A/N: Hi, guys! So, if any of you have been following me on tumblr (romantically-dysfunctional), you would have possibly seen the regular updates on my rather hectic personal life, so if you were wondering, that is the reason why I haven't been updating. Apologies.

Also, by my plan, this and the epilogue will be the last of this story. (Not that I am ruling out the occasional one-shot in the Hips-verse that I have grown rather fond of, if I do say so myself).

Chapter 34—

The drive to where they had found Scorpion to be 'working' now was not very long from the station, but it seemed to stretch on and on. The atmosphere in the van was static and thick and Ziva's calm aura had dissolved into one of stress and apprehension. Her shoulders were tensed and her jaw was tight, and she had not looked over at him from the passenger's seat in twenty minutes, let alone spoken. Her fingers were locked in her lap, her grip tensing and releasing rhythmically.

The afternoon sun had fallen in the sky, peeking out just over the horizon. A dusky haze filled the Baltimore streets. Tony's white-knuckled fingers gripped the wheel with growing anxiety, and, as much as he respected his friend and colleague, he wished McGee could cover his ears or tuck-and-roll out of the van so that he could talk her down.

She was scared suddenly, and rightly so. This was the man who had overpowered her and mistreated her and sold her off like an inanimate product for years, and she had never, ever been able to do anything about it. A wave of guilt hit Tony when he realised that this feeling, this emotion that had seemingly overcome her, was the reason that she had said no in the first place.

Ziva had always been able to separate emotion from professionalism – she had never had any other choice. How else could she have been a sister to Tali and a dancer to hundreds of anonymous faces out there? How else could she get by, not letting it bother her? But when personal and professional – or whatever this mission could be labelled as – become indecipherably blurred, she struggled to make a cut between the two. There was no middle ground here. There was no way to separate herself appropriately from the situation.

But amongst this suffocation and stress, for the first time, she felt a new understanding of what Tony did for his living, and of just how dedicated he really was. Because, as much as he was doing this to get her once-tormentor off the streets and in his rightful place behind iron bars, he had gone against the words of others, of superiors, to do his duty as a protector of the public. He was not going to let this man slide on a technicality when there was something he could do about it. Even when that something was dangerous and troublesome.

She still had not moved an inch when Tony gently hit the brakes and they parked around the corner from the place that was within fifteen feet of where they had located Scorpion's cell phone. The sky outside had turned grey in the dusk and the street lamps outside had lit up golden. It was just dark enough, though, that he could see her face in the reflection of the windshield.

"Ready to go?" McGee asked, surprisingly tactile. He stuck his head through the two front seats and looked between his co-workers, giving them each individually an ample amount of time to answer, despite Tony really only having any say in it, and he was far too focused on Ziva anyway.

"McGee," Tony replied, his voice low and gravelly. He did not take his eyes from Ziva's reflection, and he saw her eyes move in the glass. "Are the earpieces ready?"

"Yeah," the younger man answered, holding them up as proof, dangling in front of him on his finger. "Whenever you are."

"Okay." He was still staring straight ahead. So was Ziva. He did not seem sure of what to do next for her, so slid out of the car, but before he did, he squeezed her wrist, gesturing for her to come along.

Ziva circled the van, meeting Tony just outside the van's back doors. Her dress was short and tight and, well, it could barely excuse itself for a piece of clothing. The wind was picking up and suddenly her curls – the fake, well-maintained ones that he could not even pretend that he liked more than her natural ones – were blowing wildly about, falling over her shoulders and brushing the sides of her face.

"You're not alright," he said. And no, he couldn't separate his love for her from his determination for this mission. The two were already too intertwined.

"I am fine," she protested, but her lie was obvious. She stared at the shadowed concrete beneath their feet, not able to look him in the eye.

Tony gripped her forearms momentarily and, with his right arm, lifted her chin so she would look in his eyes. "Hey," he whispered. "It's not too late to back out."

Her expression hardened and she took a step back from him. "I never wanted to do this, Tony," she reminded him. "I did it for you."

"Come on, Ziva, we both know there was at least a little part of you that did this to get that asshole off the streets."

"My past with Scorpion was not the reason I agreed to do this!" She seemed to step further away with every word.

"No, but it was an incentive." To that, she did not argue. "Look, it's not important. If I was wrong to string you into this the way I did, then you can tell me. And . . . and this can be over. And maybe we'll never get him behind bars, but maybe that's okay." He looked crestfallen, though, and she knew that that would never be okay. His desire to capture this man came from what she believed to be three places: the first, his determination to never let a criminal go, the second, his relentless vendetta for the guy who beat him up one time, and the third, and most important, was her. Ziva believed that a part of Tony would never feel safe if he was still out there.

Scorpion had not been a free man for long, and he believed it would not be much longer until he started going after those who caused his prolonged misery – though Tony believed that it wasn't nearly prolonged enough. He had tried to protect Ziva and somehow had roped her into doing the protecting.

"You are right – this is all for the better," she admitted, her head down once again. "But I am scared, Tony. This man is not a good person. And I thought that I would never have to see him again and I was wrong. Do you know what that is like?"

"I don't, and I'm sorry that I don't, because if I did, I'd . . ." He had no way to finish that sentence. Yes, he was putting her through something that she would hate and it had been entirely his idea. He had somehow managed to see past the implications of his plan whilst it was forming so perfectly in his head.

"I can do this," she assured him. "I mean, think of Tali. He saw her, he could hurt her, too. I have to keep my family safe."

"I have to keep mine safe, too." He reached for her hand and held it to his chest. She could feel his heart beating through his shirt and jacket.

A sad smile crossed her face, but she grasped him tightly and turned her expression to serious. "Come on, we have a job to do, right?"

That did make him smile, and he let himself be led by her back to the door of the van, where McGee was patiently waiting with an earwig for Ziva and a headset for Tony.

"Good to go?" McGee confirmed. Tony went to speak, but in his place, Ziva gave a firm nod. She puffed up her chest, turned on her heel, and headed towards a small, run-down building tucked away in a corner. She seemed to know it – Scorpion had stationed himself here before. "You sure she's gonna be alright?" McGee asked Tony.

"She's a lot stronger than people assume, McGee," he replied, feeling the butterflies in his stomach continue to flap about wildly, but with a new sense of confidence. She could do this. She had to.