Ziva couldn't stop living a nightmare. She kept seeing herself stumble out of the cab, completely wasted, and then stabbing that marine with the knife. And once she stabbed him once, and he fell over, she kept seeing herself turning around and stabbing people right in the heart, one by one, complete, innocent strangers.

"Hey, you, you there." Ziva looked up and stared at the man in the other cell. He stuck his hands through, resting his elbows against the bars, "What are you in for?" He wasn't a skinny man, but he wasn't fat; a nice build, Ziva did have to admit that, but definitely nowhere near as good-looking as Tony. He had short, blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. He smiled at her, a creepy smile, Ziva had to add, and she quickly wiped her tears away from her eyes.

"I was accused of murdering a marine. I was drunk." She whispered the last part, but the man heard it.

"Ah, I see. Accent there. Foreign. Middle-east?"

"Mossad, yes."

"Mossad…" He smiled, "Mossad." His eyes darted to her neck, where her star of David necklace was, "You're a Jew?"

Her hand involuntarily flew to her neck, clasping the star in his hand, "Yes, I am. Is there a problem with that?"

"No, not at all."

"What are you in here for?" Ziva asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Robbed a department store," He shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh." She mumbled, and then turned her head to stare down at the dirty floor. She wanted nothing but to be talking to Tony rather than this man that she didn't even know….a criminal.

"You okay?"

"Why should I be okay? I am in jail for something I did not do. I did not kill that marine. I work for a federal agency that tries to catch men who kill marines, why would I kill one myself? I was not asked to…." She rambled on, but the man stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…you're a fed?"

She stopped, abruptly, and turned to look at him, "Yes." She said, simply, as if it was no big deal.

"And you killed a man? A marine?"

"No, I did not kill anyone!" Ziva said, standing up. He backed away.

"Look, lady, I'm sorry."

"It's Ziva. Ziva David." She outstretched her hand to him.

"John Gretty. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," She smiled, pulling her hand away, after he shook it, and wiping it on her cargo pants.

"So…Ziva…"

Ziva sighed. This is going to be a long night…where is Tony when you need him the most?

Tony DiNozzo knew that he shouldn't be doing this. Not in the middle of the night, when HQ was closed. But he had gone back to his apartment, taken a cat nap, like Ziva asked him too, and then went to go and grab the knife, when he realized that Ziva still had it with her….in her cargo pants. So the PD probably confiscated it, making Tony really annoyed. He hated dealing with the stupid people working Washington DC PD.

But, first, before he decided to ask the PD at the desk if they had confiscated a knife from her, he decided to go and see her first. It felt as if he hadn't seen her in forever. He almost ran down the hallway to her cell, he was so excited.

He shoved open the door, but then realized that the cell next to Ziva, that was unoccupied before, was no occupied by a man in his mid-thirties that was obviously trying to get Ziva, who was still sitting cross-legged on her bed.

Ziva heard the door open, and her head snapped up, her face lighting up like New years eve in NY as she rushed over to the cell, "Tony!" She almost yelled, laughing as she stuck her hands through the bars, hungrily fishing for his hands. She found then, intertwined her fingers with his, and smiled at him, "Tony." She smiled.

"Hey, Z." He smiled back; he couldn't help it.

"Did you catch Amy?"

Tony sighed, "No…not yet. I'm sorry, Ziva. When we got there, she was gone. She left her cell. But listen, Ziva…" he got closer to the bars, "You know that knife?"

Her face paled, "Yes."

"I need it back." He said, "Please, Ziva."

"Did you sleep like I asked you to?"

He sighed, "Will you give me the knife if I say I did?"

"Yes. I managed to keep it away from the PD when they searched me," She said, "Did you sleep, Tony?"

"Yes, Ziva. I did. Only a little, hour long nap, but I did." She traced the dark circles under his eyes with her thumb.

"I believe you," She muttered, and then slyly reached down, pulling out her knife and slipping it into Tony's pocket, "Sleep more, Tony. And get me out of here."

"I promise you, I will." He said, pecking her on the side of the cheek before running out of the cell block.

Ziva sighed, "So…who was that?" John asked from behind her. She turned around.

"A friend." She said, simply, and then lay down on her bed.

"Looks like he's more than just a friend."

"None of your business." She spat, crawling under the itchy covers, pulling them up to her neck.

"Hey, listen, I'm just tryin' to make friendly conversation."

"And I am listening."

"So is he your boyfriend?"

"Co-worker. Partner. Significant other." She chose a different term for Tony then boyfriend. Boyfriend was just too immature for her.

"Ooo, Co-worker's dating! How does your boss feel about that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Answer the question, please."

"I would rather my boss not know."

"Ah, I see. Well wouldn't-"

"I am trying to go to sleep, please. Goodnight, John."

He huffed, "Fine. We'll talk tomorrow, Zee-vah." Suddenly, she sat up straight in her bed, her dark, cold eyes glaring at John, "What?"

"What did you just call me?" She seethed.

"Zee-vah?"

She let out a frustrated groan, "No. No! Only Tony is allowed to call me that! No, it is Ziva or nothing!"

"Who's Tony?"

"That man. My significant other!"

"Oh." He said, "Goodnight, Ziva."

"Goodnight, John." She spat before settling back down into bed. Ziva could tell that she was starting to go insane. She needed Tony to get her out of here, and quick, before she actually committed a murder…and she had a feeling that John was going to be her next victim.

"Gibbs!" Tony yelled into his cell phone as he crossed the dark parking lot towards his Mustang, "Listen to me, Gibbs! You better get Ziva's ass out of there right now!"

"Excuse me, DiNozzo?"

"You heard me, Gibbs. Get. Her. Out. Of. There. NOW!"

And with that, he slammed his phone. Gibbs, who was standing in autopsy with Ducky gave a half smile and then shut his cell phone, "Duck?"

"Yes, Jethro?"

"You sure you're not an agent? 'Cause you'd make a damn good one." He said, and then promptly left autopsy, leaving a very confused Ducky behind.