Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of NCIS and this story is for entertainment purposes only. No financial gain occurred from the writing of this piece.

Rating: T

Warnings: Deals with grief and loss. Tony-centric story and fans of McGee and Ziva will probably be offended so do everyone a favour and don't read it.

A/N This one was written way back last year and just sitting around on my computer. Fear not, I am working on my two WIPs as we speak. This is a one off story not particularly related to any episode and set sometime in season 11. Much thanks to Arress for beta'ing this and you should all know the score by now. Any boo-boos are my bad.

Conflict Management

Tony watched as Cate and Ziva circled each other cautiously, eyeing each other off…speculatively. The air was thick with tension – and female hormones ran rife - okay, that just might have been his overly active male imagination, he conceded. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all, despite Henry's assurances that it would be fine. His gut was saying that these two weren't going play nice with each other, even though it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He sat watching the two females for the longest time, observing the silent battle of wills that ensued. He was uncomfortably aware that Cate was giving him the evil eye, and he supposed he couldn't blame her. Of course she was going to be pissed that Ziva was in her territory without any real warning; although, really, how do you prepare for something so life-changing? Perhaps he should have tried, though, or thought about it longer; been a little less carpe diem.

Just when he thought that the pair of females had called an uneasy truce that would eventually settle into a grudging détente and long-term, hopefully, friendship – all Hell broke loose. Running into the kitchen Tony grabbed a plastic container and filled it with water. He ran back out again, grabbed up the net and scooped Ziva out and plonked her into the plastic container. Obviously he had been tempting fate with his thoughts of anything long-term and the Gods had decided to teach him a lesson.

"Bad Ziva, naughty bad fish! You do not beat up on Caty," He scolded frantically as he tried to assure himself that his goldfish was okay.

Feeling panicked, he half expected Cate to curl up her toes – well, if she had any, and die just like her namesake had. Tony wasn't good with pets, not having had much experience with them growing up; the only pets he'd been allowed were a bunch of sea monkeys. Such a grandiose name for creatures that in reality had absolutely nothing to do with simians. They were in actuality brine shrimp that are a hybrid species. And they'd had met with a frankly grisly demise when his mother, who was pleasantly plastered at the time, mistook them for a glass of mint julep. It had been a highly traumatic event for a little boy to have witnessed his mother drinking his beloved pets. Thus his lack of experience with sentient creatures ever since then had made him rather neurotic over Cate the goldfish.

Ironically, this was probably how this whole thing got started in the first place, along with his inexperience and overwhelming desire to do right by Cate. Mrs Lansing, his neighbour catty-corner across the hall from him, had offered to mind his goldfish for him when he'd gone off chasing after Ziva (the woman, not the fish) in Israel to make sure she was safe after someone decided that the MCRT needed to be taken out, permanently. When he'd finally returned home, Mrs. Lansing had brought Cate home safe and sound, but suggested that perhaps she was lonely on her own and would benefit from a little company. "Perhaps from another goldfish, Anthony dear," when he observed, a tad offended, that he talked to her all the time.

Well, up to that point Tony had always thought that Cate was remarkably self-contained and happy, that she enjoyed their one-on-one relationship. Here he was thinking that she enjoyed their tête-à-têtes. But once the idea had been planted in his head, Tony couldn't put it to rest. Was she lonely? With his own painfully lonely childhood, he was appalled to think that he might have subjected his beloved goldfish to a similar fate through his unthinking behaviour. Was he a neglectful goldfish parent? He decided to remedy the situation as soon as he could and when he had an opportunity to visit his local pet store, he grabbed it.

Flashback:

Perhaps he'd get her a black boggle-eye as a buddy, he mused as he entered the store to stare at the myriad of brightly coloured fish swimming around in the various tanks. Seeing a species called Betta Splendens, he was stunned at their magnificence. The fish were unbelievably beautiful with long gracefully flowing fins and exotic colours, some that were so incredibly vivid it took his breath away.

"Gorgeous aren't they?" The store assistant asked as he sidled up to Tony who was transfixed as he watched them as they swam about. With their impressive fins that were virtually veil-like, it was almost like watching some intricate aquatic ballet.

"Um… yeah, they're awesome."

"My name's Henry, can I help you with something?"

"Tony, and I wanted to get a buddy for my goldfish, Cate."

"Did you want to get another goldfish or were you thinking about a getting a Betta Splendens?" The assistant enquired.

"Well, I was thinking about a boggle eye goldfish, but now that I've seen these guys, I think I might have changed my mind. Can they live with goldfish?" Tony asked.

"Well, the males are really aggressive, which is why we have them housed separately in what we call Betta Barracks." Tony, when he looked carefully, could see a tank that was partitioned off with see-through dividers.

"The females are fine to live together, but if you had a male in with a goldfish, it would probably be okay seeing they are generally fine with female Bettas," Henry said confidently.

Tony thought about it for all of two seconds before deciding that generally didn't cut it, not when it came to his beloved Caty. So no male – anyway she would probably accuse any male that was that good looking of being a narcissistic male chauvinist pig. He noticed – keen investigator that he was, that the tank full of females weren't as spectacularly attractive as the males. Their fins were shorter and their hues, although still beautiful, were not as flamboyantly coloured as their male counterparts.

So Tony had picked out a female with cobalt blue fins graduating into mauves and with a paler blue body and taken her home to introduce her to her new BFF. He decided on the way home that he was going to call his newest pet Ziva after his former team mate. As he was paying for his new Betta, Henry informed him that the Betta Splendens were native to Thailand and also known as Siamese Fighting Fish, so he figured that they were the ninjas of the fish world; therefore, it seemed fitting that Cate's companion should have a ninja name, too.

Arriving home, he left the bag containing Ziva ninja fish sitting in Cate's fishbowl for a while so that his newest fish acclimated to the water temperature in her new home before he turned her loose to get to know her new bestie.

End Flashback:

At first it seemed like all would be fine, but after the massive chick fight – could you classify female fish as chicks he wondered - now he had a traumatised and sulky Caty fish, and Ziva fish swimming around smugly in a plastic container. This is not how he envisaged fish parent domestic bliss.

Had he caused this, Tony wondered? If he'd called his new fish Paula or Cassie, would it have made a difference? Both were amazingly strong women also capable of kicking ass, but unlike his former partner, they didn't routinely revert to violence when pressured. Tony had thought when she'd opted to become a naturalised American that Ziva had been ready to leave her past behind, but after exacting vengeance for her father, she had fled back to Israel again. What had he been thinking tempting fate like that and calling his new pet after a Kidon trained assassin?

A part of Tony knew these thoughts were irrational and that he hadn't caused his new fish to turn into a killer by the simple act of bestowing a specific name upon her. That despite what Gibbs thought, there was such a thing as a coincidence. But Tony had been conditioned by his childhood to feel responsibility for everything that went wrong, even when he was in no way responsible. It was part of who he was – not a good quality, but it was one that people, especially his friends, took advantage of, knowing that regardless of what they did he would forgive them since he would blame himself and not them for the abuse. He'd even been guilted into resigning to protect his boss, who had broken the law repeatedly in the 12 years he'd worked for him, although Tony had devoted himself to upholding the law and protecting the innocent, and had been the only one of his team not in the prosecutor's sights.

After a frantic call to the pet store and a chat with Henry, who was really surprised to hear about the fight, he recommended waiting a while and trying again. Tony decided that there was no way that he would risk it, though, since he couldn't bear to think about Cate getting badly hurt. So he hustled off to the pet store again to buy a second fish bowl with plants, gravel and ornaments – basically everything that a fish could wish for. Tony figured he could set up a variation on the 'Betta Barracks' by having the two fishbowls side by side so that they could see each other, but Ziva wouldn't be able to pick on the less aggressive goldfish. It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than the alternative, because he wasn't about to take the risk of putting them back together again in the same fish bowl.

Two weeks later:

Tony entered Autopsy, knowing that Ducky and Gibbs were up in the Director's office for a conference about their current case.

"Hey Jimmy," He greeted Ducky's offsider with affection. "What do you know about fish?"

"Hi, Tony, I know a little. What's up?"

"My new fish, a Betta Splendens, seems to have some sort of weird growth on her head."

"I didn't know you had a new fish. Was it there when you got her?" Jimmy wanted to know.

"Nope, it just seemed to appear overnight. Do fish get tumours?" Tony asked worriedly, before explaining why he'd decided to get a 'friend' for Cate.

"Yeah, but they don't usually just appear overnight. Do ya want me to swing by and have a look at her after work?" He offered.

"That would be great, Jimbo, thanks. I'll spring for Thai if you want to stay for dinner. What about Breena?"

"Naw, she's visiting a friend who's just getting over a bad breakup. They're going out for dinner, so I'm on my own tonight."

Later that day, Jimmy had come over and set Tony's mind at ease somewhat, offering his opinion that it wasn't a tumour or some sort of growth. He though that it was a haematoma caused by some sort of injury. He had suggested that Tony set up a camera to see if he could figure out how Ziva was hurting herself. Once Tony discovered the cause, he could probably figure out some way to prevent it recurring, the Autopsy Gremlin had reasoned, and Tony was glad that Jimmy had worked at an animal clinic before attending medical school.

So he set up a camera while he wasn't around to monitor Ziva and see how the injury was occurring. It didn't take all that long to discover what the problem was. As the day wore on, Ziva became more and more active, and that activity mainly took the role of his new fish slamming her head on side of her fishbowl repeatedly. Tony had been monitoring his video surveillance via his smart phone, and what he saw made him wonder if Ziva the fish had mental health issues, and if so, was there such a thing as a fish shrink or fish whisperer?

Heading back down to Autopsy, he showed the footage to Jimmy, and Ducky came and peered over their shoulder to watch, too.

"Oh my," The ME exclaimed. "That is quite an aggressive Betta Splendens you have, my boy."

"Aggressive?" Tony questioned disbelievingly.

Jimmy nodded. "Yep, Tony, that is one damned angry female fish. Wonder what bee Ziva has in her bonnet," He joked.

Ducky looked confused. "What does Ms. David have to do with the price of fish, Mr. Palmer?"

"Not the person, Ducky, my new fish…her name is Ziva" Tony explained. "She was supposed to be a friend for my goldfish, Caty, but… um, they didn't get along."

"Where do you have her fishbowl situated, my boy?" Ducky enquired solicitously.

Tony explained what had happened when he'd tried to introduce the two females and how he decided that he'd set up 'Betta Barracks" so they could see still each other and provide stimulation.

Jimmy and Ducky exchanged enigmatic looks and nodded knowingly.

"I've seen that behaviour before in a Betta," Jimmy revealed. "One of the receptionists at the vet hospital, Suzy, had a male Betta, and she used to put a mirror in his fish bowl. He'd go loco thinking that it was another male and try and attack it."

Ducky stared at him aghast. "Why?"

"Because he thought it was another male in his tank," Jimmy explained patiently.

"Well, yes, I got that, Mr. Palmer, but why did she put a mirror in the fish bowl?"

"Oh… well, she was quite the ah, um, character. Said it was better than watching TV, but then again, she was one for sarcastic quips. Suzy used to make all these pithy observations about the pet owners in the waiting room that were pretty darned funny and insightful."

"Sounds like she's related to McNovelist," Tony remarked.

"Oh no, she didn't trash her colleagues by writing a passive-aggressive book about them all and putting on airs about being a serious novelist," Jimmy joked, but Ducky and Tony detected an undercurrent of lingering resentment over McGee's supposed work of fiction. Evidently being labelled a Polynesian nymphomaniac and having rabid sex with cadavers in the morgue still touched a nerve. Huh, go figure!

Ducky, ever the diplomat, hurriedly changed the subject

"I think that your Cate is perhaps acting in lieu of the mirror, dear boy," Ducky surmised. "Possibly if you were to monitor her behaviour, you would find a correlation to the aggression and Caitlyn's namesake and her activity level."

"But I don't get it, Ducky, Ziva isn't a male and the females aren't supposed to be aggressive, are they?" Tony queried.

"True, but there are always going to be the exception to the rule, Tony. Rogue females." Jimmy commented thoughtfully.

Ducky looked contemplative. "Of course, you may not have a female Betta, Anthony."

"But Dr. Mallard, Ziva is short finned," Jimmy objected.

"Hmm… well, in the wild the Siamese Fighting Fish are much more homogeneous in appearance, lads. It is domestic fish breeders who have exaggerated the males' fin length and vivid colours to make them more appealing to the average pet buyers. But because they are selectively bred, you often get throwbacks. Just like with long-haired dogs and cats, you'll frequently get short-hairs in a litter of long-haired offspring. So the Bettas can sometimes be wrongly sexed as females when, in fact, they are short-finned males," Ducky explained patiently.

Tony's forehead was furrowed with lines as he considered the information. Ziva might not be a girl, um, female? "Hang on a minute though, Ducky, if Ziva isn't a female then why would she er he attack Cate? I thought that male Bettas were only aggressive to other male Bettas?"

Jimmy shook his head. "Not necessarily. If 'he' was feeling horny and tried to get it on with Cate and she slapped him down since he isn't a goldfish, then he could have become frustrated. And that might have expressed itself as aggression."

Tony groaned, aware of the irony since Cate's namesake, his dead partner Caitlyn Todd, had been a bit prudish. He really was beginning to wish he'd ignored Mrs. Lansing who, although well-meaning, had created havoc. Playing on his insecurities that he wasn't providing a good environment for Cate, he'd guilted himself into getting a companion for her, and the ungrateful wench had thrown it back in his face.

"So, how can we tell?" He asked.

"I'm not sure, dear boy, but I don't know that it matters all that much what sex or why. What does matter now is to find a way to solve the self-mutilation."

Jimmy nodded earnestly. "Dr. Mallard's right, Tony, but it's not rocket science. Just find a new place to put her fishbowl… maybe in the kitchen so she can't see Cate, and things will probably settle down fine." He patted his friend's shoulder reassuringly.

Life did indeed settle down with the relocation of Ziva's fishbowl into the kitchen. Her large lump gradually decreased and domestic peace ensued. While Tony was disappointed with how his experiment with social engineering had panned out, he was pragmatic enough to realise that life, to paraphrase Forrest Gump's mother, was like a box of chocolates. Life was all about acknowledging your mistakes and finding ways to move forward regardless. It was all a question of conflict management.

As he cleaned up in the kitchen after dinner, he had a chat with Ziva, fed her/him, and wished the Betta Splendens goodnight, telling her/him that Mrs. James would be in to clean the apartment the next day and to be good. He always made sure to straighten up anything out of place so she could do the floors without fuss or having to put stuff like DVDs and books away. And he made sure to tidy the bathroom so she could clean it, before finally crooning a ditty to Cate since she liked his singing, and heading off to bed to watch a movie on his portable DVD player.

Tomorrow was going to be a busy day since he needed to drive down to Baltimore to interview some relatives of their latest victim, and he wanted to be fresh and rested. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about their newest team mate. They'd finally filled Ziva's place on the team and Ellie Bishop was slowly finding her place in the MCRT. Life was finally getting back on track!

Epilogue:

Tony noticed it as soon as he walked through the door. Ziva's fish bowl was back beside Cate's on the table, but it was empty. Ziva had somehow ended up back in Cate's fish bowl (Jimmy informed him later that Bettas are known to jump) and s/he was floating on her side – stone cold dead, her fins badly ripped. Meanwhile, Cate was calmly swimming around, and Tony could have sworn that she wore the biggest fish smirk he'd ever seen. But that was impossible, after all… fish couldn't grin…could they?

After he fished Ziva's body out of the fish bowl he laid her to rest in a takeout container so he could bury her – no way was he going to flush her body down the toilet. He'd ask Gibbs if he could bury her at his place. When he'd gone looking for a container to use as a fish casket, he noticed Mrs. James, his cleaner, had left him a note on the fridge:

Dear Tony,

You've probably noticed I moved Ziva out of the kitchen. I'm afraid I dropped a bottle of floor cleaner in the kitchen and it broke. I was worried the chemicals would be harmful to her, so I moved her so she'd be safe. I'll see you in two weeks.

Cheers,

Betty James

Tony couldn't believe how gutted he felt about Ziva's death. It was like his sea monkeys all over again, and he had to admit the memories that it evoked weren't good ones. He felt so damned guilty, sure that he'd told Mrs. James why he'd separated Cate and Ziva, but he obviously hadn't been clear enough. He felt like such a bad pet parent, and all the while Cate seemed to be inordinately smug about her victory. And it did seem ironic that she had avenged her namesake's death. Ziva David hadn't killed Caitlyn Todd, of course, but she had prepared the dossier that permitted Ari to get inside Gibbs' head. Ari knew that losing Cate and Abby, who was also supposed to die, was the easiest way to break the man who had never recovered from the death of his wife and daughter.

As he said good night to his goldfish, Tony couldn't help glancing around his apartment as he wondered if Cate ever dropped in to see him. If so, was she laughing her ass off that Caty Fish had taken out Ninja Ziva, and did that make Caty a Ninja, too? Sighing, he decided that it had been a while since he'd lit a candle for his fallen partner and as he turned out the lights, he decided to stop off tomorrow at the local parish church to remedy that after he'd buried Ziva. "Night, Cate," He whispered, knowing that tonight would probably be one of those nights when he woke up from that nightmare on the roof. Even after so many years it always left him full of guilt and with a pathological need to shower to try to wash away her blood and... "Not going there," he whispered, pushing aside the ugly memories that even now still haunted him. Some things you never truly forget!

End Notes: Carpe diem is Latin for seize the day or don't waste time.