Alright, so I know I still have that Ziva pregnancy story to continue on and finish, but this little plot bunny invaded my thoughts and I had to put it down.

This doesn't really have a specific time, per se. It's probably set around this summer, after season nine as I feel like I should add twists concerning Ray and EJ sometime later in the story. But all I know right now is Jenny's dead, Michael's dead, Ziva's back from Somalia, and things are normal again.

Let me know what you think, if it's a good prospective story line, if I should continue, etc. I'll keep writing No Greater Joy as well as this fic, so don't worry. Just let me know what you think?

I picked up the bottle of bourbon and poured another three fingers into the glass. The man picked it up, tipping it gratefully in my direction before knocking back half of it. He'd come into the bar around ten thirty, waited out the crowds consuming only beer and peanuts; but around twelve thirty when people had cleared out either to hit the clubs or they had found someone to go home with, he started on the heavy stuff. First it was Jack Daniels and then had some of everything; from Johnny Walker Red to Greygoose vodka shots, tequila with lime and salt shots and then finally settled on bourbon. To say I was impressed with this guy's ability to hold his alcohol was an understatement; but nevertheless I watched as he steadily slipped further and further out of reality.

I checked the time and was about to announce last call when the front doors slammed open angrily, sending a chill over the last remaining folks as a woman burst in. I was going to tell her that it was last call and unless she just wanted a quick drink there was nothing I could do for her, but the expression on her face stopped me cold. She held the look of an assassin who'd just locked target on her prey and her chest heaved as she inhaled and exhaled. I'd have hated to be on the receiving end of that glare and I followed her gaze to the man with the bourbon.

"Special Agent Anthony Derek DiNozzo, Jr.," she growled menacingly, and I was sure if her eyes could've burned holes into the back of his head he'd have erupted into flames.

The sandy haired man knocked back the last gulp of his drink before whirling around to face the newcomer. "Ziva!" he exclaimed happily, completely oblivious to her anger as he pushed himself off the barstool and stumbled over to her side.

"We have been looking for you for nearly two hours, we have a case!" she hissed, helping him back to the bar and pushing him in a stool. I could see the disgust on her face as his breath reached her nostrils and she pulled out her cell phone. "I've found him," she said shortly, then glanced back at the man whose name was apparently Anthony, "I do not think it is a good idea for him to come into work…his blood alcohol level is probably a hundred times over the legal limit, Gibbs…yes, alright…I will watch him…yes, okay, call McGee…he will call Abby." She snapped the phone shut and looked back at him. "Why, in God's name, did you not answer your phone?" she demanded, trying to get a coherent sentence out of him.

The guy looked at his lap before looking up at her with intense eyes. "Left it in the car….needed…to get wasted…" he stuttered, trying unsuccessfully to make her understand.

"Why? Tony, I know that the last case was hard but…" she trailed off, her voice considerably softer as she saw the vulnerability in her friend's face.

He looked back at me and motioned for another drink. I reached for the bottle but the woman held up her hand. "No more alcohol, do you have any coffee perhaps?" she asked, her chocolate eyes resting on me. She was quite exotically beautiful when she didn't look so pissed off.

"This is a bar, ma'am, not a coffee house," I scoffed, wiping the bar off.

"I smelled the coffee when I came in; I was asking out of courtesy. What kind is it?" she closed her eyes and sniffed the air, "Sumatra blend from the little coffee shop on J Street…and I think a hint of vanilla. It is in the back, yes?"

I stared at her with eyes wide. How the hell could she do that? "Do not worry, I will pay whatever it is you want for it," she pushed, so I turned to go pour a cup for the guy.

The bartender stared in wide eyed wonder at me as he turned to go get Tony some coffee. Once he was gone I looked back at my partner. "What's wrong, Tony?" I asked softly but insistently, placing my hand on his knee and leaning towards him.

But his eyes instantly closed off and I felt him distancing himself, withdrawing into his inner shell. "Nothing," he answered emotionlessly, taking the cup of coffee that was set in front of him. I didn't push; watching as he slowly sobered up some and drank down Gibbs' beverage of choice. When he was done he set the mug on the counter and reached for his pocket, pulling out several bills to lie beside it. I wondered how long he'd been there. "Tell Gibbs I'll be late tomorrow," he said as he stood up, walking towards the door.

"Tony," I called, catching up to him outside and grabbing his arm to stop him, "I cannot let you get behind the wheel of a car. I promised Gibbs I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"Bill already called me a cab," he stated, scrunching his eyes shut at what I guessed to be the start of a pounding headache, "You should be off with CI-Ray anyway, I assume that's why he called - to tell you he's back." His voice was cold and cynical and sounded absolutely nothing like himself. A cab pulled up to the curb and he opened the door. "Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine," he told me, but wouldn't meet my eyes.

Before I could say anything, though, he shut the door and the driver took off in the direction of his apartment. I stood there in the shivering cold, shaking like a Chihuahua caught in a hurricane for a few moments before I remembered that Tony left his cell in his car; the same cell that he didn't get before he left. I trudged over to the small parking lot, searching for his car as the snow started to fall. I picked the lock quickly and got out anything I thought he'd want: cell phone, badge, backpack; then nearly sprinted to my own car, quickly turning on the heater and the heated seats.

The streets were dead due to the late - or early, depending on your perspective - hour and I made it to his apartment in fifteen minutes. I made the journey up the seven flights of stairs to his apartment, wondering what was taking so long for the maintenance people to fix the elevator. I stood in front of his door for a moment before knocking. I heard a soft thud and then the muted sounds of sock-covered footsteps coming to the door; a pause and then it swung open to reveal Tony's emotionless face. He was only wearing sweat pants and I took a moment to notice that he must have been working out lately judging by his suddenly muscular arms and the start of a very nice six pack.

"I told you, I'm fine," he repeated his earlier words, staring me in the face.

"I just uhm…can I come in?" I asked, my voice small as I avoided eye contact. He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yea, sorry, come on in," he muttered, stepping out of the way and pulling the door open further.

I stepped into the entryway and remembered the things in my hands. "Oh, here, you said you'd left your cell in your car and I thought you'd, uhm, want it. I grabbed a few other things you might want, too…" I explained, holding them out for him awkwardly.

His face softened slightly as he took his things from me. "Thanks, Zee," he said genuinely, meeting my eyes for the first time.

"Sure," I paused and then followed him as he went into the living room, setting his things down in the armchair that no one ever sat in, "So uhm, I thought you should know, after you made the assumption earlier…Ray is not coming back. He called to tell me that he was offered the assistant director position at their office in London and asked if I would move there with him. I told him…no." I let out a breath and averted my eyes, then after the long silence, "Well, that was all, goodnight…" I turned to head for the door but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Ziva, wait, I…I'm sorry…" he trailed off, looking me in the eye before his expression changed abruptly and he released my arm.

I didn't understand what was wrong until his hand clamped over his mouth and he bolted for the bathroom. I sprinted after him as he made it just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. I pulled a clean washcloth out of the cabinet and ran it under the cold tap before wringing all the excess water out of it. I kneeled beside him as he finished and slumped onto the floor against the side of the shower. I put his head on my lap and ran the cold cloth over his face, relieving the clamminess that would surely take root. We sat like that for a few moments before he pushed himself into a semi-sitting position.

"I came straight home when we got off and there was a message on my machine…from a big shot lawyer in Ohio…" he let out a halfhearted laugh, "So I called them back, like they asked. There was a woman who was single and had no family; an orphan, essentially. Her parents were both only children, so no aunts or uncles or cousins, and all of her grandparents are deceased. Do you remember that car accident a few weeks ago? The one that killed a woman instantly; big news, on front pages across the country?" He switched subjects quickly and I didn't see the connection but nodded anyways so he would continue. "Well, that was her and she had a three month old baby boy who she was on the way to pick up from daycare. They just got around to reading her will, hoping she left instructions on what she wanted them to do with her son. The will stated that she wanted him left with hid biological father. She'd undergone artificial insemination…so when they traced back the sperm donation to the bank and ran a paternity test…"

I inhaled sharply, covering my mouth with my hand. "Do not tell me…" I whispered, eyes wide and completely shocked. But he nodded, holding his head in his hands.

"Yea…he's mine," he breathed out quietly, "I don't know what to do…I can't let that little boy be put into foster care…but, I can't take care of a baby…" He looked up at me, eyes wide and questioning, desperate for someone to tell him what he should do.

I took a moment to think things over, turning them around in my head while I weighed the options. "I suppose it would not hurt to go to Ohio…at least see the child," I decided, "You might find you like him…"

"I…I don't think I can go by myself…" his eyes turned pleading.

"No, Tony, do not even think about it," I warned, leaning away from him with guarded eyes.

"Ziva, please, I need you," he whispered, and I saw all his walls fall. Behind them was this scared, lonely, little boy who had no idea what was going on; lost, abandoned, uncertain. The utterly raw emotion in his eyes broke me and I relented. I knew how hard it had been for him to let down those walls and admit his dependence.

"Alright…I will go with you to Ohio…" I whispered back, and he pulled me close, resting his head against my shoulder once more.

"Thank you," he breathed, and I circled him in my arms.

I had no idea what the hell I was getting myself into. But I did know that if Tony decided to bring back this little boy he would definitely need help…and a much bigger apartment.

Please please review? Pretty please?