I will forgive myself.

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It's already six o'clock, but it is becoming increasingly clear that the team's night is just getting started. Gibbs stomped off to MTAC ten minutes ago and has yet to return. Tony sits behind McGee's desk while his partner goes through security footage from the nightclub where their dead Marine was last seen alive. He isn't exactly giving the task his undivided attention; he's tired, and the coffee cup in his hand is much more enticing than the fat bouncer checking identification.

"There he is," McGee says suddenly, leaning toward the screen. Tony doesn't move except to squint his eyes. "He's with a girl. His brother said he didn't have a girlfriend."

"Can you get a shot of her face?"

"Should be able to, if she turns around."

"Tony," Bishop calls, "do you have a paperclip?"

"Yeah," he says without looking up. "In my desk, somewhere."

The Marine and his mystery woman move through the line without ever looking at the camera. Once they disappear into the club, Tony and McGee groan.

"There's footage of the bar on the inside, too," McGee says. "I'll look at that next."

Tony flashes him a thumbs up before tilting his head back and raising his coffee to his lips. He has just taken a huge gulp when Bishop says, "Hey, I didn't know you were Jewish."

He sputters and nearly chokes. Glancing to his left, he finds that she is bent over his top drawer. In two long strides he is next to her. He barely gets a glimpse of Ziva's Star of David necklace before he slams the drawer shut. "Did you get a paperclip?" he growls.

Bishop is staring at him, wide-eyed. "Um… yeah," she says, and scurries back to her desk. A thick, tense silence falls over the three of them. Tony fights to regain his composure. He wants to explain himself, but the words will not come.

"Sorry," he manages eventually.

Bishop just narrows her eyes. He can't blame her.

Then something like understanding passes over her face, and her mouth forms an o. "Ziva," she says. Tony is caught off guard- but, in hindsight, they probably have mentioned Ziva in front of her replacement at some point. Her departure is still a touchy subject with Gibbs, though, so she doesn't come up all that often in the squad room. He hadn't realized that Bishop paid close enough attention to know who she was. "I thought that was a weird name. It's Hebrew, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's Hebrew, and yes, I have her necklace. Can we leave it at that?" Tony sits down heavily, grabs the nearest file, and leans over it.

But now McGee is interested, too. "You didn't tell me she gave you that."

"Surprise, Tim." Exasperated, Tony reopens his drawer and takes out the necklace, letting the chain dangle off of his index finger. "It's right here."

The three of them are quiet again- until Bishop, with her ever-lacking knowledge of when to shut up, forks her fingers together and says, "So you and her were-"

"It's complicated." He can't take this anymore. Too many questions, too few answers. He certainly doesn't have them. His relationship with Ziva remains undefined; he has no idea when she'll be home; even if he wanted to, he couldn't tell his teammates anything. Shoving away from his desk, he says, "I'm gonna go see if Gibbs needs help."

But he stops after just a few steps. Turns around, looks at each of them before settling his gaze on Bishop. "I'm sorry," he says again, more emphatically. "Really. I didn't mean to snap."

She smiles slightly at him. "You shouldn't apologize. I hear it's a sign of weakness."

Don't be like me, Gibbs once told him. And he won't. He won't take out his worry and uncertainty on those around him; he won't become bitter; he won't let his troubles take over his life, weigh him down, suffocate him.

Tony gives Bishop a shrug. "Not when it's necessary."

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Ziva was lying on her back while he pressed up against her, arm slung across her bare waist, lazily kissing her shoulder. Rounds two and three exhausted them; they had barely moved in the past ten minutes. Despite being regarded as a sex maniac by most who knew him, he was in no hurry to get started again now. He would be happy to hold her like this forever.

Moving his lips to a spot behind her ear, Tony allowed his hand to drift further south. "You're beautiful," he murmured. He gently stroked across the flower tattooed on her inner thigh. Earlier, with ragged breath, she had told him that she got it on a dare when she was seventeen. "Ziva." He moved back up, caressed the curve of her side- not trying to seduce her. Just convince her. "Ziva. Ziva. Ziva."

"What is it, Tony?" she asked huskily.

"I like saying your name."

Ziva laughed low in her throat and threaded her fingers through his hair, dragging his face back up to hers. He lost himself in her kiss; he was floating, he was falling.

She was the only one who could catch him.

"Come home," he tried again once he pulled away. Her jaw immediately tightened. Tony cupped her chin. "It can be like this all the time, Ziva. You and me."

She shook her head.

"Look me in the eye," he said, "and tell me this doesn't feel right. If you can do that, I'll leave it alone."

Ziva sighed softly and reached up to caress his cheeks, much like she did earlier in the orange grove. The gaze she fixed him with was adoring, loving. Stupidly, he began to hope.

"You know I cannot say that," she whispered.

"Then why-"

"I need some time for myself. I need to do the things on my list." She gave him another kiss, this one short and chaste. "The woman you're in bed with, Tony- she is broken."

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but they had been partners for eight years and, unfortunately, he had experienced the full extent of her stubbornness. Ziva had decided she needed fixing. She was hell bent on doing this self-discovery thing on her own. And so she would.

"Promise you'll come back to me when you're ready," he said, toying with the wild curls splayed out across her pillow. "I'll wait for you."

"It is not fair for me to ask-"

"You didn't ask. I offered."

Once again, Ziva's expression softened. "Okay," she conceded quietly.

Tony leaned down. "Okay."

"Okay," she sighed, the word disappearing into his kiss along with the rest of her breath.

0000000000

Ziva's tour of Europe ends in Ireland- one of the places she wanted to visit as a young girl- and she returns to Israel in the middle of December. In the past couple of months, she has experienced more culture, tried more new food, and seen more sights than most people get to in a lifetime. She must admit that she feels happier and just generally better. In fact, on the plane ride, she seriously considers calling Tony as soon as she lands and telling him that he needs to buy a bigger bed within the next forty-eight hours.

But by the time she arrives in Tel Aviv, Ziva has decided against that. She misses him and the rest of her former teammates terribly and she does not need- or want- to be away from them for much longer. However, there is one more thing she needs to do before she goes home.

She stays in her family's old apartment, reading books and making challah, falafels, the entire cuisine of her childhood. It feels a bit lonely, and she does shed a few tears for her parents and siblings. But it is not as bad as it could be; she could be hopeless, depressed, and she is not. It is nice to have some time to relax indoors after all her tromping across Europe. Besides, her mind is mostly occupied; she must formulate plans, finalize travel arrangements. And she is growing increasingly more excited about her next step.

Around ten o'clock on December 24, she settles down in front of her laptop and sends Tony a video chat request. It takes a couple minutes before he responds; when he does, she is happy to see that he's in his apartment and not at work.

"Hey," he says, sitting down on the couch. The screen shakes as he moves his computer closer to himself. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom."

"It's okay."

"You look good," he says.

Ziva takes in his clean-shaven face, his sweatpants and t-shirt, his affectionate smile. "As do you."

"Were there parades in the streets of Israel when you made your grand return?"

Ziva laughs with him. "But of course."

"Yeah, I bet. I'm gonna have one when you come back to me, too."

She bites her lip and changes the subject. "Tomorrow is Christmas, yes? What are you doing?"

"Going to Leyla's with the boss man, as usual."

"Tell her and Amira I said hello."

Tony nods. "I will. In all seriousness, ninja, how've you been?"

"Very well." Her stomach flips over with anticipation and anxiety, and she takes a deep breath. "I actually called because… I need to, um… discuss something with you."

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, but he waits for her to go on.

"I have gone to Europe," Ziva begins, "and I have enjoyed myself. And now I believe that it is time to… atone for my sins."

"Ziva-" he starts to protest, but she cuts him off.

"In two weeks, I am going to Kenya with a group that restores existing orphanages in underdeveloped countries," she informs him. "It is a three month project. I am going to… there will be no violence involved, Tony. I have killed bad people to save good people, and that was necessary, yes, but this… I am going to help shelter and feed children who have nothing else, and no blood will have to be shed. This is giving. Just giving, no taking of life. I have never been apart of something like this before. And I… I have to say, I am excited."

He studies her intently as he listens to her rambling explanation. Once she has finished and is waiting nervously for his reaction, he says, "Ziva, if you're excited, so am I."

She smiles, feeling warmth expand in her chest. "Yes?"

"Yeah." Tony cocks his head and furrows his brow, a sure sign that he is concerned. "Do you know… are you gonna be okay with going there?"

"Yes," she says again- a statement this time, rather than a question. But her voice is still wrought with uncertainty. Kenya is a little closer to Somalia than she really cares for. To be honest, she almost backed out of the whole trip because of it. The purpose of all this is for her to move on with her life, though. To stop the past from ruining her future.

So she signed up.

And she is going.

"I am okay with it, Tony," she assures him. "It will be safe, and… and I will be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. But you should know I may not be able to contact you very often. Please do not worry about me."

"I'll try, but you have a long and storied history of worrying me, Miss David." Tony smiles, so she knows that she is forgiven for all the panic she has caused him over the years. "So this trip ends in, what… April?"

"April the tenth."

"And then where are you going?"

This is the part she's been waiting for. She leans toward the computer screen, wanting to clearly see his face when she tells him. "I will return here to tie up loose ends. Visit Aunt Nettie and Shmiel, pay my respects to my family members who have passed, make sure all of my father's affairs are taken care of. And then… then, I am coming to D.C."

And there- his eyes light up, he beams widely, and Ziva does the same. "Wait, really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, Tony," she laughs. "In the spring, I will be home."

"For good."

"For good."

And she is not even worried about keeping her promise, because she knows she could never do anything to erase the excitement from this man's face.