I'm going to just stop apologizing for the length of time between chapters. Clearly, that's just what happens. Anyway, its summer so, maybe there's hope.

This is a bit of a filler. Sort of... : )

Let me know.

Chapter Ten

It was just past eleven when Tony and Ziva arrived back at their apartment after dinner. Ziva was making a point to call it theirs.

She kept Tony's hand squeezed inside of hers as she searched her purse for her keys. Ziva hated this bag; she could never find anything in it. Had she been alone, she would have located her keys prior to leaving her car. But, Tony was with her so she didn't feel uncomfortable standing vulnerable in the hallway of her apartment building. Finally, after a moment of rummaging, she felt metal against her fingers and triumphantly pulled the key chain from the depths of her bag. Still only using one hand, she slid it into the hole and twisted the knob, opening the house to them.

Tony shut the door behind them and flicked the light switch on the wall. Ziva held his hand in a vice grip and he didn't dare try and let go. Not that he wanted to, anyway. Stepping away from him a bit, she set her bag down on the counter. He pulled her back towards him and led them to the couch.

The two landed on the couch and Ziva took her usual spot under Tony's arm. She leaned against him and watched as his fingers drew intricate patterns up and down her arm. He wasn't doing much to help her fight this urge that she had inside of her right now. It was one she hadn't felt in quite some time and one that she was, quite frankly, afraid of.

After a moment, she decided to act and simply see where that brought her. Earlier in the night she had watched him eye her up and down, and she had silently hoped that he didn't think that anything was going to happen tonight. She wasn't ready for that. But now, all her mind could think about was the kiss that they had shared under the stars. She wanted more – more of that kiss and more of him.

Hesitantly, she turned in his arms and sat up. She stared at him for a moment. He hadn't turned on the TV even though the remote sat just beside him on the table. He was thinking, too. He looked back at her and widened his eyes a bit. Ziva grabbed Tony's hand and pulled him with her until her back was against the opposite arm of the couch.

He followed and once she stopped moving and settled against the arm, he positioned himself just above her. He was careful to make sure that she didn't feel trapped or pinned. That had gotten him into trouble before. She smiled at him, that devilish grin of seduction that he hadn't seen on his ninja in some time, and something inside of him snapped.

"Want something?" he asked, a grin coming across his face.

"You."

He smiled at her statement and took her lips in his. There was something about her being his that just made Tony come unglued. He could barely contain himself when he thought about it. He had always envied the man that got to kiss Ziva. He tried to keep that thought out of his mind as he tasted her lips – he didn't want to totally lose control.

Her lips – he hadn't remembered them being so sweet earlier in the evening and he hadn't remembered this fire that tore through him as he kissed her, either.

Tony was just about to come up for air when he felt her mouth open just a bit wider. An invitation? She'd let him know if it wasn't.

Their tongues tangoed until it was evident that both of their bodies were in need of some serious oxygen.

Ziva gasped as Tony's lips left her own. She thought for a moment that he was finished. Then she felt him begin to trail light kisses from the base of her neck, one by one, up to the very corner of her mouth. The room was suddenly becoming very hot.

Her mind floated off for a moment. She was surprised that she hadn't panicked yet. Then, she supposed that it was the way that Tony kissed her – the way he held onto her hips as his mouth trailed down the other side of her neck. There was no roughness, no violence; he wasn't forcing her down as his hand held onto her. He was loving her. And that made the difference.

Ziva wasn't sure what came over her, but she found herself undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. All she knew was that she wanted more. She wanted so much more.

Surprised himself, Tony looked at her for a moment. He expected to see some kind of confusion or fear in her eyes but he didn't see anything in her eyes except clarity. She knew what she was doing and it was exactly what she wanted.

"Two can play that game," he teased.

He reached down her side and slowly dragged the zipper of her dress from just below her arm all the way to her hip.

Ziva's breath hitched in her throat and she tensed for a moment as she felt Tony's fingers undo her dress. He must have felt her harden because he looked up and into her eyes to make sure that what he was doing was okay with her – to make sure that she wanted him to do this. She nodded and he slipped the dress above her hips and over her head. It joined his shirt on the floor and he went back to work on her neck.

At that moment, a cold breeze hit her and she was reminded of the few nights she had been forced spend naked in the desert. It was before they had given her clothes back. The desert is very deceiving. Although it blazes like fire during the day, the nights are cold and windy. She shivered – she couldn't do this.

Suddenly, she felt a hand dance along her hairline. He grazed his fingers through her dark hair. Tears were welling in her eyes. She didn't understand. Moments ago, all she could think of was Tony, but now her mind hovered somewhere in the fog between her past and their present.

"You all right?" he whispered.

"I…I can't." she struggled to form the words that she needed to say.

He nodded. "Tell me what's going through your head."

"I'm cold," she began and he moved from above her and off the couch. He grabbed the blanket that covered the leather chair across the room. Coming back to her, he wrapped it around her pulled her back under his arm. She leaned back against him and he felt her breathing move back in the direction of what would be considered normal. He looked down at her and she continued, "In the beginning, just after I was captured, they stripped me. For a week, I was in a cell with no clothes on. I was freezing. That was when it started. But, then, they gave them back to me. They ordered me to put them on. Evidently, he enjoyed taking them off."

Tony pulled Ziva closer to him as he listened to her speak. It was painful to hear of the things that she had endured. He swore that the image of her naked body cowering in the corner of a dusty cell would never leave his mind.

"I love you," he said, kissing the top of her head. It was the only form of comfort he could offer.

"I wanted to tonight…"

"We will, don't worry." He thought about adding a dirty joke to end of his statement but hearing the disappointment and sadness in her voice, her decided against it.

"But, I thought that tonight I was ready. I felt ready."

"Hey, look at me," he said, tapping her chin. She reluctantly turned her head to look at him. "In the beginning, you flinched when I kissed your forehead, you stiffened when I hugged you – you're getting there."

She nodded and turned her body so that she could snuggle her head into his chest. She didn't feel cold anymore.

Monday morning Rachel drove herself to the Navy Yard. She'd already had two cups of coffee and felt as if there was nothing that the New Agent Battery could throw at her that she couldn't handle. She parked her car in the visitors' section of the NCIS parking lot, as she still didn't have an I.D. badge, and headed towards Human Resources.

She had decided not to go see Tony and Ziva before her first psych evaluation. She didn't need them in her head. She had to be focused – she had to be on her game.

It wasn't as if she was avoiding them. Rachel had talked to Ziva multiple times on Sunday. She called Sunday morning and told her about her evening with Tyler. She assured her that they had just been two old co-workers catching up. Rachel said that the conversation had never gone anywhere deep and she certainly didn't tell her that she thought she might have some type of feelings for Tyler. Ziva would have freaked if she had heard that.

Rachel was excited to hear about Tony and Ziva's date. She and Ziva giggled as they discussed just how romantic Agent DiNozzo could be when he wanted to be. She was glad that they both seemed genuinely happy with where things were going. It gave her hope for her own future.

They talked again later that day when Ziva called to "prep" her for the New Agent Battery. Tony jumped on the line and told her to stop by the squad room for a pep talk beforehand. She politely declined. She told them both that she'd be fine; she could do this.

Rachel walked into Human Resources and sat down in the waiting area. She was beginning to rethink her statement to Tony and Ziva. Maybe she couldn't do this.

She grabbed a magazine off of the side table and flipped through it. Newsweek was running a story on corruption in the CIA. How fitting. She put it back on the table and closed her eyes. Maybe she could achieve some type of Zen before she had to go in.

Just a few moments later, a small woman was leading her back to a small room equipped with a leather couch. Rachel sighed. She hated psychiatrists or psychologists or whoever this woman was.

The conversation started easy enough. Dr. Powers asked her about her previous experience and why she liked this line of work so much. Rachel could easily answer those questions. It was when they began to talk about Prague, and Rachel's childhood, and her relationship with her father that things became challenging. She knew that the doctor would be able to tell if she was lying or if she was holding anything back so, she tried to just casually tell the truth. She tried to, nonchalantly, explain everything. That, of course, ended with her in tears.

Rachel was surprised, though. Dr. Powers seemed to expect her to be upset with her father. She seemed to think it was normal that Rachel was struggling between being her father's daughter and being his employee.

The doctor wrapped up her session with Rachel after two hours. She discussed things that she thought might cause Rachel problems at NCIS, namely, her personal relationship with Ziva. Rachel nodded her head. She had feared that this would be a problem. Dr. Powers turned back to her notes and wrote a few things down.

"Your relationship with Agent David could be a liability," she said, "it may cause you and her, for that matter, to act irrationally under duress." Rachel nodded and the woman continued, "But, I am relatively familiar with Agent Gibbs and the way he runs his team, I don't necessarily condone it, but I think that you would be just as much as a liability as any of them. They're tight knit. Sometimes, it works to their advantage, other times, it doesn't. You'll work well with them."

She then handed Rachel her paper work that said that she had passed her psych evaluation. She could even pick up her I.D. badge. Rachel couldn't help but smile as she left the office. The hardest part was over. The polygraph and the firearms proficiency test were tomorrow. She could most certainly handle that and after she passed those, she would officially be Special Agent Rachel Williams, NCIS.

She could get used to that.

Ziva stood over the stove Monday night, thinking about Rachel. She had been so happy when Rachel stopped by the bullpen to tell her and Tony that she had passed her psych evaluation.

Tony had grabbed her by the waist and carried her around the bullpen in what he called her "celebratory lap." McGee had proceeded to enlighten Tony and remind him that Rachel was an Agent, now and that his behavior would be considered "red light behavior." Tony promptly put her down.

Gibbs had been there, too and Ziva was pretty sure that Rachel's eyes had lit up when Gibbs had said, "Hard part's over, Probie." He already thought of her as being part of the team and that was just what Rachel needed.

Ziva had made the executive decision on dinner that night. She thought that she and Tony had been eating too much take-out lately. It was not good for either of their healths. They hadn't been at work too late tonight so she decided to make dinner.

Ziva had always loved cooking. When she first started working at NCIS, Rachel gave her a cookbook of "all-American" dishes. Every night she tried making something different. Some Saturdays she and Rachel would lay out dozens of recipes and see just how many of them they could accomplish.

"Do you want some help?" Tony asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He laid his head on her shoulder.

"You should be careful," she warned, holding up the utensil that she was currently using to chop onions. "I do have a lot of knives at my disposal right now."

"Is that a no?"

"Go watch the game, I will tell you when I need help."

"Alright, Sweetcheeks." He kissed her neck and then disappeared back into the living room and back onto the couch.

Ziva was making some serious headway on cutting all of the vegetables when the landline rang. She assumed it would be a telemarketer and almost let it go, but then decided against it. She hated letting the phone ring.

She hardly ever used this line. No one knew the number, it had come with the apartment and she had never got around to disconnecting it. She had been a little preoccupied back then.

"Hello," she answered. She wasn't even really paying attention. She was more concerned about the chicken that was currently defrosting on her counter.

"Ziva." A heavily accented male voice stated.

Ziva stopped thinking about the chicken.

It wasn't.

He wouldn't be calling her.

That was far too bold for him.

They hadn't even spoken since before…

"Who is this?" she demanded.

He let out a small and cocky chuckled. "Ziva, you know who this is."

He was calm – too calm for her liking. She didn't know why he was calling. She didn't really want to know why he was calling. Ziva contemplated hanging up on him for a minute.

"What I do not know," she paused and took a deep breath, trying her best to keep her voice even and authoritative, "is why you are calling me and how you got this number."

Her voice was raising now and her mind was spinning, so much so that she didn't notice Tony get up from the couch and slowly make his way into the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about.

"To answer your second question," Eli David said, "I'm sure you know that I have my ways, Ziva."

Tony stopped in the kitchen doorway and leaned himself against the door. Ziva's eyes were wide as she stared down at the counter top. She put her hand on her forehead and then quickly moved it away, slamming it on the counter.

"You have been watching me?" she spat.

"It is for your own well being, Ziva."

She didn't like the way that he kept putting her name at the end of every sentence. She felt like she was being played. It was a manipulation tactic.

"You have never done anything for my well being." A small and sarcastic laugh escaped her chest. "And I can assure you that I do not need, nor want, your protection."

"Ziva, I want you to come back…back to Tel Aviv."

"Back to Mossad?" she clarified. She knew that that was what he was really talking about. All business, no pleasure. Her hands were beginning to shake and she grabbed the counter to steady herself.

"It is where you belong."

"You accepted my resignation months ago. It was final!"

"Ziva!" It was Eli's turn to raise his voice. He was getting angry with her now. "You belong with me, not Agent Gibbs, not him, not them. Do not forget that Anthony killed Michael out of pure jealousy. He is rash – out of control! That is not someone who I want my daughter associating with, let alone sleeping with!"

She couldn't believe that he would dare to go there will her. Michael had been his fault – his pawn. None of it had been real. It hadn't. He didn't get to this to her. He didn't get to do this to her. He was the reason that she was the way she was. He didn't get to do this.

"Just so you know," she bit her lip as tears began to escape her eyes. Her voice was starting to crack. She would not cry in front of Eli. He did not have that power over her. She would not show such weakness. She tried to continue, "I am not sleeping with Tony because . . ." She wanted to throw it in his face and tell him that the only reason that she hadn't slept with him was because of the damage that his mission had done to her. But, she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

She held her breath; she wouldn't cry.

She wouldn't cry.

Eli had been yelling so loudly that Tony could hear him from the few feet away that he stood and he didn't like what he was hearing but, more importantly, he didn't like what he was seeing. Her grip on the counter tightened as she tried to throw their relationship in Eli's face. She couldn't do it, though. She looked like she was going to be sick when she tried to throw the truth in her father's face. Ziva was crumbling and Tony couldn't stand and watch her any longer.

He moved from the kitchen doorway to stand behind her. He put a hand on her back and, as if she had some sort of magnetism towards him, she immediately turned herself into him.

She still held the phone to her ear. She still held her breath in her throat.

He took the phone out of her hand and waited for her to give him permission to end this. This wasn't fair to her and he wouldn't stand by and watch any longer. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over with tears, and nodded just once.

"Thanks for the call," he said and hung the phone back on the receiver.

Ziva let out the breath that she had been holding and violent sobs over took her body. Tony hadn't seen her cry this hard in a very long time and he had to fight the urge to call Eli Dah-vid back and absolutely tear him to shreds. Who the hell did he think he was calling her up and ripping her to pieces like that? He hadn't earned that right.

His attention, though, was brought back to the woman in front of him as he felt her ball up his shirt in her fist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her head down to rest against his chest. They had had such a great day – a great weekend. Damn Eli for ruining it.

He kissed the top of her head. He didn't know what else to do. He held her for a few moments as she shook against his chest. He rubbed his hands up and down her shoulder. There was nothing he had come to hate more than seeing Ziva upset. It tore something up inside of him.

A few moments later, Ziva took a muffled breath against his chest. She lifted her head up and took a step back from his arms. She was trying to pull herself back together. She crossed her arms across her chest – she was suddenly very cold. She leaned back against the counter top and looked at the ground.

That had been bad. She hadn't liked what Eli could still do to her. She thought she had separated herself from him. She thought she had cut all ties. She didn't like this feeling.

After studying the floor tiles for a moment, her eyes rose to meet Tony's. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was swollen from crying. Tony couldn't stand not touching her right now. She looked so broken. He had to hold her together. He took both her hands and laced his fingers through hers.

"He cannot just call and tear apart the only people who care about me," she said.

"Not the way to win you back," Tony agreed.

"Well, that is not possible to begin with."

Tony nodded.

They stood and stared at each other for a few minutes. He took to idly playing with her hands, hoping it would distract her. He could see all of the gears turning inside of her head. He wondered what she was thinking. Then, suddenly, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

"He's been watching us." Ziva said. "He's seen us in bed. We need to leave." She broke away from him and moved toward the windows in the living room. She lifted a shade and peered outside.

"Ziva…" He began, slowly, calmly.

"Tony, I don't want to be here if there is someone from Mossad lurking around every corner." She moved from window to window, scanning the street.

"Ziva," he said, again. He hadn't moved from his spot in the kitchen. What the hell had come over her?

"Tony, please!" Her breathing was becoming labored again. She was panicking.

"Ziva, come here."

Tony, we-"

"Zi!" For a second, he thought that she was actually going to lose it on him.

She appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was biting her lip. She looked like a child who thought that there was a monster lurking under her bed. He hadn't seen her look so terrified since Saleem had held the knife up to her throat all those months ago.

He approached her slowly; he didn't know what could spook her right now. She made no move to run and he reached her and pulled her into his arms. As her head reached his chest, she fell apart again. He sighed and began to rub small circles on her back.

"You are safe, Ziva," he said, "I promise you, you are safe."

Gibbs had fallen asleep on a stool in his basement when his cell phone rang. He had gotten home early and headed down to his basement to work on his latest project.

He was taking his time on this one. He was hoping it wouldn't be needed too soon. He thought he was being pretty good with this whole thing, but there was only so much he could take. In time, he would be ready for that, but certainly not now. Nevertheless, he had started the project on a whim a couple of months ago. He would finish it and then put it in the storage shed until it's time came. At that time, he hoped that each carving would tell a story from the beginning – the beginning that he had witnessed.

In the two months since beginning the project, he hadn't made much progress. Since he didn't think that time was really a factor, he worked only on parts that he wanted to and then moved on and to another part. There was no specific order.

He had just finished carving the symbol for infinity.

Satisfied with his work for the evening, Jethro took a seat on his stool and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He swung the glass back a few times, thinking about the beginnings that he'd had. In hindsight, only two had really mattered. Then again, it was really only one. The thoughts of the past were draining and after a while he was slumped over asleep.

It was close to midnight when Gibbs' phone woke him up. He took a moment to regain his surroundings before answering. He didn't bother checking the caller I.D. There was only a small group of people who would be calling him at this hour. He hoped that it wasn't Metro. He didn't feel like dealing with a body right now.

"Yeah." He said.

"Uh . . . hey, Boss," Tony said.

"Something I can do for you, DiNozzo?" He wanted Tony to get to the point. It was midnight after all and he had better things to do than entertain his Senior Field Agent's ramblings.

"Actually, yeah," Tony was whispering, something he rarely did, "Do you think you could come to Ziva's?"

"Something wrong?" Gibbs asked.

"Actually, yeah," Tony paused for a moment, "I just found a bug in Ziva's living room."

Tony waited for Gibbs to respond, but he never did. He heard a car engine turn on. He figured that that was an answer enough. Tony was about to hang up and just wait for Gibbs to arrive, when his boss gave him instructions.

"Call McGee, I'm on my way." He said.

Tony nodded, though Gibbs couldn't see him, and closed his phone. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Why?

Taking another deep breath, he opened his phone, again and dialed Tim. Tony waited as the phone rang and rang and range. Rule number three – never be unreachable. Finally, on the fourth ring, a groggy sounding McGee answered.

"McGee." He said.

"McTired," Tony said, "You're needed at Ziva's." He didn't feel like elaborating even though he knew that McGee would ask for more information.

"Is something wrong?" McGee asked.

"Yes, Probie, something is." Tony was a little irritated. Though, he thought he had a good enough reason to be.

"Okay," McGee said hesitantly, "I'm on my way."

"Thank you." Tony let out an exasperated breath before hanging up on McGee. He put his phone back in his pocket and walked down the hallway to check on Ziva.

After having her panic attack and looking out the windows like a mad woman, she had completely fallen apart in Tony's arm. She was scared. Eli's phone call had stirred something in her.

After a few moments of holding her in the doorway, Tony had decided he couldn't take this anymore. He had placed an arm around her back and behind her knees and scooped her up. Not questioning him, Ziva had simply rested her head against his shoulder. He'd then proceeded to carry her to their bedroom.

Tony had kicked the bedroom door open and laid her down on the bed. He'd climbed in after her and pulled her against his chest. He'd thought he'd heard a muffled apology, but had decided to ignore it. She had nothing to be sorry for. Director Dah-vid, on the other hand, had a whole litany of things to be extremely apologetic for. He absolutely hated that man. Tony didn't care that he was partially responsible for Ziva's existence. He was also completely responsible for her almost non-existence.

He'd thought she'd fallen asleep. Her breathing had leveled off. Her grip on his hand had slacked. Tony had moved to grab the blanket and tuck them in for the night when she'd grabbed his hand again.

"I'm just grabbing the covers," he had reassured her.

"Will you do me a favor?" she'd asked.

"Mhmm."

"Sweep the apartment." It was a quiet whisper, as if she was afraid to ask.

"Sweep for – Zi," he'd shook his head, she was really becoming paranoid, "It's fine, Zi, no one's got us bugged. He probably just assumed we'd –."

"Please, Tony." She'd pleaded. "For me?"

He'd sighed. How could he say "no"? "Yeah, okay. I will. Go to sleep. I'll be back in a few."

He'd leaned down and kissed her lips. He had to admit that he was surprised when she kissed him back – especially with that much intensity. He'd figured tonight would have taken them at least ten steps back.

Tony had then gotten up from bed and done a sweep of their bedroom, living room and kitchen. Ziva had watched as he found nothing in the bedroom. He'd smiled at her as he left the room and headed towards the kitchen. He'd watched her close her eyes as he eased the door shut. Tony then did a quick sweep of the kitchen, figuring that they would have found something in there while doing dishes the night before. He had then moved on to the living room.

Really, he was just brushing over everything – humoring Ziva. There was absolutely no way Mossad could have bugged the apartment without them knowing. They were two highly trained Federal Agents. But, if it would make Ziva feel better, he would do it.

Tony's hand had been feeling up the area just below the radiator when he'd knocked over a lamp. He'd been thankful that it had landed on the carpet and not made too much noise. Hopefully, she was still sleeping. He'd reached to pick it up, when something attached to the base had caught his eye. Tony's heart had stopped for a minute. That did not belong there.

Tony shook his head as he thought about what had happened in the past few hours. Things had really gone downhill. He slowly opened the door and looked in on Ziva.

She looked asleep. Her chest was steadily rising and falling under the covers. He didn't know how he was going to tell her that she'd been right. He mentally slapped himself. Of course, she had been right. She was Ziva. She was his ninja. He was about to enter the room and climb back in bed with her when a light tap hit the front door. He shut the bedroom door. Gibbs was here. He'd want answers. Answers that Tony didn't have.

Gibbs' first thought when Tony answered the door was that his best Agent looked like absolute hell. His second was that now they'd have to discuss Rule Twelve because Tony's entire movie collection was perfectly lined up below Ziva's TV.

"Hey, Boss." Tony said, absent-mindedly. He opened the door and then walked away, leaving Gibbs to enter and close the door behind him on his own.

"Where is it?" Gibbs asked.

Tony pointed to the small electronic device sitting on the kitchen counter. Gibbs looked at it for a moment, before picking it up and evaluating it in his hand. It was small – very high tech. McGee would tell him just how high tech it was when he arrived. It was half the length of a pen, a thin rectangular cube with a tiny antenna coming out of its side. Flipping it over, Gibbs looked at it's dismembered back. A wire had been cut - assumedly by DiNozzo. The lights were off; Tony had successfully disabled it.

Gibbs set it back on the counter. He wasn't concerned about preserving evidence. Abby wouldn't find any prints on it. Mossad – Eli wasn't stupid. Well, Gibbs chuckled, he was stupid, but not in that way. He turned and looked behind him, suddenly realizing that someone, the most important one, was missing. He turned back to Tony, who had been nervously rubbing his neck as Gibbs surveyed the device.

"Where's Ziva?"

"Sleeping, I hope."

Gibbs raised an eye. He wasn't going to settle for ambiguity tonight.

"You should probably know that I hung up on the director of a foreign intelligence agency tonight," Tony added.

"Oh yeah?" It was his way of pressuring Tony to continue.

"He called out of the blue – chewed Ziva out. Like, tore her to shreds," he emphasized each word of the last sentence. "He told her that he wants her back in Mossad. Said it's where she belongs. Reminded her of what I did to Rivkin. Said he didn't want his daughter sleep – dating someone like that."

Gibbs nodded; not missing the way Tony changed his words half way through the last sentence. He smiled for a second, almost getting lost in the idea of his Agent hanging up on Director Dah-vid. He would've liked to be a fly on the wall in Eli's office after that.

"She all right?" he asked, suddenly remembering the gravity of what would have had to have taken place for Tony to take the phone and hang up on Eli Dah-vid.

"Uh . . ." Tony paused for a second deciding between sugar coating the truth or just outright saying it. "No, not really. It really through her for a loop."

Tony scratched his head and then crossed his arms. He was simply waiting for Gibbs to ask more pressing questions. Ones that would make him admit that he was breaking Rule Twelve. He leaned against the counter and watched as Gibbs did the same. The two men starred at each other for a while.

Finally, Gibbs decided to break the silence. "Should we have this conversation now?" he asked.

"It is blatantly obvious, I guess."

"A year ago, you would've tried to feed me some completely unbelievable lie."

"That was a year ago," Tony responded.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. When had DiNozzo grown up on him? "How long?" He asked.

"That's a sordid question," Tony said. He wasn't trying to avoid it. It simply was the truth.

"When did things start to change?"

"Mid October. But, it's not what you think. Well, it is, now. But it wasn't for a while."

"I don't really care what it was or is, DiNozzo. But, let's get two things straight. I don't want it ever in the office. And don't be an idiot like you usually are. She deserves better than that."

"No worries, Boss."

Tony smiled, slightly. He had just gotten Gibbs' approval. Of course, it came with a warning, but didn't everything?

Just after that there was a knock on the door and Gibbs went to let McGee in. Tony wasn't sure what McGee was going to do – what any of them were going to do really. He knew why he had called Gibbs. He'd been in a panic and that was whom he called. But, where did they go from here?

He took this break in the action to go check on Ziva. Gibbs would update McGee and tell him what was going on.

Tony ducked down the hallway and slipped into the bedroom. Ziva was on her side facing the door. Her eyes met his as he entered the room and the realization that she was awake brought him out of the haze that he had entered.

"Hey," he whispered, closing the door behind him. "I thought you were asleep."

"Why is Gibbs here?" she asked. She sat up in bed and looked at him with the widest, most frightened eyes that he had ever seen.

"I called him."

She looked at him, full well knowing why he had called their boss and what that meant. "I was right, wasn't I?"

He nodded and then came and sat down next to her on the bed. He put an arm around her shoulder and tipped her into his embrace. "I'm sorry for thinking you were crazy."

"It's fine. You don't know them as well as I do. They classify me as rogue."

Rogue. He didn't like that word. Ari Haswari was rogue. Michael Rivkin was rogue. It didn't end well for either of them. Ziva was not rogue.

"We'll figure it out," he promised. He kissed her cheek and squeezed her shoulder for good measure.

"I should come out and help."

"You don't have to. Just hang out in here. Turn the TV on." He tried to make his voice sound light.

"I don't want them to think – " She shook her head and began to get up.

"Zi, it's just Gibbs and McGee, they don't think anything. You had a rough night."

"You will not leave without me?" she asked.

"Course not."

"I'll come back in a bit," he said, getting up from the bed.

She nodded and watched him move towards the door. She didn't like this new feeling. She felt hollow as he moved away from her. It was like he was leaving her to fend for herself. She knew he was really going to fight for her. But, it didn't feel like that.

"Tony," she added as he moved out the door. He looked towards her. "Please, do not call Rachel." She looked at him pleadingly for a second.

"I won't."

McGee, Gibbs and Tony spent the rest of the night doing a full sweep of the apartment. They wanted to make sure that there wasn't another bug that Tony had missed.

Ziva had eventually joined them. She couldn't stand feeling so useless. She'd gotten dressed, cleaned herself up and helped them go through the rest of her apartment. It was close to four in the morning by the time they had finished. Gibbs told them to come in late the next morning and then he and McGee had slipped out, equipment and some of Ziva's furniture in tow. This left Tony and Ziva sitting at the kitchen table staring at each other.

"What now?" Ziva asked.

"Sleep?" Tony offered.

"You know what I mean . . ." She needed him to be serious right now. She needed top notch Tony. The one who was somehow inside her head.

"I don't know," he grew serious. "I mean, personally, I probably just caused an international incident." He tried to make her smile, but it didn't work. "I guess you have to decide how you want to proceed."

She traced the top of the empty mug that sat in front of her. "I don't know." She said. "Part of me wants to pretend that this never happened. The other part of me wants to call him back and . . . "

"Yell at him?"

"Yes, but, that did not go well last time."

"I'll yell at him, if you want." Tony would jump at the chance to give Eli a piece of his mind.

She smiled at his offer. "Earlier was plenty. Thank you. But, I cannot control what you do when you are alone . . ."

"I see how it is." Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Bob's you're uncle. He'd done things like that for her before.

"We can't make him too angry, you know. There is nothing tying me to this country. I'm still in this strange in between phase." She looked down at the table as she said the last statement. Why was it that every time someone tried to say something that made them uncomfortable they felt the need to look away from the other person? Ziva had never understood that involuntary reflex.

She couldn't imagine having to leave. Eli had an unlimited supply of connections. He could get her sent her back to Israel in a heartbeat. It would only take his order. What would happen then? Tony wouldn't go with her. He wouldn't be able to – nor would she expect him to. She'd be part of Mossad again. Her father would give her some impossible assignment. He'd say that it would be the only way to gain back his trust – the only way to prove her loyalty. She'd have to accept. Then, she'd be dead. She'd be dead and all the possibilities that she'd once believed were hers and Tony's would evaporate into thin air.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, taking her hand off the top of the mug.

"Don't make promises that you can't keep."

"I'm not," he said, "I can keep that one."

She took a deep breath and then nodded. This was some type of cruel emotional rollercoaster ride. She could look at it from so many different points of view. One the one hand, Tony was amazing. If they could make it through this, then they could make it through anything. It was comforting to think that maybe this would be the most challenging time of their life and that things could only go up from here. On the other hand, she was on the verge of the losing everything and everyone. Not to mention, it was quite presumptuous of her to so easily think that she and Tony had such a long future together.

"Can we do something for me?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"Let's go to bed." He rose from the table and took her hand with him. He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. They stood there for a moment and Tony silently wondered if this was the famous calm before the storm. He wondered if this past weekend had been the exposition of the movie, the part where everyone is happy - the part where things seemed to be going in your favor. He wondered if this was when everything turned for the worst.

"Come on," he said. He let go of her and threw his arm around her shoulder.

They silently walked down the small hallway to the bedroom, making sure never to let go of each other. They separated only when forced to. Ziva wasn't ready to get changed in the same room as him quite yet. A few minutes later, they were climbing into bed and turning off the light. Tony made sure that the window shades were all the way down. The sun would be up in just a few hours.

Rachel sat in Tony's chair Tuesday morning, swiveling back and forth. She had arrived more than early for her firearms proficiency test and had decided to go see Tony and Ziva. She had been taken by surprise to find the bullpen completely empty. Nonetheless, she took a seat in Tony's chair and waited for them to appear. They had to be here somewhere. It was nearly half passed eight.

As she waited, Rachel's mind drifted toward Tyler. She'd really enjoyed her dinner with him. He was easy to talk to and he always knew how to lighten her mood. It was why they had gotten along so well in the brief time they'd worked together. Things would have been more complicated if she still work at the Agency. She didn't, though. So, there was no reason that she couldn't pursue a friendship of sorts with him.

Her daydream was cut short when McGee entered the bullpen. He gave her a small wave and said hello before slouching into his chair. She supposed that he just wasn't a 'morning person'. Still, he looked remarkably tired.

"So, Rachel," he asked a few moments later, trying to make conversation. He needed her out of the bullpen before he accidently told her something about last night. "Don't you have a polygraph this morning?"

"It's not until nine-thirty," she stated. "I was going to say hi to everyone before I left for it." She paused for a second before continuing. "Where is everyone?

"They're…uh…working."

"Oh."

"Mhmm." McGee looked back down at his keyboard and continue typing. He was only checking emails. It wasn't like he could do anything important with Rachel sitting just feet away from him.

"Are they in Abby's lab?" Rachel asked after another few moments of silence. If McGee wasn't going to talk to her, she'd find someone who would.

"Uh . . . no." He looked at her for a moment before looking back towards his screen again. Which rule said always be specific when you lie? He definitely wasn't following that right now.

"You know I was cleared, right?" Rachel was beginning to think that McGee was hiding something from her – something like, Tony and Ziva's whereabouts.

McGee turned his chair to face her. He would be frank. He would be frank even though Tony and, more importantly, Ziva, had told him not to be. Rachel was a member of the team and McGee knew that from here, from this low point, things were only going to get worse. It would be best to just tell her exactly what was going on.

The universe, though, must have wanted to spare him from his partners' combined wrath, because, just when McGee was about to tell Rachel just where Tony and Ziva were, Abby came rushing in.

She was flustered – characteristic of her in any situation that threatened her team. She carried her newest electronic addition – the tablet – in one hand, and a larger than normal CafPow in the other. McGee ran his hand across his neck, attempting to signal Abby to stop before saying anything in front of Rachel but that, of course, failed.

"McGee!" She exclaimed, coming to a stop just at the edge of his desk. Her mouth began to move a mile a minute. "I don't know much. That's to be expected, of course. They're Mossad. I do know one thing, though, there were at least two people who were in Ziva's apartment and security footage in her building is blank from last Saturday night."

McGee closed his eyes for a second. Classic Abby. Sometimes he wondered, really wondered, about her. Taking a deep breath, he opened an eye and pointed a lazy finger in Rachel's direction. He hadn't planned on giving Rachel that much information. Come to think of it, he didn't know what he had planned on telling her.

Abby's eyes widened and she turned to look at Rachel who had risen from her chair and was now standing with her hands on hips and her mouth parted just a bit.

"I didn't see her here," Abby offered, sounding like a small child who had just been caught playing with paint on a white carpet.

"What do you mean Mossad broke into Ziva's apartment?" She asked.

McGee sighed – now he really was going to get the wrath.