A/N: 'Afternoon!

So there was a bit of confusion as to why Ziva was apologizing in the last chapter, so I'll explain: Ziva left without a word, without a trace. After everything they'd been through, her coming and leaving and after all of the secrets and betrayal they all dealt with in the previous five years together, it hurts. Gibbs and Tony feel as if she owes them answers, answers she never gave until it come to a smashing ultimatum with the Secretary, and we all know how they feel about cover-ups. They do, however, know what she did was the right thing, that she was trying to do something good, and that knowledge, that idea will eventually lead them to a much better place. Yeah, it doesn't entirely make sense, but a person walks out of your life one day and walks in again five years later? It's tough to sort out the feelings, the thoughts. They feel torn for now, but they'll try.

Today's chapter was really interesting to write. We get another flashback to what happened when she left, and I think it's kind of, well, interesting. It'll be continued in the next chapter. These are actually a couple of my favorites, so it's fun stuff right here.

Enjoy!

Autumn"The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you can see." --Winston Churchill


The following Monday, Tony returned to his work calmly, much more calmly than he had in five years. Usually he would be overly agitated or far too quiet, or tease McGee more than necessary, but they all let him. They all understood. Tony and McGee were like brothers, and they worked well together, and his relationship with Abby had always been a sweet one. They were a family.

But Ziva… Things with her had always been different, and everyone knew it. They had always been closer, mentally, physically—in every way, the connection was so obvious, sometimes they thought if they might just reach out, they'd be able to touch it. But it was like a rainbow, born out of a fiery storm, and eventually, all rainbows disappear.

Today, Tony was alone in the squadroom, and his mind began to drift.

Tony tapped his desk nervously.

"You worried?" McGee asked.

Tony scoffed. "Of course not."

"She's two hours late. She hasn't been that late since--"

"Yeah, since the Iranians tried to frame her. I remember, McArchive."

"Then stop fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting!" he gave a nervous laugh but his eyes moved to her desk once more.

"You call her?" McGee asked, though he knew the answer.

"Uh, yeah. A few times." Seven, actually.

"Did it ring or go straight to voicemail?"

"Straight to voicemail," Tony replied, more thoughtfully now.

"So it's probably off. Maybe her battery died."

"Okay, but then why isn't she here with her dead battery? Ziva's never late."

"Maybe she missed her alarm."

"It wouldn't matter if she did. She's been getting up at four AM for like, twenty years—I'm pretty sure she can't help it even if she tried."

McGee sighed and returned to his paperwork from their latest case. "Just call her again, I'll try and trace it."

"You said it was probably off."

"Maybe I can get the last known location? I don't know, just cool it. Maybe I can figure something out," he said as he pulled up the appropriate program on his computer.

Tony dialed her number—speed dial #2—and waited for her to pick up.

"You have reached Special Agent Ziva David. Leave your name and number and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can," her calm, steady voice spoke. It was so very straight to the point, so very her. It beeped and he began his message.

"Hey, it's Tony. Ziva, where are you? Are you okay?" he said, turning away from McGee, speaking softly into the phone. "It's been two hours… Just, call me back when you get this, okay?"

He hung up and sat back in his seat, gazing off at hers like he had done the summer before, the summer she had been left behind. It gave him an unsettled feeling in his gut, one he could hardly tolerate. "Anything, McGee?" he asked, his eyes not moving.

"Nothing."

Tony nodded.

Without thinking, Tony dialed her new number. She only gave it to him last night, but he already had it memorized.

"Hey," he said when she answered.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, hi, I, ah…"

"I'm in a class right now," she said, but he could hear her smiling.

"Right, yeah. Um, I just wanted to… I just wanted to say hi, and thanks for the coffee, from the other day."

Back at Allegro Prepatory, Ziva turned away from her students, whose necks were craning to the see the teacher who never spoke of family, friends, or loved ones, much less blushed during a phone call. "You're welcome… Listen, I have to get back to my students," she said, rolling her eyes at the snickers. "But we could get coffee after school or something. About four? That new place on the corner of K Street?"

Tony smiled to himself. "That sounds good. Mostly paperwork today."

"Good luck with that," she chuckled a little. "See you then."

"Promise?"

Ziva's brow furrowed. "Of course."

"Alright then, see you there."

Ziva hung up the phone and smile to herself as she turned back to her class.

"Who was it?" a student asked.

"It was no one," she assured them quickly.

"You blushed," a girl in the front row said skeptically.

"It was an old friend," Ziva explained.

"Good friend," another smirked.

"Yes. He saved my life on… more than one occasion."

"What'd he do?" Jane asked from her seat.

Ziva looked at her, this innocent girl, these students, minds so naïve and unknowing. She was lucky—most of them were good kids, kids who genuinely wanted to do well in life. She couldn't. They deserved better. "Never mind that. And anyone who mentions this again will have to write a two thousand word essay on the principles of the Constitution. Understand?" she said, giving the group a look.

They nodded briefly and moved silently back to their books, but Ziva caught several giving one another glances. She shook her head and picked up her teachers textbook and began where she left off.


Ziva sat beside Tony on a bench, the world quietly humming around them. Each held a cup of fresh coffee, and each mind held so many questions.

Tony looked at her as she gazed off. She caught him and smiled suspiciously. "What?"

"Why teaching?"

"Teaching?"

"Yeah, why teaching? Why not pick something you didn't have to go to college for, for something you already had the skills for, like… I dunno, why not go work for the CIA? Why not get a spot at the Pentagon or, I don't know, something else?"

Ziva nodded and looked down at her hands briefly. "It was here," You were here. "And… I do not know. I don't think I could have done something so similar to what I did before with the team, with, just everything. It would hurt too much."

He looked at her. "I get it, I think… Why history, then?"

"Studying for the citizenship test sparked my curiosity. The United States has such a unique founding—it was for the people, but the people. It would be a place of justice and equality and--"

"Freedom?" he asked, knowing her oh so well, even ten years later. It almost made her shiver, how he read her so transparently.

Ziva nodded as their eyes held together. "Freedom."

Tony sighed contentedly and put his arm over the back of the bench. "Well, Miss American Dream, glad you got yours."

She eyed him. "You should come."

"Come?"

"Come to class some time… Think of it as an olive tree. I think you'd get along very well with some of the students."

"I see American college has done nothing for your American idioms—the term is 'olive branch'. And by students, you mean the attractive, popular ones?" he grinned.

She hit him on the arm playfully, and it felt a little like it used to. "With the trouble makers."

"Ha!" he laughed. "So, Miss David, who were you in high school?"

"Who?"

"What group did you fit into? Cheerleaders?" he looked at her and shook his head. "Not shallow enough. Geeks? Eh..."

Ziva smiled. "Things are slightly different from where I come from, Tony. We had one group that America most definitely does not."

"Which is?"

"Those destined to become killers—for good, and not."

"And which were you?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Good. Or at least, I thought so."

"Didn't work out like you hoped it would, did it?"

She shook her head a little. "Not exactly. But… It brought me here."

He smiled at her. "Yes it did."