Square One

My take on what's going to happens in Season 7, episode two or three, after Ziva returns to NCIS. Lots of angst and my thoughts on what's going on in their heads. Please R&R.

"Officer David, with me," NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo said to his longtime NCIS partner, Ziva David. Their personal and work relationship was still frayed after his shooting of her boyfriend, Michael Rivkin, months earlier. Even helping his boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, rescue her from Al-Qaeda terrorists in Somalia had done little to mend their friendship. It was as if the last four years of friendship was lost forever.

The Ziva he wanted back, who he had killed for in Somalia, was gone. The Ziva he worked with now was an ice queen. The playful banter he loved so much was gone. She spoke only when spoken to and only as much as required.

He wasn't entirely sure why she'd chosen to return to NCIS. He knew she was surprised when Director Vance had her assigned back to Gibbs' team. She had made it very clear she didn't trust either him or Gibbs much any more. Yet, Gibbs had accepted her back without question, content to let her work out her issues with him at her own pace. Gibbs was like that where family was concerned.

"What is it, Agent DiNozzo," she asked in a cool tone, glancing over at where Gibbs and McGee stood talking to the crime scene witnesses.

"I've got a blood trail over here. Grab some markers and see if you can see where the trail leads," he instructed her. Their current case involved the murder of a Marine Private First Class and the abduction of his fiancée while on a weekend camping trip.

Ziva looked over at Tony, hoping to find some way out of the request. Seeing none, she walked over to where the team field supply kit lay on the ground. She grabbed a large stack of the plastic yellow markers and plodded over to him. She deliberately bumped into him with her shoulder, forcing him to step aside. She spotted the blood splatter on the ground and placed a marker next to it. She stepped aside for a moment while Tony took several photos. Ziva looked around and spotted another blood stain on the ground. Placing another marker on the ground, she continued to scan for other clues that would lead them to the missing woman. "This way," she said, pointing in a northeasterly direction.

"Ok, lead the way, Officer David," Tony instructed her. Turning back towards where Gibbs and McGee stood, he shouted out "Hey, boss, we're going to follow a blood trail."

"Stay in contact, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered.

"Roger that, boss," Tony replied. He stepped quickly to where Ziva had planted two more markers. The Mossad field officer was moving quickly through dense underbrush periodically stopping to place a marker.

An hour later, Tony photographed the latest blood splatter Ziva had located. The interval between the bloodstains had remained consistent with someone carrying another unconscious person. He was concerned with the amount of blood on the latest finds. The drops were getting progressively smaller, indicating that the victim was bleeding out. He looked over at Ziva who was squatted down on her haunches checking something on the ground. "What have you got?" he asked.

Ziva paused for a moment before answering. Every fiber in her body was screaming at her. She wanted to be away from here. Away from him. It pained her that someone she had once trusted so implicitly had betrayed and hurt her so deeply. She didn't hate him, she could never hate him, but she wondered if she could ever trust him again. It was a fact that was causing her a great of distress. A part of her wanted to trust him but another, more visceral, part wanted to inflict horrible pain and suffering on him for so cruelly hurting her. Little did she realize she already had.

"Tire tracks. Looks like a large vehicle, possibly a pickup or jeep," she replied. "Heading off towards the town." Turning to look at him, Ziva considered the changes she had noticed in Tony. He seemed to have a perpetual cloud of gloom hanging over him since her return. She recognized the telltale signs that he was drinking again. She suspected it was brought on by his guilt over killing Michael and causing her unimaginable pain. While he wasn't showing up for work with an obvious hangover, there were clear indicators that he was abusing alcohol again. Also, he seemed to be a different person. The Tony DiNozzo she'd grown fond of was gone. The new Tony was all-business. No jokes. No movie references. No chasing after every woman who struck his fancy. No smiles. When he was sober, he was outGibbsing Gibbs for the most serious attitude in the building. A pleasant change, in her mind. But nothing that would save him if she didn't learn what she wanted.

Ziva unzipped her NCIS-issue coat and fanned herself with it. Standing up, she turned towards Tony, who was still photographing the last bloodstains, and very slowly brushed back her jacket and drew her weapon. "Put the camera down and stand up," she ordered, pointing her Sig at his head. "Now."

Tony looked up at Ziva. He'd seldom seen such a cool, calculating look from her. He didn't doubt for a second she would shoot him. For some reason he couldn't define or explain, he wasn't surprised by this. "Haven't we had this conversation before? In Tel Aviv?" he said simply. He set the camera down in front of him and stood up slowly. His jacket was still zipped shut so there was no way he could go for his weapon before she put three rounds in his chest. A prospect that seemed ever more likely with each passing second.

"Up against the tree, facing me," she ordered, gesturing with her gun towards a nearby tree.

"I've told you what happened. You memorized my report," he said calmly. He slowly reached under his jacket and drew his Glock from its holster. Holding the grip with two fingers, he slowly placed the gun on the ground and then stood up and moved over to the tree.

"You did not tell me everything. I've been over it many times. There are glaring omissions in it," she stated. "I want to know what really happened that night."

"I told you in Tel Aviv. I've tried to tell you since you returned. I was hurt and on the ground. He had a six-inch long shard of jagged glass in his hand. I did the only thing I could. It was him or me," Tony admitted. "I had no choice. I had no choice."

"You lie!" she shouted. The urge to shoot him nearly overrode her judgment. The look in his eyes told him he expected her to shoot him. To perhaps end his misery. Misery. Yes. That was what she had been seeing in him these last few weeks. He was devastated by what had happened both in DC and Tel Aviv. The small part of her that still cared for him knew he had never intended for things to happen as they did. Regret, sorrow, guilt – they all radiated from every pore in his body. The raw emotions were eating him up from the inside.

The avenger didn't care about his pain. She wanted him to pay for what he'd done. For so completely destroying one of her most precious friendships. For killing someone she cared for.

"What do I gain by lying, Ziva?" Tony shouted back.

"You're not telling me everything. I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice. What did you leave out?" Ziva demanded. "WHAT?"

"What does it matter? He's dead. It's not going to change anything," Tony confessed.

"Tell me, please, Tony, I have to know," Ziva implored.

Slowly, Tony recounted the events of that night. From his surprise to seeing Michael in her apartment to their brief conversation to Michael's attack when Tony tried to arrest him. No detail was spared. Tony felt a tear trickle down his face as he slumped down against the tree. He sat down amongst the leaves and tree roots curling himself into a tight ball, his head resting against his knees.

"Ducky's autopsy showed he had a BAC of 0.16%, Ziva. It's the only reason I'm still alive," he said in a dead tone. "It was blind luck that I was able to knock him down on to the table. There was no way I could fight him hand-to-hand after what he did to my arm. I had to shoot him. It was the only way."

Ziva stood there. The avenger called him a filthy liar. Michael was not like that. He would never do what he did. Her heart, which so badly wanted to believe Tony, grieved with him after listening to his admission. The Tony she had quietly fallen in love with over the years now sat vulnerable in a way she'd never seen or thought possible. Every haunting emotion he'd felt since that night lay exposed for her to see. It was a sobering sight. Tony was one of the strongest people she'd ever met yet one act had nearly destroyed his life and soul. She watched silently as he brushed away tears. She had never thought anyone or anything could break Tony DiNozzo. And, yet, he'd done it to himself with an act for which he knew she would never forgive him.

"I.. I believe you," she finally said, her own tears starting to stream down her face. Ziva holstered her gun and moved closer to Tony, kneeling to pick up his gun and hand it back to him, gun butt first. Tony accepted the gun and put it back in his own holster. "The Tony I remember would never willingly hurt me."

"Will you ever forgive me?" The look in his eyes begged for absolution. "I don't think I could handle it if you hated me forever."

"In time," she said simply.

"Do you trust me?"

"In time," she repeated.

"So where does this leave us," he asked.

"Box zero," she said.

Tony frowned for a moment. "Square one, Ziva. Everything starts at square one."