Inspired by: "21 Guns" by American Idiot Original Broadway Cast

Episode: Swan Song

In the elevator, alone (again), the pain she felt over and over again rested on her shoulders and crawled along her spine-unwanted and not needed. She was Mossad, she was a killer. For a young agent, it took much more than time, it took a part of herself with it. Every strike, every case, wore her down. Tony chased after her after their boss wordlessly communicated him to.

"I don't think I can take anymore" She meant it, God knows she meant it.

Grasp for her, any shred of her person that is left, she needs to feel you. The agent reached for his partner, this woman whose emotions are ripping at the seams. He noticed her eyes, tired eyes with a million reasons to give up…but relentless instead.

Tony took her home that night, unfallen tears she held onto finally fell when he shifted into park outside her apartment building.

"Thank you for driving me home." She rubbed her face, possibly trying to wipe off embarrassment along with remnants of stress.

He sat with persistence, glancing over at her. "Didn't want you to drive yourself…especially tonight."

"Especially tonight." She repeated, unbuckling the seatbelt. Loneliness will kill you. Ask him... "Hey… you want to come up for a drink?"

What could be the harm? She's a co-worker, a friend, and a partner through it all. She's a wreck but she couldn't possibly get worse than what was waiting for him. "Sure, boss doesn't expect us back tonight." He turned the car off, following her up to her flat.

They poured another drink to catch up with the rain. The storm outside seamed to accommodate the depth of the situation.

"You need to slow down, Ziva. We're still on call." He reached for the bottle Ziva attempted to pour out but her hands shook too much.

"I'm suffocating myself in this," She wasn't talking about the alcohol. He saw her getting angry at herself. Holding up the bottle, maybe an eighth remained, "Now, this, this bottle, just digs a grave deeper. Hm?" She didn't wait for an answer. "But at least if I die..." She pauses looking to a blank, empty part of the room, "I will be drunk enough to feel no pain."

"Alcohol, cigarettes, Cher tapes…you will still feel what you're drinking to get rid of."

Ziva huffs, "Speaking from experience, Tony?" She rolls her eyes then settles her head in her hands.

"The tapes? No. The alcohol? Yes." He touches her wrist, "You and I are similar in that respect… except now I know drinking your sorrows away helps no one."

Ziva laughs at his seriousness. "Hm, you know, you are right." Unfortunately he is right. She straightens herself. "Alright, fine, what do you suggest?"

He leans back in the chair, looks up briefly, shrugs, "Shoot it out", Ziva lifts her head, and a confusion is written across her face. "You heard me." He quickly gets up from the little table, puts on his coat, and looks at Ziva. "Let's go, come on."

What the hell is he thinking? "Uh, Tony, are you serious?" Noticing a nod from the man, she gets up slowly, urging suspicion.

She grabs her coat, gun, and keys, they look at each other, and out the door they were gone.

"Tony weren't you supposed to take that exit?"

"Nope. Not going to the range."

"Then where-"

He interrupted her "You'll see."

It just turned midnight when they pulled up to a gated road. Ziva had never been to this part of Virginia before, but the journey there seemed simple enough. An exit, one road to another, to a farm road, then to a woodsy area looking like in the middle of nowhere. A perfect place for a murder. A willing participant liker herself.

He led her through the brush, around large rocks, and trees. Suddenly she saw the white moon glow dancing on water. A lake? He took me to a lake?

Hopefully she appreciates this. "Used to come here my first year as an agent, when I needed to escape." He searched for Ziva's face in the low light, he saw a small smile. "It's not the range, but no one is around here for miles."

She walks closer to the water's edge. There was wind in the air that night, chilly but comfortable. Her long hair blew in the wind summoning him to stand beside her. She let out a soft "thank you, Tony."

"No problem." He then asked, "You want to let out a few rounds?"

"Not necessary anymore…"

A tide scattered the light once again. A moment passes.

"It is very peaceful here. Silent." She closed her eyes, letting the wind and occasional sound of a wilderness creature ease her thoughts.

Tony wanted to say something, "Well, I was worried about you."

She breathed slowly, "There is no need to worry about me."

He huffed, "But I do." He turned away, Ziva opened her eyes then Tony finishes, " all of the time."

"What do you mean?"

He kicks a rock, "I want you to be at peace, be happy… and..." He pauses, "we're partners. It's hard to forget what we…tried."

She understood what he was referring to. The times they were more than friends but less than lovers; clearly undefined. "We cannot-"She stopped her sentence…she didn't believe herself or the rules that restricted them. We all can die right now, anytime, and you would be with him. My God… "Come here."

Tony turned around and walked to her. "Yeah?" She puts her palms on the sides of his face. "Ziva, what are you-" Her lips silenced him. This is so wrong, we are federal agents, we can't. Oh, but we can, she tastes like perfection.

She breaks away, realizing how real this was, no matter she started it, "I am sorry..." She rubs her arms, calming herself from the sudden heat of their kiss.

"Don't do this…again."

Ignoring his remark, she says, "We should get back. It's late."

Don't let her get away. She does this to push you away. "No!" She swerves around, surprised by his voice. He had her attention, "You make me angry, frustrated, almost on the brink of insanity, senile at times!" She's getting mad at this insulting commentary. "But…you're thoughtful, and take less credit than you deserve, and incredibly beautiful." He halts his steps to observe her behavior.

"We will hurt each other, Tony." She says with pleading eyes, warning him.

"So be it." She wants to say something but closes her mouth to put on a smirk. He walks over to her, inches apart. His face changes from apprehension to contentment; her face does the same. He lightly walks her back towards a neighboring tree, tousles her hair, and leans in to her. She makes up for the distance, three seconds and then their lips touch, as if playing a game of battleship. Both of them taking and giving; it wasn't just time they were taking from each other. She knows.

He knows. They break away for a second, looking at what they were doing, glancing at each other.

They spend an hour there throwing rocks into the water, telling each other secrets, breaking down walls. Tony gets a call from Gibbs, "backs to work." He puts his arm around her and leads her back to the car.