A/N: This story is a definite WIP for me. I hope everyone is in character given their point at this time in the show- will deviate here and there but use big moments as anchors. Enjoy and thank you for the reviews.

The final box dropped from her arms onto the few others sitting beside her door, ready for the movers to pick them up. They were bound for a cargo plane that would ship them and her Mini to Tel Aviv. She ran her hand over the top of the box, staring at the writing on the top. 'Pictures.' She sighed, closing her eyes briefly and then stepping away from them. She did not travel with many things. Objects were only materials. There were about six boxes with items she could not part with each time she switched duty stations. Otherwise she was done, she thought, lowering herself slowly onto the armrest of her couch, looking around.

It was so sterile, so empty. She tried to make it a home. The cooking equipment she afforded herself were in some of the boxes. She loved to cook, to have people enjoy it, and despite the difficulty at getting many of them to open up to her, she managed to create friendships here. She would miss them. She looked up at the door, a slight knock breaking into her thoughts, and forcing her to her feet. She reached behind her for the gun in the small of her back, not expecting visitors. One check in the peephole and she was confused, frowning.

What was he doing here, she wondered, reaching for the knob and pulling the door back, staring at her visitor. "You should not have come," she said softly. She glanced down the street, expecting to find the Mossad surveillance team she knew had been camped out there. Or the FBI maybe.

"Well you know, since when do I ever listen to you?" he asked, smirking as he turned around on the stoop, waving out to the street. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, as she, mortified, tried to grab him inside. "Hello people watching us! Just a friend! Saying goodbye! Nothing to see here!"

She cursed in Hebrew, grabbing him around the arm and yanking him into the apartment, slamming the door behind her. She smacked at his head, scowling. "You idiot! Do you know how stupid you look?" She leaned back against the door, still upset to see him there. It would make it infinitely harder to leave as annoying as he had been to her the past year. She narrowed her eyes at his surprised look, following his gaze to her boxes. She cleared her throat. "Yes, I am leaving."

"What?" he asked. The confidence he carried with him into the apartment dissipated, his shoulders slumping. He shook his head, laughing. "No, no Gibbs wouldn't…"

"It was not Gibbs." To her surprise and relief, Gibbs had argued to Jenny for her reinstatement as the Mossad liaison officer. He said the FBI had cleared her of any wrongdoing, coming back from his retirement in Mexico to help them do it. She respected and thanked him for his assistance, the only help she had thought to ask for when she was being framed. Gibbs had become somewhat of a father figure to her in the past year with NCIS. She learned a lot from him, more than she had from her own father, even when she wasn't a full-time member of his team, only coming in when assignments called for more fieldwork than Kate Todd was qualified for during her recovery process.

It was all gone now, the great Eli David, Director of Mossad, demanding that NCIS terminate her liaison position and bring her back to Israel. No amount of arguing with him had endeared him to her position and Jenny had apologized, saying her hands were tied. If Mossad did not condone the liaison position, she had no choice. She did not want to upset an ally. Kate would also be returned to full field status after her final doctor's appointment, her arm almost fully functional now. "Your father," he answered.

"My father," she murmured. She sank onto the edge of her couch again, her hands folding in her lap. The photos Mossad had of them were rather incriminating for them both, even if they showed nothing. She lifted her head, smiling briefly. "I thought there was a Welcome Back party for Agent Todd."

"I'll stop by," he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging. "So what's going on Ziva? You didn't bother to call me for help?"

"I told you, I could not involve you in this. You were team lead."

"I thought we were friends, or was I mistaken?" he demanded, his words biting.

They had become what she would consider friends, yes. She found him juvenile, vain, and incessantly annoying. There was, however, a kindred connection. The vague references to his childhood gave her the impression he had as difficult a relationship with his father as she may have with hers. Although she could not imagine anyone being as terrible a father as Eli David had been. The juvenile attitude and the vanity…she suspected it was a front. She saw through it and laughed it off, even if now and then she wanted to strangle him.

More often than not, she thought, she wanted to strangle him. It was against all her better instincts and years of controlled training not to do it. She turned and faced him, her voice soft. "Yes, I like to believe we are friends." They spent most evenings with each other over the summer, which had gotten her into trouble with Mossad. She had not answered their inquiries. They believed they were sleeping together, but it had been innocent. They had dinner together. He was still getting used to being the team leader and she knew he needed a friend. She liked to cook and he liked to show her movies, which he claimed would help her improve her English and which she let him believe.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were getting sent back home?"

Tel Aviv was home for her and she was not going there for very long. She was probably going to Amman. It was a difficult, sometimes deadly, assignment and she knew her father was sending her there for a reason. It was punishment, in his head, for getting too close to the Americans. Closer than he had originally intended she be. She was identifying with them more than her countrymen. She was no longer in regular contact with Mossad. For a brief time she believed she was in fact an NCIS agent investigating crimes rather than a trained spy and assassin. She welcomed the break and did not find the idea of returning to Israel and Mossad appealing at the moment. She would do what was asked of her though. She always did, especially with her father as the direction-giver.

She shook her head slightly. "I did not…did not wish to have a prolonged goodbye." It would be easier if she just left. Cut the ties completely clean. She looked at her folded hands. "I said goodbye to everyone earlier." Abby had cried, even if she still did not really like her and was angry at her for replacing Kate for the last year. McGee had also been upset. He said he would miss her cooking and her smiles in the office. Smiles. She had never heard that from anyone. It warmed her heart.

The goodbye with him, she did not want to have at all. She worried what it would look like for him and her for her if someone saw. Now they surely had, with him coming here. "A prolonged goodbye?" He laughed, pointing to himself. "Do you think I would burst into tears or something? Hold onto your ankle and never let you leave some like little kid?"

"Well not really, but you would make a scene."

"A scene!?" he yelped shrilly.

She arched her eyebrow. "Yes, a scene, like you are right now." She smiled quickly. "You missed working with Kate, admit it. I know she was there, working at the desk and everything, but she is your partner. I am a placeholder and I am going back to where I should be."

"You were not a placeholder," he said. He reached for her and she immediately turned from him. His hand fell to his side and he shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Stop beating yourself up."

"I put you all in compromising positions. I need to leave before that happens again."

He groaned, falling back onto the overstuffed chair she enjoyed readin gin. She would miss it. "Come on Ziva! Knock off the martyr crap! We're all adults, we all knew what we were doing, and we were helping you! You are part of our team! Who cares if you were just taking Kate's place in the field? She understood she couldn't be out there."

And she had been very angry about it. Ziva had borne the brunt of a lot of the other woman's frustration at not being able to get to the field quickly. Not only had it been her agency's former officer who shot her, and then NCIS had welcomed her into the fold. She understood it. Abby had put up a good front with not letting her get too close, but she was still Abby and had ultimately welcomed her into the group. Kate did not want her taking over her partner either, something Ziva knew she was slightly jealous about, even if she was too big of a woman to let it show. "Remember the undercover marriage operation?" she demanded. She laughed at his glazed over look. "Of course you do, you don't remember how upset she was that she couldn't be there."

He laughed. "Trust me, Kate would not have wanted to pretend to be married with me for an op."

"Oh really? I was in the way."

"Oh really? She would have lost it at the thought of us making out and pretending to have sex in the name of finding the bad guy," he said, getting up off the chair and walking over to her. He looked down at her, his voice soft. "I told you when we first met, Kate is and always will be a bit of a prude."

"And now you have to become politically correct again."

"I guess I do," he said. He smiled softly and reached for her hand, but she pulled it from him. He shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Well. Guess that settles that then."

"Settles what?"

"No Casablanca, we'll always have Paris moment for us."

She actually understood that reference. "We'll always have Washington, D.C.," she said. She lifted her head and met his eyes, a clear dark green looking straight into hers. He was a good agent. A good man. Someone deserved him, if he would ever let them get close. If he'd ever commit. She was not that person and could never be. "You should go, before either one of us gets in trouble again."

He nodded and ran his tongue over his teeth, sighing. "Well then…" He reached for her quickly, before she had a chance to move away and tugged her against his chest, his lips hovering over hers. "Till next time."

The charge between them had been there from the beginning, but she did not act upon it because he had been a target, a part of the investigation into her brother that she had to stop. She thought about it, when she believed she would simply be going home, but after everything with Ari and her father and…and she had to get out of there. She came back as the liaison officer, she respected Gibbs's rules and knew there was one about dating coworkers, and besides, it would have been awkward. She merely thought they would be good together sexually, but otherwise he bothered her with his entire…everything. She thought of it again after the whole "undercover" thing. The second their lips touched she'd felt her body betray her and fold against him. There was more than just a connection there.

And if there were a connection, they would meet again. Kizmet. She smirked, brushing her nose to his. "Until next time," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. They were no longer coworkers. It would not be…against the rules in that regard. He could get in trouble for fraternizing with a foreign operative though. She was not a liaison anymore. Just a Mossad Officer.

"Bet you're glad to be rid of me, going back to Mossad." He made a face, but smiled. "All serious Israeli men."

She chuckled, reminded of a quote. A lot of the time she was reminded of quotes from one of her favorite books when she was around him. "Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies."

He squinted, smiling again, whispering, awed. "Did you just quote a movie?"

"I quoted a book, that was turned into a movie," she said, smiling again. She sighed and reached up to give him a quick hug. "Farewell Tony DiNozzo."

"Farewell Ziva David," he said. He pulled back and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She returned it and then felt his lips brush hers as they pulled away and then she brushed hers back to his, before she knew it, she was grabbing him by the back of his head, yanking him against her in a kiss that shot electricity through straight to her toes. Somewhere in the kiss his hands pushed through her hair and the minute she felt him making their way over her back she pushed at his shoulders, tearing herself away. He took a few deep breaths and she watched as he consciously stepped away from her. "Wow, okay, fine…I should go."

"Yes," she said, shaking her hand through her hair. She swallowed hard and then smiled again. He grinned back at her. "Well…until we meet again I guess. As you said."

He nodded. He turned towards the door and smirked at her one last time. "You know, I was right, your life would have had more meaning if you slept with me."

"I am sure I will come to regret it," she shot back. She tossed her head back, waving at him as he opened the door. "Goodbye. Tell Kate I said good luck with you. Now that you've had me, you will never want to go back."

His eyes darkened and he smiled. "I'll miss you too." He cocked his head and opened the door. "So what do you say in Israel when you say goodbye?"

"Shalom."

"That's what you say for hello."

"And also goodbye, because it does not mean goodbye," she whispered. She waited for his questioning at what it did mean and he stood for a moment in the doorway, patiently waiting on her. "It means peace."

He nodded and then smiled again. "Shalom Ziva." He stepped outside and closed the door behind him with a deafening click in the silent apartment.

She sat on the armrest and thought about it. Peace. It would be nice to have that. She twisted her hands together and stood, gathering up her backpack, laptop bag, and one single carryon rolling suitcase, flicking off the lights in her apartment and stepping outside. Haidar was already on her doorstop, waiting to escort her. "I see you had one last goodbye with Special Agent DiNozzo," he drawled, as she closed up her apartment. "Seemed quick."

She ignored him and walked down to the car, throwing her things into the backseat before climbing up front. "Just drive," she ordered, turning to look away.

"No more goodbyes?"

No, she thought, that was the last one. Gibbs would not say goodbye to her and she did not want to stop at his house. She leaned against the window and watched as the streets of D.C. blurred by her on their way to the airport. Maybe they would see each other again. They did have a bit of a connection. One she hoped would last.