Work Header


Chapter Text

Ziva is tired of not being allowed to drive. It makes little difference to her, whether she terrifies the residents; in a case like this, they are, after all, driving to a crime scene. It doesn't matter, in a way, what the neighborhood is used to - not in light of what is happening.

But Gibbs seems to think they should arrive at a crime scene without causing an accident on the way there. Perhaps he is right, but the matter annoys her nonetheless.

By the time Tony parks the van at the appropriate house, Ducky and Palmer are already waiting.

"You're here early," Tony says, as he gets out.

Ducky nods. "It seems Admiral Williams is quite impatient to find out what happened to his wife. He's been out twice to ask why we don't just get on with it."

"We are the United States government. We don't do that sort of thing."

Ziva suspects that was a reference to something, but before she can ask, Ducky says, "Correction, Tony. We do now that the full complement is here. If you would be so good as to lead the way?"

The dead Navy wife is in the master bedroom, curled up on her side as though she had had a stomachache in the last moments. It is hardly the most gruesome thing Ziva has seen, but it does strike her as a bit tragic.

Tony makes a face. "We sure this isn't a suicide?"

"You know as well as I do that it's our job to determine that," Ducky says, staying to one side until Tony and Ziva have documented the scene.

After taking photos, Ziva picks up a glass from the bedside table, and eyes the light blue liquid in its bottom. "What is this?"

"Doesn't look like a drink," Tony says. "Not unless she diluted some Windex. Let me see--" He takes the glass, wafts it under his nose, and makes a face. "Definitely not Windex. Aftershave, maybe, or a really strong perfume."

"Which pleads the question of why she would drink it." That much certainly seems to have been the case; Ziva has never heard of anyone storing their perfume in a glass, particularly not one that they keep by their bed as though it held water.

"Abby's going to have fun with it, I'm sure. We'll have to remember to ask people for some of their perfume, when we're doing interviews."

"That you will," Ducky says, as he and Palmer begin to transfer the body. "I suspect there may be more to this case than meets the eye."

Tony snorts. "This is us, Ducky. When isn't there more than meets the eye?"