A/N: Thank you everyone for all your wonderful reviews and suggestions. I am blown away and humbled by how many of you have chosen to follow my story. This chapter is really short but I am almost done with the next and I promise the next few will be longer. A big THANK YOU to Zivacentric for your help and continued encouragement. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that everyone has a very happy and safe New Years Eve.

Chapter 4

Ziva stepped onto the landing making eye contact with him as he looked up at her. Her face was expressionless but her eyes told him all he needed to know. They were the one thing they both knew she couldn't disguise, at least not with him and at the moment they revealed the intense inner fight she was having with her self.

Not saying a word, she broke eye contact and slowly turned and started to make her way down the stairs. As she descended each step one at a time, Gibbs was almost certain she was going to turn around and leave. This was something new to him and he was growing more and more uneasy as he watched her. True, she had always struggled with opening up and seeking comfort, but he had never seen her struggle this much before, at least not with him and it was making his gut uneasy. She had been keeping her distance lately, that much he was sure of. It had been over a month since she had last been in his basement and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more driving her to stay away then just her desire to not want to open up. He didn't have a clue as to what it was and not knowing was wearing on his mind.

When she reached the bottom, Gibbs cleared some of his tools off the chair by his workbench to make a place for her to sit. As she passed him he handed her his unfinished beer. Her fingers brushed his as she took it. He inwardly flinched at the unexpected touch, but didn't allow it to show outwardly. He picked up his tools and continued working.

He finally broke the silence a while later when he asked, "Want to talk about it?"

She silently shook her head as the first tear rolled down her cheek. That one tear however spoke volumes to him. It said more than a night spent talking could of. He put his tools back down, wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way over to her.