Categories > TV > NCIS > All I Wanna Do . . .
The female Mossad liaison officer tensed. "I was out," she muttered, suddenly fascinated by the pattern in the glass tabletop.
"Not with anyone else, I hope." Was that a possessive tone in his voice?
"No," Ziva lied, fighting a sudden wave of guilt.
"Good." His fingers retreated, leaving her skin feeling cold and clammy. Nervously, Ziva rubbed the palms of her hands against her jeans. She didn't know why she felt so skittish—unless she was afraid Michael would deliberately hurt either her or Tony. But that was crazy; Michael was the man she loved . . . right?
"Ziva, what's wrong?"
When she still didn't look at him, he gently lifted her head so they were eye-to-eye. "Tell me." His voice, though soft, had a commanding tone.
Yeah, right. "I wasn't with you last night because my partner and I were gettin' hot and heavy." He'd never want me near him. No way, José. And I'm not telling him that I might be carrying another man's child. Not that she knew for certain, of course.
Instead of answering, Ziva jerked her head away from Rivkin's touch and rose, the chair's legs scraping against the patio. "I'll see you later, Michael." She walked towards her car without looking back. Ziva was so lost in thought she didn't notice Tony leaning on a stop sign post nearby.
...
The senior field agent watched from a distance as Ziva stood from where she'd been talking with her Mossad boyfriend—just thinking about it made him grit his teeth—and walk back to her car. As she drove out of sight, Tony shoved off the post and took the seat she had formerly occupied. "I thought I told you to stay away from Ziva," he said coldly.
Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin sent him an irritated look. "She doesn't need you looking out for her. Ziva can take care of herself."
"I know that."
"So why do you insist on protecting her?"
"Because I don't want to see her hurt. Her father, her half brother . . . they all betrayed her."
"I would never hurt Ziva."
"You keep telling yourself that," Tony said, his voice cool as he rose from the seat. "Nice talking to you." Not. Never was. "And here's a piece of advice: Leave while you can."
He walked away before Rivkin could retaliate, hoping to catch Ziva and bring her back to the Navy Yard. Starting the Charger, he started driving in the same direction he'd last seen her go in.
...
Ziva sat on a bench in a nearby park, grateful there was hardly anyone there. She put her head to her hands, trying to sort out her conflicting emotions. Tony is my partner. I care about him, but Michael was sent by my father . . . I mean, Tony's just a friend, right? Yet she knew that though their relationship had many levels, they had never been lovers until last night. She sighed, wondering if she would ever figure out their relationship.
The Mossad liaison officer was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the person standing in front of her until he cleared his throat. As a reflex, her head jerked up and she lashed out with a well-aimed fist.
He blocked the blow and said, "Ziva, relax! It's just me."
"Tony, what part of 'don't try to find me' don't you get?"
"Gibbs sent me after you."
"And you wanted to look for me anyway."
"Well, yes," he admitted. "Ziva, come back with me. Please." His green-gray eyes held hers, pleading silently with her.
At last, she relented. "All right."
...
Four weeks later since that fateful night, Ziva stood in her bathroom looking down at the test in her hands, which read positive. Her hands started shaking. The test slipped from her quivering phalanges and actually landed with precise precision in the little trash can.
She leaned forward, her hands resting on the counter. NO! I didn't want this! Slowly she lifted her head and looked at her reflection. God forgive me. . . . And yet, she knew she was going to keep it.
After going for her run and eating breakfast, she headed to the office, hoping no other members of the team were there.
As luck would have it, she was the only one there. Going over to her desk, she took a blank sheet of paper and a pen and scribbled a note. Satisfied with what she'd written, she set it on Tony's desk and then left. Ziva didn't like it, but it had to be done.
...
The first thing Tony saw when he stepped out of the elevator at 0700 was McGee and Gibbs at their desks and no Ziva anywhere in sight. "Boss, have you seen Ziva?"
The former Marine shook his head.
"McGee?"
"No. I even tried her cell a few times, but she's not answering. Sorry, Tony."
"Why are you apologizing, Timmy?" chirped Abby from where she'd just materialized next to the probie. Then she noticed a vital team member was missing. "Where's our resident assassin?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Tony said as he sat down at his desk. It was then that he noticed the note. Reading it over silently, he commented, "Well, this explains a lot."
"What does?" Abby questioned, abandoning her spot at Tim's desk so she could read the note over his shoulder. "Aww, how romantic!"
DiNozzo silenced her with a shrewd look.
Too late. Elf Lord and the Bossman had heard her and were on their way over.
McGee sped-read it, then covered his eyes. "Dude, I so didn't need to know that!"
Abby grinned. "So I was right!"
"Shut up!" Tony hissed, hastily folding the paper so Gibbs couldn't see what Ziva had written.
"Is something going on here that I need to know about?" said the team leader.
"No," DiNozzo said quickly, hoping the others would follow his lead. Neither Abby nor Tim contradicted him.
Gibbs returned to his desk.
The forensic scientist said, "Let me read it again!"
In response, Tony tossed it. It didn't matter, since he'd already memorized it. It read:
Tony,
I am the flower, you are the seed. We walked in the garden, we planted a tree. Don't try to find me—please don't you dare. Just live in my memory. You'll always be there.
Love,
Ziva
And all because of one reckless night of love. The only thought going through his head was, Ziva, I'm so sorry.
"Not with anyone else, I hope." Was that a possessive tone in his voice?
"No," Ziva lied, fighting a sudden wave of guilt.
"Good." His fingers retreated, leaving her skin feeling cold and clammy. Nervously, Ziva rubbed the palms of her hands against her jeans. She didn't know why she felt so skittish—unless she was afraid Michael would deliberately hurt either her or Tony. But that was crazy; Michael was the man she loved . . . right?
"Ziva, what's wrong?"
When she still didn't look at him, he gently lifted her head so they were eye-to-eye. "Tell me." His voice, though soft, had a commanding tone.
Yeah, right. "I wasn't with you last night because my partner and I were gettin' hot and heavy." He'd never want me near him. No way, José. And I'm not telling him that I might be carrying another man's child. Not that she knew for certain, of course.
Instead of answering, Ziva jerked her head away from Rivkin's touch and rose, the chair's legs scraping against the patio. "I'll see you later, Michael." She walked towards her car without looking back. Ziva was so lost in thought she didn't notice Tony leaning on a stop sign post nearby.
...
The senior field agent watched from a distance as Ziva stood from where she'd been talking with her Mossad boyfriend—just thinking about it made him grit his teeth—and walk back to her car. As she drove out of sight, Tony shoved off the post and took the seat she had formerly occupied. "I thought I told you to stay away from Ziva," he said coldly.
Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin sent him an irritated look. "She doesn't need you looking out for her. Ziva can take care of herself."
"I know that."
"So why do you insist on protecting her?"
"Because I don't want to see her hurt. Her father, her half brother . . . they all betrayed her."
"I would never hurt Ziva."
"You keep telling yourself that," Tony said, his voice cool as he rose from the seat. "Nice talking to you." Not. Never was. "And here's a piece of advice: Leave while you can."
He walked away before Rivkin could retaliate, hoping to catch Ziva and bring her back to the Navy Yard. Starting the Charger, he started driving in the same direction he'd last seen her go in.
...
Ziva sat on a bench in a nearby park, grateful there was hardly anyone there. She put her head to her hands, trying to sort out her conflicting emotions. Tony is my partner. I care about him, but Michael was sent by my father . . . I mean, Tony's just a friend, right? Yet she knew that though their relationship had many levels, they had never been lovers until last night. She sighed, wondering if she would ever figure out their relationship.
The Mossad liaison officer was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the person standing in front of her until he cleared his throat. As a reflex, her head jerked up and she lashed out with a well-aimed fist.
He blocked the blow and said, "Ziva, relax! It's just me."
"Tony, what part of 'don't try to find me' don't you get?"
"Gibbs sent me after you."
"And you wanted to look for me anyway."
"Well, yes," he admitted. "Ziva, come back with me. Please." His green-gray eyes held hers, pleading silently with her.
At last, she relented. "All right."
...
Four weeks later since that fateful night, Ziva stood in her bathroom looking down at the test in her hands, which read positive. Her hands started shaking. The test slipped from her quivering phalanges and actually landed with precise precision in the little trash can.
She leaned forward, her hands resting on the counter. NO! I didn't want this! Slowly she lifted her head and looked at her reflection. God forgive me. . . . And yet, she knew she was going to keep it.
After going for her run and eating breakfast, she headed to the office, hoping no other members of the team were there.
As luck would have it, she was the only one there. Going over to her desk, she took a blank sheet of paper and a pen and scribbled a note. Satisfied with what she'd written, she set it on Tony's desk and then left. Ziva didn't like it, but it had to be done.
...
The first thing Tony saw when he stepped out of the elevator at 0700 was McGee and Gibbs at their desks and no Ziva anywhere in sight. "Boss, have you seen Ziva?"
The former Marine shook his head.
"McGee?"
"No. I even tried her cell a few times, but she's not answering. Sorry, Tony."
"Why are you apologizing, Timmy?" chirped Abby from where she'd just materialized next to the probie. Then she noticed a vital team member was missing. "Where's our resident assassin?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Tony said as he sat down at his desk. It was then that he noticed the note. Reading it over silently, he commented, "Well, this explains a lot."
"What does?" Abby questioned, abandoning her spot at Tim's desk so she could read the note over his shoulder. "Aww, how romantic!"
DiNozzo silenced her with a shrewd look.
Too late. Elf Lord and the Bossman had heard her and were on their way over.
McGee sped-read it, then covered his eyes. "Dude, I so didn't need to know that!"
Abby grinned. "So I was right!"
"Shut up!" Tony hissed, hastily folding the paper so Gibbs couldn't see what Ziva had written.
"Is something going on here that I need to know about?" said the team leader.
"No," DiNozzo said quickly, hoping the others would follow his lead. Neither Abby nor Tim contradicted him.
Gibbs returned to his desk.
The forensic scientist said, "Let me read it again!"
In response, Tony tossed it. It didn't matter, since he'd already memorized it. It read:
Tony,
I am the flower, you are the seed. We walked in the garden, we planted a tree. Don't try to find me—please don't you dare. Just live in my memory. You'll always be there.
Love,
Ziva
And all because of one reckless night of love. The only thought going through his head was, Ziva, I'm so sorry.
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