Disclaimer: I don't own any characters that appear in the TV show. They are owned by Belisarius Productions and CBS. If I did own them, then Jeanne would have gone long ago. If there are any original characters that appear in this particular story, then they are all mine.
A/N: The concept comes from a friend of mine. She thinks that all men are bastards. So this is why it's called that in the title. I'm looking at this from a season 4 perspective, yet I haven't finished seeing season 4 yet. I have had some help with this story thanks to my sister and EmyPink. Both have helped immensely, I am grateful to both. There is some slight McAbby in this one-shot and also slight Tiva. Ziva is drunk. She turns up at McGee's place one night when Abby and McGee are there together.
"McGee!" somebody shouted on the opposite side of the door of Timothy McGee's apartment. McGee's eyes flicked open, annoyance flickering over his face. He climbed out of bed, leaving a figure sound asleep next to him. He walked out of his bedroom, wearing a MIT t-shirt and track pants.
"McGee!" The voice shouted again, louder this time. McGee walked past his computer and kitchen, grateful for the fact that he had left the light on earlier.
He reached the door, unlocked it and swung wide the door. "Listen, you need to keep it quiet out here…" McGee looked angrily at the woman leaning unsteadily against the door frame.
"Ziva!" McGee exclaimed, surprised to see her. Her eyes drooped she swayed on her feet. Ziva was definitely drunk, that was quite certain. McGee collected his thoughts. He reached out and grabbed her arm. "Come in and keep it down." He gently guided Ziva into the small apartment.
Ziva bent in close to his ear, she was almost swimming in alcohol by the way she smelt. "I'm…I'm not interrupting anything?" Ziva asked, a smile of sensual curiosity playing over her face. "I bet…I bet you make a lot more noise… is your hot…hot little vixen about!"
"Really," Abby said, walking out of the bedroom. Abby was dressed in a white shirt, black tank top with a skull and crossbones and a pair of black Sesame Street briefs. Her arms were folded crossed over her chest and was glaring at Ziva. "And why are you drunk, Ziva? Could it be you're angry with someone? Someone whose initials are 'A' and 'D'!" Ziva returned the glare as she sat down on the couch. The room filled with a brooding silence. McGee stepped in between them both.
"Okay, you two," McGee began. He shook his head. I'm starting to sound like Tony! "You need to stop right now!"
"Fine," Abby muttered walking over the computer chair. "She's the drunk! I guess I can cut her some slack."
Ziva continued to glare at Abby. She knew that Abby was right, she was drunk for one reason only. Anthony DiNozzo! She was only this aggressive because she was drunk. "Fine…I'll play nice."
McGee took a deep breath. "Okay, now will you tell me why?" McGee glanced at the clock in the kitchen. "Why you woke us both up at 3:30 in the morning?"
"I'm sorry." Ziva bowed her head, sniffing as the depressive form of alcohol began to take control. "To…to both of you!"
Abby rose from her chair and walked over to Ziva who sat on the lounge chair. She put an arm round Ziva, the bitterness and anger put aside in seconds and she hugged her friend. "It's okay, Ziva. We understand." Abby looked at McGee. "Don't we, Timmy?"
Ziva almost laughed scornfully, but she controlled it. "No Abby, you don't."
"Oh, I think I do," Abby said, taking Ziva's hand in her own.
"No, you have Tim." Ziva looked at McGee who was now sitting in the computer chair. The depressiveness of the alcohol only lasted a few minutes. Ziva's feelings seemed to be raw at the moment, due to the alcohol. "For me at this moment, all men are bastards!"
McGee looked at her, his gaze hardening a little. "You think so, do you?"
"Not you…Not you…McGee," Ziva hiccupped quietly as she realized that she had offended him. "You are far too much the gentleman to fall into any such category."
"Yet you would happily toss Gibbs, Tony, Ducky and Palmer into that category," McGee bristled, anger clear in his voice.
"No…no." Ziva shook her head vigorously. "No…not Ducky and not Jimmy!"
"Oh, Ziva," Abby said, voicing her disappointment.
Ziva shrugged. "Well…Gibbs is…is a bastard. He always has been. That's…that's nothing new." She looked up at McGee and Abby. "You…you know it to be true, yes?"
McGee was looking angrier by the second. Abby was able to conceal it better, but Ziva could see that she wasn't happy with her judgments.
"You're very hard on Tony, Ziva," Abby said softly, her eyes meeting McGee's. Ziva struggled to make out their conversation as they usually did when they were talking silently to one another.
"I haven't…haven't even begun with him." Ziva cursed herself for allowing her true feeling to be shown in front of both of her friends. This would never happen if I were sober. "Why…why are you two defending him anyway? He's hurt…hurt you just as much as he has hurt…me…going out with that French slut!"
"Ziva!" McGee cried, his voice grew louder and his temper frayed even more. "He's doing a job, we understand that. Why can't you!"
"McGee!" Abby said warningly.
"Sorry, Abs," McGee said quietly. "Sorry, Ziva." He mumbled the last words.
"He is a bastard…bastard," Ziva said, ignoring the outburst from McGee. "Tony… Tony plays with girls' hearts and then…then drops them as if they were bouncy…balls."
Abby tried not to laugh at the statement, McGee wasn't going to even try and correct her. Ziva continued, "He's played with…my heart long enough. He tries again, I'll…seriously drop him and maybe break his stupid…stupid neck."
"Ziva!" Abby said, hitting her on the shoulder.
"What…what!" Ziva said in alcoholic defiance. "It's your job to tell him."
"You'll have forgotten by tomorrow morning," McGee said hopefully, his temper no longer causing any problems.
"I'm…I'm tipsy, McGee," Ziva said as she rose and proved it. She swayed unsteadily on her feet and promptly sat back down. "I'm not drunk…drunk and passed…passed out on your lounge floor."
"You love him, Ziva," Abby said, looking at her intently.
Ziva laughed mockingly. "If ever love…love him, Israel will get continued peace…peace in the Middle East."
McGee smiled, something like that wouldn't happen anytime soon. "Well then, you better start getting ready for Mossad to disband. I heard that a peace treaty has been signed and everybody is putting down their weapons."
"You're a bastard…bastard, Tim," Ziva said with a grin on her face. McGee and Abby, you're so right. I do love Tony and I hate him for not telling me how he really feels.
Abby hit her on the shoulder. "You know that we're right, Ziva!"
"As…as if," Ziva said, rising to prove that she still could stand. "I don't love…love, Tony and I never will!" You're such a pathetic liar. You do love him and hope that he loves you too!
"I'll…I'll go now," Ziva said abruptly, "I've taken up enough…enough of your time." Ziva staggered over to the door, despite the protests of McGee and Abby.
"Umm…Ziva, are you sure you're good to go?" Abby asked warily, watching Ziva bump into a hall table.
"Fine, Abby, just dandy," Ziva hiccoughed, fumbling with the door handle. "Nice…nice seeing you, Abby…McGee. Goodnight…morning…morning-night."
Ziva finally managed to grip the door handle and pulled the door open. Stumbling into the hallway, both Abby and McGee looked worriedly at each other.
"She loves him," Abby stated plainly, and McGee nodded his head in agreement. Without saying a word, they both raced to the door and grabbed Ziva before she managed to fall down the stairs.
"I think, Ziva, that you'd better stay here tonight," McGee suggested, guiding Ziva back into his apartment.
A/N: Okay, tell me what you think. (Em, if you have any good ideas would you be able to add something to help me, thanks!)