Disclaimer: Okay, so I don't own the characters from NCIS. They're owned by Don McGill and Donald P Belisarius with a sprinkle of Aussie Shane Brennan as well as CBS. Mind you, that being said, I own the original characters that appear in this story.

A/N: Okay, so I made changes to the story because I thought things needed to be made right before I posted this again.

Washington DC – Eight Months Earlier

The Ford British racing green 66' convertible Mustang pulled into the underground car park of Tony's apartment block. The car pulled into the designated space. As he shut off the engine, Anthony DiNozzo angrily climbed out of the car. Slamming the door hard, he walked to the trunk to pull his gear out of the back.

"Crazy chick," he muttered angrily. Tony's mind lingered on Ziva's words, accusing him earlier that evening. They had been fighting earlier that night; what had started out as playful sexual banter had ended up getting into a full blown argument.

"Why does she get under my skin so much?" Tony ran a hand over his face.

He opened the trunk of the car and yanked his backpack, jacket and hat out. He slammed the trunk down, hard and angrily. He walked quickly towards the elevator. He continued to walk, muttering while shaking his head and his hands with angry frustration.

He was ten feet from his car when it exploded.

The explosion sent shrapnel, fragments and dust through the air in all directions. The shockwave from the blast threw the already injured NCIS agent off his feet. Sending him sliding across the bitumen, falling shrapnel cascaded around his unconscious body and the rest of the car park.

Dave noticed the smoke flowing up the stairwell at the end of the hallway as he walked to his apartment. He froze for a second before pulling his cell phone free of his pocket and racing towards the fire escape stairwell. He descended down the stairs at a rate of knots before he cautiously opened to door, revealing that the smoke was coming from the underground car park.

Proceeding, he opened the door, and as it swung open on its hinges, his eyes widened. A car was burning fiercely, black smoke rolling throughout the underground car park. Dialing 911, he stood transfixed in shock. He then noticed the body over by the elevator. Finding his legs responding once again, he rushed quickly over to where Tony lay unconscious. Checking his pulse, he let out a sigh of relief. The pulse was faint and Tony was bleeding profusely from his head and back, but he was alive.

"Dear Lord in heaven!" Dave gasped as he pressed the cell phone to his ear.

"911, emergency response. What is your emergency?" the operator said through his cell phone.

"I need an ambulance, the fire service and the police immediately. There's been an explosion," he said extremely quickly and rather panicky.

XXXXXXXX

The blue Chrysler sedan slowed and pulled to the side of the road. This was as close as Gibbs could get to Tony's apartment block. Gibbs climbed out of the driver's side carrying a disposable cup of coffee with him. He walked confidently into the underground car park. He paused to take in the view. The car wreckage was still smoking as the fire department crew cleaned up. The police line was already set and there were at least twelve cops stationed around the site. The ambulance had just exited the car park before Gibbs had walked into the entrance. Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and walked towards the police line. The policeman on duty held up his hand.

"Sorry, sir, you can't cross…" he began.

"Gibbs! NCIS!" Gibbs flipped open his ID and badge.

The policeman shrugged and lifted the tape for Gibbs to walk under. He stopped and stood as he looked at the carnage. Glass and shreds of metal had spread around of a diameter of fifteen meters.

Lucky only the cars either side of the Mustang were severely damaged, Gibbs thought.

"Boss." McGee finally appeared from nowhere, moving to Gibbs' side.

"What's the situation, McGee?" Gibbs asked him as he took another sip of coffee

"…Explosion, boss," McGee stammered out.

"Ya think, McGee," Gibbs responded sarcastically, before taking yet another sip of coffee

"Sorry, boss." McGee looked down at his feet. "Haven't found out much more yet."

"Ziva?" Gibbs questioned, looking around the crime scene

"No idea," McGee shrugged as Gibbs looked at him. "I tried to call her four times, and I called you at least six. I think the Rule Three went out the window."

McGee realised even as he caught the look from Gibbs that the boss wasn't angry with him. It was Ziva. She knew about the rules. Rule Three was never be unreachable. Ziva knew better because Ziva was Mossad.

Gibbs angrily stared at McGee. "To the point, McGee."

"Right," McGee said, feeling the pressure from Gibbs. "I got a call about fifteen minutes ago from the DC Police Department." He paused to collect his thoughts. "They got a call from a tenant in the apartment block about an explosion."

Gibbs shook his head in bewilderment and frustration. "The point, McGee?" He shook his head. "What is our involvement?"

"Uh, Boss," McGee said, his voice low as he tried to say something. "It's …"

"I'll tell him, Timothy." Doctor Donald 'Ducky' Mallard interrupted their conversation, coaxing McGee to leave with a gentle push.

Gibbs shouted after him, "McGee, find Ziva now!"

"Right, boss," McGee nodded, shouting back as he dialled the number in his cell.

"Now, Duck." Gibbs looked at the good Doctor intently. "What's the story?"

"Timothy called me when he couldn't get onto you," he replied. "You know he's very resourceful young man. By the way, whatever happened to rule number three?"

"Duck," Gibbs said, looking at him impatiently. "Today!"

"Sorry, Jethro." Ducky paused, face serious. "It would appear that there was a bomb placed within young Anthony's car," Ducky said, watching for Gibbs' reaction. It never came. "He was ten feet away from the car when it exploded."

"How bad is he, Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"When I arrived I spoke to the paramedics," Ducky said. "She wasn't able to tell me much except for the fact that he had a deep gash above his right temple, internal bleeding, four broken ribs and shrapnel imbedded in his back."

"Where did they take him?" Gibbs snapped, pulling out his cell phone.

"Bethesda Naval Hospital. I'm heading there now," Ducky said. He put a hand on Gibbs' forearm.

"Okay," Gibbs replied curtly as he closed his phone again. He walked off towards McGee, who now was interviewing the tenant who had found Tony.

XXXXXXXX

Gibbs climbed the stairs of the apartment block. He considered the block as he climbed. It was set in a nice area just outside the capital. It had great views overlooking the Potomac River. Gibbs mused to himself that it was the sort of apartment a spy would be situated in. Gibbs even began to think that Mossad would have been given the keys to Ziva's apartment. It was his gut that told him he was right. It was also his gut that told him she was here. He walked over to the door. Gibbs knocked hard, rapping on the door with his knuckles. There was no sound from inside. Gibbs looked in through the window. He saw nobody. There was no light from within.

Giving in, he pulled out his lock pick. He knelt down and he began to work. It took him five minutes and Gibbs guessed it was an Israeli lock that had been fitted. Finally the click of the lock told him his job was done. He rose slowly and placed his hand on his gun. He opened the door quietly and moved into the room. The first thing Gibbs noticed was an empty bottle of Johnny Walker on the table. That bottle was no stranger to Gibbs. He holstered his weapon and walked through each room, looking for a sign that Ziva was about.

Gibbs reached the bedroom, making it his last port of call. Gibbs opened the door slightly. Ziva lay, fully-dressed, on the bed in an awkward and uncomfortable position. He could see she was breathing regularly. Nothing had happened to her; that was relief. But he decided not to cut her the slack he probably should have. Closing the door again, he slammed his fist against the door.

"Wake up, David!"

From behind the door there was a groan, the noise of someone falling off the bed and then the door of the ensuite closing. Even as Gibbs opened the door, he could hear Ziva vomiting. Two minutes later with the toilet flushing, she walked of the bathroom.

"Was that necessary, Gibbs?" Ziva looked annoyed at him a few minutes later as she let her boss into her apartment.

"I don't know. Was it?" he retorted angrily.

"No, I don't think so," Ziva said, staring back at him bleary eyed and irritated.

Gibbs walked over to the cell phone sitting on her bedside table. He turned it on. "What's the rule?"

"Gibbs, I'm…" Ziva started

"Sorry? You're sorry, David?" Gibbs ripped into her, letting all of last night's frustrations and anger go. "I've got an injured NCIS agent on the operating table, a crime scene that I had McGee do all the work on and I made him ring you seven times. Sorry doesn't cut it!"

Ziva slumped onto the bed, everything that Gibbs said began to sink in. "Who was the agent, Gibbs?"

Gibbs exited the room, his anger slowly seeping away he looked back at her. "I'll wait for you in the car. You've got fifteen minutes to be ready, Ziva!"

XXXXXXXX

Ziva sat at her desk. She felt like a caged tiger being watched by people visiting the zoo. She had felt sick when Jenny had told her that Tony had been the injured agent. Ziva never felt like this when she had seen injured people before. She had taken several deep breaths for two reasons: one she had wanted to throw up and two she had wanted to cry. This second reason had really surprised her. She had wanted to cry over a guy who saw women as pleasurable objects rather than people. Ziva was beginning to now see that this wasn't true. Underneath the façade, Tony was a genuine guy. Who was happy being himself, the Mr Cool act was all that he held between himself and the world.

It had been his pride, his arrogance and his self-centred attitude that had turned her off him for the first few weeks. That was until the incident with the two dead assassins, when they both had gone undercover. They had been captured by assassins hired and paid to kill the real assassin couple they were pretending to be. Tony had come up a plan that wouldn't save him, but her. He had been willing to sacrifice his life for her to see the hired assassins that had captured them go down.

It had worked. Ziva had rushed in quickly to save him. Tony had once again slipped on his mask as soon as Gibbs walked into the room.

Last night was an ugly memory to her and she couldn't forgive herself for it. She had called him names trying to unlock that ghost within him. It had failed dismally. In the end, their banter and their parries and thrust of conversation turned into more. She had insulted him by first resorting to calling him something derogatory in regards to his Italian background. He had dished it back at her. More insults were traded before she had put her foot in it. She had very unsubtly likened him to Ari. Tony had bitten.

He had suddenly been in her face. Ziva had been shocked at how much damage it had done. He had given her a tongue lashing that she had not forgotten, nor would she ever again. Tony had stalked out of the office and she had felt the full force of his anger. For someone who was a spy, she should not have reacted like she did next. For the first time in her life, she had held at arm's length the one person who really meant something to her. She had downed that Johnny Walker bottle upon her arrival home that night and had drifted into oblivion.

She had also paid the penalty for it with Gibbs shouting at her. Deep within her, Ziva had realised even as Gibbs lectured her that Tony was the injured agent. She had refused to believe it. It wasn't until Jen had told her this morning that she'd really believed it. And now it was the realisation that had hit her. Jen had returned from the hospital and had told her that Ducky and Palmer were both watching over him in ICU. Apparently he hadn't woken up at the end of the operation. Ducky seemed to be ninety-nine percent certain he would come round in the next couple of hours. Jen had arrived to tell her the news and it had been the needle that had broken the camel's back.

Ziva closed her eyes as she realised that she got that idiom wrong. It was the straw, not the needle. Tony would have corrected her if her thoughts had been out loud. Then again, Tony wasn't here to correct her and it felt like a big gap in her heart was empty.

Ziva now realised that McGee was sitting at his desk so she tried to look busy. McGee, for his part, was doing a bad job of not looking at her.

A/N: I hope you are enjoying the new additions so far…Please review.