. . . . .
After the most miserable shower of my life I found myself walking down the stairs to my living room, as I reach for my suit jacket on the armchair I notice that our team is now one short.
"She said she needed some air, boss!"
Tony looked his normal uncomfortable self; When he delivers news to me, his body braces up as if waiting for a slap that may or may not come. In this moment I decide to give his brain a break from potential concussion.
"Grab your gear!"
I hear the normal scuffle of feet as the remainder of the team fall in line behind me as I walk out of the house towards the car.
Tim passes me the keys to the car, as I opened the door I notice there is a fresh coffee already in the cup holder.
- I have trained them well!
I look at Ziva, under the pretense of buckling up my seat belt, she's looking out of the window as if lost in thought, the only giveaway to this potentially relaxed pose was her fists, balled up as tight as a coiled springs.
Tony and Timothy got in the car, after I take a sip of this warm yet still drinkable coffee I am ready to begin what was potentially going to be a very long night.
"So, what brings you lot out, dragging me out of my basement in the middle of the night?"
"Er. . ." Well, Ziva got a call from one of her informants, a potential lead on that fight club we've been searching for, boss."
Tim looked uncomfortable, it was as if he thought I may not think it wasn't worth leaving my house in the middle of the night.
"Well you know what that means don't you? Ziva you've got point! Rule 38 - your case, your lead!"
At this declaration Ziva looked away from her window and straight at me in surprise, her recent body posture a distant memory. I nodded in confirmation and assurance that I meant what I said.
- This case is just what she needs . . .what I need! Keep Ziva in a professional role, no blurred lines.
"Normally I'm adverse to women taking charge boss, but if we are talking about Ziva, she can lead me any. . ." OWWW!"
I would like to say it was me who slapped Tony round the head for his inappropriate comment but I was beat to the post by Ziva! It was my turn to look at her in surprise.
"My lead, my slap . . .right Gibbs?"
"That's my girl!"
I chuckled and started the car, as I looked in the rear view mirror, I saw a slight flush to Ziva's cheeks that were not there a moment ago.
- Am I imagining things or did I just make Ziva blush?
. . . . .
The night went well, my informant was good to his word and we managed to severe one of the major heads of this ongoing fight club circuit. Despite this success I found myself unable to let go of this frustration building up inside of me. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Gibbs standing in front of me, my hands on his chest, everything I tasted or smelt had the edge of old spice and sawdust to it.
- That's it!
If I couldn't take my frustration out on the man that I wanted then there was only one thing for it. . ." the punch bag! I grabbed my bag from under my desk and headed towards the locker room. With my training gear on, my hair tied back and my hands strapped up, I was ready to take on the gym.
"Don't go easy on me now"
I smiled at my usual greeting to my leather opponent. I walked towards the punch bag, guard up, chin down and was prepared for battle that nobody would win.
- Kick. Left. Right. Left. Right. Duck. Move. Left. Right. Duck. Right. Left. Move. Kick
The only thoughts going through my mind, were made up of one syllable. Simple commands that my body was only happy to obey. I could feel the sweat trickling down my body, my breath coming faster, the only signs that would prove that I am human, not a fighting machine.
"I think you should find a stronger opponent!"
I turned towards the voice of the intruder who interrupted my routine, by doing so I was taken off guard by the swinging punch bag.
"Maybe I was wrong!"
The voice chuckled above me as I landed on the mat, momentarily taken aback by the impact of the bag. A pair of legs covered in grey sweatpants came in to view, I raised my gaze to take in the rest of the intruder and found a matching NCIS hoodie and a pair of blue eyes dancing in humor at the site at his feet.
"Gibbs! I thought you all went home!"
"You thought wrong. Here take my hand. . .""
"Erm thanks. . .if it weren't for you I wouldn't need it!"
"Maybe so - but I felt obliged to look after the little guy who was getting pounded on by a ninja assassin!"
I smiled as I took his hand, with a strength I never knew he had, Gibbs jerked me on to my feet in one fluid movement. I had to take a moment to get my equilibrium back. I reluctantly dropped his hand, trying to retain the composure I had gained over the previous 45 minute session. I felt I had more control over my emotions and could comfortably remain in his presence regardless of the day's events.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No . . . Wanna talk about why you're in here?"
We both smiled. Despite my curiosity about Gibb's reasons for hitting the punch bag, I knew all too well that talking just doesn't quite cut it.
"Well it looks like my time with the punch bag is out of the question!"
I followed Gibb's gaze and looked at the leather bag, it was dented and split, the sand slowly pouring on to the mat below it. I flushed with both pride and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. . ."
"Never say you're sorry. . ."
"It's a sign of weakness, I know . . .Rule number 6!"
"Well, well, well! You do listen to me Ziva."
- More than you'll know!
I shrugged my shoulders up at him and he smiled down at me.
"Think you can take on a marine, Ziva?"
"Think you can take on a woman, Gibbs?"
At this comment Gibbs threw me his trade mark smile and my heart melted.
"Oh Ziver. . . You are so much more than a woman!"
That unexpected comment mentally took me down just like that punch bag did moments before.
- What does that mean? Surely he doesn't. . ."
"Challenge accepted! Marine Vs Ninja assassin!"
My thoughts were interrupted by a rash attempt of a wrestling stage call, it felt to me that Gibbs wanted to say as many thing as possible so I would forget his previous comment. Not once did the term woman come up again.
- Maybe I was imagining things, the mind does play tricks after all! Wishful thinking perhaps...
. . . . .
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and Ziva, 'Zibbs', their journey together has seen mistrust, faith, loyalty, forgiveness and baseball, but what happens if both of them do not want their relationship to be labelled and Father/Daughter, what if they both want something more? Be aware that this story contains suggestive language and adult themes which are not suitable for younger readers. PLEASE REVIEW.