Ziva stood before the dark cherry coffin. The guests had already left, but Ziva couldn't bring herself to leave. Gibbs and McGee stood several feet away, patiently waiting for her. They understood. They always did.

Ziva wasn't sure how long she stared at it. It was one he would have approved of—classic, elegant, manly. Roses graced the top where guests had left them solemnly. The morning had been glorious, the sun shining brightly through the small, cool breeze which soft, wispy clouds in the sky. The service had been beautiful and simple.

In her hand she gripped a lily of the valley, like one she would have had in Israel. Finally, she carefully placed it on the casket. It stood out from the rest of the flowers, just like her. It was almost like sending him a message. Tony would have smiled if he could see it. She was out of tears, but her heart ached with a pain she'd never known.

McGee stood with Gibbs silently as they watched the young woman say goodbye. "She's lost a lot," Gibbs commented quietly. "Too much,"

The days seemed to pass slowly now. The squadroom was quieter. Another agent had joined the team, and McGee was now Senior Special Agent. He did the job well, but both he and Ziva knew it just wasn't the same. Every day they would ask Gibbs for an update on Tony's case, and every day they were disappointed to find that there was none to give. People stopped giving condolences, though sometimes Ziva could feel them watching her as she walked by.

Tony's desk remained unoccupied, and his belongings, all that was left of him, stayed in their places, from his Mighty Mouse stapler to the copies of paperwork on his desk. The new agent, Agent John Jennings, was given the cubicle at the far end of the bullpen. As a Probie, he didn't really seem to mind, but he didn't understand why they wouldn't clean off DiNozzo's desk and give it to McGee. McGee didn't even seem to care, and now and then he saw the other members of the team gazing at it, even if for a moment.

For the first couple of months, Gibbs caught himself from calling Tony's name to give him instructions, but after awhile, he appeared to grow used to Tony's absence, but Ziva and McGee knew that wasn't true.

But even Vance seemed to no longer the agency's best man. Everyone was moving on except for the team. They continued to solve high profile cases as they did before. Jennings was capable and competent; a quick learner. He was quiet but a hard worker and excellent investigator. But things weren't the same.

Ziva sat in the break room. A book was open in her hands, and some fruit in a small bowl was before her, forgotten.

"Hey," Tim said as he walked into the room. The day was an especially slow and they had been working through piles of paperwork for hours. They were now taking a break for lunch, but Ziva wasn't very hungry.

"Hello," Ziva said with a small smile. It quickly disappeared as her eyes turned to the vending machine. She sat there silently remembering a conversation she and Tony had once had about soulmates. He didn't get it, and she told him so. All those years of hinting at him, trying to tell him… It hadn't worked, and now it was too late. Tears stung her eyes but she quickly blinked them away.

Tim saw her staring at it. He saw the glimmer in her chocolate brown eyes. "Ziva, it's going to be okay,"

She was quiet for a moment before turning to him. "Is it?"

"I'm sorry,"

"He was murdered, McGee. That is not okay. We could know who did it long ago. And since when does Gibbs follow Vance's instructions not to investigate? Especially when it concerns a team member?"

"I don't know, Ziva. We've all changed,"

"I am not sure I like this change,"

"No one does,"

"Everyone seems to be fine with it. It is like he never existed. There's only a few people who even remember him now,"

"You have to move on. We all do,"

"It does not mean we have to forget,"

"Listen, Ziva, I know you cared about him. We all did,"

Ziva looked down. "I didn't just care about him," she closed her eyes. "I loved him," Her voice was barely a whisper.

McGee sighed. His suspicions had finally been confirmed, after all those years. "That's what I thought,"

"And now he is dead. Just like everyone else I love,"

"What about the rest of us? We're still alive, we're still here. You can't forget about the living either, Ziva,"

That was a shot to the heart. "You are right. I am sorry," Ziva apologized.

"You don't need to apologize,"

"But you just said… You are right. It is a sign of weakness, yes?"

"Not this time," He sighed again. "Not this time."

Jethro walked down the familiar steps of his basement. The scent of sawdust filled the air, and something else, something sweet. He would have reached for his gun if he hadn't recognized the perfume.

"Hello, Gibbs," Ziva said, turning on the light in the corner. She was sitting on an old barstool, knife in her hands, mindlessly turning it.

"Ziver," He said. He walked over to her.

"Why have we not investigated it?" Ziva didn't need to say what it was. Gibbs would know.

"Vance,"

"And since when do you follow Vance's orders?" He chuckled, ever so slightly as he poured himself a glass, well, jar of bourbon. "He was murdered and you haven't even looked into the case files. It is like everyone is trying to forget him,"

"Why would we do that?"

Ziva shrugged. "You tell me," Gibbs just stared at her, not answering. She was quiet for a few more minutes. "For months, everyone has been telling me, 'It will be okay.' But you haven't. Why not?"

Now it was Gibbs' turn to shrug. "Because it won't," Ziva looked at him. "You'll live the rest of your life waiting for the day when you wake up and it is okay. You'll live every moment with that ache inside. It's not gonna change,"

Ziva nodded. "Figures," She said quietly.

"That doesn't mean you'll never be happy again. Never find… love,"

She looked at him again, confused. "How…?"

"You can't honestly tell me that it wasn't obvious because it was. Now more than ever," He said as he picked up a piece of sandpaper. He walked over to his unfinished boat and began to work. He picked up a second piece and offered it to her. Ziva stood and took it, following in suit.

"I suppose you are right… He drove me crazy," She said with a small laugh.

"DiNozzo had a talent for that,"

"He had talent in a lot of things,"

"He was a heck of an investigator, I'll give him that," Gibbs commented.

"After the first time he died, well, when we thought he did, I had nightmare for weeks. Nightmares about him actually being in the car, dying," Ziva shook her head. "And now I get to live through that nightmare again, every day,"