“Where’s your gun?” Tony asked as soon as he opened the door on Ziva, eyes sweeping down her body appreciatively. She flipped him off.
“That’s for me to know.”
“And me to find out?” he asked promptly.
“I thought you had a date, Tony.”
“I do. Anna. She’s fixing her hair. We got bored waiting for you guys, had to entertain ourselves. Abs in the car?”
“Your mental age really is that of a teenager, isn’t it?”
“Why were you looking at my personnel file?”
“Just getting to know my coworkers. Really, though, yours was no real surprise.”
The click of kitten heels on tile interrupted the conversation, and a tall, leggy blonde draped herself over Tony. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Tony smirked. “Anna? This is Ziva, my partner"work partner. Ziva, Anna.”
“A pleasure,” Ziva deadpanned, and did not hold out her hand. Anna didn’t seem to notice. “Shall we go?”
On their way down the stairs Tony leaned over to mutter in Ziva’s ear. “You brought your car, didn’t you?”
She shook her head.
“Damn it.”
“Not sure Anna can handle the Hearse?” she queried mockingly.
“It’s always a little awkward.”
Anna’s reaction to the car was about what Tony had warned of. She drew back when he opened the back door for her, looking as if he were offering a dead cat. “We’re riding in… This is a Hearse, Tony! I thought you said we were just going to a birthday party.”
“It’s my friend’s. She’s a little eccentric, that’s all. Nothing to be worried about. There were never any actual dead bodies in it.” Ziva’s eyebrows shot up. Tony glared at her. Grinning, she slipped into the passenger seat. Abby was watching the mini-drama happening outside the car with a wicked grin and a sparkle in her eyes.
“It always gets the new ones.”
“You enjoy their suffering.”
The older woman nodded happily. “Absolutely. Tony looks hot tonight, doesn’t he?”
Ziva blinked. “I suppose.”
The second couple finally got into the back, and Tony leaned forward. “Abby? This is Anna. Anna, my best friend, Abby.”
“Your car…” Anna began.
“Isn’t it awesome?” Abby cut in, perky oblivious mode turned to its highest.
“Uh…”
“I got it like six years ago from a funeral home down in Pittsburg. The director is my cousin’s husband’s uncle, and he let me have it for five hundred dollars because they were getting a whole new set. I did the restoration myself. It doesn’t always run well, but don’t worry, if we get stranded we can always take the bus.”
“…I’ve never been on a bus before,” Anna’s voice was very high. “So they… the funeral home used this car? For bodies?”
“Sure,” Abby agreed. “It’s kind of nice, knowing that there’s all those spirits that left their impression on the car. It’s like I’m never alone, you know?”
Ziva stared at her. Anna breathed out a little non-committal sound and Ziva saw her clasp Tony’s hand out of the corner of her eye. Abby glanced over at Ziva. Ziva’s eyebrows crept up her forehead. Abby smiled guilelessly.
“So!” Tony cleared his throat. “Anyone else see the game last night?”
Silence was his only response. He fell back, shrugging. “Huh. Me neither. I was busy with much more important things.”
Anna giggled like a thirteen-year-old girl. Ziva clenched her fists.
“Oh? Tony, I thought you said your date was with a brunette?” Abby asked, still innocent and as sweet as poisoned pie.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Abby,” Tony replied evenly. Abby shrugged, and reached forward to the radio, filling the car with loud rock music. The rest of the drive lacked conversation. The club where the birthday was being held was not what Ziva had been expecting. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and the windows were grimy and covered in old advertisements. The inside, however, was warm and relatively clean, Smokey jazz playing just loud enough that it couldn’t be considered background music. Abby half danced, half ran to the far corner, throwing her arms around the young man in the centre of a crowd of people. Tony snorted. “She hasn’t seen him in three months. I bet she doesn’t even know his last name.”
“Are you sure?” Anna asked. “She seems pretty friendly with him.”
Tony shook his head. “She’s like that with anyone she likes. She’ll bestow affection on anyone she thinks will accept it, it doesn’t mean she wants to be their best friend.”
Ziva didn’t outwardly flinch, but his words cut with a dangerous precision into the fragile bubble of hope that the last week with Abby had formed. She trailed after Tony and Anna as they took the same path that Abby had taken (though at a more reasonable pace) to greet the red haired young man and wish him happy birthday. Abby was already distracted by a pair of men, one in expensive looking dress pants and a silk shirt, the other in jeans and cotton and covered in tattoos. They were signing rapidly, Abby bouncing as her hands moved. Ziva smiled as Tony introduced her, then excused herself to go get a drink.
“You look like you just lost your best friend,” the bartender observed, sliding the glass across the scarred wood toward her.
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He moved off to serve another person, and Ziva lifted the glass, amber liquid catching the light and reflecting it back at her. A pair of hands landed on her shoulders, and she went rigid, dropping the glass to the bar top, its contents sloshing over the sides.
“Hey, hey. Just me.” Abby spoke as if soothing a frightened animal but Ziva could detect the hint of amusement lacing the words. She remained tense, only turning her head to meet the other woman’s gaze.
“What is it?”
Abby’s hands slid down her arms, coming to rest atop her own on the wood in front of them. “You looked dejected.”
Ziva frowned. The fact that first the bartender, then Abby had noticed her state was not one that made her feel particularly confident in her own ability to maintain a mask. She didn’t mention this, instead choosing to get a different answer. “I thought you were busy with your friends?”
Abby’s hands tightened on hers, pressing them into the bar. “Z, what’s up?”
“Nothing. I am fine. Are you going to get a drink?”
Abby withdrew, moving to stand beside Ziva. “Yeah.”
Once her order was filled, the two made their way back to the larger group where Tony had everyone enthralled with the story of one of their recent cases. Abby rolled her eyes, but joined in, embellishing where Tony left things out and correcting his weak attempts to skim over the scientific aspects. Ziva melted into the back of her chair.
The music was warm and inviting, coaxing and playful, and when a man with soft eyes and a voice like melted chocolate asked her, shyly, to dance, she was all too happy to leave Abby’s torturous presence and be swept up in the atmosphere of the club. His name, she discovered while they danced, was Jacob. He taught philosophy at a college on the outskirts of the city, and played piano. He was trained in marshal arts, and spent every Saturday morning with his niece at the shooting range.
“You’re a man of many talents, yes?” she murmured, offering a genuine smile. He returned it, dipping her to the music.
“I just do what I love. I suppose it just happens that I love a variety of things. But I’m also not one who loves easily. I guess that’s why I haven’t found someone to share my life with yet.”
“I can understand that. You are waiting for the right woman.”
He nodded. “Exactly. And I think, when she comes along, I’ll know. I’m happy with my family and my friends, I don’t need to push for anything else until I feel like it can be reciprocated. I feel sorry for the people who are so terrified that they have no one it turns them into someone who will do whatever they can to feel as if someone cares for them.”
“Don’t you think they should know that to love someone makes them weaker? If that love is spread so thinly, they certainly aren’t capable of true, meaningful love.”
He shook his head. “They’re so scared of waking up one day alone, that they try to give themselves fully to as many people as they can, looking for reassurance and security. My mother was like that, before she met my step-father. She had endless parades of men, a new one every week. But my step-dad was different. He didn’t push her away when he saw her interactions with other people, he just made it a point to always be there for her when she needed a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on, or when she was happy and wanted someone to share the joy with. And after a while, she didn’t need to worry so much about rejection. My mom still had a lot of friends, that was just the kind of person she was. But she was a lot happier… and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I’m sorry, you must think I’m a total moron.”
Ziva leaned up, kissing his cheek. “Not at all. I think you’re a very fascinating man.”
He smiled. “And you’re a very mysterious woman. I’m about to be very cheesy, I should warn you. Can I buy you a drink?”
Before Ziva could answer she felt a light tug on her arm. “Hey,” Abby said, smiling falsely at Jacob. “Mind if I steal her?”
Ziva stared at Abby, surprised and a little angry. Yet she didn’t make a move to stop her as she pulled her arm from around his shoulder and intertwined their fingers. Jacob’s smile became sad, but he squeezed the hand that he held before releasing her. “Only if you promise to take good care of her,” he replied to Abby, his tone light and teasing.
She shrugged. “I try.”
Ziva watched Jacob go, wanting very much to catch him and kiss the sadness from his face. Abby’s hand in hers was cool and soft, her nails resting against the skin of the back of Ziva’s hand.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” Abby said, tilting her head. Ziva could tell that the words, while offered in an apologetic tone, held no sincerity behind them.
“It’s fine.”
“Good. I… I think we need to talk. Like, in private. Like, outside or something. If that’s okay? Because I thought we were, you know, doing the whole friend thing now, and then all of a sudden you’re practically ignoring me and then you go off with some guy, and I’m a little confused.”
Ziva felt the urge to demand of Abby if they were really friends at all. Another conflicting part of her wanted to demand if they were more than friends. “Friends?” she asked, leaving it open for interpretation.
Abby’s breath hitched, her hand tugging on Ziva’s to draw her closer. “Fuck. I think I’m gonna kiss you now, if you have no objections.”
Ziva’s eyes widened. How had they gone from preparing to have a conversation to Abby being ready to kiss her in the middle of the dance floor? Tony’s words replayed in her head, and she took a step away. Abby’s face went even paler. Ziva held up a hand to forestall the babbled apologies that were sure to spill forth at any second.
“Abby, I’m not saying no, but I need to know that this is real for you. I’m not willing to enter into some sort of… what do Americans call it, friends with benefits?”
Abby’s eyes closed for a brief moment. “If you think that’s all we could be, then you haven’t lived the same week that I have. Z, I’m not going to lie to you. I suck at relationships. But hey, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. And I’d like to try with you.”
Ziva smiled. “I"“ Her cell rang, shrill and harsh against the music and voices around them. She pulled it out, glancing down at the caller ID. Abby peaked over her shoulder.
“Jesus Christ.”
Ziva made a shushing motion, flipping the phone open. “Hi, Jenny. It’s a really bad time.”
“Yes, it is,” the Director replied. Ziva noted the stress in the other woman’s voice.
“What’s happened?”
“We’ve identified the scientist responsible for the overdose. He was one of the ones at the meeting this morning. The FBI has sent a team after him, but so far there’s been no luck. We don’t know what his next move will be, but every one who was there this morning may be at risk. You shouldn’t go home tonight. Stay in a hotel, maybe. Or come here, to headquarters.”
Ziva met Abby’s eyes. “I’ve got a place to stay already. I won’t be going home.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “I see. Stay safe, Officer David.”
“You too,” Ziva murmured, but Jen had already hung up.
Abby frowned. “I think you need to explain to me what exactly is going on.”
“I"“
“The Director didn’t want you staying at home tonight, am I right?”
“She’s simply being paranoid. The chances that I will be his target are minimal.”
“Whoa, whoa. Whose target are you?” Tony appeared beside Abby, his cheerful smile turning to a look of concern, a bit of the professional lead agent slipping into his stance and tone. “Ziva? What’s going on.”
“She was just about to share what the Director’s been keeping secret from us,” Abby replied.
Ziva swore under her breath. She would have to think up something to keep them both satisfied, while not revealing the truth. It was not something she wished to do, but even she didn’t believe that she could escape the FBI’s wrath unscathed. “Can we do this somewhere a little more private?”
Tony nodded, and Abby rested a hand on the small of her back, as if the physical connection would keep her anchored and unable to flee from them. By the time they were sitting in Abby’s car she still hadn’t come up with anything.
Author's Chapter Notes:
In which the plot actually goes somewhere