6x22 Legend Part 1

It had started off as a seemingly inconsequential argument where they both said things that weren't very nice and both ended up feeling irritated and hurt that the other one didn't understand what the big deal was, and suddenly it occurred to Tony that he and Ziva had barely spoken since yesterday morning. Still, he was sure they could work out whatever the problem was once they got home and had the chance to talk. Fights never lasted long enough with them for him to worry. So it never crossed Tony's mind that she would be bothered if he answered her phone while she was in the breakroom making herself some tea.

He stood up and moved to the other side of the bullpen. "Ziva David's phone."

A man with a discernable Middle Eastern accent replied. "Is Ziva there?"

Tony checked over his shoulder and nodded once. "Yeah, she's right here."

She came up behind him, brow furrowed, and he handed her the phone. "Sounds like someone from home."

Ziva took the receiver. "Hello?" Once whoever was on the other end answered, she switched to Hebrew. Tony picked up the odd word here and there, but the conversation was flowing too fast for him to follow along with the little Ziva and Nettie had been able to teach him so far.

She hung up and Tony leaned forward, the very picture of curiosity. "Who was that?"

They were no longer alone so Ziva didn't even look up. "None of your business."

"Long distance," he persisted, "long, long distance. Must've been important."

She shrugged. "Old friend."

His gaze narrowed. "How old?" When the question went unacknowledged, Tony pushed further. "How good a friend?"

When Ziva finally met his gaze, there was enough ice in hers to cause him no small amount of concern. "Why must you always be jealous every time I talk to another man?"

He feigned innocence. "What? I never-I'm not jealous."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not." Gibbs walked in and he cleared his throat. "I'm not arguing Boss." Since the first conversation of the morning between him and MCGee had been an argument about whether or not they were arguing, Tony felt it was a valid point of note.

Gibbs ignored him and announced the case of the day. While they grabbed their gear and got ready to go, Tony saw Ziva glance at her phone after one last sip of tea. He was dying for a few minutes alone to clear up whatever misunderstanding had her back up, but knew it wasn't likely. At the crime scene her hair was twisted into a bun to keep trace evidence to a minimum but she let it down when they returned to the office, only pulling the top part back, and it looked so soft he had to stop himself from running his fingers through the brown waves when he walked by.

Then a moment came when they were the only two in the room and Tony wandered over to sit on the edge of Ziva's desk, making the first move to build a bridge between them. "So, who was on the phone this morning?"

She sighed and stopped typing, recognizing his effort and trying to be cooperative. "Michael."

Searching his memory for the name, Tony found one from several months back and an explanation of the shirtless guy on the boat. "Ari's friend. The unofficial older brother."

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

She shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly without looking at him. "Just to catch up. We have not spoken in awhile."

"Huh." Tony crossed his arms. "Anything new at Mossad?"

Maybe he imagined it, but Tony was sure she stiffened a bit. Before her response was required, Gibbs came in with the news that he and McGee were headed to LA to meet with their California counterparts, leaving Tony and Ziva to follow up on the case from the DC end. Within minutes they were gone and Tony seemed crestfallen not to be chosen. Ziva studied his face. "I am surprised that you wanted to go, given our last encounter with Los Angeles."

Her tone was gentle, the words carefully chosen not to sound like an accusation, but Tony still felt the sting of the reminder. "I get the feeling they still don't trust me upstairs."

She shook her head. "Do not do that Tony, do not keep trying to take the blame for Jenny's choices."

He sighed. "I'm not. But I don't like being left behind."

You were not the only one," she pointed out, then her cell phone rang. Ziva checked the caller ID, glanced at her husband, and answered in Hebrew. As soon as the conversation was over, she stood and put on her gun. "Cover for me please?"

He turned around. "What? Where are you going? When will you be back?"

"Soon," she promised, rushing out.

The moment the elevator doors closed all four phones in the bullpen started ringing and Tony stood in the middle, feeling like this was some twisted version of Russian Roulette. He did his best to keep up, but not all calls were caught on time. Somehow he managed to get a bite to eat for lunch, then it occurred to him that he hadn't seen his partner for awhile and soon should have happened already.

Grabbing his cell, he flipped it open and hit speed dial one. Frustrated with being left alone, Tony was snippier than he needed to be when she finally picked up. "Hi, I'm not keeping you from anything, am I? Like work?"

Ziva glanced across the table. "I am...following a lead."

He frowned. "What kind of lead?"

She shrugged. "It might not come to anything."

Trying to figure out what was going on, he pressed. "Care to share?"

"Tony, I have to go." She hung up, leaving him wondering what the heck was going on.

Ziva frowned at her companion. "I do not like to lie to him."

Michael was unfazed. "A small lie." He looked into her eyes. "Your father sends his love."

She barely contained the snort of disbelief. "I am sure. What else does he send?"

Michael put his hand over hers, the familiarity born from a childhood spent growing up together. "Me."

Her posture softened. "I am glad to see you."

"It has been too long little Ziva. I promised your brother on my life that if anything happened to him I would look after you." He squeezed her fingers. "You are the only sister I have now." Anna, his adored baby sister, had died in the same bombing that killed Tali.

Ziva smiled. "I hardly need your protection now. It is my name, not yours, on the markmanship awards at Mossad."

"As a sniper few compare," Michael agreed, "but I wish you were closer to home."

There was little she could say that would not cause problems. "My assignment is here now Michael, I am following orders the same as everyone else."

"You think very highly of the people at NCIS." The observation appeared casual, but Ziva was on her guard.

"They are good people. I have learned much here."

His gaze sharpened. "Do not get too attached my friend, no assignment lasts forever."

Ziva's brow furrowed. "What do you know?"

Michael leaned back. "Nothing yet. But do not be surprised if your orders change. Israel needs you Ziva, you are too good to waste on these pompous Americans."

She forced a smile. "I will keep your warning in mind. But I must go, for now there is still work to be done."

Michael stood and kissed her cheeks, whispering, "No one is to know I am here Ziva, no one."

Ziva nodded and left, stopping at a magazine stand to purchase a weekly movie magazine her husband enjoyed, as well as a literature review for herself. She tucked the movie magazine inside hers, paused to scribble a note, and returned to work. She and Tony locked eyes when she walked in, but a minute shake of her head stalled the question he was about to ask.

Shrugging out of her coat, Ziva took the magazine over and laid it on his desk. "Page fifty-seven," she murmured, heading towards the breakroom.

Concerned now as well as curious, Tony leaned back and flipped to where she'd said. He scanned the article and in a sliver of white space found the words 'copy room'. Frowning because this cloak and dagger stuff was not usual, especially given that they were the only team members present, Tony left the magazine in a drawer, checked his watch and took a quick trip to the bathroom before grabbing some unimportant pieces of paper off Gibbs' desk and making his way to the copy room.

Looking around for witnesses, he slipped inside and locked the door. Ziva was pacing like a caged lion up and down the length of the room with enough emotion roiling off of her to caution him against getting too close. "Hey." Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "What's going on?"

Ziva's eyes darted this way and that like a nervous rabbit. "Michael is in DC, I was meeting him. I am sorry for the lie Tony, but he cannot know of us." She uncrossed her arms and picked up a pencil to fiddle with. "I will have to stay at the apartment tonight. It is lucky we are between tenants. Michael will likely be watching."

Tony swallowed and forced the words out. "Will he be staying there with you?"

Fire flashed in her dark gaze. "Do not be an idiot Tony. We are not lovers, nor have we ever been. We are friends, siblings, and he promised Ari that he would watch out for me, that is all." The pencil fell through her fingers and Ziva just stared at it dumbly.

Tony crossed his arms. "So what aren't you telling me?"

Shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans, Ziva returned to pacing. "He hinted at a change in orders, told me I belonged in Israel, that I was too good for America." She chewed on the inside of her lip. "I think my father sent them to check up on me, to look for a reason he could call me back."

Tony rubbed his face. "No way, Ziva. I've only had you back for six months. I'm not losing you again, I can't."

"We don't have a choice Tony!" she cried, frustrated beyond belief. "Do you think I want to leave? That I want to go back? Have you forgotten what happened last time?"

He ignored her last barb. "You never fight it when they want you back, so yeah, excuse me for thinking you maybe do want it."

Hurt pooled in her eyes. "How can you say that? My home is here, my life is here, I love you."

Tony's bitterness at the situation overruled the voice of reason in his head telling him to tread carefully and despite what she'd told him during the Michelle Lee case, he still blurted out his fears in sharp words. "I think you love Israel more."

He couldn't've landed a worse blow if he'd actually struck her and tears she refused to let fall came fast and hard trying to flood her eyes. How many times did she have to tell him that she wanted nothing more than to be with him, that he was everything she needed, that their life together was worth anything she had to give up? That he seemed determined not to understand that caused an ache in her heart and Ziva wanted to wrap her arms around herself as protection. She was vulnerable because she loved him, but he had never used it as a weapon before and she didn't know what to do.

"What do you want me to do?" Ziva demanded. "I have no rights here, I am not an American."

"But you could be!" Tony shot back. "It's been almost three years Ziva, you'd have no trouble applying for citizenship."

"And be what?" her voice rose, encouraged by all the emotion she didn't know what to do with. "A civilian? I am not an agent Tony. I belong to Mossad, not NCIS!"

"You belong to me!" Tony shouted, startling her with his choice of words. As if he only just heard himself, Tony stopped, raking his fingers through his hair. "With me," he amended quietly. "I meant that you belong with me."

Disbelief, among other things, coloured her next words. "I am no longer certain where I belong." Then, leaving that as her parting shot, Ziva pushed past him and walked out. Tony watched her go, utterly broken inside, unable to shake the feeling that they'd just lost something incredibly precious. And worse, he had no idea how to get it back.

NCIS

Ziva didn't come home that night. Instead she curled up alone in her dark, empty apartment, the windows open so a breeze gently teased the sheer curtains around her bed. She hadn't slept here in nearly three years, since she and Tony went home for the first time as a married couple. And tonight, hearing the echoes of their stinging words to each other, Ziva realized she hadn't felt this lonely since they were nearly seven thousand miles apart during a long and painful summer.

The fight was both of their faults, but she still ignored every text message and call from her husband, not ready yet to talk to him without feeling the hurt that had cracked her fragile trust in too many places hours earlier. The couple didn't speak until the next morning, when Ziva came into work late, having accepted Michael's invitation to breakfast at a small restaurant that served exclusively Middle Eastern food.

It had been a long time since she felt at home, sharing both food and language with another Israeli. They spoke of memories - Ari, Tali, the three of them on missions together, and rare days off where they usually unwound side by side. When Ziva finally checked her watch, the time surprised her and she quickly excused herself, but the damage was already done as she soon learned by Tony's sarcastic replies, though for a reason she could not make out, he still covered for her absence with Gibbs.

The very sight of his wife brought an ache that spread through Tony's whole chest and he remembered in an instant how much he'd missed her, how last night felt all too similar to the endless nights he spent on board different ships, longing for nothing more than to hold her again. They were civil to each other, and professional all morning, but by lunchtime Tony was done trying to make sense of the mess in his head and took the elevator to Autopsy to play in the team leader sandbox again for a few minutes.

Ducky recognized a motive behind his visit within moments, but Tony continued signing the report, trying to keep his emotions out of the conversation. It didn't work on the ME and finally Tony sighed. "Ziva."

"Ahh. Personal, not profession."

"It's not what you think," Tony clarified quickly. The last thing they needed was him asking questions or getting curious."

The older man simply smiled. "I'm not thinking anything. What are you thinking?"

"She's worried about something, on edge. She seems distracted."

The seriousness of his concern showed on the senior field agent's face. Ducky nodded, making an attempt to keep things light. "Yes, well, we all get distracted. Keep signing."

He glanced over. "Ziva ever talk to you about what things were like when Vance sent her back to Israel?"

Ducky shook his head. "Never. Though I can imagine it wasn't a very pleasant experience."

Tony's brow furrowed. "Why's that?"

The older man's piercing gaze met his own green eyes. "She was here for two years Anthony, to everyone in Israel she would have been as good as an outsider." He tapped his fingers on the table. "What does that have to do with Ziva's distraction?"

"Y'know, I'm probably overreacting," Tony practically interrupted. He signed the last sheet. "And look at that! Done and done. I'll see you later Ducky."

He breezed out of Autopsy and stood in the empty area in front of the elevator, thinking hard. Something was going on. Ever since that phone call yesterday morning Ziva had been cagey, secretive, nervous. Their fight in the copy room had left a raw would in both of them and spending nights apart for the foreseeable future would do nothing for the fences that desperately needed mending. And all because of Michael. Tony's jaw clenched and in that moment he decided to make a quick trip home. Once there he rifled through the shelves on Ziva's side of the office looking for a photo album she'd shown him once. Tony found it and the lone picture tucked in the back, the same one he'd found on her desk months ago. Feeling like he was betraying something sacred, he tucked the photo into his jacket pocket and returned to NCIS.

The afternoon was wearing on by the time he made his way down to Abby's lab. Her music was set relatively low for once and he approached her quietly. "Abs."

She jumped, then turned and socked him in the arm. "Use the elevator Tony! Gosh, I hate it when you guys sneak up on me like that." His grim expression registered and she instantly tensed. "What?"

Letting out a breath, Tony reached into his jacket and handed over the picture. "I need you to run facial recognition on this guy."

The man was clearly Middle Eastern and Abby bit her lip. "Does this have anything to do with Ziva?" He declined to answer so she scanned the photo into the database and started a search. It didn't take long before she got a match. "Michael Aaron Rivkin. Flew into DC two days ago." She lifted an eyebrow. "Is that the answer to the question I'm obviously not allowed to ask?"

Tony sighed. "Depends. Can you get me some more pictures?"

She shrugged. "It'll take some time."

He kissed her cheek. "Call me when you have something."

Abby crossed her arms. "Don't I always?"

Tony stopped at the door. "Not the team Abby, only me."

She shifted uneasily and nodded. "Okay."

Back in the squadroom Ziva was just hanging up the phone. "I have a lead."

He was a mite skeptical after the last time. "Really?"

"I found another case with similarities to ours. The suspects were two brothers."

Tony and Ziva ended up at a construction sight and each took one brother. Ziva laid the older one out with one punch while Tony chased the younger one up onto some scaffolding and got a confession while threatening to let him fall to his death. They now had a name for the guy who'd ordered the death of their young Marine - Liam.

NCIS

Once the brothers were down in lockup, Tony finally returned to his desk, rubbing his face and hoping it was almost time to go home. Then his phone rang. "DiNozzo."

"Lab, now," Abby ordered, and he knew his night was far from over.

She was waiting when he walked in the door. "I found something, but you're not going to like it." Bracing himself, Tony joined her at the computer and Abby pulled up a picture of Michael leaning over to talk in the window of a car with one Director David. His mouth went dry as he thought about Ziva's concern regarding changing orders. Abby fiddled with her dog collar. "He's with her father, Ziva's got to know him Tony."

Tony clenched his jaw. "You don't ask her. You don't breathe a word of this." Her wide eyed stare was not reassuring. "Abby." With a click of the mouse they watched the photo dissolve.

"Tony," Abby whispered.

He was adamant. "I mean it." Then he left to find his partner. They had to talk.

Ziva was heading out when Tony got back upstairs and he rushed to catch her, sticking his hand between the doors and taking his place beside her. "Thanks for holding that."

His sarcasm got her attention and Ziva breathed out. "We cannot be seen together. I do not know where Michael is or who might be watching."

Tony flicked the switch. "What's going on Ziva?"

The way she subtly shifted away and crossed her arms made his stomach drop. A sickening thought occurred to Tony, that Ziva was preparing herself for a break already, trying to keep him at a distance as if that would make the leaving easier should they be torn apart again. He reached out to touch her, but Ziva's body language practically screamed at him not to and for once he heeded the warning.

Swallowing hard, Tony stared at his wife. "When can you come home?"

Ziva rubbed her forehead. "I do not know. When I am sure Michael is back in Israel and not watching to see what I might be doing when no one else is looking." She sighed. "It is a good thing the new tenants cannot move in until the middle of the month, otherwise the secret would already be out." Then she squared her shoulders and set them back in motion. "Leave me alone Tony. Right now I am just your partner and I am going h-" Ziva stopped herself and wouldn't look at him. "I have to go."

The doors opened and she walked out, not looking back once. A terrible coldness gripped Tony's heart and he let the doors close him in again, tripping the emergency switch with trembling fingers. He leaned his forehead on the cool metal wall and tried not to hear her words playing over and over again. Two days ago they were happy, everything was fine, and their secret was safe. Now none of those was true and all Tony wanted was to turn back time before this mess began. More than anything else, he missed his wife.

6x23 Legend Part 2

Somewhere in LA shortly after lunch, G Callen was pretending to be Liam, which might have worked if the Middle Eastern man who showed up at the hotel room hadn't himself been playing the role. After a tense moment involving a blown cover and several guns being drawn, their mystery man revealed his identity and occupation, then used a name that caused too many questions for comfort in the minds of the DC team members.

NCIS

Since there was no one clocking him and no reason to hurry with their end of the case almost wrapped up, Tony came in late to the office, arriving with his coffee just as Ziva got off a call. She looked over. "Tony."

He considered her for a moment before losing a battle of wills with himself and respecting her request to play co-worker instead of husband. "Something up?"

She stood and moved away. "Gibbs."

His eyebrows rose. "He's back?"

"MTAC."

The brevity of her responses brought out his immature side. "Three one word answers, nice. Want to go for a fourth?"

There was not even a pause in her steady strides. "No."

"Okay, see, now that's just rude. Here I am trying to have a civil conversation and you're totally blowing me off." Tony followed her up the stairs, completely distracted by the way Ziva's shirt was falling off one shoulder and riding up at her hips, revealing smooth tan skin he wanted to touch, but was working hard no to, because in this mood he'd be risking life and limb and those injuries would be hard to explain to both bosses. They reached the catwalk and he cleared his throat. "Now I'm going to ask you a question that requires more than a one word answer. Are you ready?"

Ziva looked into the iris scanner and let them into the sealed room. Before Tony could think of something good to say, the tech announced that OSP was online. The picture came up of Gibbs in a room full of computers and surrounded by other people. "Ziva."

Something wasn't right, she could see it in his steely blue gaze. "Gibbs."

He looked at their computer expert. "McGee, put it up." A photo of Michael from yesterday's mission feed appeared in the corner. "You recognize him?"

Ziva studied the picture and didn't answer right away, her mind racing trying to figure out how they got his photo and what on earth Michael had to do with the case they were working on. His explanation of being sent by her father to spend his vacation time with an old friend was suddenly very weak. She could feel Tony's eyes on her and Gibbs' patience also was wearing thin. "Ziva," he barked.

She stood a little straighter. "Yes, I know him. His name is Michael Rivkin."

Gibbs studied her, watching for a lie. "Says he's Mossad."

"Yes," she supplied, "he is with Mossad."

Macy, far less trusting than Ziva's team, crossed her arms. "Anything else you can tell us about him Officer David?"

Having the title thrown in her face did not make Ziva feel like being cooperative. "No," she answered, "I have not worked with him in some time."

Something about her words didn't sit right with Gibbs. "We'll talk about this later."

She was embarrassed to be addressed that way in front of so many others, but simply nodded once. "Of course." The screen went blank and Ziva crossed her arms, refusing to look at her husband. "You did not think I would identify him." Tony opened his mouth to speak and her hard gaze focused briefly on him. "Not a question."

This scenario was going downhill fast and Tony was desperate to throw her a lifeline. "Anything you want to tell me?"

Ziva's lips pressed into a thin line. "No." She started to leave, throwing a parting shot over her shoulder. "One word answer, I win."

Tony stared after her, at a loss for how to get through the shell she was all to quickly building around herself, to protect her heart from whatever might be coming next.

NCIS

An unexpected call from McGee later as he tried to figure out, under the radar, how they got a match for Michael's picture so quickly, put Tony on edge almost immediately. "Two members of the terrorist cell we're tracking are dead after Michael Rivkin paid them a visit. Now he's dropped out of sight." McGee hesitated, hating the thoughts that were suddenly occurring to him. "Do you think there's any chance Ziva-"

"Don't ask that question," Tony interrupted, pacing around his partner's desk.

Tim swallowed. "Someone has to Tony."

Tony sighed. "I know McGee, I know. Leave it to me." He hung up and sat down, staring at Ziva's empty chair. Where are you Ziva? And what the heck is going on here?

When she got back from lunch, his wife seemed a little less tense than earlier. "What did I miss?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Oh, Abby playing with crayons, possibly blood, McGee calling, and I made a paper airplane that was so fantastic is broke the office gliding record. But really all the fun's happening in another time zone." Tony paused briefly, tightening his grip on the Mighty Mouse stapler in his hand. "Are we fighting?"

An image popped into Ziva's head of the two of them trading blows. They'd never physically fought each other, even for training, but she could use a good workout now to combat the thoughts in her head that just kept getting darker. She glanced up, unable to believe that he'd have to ask that question after their painful argument in the copy room earlier that week. She chose to keep her tone cool and impersonal.

"If we were, you would be on the floor, bleeding."

Tony blinked. "Okay, I accept that as a likely outcome." Her skills were not to be trifled with. "So you're just annoyed with me?" No answer. "Angry?"

Ziva huffed. "You should not be surprised."

But he was, in a way. "Because of this morning?"

Her tone sharpened. "You thought I would not identify Michael as a Mossad operative."

Tony went for innocent. "I didn't say a word."

Ziva's voice got louder. "You did not have to!"

He considered her agitation. "So you think you did the right thing?"

For a brief moment she seemed open to listening to reason. "You think I did not?"

Tony sighed and leaned forward. "Maybe you should've told them more, like how well you know him."

Her gaze narrowed. "That is none of their business."

"Like it was none of our business with Ari?" Tony wished he had more control over his tongue sometimes as he saw the jab hit home. He'd forgiven her too long ago to be bringing it up now.

Ziva's fingers curled into her palm. "What is your point?"

"You saw him when he was in DC three days ago. You didn't tell them when you had the chance and I'm just wondering why."

She pushed back from her desk and walked towards him. "Are you questioning my loyalty?"

Tony stood. "My question has nothing to do with loyalty Ziva. Why didn't you tell them he was here?"

Ziva crossed her arms. "Are you jealous?"

"No." Maybe a little. "I'm annoyed by the interference. I'm frustrated because you've changed since he showed up. And I'm worried because you don't seem to get that your friend is interfering with this agency's ability to shut down a terror cell."

"Interfering?" Ziva raised an eyebrow. "How is he interfering?"

Tony gave her a 'duh' look. "He's already killed two suspects. We need them alive to question Ziva."

"In my country that would be cause for celebration!" she retorted.

Tony was practically yelling now. "You're not in your country and neither is he!"

The truth of his words hit her like a slap in the face and she retreated to her own desk. "Are you finished?"

He hadn't yet realized his faux pas. "Yes."

"Good." Ziva sat and tried to calm down but at the moment she couldn't stand being around him and grabbed her stuff to leave. She wouldn't've gotten away with that if Gibbs was there, but Tony wasn't the boss.

"No." Tony changed his mind and followed her. "Do you know where Michael is?"

"No, I do not."

He tried to catch her backpack to make her face him, but she moved too quickly. "And if you did, would you tell me?"

Ziva stepped into the elevator and punched at a button. "No." She didn't trust him with Michael, didn't trust what he would do or say, didn't trust what Michael might see behind the partner facade. She let out a breath. "But I would tell Gibbs."

The door slid closed and Tony rubbed his face. From bad to worse in five point five minutes. Good going DiNozzo, way to win her back. He'd lost this battle and right now it looked like he was about to lose the war too. But he would go down fighting because even when they were acting like this, Tony still didn't know how to be without her. He finally returned to the bullpen and got back to work, but the mind numbing reports and forms weren't enough to drown out the voices of worry and fear, screaming at him from shadows in his head and heart.

The afternoon dragged on, made worse by the fact that Ziva was AWOL and still not answering any of his attempts to communicate with her. The rift between them was scaring Tony deeply, because even though they'd had their tense moments in the last three years, they'd never before gone this long without talking or trying to work things out. He entertained the fleeting thought of camping out in front of her apartment door until she either showed up or opened the door, but the nagging concern that they were being watched kept him from acting on it.

Darkness had fallen by the time Tony began packing up his things and when he turned around Abby was waiting by his desk. She glanced around uncertainly. "Hey, do you and Ziva want to go get a drink or something?"

Tony stared at his partner's desk and sighed. "She's already gone." He leaned back against the filing cabinet. "You do that thing I asked you to?"

Abby tried to seem optimistic. "Yup. Rivkin flew out of LA today, unescorted."

His eyebrows rose. "Destination?"

She bit her lip. "Tel Aviv. With a stopover...in DC."

The almost smile he'd begun fell. Michael was back and Ziva alone at her apartment. This just kept getting better and better.

NCIS

Ziva was getting ready for bed when she heard a knock on the door. She opened it with her cotton robe hanging loose over the shorts and tank top she wore for sleeping. Her gaze narrowed at the visit. "Michael."

"Ziva." When she didn't move, he lifted an eyebrow. "Can I come in?"

She crossed her arms. "First tell me why you are really here."

Michael glanced quickly up and down the hallway. "Not here."

Heaving a sigh, Ziva reluctantly stood back and allowed him to enter, then turned and fixed him with a stare. "The truth Michael, now."

He leaned on the closed door, deciding on his approach. "Why the hostility Ziva, are we not friends?"

Her hands clenched. "You were in LA Michael, you gave them my name. Now everyone is wondering about me, even Tony!"

Michael shrugged, unconcerned. "Perhaps they are not as loyal as you thought. True friends would not turn on you Ziva."

His words wormed their way through her slowly shattering trust for the people at NCIS and her shoulders sagged. "Do not tell me your mission, I do not want to lie to them any more." She sat on the arm of her couch. "Are you going back to Israel?"

"Not yet." Michael joined her, taking her hand. "I will stay a few more days, to be with you and talk about old times. After all," he grinned, "I am on vacation."

Ziva stood. "Mossad does not take vacations Michael, not anymore, and certainly not in America." She turned away. "I am going to bed. Lock the door on your way out."

"It is late Ziva, I cannot find a place to stay until morning."

Like she believed that for even a second. She waved her hand towards the couch, too tired to argue. "There are blankets and pillows in the closet. Good night."

"Laila tov," he repeated, listening to her steps down the hall and the sound of a door closing.

Eli had been right, something was going on here. Michael didn't know yet what had caused the change in this woman he knew so well, but perhaps it was time for her to cut ties with the Americans and return home, where she belonged. Ziva David, whether she realized it or not, was now part of his mission. In a few days things would change and then she would be on a flight to Israel with him, never to return. He owed her father that much.

Replies:

Karalyn (MIT6) - I'm glad to hear that :) lol, yeah, gotta soak up the fluff now because things are about to get very messy. Thank you, that's very nice of you to say. I'm glad you think so :) Oh man, everything that's coming next is quite painful and sad and hard to read. This is when knowing the future comes in handy, because at least we have a little hope. Thanks fo reviewing! :)

Sarah - you're welcome :) Hmm...that's a good point. I did hear something about the last four episodes being ones we didn't want to miss, so I hope waiting it worth it for the first two. Thanks. Yeah, the more I looked at it the more S6 because a season of T&Z always being separated, like they were totally leading up to what would happen at the end. I'm glad you liked the horse bit. Poor Tony is such a city boy! haha. Thanks for reviewing :)