(((Chapter 1)))

Breathing in a deep breath of salty air, Ziva David released a sigh. The shaky, yet gentle release of oxygen would have gone unnoticed by most, yet the young man in the driver's seat beside her smiled a small grin.

"Don't look so gloomy, little sister," he commented, crawling the small, weathered Toyota to a stop beside the pavement, glistening white in the sun. "You have been invited by your lovely friends to, it seems—," he paused, offering a quick glance out the window, "—a palace."

"A seaside palace," Ziva murmured in agreement, her eyes widening as she gazed out the window over her brother's shoulder.

He snuck a small smile at his sister's ongoing stare of wonder and apprehension, before turning his head to examine the mansion in more detail.

"Well, at least the Scuito's have good taste," he said, rolling down his window to counter the glare of the summer sun. "A modern look, slanted and sleek, the white gloss and cherry wood counter the landscaping well… stunning. Double-paned windows and photovoltaic cells on the roof as well," he added. "Completely green."

Ziva nodded, her eyes scanning over the features. A third story balcony, fern trees wallowing over the open windows, a stone path curving around the extensive lawn, she even spotted a small statue of Buddha nestled on the patio. She smiled. Very Zen and also very Abby, she noted inwardly.

"And also very expensive…" he finished.

"Do not judge, Ari," she said, pulling her brows together in an irritated fashion.

"I'm an architect, little sister," he said, neither looking nor sounding apologetic. "It's my job to know these things. And besides… when you go to a school like yours, more than a few people will happen to have a beautiful coastal mansion that costs millions of dollars."

"I do not care what they have or what they do not have," she said testily, glaring out through the windshield. "Money does not make you any more privileged than anyone else."

"Unfortunately, little sister," Ari began, sounding perfectly assure of his words. "The rest of society is accustomed to the contrary."

"Perhaps in your world, Ari," she declared, looking over at her smug half-brother. "But my school does not hold the same virtues as you, luckily."

He chuckled, rolling his eyes, and opened the car door.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ziva."

Her own slam of the car door shut echoed Ari's and they stood together over the trunk of the rusted car, lifting her bags out.

"Your hands are shaking," Ari commented, watching as Ziva grasped the handle of the final bag.

"I am excited," she stated darkly, damning him in her head for his exasperating talent of noticing the tiniest details.

"Then don't act so intimidated," he countered, throwing an arm firmly around her shoulders as they waded the path across the lawn side by side, Ziva herself handling most of the bags.

"I am not intimidated," she replied, gritting her teeth. She clenched her fist more tightly around the handles, trying to halt its tremors. "It is only Abby."

Ari tipped his gold-plated shades upwards, sucking air in through his teeth as his eyes ventured over the house with an envious glint to them. His arm clutched Ziva closer.

"And only with her parents and a few other family members," he added close to her ear, smirking.

Ziva's skin bristled, her heart fluttering for a moment, as Ari strained his deep voice on the word other. They now stood together on the patio, facing the front door.

"Ready?" Ari mouthed soundlessly at her, grinning as he reached for the brass-colored doorknocker.

"The apple does not fall far from the stalk, Ari," she replied, finally mustering the wit to answer his earlier comment. "Abby is a perfectly—"

Her retort was interrupted as the door swung open abruptly. Standing there shirtless, stood a teenage boy, his mouth bulging full as he held a piece of half-eaten fruit in his hand.

"Hello," said Ari, his voice colored richly as he stared at the boy before him. He nudged Ziva discretely in the calf with his foot.

"Oh right," the teen said blandly and stared unabashedly at Ziva. "Forgot you were coming today. One sec."

He turned, leaving the door wide open in front of Ziva and Ari. A few loud yells and moments later, there was a rhythm of anxious feet bounding down the stairs.

"I'm guessing that's the cousin: Tony," said Ari offhandedly, leaning his hand on the coat rack beside the entrance to peer at the furnishings of the house.

"Yes," Ziva answered stormily, glaring at the spot where Tony's silhouette had been only moments before.

"He's a charmer," commented her brother, now peering upwards at the slope of the ceiling. "I can see why you like him so much."

As Ziva turned to hit him, a shriek came bellowing from the stairwell and moments later, the Israeli girl found herself throttled by a fierce hug.

Her dark pigtails bobbing up and down in front of Ziva's face, the girl squeezed her friend tightly, repeatedly squealing, "You're here! You're here! You're here…!"

Ziva smiled fondly, clasping her around the back.

"Yes, Abby, I'm here," she managed to say as the girl continued to grip her tighter and tighter. She began jumping up and down in excitement, still squealing, only to be anchored down by Ziva's still form.

"Fine," she said, pulling away reluctantly with a pout. "Don't jump with me, Ziva…" Soon, though, her grin spread across her face even wider than before and with one last exclamation, Abby embraced her friend again. "I'm so glad you're here, Ziva! We're going to have so much fun," she said, before pulling away and grabbing a completely unsuspecting Ari, into a welcoming hug as well.

Ari smiled, chuckling at Abby's infectious excitement and patted her head as she pulled away.

"Nice to see you again, too, Abby," he said. "Well, I probably should be getting back and leave you two to wreaking havoc on this lovely house."

As Abby pulled Ziva inside the entrance with her, she locked arms with the Israeli.

"Thank you, Ari," said Abby sincerely. "You're such a sweetheart for bringing Ziva down here—"

"Oh, he's really not," interjected Ziva.

"Don't worry, Abby," Ari replied, a half-playful tension buzzing between he and his sister. He eyed Ziva, his lips curving into his trademark smirk. "It is really not too far from the city."

He leaned forward, kissing his sister's forehead before she could escape.

"Be good, little sister," he winked, pulling back. "You know, I'm always watching."

"Bye Ari!" Abby called as the young Israeli man sauntered back to his car. "Nice to see you again!"

As Ari leaned down, barely fitting his sinewy form into the small confines of the car, he flashed Ziva one last conceited grin, his sunglasses concealing the sparkle of his dark lashes. For a moment, as Ziva watched her brother, she was reminded of the way Tony smirked at her across the English round table during seminars after he thought he had won one of their disagreements.

((((()))))

Saturdays at the market were always the busiest day of the week. Tenants moving in and out of their rentals always caused a flurry of traffic. Some stopped by the market to savor a few last minute souvenirs for the car ride home, and others came to gather ingredients for their first homemade dinner of the summer on the island. It was a day of commotion all through the streets. And located conveniently in the center of town, funneling all the tourism and activity straight to its net, was the market.

Though the weather was not particularly friendly to the well being of fresh fruits and vegetables, this Saturday had been particularly busy nonetheless. Locals woke early and still ventured to the stands in the early sunlight to graze over the top pick of the day, while latecomers were treated to the already grazed assortment of merchandise that had sat roasting in the afternoon sun.

"Excuse me, could you tell me what your prices for these peaches here are? The writing on the sign seems to have smudged."

Sitting up slowly in his chair, the merchant tipped his baseball cap from his eyes, his dozing interrupted by a clear, bell-like voice. A sleek, pretty woman with short red head was smiling expectantly in front of him. Well, perhaps he did have time to treat another customer…

"That'd be four dollars a bushel," the merchant replied with a toothy grin. The woman's lips tightened, forcing her smile to linger politely at the sight of his yellowing, chipped teeth. "How many would you like?"

"Oh, I haven't decided yet what exactly I'd like to buy. I'm trying to instill better eating habits on my nephew, but he's a stickler as to what he likes..." she paused, looking over her shoulder. "Jethro, what exactly do you think Tony would like as far as fruit? …Jethro?"

The merchant frowned. He peered sourly over the top of his stand to see a tall, handsome grey-haired man who had been wandering discretely through the stalls, look over at his lovely customer. This so-called Jethro raised his brows and gave a peculiar nod.

"Excuse me," the woman hedged. "I'll be right back."

Swiftly, she deserted the merchant's stand and approached the NCIS agent.

"What're you doing?" she demanded. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some food for Tony."

"No time, Jen," replied Jethro, heading hastily towards the corner of the block. Ignoring the red head's bewilderment, he swiped a newspaper from an unattended stand. "He'll be turning the corner any moment."

"Jethro…" Jenny began slowly. "What exactly are you going to do?"

"Ari's going to stop by the market for a little chat with me."

Jenny's frown deepened. Why did his each and every answer have to untie a whole other bundle of her questions?

"And what do you plan on saying to the man? You don't even know him."

Jethro smiled ambiguously, pulling a small pinch of a device from his pocket. He held it in front of Jenny's glowering eyes.

"This is a little present that needs to be delivered to Ari's girlfriend."

Jenny rolled her eyes and growled, "And what a perfect opportunity to deliver it to her…"

"See, I knew you were getting better at this, Jen. Now… if you'll just excuse me for a moment. Stay here."

Jethro batted Jenny's smaller form to the side, opened the newspaper, and deserted his companion, slipping flawlessly into the crowd.

"Jethro," Jenny hissed as she lost sight of him. But it was already too late. Agent Gibbs was not found unless he wanted to be. "Then why do you always follow him anyways?!" she responded under her breath to her own realization with yet another question.

It was only until she broke through the crowd and saw Jethro that she began to run.

"Jethro!"

He was at the corner of the sidewalk, appearing relaxed and harmless with the newspaper held up to his face. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed anything wrong. It was normal for a Long Islander to read up on the latest Giant's preseason news. But she knew better. It had been 3 years she had been stuck living with the man for God's sake. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a die-hard Redskins fan. He wouldn't be caught dead reading a pro-Giant's page.

It was then she realized what her "husband" was going to do.

"Jethro, you really shouldn't do this," her voice escalated in warning. "Agent G—"

But she didn't reach him in time. Sure enough, here it came, just as Jethro said it would. Seconds before the smell of burnt rubber permeated the air and screeching tires screamed in her ears, she caught a glimpse of a little rusty Toyota, hurtling down the street. As she screamed at Jethro, it was already too late. He had already stepped out into the street, seemingly an oblivious pedestrian, right into the car's path.

If she hadn't been playing this game with him for the past three years, she would have feared for his safety. This time, Jenny just shook her head, palming her forehead as she heard a car door slam shut.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Stupid, old man… Bastard, you completely busted my tires!"

Besides the fuming driver, the customers from the market were all watching in disbelief. Some stared agog, their mouths hanging open. Others gasped in fear for the safety of the man who had just almost had his life taken. The red-haired woman, however, crossed her arms, watching intently as Jethro discretely removed his hand from the tire socket, relaxed his crouch, and stood. Even after almost being killed, the NCIS agent's nerve was not rattled in the least bit.

"Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention at all. I know I shouldn't have crossed," Jethro offered a small smile, raising his hands in apology. "Call it a senior moment."

"You just cost me a shit load of money, you old fool. Watch where you're going next time."

As the young Israeli glared him down, Jethro straightened, letting his hands fall to his sides. Lost completely was his quirky charm.

"I wouldn't worry about it," replied Jethro, his blue eyes suddenly leering. "Pawn those Armani sunglasses and they should cover your fees quite sufficiently."

After a moment, Ari Haswari slid the sunglasses from his face, chuckling slightly. Meeting the ex-marine's eyes, his smirk disappeared as quickly as it had come and slowly, he approached Jethro.

"If we were in my country, old man," whispered Ari, his breath laced with smoke. Malice churned in his charcoal eyes. "You wouldn't still be breathing."

"Then, I'm sure glad we live in America," replied Jethro coolly.

The tension simmered a few moments more, and then settled. Ari gathered his lips into one last smirk and let a breath of his laughter graze the NCIS agent's face. Holding Jethro's gaze, the Israeli backed towards his car, his face a façade of satisfaction. The grey-haired man took one step aside, watching Ari's smile broaden as readjusted his glasses and gunned his car forward, jetting away down the street. Ask anyone who had witnessed the events in the market that afternoon, Ari Haswari was one departure from the island that wouldn't be missed.

Watching the smoke from Ari's throttle drift away, Jethro turned. As he made his way off the street, he ignored the stares he received from the crowd. Absolutely no one had the courage to confront him anyway. Not even a round of applause in appreciation, he mused inwardly. But for all the fear Jethro aroused in the average person, Ari Haswari was different. He was certainly a worthy opponent.

"I'm guessing you placed the camera without difficulty," stated the red head as Jethro joined her.

"Yup."

"And he's actually Ziva's half-brother…"

"Yup."

"I wouldn't believe it if you hadn't told me…"

Jethro faced her, tucking his arm around hers.

"They have the same eyes, Jen," he said grimly.

"Ziva is nothing like him," Jenny retorted firmly.

"Oh my darling wife," Jethro murmured, his eyes glancing appreciatively at the beautiful blue sky. "You do trust too easily, I believe."

Jen snorted as he playfully tugged her closer.

"You never cease to point out my faults, Agent Gibbs," she agreed, her hazel eyes dancing mischievously. "Do tell me though, how in the world did you figure out that Ari's sunglasses were Armani?"

"Lucky guess," said Gibbs, his tone impeccable.

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"You, my dear husband, have been spending way too much time around Tony."

((((()))))

"You're parents are not home as of now, I see."

Brushing the silk curtains aside with her fingertips, Ziva peered out into the backyard of the house. From her bedroom, she certainly had a grand view of things. Lush green grass surrounded a pearl-tiled pool, boarded by ash tiling and a scatter of arching willow trees, their fibers dipping slightly into the water. Before pulling away and letting the curtains fall, she even spied a small Jacuzzi tucked into the corner.

"No," said Abby, who had already opened Ziva's trunks and was busy sorting her clothes into the appropriate drawers. "Actually," she appeared from the bathroom with a flourishing smile. "They went to the market—there's a really neat open market on Saturdays, we'll have to take you— to get some food to prepare dinner. They're excited about you coming too, so they wanted to do something special for your arrival."

"Abby, they really shouldn't have. And you—you do not have to put my things away! Abby," Ziva groaned as the pig-tailed girl shushed her protests, "Please, I am only here for two weeks."

"And that doesn't mean you shouldn't feel perfectly at home, Zi," replied Abby. "Everyone's so excited that you're here," she smirked, adding. "Especially Tony."

Ziva snorted, trying and failing to sustain the blush that crept onto her cheeks.

"Don't be silly, Abby," she replied. "If he was truly excited to see me, he would not have answered the door in his boxers."

"Oh, you know, that's just how Tony shows his enthusiasm around girls."

"Our relationship—it is not like that. I will not be like any other girl to Tony, believe me."

Suddenly Abby let out a small gasp, clutching her heart dramatically. She flew towards Ziva and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Oh, Ziva!" she murmured into the Israeli's shoulder, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so glad you finally understand."

"What? What do I—"

"I just want to let you know I think it's a great idea. I'm totally behind you guys. I mean, God, for three years now all I can think about when I see you two together is how cute it would be if you guys finally decided to stop denying what you have and actually give it a try. I mean—"

"Wait, hold on a moment…" Ziva quickly unlatched herself from Abby. She chuckled, smiling to mask her embarrassment. "I think you misunderstand me, Abby. What I mean—what I meant to say—"

Abby rolled her eyes as Ziva struggled to find the appropriate way to express her point. Why did she always make these things so difficult? The pig-tailed girl seated herself on the bed, looking quite the skeptic.

"Look," began Ziva stiffly. "Tony and I… We are just friends. And do not look at me like that, Abby! Since Tony began to refrain from his womanizing, I have tried to get him to open up to me. But each time I have made an attempt, he has just pulled away even further from me," With each word, she just grew more exasperated, her voice wary with regret. "And now, ever since this past winter, he has given me the icy shoulder. You cannot blame me if I am the least bit upset with him when he won't even tell me what I did to make him angry."

As the Israeli's pacing came to a halt beside the window, Abby smiled empathetically. Although she had discovered years ago that Ziva harbored affections for her cousin, she had seen their attraction to each other come full circle these past couple months at school. The tension between them, the words that were still unsaid, muddled every aspect of their interactions. It became so unbearable that they both ceased to function regularly around the other. Tony shrunk away from spending time with the Israeli, clearly in fear of his own feelings. Ziva, bemused and hurt at Tony's discrete yet intentional indifference to her, acted passive aggressive and childish towards him as a release to her frustration.

"Abby… I know I normally do not talk about these things, yet…" Ziva's tone was softer, vulnerable. "Please, give me any advice you can think of. I need to know what I should say, how I should act around Tony. I must stop whatever I am doing that is making him so uncomfortable… I would like these two weeks to be pleasant for everyone."

"Ziva…" Abby stood, giving her friend a gentle hug. She smiled to herself over Ziva's shoulder, "I think—"

The bedroom door clattered open abruptly. Mid-hug, both Abby and Ziva turned to see a young man with honey-colored hair peek around the bend of the entrance.

"Yo," he said. "Uncle G's back. He wants us all down… stairs…"

The words leaked slowly out of Tony's mouth as he saw Abby and Ziva's embrace. His lips trembled, begging his muscles to let them creep into a smirk. His mouth opened and then closed again, the witty comment sinking back down into his throat. He felt the burn of her gaze singe his skin and all the confidence he had mustered seemed to wilt to the ground.

"Oh Ziva…" Abby murmured, as the Israeli deftly locked her ankles around her waist. The entwined couple teetered before pinning themselves against the wall before an apoplectic Tony. "Tony, can't you see that you're interrupting our play time?"

"Yess," purred Ziva, letting her warm breath fan Abby's face. "Let's just ignore him… You do not mind if he observes, no?"

"Of course not. You know I'm always open to visitors."

Ziva smiled, flicking her eyes toward Tony, before she slowly ran her nose along the skin of Abby's neck. She opened her mouth, diving at the supple skin of the goth's collarbone and—

"Stop," Tony commanded, his voice void of humor. He stood tall in the doorframe, his face red and blushing, his hazel eyes determinedly staring straight past the two now snickering girls. "Quit it, alright? Funny time's over."

Ziva resurfaced from her laughter first.

"And here I was Tony, waiting for your 'girl on girl' comment."

Unable to resist the challenge, Tony summoned the strength to look upon her smirking face. God, with each step that she came closer to him, he found it more and more difficult to stop himself from grabbing her and quelling that stupid smirk whatever way he could. He wasn't sure whether his cheeks were stained red from embarrassment or from fury. Somewhere in the depths of his chest, there was a monster roaring at the thought that Ziva could ever embrace anyone else like that…

"Nice to see you again too, Zee-vah," he replied.

"You do know, Tony," she was still smug all over her face. "That this is the second time I have made you go—oh what is the phrase?—beet red. Remember the first time? Freshmen year English class, Romeo and Juliet?"

She briefly touched his shoulder, her dark eyes dancing dangerous and all too alluring.

"No, actually, I don't," he answered, his voice black and crisp.

His response only roused another sweet chuckle from her lips. The monster crooned and whimpered softly.

"Your left eyebrow twitches when you lie," she gave his shoulder an apologetic pat and wondered past him out of the bedroom.

Tony gritted his teeth, letting his eyes circle the room. He listened as Ziva's footsteps faded into the distance before rounding on his cousin.

"That was not funny," he hissed.

"Aww, I'm sorry," Abby answered sincerely. Her face fell slightly at the sight of Tony's stormy features. "You need a hug. Will you let me hug you?"

Before he could speak a reply, Abby threw her arms around his neck, forcing the answer from his mouth in a breathy cough. Tony patted his cousin's back, frowning.

"You're making it very hard for me to accept this hug on good terms, Abby," said Tony, his voice slightly strained from lack of air.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I promise never to let Ziva jump me ever again."

Tony allowed himself a small smile, all the while trying to drive any fleeting remnants of jealously from his mind.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Tony's shoulder, his cousin was grinning slightly as well. Never before had she seen Tony become so flustered, his mood so painfully sour. Usually he did well hiding behind a façade of jokes and charming smiles, but Ziva so easily brought out something more raw and much more sincere. Abby thought back to Ziva's plea for her help just some moments ago, when her friend had asked how she should act around Tony. Really, there was nothing she could do. For Ziva, it didn't take any special ingredient to drive Tony crazy.

She just had to be herself.

((((()))))

a/n: Hey fellow NCIS fans. Thanks so much for taking the time to read the first chapter of this story! =)

I have to admit, I'm a new fan to the show. I've only been watching for about 6 months, but I'm addicted none-the-less. Since watching Aliyah, I've been so frustrated at the idea of having to wait so long for a resolution to the Tony and Ziva conflict. I struggled to conjure up any good post-Aliyah plots, so I drew the conflict back to a setting that's much more familiar to me—high school. Currently, next fall, I'm going to be a sophomore, so all the experiences are fresh in my mind. On the scale of things, I know I'm a rather younger fan of the show, I guess, but I hope that some other teens/fans my age can relate well to this story. So thank you to everyone who is considering following my first venture into the world of NCIS fanfiction. Reviews are love. =)