𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ━━ 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐳𝐳𝐨

TWENTY TWO | i'm sorry

"Did, uh, Agent Fillmore just storm out?"

I carry three beverages, all balanced perfectly in the tray. Tony greets me with the usual kiss to the cheek, and McGee flashes a smile.

"Yes. Yes, she did." The latter lifts a heavy stack of papers. "But not before dropping off her letter of resignation."

The tips of my brows lift in surprise. "That's a letter of resignation? I thought it was your next manuscript."

"She called you apathetic."

"That bitch."

Gibbs arrives at our most recent crime scene rather late, the three of us having already started to take pictures and bag and tag evidence.

All three victims from the bachelor party were found dead and shaved postmortem.

"Bachelor number one is Marine Staff Sergeant Jeff Ross, a mechanic on leave from Camp Muchuk in South Korea."

"Bachelor number two's Eric Jurel, a civilian who runs an auctioneering school all the way in D.C.."

"And our guest of honor: Alan Sandich, a low-level file clerk at the Pentagon."

Images of the men flash across the plasma, including their driver's licenses, before showcasing all three simultaneously.

"Talk to the fiancée?" Gibbs questions from behind.

McGee shakes his head. "She's out of town, but we're working on getting a hold of her now."

"No criminal records across the board," Tony clasps his hands over the remote, "unless you count egging a church freshman year of high school."

"Egging a church? What for?"

"Find out."

"You got it, boss."

The boys and I prepare to leave for an impromptu visit when a familiar person exits through the elevator doors.

"Ziva." A breath hitches in my throat.

"Eva." She replies with a sincere smile.

Tony gently yanks me back to stand behind him, afraid the tension from the past three months without her would showcase itself. "What are you doing here, Ziva?"

"David."

Vance enters the bullpen.

"With me."

"That answers that question." McGee mutters to himself.

The first palace we start is bachelor number one's school of auctioneering, Jurel Auctioneers. Jay Danorth, the professor currently teaching, dismisses his class when we announce ourselves.

"Is this about Eric Jurel? I already heard." Danforth steps off the stage. "Good news travels fast."

"Good news?" McGee asks in sheer surprise.

"Well, he's dead, isn't he?"

"Did you wake up this morning wanting to be the prime suspect of a murder investigation?"

"If wishing Eric Jurel dead makes me a suspect, then so is every employee of this auction school." He scoffs lightheartedly. "Eric took pleasure in making others miserable. No one is shedding any tears for that man."

A woman sitting at the desk nearby holds a damp handkerchief to her nose.

"I beg to differ."

With a groan, the professor rolls his eyes. "That's Elaina, our miscellaneous items broker. She could sell sand to a Bedouin and then bore him to death about her latest crush. Pay her no heed."

"It's our job to heed."

And the three of us walk to the grieving young woman. Thankfully, she reveals sensitive information about Jurel's phone call from the night before: he thought someone was following him.

Further research proves Sandich's real bachelor party was five months ago, and his fiancée left him after discovering what had happened with the stripper.

The next morning, I leave the bullpen to grab a snack from the vending machine, but somehow, I run into the same familiar face.

Only this time in the ladies' bathroom.

"I. . .I am not exactly sure what to say." She stares off into space momentarily.

"I'm glad to know you have no reason for surprising me in the women's restroom." My hand twists the knob to the sink.

Her knuckles glow white against the countertop. "I'm sure it had to be said."

And so she begins.

"When Tony shot Michael, I almost killed him and you. He was lying on the ground without adequate backup, completely violating protocol. And you. . .double-parked."

I notice her stare from the peripherals.

"But that does not matter. Just like it does not matter how it worked out for Michael."

My figure tenses at the mention of her ex-partner. "Is there anything else then?"

"You had my back. You have always had my back." She admits to me. . .and herself. "I was wrong to question your motives, Eva. As well as Tony's."

"I'm sorry, Ziva." Tears prick my eyes as I turn to her, a sorrowful smile forming slowly.

"No." The woman immediately shakes her head. "It is I who am sorry. I should've trusted you."

"Well, be grateful I forgive easily."

"And to think, I was about to offer a cupcake."

"On second thought. . ."

Ziva returns to Director Vance's office while I head back to the bullpen, unable to force down the grin on my face.

The three men fail to notice — and if they do notice, they don't say a single word in regards.

"I figured out how to track Officer Shelley." Tony beams proudly. "McGee's tracking his spare burner phone right now."

"Making a call right now." McGee works the keyboard of his computer.

In sync, Gibbs' desk phone rings with an incoming call.

"Boss, you may wanna answer that."

Shelley requests to speak to Tony, trying to prove his innocence in the triple homicide. Meanwhile, McGee's tracking the phone to a distinct location.

He asks to meet by a phone booth near his location, but we're only met with his dead body.

With some insightful forensics work in Abby's lab, we find Elaina Marcus to be the murderer of all four men.

Seems like the women's restroom is a popular conference room for the team as Tony enters and locks the door behind him.

"Couldn't help but notice you've been all smiles since a little potty break." He states in a firm tone.

"Ziva and I. . .talked things out." I run my hands under the water in the sink. "She apologized, I apologized, and we made up."

From behind, his hand brushes my hair across over my shoulder, and his lips graze the nape of my neck.

Tony looks up in the mirror to catch my gaze. "You've never looked more beautiful to me than when you smile."

"And you've never looked sexier than when you're wearing your holster."

". . .are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It's the women's restroom, Tony!"

"And?"