A/N Okay, it's basically been an eternity since I've posted on this site, so please excuse any foul ups. This is a Ziva story, but it has a lot of self-bashing. You know, that angst stuff we all love. It takes place during the episode, Shalom and it's Ziva's thoughts before she decides to contact Gibbs for help. For the record, this may seem like it's Ziva/Gibbs, but it's not. There is absolutely no shipping in this story.

It was ironic, she supposed, as she looked around the all to familiar basement. It was here that a bullet from her gun had ended her beloved brother's life, yet this is the first place she though of when she needed a haven from her own people. Perhaps she, too, would meet her end at the hand of someone she knew; loved.

Sitting on the basement steps, Ziva looked stared blankly at a circular portion of the basement floor that had obviously been bleached when compared to the dark gray of the concrete around it. For a moment, she could see Ari lying there, that look of innocent surprise forever sealed on his face, and the crimson puddle reaching out towards her. When she closed her eyes, the sent of copper and musty sawdust rushed back to her along with the wafting yet familiar sent of burnt gunpowder leaking from the cold gun she imagined to be loosely grasped in her slack hand as she stared.

Taking a shaky breath, Ziva glanced at the ceiling in an attempt to get control of herself. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if it was all worth it. What good had she actually done for the team? She hadn't been able to save Tony when he was framed, and hadn't kept her faith in McGee when he shot that cop. Hell, she nearly got Director Shepard killed that suspect died in her custody. She still had failed to get Abby to completely warm up to her. The death of Kate, and the fact that Ziva's brother killed her would probably stand between them forever. She had saved Ducky from that grave robber, but the doctor probably wouldn't have been in danger if she hadn't insisted in following the trail without backup.

The only person she had really helped was Gibbs; the man many would state didn't need it. It was for him that she murdered her brother like a coward hidden from view, and it was her who restored his memory by revealing the former. Even after all of that, Gibbs left to go fishing in Mexico with his old boss.

Ziva scoffed. Wouldn't that be nice? She could never just up and leave Mossad. She was in too deep. Of course, she had never really expected to live to the age where she could pass off quitting as retirement. As she had pointed out to Gibbs at their first meeting, all of the good control officers at Mossad are dead by his age. At the time she had said it with confidence. Sometimes her casual acquaintance with death unnerved her, so she really couldn't blame her teammates for their unsettled demeanors when it came to dealing with her. Truly, it was no surprise everyone treated her like a walking time bomb. People who regard with such casual disregard are often to be feared in society, and with good reason.

Realizing that she had been standing on the steps for a while now, Ziva slowly moved forward, placing her weight on the next step, almost cringing at the loud creak that had no business existing in stairs owned by such a talented carpenter. Looking around, Ziva cracked a slight smile as she approached the still unfinished boat, sitting peacefully as though its maker had just stepped out for a short while. Ziva wondered if the unfinished boat held any significance; if, perhaps, Gibbs leaving it unfinished was his own silent disbelief in his decision to leave the job that he defined, and that gave him the chance to save lives everyday.

Gibbs! Ziva stopped suddenly. She had decided not to involve her teammates at NCIS, because, if one of them got caught, it could set off a chain reaction that would ruin everyone of her new American family's lives. Gibbs, however, was conveniently no longer a member of NCIS. He could help! But would he? Technically, he had told her he owed her, but did that extend this far? This was an international incident. If she ended up at the bad end of this, it could lead to problems with Interpol, the CIA, and any number of terrorist countries that would cry for justice, and their right to try a high ranking Mossad assassin in their own courts.

Still, she had to at least try. Now was not the time to give up, not for a highly trained operative like herself. If she gave up, it would be the end for her, both figuratively, and most likely literally. It could be the equivalent of suicide, and she would stand by her beliefs on that being an option only resorted to when she knew she had no way out. She would be nothing less than a hypocrite if she didn't at least try to get some help. If she couldn't...maybe then it could happen. She would hear what Gibbs had to say first.

Of course, to do this, she would need a phone number, and there was only one person at the agency she was certain would always have a way to worm her way into Gibbs' life. Ziva just hoped Abby had warmed up to her enough to give her the chance to argue her innocence.

Please R/R

Peace, Hobbit Killer