"Dana?" Tony called out as the floorboards creaked, echoing against the walls of the silent house.

"I am surprised you did not call me Laura." It was Ziva.

"Cop falls for a missing woman, 1944 Gene Tierney, Dana Andrews." She continued.

"You making a film reference, go figure." Tony said slightly dejected, looking at the piano keys which his fingers trailed over slowly.

"Tony, this is a murder investigation, okay? This is not a movie. Dana Hutton is missing and maybe dead like her brother. She is not just gonna walk in through that door and into your life!" Ziva rushed out in exasperated whispers, hands gesticulating in different directions.

Tony knew she was right. As he saw sense in her words, even the slightest smile slid off his face as it grew somber.

"How did it go?" Gibbs asked as he saw Tony walk into his basement.

"Uh, she went peacefully." Tony replied as he picked up tool and toyed with it.

His brooding expression remained as he stared at the tool his fingers were playing with. "You okay?" He heard Gibbs ask.

"Not really." He replied hoarsely.

He found some wood to sit on and his whole being slumped onto it, as he heard glasses clinking against each other. Gibbs long had his bourbon and shot glasses ready, and all he had to do was make use of them when Tony got here.

"I broke Rule Number 10. Again." He spoke up again, pausing for a while to receive the glass of bourbon Gibbs offered him.

"Never get personally involved in a case." He opened up yet again, staring only forward.

"Yeah. That's the rule I've always had the most trouble with." Gibbs divulged, staring at the swirling liquid held in his hand.

Tony turned to stare at his boss for a few seconds, feeling his agony. The lines on his forehead and around his mouth seemed to etch deeper, emphasising his despondence. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gibbs raise his glass to his lips, gulping all the bourbon in it in one gulp. Gibbs set the glass down, dropping the nails he had previously emptied from it, back in. He then proceeded to work on his wood.

In a way, Gibbs was teaching him something. When something is done, it's done. Brood over it for a while, maybe drink some bourbon. And then get up and move on. Gibbs had always been the father figure for his team, and it was natural that they would try to model themselves after him. Tony hesitantly put the glass to his lips and threw back the burning liquid into his throat. He put the tool down on the floor and shuffled his feet across to Gibbs, placing the glass in front of him. "Thanks Boss." Tony said gratefully and turned on his heel to leave.

It was in his own fashion that Gibbs didn't really acknowledge Tony when he was right beside him. But once Tony started on his way up the basement stairs, Gibbs looked up at the retreating figure of his senior agent. In some ways, they were pretty similar. But he didn't want that for Tony, and so he tried his best to push him in the right direction. Although sometimes a blunt approach would be needed, for Tony could be quite dense at times.

As Tony left Gibbs' place, the uncomfortable tug pulling against his chest had only elevated just that bit. He got into his car and just drove into the night, still caught up on the death of a woman he had barely met. He wanted to talk to someone. Yeah sure, Gibbs did help. But there was only so much that Gibbs could do for him. With the same circling thoughts in his head, Tony kept on driving. In 15 minutes, he found himself parked on the street where Ziva resided at.

He stared at Ziva's windows. As expected, she wasn't asleep although it was already about 2am. He vaguely knew the reasons for such a sleeping pattern, but today he didn't feel like taking a step down that road. He could see flickering lights, and assumed that Ziva was watching television. I don't think she'd be too angry if I go up now right? She isn't sleeping anyway. She might use the company, Tony reasoned with himself as he thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Ah hell, here goes nothing." He muttered under his breath as he finally exited his car. All he wanted at that moment was not to be alone. And the perfect company would be his partner of 4 years. He knew she had his back.

Ziva didn't want to sleep. Sometimes, the stress from her job got to her and triggered some unwanted and unpleasant dreams. In such situations, sleep meant dreams. Dreams probably meant nightmares. Nightmares resulted in anxiety. And anxiety meant no sleep. Thus the whole equation boiled down to where she saw no point in sleeping. Sure, she might be tired out of her mind the next day, but that wasn't what a good amount of caffeine couldn't fix.

The recent case bothered her. Tony was literally obsessed with a woman he had never met, and had been quite upset at her unfortunate demise. She saw no logic in all that. But there were some things in life we couldn't explain, so maybe this was one of those things. Tony's predicament didn't fail to remind Ziva of a similar experience she had a few years ago. Tony and Ziva in fact weren't that different from each other.

Ziva was on her couch, blanket covering her around her shoulders as she held her pillow to her mouth ending right below her nose. She was watching Mission Impossible 3. She had watched the previous ones on another sleepless night, and today she embarked on the action-packed sequel. She was right at the part where Ethan Hunt was crying as he tried to negotiate with the felon not to shoot his wife. Tom Cruise's acting was formidable, for Ziva felt the sting of impending tears before her eyes. As she watched closely as the fate of Ethan Hunt's wife was seemingly almost sealed, a knock on her door practically made her jump off her couch as it tore her attention away from the terrific scene in the movie.

Ziva frowned. Who in the right mind would knock on her door at 2am? She decided to ignore it, hoping the person would be nice enough to take the hint and go away.

"Ziva I know you're in there." It was Tony.

She groaned inwardly. What did he want now?

"C'mon open the door please."

Ziva rose to her feet upon the magic word. She silently made her way to the door, but made no effort to open it.

"I am asleep." She said, not yet willing to open the door.

"No you aren't sleeping. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me right now."

"Maybe I was."

"No you weren't."

Ziva opened the door, hand on her hip. "And how would you know that?"

"My gut."

Ziva gave him a disbelieving look.

"Fine I was on the street looking at your window." Tony admitted with a roll of eyes as he nudged his way into Ziva's house.

"Oh please, come right in." Ziva mumbled sarcastically.

Tony made his way to the couch and dropped down heavily on it. Grabbing the pillow Ziva had left there when she got up to answer the door, he sighed loudly, the sad sound reverberating throughout the walls of her place. He hugged the soft pillow to himself.

"Sure go ahead, feel free to take my pillow too." Ziva muttered with a roll of eyes as she made her way into his view.

This time he took a proper look at her. She had a blanket around her, wearing a T-shirt and slacks which were long enough to drag along the floor. She looked cute.

"What do you want Tony?"

"Can we talk?" Tony said as he buried his chin in the pillow which he held in his embrace.

Well that was straightforward. Ziva plopped down on the far side of the couch and turned towards him, legs up on the couch and crossed. Her elbows dug into her knees, her hands cupping her cheeks and chin as she leaned forward to hear what Tony had to say.

"Well you were right, I was obsessed with Dana."

"I know. It was quite foolish." Ziva was just being truthful, but it came out blunt.

"Well I wouldn't expect you to understand what I felt." Tony mumbled angrily.

"You are talking to the person who fell in love with a dead man walking. I think I understand perfectly." Ziva spat out.

Tony wasn't ready to back down. All the emotions he held in needed an escape route, and his subconscious chose this one. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew provoking Ziva this way was wrong. He knew more than enough about her temper. But he did it anyways, which wasn't the plan. He came to talk. Well that was of no use now.

"Yeah that was pretty stupid of you as well." Tony shot out in tactless haste.

Ziva was pissed. That actually hurt. Some things from that period of time she had preferred to keep bottled up came spewing rapidly out of her mouth as she rose to her feet, ready to intimidate.

"Seriously?" Her tone was bitter with a hint of rage.

"Well, yeah. You sure know how to pick 'em."

TBC

I know I'm a weird person, but I like conflict between characters :O