Disclaimer: Maybe I own NCIS in an alternate world, but I rather doubt it. I certainly don't own it here!

A/N: I've been working on this fic intermittently ever since 9x12: "Housekeeping," but I didn't manage to finish it until recently. Apparently I'm a much more prolific writer when I'm procrastinating on tasks that will actually impact my real life. Go figure. ;-)

Throughout the fic, E.J. refers to characters in different ways; this is an intentional inconsistency and is meant to reflect her shifting perceptions.

It takes a while for her to add all of the pieces up. She's a bit embarrassed, actually, at how long it took. She's an NCIS special agent, a team leader. She's observant, but she didn't realize what everything that she'd observed meant until a year had passed.

-–- -–- -–- -–- -–-

I. Scuttlebutt (between "One Last Score" and "Out of the Frying Pan")

E.J. has heard the rumors. Of course she has. You can't be an NCIS agent based in D.C. for over a week and not hear tales of the MCRT. The tales often focus on the inhuman abilities of their leader, the tech abilities of their resident geeks, and the relationship between a playboy SFA and his temperamental ex-Mossad partner. According to scuttlebutt, said relationship has long been contentious and sexually-charged.

But while these rumors make for good stories, E.J. knows better than to give them too much credence. Scuttlebutt is notoriously unreliable. Bored government workers will inevitably come up with ways to entertain themselves, and what's more entertaining than a forbidden, volatile affair between two attractive people?

Gibbs isn't superhuman and Tony and Agent David don't seem that close. (Although she will admit that scuttlebutt was on target about Timothy McGee's and Abigail Scuito's tech abilities.)

Still, as time passes and she continues to observe Tony's dynamic with his female partner, she can't help but get a bit suspicious. Where there's smoke, there's often fire, after all…

II. From the Horse's Mouth (between "One Last Score" and "Out of the Frying Pan")

So she asks him.

"Have you and Agent David ever been involved?"

"Depends on how you define 'involved,'" he says, smiling charmingly. Seeing her exasperated look, he snorts, "Oh please. Me and the Ice Queen of Ninjas? I like my balls where they are, thanks."

E.J. feels herself relax a little bit at his words.

"Where's this coming from anyway, huh?" he asks.

Feeling rather stupid, she says, "Oh, gossip. And then there's the fact that your partner keeps glaring at me."

"Ziva never gets along with new people," Tony assures her. "In fact, she doesn't even get along with people that she's known for a while. She… isn't a people person. At all. As for the gossip…" he shrugs helplessly "… we did go on an undercover as a couple once when she first joined the team. It didn't end well. If people are still talking about that, then they have way too much free time on their hands. That, or extraordinarily boring paperwork. I lean towards the latter."

E.J. smirks in acknowledgement.

"I mean, it's crazy," Tony continues. "Me and Ziva. Who'd want to shackle themself into a relationship with that many built-in issues?"

"Clearly you have better taste," E.J. agrees.

His face twitches so briefly that she thinks she might have imagined it before he says, "I do have excellent taste."

He leans in closer to her and she murmurs, "Oh yeah? Wanna prove it?"

Before the words are all the way out of her mouth, he's pinned her against the wall. His lips on hers quickly drive away any musings on the previous subject.

III. Movie Night (between "Out of the Frying Pan" and "Tell-All")

"Take a look at my shelves, grab whatever movie you feel like," Tony says, heading to his room to get changed.

"Will do," E.J. replies, smiling.

She's still rooting through his extensive collection when he emerges again.

"You have quite the impressive collection here," she tells him.

"Thanks," he says. "I do like to think that I have my priorities straight."

"Mmm," she agrees. Then, seeing a particular title, she raises her eyebrows. "Never thought you'd be one for musicals."

"Musicals?" Tony says, now distractedly searching in his refrigerator for food.

"Really, Tony, The Sound of Music?" E.J. asks, holding up the DVD.

"Oh. Yeah," Tony says, turning around to face her again. "Not mine."

E.J. waits, face skeptical.

"Well, OK, technically it's mine, but I never watch it," Tony says. "I just hold onto it for Ziva."

"Your partner?" E.J. asks, although she knows that it has to be the same person. 'Ziva' isn't what you'd call a common name around these parts.

"Yeah," Tony says. "When she's had a rough day, she just loves watching those singing nuns."

"Huh," E.J. says. "I wouldn't have pegged her as a musical aficionado."

"Well, Ziva's kind of a private person," Tony says, turning back to the refrigerator.

"I always thought she'd be more of the action movie type of girl, myself," E.J. adds.

"Oh, she likes a good violent action flick too, don't get me wrong," Tony says, pulling a Chinese take-away container out of the fridge. Upon opening it, he wrinkles his nose and throws the entire thing into the trash. "Even if she does complain about how inaccurate they are all the time. But nothing cheers Ziva up like a musical. Well, that or shooting things. And out of the two, she's far less likely to get in trouble over watching a movie with singing hills and goats and dancing Nazis."

E.J. fights to keep her face neutral.

"You watch a lot of movies with her?" she asks.

"Well, yeah. We're partners," Tony says, shrugging as though it's perfectly normal to know your work partner's movie tastes so thoroughly.

Then again, this is Tony. Talkative, movie-quoting Tony. She wouldn't be surprised if he knew his entire team's movie preferences.

"OK, I don't have anything edible in here," Tony says, at last abandoning the refrigerator. "Unless you're interested in a delicious dinner of ketchup, mayonnaise, and mustard?"

E.J. lets her face speak for itself.

"I thought not," Tony says, grinning. "Want to order a pizza?"

"I'll get the phone," E.J. answers promptly.

IV. Cats and Dogs (between "Tell-All" and "Two-Faced")

"How can two people who argue so much stand to work together all the time?" E.J. asks Agent McGee one day when the office is relatively deserted.

"Opposing personalities can spur one another onto new heights of achievement," McGee says simply. "Besides, they collaborate well, even if you'd never guess it by listening to them."

"I suppose they'd have to, to be partners for so long," E.J. says, eyebrows arched. "Were they like this when you first joined the team?"

"Actually, Ziva became a part of NCIS after I did," McGee says calmly, typing away on his computer. "But yeah, they've always been like this, more or less."

"I guess I'm just surprised that they're so close," E.J. says, shrugging, and returns to work.

V. Overprotective, Part I (post "Two-Faced")

"Can you believe it?" E.J. storms, "The nerve of Gibbs, saying he doesn't trust me. He all but ordered me to stay away from you!"

"We've had a… rough time with agents," Tony says in explanation, grimacing. "Five years ago, Abby's lab assistant framed me for murder and tried to kill her. Then two years ago, a probie on our team turned out to be a mole. And almost every significant other that anyone on our team has had has tried to spy on, frame, or kill at least one of us. So Gibbs is a little bit protective."

"A little," E.J. snorts. "If he was any more protective, he'd lock all of you in a safe house twenty-four/seven and be done with it."

"Nah," Tony replies, a faint smirk appearing on his face, "that's what the office is for."

E.J. rolls her eyes.

He has a point. While all NCIS agents put in large amounts of overtime, Gibbs' MCRT team probably takes the cake for the most hours spent at HQ.

Of course, Tony wasn't at HQ when that eyeball was found. He was at a bar. At night. With Agent Ziva David of the rolling consonants ('Rrrrota') and the come-hither eyes.

But E.J. isn't a jealous woman. David is his partner and he's allowed to hang out with her. He doesn't need to explain himself to E.J.; he's a grown man and their relationship is casual. So she won't ask.

(But she wonders a little bit anyway.)

VI. Croissant ("Dead Reflection")

They're sitting across from one another, heads bent close in hushed conversation. There's nothing inappropriate about this scene, but E.J. feels like an intruder nonetheless. E.J. doesn't like feeling as though she's interrupting an intimate moment. But they're at work, for God's sake, and Tony is her… boyfriend?… fuckbuddy?… well, Tony is hers, at any rate.

She interrupts their little powwow and tries not to take too much pleasure in it.

(But she'll admit to feeling strangely satisfied when she steals the remaining portion of the croissant that they'd been sharing. Take that, Ziva David.)

VII. Overprotective, Part II (between "Dead Reflection" and "Baltimore")

E.J. steps into the elevator and lets her shoulders slump in exhaustion. At long last, she can go home and sleep. One of the pitfalls of being team leader is that you have lots more paperwork.

The elevator doors are starting to close when a hand appears out of nowhere, stopping them. E.J. jerks her head up and sees Ziva David slide into the elevator.

Great. Just great. This is just what she needed to finish off her day. Maybe the agent won't talk?

But her hopes are shattered within seconds of the elevator doors closing.

"Hello, Agent Barrett," David says politely. "How are you settling into NCIS?"

Smiling nonchalantly, E.J. replies, "I'm doing fine, thanks. So far, I've found everyone to be very welcoming."

OK, so she couldn't resist that last dig.

"Ah, yes," David says, her own smile growing a bit fiercer. "I wanted to speak with you about that."

David pulls a lever and suddenly the elevator grinds to a halt.

"OK," E.J. says bemusedly, determined not to show how edgy she feels in an enclosed space with the former Mossad operative. "You have my undivided attention."

David's smile widens and E.J. gets the uncomfortable feeling that the other woman knows exactly how unnerved she's feeling.

"People here are… kind. Trusting," David says, examining her fingernails with seeming absent-mindedness. E.J. isn't fooled for a second. "I am not."

E.J. waits, as it's clear that David isn't done speaking.

"Certain people… are not as tough as they appear. Tread carefully."

"So in other words, don't hurt Tony or you'll hurt me?" E.J. says sarcastically, unable control her own tongue. "Hate to break it to you, but you're late to the party. I've already heard the spiel from Gibbs and I'm not intimidated."

Ziva purses her lips and says, "You should be. That you are not afraid merely shows your ignorance. But this is irrelevant." She brushes the statement off and continues, "I am merely saying that Tony is… Tony. He loves movies and practical jokes – yes, perhaps a bit too much – but he is much more than them. And he has been hurt many times before. I will not idly stand by and let him get hurt again."

E.J. raises her eyebrows, knowing that there has to be a story there, but common sense tells her not to ask and – for once – she listens to it.

"I am telling you this as a courtesy," David says, eyes dark and voice matter-of-fact. "I know over fifty ways to kill someone with office supplies and make it look like an accident. Also, if you tell anyone about this conversation, I will know."

With these words, she pulls the lever and the elevator starts moving downwards again.

Well shit.

She'd always wondered if David had a bit of a thing for Tony. Now she has her answer.

VIII. Different ("Pyramid")

Ziva had left to pick Ray up from his hotel room, so E.J.'s surprised when Ray arrives at NCIS without her.

"Where's Ziva?" she asks Ray casually, and Tony looks up from his desk with the keen expression of a hunting dog that's just caught the scent of its prey.

"I assumed she would be here," Ray replies, letting his duffel fall to the ground with a soft thump.

"You must have just missed her," E.J. says with a shrug. "She went to pick you up from your hotel."

"I came here straight from the airport," Ray says, a small frown creasing his face.

Tony is already on his cell.

"C'mon…" he mutters into the phone before shutting it with a snap. He then dials a number from the office phone, his face grim. "Pick up, Ziva."

A minute later, he slams the phone back into its cradle. "She's not answering," he says tightly.

"Maybe her cell battery died," E.J. says reasonably.

"No," Tony says, dialing a new number on the phone. "Rule #3: Never be unreachable. If we can't contact her, it's because something's gone wrong." He pauses, then starts speaking rapidly into the phone. "Boss, it's me. We have a problem. Kort got a twenty on Cruz, so Ziva went to find him. Except Cruz just got – OK, yeah. We need you at the office."

Frowning, Tony hangs up the phone.

"Well?" E.J. asks.

"He's on his way," Tony replies, lips tightly compressed.

-–- -–- -–-

By the time they reach the hotel room, Tony is no calmer.

"What do you mean the security camera's not working?" he snaps at McGee.

"I told you, Tony," McGee says patiently, "the system's down all over the hotel, it has been for days."

"Isn't that illegal?" Tony half-growls.

E.J. can't remember a time she's ever seen him this short-tempered.

"Same M.O.," Gibbs states, scanning the apartment. "No fingerprints; the place has been wiped clean."

"How could she just walk out of here and nobody notices," Tony mutters to himself, roughly handling a nearby bag.

E.J. murmurs reprovingly, "Tony…"

"Sorry," he says quietly, but with no less intensity.

"We're all worried about Ziva," she continues soothingly.

"I know," Tony says tightly. "It's just different for some of us."

What? How is it different? And for who?

She vaguely remembers whispered rumors about the time that Ziva had been presumed dead in a shipwreck…

But then there's a knock at the door, and E.J. forgets all about her suspicions upon seeing the man standing there.

Cobb.

VIV. Sleeping Arrangements ("Housekeeping")

E.J. exits the safe house's bathroom in time to hear Ziva ask Tony, "Why are you drooling?"

It's an interesting comment and Tony's reaction to it is even more interesting, but the most interesting thing to E.J. at the moment is in Ziva's hands.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asks eagerly.

"Coffee and muffins with jam," Ziva confirms, and E.J. thinks she's never seen anything so heavenly.

As she takes a sip of reviving caffeine, she comments with catty sweetness, "You know, Ziva, everything that Tony told me about you when we first met? Absolutely not true."

OK, so she still doesn't really like the woman. Respect her, sure; understand her, maybe. Like? Not so much. Besides, the opportunity to watch Tony squirm is just too irresistible.

As predicted, his sputtering reaction is amusing, as is his response to Ziva's query about the previous night.

The way he keeps emphasizing that they slept separately is enough to set her Romance Radar off. Still, she supposes he could just be afraid that Ziva'll report back to a disapproving Gibbs.

(She kinda doubts it though.)

X. Confirmation ("Housekeeping")

As he assembles his weapon, Tony says, "You know, one of these days, I'd like to actually meet someone who appreciates movies the way I do. Or at least appreciates the way I appreciate them."

"She does, Tony," E.J. tells him, remembering the soft look in the Israeli's eyes when mentioning her partner's love of films.

"Who?" Tony asks.

"Ziva."

Tony chuckles uncomfortably and replies, "Agent Ziva David believes that The Pirates of the Caribbean is a cinema classic."

"I'm not talking about movies, Tony, I'm talking about you," E.J. elaborates. "She cares."

"What's the matter with you?" Tony asks a tad belligerently. "We're… we're co-workers."

And that's when she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. If the two of them were just friends and co-workers, he wouldn't automatically assume that E.J. had meant that Ziva cared about him romantically.

"Yeah," E.J. says, amused.

"Teammates," he emphasizes.

"Uh-huh."

"We have each other's backs," he concludes dismissively.

"Exactly," E.J. says triumphantly, giving him a significant look.

You trust each other, Tony. How is this a bad thing?

"Huh," Tony snorts, clearly turning the idea over in his head.

"Surround yourself with people you would give your own life for," he murmurs, focusing on the gun in front of him.

It sounds like a quote from something. Maybe one of Gibbs' precious rules?

She smiles.

-–- -–- -–- -–- -–-

In the end, a clear picture emerges from the assembled puzzle pieces; a picture so clear that only the most willfully blind could ignore it. E.J. may be many things, but she isn't willfully blind.

Nor is she ungrateful.

Tony and Ziva are good people who have helped her. She doesn't know if her words to Tony fully repay her debt to the pair, but they're a start.

There's obviously something between the two agents. And for all that they're such different people, their personalities and life goals seem peculiarly complementary. They could work.

Perhaps the clues aren't the puzzle pieces, after all. Perhaps… perhaps Tony and Ziva are the pieces, albeit from two separate puzzles. Pieces that shouldn't fit together, but do anyway.

No, E.J. isn't willfully blind. And hopefully after her words, Tony won't be either.