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"If we were not on a protection detail, I would kill him myself," Ziva muttered. She glanced over her shoulder, and through the open door of the bedroom to where the sleeping figure snored steadily.
Gibbs rolled his eyes at her mood and checked his watch. "You're not the only one with places you'd rather be. The trial finishes tomorrow, he gives his testimony, and then he goes home. Your move." He tapped the table with a finger, drawing her attention back to the Scrabble board.
"Hmm," Ziva responded, unsatisfied. Whether that was with her Scrabble tiles, the dingy safe house, or the situation as a whole was unclear. She fiddled with a few letters, laying them on the board. "I still feel like this could have been handled by one of the secondary teams. There has not been a hint of a threat so far. Music, with a double letter score on the C, that makes 12 points."
"SECNAV wants this case in the bag, and Vance promised his best people." Gibbs reminded her, sounding no more impressed than she did. He moved his hand toward his tiles, glancing at his watch as he did so.
"I swear if Tony's late this time..." she murmured, waiting until he lay new letters on the board and then jotted down the score. "Fifteen points. Also, the same number of minutes they have to show up."
Gibbs snorted quietly. "Not that you're counting," he said dryly. After being on duty for most of the day, they were waiting for Tony and McGee to relieve them to take the overnight watch. Vance had ordered that Tony and Ziva take separate watches, not fully trusting them to be alone on the field, despite the generally flawless professionalism they had demonstrated since he'd found out about their relationship.
Ziva's eyes flashed to his wrist as he shifted it again. "I am not the one checking my watch every other minute," she pointed out with a smirk.
Gibbs did not dignify the accusation with a response. "Make your move, Ziver."
Fortunately, the guys were right on time. They arrived just as Ziva was packing up the game, armed with thermoses of coffee and snacks to keep them awake until Gibbs and Ziva would return in the morning. "Anything new?" Tony asked as they gathered in the middle of the shabby loungeroom, exchanging updates over the somnial symphony from the bedroom. They no longer took in the peeling wallpaper, nor the faintly mildewy smell in the bathroom, but with the knowledge, this was nearing the last time they'd be stuck here (until another witness, victim, or informant required protection of course), the moods were less tired than usual.
Ziva slipped her jacket on. "So far, he has called me Sweetheart three times, Honey twice more, and another name that I will not repeat." She listed with a scowl. "We ordered a pizza, he ate, insisted on watching some wrestling match, and has been snoring for the last... three hours and seventeen minutes."
"So the situation is normal then?" McGee hung his coat on the hook Ziva had just freed up. The charge in their care had made no secret that he thought Ziva was attractive and expected his hefty bank account to make up for the many transgressions in his personality. When he wasn't trying to hit on Ziva, he spent most of his time asleep, which at least made keeping him safe easier, but the trash-compactor-like snoring did not make it any more pleasant.
"All normal. Make sure he's ready to go in the morning." Gibbs nodded, then rolled his eyes at Tony and Ziva. "Say goodnight, Ziva." The shift arrangements Vance had requested meant that over the past week, they'd only seen each other for a total of maybe a quarter-hour in increments of no more than two minutes at a time, and Gibbs and McGee had been treated to a rerun of their old cat-and-mouse flirting. Right now, they'd achieved the trifecta; standing a hair's breadth apart, Tony wearing a slightly goofy grin, eyes locked on Ziva's face, her dark eyes smouldering and her lips quirked in a knowing smile.
"Goodnight... Special Agent DiNozzo." The inflection on 'special' was minute but unmissable.
"One kiss, Boss?" Tony groaned as Ziva breezed past him towards the door, the tips of her fingers grazing his chest as she went.
"Don't even think about it." Gibbs gave Ziva a shove through the doorway. "You were the one who was so antsy to leave, quit teasing and get out of here."
"I left you wine in the fridge at my place, but don't drink the milk!" Tony called after them. "It'll be cottage cheese by now."
Ziva sighed as they made their way down the hall to the elevator. Long cases often meant foods with shorter use-by dates sometimes went forgotten, and it was more complicated now that they were splitting their nights between both of their apartments. "If you don't mind Gibbs, I would like to stop for food before you drop me off for the night. I do not want to eat anything in that kitchen knowing that."
"Can do," he agreed. "Not having you call out with food poisoning tomorrow."
Ziva directed Gibbs to a diner a few blocks away from Tony's apartment. The pair often frequented it on weekends, the food was quick and delicious, and best of all didn't come with a side of salmonella.
"Good coffee?" Gibbs asked steering the car into a parking space in the empty lot.
"The coffee is excellent," Ziva promised. She peered through the window at the empty diner, and her face brightened. "Joyce is serving. She knows us already. You should know she has assumed we are with Metro PD. We have not bothered to correct her." As always, they kept the precise details of their job as vague as possible in their outside lives.
They crossed the lot quickly, and the bell above the door jangled as Gibbs pushed it open. "Don't ask, don't tell," he agreed, holding it open to let Ziva in first. "That makes me...?"
"Joyce will tell you who you are." Ziva smiled mysteriously. "Wait and see."
"Hiya Darlin'! Wasn't expecting to see you tonight! Where's Fancy Pants?" When Ziva said that Joyce knew her, it seemed like an understatement, in the way that the plump woman threw down her dishcloth, hurried around from behind the till, and enthusiastically smacked a kiss on each of Ziva's cheeks.
"Tony is working nights right now." Ziva returned the embrace warmly. Joyce tsked in disapproval and Ziva turned to Gibbs, explaining, "If Abby is the president of the Tiva Fanclub, Joyce would be vice. Joyce this is-"
"No! Don't tell me..." Joyce studied Gibbs thoughtfully. "You must be her Daddy, she has your stubbornness, I can see it. Guessin', she looks like her Mama though. As for you, a haircut like that makes you an ex-Marine?"
"No such thing as..."
"As an ex-Marine," Joyce finished in unison, "Trick question and you passed. Husband and two sons in the Corps myself. Piercing eyes... sniper?" She chivvied them towards Tony and Ziva's favourite booth.
"Desert Storm, ma'am." He nodded.
"Don't ma'am me. It's Joyce. An honour to have you in my diner. Just keep those toys of yours in their holsters while you're in my establishment Gunny. You too Darlin' but you already know the rules." She pointed to their weapons and whipped the menus off the table before they had a chance to look at them. "Have your usual ready in a jiffy. And you..." she paused and cast another eye over Gibbs, considering. "Steak and potatoes, coffee straight up."
"Thanks," he replied, actually appearing to be thrown for a loop for once. He'd had no intention of getting food, just refuelling on caffeine and heading home.
"Frank! Our Darlin's in for dinner, and she got her Daddy with her, steak for a Marine!" Joyce hollered into the kitchen, hustling behind the counter to pour the coffee.
Ziva's smothered laugh caught his attention. "Come here often, Darlin'?" he questioned with a dry smile.
"Almost every weekend we are not at work, and Tony has been coming here even longer," Ziva replied, smirking, "I told you Joyce would decide where you fit... Dad." She delivered the last with a grin.
He pretended to consider this for a moment. "Well, I've been called worse," he decided with a shrug. "Darlin' I can get, but Fancy Pants?"
The grin widened across Ziva's face. "You know the price tag that comes with Tony's wardrobe!"
At that moment, Joyce bustled over with the drinks. "Hot chocolate, and extra marshmallows just the way you like it, Darlin'. Coffee for you Gunny, Marine approved." She slid the cups onto the laminate surface, and squeezed herself into the booth beside Gibbs, watching for his reaction as he had his first sip. "Told you so!" She beamed exultantly at his look of approval.
"Must've learned a thing or two from your husband," Gibbs said.
"That's him in the kitchen." Joyce nodded towards the back proudly. "Tell me Gunny, are you okay with your daughter all but living with Fancy Pants and no ring?" Ziva groaned and murmured something neither of them could quite catch.
"She can hold her own." Gibbs glanced across the table at her somewhere between affection and amusement.
Joyce looked unconvinced. "Don't want Fancy Pants sleeping on a good thing," she said, wagging a finger at Ziva. "You keep at him, Darlin' he'll ask you sooner or later."
"I will do the asking when it is time," Ziva laughed, stirring the softening marshmallows into her drink. "Joyce knew that Tony and I were together before anyone else... or even before we had admitted it to ourselves," she explained. "Since then, I think she has been counting the days that I show up here without an engagement ring."
Joyce gave a surprisingly deep chortle. "So what if I am? Fancy Pants has been comin' here for years. Always alone, always the same breakfast order. Then Darlin' here came in real early one weekend, looked like she'd run near on ten miles 'fore she showed up. She orders an egg and bacon bagel..."
"Double bacon, butter not mayo, and cheese on the side." Gibbs finished. He'd heard the order often enough to know it by rote.
Joyce narrowed her eyes. "Has Fancy Pants been moonlighting at other diners? Anyway, Darlin' here comes in and makes this order, and there's only one person who has his bagel like that... doesn't like it when the cheese melts..." She rolled her eyes expressively to her amused audience, apparently, they all shared the same opinion about that request. "So I know that bagel's goin' home to him. Well, I've never seen Fancy Pants with anyone before. I heard him talk about dates, but he's never brought a girl home to meet me. Told her she'd better look after him, never seen a girl buyin' breakfast for him before, knew right away she was special. Turns out I was right. Don't go more'n two weeks without seeing them now." Joyce beamed across the table at Ziva.
"That was the morning of the charity ball," Ziva elaborated for Gibbs' benefit. "The night you went with 'Aurelia'?"
"So Joyce tells you to take care of him, and you went back to Tony's and picked the worst fight you two ever had?" Gibbs chuckled, putting the timeline together quickly enough.
"I did not pick anything, it was all Tony!" Ziva said indignantly. The food was ready then, and Joyce quickly brought it from the serving window to their table.
She laid the plates in front of them with a flourish. "Frank cooked yours in a separate pan just like always Darlin'," she said with a nod to Ziva's grilled cheese/tomato soup combo.
"Joyce, that's not necessary," Ziva protested, smiling all the same. "You know that I do not keep kosher that strictly."
"Well, you don't wear that necklace just for show do ya? Know you don't like to eat meat and cheese together and if Frank cooked yours on the hotplate we can't promise that. Now eat up," Joyce ordered. They did just that, the food as Ziva promised was good. Joyce topped up their drinks, and then pottered around behind the counter, tidying up and getting ready to close. When their plates were cleared, Joyce attempted to force-feed them dessert, which they both declined, and when Gibbs went to the till to pay, Ziva quickly made a detour to the ladies' room.
As she tugged the paper towel free from the holder, something felt different... wrong. She'd heard the bell over the door jingle again as she'd washed her hands, but now the banter between Gibbs and Joyce - Gibbs trying to pay, Joyce arguing that family eats for free - that had filtered through the plywood door had fallen quiet, too quiet. Tony called them her Ninja senses, Gibbs her gut, whatever they were, they were definitely switched on now. Cautiously she cracked open the door to listen.
The silence was broken by a new voice. "Empty the till!" Ziva pushed the door a little wider. Gibbs was standing between Joyce and a figure wearing a hoodie.
"Joyce, go around behind the counter," Gibbs instructed calmly, keeping his eyes on the would-be robber. "Put the knife down kid, you don't want to do this." Ziva slipped out of the bathroom door, closing it slowly, stuffing her paper towel in the gap to stop it from slamming. Gibbs caught her eye ever so slightly and she nodded, understanding; if they could talk him down without getting physical, they would.
"And what're you going to do, old man? You gonna stop me?" Gibbs stepped sideways slightly, keeping the robber's attention focused on him. "I said empty the till!" He snapped at Joyce again, as he followed Gibbs around, turning his back entirely to Ziva. The older woman had made it behind the safety of the counter but had not yet opened the register.
Gibbs nodded, slowly and calmly in Joyce's direction. "You just stay right there Joyce. No one needs to get hurt. I'll stop you if I have to, but it'll be a lot easier if you put the knife down and walk out of here now." Ziva could tell they were too close for her boss to pull his gun without the attacker getting a strike in first. "What d'ya need the money for? Gotta be a better way to go about this." As Gibbs talked, Ziva took the opportunity to inch forward silently, waiting for his signal.
"You and what army huh, Pops? Already took care of the geezer out by the dumpster." His voice was young, not yet done breaking, and Ziva could hear the fear beneath the bravado, he didn't really want to hurt anyone, but she knew that a frightened attacker was almost always less predictable than an angry one.
"Frank!" Joyce gasped, clutching at the edge of the counter for support. "He was taking out the trash..." she faded off, as her eyes met Ziva's, and hurriedly, Ziva raised a finger to her lips, hoping the woman's panic would not give her away.
Gibbs caught the action too, one hand giving Joyce the wait signal, the other still held up in a stop sign towards the kid. "Okay, you stay right there for now Joyce, we'll get to him in a minute." Still, Gibbs did not break eye contact with the young man. "Last time I'm gonna ask you, put the knife down."
The man stepped closer to Gibbs, brandishing the knife, with a kind of cocky frantic laugh. "Like I said, you and what army?" There it was, the almost imperceptible flash of Gibbs' eyes in her direction.
She lengthened her stride to cross the remaining distance quickly, landing her hand on his shoulder. "This army." He spun, shocked at Ziva's voice in his ear. His arm came up in a wild swing, slashing the knife through the air. Prepared, she caught his wrist mid-swing, using the momentum to drag him down and across, throwing a knee into his ribs and dropping him on the floor in one smooth movement. As she stepped back to regain her balance, he made one attempt to right himself and lunged at her waist, she went lower, ducking under his arms and sweeping a kick through his ankles that had him sprawling on the floor again. "Drop the weapon." She brought her boot down firmly on his wrist.
"No time for showing off, David," Gibbs growled from behind the counter, he'd helped Joyce slide to the floor to sit while she caught her breath.
Ziva rolled her eyes for a second, repeating the command and increasing the pressure with her foot until the man's fingers widened and spread. She used her other foot to kick the knife out of reach, before bending and grabbing the same arm. "Hands behind your back," she ordered, dragging the arm she held back towards his spine. He struggled, attempting to resist, she dropped to her knee in the soft part of his back, twisting the wrist she held harder. "I said, hands behind your back!" She pinned both hands with one of her own, and without looking, flung her empty one up to catch the handcuffs she knew Gibbs had already tossed her way.
"I got him, go take care of Joyce and Frank." Gibbs' voice was low in her ear. "This is why Vance wanted you on protection detail. Nice work, Darlin'."