The reason

Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun.

A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence and language.

I would like to thank my wonderful beta Rinne for correcting my mistakes and providing valuable comments that greatly improve the story

Chapter one

'It really has no business being this cold,' thought Ziva to herself. 'It's almost Passover. Haven't they heard of spring?"

It was 6:58 in the morning and she was about to be late. Her car had failed to start again, which wasn't a big surprise, considering past experiences. What came as a bigger surprise was that once she managed to jump-start the car and drive it for a couple of miles the engine made a series of unnatural sounds, started smoking and then died.

'At least that proves the damn thing has an engine,' she thought to herself. Ziva had inherited her car from a friend that worked in the Israeli embassy in Washington. She had left for Israel a couple of weeks after Ziva arrived. She gave Ziva the car for free, and, as she was handing her the keys, warned her that you get what you pay for. She wasn't kidding.

Ziva pushed the car off the road and into a vacant parking space. She then called Tony who agreed to pick her up on his way to work. If he didn't arrive soon Gibbs was going to smack them both silly. As she was waiting, Ziva watched the people around her. People-watching wasn't just a hobby, it was something she was well trained at. She took pride in her ability to read between the lines and into the lives of the people she was watching.

She could tell that the man buying a paper from the vendor across the street was newly retired and unsure as to what he should do with his spare time. The obese young woman, who was waiting by the same curb as Ziva, was clearly in love. She looked over these people and others quickly, until her gaze fell on a young, apparently nervous, woman that was standing across the street from her. The woman appeared to be waiting for someone to come out of a nearby building. She fidgeted constantly and was holding tightly onto her purse. She appeared to be high on something. Ziva looked at her for a while and then moved her gaze onto a homeless woman that was crossing the street, pushing a shopping trolley and talking loudly to herself. A few minutes had passed and Tony had still not arrived. Ziva tried to decide whether he had met some hot girl on his way to his car or whether he was caught in traffic. A car pulled over and a young, extremely skinny man came out. He approached the obese young woman and they kissed passionately. He then opened the car door for her, got into the car himself and drove away. Ziva congratulated herself for diagnosing the woman's emotional state correctly.

Gradually, the entire population of the street changed. People kept coming and going. Only Ziva and the nervous woman remained. After another 10 minutes had passed, Ziva decided to try and call Tony's cell phone. As she was looking for her phone, she heard loud shouts coming from across the street, followed by a single gun shot.

"You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" she heard a female voice shouting, followed by a male voice that was begging for the woman to get away from him. A bus was blocking Ziva's view. She drew her gun and ran across the road. When she arrived, she saw that the nervous woman was standing over a man who was lying on the ground. He seemed to have been shot in the leg. The woman didn't look quite as nervous anymore. In fact she seemed furious. She was holding a gun and pointing it at the man.

"Federal agent, drop the gun!" Ziva commanded in a strong and even voice.

The woman turned towards Ziva. She looked surprised to see her there. "You don't understand," she said. "He deserves it."

"Why don't you drop the gun and we can talk about it," suggested Ziva, edging herself closer to the woman.

"I can't do that," said the woman, who now appeared to be quite calm. "I'm sorry." She turned towards the man and pointed her gun at him.

"No! Please! Shoot her! She's going to kill me!" cried the injured man.

Ziva was close enough. She kicked the gun out of the woman's hand and threw her down to the ground. Within seconds, the woman found herself handcuffed and unable to move.

"I see you kept yourself occupied," Tony said, coming up from behind her as she was lifting the woman, who was sobbing quietly, up from the ground. "I called an ambulance, and it sounds like the cops are on the way."

As her adrenaline rush subsided Ziva could indeed hear the sounds of approaching sirens.

They were definitely going to be late for work.

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"Yes, McGee, tell Gibbs we might be a while longer. The PD is questioning Ziva," Tony said, speaking on his cell phone. "Yeah, can you believe she didn't kill anyone? I'll go and make sure she plays nicely with the local cops."

Tony closed his phone and approached Ziva, who was standing next to a police car talking to a uniformed police officer. She seemed, to Tony, to be close to boiling point. The woman Ziva apprehended was sitting inside the police car, rocking back and forth, and crying softly to herself. The injured man had been taken to the closest emergency room.

"Probably was just looking for her next fix," the cop was saying as Tony approached.

"I'm telling you it didn't appear random," said an increasingly irritated Ziva.

"She's clearly a junkie, Ma'am," said the cop, looking extremely bored.

Tony flinched. He knew from past experience that calling Ziva 'Ma'am' was not a very good idea. Seeing how she already seemed annoyed at not getting her message through to the cop, Tony decided to put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Officer…" Ziva shook Tony's hand off of her shoulder and looked down at the officer's name badge, "Polanski, I'm telling you the woman was screaming that the man was a son of a bitch and that she was going to kill him. This was not some random mugging. He was her specific target!"

"I think we have everything we need here, Ma'am. We know how to handle junkies," said Officer Polanski.

Tony could tell that Ziva was about ready to punch the cop in the face and decided to intervene. He smiled at the officer and started dragging Ziva away.

"Wait a second," Ziva said, and headed back towards the police car. She opened the back door of the car and leaned towards the woman.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked the woman.

The woman looked up at Ziva. "He's going to do it again. He's going to hurt her. You should have let me finish it," she said and started rocking back and forth again.

"Ma'am, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Officer Polanski approached the car. "Get the hell away from her!"

Ziva was about to confront him but Tony intervened again. "Sorry Officer, we'll be leaving now." He tugged on Ziva's sleeve and guided her to his car.

As soon as they were in the car, Ziva turned towards Tony. "Why the hell did you drag me out of there? Can't you see the guy was a complete moron?"

"Look, confronting him and making the local cops angry wouldn't have done any good. This is not our case. There were no marines or sailors involved. You should really learn to let things go," Tony said.

"That woman did not attack that man in order to get a fix, Tony!" said Ziva. "I came this close to killing her! I'd like to bloody know why!"

"You didn't kill her Ziva," Tony reasoned. "In fact, you saved a life. If you want, you can call later and find out who the detective assigned to the case is. Talk to him. He might be more intelligent than that Polanski idiot."

Ziva could see that Tony was right. There was really no point in getting into a fight with the patrol officer, but, like it or not, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that she had let someone down. She couldn't forget how calm the woman seemed just before she took her down, or how she had said that she was sorry. Ziva also wondered who the shooter thought the man was going to hurt. Maybe Gibbs was rubbing of on her, but her gut told her that the shooter was genuinely trying to stop someone from getting hurt.

TBC