Categories > TV > NCIS > All I Wanna Do . . .
The rain pounded against the windows of NCIS headquarters in the Navy Yard. Team Gibbs had just closed a case, and the agents were just hanging out. Well, Tony and Ziva were. McGee had left a few minutes before with Abby, probably to go bowling with the nuns, and Gibbs was reclining in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, cup of coffee in hand, taking sips at regular intervals. DiNozzo and David were looking at something on Tony's computer, Ziva's head dangerously close to his. The Bossman sent them a warning look, but if either of them noticed, they gave no sign. Besides, Ziva was already seeing someone: Michael Rivkin. Gibbs knew Tony was jealous, even if the senior field agent didn't realize it himself. He'd made Rule Twelve for a reason, but honestly, it was about time that they broke it. There was the constant sexual tension between them, and of course one would display jealousy—or signs of it—when the other was seeing someone. Leroy Jethro Gibbs thought he'd never see the day when he was wishing for one of his rules to be broken, most of all numero doce. (Even if he himself did break a few rules on occasion.) Finally Ziva extracted herself from Tony's office space and grabbed her jacket, which was laid across the back of her chair. She called, "See you tomorrow morning," as she walked to the elevator.
Gibbs grunted and Tony, who was done messing around on the Internet, had to hurry to catch her before the doors closed.
Ziva tried so hard to ignore the underlying current running between them. She wouldn't—couldn't—cheat on Michael. Relief flooded her when they walked out to the lot and each headed toward their separate car. At least she wouldn't see him till morning, Ziva thought as she slid inside her red vehicle and turned the key in the ignition. Her car came to life and, windshield wipers on to deflect the oncoming rain, the Mossad liaison pulled out of the parking lot and started for home. Without her knowing, Tony had a few seconds head start and was already out of the Navy Yard.
She switched on the radio for company, changing stations until she heard a song that caught her interest and made her listen intently. The artist was singing about a one-night stand with a stranger she'd picked up by the road on a rainy night much like this one, only to reveal later that her intention was to have a child because the man she loved hadn't been able to give her any. Of course, Ziva wouldn't dream of doing anything like that, but she was beginning to see why a woman would do something so desperate.
When that song was over, Aerosmith's "Janie's Got a Gun" began to play. Ziva smirked; somehow, this sounded like something the former Director, Jenny Shepard, would do.
Suddenly her headlights lit up a lone figure—a very familiar figure. Already he was soaked through to the skin with rain. Mentally kicking herself for what she was about to do, Ziva slowed down and pulled over, rolling town the passenger side window.
"Hey, Ziva. My car broke down. Thanks for stopping."
She sighed. "Tony, do you want a ride?"
Gibbs grunted and Tony, who was done messing around on the Internet, had to hurry to catch her before the doors closed.
Ziva tried so hard to ignore the underlying current running between them. She wouldn't—couldn't—cheat on Michael. Relief flooded her when they walked out to the lot and each headed toward their separate car. At least she wouldn't see him till morning, Ziva thought as she slid inside her red vehicle and turned the key in the ignition. Her car came to life and, windshield wipers on to deflect the oncoming rain, the Mossad liaison pulled out of the parking lot and started for home. Without her knowing, Tony had a few seconds head start and was already out of the Navy Yard.
She switched on the radio for company, changing stations until she heard a song that caught her interest and made her listen intently. The artist was singing about a one-night stand with a stranger she'd picked up by the road on a rainy night much like this one, only to reveal later that her intention was to have a child because the man she loved hadn't been able to give her any. Of course, Ziva wouldn't dream of doing anything like that, but she was beginning to see why a woman would do something so desperate.
When that song was over, Aerosmith's "Janie's Got a Gun" began to play. Ziva smirked; somehow, this sounded like something the former Director, Jenny Shepard, would do.
Suddenly her headlights lit up a lone figure—a very familiar figure. Already he was soaked through to the skin with rain. Mentally kicking herself for what she was about to do, Ziva slowed down and pulled over, rolling town the passenger side window.
"Hey, Ziva. My car broke down. Thanks for stopping."
She sighed. "Tony, do you want a ride?"
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