So I AM updating this story again today...so please enjoy! This is a super long chapter for me...it took me forever to write, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!! THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING I LOVE YOU ALL! They make me smile every time! Review and thanks!

McGee-

Listen, I understand your concern for me and my partner, but please. Do not assume. Do not assume, McGee. Oh, what I would give to be with you, Gibbs, and my partner again. Life is pure hell in Mossad. Pure hell, McGee. Another operative gone the teensiest bit wrong, and you are getting shot at. By your own team members, McGee! I would like that address for my partner. I want to be able to contact him over…well however long we are gone for. McGee, I do not know how much more I can take of this crude behavior. They are a thousand times worse than they were when I was here before. I can not take this anymore. I miss America, and when I was in America, I missed Israel. Is there really no place for me anymore, McGee? Is there really no place that is quite suitable for me? Maybe I should be on a boat in the middle of the sea like Tony, between Israel and America, in a place where men are actually fair, and team members actually care about each other. This is going to be a horrible time for me. I do not want to live here. If I knew that I could get out of Israel alive, I would get onto a plane tonight and fly back to Washington. I would give anything to get out of here. I miss you all. So much, it hurts. For once, last night, when I was trying to fall asleep, I thought of all of your beautiful faces. Your chubby, cute one and your cu-tip haircut, Abby's loveable gothic features and her black ponytails, Gibbs' silver hair and that half-smile he always gives, Ducky's rejuvenated old-man's face with his glasses and his autopsy scrubs, even Palmer and that curly hair with those glasses….especially my partner. Oh, his short brown hair, his famous 'DiNozzo' smile, the way he laughs, that cute little dimple he gets on one side of his cheek. The little freckle that he has on his right forearm, and even the little brown hairs on his hairy little butt.And while I was thinking of all of you, I started to cry. And yes, McGee, I know what you are thinking. Ziva has emotions? Yes, I know, but I do miss you all, and I do deeply care for you all….even Tony.

-Ziva

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Furious, Ziva slammed the door to her apartment and threw down the file her father had given her. She didn't want another undercover mission. She would only go on undercover missions with Gibbs…McGee…Tony. She glanced at her watch, something she recently acquired in Israel, and realized it was almost 0300h in the morning. She groaned and spat in bitter Hebrew as she walked into her newly designed, picture-covered bedroom, pulling out her pajamas; Tony's t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She picked them up and started out of her bedroom, knowing fully that she didn't want to take a shower in the disgusting brown sludge that came out of her shower head. She made it over to the public bathrooms and stepped in, nodding at a lady who was brushing her teeth. Ziva made her way over to the lone shower head and stripped before turning on the water. She knew that she had about three minutes until the hot water cut off, and she had to time everything precisely.

One minute for shampoo, one minute for conditioner, and one minute for body wash. While the hot water caressed her back, scorching it in its intense heat, she thought about Tony, how good he hade made her feel the last time she and he were together. Every inch of her yearning body ached for him, and she groaned. She wanted him. She needed him, but her thoughts for him were interrupted as she gasped and retracted from the water; the shampoo from her hair sliding down her back and hitting the cuts she had received that day from the barbed wire training. She stared down at her feet and noticed the dried blobs of blood under her feet as well as the mixture of blood and water that was flowing down the drain. She sighed. The cuts had opened back up.

Trying to remove the pain from her thoughts, she squeezed the conditioner out of the bottle and into a small blob on her hand. She worked it through the tangles in her hair as well as watching the water turn into a mixture of red and brown. She felt disgusting as a shiver rushed through her body, causing her whole being to tremble as the soap ran down her pain filled back. She arched her body and leant her head back, trying to rinse her hair as well as not let the cuts get anymore water or soap in them.

Suddenly, the water temperature changed to cold and she jumped away from it, cursing as she realized she wasn't going to be able to use her soap today. She pulled on her sweat pants and dried the slashes on her back in the mirror. It almost looked as if she had been whipped rather hard. She vaguely thought about what Gibbs and Tony would have done if they had seen the cuts. Gibbs probably would have tracked down the bastard and arrested him, whereas Tony wouldn't have slept for days until he found him, and when he did, he would have just shot him at the spot. She smiled inwardly, to herself as she slipped Tony's shirt over her head. After brushing her teeth, smiling as she realized that the water was clear, she started out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel as she did so. She wasn't paying attention; her head was down at the ground, thinking about NCIS…about her family; she didn't even notice that she collided with someone.

She stumbled back, still looking down at her feet as she caught herself before she fell, "Sorry." Ziva said, in fluent Hebrew, "I did not mean to…I wasn't looking…."

"No, that's all right." He said in a thick, Israeli accent, "It's perfectly fine." He kept his large, warm hands on her arms as she looked up at him. He had dark hair, in a grown-out buzz cut with a matching five o'clock shadow that continued to grow. He smiled at her with his deep brown, inviting eyes, "Ziva David, yes?" He asked, and she immediately became intent.

"Yes, that's me. What? Am I a popular topic?" She joked.

"Of course." He said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You're the director's daughter…but they never mentioned how gorgeous you are. Funny, you would think that that would be the first thing they would say." She smiled.

"Sure. Whatever you say. Listen, I really need to go though. You know, get to bed."

"Want me to help you?"

Her eyes flickered to his for a second, studying his features. This wasn't the first time that someone had been so blunt as to what his intentions were with her; before she went to America, she would sleep with anyone in Mossad, especially if she was 'interrogating' them. Sex was a very good interrogation weapon, maybe, perhaps why Gibbs was so good at interrogations. However, now that she had been in America, and she didn't sleep with just anyone, she wasn't even prepared. Her back definitely was not ready for a wild sex session, and she didn't think she ever wanted to replace Tony's with what she was thinking about doing with the man she didn't even know that was standing in front of her. Her heart ached as she stared at his features, "What is your name?" She asked.

"Special Agent Michael Rivkin, Mossad." He smiled and stuck his hand out to her. She laughed.

"Officer Ziva David, Mossad. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" She almost laughed out loud at his bluntness, however, the question still presided: Did she want to sleep with him? She could almost picture what would have happened if Tony was here with her. She could almost see his eyes turn dark and his fist collide with Michael's. She smiled.

"Yes…" She groaned, thinking of Tony…Tony…Tony…and that was when he swept her away, shoving her up against the wall in her apartment. Everything was happening too fast. His lips collided with hers, and she couldn't seem to stop it. This was a complete stranger, someone she didn't even know, and he was kissing her senselessly. Part of her body wanted him to stop, was yelling at her, screaming at her 'This isn't Tony…' and then another part of her wanted him to continue. As he forced her mouth open and his tongue into hers, she felt her pants drop to her ankles, a cold draft flowing up her legs. Instinctively, she started unbuttoning his dress shirt. He only let go of her so that he could get his shirt off before shoving his hands up the back of her shirt and caressing her breasts. She moaned unconsciously, even though her mind was protesting everything. Her body, however, wasn't listening. She felt as if she was betraying Tony, betraying everyone. His lips left hers as he pulled her shirt over her head and discarded it onto the floor next to her pants. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her down on the bed before continuing, his lips shoved up against hers again. His hands fumbled with her bra, finally taking it off before, throwing it onto the floor. She opened her eyes during the kiss, and it didn't seem as if he noticed. She stared at the thousands of pictures of Tony she had applied to her wall, trying to convince herself that this was him, that this man that was undressing her was Tony.

"Ziva…" He moaned, purring her name as he traced kisses down her neck, cupping a breast in his hand and squeezing it before placing a kiss on top of it. Without thinking, her hands reached for his pants, undoing the belt and the top button, the fly, and shoving them down, his underwear coming off in the process. He quickly stepped out of them, his eyes lighting up as he realized that he had in fact won. She felt his warm thumbs slip into the strings of her underwear and pull it down, flinging them off as he slowly entered her. She wasn't going to scream. She was a screamer, but she wasn't going to scream. Getting no reaction from her, he was annoyed and started going faster. She started a light moan, but knew that it would only get louder. She finally started to scream, wrapping her arms around his waist as he bucked his hips and climaxed inside of her. He started round two, and she started to scream again, her hips matching his rhythm before she realized that she couldn't take it anymore. Her body didn't want this, didn't want him.

"Stop! STOP!" She screamed, letting go of him and placing her feet on his chest, shoving hard as he feel off of the bed and hit the ground with a large 'boom'. She stood up and quickly ran into the other room, grabbing Tony's shirt and slipping it over her head, wondering briefly why she hadn't reached for her weapon. She would have shot him, but her mind had been too distracted with Tony, "Shit." She cursed in Hebrew, "Sorry. Michael." She said, walking back into the bedroom just as he was pulling on his pants, the pain flickering through his face.

"It's okay. It was obvious that you weren't ready." He said, gesturing to the walls, where her pictures were, "Still getting over someone?"

"We never broke up, Michael. We were never together." Ziva sighed at what they could have been. She didn't realize what she had had until it was gone.

"Then why are his pictures all over you wall?" He studied one of them, one of Tony smiling his famous 'DiNozzo' smile, "Wait, I recognize this man. I've seen him before."

"Where?" Ziva asked, walking over to him and smiling at the picture.

"Your father showed it to me. I don't remember what he said." Ziva studied his face.

"You are lying."

He turned to look at her, "I am sorry, Ziva." He said, kissing her on the side of the cheek and pulling on his shirt, buttoning up the buttons as he started for the doorway, "If you ever need help though, even if you just want to talk. Call me."

"I will." Ziva nodded, "Thank you, Michael. And I am sorry. I was not ready. Forgive me."

"I forgive you. I was too forward with my actions. Shalom," He said, as he started out of the apartment.

"Shalom." She called out, closing the door behind him. She groaned and started towards the bedroom, crawling under the covers and turning out the light. Her heart and mind were racing. Tony…Michael…Tony…why did this have to happen to her? To her of all people? She groaned, realizing just how horrible everything was. She wanted to talk to McGee…but she doubted that he had replied to her email yet. She wanted to talk to Abby…but she doubted that she could even get a hold of her. She even wanted to talk to Gibbs, but based on what McGee had said, she was rather afraid to talk to a 'new' Gibbs. And Tony…oh how much she wanted to talk to Tony….she remembered their last conversation too, in the airport terminal, getting ready to part their separate ways, as Tony had said, just like in the movies. She smiled a little as she closed her eyes in the dark room, the faint sunlight shining through, creating the only sense of security. Mossad would want her up in an hour anyways. She groaned as she remembered their conversation…

"Tony, I do not want to go." She sighed, and he grasped her hands in his, staring her straight in the eyes, piercing her.

"I know you don't, and you think that I wanna spend the rest of my life on a ship? I hate ships, how do you expect me to live on them?"

"I hate my father, and yet I have to deal with him, Tony. We both do not want to leave." He placed one hand on the side of her face, cupping her cheek.

"I know. But we have to."

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" Ziva asked, pleading for him to stay with her. She didn't want to leave. She just admitted to a man that she's loved for three years, that she was in love with him, and he was in love with her, and yet they were leaving for…no one knows when. They could never see each other again.

"I don't know." Tony sighed, the pain flickering through his face, mimicking his partner's expression exactly. They were more than just partners. Partners. Best friends. Lovers. Soulmates."You shot down my idea of running away together."

She rolled her eyes, "That is because it was…cliché, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess...but I guess you could say that this is moment, right here is cliché as well." he lowered his mouth down against hers, the passion roaring through their bodies, wanting the other for the most that they could, pulling on each other, trying to make the other one realize that they wanted them, needed them more than they'd like to admit. A collective amounts of 'ooos' and 'ahhhhs' brought them out of their fantasy world as they let go, heavily breathing as he rested his forehead against hers, staring deep into her eyes, their noses touching, "Goodbye, Zi." He said, kissing her one more time.

"Goodbye, Tony." She said, kissing him one more time, but letting her lips linger on his for a moment before they let go and picked up their carry-on bags, not wanting to go the other way. They stared at each other for as long as they could before the crowd blocked their view of the other.

She relived that moment over and over again before she finally could feel the emotions pouring out of her body. She was Mossad, she wasn't supposed to show emotions, but she was showing them. She could feel the hot tears pouring down her face, streaking it and making her realize that she needed them all more than she had ever needed them. Tony…his face, his famous smile. She cried harder. She brought her knees up to her chest and assumed a fetal position, squeezing her pillow and rolling around in the bed, trying to get the pain to magically go away. The cuts on her back burned in protest, and the tears kept falling.

"I'm not the only person I'm worried about hurting, Ziva."

"That's because you're a good person."

The tears kept falling, and she stifled a sob as she remembered their memories.

"Have you ever lied to someone you love, Ziva?"

"Yes."

"Did they ever forgive you?"

"They never found out."

Jeanne…she remembered her jealousy, and then the hurt and pain she felt for Tony when she left. More tears. She couldn't stop them. All of the emotions that she had had bottled up, hiding from Tony for three years, were finally being released.

"What?"

"You don't look so bad. McGee said you were a wreck. I was just gonna tossel your hair. Sometimes it makes you smile."

"Sorry."

Why she took that undercover mission so seriously, she didn't know. She had shot other men before, why was shooting a serial killer any different? And why did she block Tony out?

"Well, I've been watching you from afar Tony, which is why I know how much you cared for Jeanne."

"Ahhh, your timing is impeccable Ziva."

"And how much it hurt when she left... so, what happens now?"

"If this is a pep-talk, I give you a D-"

"Tony, even if by some miracle Jeanne did forgive you, would you be willing to be Tony DiNardo full-time; to leave your entire life for her?"

She remembered how much it hurt. She remembered how hurt he looked. They both wanted each other at the time, Ziva assumed, but they didn't do anything about it. She cursed inwardly at herself. That was almost a year ago. She and Tony could have been together for almost a year. But he was still getting over Jeanne...over her...more tears. Jeanne.

"You ever think about soulmates?"

"They were on Decca once, right? Sing me a few bars, I'll get it."

"You'll never get it."

They were soulmates. She had been hinting at him that they may be in fact, soulmates for each other. The african-american woman proved that. "Have you found your soulmate, miss?" She hadn't even yelled at her or glared at her for calling her 'miss'. She remembered that she had turned her head away and started pretending to draw on the table before the woman placed a hand on her arm and shook her, "When you find your soulmate, miss, you will know." She knew. Tony was her soulmate, none other.

"Paris….that's when it must have happened."

"The two of them alone, in another world…"

"Putting their lives in each others hands, every day."

"Not to mention the long nights."

"It was inevitable."

"Nothing is inevitable."

The last moment that they had together as NCIS special agents. Together in Ducky's autopsy, drinking. The last moment she remembered, the ones that broke both of their hearts, scarred them for life, changed their course forever were the ones that escaped Leon Vance's throat, and caused Ziva to cry the hardest she had ever in her entire life. She didn't care if anyone saw, if anyone heard her. She didn't care.

"Officer David. The Liaison position at NCIS is being terminated. You're going home."

"Agent DiNozzo. You've been reassigned. Agent Afloat. USS Ronald Reagan. Pack your bags, you fly out tomorrow."

She knew, at that moment, that she didn't want Michael as her lover, she didn't want the Director as her father; she didn't want any of them. She wanted Tony as her lover, and she wanted Gibbs as her father. She wanted McGee as her brother and Abby as her sister. She wanted Ducky as her grandfather, and even Palmer as a cousin. She wanted them all. Mossad was never home, nor would it ever be. Dawn broke through her windows, and her alarm went off. She groaned, got out of the bed she never slept in, wiped her tears away, and changed her clothes before walking out of her apartment and down the stairs to go and get one of her many daily cups of coffee.

In Mossad she learned exactly why Gibbs drank so much coffee; to stay awake, so he wouldn't have to dream. He drank to take away the pain.