Ziva breezed through the day, hardly paying attention to her surroundings or what anyone was saying. Good thing they weren't out in the field chasing bad guys today.
"Ziver!"
"Hm?" She looked up in confusion.
Gibbs was standing right in front of her desk. "I said to get out of here. Go home."
"Oh. Okay." She shut down her computer and grabbed her bag.
Tony was waiting for her at the elevator, bouncing on his feet like he wanted to say something to her. She wished he wouldn't do that; it always made her a little nervous when he wouldn't just come out and say something. She always valued his thoughts, regardless of the impression she gave.
He hit the button for the ground floor, still not saying anything.
"Tony, stop. You are bouncing the entire elevator," she said finally.
"Sorry. Does it bother you?"
"Yes, but that does not matter. What is bothering you?"
"Me?"
She gave him that 'yes, you, you idiot' look.
"Nothing's bothering me."
"Oh, please. Let me guess, you want to ask about my date with Ray tonight."
The look on his face plainly said that's exactly what it was.
"You can ask. But I cannot promise I will answer."
Tony shrugged. "Is he going to show up?"
She punched him.
He was still whimpering when the elevator doors opened again. "Have fun tonight. But not too much fun." Even though he added a suggestive wink, Ziva knew his heart wasn't in teasing her. Not about this.
***
Tony tidied up a little bit around his apartment and then went to the bar to meet McGee for drinks and the game.
"He's not going to show up."
"Who?" McGee tore his eyes from the TV to stare at Tony.
"Ray. He's supposed to be coming back from Europe and meeting Ziva for dinner tonight, but something's going to happen and he isn't going to show up. He's going to stand her up."
"And you know this how?"
"Doesn't the guy's past speak for itself?"
"I guess. But just because he's done it before doesn't mean he'll do it again."
"He will. I'll bet you fifty bucks."
McGee looked disgusted. "Tony, no. I'm not betting on the outcome of Ziva's date. She's our friend."
"And as a friend, I'm concerned that her dirtbag boyfriend is going to stand her up without reason."
The younger agent sighed and tapped his beer on the table. "You need to leave it alone. She's happy with him, and that's what matters."
"Except she's not happy. You saw how she's been the past couple of months. She's falling apart, and it's because of Ray."
"That's the beer talking. It's not as bad as you say it is."
"Is it?" McGee's stubborness to see what Tony saw was fouling up his mood. And yeah, okay, maybe the beer was playing with his mind a little. But not a lot. He knew he was right.
***
Walking in, Ziva was hardly aware of the stares. However, once she reached the reserved table and sat down to wait, she began to notice the many eyes on her, an attractive woman sitting alone.
She ordered a water while she waited for Ray, but she spun the straw around, listening to the tinkling of the ice, rather than drink it.
Her throat became drier and drier as the minutes ticked by.
Seven o'clock came and went.
Eight o'clock approached, then was far behind her.
Ziva checked her phone for the umpteenth time, but there was no message from Ray. No text, no call, no voicemail. He'd called around noon to say he was back in D.C., so why wasn't he here?
The waitress stopped by again, sympathy in her eyes as she asked if Ziva would like a refill.
"No, thanks." Her words came out chokingly.
She looked at her phone again, willing the screen to show her some message she had missed, anything that would ease the pain in her heart. Anything to soothe her humiliation.
Still nothing.
She sat at the table for another hour, trying not to cry in front of everyone.
When the clock reached nine o'clock, Ziva stood up and left without a word.
In her car, in the darkened parking lot, Ziva lost control.
Oceans poured from her eyes and she hit the steering wheel once, twice, as her heart felt like it was being crushed in her chest.
How could he have done this to her? Why hadn't he called? Why didn't he even text?
She tried to be mad, but all she could muster were more tears.
Ziva didn't cry often, but when she did, it was a hurricane.
***
Ray looked down in horror at all the blood. He hadn't meant to do it. It was an accident. God, it was an accident. He hadn't been aiming for her. She just... got in the way.
His heart rate kicked up even higher when he saw the time.
Ziva.
How could he have let the time get away from him like that?
But that wasn't important right now. Ziva was important, yes, very important, but he had just murdered an American civilian on American soil.
Murdered.
The word sent his blood cold.
Fear coursed through him as he considered the consequences for his actions. Jail time, lethal injection... And he would lose Ziva.
He swore. How could he have been so careless?
The only way out he could see was the way he liked least. But the director of the CIA would give him some measure of protection if he informed him immediately.
Ray reluctantly removed his phone from his pocket. This was the call every agent hoped he would never have to make. If Ray was lucky enough to escape charges, he'd still undoubtedly be pressured to leave the CIA for good. No one wants to keep a screw-up in the office.
Was it worth his job?
He could cover the murder up. He'd been working in this business for years; he certainly knew how.
Ziva's face danced into his mind again.
Could he lie to her? What if she ever found out what he had done?
No. He couldn't.
Could he?
Ray turned back to the body again, staring into the eyes of the dead woman. All he would have to do is move a few things around, erase some evidence. It would be so easy.
A notification made his phone vibrate, and he jumped. Nothing shakes you out of your thoughts like a reminder to give your dog its allergy medication.
That was it. He had to call the director, or he would lose Ziva and his dog would be taken to the pound. He couldn't do it.
Fingers trembling, Ray made the call.
*****
What do you think?
Do you like seeing Ray's side?
Do you think he made the right choice?
I am loving writing (er, typing) this, so I hope you like reading it.