It had been a fortnight since Ziva had first realised someone had been in her home. On Saturday, for the first time, it had just stopped and now, three days later, Ziva was able to relax and feel less distracted. Sighing contentedly she entered the bullpen only to have a scrunched up ball of paper bounce directly off her head.

Tony gulped as he realised that one of his balls in his game of baseball using a ruler and with McGee as a target, had gone slightly off course.

Ziva, after depositing her bag, spun slowly around, her eyes glinting ruthlessly at Tony who instinctively stepped back. Oh boy.

'Tell me Tony, why do you always have to act like such a donkey's butt?

'Um...I think you mean horse's...'

But he trailed off nervously as by this point Ziva's beautiful face was mere centimetres away from his. For a brief moment he fantasised what it would feel like for him to kiss her and to feel her warm hands enveloping his face in a tight embrace but this was interrupted as she grabbed his shirt and from nowhere, brandished a paper clip.

'I would be very careful Tony.' She spoke menacingly, her chocolate eyes staring into his green and with that said, she released him and marched back to her desk, however not before she had grabbed the remaining balls and had thrown them into the shredder. She smirked slightly at McGee's laughter.

'Well Tony, looks like those balls of yours got shredded.'

'At least I have balls, Mcballess unlike...' Before Tony could finish he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head as Gibbs slapped him. 'Shutting up now boss.'

'Glad to hear it DiNozzo. Now gear up- dead marine!'

The trio scurried after their leader to the elevator, Ziva smirking at Tony as they did. He shot an annoyed look at her but deep down he didn't mind. After Somalia these moments of banter were rare and to see Ziva have a laugh despite his pain was worth everything.

Soon they were busy at the crime scene located in a park, interviewing witnesses, collecting evidence and examining the body. Tony walked over to Gibbs, 'Hey boss, witnesses heard a gunshot and saw the victim on the ground but didn't see the perp.'

'I've got an ID Jethro', Ducky said as he crouched next to the body, passing the victim's wallet up to Gibbs.

'Vic's name is Sergeant Tamir Asif, translator at Norfolk. Ziva' he called her over, 'get back to HQ, find out what you can.'

'Right away Gibbs.'

'So what do you have Duck?'

'Well Jethro, judging by the liver temp, TOD appears to be around about an hour ago.'

'That's consistent with eyewitness accounts', Tony added.

'Cause of death is consistent with close proximity gunshot wound, 9mm I'd say. There are some casings over there.' He gestured with his hand and McGee quickly bagged and tagged. 'He looks to have been shot execution-style. Whoever did this, Jethro, was trained and targeted Asif for a particular reason. I think you may be looking for a professional.' The Scot deduced, looking up to the team leader.

'Right got it Duck. McGee take the evidence and the bullet casings to Abby. Tony, find out what you can about what Asif was doing in this part of town.'

'On it Boss.' The three walked away from the crime scene just as Ducky began to tell Palmer another of his stories.

'You know Mr Palmer, this reminds me awfully of Hamish Lark's drunken escapade in Princes Street Gardens when we were students...'

Once back at NCIS, the team were busy working the case. Tony rounded the corner, coming to stand beside Ziva and Gibbs who stared at the plasma. 'Where's Elf Lord?'

'Down with Abby.' Ziva answered quickly.

'What have you got DiNozzo?' Gibbs barked gruffly.

'According to Sergeant Asif's neighbours every morning he would have a run through the park so that suggests that Asif was surprised by his killer and that they knew his routine.'

'Tell me about Sergeant Asif Ziva.'

She clicked the remote and the plasma came up with his military report. 'Second generation Syrian; his parents emigrated here in the 60s. He's 34 years old, only child. He was never married, no children. Has an excellent service record- three tours of duty in Iraq. He is assigned as a translator in Norfolk working with sources on the ground in the Middle East.'

'So our dead Sergeant was a Muslim, worked as a translator and was killed with a single bullet to the chest, execution-style. You two find me anyone with a grudge against Asif.' He ordered as he walked briskly towards the elevator.

Moments later Gibbs entered Abby's lab, a Caf-Pow clutched in his hand. He was about to speak but stopped suddenly on seeing McGee and Abby holding hands and laughing about something. Hearing him at the door, they quickly broke apart, their faces turning red as they blushed. 'Uh hey Gibbs...' Abby spoke nervously, 'That for me?'

'What do you have Abs?' Gibbs said staring at her for a moment intently causing her and McGee to redden even more.

'I ran the fingerprints and DNA found at the scene- they all belonged to Sergeant Asif and I also ran ballistics which came back conclusive with the Duckman's findings. I'm still waiting on one result to come back which is the fingerprint analysis of one of the bullet casings Timmy...I mean McGee found at the scene.'

'What do you have McGee?' Gibbs now focused his ice blue eyes on his agent who carefully avoided his.

'Well boss I ran Asif's phone records and there are no suspicious phone calls. However he did make a long distance call to his aunt in New York but that is a regular occurrence- he phones her and his uncle every week.'

'That all you have then?' Gibbs asked clearly annoyed.

'Gibbs...we have something' Abby put in nervously, 'We have a marine who phones his elderly aunt and uncle every week I think that counts for something.'

Gibbs glared at her, 'Abs...'

'Ok that's all we have.'

Gibbs sighed frustrated and turned around and was about to walk away when Abby's computer screens beeped with a hit.

'Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs! We got something!' Abby smiled triumphantly and suppressing a smile, Gibbs turned back to her and his agent.

'Oh this is not good...' Abby's voice trailed off.

'What is it?' McGee asked.

'The finger print analysis came back with a hit on a Muhammad Farouk who is on eight different 'Most Wanted' lists including ours, the British and the Israelis for being a member of Hamas. Gibbs, Sergeant Asim was murdered by Hamas.'

It took a moment for Gibbs to process this information but once he did he ordered McGee and Abby to keep searching for any leads on Farouk and his current whereabouts. As he left the lab and walked into the elevator he could not suppress a small smile at the thought of McGee and Abby. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken.

Once upstairs he ordered Tony to find out what connection Asim had with Farouk or Hamas and Ziva was dispatched to talk to any old contacts she still held from her Mossad days to try and find out what they could about Farouk.

It was almost twenty four hours non-stop work and no sleep before Tony and Gibbs tracked Farouk Muhammad to an old dilapidated hotel in DC and brought him into custody. Surprisingly he had put up little resistance but Ziva knew that it was because his mission had been completed successfully and therefore his job was done.

She stood in silence, next to McGee and Tony in observation, studying the terrorist who sat in front of them. The terrorist looked to be in his early forties; the grey flecks through his black beard and hair giving his age away. His eyes were dark and cold, showing that he had seen and inflicted so much terror in his life. Farouk sat relaxed, his eyes staring straight ahead as he had been taught in training.

For a moment Ziva felt a thrill as she was reminded of her old life and the power she used to wield over men like him. She felt a confidence stir in her that she had not felt in a long time. She was broken from her thoughts by Gibbs entering the room. 'Ziva with me.' Silently she obeyed, secretly happy at having been chosen. Finally she was getting back to normal. Tony and McGee exchanged looks but dared not question Gibb's decision, instead turning to watch the interrogation. Oh boy! Tony thought to himself.

Ziva and Gibbs walked into interrogation room, slamming the door behind. Farouk looked to them, his eyes lingering just slightly too long on Ziva, Tony noticed.

'You send a woman to interrogate me?' He rolled his eyes, 'Americans.'

'Perhaps you have underestimated this woman.' Ziva spoke in Arabic, her eyes glinting menacingly. Farouk's eyes widened in shock as Ziva spoke.

'Why did you kill Sergeant Asif?' Gibbs leaned across the table, his tone cold.

Farouk ignored him, instead staring at Ziva intently.

'I suggest you answer the man!'

'I will not have a woman conduct this interview; particularly an American woman.' His voice betrayed a hint of disgust at that.

Gibbs chose to ignore this and continued; 'Why did you kill Marine Sergeant Asif?'

'I said I will not answer questions in front of this American infidel woman!' He glared icily at Ziva who glared just as icily back at him. 'You will get answers, officer, once that woman leaves the room.'

'Agent David will not be leaving this room.' Gibbs replied coldly.

'David', the man said out loud staring at Ziva deeply. Gibbs' gut began to tell him that it was not such a good idea after all to have Ziva interrogating.

This time Ziva spoke, but in Arabic; 'Why did you kill Sergeant Asif? Why was Hamas so interested in him? Answer me or I will make you talk!'

'I will not answer to a woman', he swapped languages as he continued 'particularly to a Jewish woman'.

'Whether you like it or not this is America and I will be conducting this interview, now answer the question: why did you kill Sergeant Asim?' Ziva clenched her fist as her question went unanswered and so she tried a different tactic.

'You think you are doing yourself any favours by staying quiet? Do you think you will earn the approval of your brothers? You are nothing but scum who brutally murder women and children in the name of your religion!'

'You do not insult my religion!' Farouk shouted, straining the handcuffs as he leaned forward.

'No it is you who insult your religion, not I!' Ziva replied calmly.

Farouk roared in English at Ziva 'Shut your mouth you Jewish whore!' He violently spat on her and his hand, which he had pulled out of his handcuff, connected to the side of her face.

In that minute, the world seemed to stop for Ziva as she was taken back to her cell in Somalia where Saleem and his men stood over her, spitting on her broken body as they taunted her with the cruellest of words. She let out a pained moan as she fell to the ground shaking uncontrollably.

'You Jewish whore!' One shouted.

'Black eyed Jew!' Another also yelled.

'You filthy scum!' A guard spat.

And then Saleem appeared, crouching down beside her; his words still pierced her, even now.

'Nobody is coming for you, not NCIS, or your other friends, not Mossad, not even the great Director David is coming to save you. You are all alone. Nobody cares about you. You are too worthless to be loved.'

Ziva let out another agonized moan just as someone crouched next to her, placing their hands on her cheeks, speaking comfortingly to her although her mind could not process it.

The minute Ziva had been struck; Tony had raced out of observation and into interrogation running instantly to her side as she fought one of her panic attacks she had been prone to since Somalia. McGee and some security personnel had run to help Gibbs in securing Farouk and escorting him out the room. As they did, he could not keep his eyes off of Ziva, a look of cruel curiosity present on his face.

'GET HIM OUT OF HERE!' Gibbs roared as he turned to look at Ziva who still sat on the floor shaking uncontrollably as Tony tried to penetrate her trance.

'Tony how is she?' He asked quietly, coming over.

'It's fine boss. I've got her. Go with that bastard.'

Gibbs silently nodded knowing that just now Tony was what Ziva needed. That was a strange thought to think- that the strong, brave Israeli would need school-boy, emotional Tony DiNozzo to comfort her but he knew the connection his agents shared and he knew that Tony was the only one able to get through to Ziva.

Now alone in the room, Tony turned back to Ziva, stroking her cheeks and head, trying to calm her. 'Ziva? It's me Tony. It's alright, it's just a flashback, Saleem is dead. Gibbs killed him. He cannot harm you. Ziva please?'

Hearing his voice, Ziva began to calm down and her eyes focussed and she turned her head towards Tony. 'Tony?'

'Yeah Zeev, it's me. It's alright.'

'Farouk?' She asked looking around the room.

'Gibbs and Tim took him away. You won't ever have to see him again. You're fine-nobody will let him harm you again!'

'Thank you Tony', she spoke quietly but then froze as she realised his hands were still resting on her arms.

'I am...I'm going to have to...' She quickly stood up and before Tony could stop her she had pushed him out of the way and had run out of the room.

'Ziva wait...'

Tony followed close behind but stopped when Ziva ran into the ladies room.

Tony sighed before he knocked on the bathroom door. 'Zeev?' He called gently before pushing open the door.

He heard someone gagging and quickly he ran to the far cubicle where Ziva was slumped over the toilet, retching, her abnormally pale face covered in beads of sweat. Tony had never seen her so helpless. Crouching behind her, he lifted her hair out of her face as she continued to heave deeply into the bowl and rubbed soothing circles on her back. Once she had finished he stepped back allowing her privacy to clean up. After doing so, she stepped around him and went to the sink to throw water over her face. She spoke as she did.

'Why are you here Tony?' Her voice was quiet and flat as though she no longer cared about anything.

'Because I'm worried about you. The Ziva David I know would have fought back had someone dared to hurt her like Farouk just did.'

Ziva stared at him through the mirror as he spoke and then she wiped her face one last time before she turned around.

'Perhaps I am no longer the Ziva you know.'

Tony took a step towards her but stopped as she flinched involuntarily. 'The words Farouk spoke to you and his actions...' He paused unsure whether to continue but did so anyway, 'Saleem said that in Somalia didn't he?' He finished quietly.

For a moment the tension in the bathroom was unbearable as they stared at each other desperately trying to read each other's thoughts. Eventually the silence was broken by a quiet 'Yes.'

'Oh Ziva I'm so sorry...' he began but was interrupted.

'The physical pain I could handle but not the mental. My training never prepared me for how to deal with the personal cruel taunts. Saleem said things; horrible things that I have tried to forget and today Farouk brought them all back to the surface of my mind.'

'What sort of things?' Tony asked softly.

Ziva took a deep breath; 'He told me that...that no one was coming for me-not my father, not Mossad, not NCIS, not even you.'

For the first time in years Tony had no idea what to say. And then finally he spoke, 'Zeev, I'm sorry.'

'No Tony', she stepped forward, placing a hand on his cheek, 'It is I who am sorry'.

'No Zeev, I will never live with the fact that it took so long to rescue you.' He placed his hand on her cheek in return, his eyes filled with unshed tears at the guilt he felt for not coming sooner for the woman he cared for so much.

'I did not expect anyone to come; least of all you after all that I did to you but I am thankful that it was you who saved me.'

'Of course I would come, we're partners.'

'Thank you Tony.' She whispered her eyes never leaving his, a small spark of life having just returned to them. She took his hand off her cheek and kissed it before reaching up to his cheek to kiss it also. 'Thank you.' And with that she turned and walked out of the bathroom. Tony stood frozen for a minute alone before he too walked away.

That night whilst Ziva slept, she dreamt not of Somalia but of Tony and the team. Because of the depth of her sleep, she was not aware of the man who picked the lock of her front door before silently letting himself in. He made not a sound as he walked to her room, stopping outside and inhaling softly before he entered.

The man stood in the shadows cast by the street lamp outside and watched as Ziva slept. Slowly he reached his hand out towards her hair but drew back suddenly as she turned over in her bed to now face him, giving a loud snort as she did. Suppressing laughter, he stood as still as a statue, allowing her to settle down before he reached out again, lightly stroking her forehead. He then leant down and gave her a small kiss, 'Sweet dreams akhyot khtana.' Silently he left the apartment, closing the door as quietly as possible. Ziva woke suddenly, sure she had heard the click of the front door but nothing stirred and so she went back to sleep.

So how did I do? And who is this mysterious man?

No updates for two weeks I'm afraid as I'm off to Italy but if anybody is reading this-I do have my doubts- then please review and tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading,

Angelhaggis