Washington DC—Abby's Lab

"Abby," Eric was saying, "I could really use your help with this. I don't know what I'm doing…" He was struggling with her mass spectrometer.

"Then get out of the way," McGee advised him harshly, snatching the samples from his hands.

"I wouldn't be in the way," Eric informed him irritably, "if you would give me something to do!"

"We gave you something to do," Tim retorted. "We can't help it that you can work your fancy tech stuff, but not simple lab equipment."

"I was told to assist Abby. She is currently lying on the floor, worried sick about her friends, so shouldn't I be lying with her?"

It would be safe to say that McGee misinterpreted that statement, because out of nowhere, his fist connected with Eric's nose.

"OW!"

At Eric's yell, Abby sat bolt upright, and screamed when she saw the blood streaming down Eric's face, the murderous glares between them, and their stances, with fists readily raised.

"Oh, no!" she yelled, scrambling up to stand between them. "No, no, no, no, no! Stop it! Eric, McGee, stop it now! Don't you have the common decency not to get blood all over my lab?"

Eric felt like he needed to reciprocate that hit. "Okay," he said coldly. "We can go somewhere else."

"No. I don't know what this is about, but I'm tired of the two of you fighting all the time!"

"Abby, you didn't hear what he said!"

"No, Tim, I didn't. But I did see the aftermath of you punching Eric in the nose!" She turned on Eric accusingly. "I hope you're not expecting any sympathy from me. I don't want to know what you said, but whatever it was must have been really bad for McGee to just hit you like that. He's not the kind to just throw punches without a reason. When Gibbs gets down here, I'll let him deal out the punishment however he sees fit, but I think you both deserve something equally bad!"

"Abby, shouldn't you call Gibbs if we're waiting for him to come?"

"No, it'd be a waste of a phone call," Gibbs answered for her, entering the lab.

Oh, yeah, McGee remembered. The gut.

"So? Is anyone going to tell me what happened, or am I supposed to guess?"

Everyone answered him at once.

"Boss, you don't understand, you didn't hear what he said—"

"He hit me for no reason!"

"Gibbs, I don't know, I just woke up and—"

"HEY!" Gibbs yelled. "One at a time! Abby, you first."

"I was trying to calm down – we all know that I can't function when I'm worried – and all of a sudden I heard Eric yell, and I sat up and saw them standing there ready to kill one another!"

"I'll take care of it," Gibbs said angrily, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it into Eric's hands, then dragging both men into the elevator.

Just as the doors were closing, Gibbs remembered something. He stuck his hand out to stop them.

"Abs? You okay for a few minutes?"

"Yes," she said forcefully, glaring at McGee. "I can take care of myself."
"All right, then."
This time he let the doors close.

Washington DC?

After a few seconds of silence, Ziva's curiosity won out.

"Tony," she asked softly, not wanting to upset him, "who were you talking about? Who…?" She trailed off.

He answered even more quietly, with pain in his voice. "Jeanne died in the accident we investigated this morning."

No! Couldn't he see it as the sign it was? she thought. Why wouldn't he tell me? Does he not trust me?

When she said nothing, he looked up at her. He knew he shouldn't have told her; that her thoughts would go exactly where his had.

"Tony," she said finally, struggling to ask the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. "Why… Why did you not tell me?" Why don't you trust me?

"I knew exactly what you'd think."

She was shocked. She had been trained to be unpredictable. "How could you possibly—?"

"Because I know you Ziva. And because I thought the same thing. I knew I'd be the next target. I was willing to be next, if it protected you for a little bit longer. I just didn't count on them taking us both at the same time."

"Tony, that is not right. I never asked you to do that for me."

Now Tony was starting to get frustrated. "Don't you get that I don't need you to ask? You're my partner; it's my job to have your back!"

"Then it is my job to have yours too, yes?" He inhaled sharply, ready to argue. She stopped him with one look. "Tony, my father is ordering all of these people killed to bring me back to Israel. I do not want you to be in that number. I am sorry that you were brought into this. Hopefully you will be let go soon."

"Ziva, don't you think that's a little naive? The only way they might consider that is…" His eyes widened, and his voice was filled with a pleading urgency. "Ziva! Ziva, think about what you'd be giving up!"

"I am afraid you are too late, Tony. I have decided to agree to go back."