A/N: Spoilers for Kill Ari II and Dead Man Walking here. Also a reference to Ziva possibly being bi-sexual, but just a passing reference at that.

Chapter Five

A knock at McGee's door forced him to look up. There was only one person he really wanted to see right now, and she was in a different country.

The knocking persisted, followed by a voice. "Tim, I know you're home. Please answer."

He sighed and stood, trudging to the door and opening it. "What do you want, Abby?"

She gave him a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. "I'm trying. But . . . not really."

"Oh, Timmy," Abby murmured, gently hugging him. She mumbled into his hair. "Ziva will be okay. Tony will take good care of her." He let out a sigh and she backed up, looking at his face. "That's probably not what you wanted to hear, is it?"

He let out a sad laugh. "That's what I just told Ziva."

Abby looked surprised. "You called her?"

He shook his head. "She called me. She said she wishes she'd brought me instead."

Abby let out a breath. "Wow. I guess Tony isn't quite the ladies man I thought he was."

McGee didn't respond to her comment, just wandered over to his writing desk, sitting and resuming the stance he held before Abby had gotten there. "I never thought I'd feel so helpless, Abby. I told her I'd send good thoughts her way. And as cowardly as it sounds, that's all I can do right now. I hate it."

Abby kneeled down in front of him. "I know you do. But you can't let Ziva know that. If she sees that you can't handle it . . ."

"Abby, this is Ziva," McGee interrupted her. "She doesn't need someone to be strong so she doesn't fall apart. If anything, she needs to see how much I care about her."

Abby shifted, resting her weight on one arm. "And how much is that?" she asked softly, though she pretty much knew the answer already.

He shook his head, looking at the floor between them. "I want her to be happy, Abby. If that means her being with Tony . . ."

"What?" Abby's shocked question made McGee look up. "You can't just give up and assume she wants to be with Tony! Why would you think that, anyway? She told you she wanted you there with her. That has to mean something." She leaned in close to him. "All you have to do now is be there for her. And I know you, Timmy. You couldn't not be there if you tried."

McGee smiled, and just then, Jethro came bounding out of McGee's bedroom, sniffing Abby impatiently.

Abby giggled as he nudged her cheek with his wet nose. "Hiya, Jethro!" she said. He gave her a final sniff before plopping down on the floor, his head resting between his paws. Abby gave McGee a look. "What, you manage to turn the dog against me?"

McGee smirked. "No, Abby. I think he just misses Ziva." Abby gave him a surprised look, petting Jethro's head. "We, uh, the three of us," he started to blush, "used to go for walks together, on the weekends and sometimes after work."

Abby had an amazed look on her face. "Oh, Timmy, that is so cute!" Instead of hugging him, though, she gave Jethro a squeeze, which brought the dog back to life, wagging his tail and panting happily. Abby gave McGee a wide smile.

He smiled back. "Thanks for coming over, Abby. You always seem to know when I need someone."

Abby softened her smile a little, but her eyes still held a twinkle. "Anytime, Tim. Now, you need something to keep you in a good mood." She bit her lip. "Would you mind if I went on a walk with you and Jethro? If that's completely a you and Ziva thing, I understand, though."

McGee grinned. "No, I think Ziva would want us all to go for a walk. And I think Jethro would have no objections to that, either."

Abby laughed. "Good. I'd hate to be shot down by Mr. Gibbs here." McGee gave her an incredulous look. "Okay, so I forgot to mention I gave him a full name . . ."

McGee shook his head. Abby was crazy, but she was a good friend and an important part of his life. There was no way he'd ever give up their friendship. Just like he wouldn't give up on Ziva. Once she got back, he wasn't wasting any time in letting her know just how much she meant to him.

He stood up from his desk. "Come on, Abbs. The world is waiting. Or Silver Spring is, at least."

Abby grinned as he grabbed Jethro's leash from a post by the door and hooked it to his collar, leading them out the door . . .

Meanwhile, Tony and Ziva walked out of an office within Mossad's Headquarters. Ziva had just discovered that she was to inherit her father's possessions, which was a bit of a surprise to her. They'd never had the best relationship in the world. Regardless, she was now in possession of quite a lot of money. She really could care less about the money, however.

After all, McGee had enough for the both of them.

She closed her eyes and forced the thought from her head. She was supposed to be here for her father's funeral, yet she was spending all her time thinking about what she would say to McGee when she got back.

They. When they got back. She was still with Tony. And she was questioning her decision in bringing him here more and more. How was he going to feel when they got back home and she practically ran to McGee's apartment? It would look like she didn't care about him at all, which wasn't true.

She had simply realized that she would rather be with McGee.

She looked over at Tony as they got into their rental car and prepared to drive to her father's estate. He had a completely unreadable expression on his face, which probably meant he had figured out her feelings and was hurt, but didn't want to say anything because they were here for completely different reasons than exploring Ziva's love life.

But then again, Ziva couldn't get the subject off her mind, either, so they may as well at least get it out of the way.

Ziva let out a sigh. "Fine," she said.

Tony gave her a confused look. "Excuse me?"

She rolled her neck. "You seem to have figured me out. We may as well talk about it."

Tony let out a small chuckle. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ziva . . ."

She slammed on the brakes as they reached an intersection, nearly causing Tony to fly out the windshield. "My feelings, as you put it. You seem to know what they are."

"I know what they aren't," Tony said quietly, looking out the window at the cityscape of Tel Aviv.

Ziva frowned to herself. "It was not my intention to hurt you, Tony," Ziva replied, just as quietly.

Tony nodded. "I know. Just like I never meant to hurt you." Ziva gave him a shocked look, surprised to hear him admit such a thing. As she gawked, Tony grabbed the wheel and gave it a yank, preventing them from drifting into oncoming traffic. Ziva turned her attention back to driving, as Tony continued. "I never wanted you to get hurt, and that's why I said the things I did. I knew the two of us together would be a disaster waiting to happen." He laughed sadly. "And you wonder why my relationships don't last very long."

Ziva was quiet for a moment as she turned down a side street. When she did speak, she said, "I do not know if it makes you feel any better, but this was a fairly recent decision."

Tony snorted. "I would hope so. You told me this morning you didn't know what you wanted." She didn't say anything, so he pressed on. "Or was that a lie to make me feel better?"

Ziva shook her head. "No, of course not . . . I," she shrugged, "I thought I had figured everything out, but I wanted to make sure."

Tony nodded, numb. "And I confirmed it."

Ziva sighed. "I'm sorry, Tony . . ."

Tony shook his head, still staring blankly out the window. "No, no, don't be. I clearly have issues with honesty. It doesn't surprise me that you'd rather be with someone who tells you know he feels." His tone was becoming less hurt and more angry. "I'm assuming McGee's at least told you that much. Or you've told him the same thing." Ziva didn't respond, so Tony nodded again. "Okay, so it's just me. Great."

Ziva pulled the car to a stop in front of her father's house and Tony automatically got out, not even waiting for her to turn off the car. Ziva let out a sigh and turned off the ignition, stepping out of the car and gazing at the house she'd grown up in. It was time to put Tony and McGee aside and remember her father.

She took the set of keys the Director had given her from her pocket, walking to the front door. It was somewhat disconcerting to think of how she didn't even know which key was the correct one for her childhood home, but she pushed that thought away. She had grown up in Israel, but her life and the people she loved were in America.

McGee entered her mind again and she held back the tears that pricked at the backs of her eyes. She wasn't this emotional – ever. But suddenly, she found herself on the verge of crying almost constantly. It was as though she was releasing all those years of held-in emotions, all the times her father told her to be strong and not let your opponents see your weaknesses. He was gone, so she could finally cry.

For Tali, her little sister who died far too young and innocent at the hands of terrorists. For Ari, who died by her own hand, as she attempted to keep evil from overtaking good. For Roy, the man she had found too late to love, but did so, anyway, letting her heart make the decisions for once.

And for him, her father, the man who'd raised her by himself, who had taught her how to survive, who had kept her alive. The man she had fought with, who'd been too busy for her dance recitals, who had not even cried so much as one tear when she'd told him America was her home now, she wouldn't come back if she could help it.

Ziva wandered throughout the house, caressing the expensive furniture her father loved so much, letting the memories of the home invade her senses as she climbed the stairs to where her bedroom used to be. As she pushed the door open, tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

It was exactly the way she had left it.

The sight was overwhelming, and the tears blurred her vision as she looked around at the reminders of her childhood: a tiny pink tutu hanging in front of the closet, hair ribbons scattered across the dresser, the huge four-poster bed where, as a teenager, she'd snuck boys – and even the occasional girl – over to have sex, all the while whispering to keep from being discovered by her father.

She moved across the wood floor, smiling a smile that was both reminiscent and bittersweet. It was wonderful to be able to remember her childhood this way, but she wasn't sure if her father had left things intentionally or just didn't have time to have the room remodeled and her belongings removed.

She shook her head free of the thought. It did not matter. Her father was gone and she could live her life to her choosing now.

As she passed the window, she happened to see Tony outside, pacing back and forth, waiting for her. Her heart dropped as her thoughts returned to their earlier conversation and the emotions it had produced.

Ziva sat on her bed, clutching the now yellow pillow to her chest. She let out a sigh.

Would things ever be the same?