Disclaimer: Not mine.

Tony tried desperately tried to reel back in his words. He banished his courage to the dusty corners of his mind with a firm Bad dog! and tried to appear composed. Ziva's jaw dropped slightly and various emotions flicked across her face before the mask returned.

"What?" she finally said, leaning slightly further away from him. He gave a sigh, starting to wish he had a time machine. But, he really did want an answer to his question.

"You're carrying two knives. You usually carry one on your right hip," he gestured faintly, deciding at the last minute that he probably shouldn't touch her just now. "But recently you've brought another, usually on your left hip or on an ankle."

She tried to avoid answering his question, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You have been studying me very closely."

He grinned in return. "Like I would for a chemistry final. I would prefer to say, though, that I am just keeping an eye on my partner's welfare."

"You doubt my ability to take care of myself?"

"The At-Work Ziva, no; she can kick-ass her way out of any fight. But At-Home Ziva…"

"So you have been stalking me at my house?" Her face got a (cute) slightly confused look to it, like when she didn't understand an idiom.

With a mischievous grin that assured he ignored the inquiry. They looked at each other for a minute, and she gave him a playfully-dangerous look, keeping up their pretenses of not having a serious conversation. He soon let his expression match the tone of his next statement. "If something is bothering you, causing you to feel the need for extra security, you know you can tell us."

"Wow, you really sound like some shrink from a suicide hotline, not the Tony I know. Should I be calling you Dr. DiNozzo?"

Several responses to her words came to mind, but none that would lead in the direction he wanted at this moment. Instead, he kept his eyes on hers, unblinkingly and waiting for an answer to his question from minutes before.

"Recently, I have been getting the feeling that I am being followed. He regularly changes cars, disguises, hair color, methods of following me, and whenever I get close to cornering him he gets away." As Ziva explained, her demeanor changed from joking, annoyed, and defensive to frustrated, exasperated, and seriously ticked off. Her hands were thrown up in the air, and her eyes darted around, expressing her point.

"You ran his plates?"

"There were none to run."

Tony thought for a moment. "Are you okay with bringing McGee into our little mission?"

Ziva hesitated, obviously ashamed that she was being spooked by a tail. The fewer people that knew of such a weakness, in her mind, was better. In fact, Tony believed, she might be wishing she hadn't even told him, even though it seemed a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. "…Yes. But not right now. Tomorrow, maybe." Tony nodded. "I should be getting home now."

"My bed is yours if you want it?" She raised an eyebrow. "I would take the couch, of course."

"No, but thank you. I will see you at work, Tony."

Tony didn't get much more chance to speak with her, per usual, due to their case. A strange one, this had been. Gibbs helping to give birth, Ziva wrestling with a guy and falling into a Christmas tree (she beat him, too, though that was not strange at all); had he mentioned that Gibbs helped to give birth?

He finally caught up with Ziva as she was washing up in the women's restroom. Her green turtleneck had kept her warm, as well as providing a little extra protection from many scratches that could have been sustained during her brawl. It had been a holiday miracle that she hadn't been shot, he could infer from the recount she had told. Still, blood from a cut on her right cheekbone had dripped onto her sweater. In a demented sort of way, the blood on the sweater reminded him of Christmas, red and green.

"You missed some stuff," Tony commented, picking some artificial tree leaves from her tangled hair.

"Thank you." She set the wet paper towel she had been using on the counter in front of her. "Are you going to accept Wendy's invitation?"

He focused on removing more green strands from her hair. "Don't know. The end of an engagement is rather final." Her eyes dropped, he observed in the mirror, to watch her hands fiddle with the paper towel.

"You could see if things have changed."

"I could. If I thought I would be something more than an old rebound."

"Look at me, Tony." He looked again in the mirror, and met her dark-eyed gaze, though still softly combing through her hair.

"It is a decision that you have to make. I have learned that you cannot be always unsure, always second-guessing yourself. Such indecision only gets you hurt from both sides. If you want to try again with her, then go, and believe whole-heartedly that you want to be there. If you think that she is not what you need or want in your life, then do not waste your time and hers by going. She is but one of many women out there, though many of them may not be worth you."

"Well, what do you know, I think I've plucked an entire Christmas tree out of your hair. I really should get out of here before someone comes in here and assumes naughty things." With that statement that evaded a necessary outcome, he unlocked the door and left.

A/N: So…I did not enjoy this break from NCIS! I liked this episode, and thought it was very good. However, as a Tiva fan, I cannot say that I enjoyed the whole Wendy sub-plot (grrrrr, I don't like her very much).

What do you think of this update? The story has changed drastically from what I intended when posting the first chapter, but I like it, and hope you do too.

I will also soon be posting a very short post-episode one-shot for "Newborn King", titled "A Glass Mug". Tiva fans will probably enjoy it! (I feel really weird saying this, because I don't like to self-advertise, but I do really think some of you might like it)

Review, please?