Categories > TV > NCIS > All I Wanna Do . . .

Chapter Six

by Brambleshadow 0 reviews

Category: NCIS - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2012-10-13 - Updated: 2012-10-13 - 1102 words - Complete

It didn't take long for Ziva to move back; she'd kept paying the rent for reasons unknown even to her and she didn't have a whole lot in the safe house anyway. The next day, she received a visitor. She should have been expecting it, really.

There, standing in the doorway, was the whole team, Abby included. Ziva sighed and started to shut the door, but Gibbs braced a hand against the doorframe, preventing her from closing it all the way. "Ziva, can't we come in?"

She thought about it, glanced around, and reluctantly stepped back, allowing them in. The Gothic forensic scientist's gaze immediately fell on little Sarah and she grinned broadly. "I knew it!"

"Quiet!" Ziva hissed. "She's asleep." She shot a look over her shoulder to make sure her daughter was still asleep. The girl was dead to the world. Satisfied, Ziva returned her gaze to the team. "What are you doing here?"

Everyone looked at Tony and stepped back, leaving the father of her child standing awkwardly in front of Ziva. He looked back briefly, the look on his face saying, Come on, seriously? Why me? At Abby's shooing motion with her hands, he turned back to the Israeli. "Uh, good question. Someone"—he glared pointedly at McGee—"let it slip to Abby that the reason you've been gone so long is because you're raising our daughter. Naturally, she dragged all of us here."

Ziva had to smile at the mental image of Abby grabbing the three agents by their hands and pulling them behind her all the way to the parking lot. "Why do I have no trouble believing that?"

Behind Tony, Gibbs cleared his throat. "Ziva, do you still want to come back to NCIS?"

She held his gaze steadily. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically. "Maybe because someone has to care for your child."

"Well, other female agents have been able to raise families, right?" she argued. "I don't see why I can't."

"We-ll," Tim said slowly, "how about we just leave?" Even as he asked the question he was slinking for the door. Before he reached it, however, the door opened. Everyone whirled around.

There in the doorway was Rivkin, looking extremely confused. "What's going on?"

Gibbs marched right up in the Mossad officer's face. He growled, "I thought I told you to leave the country already."

"As did I," Tony added. If looks could kill, Michael would be lying on the floor dead in a millisecond.

Abby and McGee slowly backed away, the Goth whispering, "Awkward," in a singsong-y voice.

"Ya think?" Elf Lord replied sarcastically.

Gibbs glared at the two. "How 'bout the both of you: shut up."

Abby gasped, "Gibbs! You've never said that to me. Never!" However, she fell silent when everyone—McGee included—stared at her with a will-you-shut-up-and-get-to-the-point look. The Goth gulped and said, "Shutting up. I'm gonna leave now. Come on, McGee."

"Wait, what?"

But she had already pulled him out the door, much to the others' amusement.

When they were gone, Gibbs went into the kitchen in search of coffee and to give the three of them some room. This could turn very ugly.

There was silence for a few heartbeats as Tony and Michael gave each other long, measured looks. Rivkin's gaze froze as he took in the color of Tony's eyes. Then they flickered to Sarah's, resting on her for a moment, before finally landing on Ziva. In that single look, she knew he knew the truth and she found she couldn't bear the upset look in his eyes. There was more than hurt: there was anger, too.

"You lied to me." His voice was cool, devoid of emotion.

From the kitchen came Gibbs' voice. "Hey, Ziva! Where do you keep the coffee?"

She sighed. "I'll be right back," she told the two men standing in front of her. She ducked into the kitchen, grabbed the coffee can for Gibbs, and was back in the living room in less than a minute. Her mouth opened to speak, but Tony interrupted before she could say anything.

"Hey, if it's any consolation, she didn't say anything to me," DiNozzo told Rivkin.



"That still doesn't make it right. She had your daughter without telling you, and told me it was mine. And of course, there's the little matter of how this came to be in the first place."

"Very good point. Is anyone else reminded of The Notebook?"

Ziva sighed and slapped a hand on her forehead, slowly dragging it down. "Tony, this isn't one of your movies."

"You're right about that," called Gibbs from the kitchen.

The three of them turned and stared in the silver-haired agent's direction. Apparently the ex-Marine was still making coffee. Or not, since moments later the sounds of splashing liquid followed by loud swearing could be heard. Then Gibbs appeared in the doorway, sipping from a mug of black coffee. "Please, don't let me interrupt," he said when he noticed their stares.

Oo-kay, Ziva thought. Finally she forced herself to meet Michael and Tony's eyes. Anger was still smoldering in Rivkin's, while DiNozzo's were dancing with suppressed laughter. She really didn't find anything in the situation funny and said so.

Gibbs took a sip of coffee and said, "She's right, DiNozzo. This is your daughter. Are you sure you're up to being a father?"

The laughter in Tony's eyes faded quickly. "What about him?" He pointed at Michael with an index finger, since his arms were folded across his chest. "He shouldn't even be in the United States. Mossad can't operate on American soil."

"I'm working undercover, trying to apprehend a sleeper cell in Los Angeles," Rivkin said calmly.

"Why, you—" DiNozzo started forward, ready for a fight. The Mossad officer faced him, eyes goading him on.

"Stop!" Ziva cried. When they both looked at her, she ordered, "Both of you, get out! Now! If you don't . . . well, I really don't want to hurt either of you, but I will."

The two men knew she would carry out her threat, so they did the smart thing and left.

When they left, the only people in the room were Ziva, little Sarah, and Gibbs. Ziva turned to the man she thought of as a surrogate father, unshed tears in her eyes. Knowing what she needed, he set down the coffee mug and held her close. "Ziva, it's going to be okay," he assured her softly. "You'll work it out."

"I hope you're right."

Stroking her hair to calm her down, Gibbs thought, I hope so, too.
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