"Where should I go?" - Alice. "That depends on where you want to end up." - The Cheshire Cat

- Alice In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

Gibbs walked back into the bullpen, balancing coffee in one hand and a pile of files in the other. It had been a slow week. So slow that Director Vance had given his team cold cases to go over and input into the system. The pile he was carrying was destined for Tony's desk, and he smiled to himself. DiNozzo's face? Priceless.

After dropping the files, he set the coffee down and turned to the two women sat at Ziva's desk.

'My chair, Abs?'

Abby turned to him with a cheeky grin, while Ziva smiled and took another bite of her sandwich.

'Not until we're done, Gibbs'.

'Done with what?'

'Choosing Ziva's tattoo'. Abby said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'We're going tonight after work. Then she's staying at mine. And you can't choose a tattoo unless you're comfortable'.

'Ziva looks comfy enough', Gibbs pointed out. 'And I'm hoping she's the one choosing…?"

Abby looked indignant. 'Gibbs! I'm hurt. I am, after all, the expert'.

'Umm-hmm'. Gibbs smiled. 'Don't you have work to do, Abs?'

She stood up and pushed his chair back over towards him. 'Nope. Slow week for you, slow week for me. But I think we're just about done'. She nudged Ziva with her elbow, almost making her spill her mug of tea. 'Laters?'

Ziva nodded, unable to speak through her sandwich. She held up a hand. 'Later', she mumbled, as Abby sauntered off towards the stairs.

'Hey, Abs!' Gibbs called after her. 'What you decided on?'

Ziva coughed as she swallowed. 'You could ask me….'

Abby laughed as she turned around. 'Your initials on Ziva's…..well, I'll leave you to figure out where'. With a final wave she was gone.

Gibbs moved to stand behind Ziva, but all he could see on her screen was her email. He moved closer and leaned down, his mouth by her ear, his voice quiet and his tone flirtatious.

'A tattoo, huh?'

'Yes, Gibbs. A tattoo.' She smiled as she began typing.

'Hmmm'. He watched her fingers moving over the keyboard, his breath warm on her cheek. 'Think I maybe prefer you calling me Gibbs. Sexier'. He caught her hand as she reached up behind her to give him a head slap, and placed it gently back down on the keyboard. 'Did Abby say my initials on your ass?'

Ziva snorted with laughter. 'She did, but that is not what I am getting'.

'No?'

'No'. She paused to send an email before continuing. 'I thought that with your track record – and mine – initials were not a good idea just yet'. She turned to smile at him, and despite returning her smile, he felt slightly stung. And worried. He didn't care about the tattoo. But he did care that his….track record…seemed to be nagging at Ziva.

Ziva had turned back to the screen and resumed her typing. 'And I would not get a tattoo there. It is always the first place to go fat and wrinkly. I have not really decided yet. I will…..see what I feel like. Later'.

Gibbs straightened up. 'Sure that's a good idea?'

She smiled up at him again. 'I will not get anything outrageous. I promise'.

He sat down at his desk and took a mouthful of coffee. 'You told Abby that?' He watched her over the rim of his cup as he thought how much he loved to see her laugh.

'Abby knows the kind of thing I like. She will behave herself'.

Their conversation was interrupted as Tony and McGee emerged from the elevator, arguing loudly about whose turn it was to buy lunch. Tony stopped short as he saw the pile of files on his desk.

'You're joking'. McGee laughed as he headed towards his own desk, patting Tony on the shoulder as he passed.

'Enjoy, Tony'.

Tony scowled as he dumped his bag. 'Hey, if I give you the money for the burgers, will you do this lot?'

'Not a chance'.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows and stood up. 'Plenty to go round. Next lot's yours, McGee'. He walked towards the elevator, pausing by Ziva's desk long enough to speak quietly so that the others could not hear.

'Hey, Ziva.' She looked up at him. 'Take care of yourself?'

She nodded. 'I always do'. A slow smile spread across her face. 'Gibbs'.

Gibbs sat at his kitchen table the following evening, waiting for the saucepan of water to boil. He took a swallow of the open bottle of beer as he heard Ziva climb into the shower. He had not managed to speak to her alone at work, but at least she had turned up in one piece. A smile crossed his face. He still had no idea what design she had chosen, if any – he was still surprised she had wanted to get one at all. As he stood up to start the dinner, he thought back to her words the previous day and the smile faded from his face. With your track record….not a good idea…She was right, of course. He ripped open a packet of pasta, tipping more than he intended into the pan. He was suddenly furious with himself, not just because of his past failed relationships that he now thought must be worrying Ziva but because he realized he had no idea how to reassure her. He wasn't sure whether he could. He knew how he felt. So did she. But neither of them really knew what would happen in one, five, ten, twenty years time. Hell, you're almost twice her age. In twenty years' time you might not be here. His anger mixed with a creeping feeling of guilt. He couldn't help thinking that she deserved more than he could offer her. That guilt was starting to become familiar and, not for the first time, he considered whether he should end it. For Ziva's sake. The thought made him feel slightly sick.

His thoughts were interrupted when Ziva entered the kitchen and opened the fridge door to get a drink. She was wearing loose black sweatpants and a sleeveless top, her hair damp and curly from her shower, and he thought how amazingly sexy she looked in something so simple. She turned to him with a smile, and something inside him did a back flip as his heart beat a little faster. You really want to end this? Get a grip. He slipped his hands along her hips and round her waist, and grinned when she winced.

'No sympathy when it's self inflicted, Ziva'. She pulled a face, but allowed him to gently pull her top up to reveal a bandage just above her hip.

'I had to cover it in the shower. It can come off now. If you want to see it'. She smiled, enjoying teasing him.

He concentrated as he moved the waistband of her sweatpants down and slowly pulled off the bandage. Her skin was still a little red and sore, but the tattoo itself was…..beautiful. He couldn't think of another word to describe it. She had chosen a compass in a deep red, small but ornate. Sixteen points were set over three circles, the pattern so delicate it looked as if it had been embroidered. Tiny scripted letters marked north, south, east and west, with the 'N' slightly larger than the others. He looked up at her, and she raised her eyebrows.

'Well?'

He didn't answer, but ran his hand gently over the circle, tracing the ink on her skin. She reached out to touch his cheek, her gaze meeting his.

'Are you disappointed?'

He shook his head, smiling. 'It's beautiful, Ziva.' His fingers traced the points from north to south. 'Surprised, that's all'.

'Surprised I would get a tattoo in the first place, or at the design?'

He shrugged. 'Both'.

She smiled, and reached over to turn off the pasta. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and her words slow.

'My scars are scars. I had no choice. This is art. And I chose it. That makes a difference.' She paused. 'The compass is to remind me that I can go wherever I want to. End up wherever I want to end up. And to remind me of the way home. If I ever get lost again'.

'Where'd you want to end up?' Gibbs hadn't meant to ask the question, and it was a moment before she replied.

'Here'.

Gibbs met her gaze. Her brown eyes were burning into his blue ones. There was so much they could say that neither of them had the words for. In the end, all he could do was shake his head. His voice came out as a whisper.

'You won't get lost, Ziva'. He reached out and stroked her hair. 'Won't let you'.

She smiled, and leaned into his touch. 'I know'.

They stood for several minutes, both lost in thoughts that they would never express out loud. It was Gibbs who finally broke the silence.

'You'll never go fat and wrinkly though. Think you should get the next one on your ass'.