Suggested Soundtrack – Terrible Love (Alternate Version) by The National

There was a moment in which Ziva knew something was wrong. By the time she reached her desk, there was nothing out of the ordinary. No, Tony had high-tailed it back to his own space. The first thing that struck the Israeli as odd was the fact that Tony looked pale and..brooding. His cheer was curiously gone. And he was glancing at her, the kind of glance they he did when he didn't want her to know he was looking at her.

But she always did.

Ziva didn't speak until she was back and settled at her desk. Until she noticed her bottom drawer was open a fraction. And her promise was jammed in haphazardly. Really? Had they gone through her things?

Ziva's heart fluttered.

"Did somethi-?"

"Gear up. We've got a dead Marine." Agent Gibbs blew through, cutting Ziva off with coffee in his hand. Cold by now, unless he reheated it. He chunked it into his waste bin. Definitely cold.

In unison, the trio of agents grabbed their backpacks. Tony was staring at her the whole time. She was confused, to be honest. Why was he looking at her like that? She shot him an annoyed, 'what are you doing?' kind of look when it got too uncomfortable.

"Does Ray like your hair straight or something?" Tony asked with a grunt as he situated his pack.

Smooth, Tony. Ziva frowned. "Why?"

"I like it curly. Yanno, loose."

Really? "..Noted."

"Discuss hairstyles on your own time, DiNozzo." Gibbs sighed, heading for the elevator, team in tow with a "Sorry boss" coming automatically from Tony. The elevator ride was awkward. Now McGee had joined in on the staring game. Except they were not looking at her face – they were looking at her left hand. Of course.

They'd found the box and assumed Ray had proposed. And why would she have an empty ring box unless she had said yes? Of course, of course. Anger stirred. They'd invaded her privacy (or at least, Tony had), and now they thought she'd keep something like being engaged from them? They were her family! More than family!

"What are you staring at?" asked Ziva sharply. And she intended it.

"Oh. Nothing." McGee stammered. His gaze snapped away, as if he'd just been lost in thought.

He hadn't been. Or maybe he was. Ziva gripped the strap of her backpack. Gibbs drove and she jumped at having shotgun. The last thing she wanted was to be jammed in the backseat with Tony or McGee.

It was a long car ride.

Pamf. Pamf.

The flash went off. Ziva moved her camera away from her sight for a moment and looked at the scene. They were in a small but comfortably furnished apartment. Cozy red couch. An easy chair. A stack of pseudo-intellectual books on a wood veneer coffee table. A few personal photos in silver frames, some nicknacks and flower arrangements. It was home, all things considered. Of course, the only thing Ziva was photographing were the tendrils of blood smeared and creeping across the plush wheat colored carpet, toward the bedroom. If it weren't for the blood, it would have been very hard to see that something was wrong.

There were no signs of struggle. The victim was in her bed, tucked in neat serenity. Ziva snapped away.

Pamf. Pamf. Pamf.

"Staff Sergeant Mackenzie Caruthers." McGee murmured between flashes, legal documents in hand. Initial police write-up. "Thirty-four, lived alone. Neighbors noticed that her car was still in the garage even though she left with a man," He flipped a page. "Four days ago."

"And now she is back in her apartment. Dead." Ziva commented. Pamf.

"Right."

Ziva frowned. "Tony, pull the covers back." She was done with photos. Tony did so, latex-gloved hands taking the thick floral comforter and folding it neatly to the side. They stared. Gibbs sighed, the sort of sigh that questioned humanity. Humanity and their astounding capacity for evil. "McGee. Go talk to the neighbors. Tony, Ziva. Evidence." The silver-haired Marine turned away and left.

Tony and Ziva stared.

The sheets under her body where stained with a great deal of blood. The cause of death was immediately evident – her wrists had been slit and she's bled out. It could have been a suicide – except for the fact that her negligee clad body was covered in grotesque bruises. Arms, legs, torso.

"Her bones are broken." Muttered Ziva.

"Reminds me of Misery." Tony added, looking to Ziva. She narrowed her eyes. Misery?

"One of your movies, yes?"

"Come on, Da-veed! Misery. Stephen King. Kathy Bates takes a sledgehammer to James Caan's ankles! One of the greatest thrillers of all time!"

"Recall that I do not own a television, Tony."

"I'll add it to our list for movie night." Tony winked at her, but it was still..off. "Anyway, she's got more than her ankles broken by the looks of it."

"Quite right, Anthony." Doctor Mallard entered the room, Jimmy Palmer in tow and giving an awkwardly friendly nod and smile to Ziva and Tony. "Just in my initial glance," Ducky gestured towards the body with a gloved hand, "I can see that this poor young women has had most – perhaps all – of the bones in her limbs broken." The older medical examiner ambled to the bedside. "Of course, we won't be sure until I perform the full autopsy."

He continued to talk (something about falling out of a tree as a child and breaking his arm), but Ziva's mind was elsewhere. Women seemed like they were always the target. The victim. Murder. Rape. She stared at Mackenzie's corpse sternly. "This is familiar."

"No kidding." Tony frowned. "Two weeks ago. It was almost the same."

"Just different enough.."

"..to where we didn't think about it until now."

Tony was staring again, but at her face. Concern masked it. Ziva looked to him and away from the body after a moment. "Another serial killer?" Her voice was small and softer than she would have liked. But all she could see in her mind was Mike Franks laid out on Ducky's table.

The monster that killed him. The monsters that hid in the shadows, the ones that clawed at her in her sleep and haunted her. Monsters that killed and stole and destroyed.

"Hey."

Ziva focused back on Tony. She must have given her thoughts away in her face.

"It'll be okay."

Ziva didn't say anything. She nodded just a fraction to satisfy Tony (or perhaps not) and waited for Ducky and Palmer to move the body. She watched them move her and her heart ached. She had been a beautiful woman – fit with cream colored skin and black, sweeping curls. She imagined green eyes, but they were probably brown. When they were gone, Tony started dusting from prints. Bag and tag.

A few agonizing moments passed.

"You went through my desk."

"..Yeah. Sorry."

"Satisfied?" Her tone was biting. She was still a little angry about that.

"No, not really, Ziva." Tony said with just as much fire. "You have something you wanna tell me?"

"No. I do not."

"Then a box for an engagement ring is nothing?" He was flustered. It wasn't just retaliatory anger. "What, did CIRay propose to you? Probie joining Palmer and gettin' married?"

"Are you jealous, Tony?" She spat back. He stared at her. For a long time, he just stared, those light eyes poorly hiding conflict. Ziva shut him up with that, but she still had her answer. He was jealous. But why? He had EJ.

Ziva realized that that thought came with a bitterness. Was she jealous, too?

"No. He did not propose."

And that's all she would say on the matter.

I'm with another boy
(He's asleep, I'm wide awake )
And he tried to win my heart
But it's taken
(Time...)

[lyrics by Jaymay]