I cornered him in the hallway. It was late, the case was hard, and it was one of those rare moments in which Tony's fuse was lit.

You'd never think that Tony had emotions when you first met him, other than being aroused. He is always ready, always relaxed, always cracking jokes and letting things slide by like rain rolling off his back. This is who Tony is. Tony is the agent who keeps things from falling apart. Tony is the one who reminds all of us that it's not quite the end of the world. Yet. Gibbs may be the father of our team; but Tony is the big brother. The amazing, fiercely protective, brave older brother who lets nothing touch the ones he loves.

There is so much he holds back. So much that persons on the outside do not see. So much that eats away at him every single day of his painful life.

I thought of him as naïve, and unready. Now, I see every glint in his eye, every twitch of his mouth before he dives into another joke. There is so much more to Tony.

How can I tell you what he is really like? How can I describe that deeply buried wisdom that I am so honored to say he shares with me? How can I explain that way he looks at me, that look that says I see you, I know you?

So often I am ready to spring into action, beat someone up or shoot someone or what have you, and with one look Tony tells me, Not yet. I cannot count the times Tony has saved us from getting too serious, or making the wrong move. Tony has a talent that few can claim; he knows when it matters.

There are no words. There is nothing to describe this thing, this man Tony is. He is the unknown, less so than before, but still the unknown to me. He is like the animal mysteriously injured without a vet for miles, but who still keeps plodding along. I have never seen a man I cannot help. I have never met a man that leaves me feeling so helpless. I have never seen someone who can bury things so deep.

This night, this horrible moment at NCIS, is the time I chose to get the answers. He was angry; his armor was cracked. This may have been my last chance.

So I cornered him in the hall, the path leading to interrogation. I blocked his path. He tried to move around me and I moved with him. He let out a puff of air.

"Move," He said tiredly. I did not move. I stared at him and forced the memory of what happened last time I tried to do this to stay away.

"Ziva. Don't," He's making that face that I rarely see, that face when he's truly angry, when his mouth hardens into an unmovable line.

I raised my eyebrows. "Are you going to push me?" I asked calmly.

He clenched his jaw. "No. Get out of my way,"

I didn't. I stalled by staring, trying to think of where to start.

"Ziva, if you're trying to take this moment to ask me something deep and powerful, I don't have the time." He growled. I was not scared of him.

But I was scared that I was wasting his time. I didn't remember exactly what I wanted to say. All the words I chose so carefully were falling apart in my mind until I remembered…

There are no words.

So I realized I had to do what we've done for each other ten thousand times since I met him… I had to save him from himself.

And then I took his hands in mine.

I could tell by his eyes he was about to lose it, so I took a mental deep breath and moved forward. I wrapped my arms around his waist and put my chin on his chest so I was looking up into his eyes. I had to make him forget what he was about to do. I had to make him remember that it wasn't the end of the world, yet. I had to remind him that there were more important things to take care of.

It was so wrong. I knew from the beginning if anything were to happen, he should be the one to make the first move. Tony is a delicate person, believe it or not. I didn't want to move too quickly.

So I re-wrote my plan in my head and I slid my hands up to his neck and let them sit there gently.

"Tony," I said softly. "You belong with us," And then I kissed him, right on the lips, and it was that feeling I'd felt once before, in a hotel room... It was right and wrong and exciting and painful all at once. I remember having a fleeting thought that I should ask Tony what a word for this would be.

Then I pulled away and I brushed past him in the same direction I'd been going and pretended like it'd never happened, like we always do.