Far Away

Lost and Found

Tony was bored.

Really bored.

He checked his phone again, even though there was no chance of getting a signal way out here.

Somehow he found himself scrolling through his photos. He had a few of the team, a few of Ziva, all taken on the sly, of course. She'd kill him if she saw some of these, he realized with a laugh.

That's not to say they were bad pictures. He really liked them.

"Hey, Sammy, any chance I can print something?" he asked on a whim.

The younger man looked up from his book. "Sure, there's a printer in the command room."

Tony smirked at the picture currently on the screen. Yeah, this was definitely going up on his wall. 

"What's that you're ogling at?" Sammy was too quick for him, grabbing the phone before Tony could get the picture off the screen. "Dang. Who's that?"

"My partner. Or, she was."

"Dang," Sammy repeated. "She's something else."

"She really is."

Yep, Ziva would definitely kill him.

But on the upside, she'd have to be in the same place as him to kill him. He'd get to see her again, and that would make it worth it.

"Is she the reason you're being weird?"

Tony's head jerked up.

"That's a yes." Sammy flashed his own little smirk over the top of his book.

"I'm not being weird," Tony said defensively.

"Sure you are. You've been ignoring everyone. You've been moping around since you got on the ship. It's weird. Is it about her?"

He stood up quickly, pushing the table a few inches out of place. "It's none of your business."

"Okay, man, sorry, I didn't mean-"

He didn't hear the rest because he stormed out. He didn't know where he was intending to go, but he kept walking. He plowed through the narrow corridors, forcing everyone else to dodge him. He wasn't going to stop for anyone. For anything.

He found himself outside again, the scent of salt water assaulting his nose, the wind whipping through his hair and making his eyes water.

Good.

Then no one would suspect that the tears rolling down his cheeks were caused by pain.

***

She growled as the knocking started up again. "I told you, I am done. Go away," she called through the bolted door before stalking away.

"Ziva, can we please talk?"

She froze. That wasn't her father's voice.

She went back to the door and looked through the peep hole. That definitely wasn't her father.

Her hand went to the bolt before she could think it through.

"Who are you?" she asked, not opening the door all the way.

He was good-looking, whoever he was. "Michael Rivkin."

"That does not answer my question."

"Right." He reached into his coat pocket, and Ziva's hand strayed to her pistol. His hand held a badge when it left his pocket. "I am also an officer with Mossad."

"Oh." She frowned. "Did my father send you?"

"No. I came of my own accord."

They stood there for a long moment, neither talking as Ziva looked him over again and assessed the situation. Surely her father wouldn't go so far as to send an assassin to her door, would he? Surely he wasn't that mad at her?

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Heard about what happened earlier. Thought I would try to smooth things over."

She didn't miss the way his eyes roamed over her own body. Immediately her eyes narrowed. "That is unnecessary."

"I believe otherwise. Please, may I come in?"

She didn't budge. "Whatever you have to say, you can say right here."

"Fine." He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and hastily back. Healing injury, perhaps? That could work in her favor if things got out of control. "I am the other agent on the assignment your father gave you."

That would explain why his name sounded vaguely familiar.

She still didn't trust him.

"It would make my job a lot easier if you helped. That is why I am here. To ask for your help."

"If you managed to get my address, I am sure you can handle a silly little mission by yourself," she said hotly. Seriously, had her father made it that easy for her to be found?

"I disagree. I will be unable to carry it out on my own."

"That is rather unfortunate."

"You were meant to be lead. I was assigned only as a second thought."

"Then step up your game. I am not helping Mossad anymore." She tried to close the door but his foot got in the way.

"Ziva, please. At least think about it?"

"No."

"Ziva-"

She lashed out, making him stumble back so she could close the door. She locked it and went to the stereo, turning it up as far as it would go to tune out any further knocking.

She went to the window and opened it, thankful that the next building was so close and level with her floor. It was incredibly easy to jump to the next roof and from there make her way down the stairs to the street.

If it was going to be so easy to find her, she was going to find somewhere else to live. For now, anyway.

She didn't intend to stay in Tel Aviv much longer.

*****

Sorry Tony's POV got so emotional. I was listening to Not About Angels by Birdy when I was writing it and got a little caught up in the feels.

And Ziva's... I don't know. I make it up as I go.

But don't worry about Michael. He's just a distraction.

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