, Tony had long ago decided he deserved whatever cruel and painful punishment awaited him once Ziva was okay. He should have been there with her. If he'd been there, maybe those bastards wouldn't have attacked. Instead, he had been having a lovely dinner with a charming and beautiful girl in complete safety.
McGee was also silent. The usually inquisitive agent hadn't spoken a word since Tony had walked in the squad room. The only communication Tony had with the younger agent was the looks of betrayal he would occasionally shoot the senior field agent.
"We're here," said Gibbs, curtly, driving through the secured gate.
Inside, they were greeted with a white haired Israeli who looked like he could use a drink.
"Special Agent Gibbs," he said, extending his hand. "Ziva will be thankful for your quick response. I'm Officer Michael Bashan"
"How are She and the girls?" asked Gibbs, getting right to the point.
"The girls are fine," said Bashan. "They're a little shaken up, but a little ice cream seems to have helped."
"And Ziva?" asked McGee, speaking up for the first time in an hour.
Michael took off his glasses and sighed deeply. "She was in our medical center being treated for multiple gun wounds, but we've moved her into a lounge with the girls at her request."
"Will she be alright?" asked Tony earnestly. A wash of guilt flew over him. He'd ditched Ziva, and now she could be dying.
"She'll be fine," said Bashan, a smile gracing his features. "She lost a great deal of blood, but her wounds were mostly superficial."
Gibbs smiled gratefully at the Mossad officer. "Thank you, Officer Bashan," he said.
"It was our pleasure, Agent Gibbs. Ziva is like a daughter to me and is very respected in our organization," said Michael. "Would you like an escort for yourselves, and the girls to ensure no problems on your way to NCIS?" he asked.
"Actually," said Gibbs. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."
"And what favor is that, Agent Gibbs?" asked Bashan.
"Could you keep the girls here until we catch the guys behind this? This is the safest place for them," said Gibbs.
Bashan smiled and bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Agent Gibbs. I would not wish for Ziva to have been injured in vain."
"My thanks once again, Bashan," said Gibbs, nodding his head slightly.
"Can we see Ziva?" asked McGee, only looking at Bashan.
"Of course," said Bashan, stepping back and sweeping his harm out. "Right this way."
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Rosie and Simone sat next to each other on a plush, overstuffed love seat. Stretched out on a comfortable looking couch next to them was Ziva who had insisted on being removed from the medical wing the moment she woke up. The in house doctor had allowed it on the condition that Ziva kept her iv drip and blood transfusion in.
Worried that the dark red blood bag might disturb Rosie, Ziva had protested, but had eventually been overruled when Michael came in to see how she was doing. Instead, Ziva had contented herself to using the pole as a coat rack to cover up the bags.
Both girls had become notably more comfortable since Ziva had been moved out of the hospital like infirmary. Now it just looked like she was sick, and only requiring some chicken soup to get better.
"Hey, Ziva?" Rosie spoke up tentatively.
"Yes, honey?" said Ziva, putting a hand to her forehead where a massive headache had developed thanks to the stress of the situation.
"I'm still hungry," said the child, putting a hand to her growling belly.
At that moment, all of the tension that had developed during the intense chase was alleviated. Both Ziva and Simone threw back their heads in laughter.
Rosie looked angry. "What's so funny?" she asked in an offended tone.
Ziva stopped laughing long enough to reassure the girl. "Oh, it's not you sweety. Rosie and I are just laughing because it was silly for us to forget your dinner."
"I might be able to help with that." Gibbs smiled as he entered the room, Ziva's pizza held securely in front of him. "It's a good thing that the embassy called. I was about to eat this all by myself," said Gibbs, making a show of sniffing the pie and licking his lips.
Rosie smiled at Gibbs antics. "You're silly. You can't eat a whole pizza," she said, giggling.
Gibbs pretended to ponder Rosie's comment. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "I guess you're right. Do you think you could help me with this chow? Miss..."
"Rosie!" said the girl excitedly. "Actually, it's Rosalind January Katz." She pointed to Simone. "This is my big sister, Simone June Katz, and we would love to help you with that pizza."
Gibbs walked up to the girls and presented his hand for the shaking. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs at your service," he said gallantly as Rosie and then Simone shook his hand . What about you, Ziva," asked Gibbs, turning to his agent.
"Sorry, Gibbs," said Ziva with a smile. Gibbs' way with children always amazed the Israeli. "Only liquids ‘till tomorrow."
"Awww," said Rosie, pouting. "That's not fair!"
"It's okay, Rosie," said Simone, patting her little sister on the shoulder. "It's a big pizza.
We'll save some for Ziva for tomorrow." This seemed to appease Rosie, and she happily opened the box and started to inhale a piece of pizza.
"Easy, Rosie," said her sister. "Remember to chew."
"Mmmmm," said Rosie happily. "This is great!"
Ziva laughed. "That's what I said the first time I had this pizza," she said with a smile, remembering how Tony had badgered her the whole first week she'd been on the team to go to this place near the Navy Yard. Her face suddenly sobered at the thought of Tony. She wondered if he even realized she had been in trouble.
Gibbs smiled, surprised at Ziva's ease when it came to dealing with the girls. He turned around as the door opened, revealing McGee, DiNozzo, and Officer Bashan.
"Girls," said Officer Bashan, moving out of the doorway. "Why don't you take your pizza into the dining room while these agents and I discuss what happened today?" As the girls nodded and headed toward door way, Michael spoke up again. "Oh, and your uncle will be here soon. The three of you will be spending the night."
"Really?" asked Rosie happily. "Is Ziva staying too?"
"You bet she is," said Gibbs before Officer Bashan could answer. He obviously didn't want there to be any question about whether Ziva would stay under the protection of the embassy. Whoever was after the girls had seen who it was that thwarted their plans, and Ziva might suffer from reprisals.
"Yay!" said Rosie, bounding over to the prostrate Liaison Officer giving her a hug. "It'll be like a sleep over!"
Ziva chuckled. "Yes, I guess it is like that."
"Come on, Rosie," said Simone from the doorway. "Let's let the grownups talk."
"Okay," said Rosie, running over and taking her sister's hand. She turned back and waved at Ziva. "See ya tonight, Ziva!"
"It's a date, Rosie," said Ziva, waving as the girls walked out of the room.
Once the girls were situated in the dining room, Bashan returned, immediately sending the NCIS agents a stern look. "Would any of you like to explain what, exactly, is going on?" he said sternly. "I would like to know why my officer has been shot by one of your American policemen."
Ziva opened her mouth to answer, but Gibbs cut her off. "The girls' father was murdered this morning. Their mother's serving a tour in Iraq. Because their uncle lives in New York, we agreed to take them into our care and talk to them when he got here."
"I guess they knew something the bad guys didn't want us to find out," said McGee, glancing at Ziva.
"Really, Agent McGee," said Bashan sarcastically. "I wonder how you came to that conclusion."
Tim looked embarrassed, and went to sit by Ziva. Ziva looked up at him, and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Timothy was only summarizing what we know," said Ziva. "There's no need to insult my friends from NCIS." When she said the last part, however, her eyes locked onto Tony who had suddenly found the wood paneling to be of supreme interest.
"Forgive me, Ziva," said Bashan, bowing slightly. "I would ask your forgiveness as well, Agent McGee. I tend to get a little protective of Ziva. As I said earlier, she's like a daughter to me. I don't like to see her get hurt."
Gibbs answered for McGee. "It's understandable," he said. "If Ziva were hurt on a Mossad mission, I can guarantee you'd be receiving the same treatment."
"In that case," said Bashan. "I have a few more questions for you, Agent Gibbs."
"Fire away," said Gibbs, looking stoically at Officer Bashan.
Bashan smirked a bit. He liked this Agent Gibbs. "Didn't you consider the possibility that these girls might be involved someway, and that escorting them to NCIS might be hazardous?"
"I did," said Gibbs. "That is why I instructed Officer David to call Agent DiNozzo for back up."
Bashan whirled on Tony. "Then why didn't you back her up, Agent DiNozzo?" he asked threatening. "Did you have a prior engagement more important than protecting the life of your partner?"
"It was my fault, Michael," said Ziva abruptly from her spot on the couch. "I figured I could get the girls back faster if I didn't wait for Tony. I didn't consider the risks."
Tony's mouth hung open. He certainly hadn't expected Ziva to lie to Mossad for him. If he had been in her shoes, the entire agencies would have known what happened. "Officer Bashan..."
Before he could set the record strait, Gibbs stepped in. "If that's all, Officer Bashan, my team would like some time alone with Ziva to discuss the case." When Bashan began to protest, Gibbs narrowed his famous stare on him. "It's NCIS procedure, Officer. I don't want a case going to mistrial because we leaked too much information to a foreign operative."
Though he was decidedly unhappy, Bashan decided against discussing the issue further. "Very well," he said. "I will leave you four to your work. But," he said, raising a finger in warning. "I don't want to hear from the doctor that Ziva's become over stressed or over worked because of this, Gibbs."
"We'll take excellent care of her, Officer Bashan," said Gibbs, giving the other man a hearty pat on the shoulder.
Once Bashan left the room, the three guys turned on Ziva.
"Why did you tell him you didn't call me?" asked Tony his face completely lacking comprehension. "Don't you want my head on a platter?"
Ziva gave Tony a sharp look. "Oh, I do," said Ziva harshly. "But I want to take them off myself. In my current condition, Officer Bashan would beat me to it if he knew that you left me out to hang."
"You mean either ‘hanging' or ‘out to dry', Ziva," said Tim habitually. When all three of his teammates turned to stare at him, McGee gulped nervously. "Not that that matters."
Rolling his eyes, Gibbs faced Ziva. "So," he said. "What happened?"
"We were tailed," said Ziva simply. "I thought I lost him. He caught up when we parked to call for a pizza. I tried to lose him again, and then he and his passengers opened fire." Ziva sighed heavily. "It was then that a local black and white police car joined in the chase; on their side."
"A cop?!" asked Tim with surprise. "You mean a dirty police officer actually wanted these girls dead enough to chase them down in his patrol car?"
"I'm afraid so, McGee," said Ziva. She winced as her wounds stretched in her attempt to sit up more.
"How do you know it wasn't a stunt car that someone bought or stole?" asked Tony, avoiding Ziva's gaze.
Ziva glared at Tony. "Because, Tony," said Ziva, "the 911 operator told us they had a car in the area that would help. The car that chased us was the only cop car that showed up."
"That just doesn't make any sense," said Tony. "He had to know that dispatch would know who he was."
Gibbs' libs pursed in a thin line. "Someone must really want these girls dead," he said, seriously.
"I doubt it was the cop, specifically," said Ziva slowly. "If he knew the girls previously, they would have recognized him at the front desk. My guess is he was in it for some kind of pay off."
"We didn't find any evidence that Mr. Katz was involved in any organized crime," said McGee skeptically.
Gibbs shook his head. "It can't be organized crime," he said confidently. "Not even the best criminal could cover his tracks well enough to be as clean as that guy." Gibbs looked Ziva in the eyes. "It's got to be personal."
McGee still looked doubtful. "But we didn't find any evidence of any personal grudges against him either."
"Well, it's one or the other, McGee, because it definitely wasn't a random crime if their after the girls now too," said Gibbs roughly.
Any further discussion was cut off by the reentrance of Officer Bashan.
"The girls' uncle is here," he said, showing another man into the room.
"Hi," said the man. "I'm Josh Baker. Thank you for taking care of the girls."
Gibbs approached the man and shook his hand. "You have Officer David over there to thank for that. If it weren't for her, the girls might have never made it this far."
"What?," asked Baker, shock on his face. He turned to Ziva. "What happened, Officer David?"
"We were pursued after we left the police station, and some shots were fired." Ziva smiled wryly. "As you can see by my appearance, some of those bullets made contact." When the uncle's face paled, Ziva was sure to amend. "But the girls weren't hit!"
Gibbs decided to continue, knowing that the morphine was probably hurting Ziva's distraught family member communication skills. "Ziva's quick thinking to get them to this embassy saved their lives."
Baker turned to Ziva, gratitude on his features. "Thank you, Officer David," he said. "I owe you a huge debt of gratitude."
Ziva smiled. "I was just doing my job, Mr. Baker."
"Yes, you were," said Baker. "But you did it in exemplary fashion. I will have to commend you to your director."
"Oh, that's not necessary," said Ziva, actually blushing at the complement.
Smiling at the praise of his officer, Bashan turned to his guest. "I'm sorry that you have to stay the night, Mr. Baker, but I'm sure you'll find our accommodations quite adequate," he said, grabbing the man's arm to lead him away.
"Staying?" asked Baker, suddenly. "I thought I was going to take the girls back to New York."
"That was the agreement, Mr. Baker," said Tony. "Remember, you and Agent McGee talked about it on the phone?" Tony stepped in front of the man. His body posture was defensive as he faced down Baker. Something was off.
"Oh," said Baker. "That's right. I guess I was just stressed." He looked around. "So, where are the girls?"
"They're in one of our guest rooms," said Officer Bashan. From his voice and body language, Tony could tell that Bashan was also now on edge. Looking around the room, the same could be said for all of the agents.
"Great," said Baker, either oblivious to or ignoring the rising tension. "Can you tell me how to get there?"
"Actually," said Ziva as she struggled to her feet. "I'm on my way to bed anyway. Would you like to come with me?" she asked, her tone allowing for no argument.
"Sure," said Baker in a tone that sounded almost like excitement. "That would be great."
"Fantastic," said Ziva, her lips turning into her exotic smile. "Tony," she said suddenly, turning to her partner. "Would you mind giving me a hand?"
Tony looked confused for a second being unused to a Ziva asking for help. After a moment, however, his eyes lit up in recognition. This was the only way to have two agents escort Baker without making him nervous. "Of course," he said, putting on his own charming and innocent looking smile.
McGee seemed to catch on too, and he quickly interjected. "Ziva, I don't know if that is wise. You know the wheels on that IV rack are broken."
"That's alright, Agent McGee," said Bashan as he moved to Ziva's IVs. "The doctors said that Ziva could take them out before she went to sleep for the night." As he removed the needles from Ziva's arm, he gave her a meaningful look as he silently mouthed that back up would be a corridor away. Straightening his posture, Officer Bashan spoke out loud. "Now please, Ziva," he said. "If anything feels wrong, call me or the medical wing. I don't want a repeat of Korea."
Ziva smiled, remembering the incident when she and Bashan went on a mission into North Korea when she first joined Mossad. She had been scratched by a fence they'd climbed over and ended up with blood poisoning. "Oh, Michael, you know that wasn't my fault. I was focused on getting our informant out."
"Yes," said Bashan, humorlessly. "But a high fever is generally something one notices." Smiling gently, he ran a hand through Ziva's hair. "You just take care of yourself. We have luxuries here that we didn't have there, and this whole ordeal will soon be over."
"Really?" asked Baker as Tony moved to help support Ziva. "You're close to solving the case?"
"Yes," said Gibbs. "We just got a lead that proves to be very promising."
Baker looked a little uncomfortable, but still managed to get out, "Fantastic."
As soon as the three left the room, Gibbs and Bashan sprung into action.
"Can we access the security feed from this television?" asked Gibbs, walking up to the big screen on the west wall of the room.
"Of course," said Bashan, going over to a computer in the corner, and typing furiously. "We need to be able to track everyone from everywhere."
"Great," said Gibbs. "Pull up the hallway outside."
Bashan looked up from his typing. "I'm already doing it, Agent Gibbs," he said somewhat testily.
"Good," said Gibbs as the image flicked on the screen.
McGee walked up to Gibbs. "Boss?" he asked, drawing Gibbs' attention.
"What, Elf Lord?" asked Gibbs curtly, not removing his eyes from the screen.
"Why did you let that guy go with Ziva? He seemed pretty shady and Ziva's not in her best shape," he said, looking nervously at the monitor as Tony, Ziva, and Baker slowly walked out of frame to accommodate Ziva's hobbling.
"Because, McGee," said Gibbs as he drew his sidearm. "She's the only one who had an excuse to bring backup."
Comprehension dawned on McGee's face, but he still looked doubtful. "But should Ziva be doing this? I mean, she just got shot."
Bashan spoke up. "I assure you, Agent McGee," he said, his own sidearm in hand. "Officer David has fought in much worse condition than this and come out fine. Plus, we have ten Mossad Officers within shouting distance of her location and a fully equipped medical wing in the building."
"Oh," said Tim sheepishly.
"Come on," said Gibbs who was already on his way out of the door. "They're far enough away to follow without tipping off Baker."
"Right, Boss," said Tim, following close behind with Bashan bringing up the rear.
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Though she would never say it, Ziva was grateful for more than the back up that Tony offered as he supported her on their way to the girls' room. Ziva had figured out which room it would be the moment Bashan mentioned it to the girls. It was a special room designed for guests who had legitimate security threats against them and needed extra protection. Just a hallway away was a team of well trained Mossad operatives who could show up in under fifteen seconds.
"So, Officer David," said Baker as he walked causally in Ziva's blind spot. "I thought NCIS agents were referred to as ‘special agents', not officers."
"Yes, they are," said Ziva a little breathlessly. "But I'm actually a Mossad Liaison attached to an NCIS team."
Baker was about to respond when they came to the door.
Ziva let go of Tony and knocked on the beautiful oak door. "Simone?" she called. "Could you come out here?"
"Sure, Ziva!" They heard Simone's voice from behind the door. A moment later, the door opened. "What's up?" asked the teenager with a smile. The smile turned to a look of horror when she saw the man behind Tony and Ziva. "Dad?"
Without waiting a beat, both Tony and Ziva turned around, weapons drawn.
The moment the guns were pointed at him, Baker knew he didn't have much time. Thinking quickly, he ran into Ziva, smashing her against the wall. He then drew a plastic bag from his trouser pocket and pulled it over Simone's head.
Just when the girl started to thrash, however, a gunshot rang out and Baker collapsed with a bullet from Tony's Sig in his knee. The assailant clutched his bloody leg as Ziva ripped the bag from Simone's head. She hurriedly pushed the girl behind her right as Baker tackled her again.
Tony aimed his gun at the couple, but was unable to fire for fear of hitting Ziva. He heard the shouts and footsteps from both Gibbs and the Mossad Officers, and he hoped Baker heard it too so he would back off and surrender.
The man never had the option, however, when Ziva's knife found its way into Baker's heart.
"See, McGee," said Gibbs as he and McGee ran up to find their presence unneeded. "She can take care of herself."
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Fortunately, Ziva had miraculously not torn any of her stitches during the altercation. Unfortunately for Officer Bashan, however, the medical staff were less than pleased to find out that he had lied about Ziva being permitted to take out her transfusion and IVs.
So, here she was, hooked up once again, and listening to a shaky Simone tell her story.
"I lied earlier, Ziva," she said, looking sadly at the older woman. "My father isn't dead." She then corrected herself. "Or, at least he wasn't before today."
"Ya think?" said Gibbs from his spot against the wall.
Simone looked quickly at him before turning her eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry," she said. She briefly glanced up at Ziva before fastening her eyes to the ground again. "But I didn't have a choice. I can't tell anyone about what happened unless my mom okays it."
"What did happen?" asked Ziva gently, reaching from her prone position to put a hand on Simone's shoulder. Simone looked up at Ziva from her position on the chair next to the officer and accepted the comfort.
Taking a deep breath, Simone spoke. "My father was a horrible man," the teen's voice trembled a bit as she told her story. "He drank and abused my mother. She stayed with him because she thought she could fix him. Because he never put a hand on me, she thought it was actually possible." Simone steeled herself before speaking again. "That all changed when I was nine. Me a group of kids from my school broke into this old foreclosed mental hospital and were caught by the police. They let us off with a warning, but when Josh was done talking with the cops..." Simone stopped to brush a tear from her eye. "My mother packed me and a three-month-old Rosie into her car and we disappeared."
"When did your mother meet your stepfather?" asked McGee as he took notes. No one dared to mention her first name reference to her father.
Simone sighed. "She met him a year later." Suddenly, Simone's shoulders began to shake as silent sobs wracked her body. "He killed him," she whimpered. "Somehow, that bastard, Josh, found out about Dad and decided to take away the only thing that saved my mother from her desperation after what he did to us."
Ziva scooted over and wrapped Simone in a hug. "Shhh, it's alright," she murmured into the girl's hair. "It's over. You and Rosie are safe now." Pulling back, Ziva smiled as she wiped a tear out of Simone's eye. "Why don't you go check on Rosie? I'm sure she'd rather have you there than all those mean looking Mossad guys."
"Okay," whispered Simone. She stood and crouched to give Ziva another hug. "Thank you so much, Ziva."
"You're so welcome," said Ziva, brushing a strand of hair out of Simone's face. "Now go take care of your sister."
After Simone left the room, McGee sighed and went to take her place in the chair. "The father must have figured that the girls would eventually give him up as a suspect. He must have had the means to hire a hit, and did it."
"He better have," said Tony. "He had at least three guys after those girls."
"That reminds me," said Gibbs as he pulled out his cell. "I better make sure this gets released quickly. I don't want those guys to try and complete the job."
"Yeah," said Tony. "I'm sure they'll lay off once they find out they won't be getting that pay day they were after."
"Ya think, DiNozzo?" said Gibbs. He gave Tony the stare as he started talking to someone on the phone, probably a female news anchor who'd hit on him at a crime scene.
"So, Tony," said Ziva. "What should I do next time I need you to back me up?" When Tony gave her an odd look, she continued. "Since calling multiple times obviously doesn't work?"
Tony shrugged, trying not to let the guilt rise again. Jenny had called him earlier and had explained in intricate fashion why, even though Ziva was left without back up, he had done the right thing. She had said that Ziva would have done the same. The callous words had caused anger to surge through Tony. With time, however, Tony realized that Jenny was probably right. He was playing a whole new game now, and he could either deal with it, or quit.
"Call Gibbs," he said, leaving the room.
The End.
Few, that was an interesting write. Read and Review!
Peace,
Hobbit Killer
Story Notes:
could be considered Tiva, but is not meant to be.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A filler fic with a little action for season four. What if Ziva actually needed Tony when he ignored her phone calls?
Chapter End Notes:
could be considered Tiva, but is not meant to be.