[NCIS Fic] Taking Chances (7/8) - Ziva/Abby
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Ziva David, Abby Sciuto, L.J. Gibbs, Jenny Sheppard, Tony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Eli David
Category: Drama, Action, Romance
Genre: Slash
Prompt: #1 Beginnings
Word Count: (Total) 15,148
Spoilers: Very mild ones for 3.17 "Ravenous" but it veers off from the episode very quickly.
Summary: Ziva invites Abby over for dinner. Romance and complications ensue.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Heh. What to say? This author's note might get to be longer than the entire fic. :p First up, a big thanks to
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Second of all, if you think you've read this fic before, you would be right. I started this fic in March of '06 and wrote the first three parts before I got stuck and stopped writing it. I always meant to come back to it, but it just never quite worked out. When I realized it was the last fic I had to complete to finish fanfic100 I decided it was really time to buckle down. Plus I rather like the symmetry of this being the first fic I started for fanfic100 and the last I finished.
In case you were just waiting to tune in until the old stuff had all been re-posted, this is the second new part! Enjoy!
My Little Damn Table
Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six
Part Seven
Ziva was in motion immediately, snatching her backpack out of its usual place, and slinging it over her shoulder as she fell into step beside him. She had learned better than to ask stupid questions about what they were doing or where they were going. Gibbs always had a reason for his decisions, even if they didn't seem apparent at the time. It was better to wait and be patient, instead of badgering him like Tony and earning a slap to the back of the head.
"No questions?" Gibbs asked, as he tossed her the keys.
"You will tell me when you're ready." A small smile quirked over Ziva's lips. "Although, perhaps directions would be helpful."
Gibbs didn't seem to share her amusement. "We're going to the Israeli Embassy. I need to speak to your father - in private."
Ziva's brow furrowed in surprise and confusion. "Did they talk already?" Her estimation of the arms dealers that they had brought in immediately dropped several notches. If they had spoken so freely about current and former clients, they were worthless assets and would soon find themselves dead when they were no longer in NCIS custody.
"Nope," Gibbs replied succinctly and Ziva only grew more puzzled. "But your father doesn't know that...yet."
Ziva's eyebrows shot up sharply. "You are going to try and bluff my father?"
"Do you have a problem with that, Officer David?" Gibbs asked bluntly, looking over at her steadily.
Slowly letting out a breath, Ziva shook her head. "No, I do not." She had made her decision the moment she killed Ari, to put herself in Gibbs' hands come what may, and to trust him to do what was right. It was far, far too late to change her mind now.
"Good. Because you're going to need to play your part."
"I can do that."
"I know."
The absolute certainty of his statement left Ziva pushing back a well of emotion. The past twenty-four hours had been an emotional roller coaster completed with very little sleep. She knew, however, that she did not yet have the luxury of indulging in emotion. There was too much to be seen through first and if it was not she was unlikely have the chance to deal with them anyway. If she were to go back to Israel, everything about her time at NCIS would have to be forgotten, not least of which was Abby. In the field, emotion was a distraction that could get her killed and Abby was already occupying too much of her mind. She needed to push her emotions away and once more become the Officer her father had always trained her to be.
Ziva focused on navigating through the traffic of D.C. streets and pushed everything but the relevant case details firmly to the back of her mind.
*** *** ***
"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked calmly, ignoring the intensity of Gibbs' gaze and the air of tension that seemed to surround them both.
"I need to speak to Officer Michael Bashan," he said succinctly.
The only indication that the receptionist considered this an unusual request was the flicker of her eyes as she glanced over Gibbs' shoulders at Ziva.
Ziva remained expressionless, giving away nothing under the woman's scrutiny. Finally she picked up the phone and made the necessary calls before turning her attention back to them.
"He will be with you as soon as he's available."
"Looks like it's time for the waiting game," Gibbs said with a wry smile, for her ears only.
Ziva nodded. "He does not know why you are here and he will not like that. He is trying to regain control of the situation or at least stall until he can discover your reasons."
"He can look all he wants, but it's not going to help him."
"True." Ziva agreed as she adopted a comfortable position and settled in to wait.
*** *** ***
"Officer David, what can we do for you today? It is not one of your scheduled visits." Although his comments were ostensibly addressed to her, his gaze never left Gibbs.
"I'm sure you were informed that I was involved in an incident this morning involving two gunmen." And Abigail. She felt a fist of remembered fear clench around her heart and made an effort to push the thought away. Abby did not need to be brought into this anymore than she already had been, and if she kept thinking about the danger Abby had been in she would be useless to Gibbs now.
"I need to speak to Director David." Gibbs cut in from behind her before Bashan could respond.
"Your own Director has channels to speak to him, surely." Bashan said blandly.
"She does." Gibbs said agreeably.
"It is in his best interest to keep this conversation...unofficial." Ziva clarified, taking a moment to settle on the word she wanted. This was all a game, each sentence another move forward circling closer to their goal, but it was a game that had to be played regardless.
"Is it, Officer David?" Bashan turned his attention to her now, pinning her with the full force of his gaze, asking her silently what she was doing here. He may not be aware of the reasons, but he certainly recognized behind the scenes maneuvers when he saw them.
She held steady and impassive under his gaze. She had withstood both Gibbs and her father and next to them, he was nothing.
"Very well, I will contact him, if you're certain that is what you wish. Your father is a very busy man."
"And I am not eight years old and calling him to ask for a pony," Ziva replied sharply. "I would not make this request without good reason."
His eyes narrowed, but Bashan made no further comment as he picked up the phone and dialed. It was several minutes and a few conversations later before he finally handed the phone to Ziva. "Your father - on a secure line."
"Thank you," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster and then handed the phone to Gibbs.
He took it in one hand, but kept his attention focused on Bashan. "Get out."
Bashan straightened to his full height immediately, full of indignation. "You may be able to do whatever you wish within the confines of your own agency, Agent Gibbs, but you have no standing here."
"Ya think?" Gibbs held the phone toward him. "Ask him what he wants."
Reluctantly Bashan took the phone. There was a brief flurry of conversation and then, stiffly, he handed the phone back to Gibbs. It was clear the effort it was costing him to complete the gesture in a civil manner. Without another word he walked to the door and pulled it closed behind him without once looking back.
Gibbs waited until it was closed, before he put the phone back in the cradle and flicked the speaker phone on. "Director David," he said simply.
"Agent Gibbs. It is good to finally speak to you at last."
"Really?" Gibbs asked skeptically. "Because I don't think so."
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Agent Gibbs, or
"We do not have let this discussion sink down to unpleasantness."
"You consider sending men to attack your daughter pleasant?" Gibbs demanded. "We have very different definitions of the word."
"How about this? I have an arms dealer in my custody that admits supplying the men that attacked your daughter this morning with weapons. He also admits to supplying Mossad officers with weapons in the past when they've been working inside this country. That's enough of a connection for me, and I think my Director will be very interested to hear about it as too. How is your political currency holding up now that your son had to be put down like the dog he was after being revealed as a traitor?"
Ziva held her breath. She had seen Gibbs interrogate subjects many times and he had never yet failed to get a confession when it was necessary. Seeing him use these skills against her father, however, was something else entirely. Everything was at stake, and it would all depend on whether Gibbs could best her father.
"You set him up! You destroyed him because he embarrassed your team member, your team and your agency. You will not succeed a second time. You will pay for the death of my son."
Gibbs laughed bitterly. "The only thing I did was reveal a traitor. You set him up the day you had his mother killed. Everything he did is on your hands," he added, slamming his hand down on the desk in front of him in anger.
In its wake, silence lingered, broken only by the harsh rasping of her father's breathing.
"What are your terms to keep this silent?"
"I want your men - the ones that are still alive - out of the country. Now," Gibbs added immediately. "Leave Ziva alone. Let her do her job as the Mossad Liaison to NCIS and stop interfering with her life or trying to force her to return to Israel. She is one of my agents now and she will stay here as long as she wants. Understood?"
"Yes, I understand you, Agent Gibbs," her father spoke slowly. "I understand you very well, but know this: one day I will have my vengeance."
Gibbs said nothing.
"Ziva," he continued. "You disappoint me still. Do as you wish now, but one day you will regret your decision. You will ask me to return home. It is in your blood. I am your blood and you will not deny me forever."
Without waiting for him to continue, Ziva hit the button to disconnect the phone. The dial tone echoed loudly through the room.