Ok, so this is what I think might happen when Michael shows up from Israel.
Disclaimer: I know, you know, we ALL know that I don't own NCIS or any of it's characters.
"Why are you even seeing this Michael guy?" Tony asked, as he watched her get ready to go home.
"For a more mature reason than you could comprehend, Tony," Ziva laughed at him, as she picked up her bag.
He leaned further forward onto his desk. "But seriously, why?" He looked sincere, but Ziva could never tell with Tony, and it was easier to joke than tell him the real reason.
"Well, one of the reasons could be because he does not try to know everything about my life." She smiled at him, but he still looked troubled. She decided to toss him a bone. "And, that he loves me." This seemed to increase his worry, but she wasn't going to bother asking why. He would just make a joke of it. "Goodnight, Tony," she said as she left the bullpen, and walked towards the elevators.
"I love you, Ziva," Tony shouted after her. She stopped. "I love you," he said again, quieter this time.
At first she was shocked, but then a feeling of anger engulfed her. She turned and walked, angrily, back to where he was now standing, in the middle of the bullpen. How dare he say that? How dare he say that to her now? She couldn't let him do him this to her. She wasn't going to let him do this.
"You know what, Tony? I loved you too," she snapped. "I loved you for three years! And I watched as you chased girl after girl until one finally broke your heart." She knew this would hit him hard. Jeanne wasn't just another girl to him, but she wasn't going to start feeling sorry for him now.
"After her, I thought you might notice me, but yet again you did not even see that I was there." Tony looked down at her. Tears were streaming down her face. He knew he should say something, but what? In any case, she had started talking again before he could open his mouth. "When we lost Jenny, and Vance split us all up, I thought it could be my chance to get over you." She paused. "Michael loves me, Tony. And I can't keep on loving you, knowing that you'll never love me back."
"But I do love you! I just said that!"
"Well you are too late! It is too small, too late." She turned to leave.
"Little," he whispered.
"What?" she asked exasperatedly.
"It's 'too little, too late,'" he corrected her, looking sheepishly down at his feet.
She sighed, and left. She wasn't looking at him as the elevator doors closed.
Stupid man, he told himself. Stupid man.