Shannon had already been back for half a year when she realized that Jethro might have changed after all. Before that, she had always seen him exactly as the man he had been when she saw him last – happy and hopelessly in love with her.

The change became obvious when he came home from work one night. It had been a very difficult case and, no matter how much Shannon tried to help, he would not let her. He went straight to his basement, to the boat he had been neglecting for weeks, to the beer he hadn't tasted since the night before his wife came back. He stayed in the basement all night, saying no to every kind of food Shannon offered him, looking more depressed than Shannon had ever seen.

Not wanting to talk about his day, Jethro sent Shannon away, telling her that everything was classified. It wasn't, but he felt like his real reason not to tell her would just hurt her feelings.

'I don't want to talk to YOU, I want to talk to Ziva. She knows what happened today, she knows how I feel, she knows what I need! What I need is to sit here and drink and maybe talk a little. I don't want to be pushed. I need my time. I need my boat. I need Ziva!', would be a very bad thing to say to his wife.

Jethro himself had already known that something was different. He had known it for weeks. Only a few months after Shannon had come home, Jethro had found himself spending more and more time thinking of Ziva. The nights he spent with her, drunk in his basement, was something he missed to no end. No matter how many nights he lay awake next to his wife, he never really thought that his affection for Ziva would ever be more than just friendly.

He used to think that he just missed his best friend, that he missed talking to her, that he missed the person who understood him best.

Six months after his wife's return, he began to realize that his friendship with Ziva might have been more than that after all.

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At work, everything had been back to normal for a few weeks. Jethro was back to his grumpy self and therefor everyone around him was back to doing good work again. Tony got his head slaps back, McGee had a reason to work harder, Ducky had a reason to shut up every once in a while.

Even Ziva was halfway back to normal. After being completely lost for a while, without her best friend, she finally started to get used to the new situation.

That one day, six months after Shannon's return, everything had taken a turn for the worse.

There had been an explosion on the navy yard, leaving eight marines dead and therefor eight murders to investigate. Gibbs had sent McGee to help Abby in the lab, figuring that she would need help staying calm at the sight of the crime scene photos. Tony and Ziva were sent to bring in the families of all eight marines.

35 hours, eight grieving families and about a million cups of coffee later, the killer was finally in custody. Gibbs sent home his team as soon as he had the confession and then told the families that the bastard was caught.

On his way home, Jethro couldn't stop thinking about Ziva. Throughout the day, she had kept looking at him with this concerned look on her face, that made him want to hug it away and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

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In her own apartment, miles away from Gibbs' house, Ziva couldn't help but think about her boss again. This case must have been horrible for him, remembering his own accident.

'I wonder if he even told Shannon about that...' He probably hadn't, trying to protect her from the nightmares that came with it. The whole team still had them, yet, Gibbs had the worst ones. He told her about them sometimes – in his basement, drunk – and they would talk about their memories of that day. Ziva would tell him that she, too, had nightmares about that day. Loosing him was one of the things she really couldn't cope at that point, at any point.

That day had brought them closer than any other case ever had. He had remembered because of her, he had come back from Mexico for her, he had never told anyone about those nightmares, anyone but her. Even the whole Ari-thing had never had as much influence on their relationship. It had brought them together in the first place, yes, but the explosion had made them friends, best friends.

Somehow, just thinking about Gibbs made Ziva miss him more. Of course she had gotten used to the new situation, but being able to function doesn't equal being fine with everything.

She wanted her best friend back. She needed to talk to him, because she couldn't talk to anyone else. No one else would understand.

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TBC

A/N: It's kinda horrible to try and write a story that has been in your head for years... you know... a story you love so much that your own writing doesn't seem to be good enough.

It makes me hate this story and I hate this feeling... but I'll write it anyway... because as long as people read it and like it I'm still glad I'm writing it down...

I really hope you like it!