A/N: Oh wow. After last chapter, I hope you're ready for this. : ( I can say I had some trouble writing this, even though the ending of the story itself will be amazing. Enjoy, I don't own anything.

This is really short, I know, but I didn't want to put the last chapter and this together.

Tony's car weaved in and out of traffic, not caring for speed limit nor civilians. Why did Ziva have to live twenty minutes away? What he'd heard played through his mind as he drove, forcing the car to go to speeds it had never reached before.

Later, he'd wish he'd gone faster.

The laughter that he knew so well, Ziva whimpering in obvious fear – something he'd never heard before – and those words. "You know you can't resist me."

This wasn't right. She wouldn't call him if she wasn't afraid or in danger.

Later, he'd wish he'd seen the whole thing from the start.

The car barely missed another as he forced it into park, dodging out the door. He didn't care to lock it. Let teenagers steal it. Tony forced himself to run as fast as he could, though he could only hope it was fast enough.

He slowed down instinctively at her door, taking a spare key she'd given him once. Now, he couldn't remember why she'd ever given it to him, but he thanked God for it. The door clicked open silently. His eyes widened at the scene in front of him, and hands reached for his gun.

A half naked Ziva, her arms roped and legs roped. Charlee, pinning her against a wall. He'd known there was something wrong with the FBI agent. But this…?

Without another thought, Tony threw himself forward and pushed the other man off of his partner. Charlee, temporarily disoriented, turned to face him, eyes hot with anger. But he was not given a chance to move. The NCIS agent drew his gun and pointed it, at point-blank range, towards the player. The almost rapist of his partner.

"Get out," he screamed, "get out! Before I fucking blow your head off!"

Charlee smiled at him, a peculiar smile that he'd almost taken as a warning, and grabbed the shirt of his. He kissed Ziva one more time before trying to pass by Tony.

Later, he'd wished he'd taken the shot.

He didn't make it far without falling. Tony's eyes turned to slits at the kiss to his partner and his arm came up, connecting with Charlee's face and giving him a satisfying crunch. Charlee fell, staring for only a few seconds, at the angry NCIS agent and the gun, before he scrambled out, fast, barely grabbing his bag.

Tony rushed to shut the door and lock it before turning to his partner. She looked a million years younger, and only now did he realize just how weak she was compared to before. "Oh God, Ziva," he whispered tenderly.

A pocketknife came from his back pocket and the man cut the ropes as carefully as possible. The ropes now free, she collapsed against him.

"Tony," she whispered hoarsely. He slid the pocket knife into his pocket, the gun into its holder, and pulled her tight against him. No matter what, they were still partners.

This was all it took for him to forgive her. His arms surrounded her and he carried her to her bedroom. Tony sat on the bed, simply holding her in his arms.

Mossad. Somalia. Now this. Hadn't she been through enough?

"Tony," she whispered again. He pulled her tighter and kissed her head softly.

Later, when she'd fallen asleep in his arms, he'd wished that he could have saved her from this.