I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed
(I could do most anything to you...)
Don't you breathe, something happened, that I never understood
You can't leave
Every second, dripping off my fingertips, wage your war
Another soldier, says he's not afraid to die, well I am scared
In slow motion, the blast is beautiful
Doors slam shut
A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away
Safe and sound

Somewhere a Clock is Ticking — Chapter Ten

It was really kind of annoying, the fact that the woman who had been shot was cleared for field duty before Tony. But when the order came down from Gibbs to grab their gear, Tony stayed grudgingly behind his desk while Ziva grabbed her bag, pausing for a moment too long to stare at Tony before hurrying after McGee and Gibbs.

It really kind of sucked. Tony knew, deep down, that he wasn't cut out for a desk job. But the idea of holding a gun in his hands still kind of sickened him. And without a gun, field duty would have been too stupidly dangerous — hell, even Ziva, with her far too high tolerance for dangerous situations, never would have tried it.

"Hi Tony!"

He looked up, smiling a bit when he saw Abby standing on the other side of the bullpen wall, grinning at him. "What's up, Abs?"

"Well, McGee informed me that you were up here by yourself, I figured you'd go nuts with no one but yourself to talk to." Tony rolled his eyes a bit before returning his attention to his computer.

"Tell McWorrywart he doesn't have to assign me a babysitter every time everyone leaves."

"McWorrywart. Not one of your better nicknames."

"Yeah, doesn't roll too nicely off the tongue, does it? I'll work on it."

Abby grinned for a moment before her smile turned soft. "How are you?" She asked, hesitating a bit. She felt as if she was opening Pandora's Box.

"I'm all right Abby. Really."

The Goth woman sighed. "You sound like Ziva." Crap. He did. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised though. You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately."

Good thing she didn't know about last night. Tony never would have heard the end of it. "Yeah, well…you know…" He faltered as he realized he really didn't have anything to say. "We're partners."

"So every afternoon you and McGee disappear to places unknown too?" Okay, so she had him there. "You know, Agent Barrett is gone."

"Yeah, she is."

"Are you and her going to try the long distance thing?"

"We broke up long before she left, Abs."

"Oh." Abby paused for a moment. "You know Ziva and her boyfriend broke up…"

"Abby I'm gonna stop you right there," Tony said as Abby's voice took on a suggestive tone. "Ziva's my partner. We work together. Remember rule twelve?"

"Yeah, yeah." Abby waved Tony's words off, rolling her eyes a bit. "You two looked pretty cozy in the elevator last week considering you're just partners."

"What about you and McGee?" Tony shot back, aggravated. "Couldn't help but notice you were clinging to him that night, anything there?" He was shocked when Abby's face reddened, just a bit. "Oh god…really?"

"I-It's not what you think!" Abby squeaked, her face burning red now. "The night M…Mike died, McGee said it didn't seem like a good idea for anyone to be alone, so we went back to his apartment. I was just going to sleep on the couch, but then I lied down and started crying, and I went into McGee's room, and he let me lie down with him, and next thing I knew it was morning. Then the next night I went to his apartment again because I was afraid to be alone and…I don't know, it just went on from there."

Tony's mouth was practically on the floor now. "Oh. Well then. Good for you and McGee. I'm happy for you both."

Abby's face couldn't have been any more red if she had tried. "Look, t-that's not the point. The point is, you and Ziva are finally in the same place at the same time, rule twelve be damned I think it's time you make something of yourselves."

Tony sighed as he leaned back in his seat. That was just the problem — they weren't in the same place. Ziva had a twisted mind. He could only imagine what she thought of everything that had happened between them since she'd been shot.

"Okay, so now you're probably making a whole list of excuses about why now isn't the right time." She was good. "You can't keep making excuses forever, you know. If you actually want be to with Ziva, you're going to have to make it happen."

Abby waited for a moment. When Tony didn't see anything, she walked away, shaking her head just a bit.

"Sure is quiet without Tony around, huh?"

…

"Ziva?"

…

Whap!

Ziva jumped a mile as Gibbs slapped her upside the head. "Still with us, David?" He asked as Ziva turned to look at him, blinking a bit. She looked dazed.

"Yes…sorry. I just…um…" She waved a hand, trying to figure out the word she was looking for. "Drifted off. Drifted, yes?"

"You got it," McGee spoke up as Gibbs walked away. "So how are you doing?"

"I am fine, obviously. I have been cleared for field duty, haven't I?"

McGee smiled just a bit, shaking his head. "I meant how are things going with you and Tony?"

"There is no me and Tony, McGee. There is me. And then there is Tony. Not much more to say about it past that." She had to keep telling herself that it was nothing. That Tony's attentiveness, his actions, were all a result of the guilt he still obviously felt. She had to tell herself that this — whatever it was — was going to end. Because there was just no other option.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"Since when have you taken it upon yourself to monitor who I spend my time with, McGee?"

Ziva had to give the man credit; he didn't instantly get defensive. But that was what was great about McGee, she supposed. He hardly ever took offense to things. "Just want you to be happy, Ziva. That's what you came here for, isn't it?"

A small smile pulled at Ziva's lips. "When did you get so wise, McGee?"

The young man shrugged, smiling as well. They returned to work in silence, Ziva snapping photos and McGee helping Ducky, who had just arrived, process the body.

It really was quiet without Tony around, Ziva reflected as she worked, feeling as if she was on auto-pilot. It didn't seem right without Tony, making his movie references, being his usual, obnoxious self. Ziva was surprised to find that she missed it.

It had been so comfortable the night before, falling asleep in Tony's arms. She didn't want to think about it too much, didn't want to ruin everything that had happened. But she knew eventually this was going to end. Tony would, whether he believed it or not, would eventually move on from the overwhelming guilt. He would find another EJ, or maybe even another — Ziva cringed at the thought — Jeanne. He would move on.

This entire thing would be in the past. Where it belonged.

That hurt Ziva more than she was willing to admit.

"Where the hell is DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as they walked into the bullpen. Tony's desk was indeed empty. McGee and Ziva exchanged looks, then shrugged. "Just because he stays behind doesn't give him license to disappear," Gibbs muttered, annoyed. McGee and Ziva set to work, the latter puzzling over the obvious absence from the bullpen. He should have already been out of therapy…so then where the heck was he?

"Tracking says he's still in the Navy Yard," McGee reported. Ziva made a face at this. Was it possible…?

"McGee, cover for me."

Ziva ran out of the bullpen before Ziva could answer.

It was a little surprising, finding Tony at the shooting range. He hadn't voluntarily gone within a hundred feet of a gun since the accident.

But now here he was. Standing in one of the booths, gun out, pointed at a target.

"Tony…?"

"These people must think I'm insane." Not exactly the answer Ziva had been expecting. But okay. "I've been standing here for like an hour. Just standing. Every time I even think about pulling the trigger, I go back to that damned warehouse. I see you…bleeding…"

Tony's voice drifted off as Ziva moved closer to him, her chest pressed against his back, and her arms snaked up around him, hands coming to a rest over his own, which were still clutching the gun tightly. "You are not in the warehouse," she said quietly, her finger finding the trigger. "That's over. You are here. I am here. I am right behind you. You are not going to hurt me or anyone else. You have to trust yourself, Tony. I know that is hard — trust me, I know — but you are trustworthy. And I know hearing it isn't enough to make you believe it, but I promise, it's true. You have to learn to trust yourself again. And this seems like the best way to start."

And with that, she pulled the trigger. The vibration of the shot rattled through Tony's hands, right down to the bone. He felt as if his entire body was shaken by that single shot. He could feel his lunch attempting to revisit him, but Ziva's arms were still wrapped around him from behind, keeping him rooted to the spot. Her hands felt so warm against his…

"Okay?"

No, it wasn't. Tony highly doubted it would ever really be okay ever again. But his stomach was starting to settle, at least a little. That had to count for something, right?

All thoughts flew from Tony's head as he suddenly realized how close he and Ziva were. And how this must have looked to anyone walking by.

"Um…Ziva?"

She pulled away at once, understanding his hesitancy. The last thing they needed was word somehow getting back to Gibbs about their newfound — and most likely temporary — intimacy.

Rule number twelve.

Tony set the gun down, unwilling to tempt fate too much. One shot a day was enough.

"We should probably head back to the office," he said finally.

"Right."

They headed back towards NCIS, Ziva filling Tony in on the case as they walked. No one was really surprised when they walked into the bullpen together.

Tony sighed as he knocked back another glass of scotch. He'd gotten home about seven and cracked the alcohol bottle open. It was almost nine. The bottle was now more than half empty.

This was why he'd ended up at Ziva's last night. Being alone was just bad for him.

He couldn't keep leaning on Ziva though. It wasn't fair to her for him to keep depending on her.

So he sucked it up. Went home. Started drinking.

Never a good idea.

Knock-Knock-Knock…

Tony pushed himself off the couch, stumbling a bit in his attempt to get to the door.

"It is an up and down thing, yes?" Ziva said before Tony had completely registered that she was standing there. So much for getting distance.

Ziva slipped into the apartment without waiting for Tony to invite her in. She grabbed the bottle off the living room table, heading into the kitchen. Tony didn't protest as he poured the liquid down the drain and started searching his cabinet. He needed this. He knew he did.

Four more bottles were found. Their contents instantly went into the sink. "Anywhere else I should look?" Ziva asked, turning back to Tony at last. "Closet, maybe, under the bed?"

"I live alone, why the hell would I need to hide anything?" Tony asked, a bit annoyed. Ziva shrugged, heading towards Tony's bedroom. "What, do you think I'm lying?" He demanded as he followed her.

"I think people do strange things when they're drunk," Ziva replied patiently.

Tony was shocked, to say the least, when Ziva unearthed two bottles of rum in the back of the closet. At least she didn't rub it in. A quick check under the bed revealed a bottle of bourbon, of all things.

"Um…"

Ziva went back into the kitchen to dump out the rest of the alcohol. She poured a glass of water, shoving it into Tony's hands. "Drink," she ordered gently. Tony couldn't find it in himself to ignore her. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Ziva I don't need you to—"

"It certainly seems like you do," Ziva interrupted. She set to work, pulling out a pan from under the counter and filling it with water.

"Ziva—"

"I'm assuming you have pasta, that is always something you seem to be in full supply of—"

"Ziva!"

He didn't really mean to yell. But jeez, why was she ignoring him?

Ziva stopped in her attempt to track down a box of pasta. She kept her back to Tony, and after a moment she leaned against the counter, sighing heavily.

"Just shut up Tony."

There wasn't much he could say to that. So he let Ziva go back to work, watching as she poured the pasta in the boiling water, stirring slowly.

"So you are just going to drink yourself into a coma every night you are alone?" Ziva asked finally. Tony instantly, irrationally, went on the defensive.

"Gonna give me a lecture?"

"That would be hypocritical," Ziva responded simply. She was being surprisingly patient. "I will, however, say that I do not recommend it — it does not make the feelings go away."

Yeah. He had noticed as much. "Maybe you just never drank enough," he suggested after a moment. He was a bit surprised when Ziva laughed.

"I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, if that is not enough than I do not want to know what is."

Tony wasn't quite sure what to make of that statement. "I…you…wait, what?" He really hoped he was just drunk and had misunderstood what she had said. "Alcohol poisoning?"

Ziva purposely prolonged having to answer, putting more effort into searching for a jar of tomato sauce than thinking about what to say. "It was about a week after I moved into my new apartment," she said finally as she finally found what she was looking for. "I had been drinking since…since I came back. The night after everything with um…with the Damocles and Malachi and everything, I…drank a little more. Everything that had happened just kind of came crashing down at once.

"I do not really remember much of that night, to be honest. I remember going home and opening the alcohol, and after that everything is kind of….fizzy? Fritzy?"

"Fuzzy," Tony corrected automatically; his head spinning. He'd never heard this story before…

"Fuzzy, yes. The next thing I remember clearly is waking up in the hospital feeling absolutely sick to my stomach. I found out later that my neighbor had come over and found me passed out in the kitchen. She was an older woman, she knew I was going through some…stuff…so she'd taken it upon herself to take care of me, I guess. She found me and called an ambulance. The doctor told me when I woke up that my blood alcohol content had been point-three-five."

Tony's mouth just about hit the floor. "That…that's…"

"Just a little more and it probably would have been lethal," Ziva said, supplying the words for Tony that he couldn't quite bring himself to say. "And it did not make the memories hurt any less or disappear."

Point taken. Tony blew out a breath from between pursed lips, running a hand through his hair. "You never said anything," he said finally, his voice taking on a slightly accusing tone.

Ziva shrugged. "I already owed all of you my life. I didn't think it was fair for you to have to deal with my mental problems as well."

Damn it, why'd she have to be so nonchalant about everything? "You should have said something," Tony insisted weakly. It didn't really matter, he supposed. They were talking about things that had happened almost two years ago. It wasn't like he could change any of it now. He just felt bad. Why hadn't she ever said anything?

"As I said…" She shrugged as she switched off the flames for the pasta and sauce pots. "Hope you are hungry."

That didn't answer a damn thing.

"You really are hypocrite, aren't you?"

He was a bit surprised when Ziva turned around and gave him a small smile, winking. "I have never denied it."

Well…at least she was honest.

Author's Note: So I can't remember where, but I heard a saying somewhere once: in order to fight one's own demons, own must want to fight someone else's. Or maybe I just made that up. I don't know. But that's the premise of the next chapter because quite honestly, I was always a bit disgusted by the way the show handled Somalia. So we're reviving that next chapter, as well as bringing Tony another step closer to getting over his own problems. Two chapters left; review please! —Sam