A/N: All right. Well, here is my reaction to the finale. I watched it, and was heartbroken by how wrong I was about the damn ending. I'd hoped for happiness, they gave us the Tramp and one b**** of a cliffie in regards to Daddy Gibbs. Oh well.

I have another chapter in the works for this, but I'm not sure I'm going to post it. I might wait until the premiere to see where it goes. Or, OR... I could post it, and then use it as a spring board for one of my other stories that needed a starting point. I'm tempted... But I'll leave it to you. One or two new chapters on this (possibly screwing me over for the premiere) or leave as is and secure canon-ness?

Also, I got nominated for a competition... My Fairytale Romance fic... Not sure how, not sure why... but thanks! It totally made my week when I saw that nomination email. It was a glaring reminder that I needed to thank all my readers, who are waiting ever so patiently for my slow, Marine Corps butt to update my fics.

So, thanks!

And enjoy, as always!

-CSIGurlie07


When Gibbs opened the door, he knew in his gut that the world as he knew it was at the edge of a precipice.

The house was silent, and dark save for the single lamp that lit up the living room. He'd just gotten back from banging on Ziva's door for an hour, hoping beyond hope she would let him explain—though to explain what he wasn't sure. He'd messed up, more grievously than he ever had in the past, and he knew it. There was no excuse, no valid reason for him to have done what he did. He'd been concerned only for her safety, but she'd shown him earlier exactly what she'd thought of that reasoning.

So when he found her sitting at his flimsy card table, the books Hart had left behind spread in front of her, his heart sank with how broken she seemed, and the knowledge that he had been the one to cause it.

Her head was bowed slightly, as though she hadn't heard him enter. But when her gaze finally lifted to meet his, he knew she was fully aware- of everything. And he didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to trying to explain himself.

He was in serious trouble- not only that, they were in trouble. And that knowledge sent icy fear through his veins.

"Ziva-"

"Don't." Her low voice cut through the empty house. "Don't even..." She couldn't find the words to finish, and it was the only indication that she wasn't so completely calm as her composure suggested. But she hadn't run yet, as she'd promised to. She was still here, so there was still hope, no matter how upset she was in this moment. And Gibbs held onto that mantra like a lifeline- she's still here.

"You weren't there," she continued, her fists clenching at her sides. "Abby was there, McGee was there. Even Vance was there. But you... you weren't."

"Ziva-"

"You. Weren't. There."

Any attempt to explain himself was immediately shut down by the intensity of Ziva's words. Her tone was biting, but Gibbs could hear the heartbreak behind it. She was in turmoil, hurt and confused, and he was lucky that she had found it within herself to even come to him tonight.

"I jumped through the ridiculous bureaucratic hoops, learned more about this country than even you know, a Marine, and cut off all ties to my homeland, all to ensure that I would stay here, with you, free of my father's interference." Brown eyes burned into his. "And you do not even have the decency to show up."

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but she stood menacingly, cutting hims off before he could even start.

"But even then, as I was standing there, alone, I was still naive enough to be worried. While I was renouncing my status as an Israeli I was terrified that the Renosa cartel had caught up to you. Because I was silly enough to believe that only serious bodily harm or death would be the only thing to keep you from being there today."

She took a few steps forward, coming abreast of the table she had just been sitting behind.

"And then, and then, when I did not hear from you the entire day, I was convinced that you truly were dead. But when I come here to check on you, I find this."

Her hand found one of the books the attorney had left behind, and lifted it in a white-knuckled grip.

"Nothing happened with her, Ziva."

"Do not insult me any further than you already have. I know you hold no affection for that woman. I simply do not understand how a lawyer for whom you have only shown mild contempt for in the past could keep you from being there for me. After everything else you did, after going to Mexico by yourself, without telling me- essentially informing me that my fears and my concerns and my desire to keep you safe meant less than dirt to you- you miss the ceremony for her. And apparently, she feels more comfortable in this house- this home you promised would be ours- that she feels entitled to drop by any time she feels like it..."

She shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around it even as she spoke the words.

"It still is ours-"

"Yes, yes, as you said so many times before. Just as you said you trusted me, would be waiting for me." She exhaled sharply. "Well, I was ready, Jethro. Today, when I took that oath, even through my misplaced concern for you, I was ready to come home." Her voice dropped an octave. "And when I did come home tonight- though under much different circumstances than I'd intended- you weren't here. You weren't waiting."

Her voice nearly broke into a sob, but she managed to maintain her bearing, unwilling to let him see any of the distress he knew her to be in. She kept her composure, even as Gibbs' threatened to crumble.

"Well," she continued, "neither am I. Not anymore. I am done waiting. I no longer have the time or the strength to wait for you to let me in. You can keep your secrets, but I refuse to linger in the periphery of your life. I deserve more than being half-in and half-out of everything, Jethro. I am done."

She tossed the offending book away, and swept her keys from the tabletop. With quick, purposeful strides, she tried to brush past him, but his hand shot out and gripped her arm tightly in an unthinking attempt to keep her there, with him. But his hand let go when she tensed and wrenched her arm away.

"Please, Ziva," he pleaded. "Hold on a damn second. Don't I get to say anything?"

"No, Jethro!" she spat angrily, her eyes smoldering dangerously. "No! Your actions have said more than any words you have for me now. I am done holding onto someone who does not want to be held onto. I am done waiting for the trust of a man who has forgotten how to give it. I have had enough."

"Dammit, Ziva, she threatened to kill you! And the team and my father and my damn mother-in-law."

"Oh, you mean the mother-in-law you ruined a case for so that she would not have to pay the consequences of her actions? I find it difficult to believe that you are actually concerned for her- she did have a hand in killing someone, and we all know how you feel about people like that- what goes around comes around, yes? That is how you justified her killing that man. You deliberately let your mother-in-law, his killer, go free as a result of that philosophy, yes?"

"Ziva-"

"And was this threat against her life, and my life, issued before or after you went to Mexico?" she asked, not giving him time to interject. "Was it before or after I told you I could not handle the secrets and mistrust? Was it before or after you made the decision to throw everything away?"

"I wasn't going to let Bell get his hands on you," Gibbs growled, anger rearing its ugly head.

"So I am just a damsel in distress, then? Those floozies Tony loves to watch in his movies who are incapable of helping themselves, protecting themselves, and must wait for their knights in shining armor? I am capable of protecting myself, and of protecting you. You know that- you are simply an idiot for trying to ignore it. The only reason I was ever, for once in my life, the damsel in distress was all the secrets. The secrets, the lies, everything you seem unable to let go of... they all put me in that desert, ready to die. And I told you before you ran to Mexico that I was not ever going to go there again. Not even for you."

"Ziva-"

"Enough. Just stop. I do not want to hear any more. I told you all of this in Abby's lab, when I was still foolish enough to think you might actually accept my help. But you made your decision, and now we must both live with the consequences. To be completely honest, I am relieved to finally know where I stand with you."

The torment in her eyes was suddenly tamped out by the severe opacity of an angry wariness he had not seen in her since Ari was still alive. And just as she had been then, it was as if she were looking upon a stranger, and that bit into his soul more sharply than any rebuke she could have offered. There was no reproach, none of the visible fire he had come to associate with her. She had shut herself off completely.

Finally, without another word, she brushed past him, and this time she was able to grasp the doorknob before Gibbs could recover his senses.

"Where will you go?"

The question came out plaintive, betraying his need for her to remain with him. If not in his house, their house, then in America, in DC. If she disappeared as she had promised- he didn't even want to consider that option.

"Too many people have sacrificed to get me this citizenship, and the full NCIS Special Agent status that comes with it. I cannot throw it away." She regarded him with a cold look. "But I assure you that if I had not taken that test, and if I had not taken that oath today, I would already be gone. And you would have never heard from me again." Her eyes left him once more, dismissing him as she opened the door to look out at the darkening night.

Her final words drifted over her shoulder with heartbreaking professionalism.

"I will be at NCIS at 0700 sharp."

And with that, the door shut softly behind her, though she might as well have slammed it for the shattering it wreaked on Gibbs' world. And suddenly, he was completely and utterly alone.

His fingers drifted over the small slip of paper he had tucked into his pocket, the paper on which he'd so recently scribbled one more rule.

Sometimes, you're wrong.

Well, he was wrong this time, in every sense of the word. He was wrong, and he knew it, was ready to admit it. But there was no one left to tell.

She was gone.