"This country holds itself to a higher standard. It is a nation of laws which are to be followed not only when it is convenient or easy. I have seen firsthand, what happens when convenience wins out." Ziva said as-a-matter-of-factly, as her eyes glazed over and she stared into the air for a moment.

"You never talk about it." Tony's voice broke her out of her reverie.

"What is there to talk about?" She brushed it off so expertly.

"C'mon, Ziva." Tony used a serious yet soft tone with her, eyes looking down with concern.

"What Saleem did was bad enough. Becoming like him, would be worse." Ziva cracked, and they both continued searching for evidence.

Tony let the issue go for now, but he wanted to clear the Somalia elephant in the room sooner or later. She couldn't just keep everything to herself.

"Go home. Get some sleep." Gibbs ordered, dropping down onto his seat at his desk.

McGee had all his stuff and left for the night. He bid everybody a "See you tomorrow." Ziva slowly packed up and was ready to leave in a matter of minutes after McGee had left. "Good night Gibbs." She said as she headed for the elevator.

Tony had purposely delayed his movements just so he could leave at the same time as Ziva, because he planned to have a good talk with her in the elevator.

"Night boss!" Tony said and rushed to catch the same elevator as Ziva.

"Ziva, hold the elevator!" Tony quickened his footsteps.

Ziva didn't seem to have heard him since she didn't wait for him, but Tony managed to stop the elevator by slipping his hand in between the elevator doors.

"Didn't you hear me?" Tony questioned, stepping into the elevator and pressing the 'close' button.

"Yup." Ziva replied nonchalantly.

"Then why didn't you hold the elevator? My hand was this close to being squashed by those heavy metal elevator doors." Tony exaggerated jokingly.

Ziva kept mum, refusing to communicate with him. Tony realised that she wasn't keen on listening to him and thus he dived straight into the issue that nagged at him.

"We need to talk. What you said just now, in the warehouse. What did you mean by all that? You can't just leave me hanging there." Tony said.

"Hanging where?"

"Unm okay never mind scratch that, what I meant wa-"

"What do you want me to scratch?"

Tony gave an exasperated sigh. "Nobody is scratching anyone, god no. No scratching involved at all. It just means tha-wait. Ha! You think I don't see it, but I do. Oh boy, I see what you're doing. You're trying to change the subject!"

"Well it worked, did it not?"

"Okay I'll give you that. But seriously, you have to talk about it sooner or later. It's not good to bottle it all up inside you."

"There is nothing to talk about." She replied, almost using the exact words she told him in the warehouse.

"See that's where I think you're wrong." Tony stated as he flipped the emergency switch, plunging them into darkness.

Ziva's heart skipped a beat, stunning her for a split second before she flipped the emergency switch back. "What are you doing?" She demanded, slightly relieved that the lights came back on.

"Trying to get you to talk to me." Tony said with a tinge of anger in his voice, flipping the emergency switch yet again.

Being in the darkness once more, Ziva's heart rate was increasingly getting erratic. Tony was standing in between her and the emergency switch, and so she shoved him out of her way and flipped the emergency switch back. "Stop that!" She raised her voice slightly.

Tony, having been shoved into the elevator wall, was momentarily dazed. "You need to talk to somebody."

"I will." Ziva replied breathily.

Before Tony could make a comeback, the elevator doors opened having reached its designated floor. Luck seemed to favour Ziva a little bit more today. She hastily made her way to her car, while Tony just stared after her for a while before heading for his car as well. Well that plan backfired, He thought.

Ziva sat in her car, watching Tony drive away. She figured, that she really should talk to somebody. It wouldn't be fair if somebody got hurt thanks to her irrational phobia of the dark. At least, irrational to her. To others who knew that she was kept prisoner for months, it was by no means at all irrational. Ziva prided herself with her hardass personality and asking for help was not her thing. But it had been years since she first stepped into NCIS and asking for help now didn't seem that bad. It would be going against everything she grew up to be, but maybe getting some help would be good, this time. But who would she go to?

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was at his desk. He frequently stayed later than most people, everyone in NCIS knew that. And so when he heard the ding of the elevator, it did baffle him on who it could be. He shifted his gaze to the opening elevator doors, to see Ziva awkwardly making her way back into the bullpen. Gibbs stared at her, expecting for her to say something when she stopped in front of him. She stayed silent, thinking of how to put what she wanted to say across. Gibbs just saw her having an internal battle with herself and tried to initiate the impending conversation. "Ziva?" He questioned.

"I need your umm...help. I have a problem, with the dark. Ever since...you know. Help me?" The words tumbled out of her mouth hesitantly, slightly making no sense at all.

But of course, Gibbs knew what she was trying to say. And he was honoured to say the least that she'd turn to him for help. He remembered the last time she asked for help, which was a few years ago when she was framed for a crime she didn't commit. Now, she had not made any eye contact and had refrained from using words like 'afraid' or 'scared'. Gibbs being Gibbs realised all that and he had expected nothing less from Ziva.

"Does anybody know?" He asked, concerned.

"McGee...you."

"McGee?" Now Gibbs was confused.

TBC

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