It's been almost a year since I last saw and enjoyed a new NCIS episode. I never thought this would be possible but honestly, I'm starting to fall out of love with this show. I will still continue writing this story though. It's just that... I'm simply not enjoying it that much anymore.

They arrived to his doorstep in a couple of hours. Luckily, he managed to clean his place yesterday. It would be tremendously embarrassing otherwise.

Once settled in, the first task he did was to order food. He called the Chinese place a few blocks away. For some reason, the prospect of food did not make him all that excited.

Weird.

He really must not be that hungry because the food arrived way before he even considered whining for the delivery guy's usual lateness. And he was pretty late. They were already halfway through their tea (and movie) by the time the food arrived. Tony paid the dude without saying a word, earning a raised eyebrow from his partner.

"Let's dig in." Tony murmured, blatantly ignoring Ziva's questioning stare. In fact, he was avoiding her gaze altogether. He seemed preoccupied over something. She just could not pinpoint what.

So they ate. Sort of.

After minutes of sitting in silence, Tony finally decided to look at her. However, before a comprehensible word could leave his mouth, he cowered, returning his gaze to his almost untouched dinner. The couch where they have been sitting on suddenly became uncomfortable and foreign—which is weird because after all, it is his couch.

Attention caught, Ziva cocked her head, gazing at her partner expectantly and with mild amusement. Tony barely touching his food—and not looking at her—something is very, very wrong.

"Actually…" He began with an awkward shrug. "I'm not sure how to say this."

She fiddled with her chopsticks absentmindedly, eyes still intent on his. Her features were calm, odd for someone who is about to go after a ruthless man with an axe to grind in about twelve hours time. "Then perhaps it is better if you just say it."

He tensed, and by the way her eyebrows arched curiously, he is certain she didn't miss it. The act he just committed is a betrayal, but he cannot just let her go on with a suicide mission. Not this time. He could not risk it.

But that look of complete and utter trust in her eyes …it is eating him alive.

For some reason she felt this conversation will not go well. The look he's giving her for one is certainly making her nervous. Food forgotten, her pulse began to race slightly. "Tony?"

It took a moment before he could find his voice again. He swallowed nervously, slid closer to where she sat, and took a deep breath. "Before you say anything, please know that I'm only doing what I feel is right."

With those words, a thousand scenarios ran through her mind, not one of it she remotely liked. She is in a very bad place right now and the last thing she needed was something that would take away what little control of the situation she has. With her thoughts going a little more than a mile a minute, coughing up any sort of response became next to impossible.

He leaned in and touched her cheek with his palm, caressing her cheekbone with pad of his thumb. "I had to do this. I didn't have a choice." He clung onto the thought that he is only doing this to save her, nothing else. He has no time to ponder over the guilt of what he just did entail. "I am so… so very sorry."

She pushed his hand away with more force than she wanted. Everything is going great. The plan is set. She is leaving tomorrow. No one else will know.

"What did you do?" The beginnings of anger laced her words, but the look she saw on his face, so forlorn and tired, made her question if he really deserved it.

"I'm sorry." He repeated as he dug something from his coat pocket, tossing it gently onto her lap. He didn't want to go with Adam's plan anymore, but Gibbs gave a pretty convincing argument about it. "I cannot let you do this. I really tried to see things your way and I…" He faltered, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just sorry."

She placed her food carton on his table, picked the object he handed her, and squinted at its label. It was a pill bottle from her medicine cabinet back home. Confusion filled her eyes as she stared back at him questioningly. She is sleeping just fine as of late. Well, relatively fine. She does not need it now. "How did you get this? And why are you giving it to me?"

"Unless you read me in—completely—to your plan… to whatever you are about to do, I cannot risk you leaving like this." He explained vaguely, focusing his eyes intently at her. "I know you promised not to do anything stupid, and I believe you. I do."

"Then why are you—" She broke off. Her brows furrowed as he avoided her questioning eyes. She followed his gaze, and where it landed may her insides churn. He was looking at her empty tea cup with a tight jaw. It was only then when it finally dawned on her.

"You drugged me?" She asked, incredulous.

"You may not want to hear this, especially from me but, this is not you, Ziva. You will not be doing this to us if you are." He reasoned, trying to sound as calm as he could. It only made her fury rise. "You are not going anywhere. Gibbs will be handling it."

"You drugged me." She repeated in utter disbelief. "You—"

"Whatever you are about to do, I know that it is more dangerous than what you've told me." He still was actively refusing to look at her for fear that she'd see how vulnerable he had become. How vulnerable she'd made him. Hot tears were threatening to fall from his eyes as he continued, his voice cracking. "… and I swear to god, I'd die first before I let anything happen to you."

"What the—who the hell do you think you are?" She stood up abruptly and flung the bottle to his chest. The move made her cringe slightly as a burning pain exploded in her thigh, but she was too furious to care. How stupid was she to believe that he's just going to let this thing go?

"You're not just a partner, Ziva." Tony told her gently, trying to find the right words without giving so much away, and without making her angrier. He reached for her, but she flinched. "And as I have told you so many times before, I am here to protect you."

"Stop pretending like this is about me!" The fists on her then crossed arms clenching tightly on the crook of her elbows as if they're trying to rein in her anger. "If this is your ego talking, you got to stop it right now."

"My ego?" Tony scrunched his eyebrows, hurt visible in his features. "You are going on a suicide mission, wounded, and you still think that this is about my fucking ego?"

"You keep treating me like a fragile little object, a weakling who cannot fend off her own monsters, a damsel in constant distress… of course this is about your ego!"

"You know me, Ziva." He responded in gritted teeth. She knew him too well; she knew what buttons to press to rile him up. And he would not let her. "I never treated you like that."

"Then what do you call what you are doing to me right now?" She challenged him. "Because all I can see now is this chauvinistic, egocentric bastard who chose to lie to me rather than to trust me."

An almost unbreakable silence spread across the room. Tony's ears were ringing; her words stung. It is not that he didn't trust her. It is the situation that he doesn't trust. He could not bring himself to risk it.

He could not risk her.

"Well maybe you're right." He spread his arms out in mock surrender, stood up, and paced across his living room. He was tight-lipped for a while before he was able to speak again. "I am a chauvinist, I'm so full of myself and I can't help it. But you know what? I'm fine with that. At least between the two of us, I am more willing to keep you alive!"

Silence.

Although it was clear she was taken aback by his words, she stood her ground. She could not believe he did this to her. "You seriously believe that I am committing suicide?"

He firmly shook his head, took another step closer, but not close enough to touch her. "Not directly, no. Do tell, though, in all honesty, what are your chances of getting out of this alive? You're injured. You just got shot in the thigh with a high powered rifle a few hours ago, for fucking Pete's sake! You are not thinking this through!"

"I do not care!"

Her remark made Tony falter in his steps, eyes suddenly drawn to her face. The honesty in her voice drove all the air out of his lungs; it almost choked him. He already had an inkling as to what runs inside his head right now, but having her confirm it made him want to punch something.

"He took someone from me, Tony." She suddenly sounded small as she said it. "Calvin Anderson, the arms dealer I told you about, he was the one who supplied Hamas with the bombs that killed my sister. That loss I felt when Tali died… I cannot let other people go through that. Not if I can help it."

A point he can't argue. Great, just great. "Well, too bad for you, my little suicidal partner, but there's no way in hell I'm going to let him take someone from me, too." He gritted out, clenching his jaw. "Especially not you."

Her eyes widened momentarily. The intensity of his gaze almost unhinged her firm resolve. Almost. "That is not for you to decide." She muttered.

Tony scowled. She's not getting it. "Who am I going to leave it to, huh? To you? My god, Ziva, he got the former head of Metsada assassinated right under your father's nose. What makes you think that he's just gonna let you storm into his place and stand idly by as you shoot him in the head?"

Ziva sighed, her shoulders feeling a ton heavier when a certain realization hit her. He knew about Mazar. She never told him about that. "All this time, you have been working with Adam, have you?"

"It doesn't matter." He replied. "What matters is I know, and that I could help."

"There is nothing you could do!" She insisted, gritting her teeth in frustration. "I have to deal with this on my own. I cannot afford any further complications."

Tony scoffed. "So from deadweight, I am down to being just a complication now?"

Things were starting to get clearer to her. The events in the past hours, hell in the past days, have the name Adam written all over them. She should've seen this coming. "You are helping the person who shot me in the thigh! What do you think?"

A harsh breath got caught up in Tony's throat. Of course she'd figure that one right away. "I did not know he'd shoot you!"

"Damn you!" She growled as she slowly collapsed back into the couch in frustration. She buried her face in her hands. A mixture of despair and disbelief filled her mind as Tony's betrayal sank deeply into her skin, and through her heart. The pain it brought even tripled in intensity as the realization of her losing her window of opportunity to get the person who threatens to kill a lot of people, not to mention her only living relative in the world.

"Ziva." He lowered his voice as he sat gently next to her. He suddenly felt drained. "Gibbs wants you to back off for a reason. You are an American now. Leave this thing to Mossad."

"Did Gibbs put you up to this too? How can—" She trailed off, then blinked, suddenly out of focus. She shrugged it off and hastily rose from her seat once more. Her vision clouded a little as she moved. "I cannot believe you would do something like this." She muttered with a groan as her hands blindly grasped the arm of his couch for stability.

"Woah there." He was beside her in an instant, poised to grab her if she falls over.

A nasty expletive left her mouth as the wobbling on her knees made her stumble slightly forward. She felt so light-headed and dizzy, and she feared that if she dared closing her eyes, she will go straight to passing out.

He caught her in time, but she pushed his arms away the moment she regained her footing. Ziva took a deep breath to clear her slowly fogging vision, and gestured him to stay back. He sighed, but remained put. "You need to lie down." He told her.

"No, I do not!" She snapped, shoving him away. He did not budge. "Leave me alone!"

"Ziva, please." He caught her by the shoulders, clutching them tightly. It took all of his self-control not to shake her until she sees reason.

"He is going to hurt a lot of people, people that I love." She swallowed back the bitter taste forming in her mouth. "Do you even have the slightest clue how that feels?"

He purses his lip. "Yes, Ziva, you may not believe it, but I do." He stared at her straight in the eye, silently hoping it will be enough to show her things that his mouth do not have the guts to say.

She glared at him. "You think this is the time for that? I cannot believe you."

"This is not you, Ziva."

"No, Tony, this is exactly who I am." She swatted his hands off her shoulders irately before setting her jaw and limping towards the door. She shook her head to will away the dizziness that was starting to spread inside her brain like wildfire. "A few years in this country could not change that."

That did it. Tony strode across the room in two steps, blocking her path completely. "No, Ziva. You are staying here." He leaned in to grab her hand, but she was faster.

TWACKKK

The sheer force of her hand was enough to make his head turn almost ninety degrees. Somehow, he'd rather have her punch him instead. And damn. It was painful. His cheek was stinging, and it felt like it had been scrubbed raw. But he wasn't sure if it was indeed the physical part of the slap that hurts. He'd like to think it was, but judging the way his heart was clenching agonizingly inside his chest, he's fairly sure it wasn't.

Ziva was just as equally shocked as he was when she realized what she did. Eyes wide, she gazed at her own hand as if it did not belong there. She did not even notice as a solitary tear fell from her eye.

Still cradling his throbbing face, Tony offered his partner a rueful half-smile. "I probably deserved that."

"Why?" She mumbled under her breath.

"Well, what can I say? I am a crappy partner." He chuckled half-heartedly. "And an even crappier friend."

"Damn it, Tony. I trusted you!"

Her words stung, but he suck it up, shutting his eyes. This is for her own good, he reminded himself. "I screwed our friendship over to save your life. Newsflash, Ziva! I don't give a flying fuck friendship. Not if it is used as a counterweight against your life. I'd much rather have you angry than dead!"

Ziva turned away from him, walking towards the door again. "I can take care of him without sacrificing myself."

"And then what, huh?" He gritted his teeth as he tried to reason with her, blocking her path. "A vicious cycle of violence is not the right way to deal with this. We can stop the attack. You don't have to go to them."

She was about to sidestep him when she staggered slightly. She bit her lip and groaned as another bolt of pain rose from her thigh. She blindly grabbed for anything to hold her up: the back of the couch, the DVD shelf, the side table, the lamp… hell, anything that is not him. She then continued her seemingly eternal journey towards the door. Every move felt like stepping on partially melted butter, her legs burrowing into it up to her neck.

He stood back and watched her. There was a part of him that hated seeing her this way, but she left him with no other choice. When Ziva makes up her mind about something, there's no changing it. Ilan was a prime example of that.

He regarded her with watchful eyes, careful not to touch her for fear of retaliation. One slap was good enough, thank you very much.

Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? Tony thought. If there's anyone who can make him forget his deep sense of self-preservation, it's Ziva. "Are you seriously trying to leave here on that state?" He asked.

Before she could formulate a response, she again wobbled forward. The next thing she knew, his hands were grabbing her by her arms, steadying her. She would've landed face first on his marble floor otherwise.

She tried to fight him off, but her core strength was dwindling. Fast. She was too dizzy to remain upright on her own. The ground was moving underneath her, and she was starting to lose feeling on her legs.

He was behind her all of a sudden, his grip on her waist was too tight, and the weight of his encircling arms was too heavy against her own. "I… ah."

In her last attempt to escape, she slammed her head against his chest, hard. But she was too preoccupied at the moment to consider whether he felt it or not. Perhaps he did not. Because god knows she did not.

He clutched her tighter, whispering comforting words to her ear.

"Ssshhh, ssshhh." Her weight grew heavier against his chest as he tried to manoeuvre his way back to the couch. Her eyes were drifting shut. "Don't worry, Ziva. I got you. Just rest, okay?"

She seized his arm weakly in a futile attempt to get away. "No, please." She murmured. "I have to—"

"It's okay." He muttered to her ear reassuringly. "I got you."

A wave of darkness came over her, overriding her thoughts. She opened her mouth to let out another curse, but no sound came out. She groaned instead.

The last thing she felt was being lifted off her feet as her entire body finally gave out.

Thoughts?