A/N: Last chapter guys and you read at your own risk, because it's as not pretty here as it was on the show. Gonna try something different with my Summer 2009 piece. Instead of making it the 7x0 chapter (since it ended up at 17.5 thousand words and I thought that might be a bit too much to take in at one sitting), I'm going to turn it into a story all on its own. So sometime Thursday afternoon, look for Moments In Time - When the World Stopped Turning. Probably six chapters, some short and some longer, and completely from Tony's viewpoint. We'll get into Ziva's head a little more when Good Cop, Bad Cop comes around. I will post all the chapters the same day, not to worry. Now hurry up and get this chapter over with, you won't be alone if your heart's hurting at the end. ~Aliyah

Hours later Tony was finally released from the doctor's care, with his arm in a sling and orders of desk duty for six weeks. He stood in the hallway of the hospital feeling lost, drained and exhausted after a night of no sleep following the fight for his life. Tony looked right, then left, and saw Ziva leaning against the wall beyond a set of doors. With his tie in one hand, he approached the window and slowly observed the fatigue in her posture. There was blood on the cuff of her jacket sleeve from Michael grabbing her arm, and dark smears on her jeans where she wiped her hands after the paramedics took him away. Ziva's eyes were closed, her expression empty, and the way her lips moved made him wonder if she was praying.

As he watched, a doctor came out to talk to Ziva. The hope in her face died quickly, but before he could make a move to go to her Tony heard soft steps behind him and knew who it was, so he spoke without taking his eyes off her. "I'm okay. Got a fractured radius and a few bruises. I had new intel, I went to talk to Ziva...question Ziva." He rubbed his face, still unable to believe it had come to this. "He set her up Boss, I know he did. Ziva wouldn't-"

Gibbs sighed. "DiNozzo."

Tony turned around, the intensity in his eyes surprising. "When I got there and tried to bring him in, Rivkin attacked me. I had no choice."

The team leader tried again. "DiNozzo."

"It was justified," the younger man insisted.

Gibbs stared at him. "Go write it up. There's gonna be a lot of people wanting answers, including your partner." He moved past his senior field agent to see Ziva, and as the door swung closed Tony heard her first words to their boss.

"Michael is dead. Tony killed him."

He closed his eyes, absorbing one more blow because there was no other choice. Ziva blamed him for Michael's death. She hadn't even heard his side of the story and already she'd decided what to believe. Tony swallowed painfully and pushed away the tears that couldn't come. If that was what she thought then he'd already lost her, the love they'd fought so hard for shattered in the rubble of too many things gone wrong. That realization hurt even worse than his injuries, and for the first time Tony had no idea how to get her back.

Standing in front of a clearly emotional Mossad Liaison officer, Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You saw?"

She looked away. "I saw enough." Pictures from last night flashed in her head. Tony pointing his gun at her. Michael's painful gasps. Blood all over her carpet. The photo of her siblings on the floor.

He reached for her shoulder, but she shifted just enough to get the message across the she was not to be touched right now. Gibbs wondered if Ziva was so brittle that any contact would break her. "You have to tell me everything."

The mask she'd worked so hard to put aside over the last three years returned thicker and more impassive than ever. "You will have my IA report on your desk before lunch." She headed towards the door and Gibbs turned around.

"Hey." Ziva looked back. "I'm sorry for your loss." Rivkin didn't mean anything to him, but clearly the man had meant something to her. There was no response at all before she walked out and Gibbs let out a breath, wishing for the bourbon in his basement. His team was fracturing in every corner and he feared that work ties alone might not be enough to draw them back this time. He didn't want to lose them again.

NCIS

While Gibbs and McGee got into their NCIS gear at Ziva's apartment, Gibbs overlooked McGee's awkward attempts at conversation and got straight to the point. "So McGee - Rivkin. Tony. Ziva. What do you know?"

McGee tried for the easy way out. "Nothing." Gibbs just stared at him and the junior agent gave in. "I saw Tony snooping around Ziva's desk." The team leader looked away. That was nothing new. Tim continued nervously, wondering if he was betraying his friends. "It was right before she went back to Israel. He-he answered the phone. I think he talked to Rivkin." Gibbs waited to see what else would come up as McGee put his jacket on, muttering, "I can't believe I'm telling you this, Tony's going to kill me."

Gibbs' logic was far more blunt. "Not if Mossad gets to him first."

Tim's brow furrowed. "You don't think the director's just going to hand him over." The older man declined to answer and McGee followed him across the street. "Boss, Rivkin tried to kill him."

"Tony's word against a dead guy's." He was clearly not in a reassuring mood.

"Yeah, but Ziva will back him, right? I mean, Tony doesn't just murder people, you know? Obviously the shooting was self defense. All we've gotta do is-"

McGee didn't get a chance to finish because an explosion rocked the building as they got to the stairs and pieces of wood, mortar and brick rained down on them. Reflexively they ducked and covered, hearing frightened screams from nearby people, then stood back to survey the damage which, coincidentally, seemed centered around one apartment in particular.

The fire department arrived within minutes and once the area was declared safe, Gibbs and McGee picked their way through what had been Ziva's livingroom and kitchen, starting off with crime scene photos and working around the men in yellow coats. Tim stared into the kitchen and Gibbs glanced his way. "Problem McGee?"

"You mean apart from Tony killing Ziva's friend and Ziva's apartment blowing up? No, no problem at all."

"Good, then shoot."

Following orders, McGee snapped a close up of what used to be the sink and stove. Gibbs saw an empty picture frame laying on the carpet and something about it bothered him. Then Tim found a laptop that had been under a drawer when the fire started. "Strange place to keep a laptop," he remarked, while Gibbs shone the flashlight around.

"Not if you're hiding it." He took a closer look. "Three cuts in the gas line."

McGee had moved to the livingroom. "Fire chief said it must've been leaking for at least an hour."

"But no one smelled gas."

"Which is odd considering most of the neighbours were home," Tim pointed out.

"These are clean," Gibbs observed. "Looks like a pro job."

McGee saw something he didn't recognize and took a picture. "Boss." He sniffed it. "Could be the trigger."

"Bag it," Gibbs ordered, going back to the picture frame. He picked it up and stared at it, then dropped it on the floor. Something wasn't adding up.

NCIS

Ziva opened the door and slowly stepped into the house she'd not been in for over a week. Evidence that Tony had reverted to bachelor mode lay in the dirty dishes in the sink, clothes left here and there, and the takeout containers on the coffee table. What surprised her was the pillow and rumpled blanket on the couch. Curious, she peeked into their room. The covers were pulled up straight and neat, as if he hadn't slept there since the first night she didn't come home.

Swallowing back her reaction to the gesture because she was so tired and hurt and angry and deeply sad about everything that had happened there wasn't room for tenderness and love, Ziva stripped out of her clothes and dropped them on the floor. She looked at the stained sleeve of her jacket and wished they had a fireplace so she could burn the offending article and the memories that went along with it. A shower was the first order of business and she made it very hot, as if the water could somehow wash away all the events of the past several days. Under the stream of water that stung her skin and turned it pink, Ziva covered her face with her hands and allowed herself to cry, to grieve for Michael. She was alone in the world now, all siblings and those close enough to be called family dead and soon to be buried. It was such an isolating feeling, as if she was cut off from the rest of humanity with no more ties to bind her to home and family.

When she got out, scrubbed almost raw in an attempt to remove the sensation of Michael's blood from her skin, Ziva dressed in black and pulled her wet, heavy hair back into a tight ponytail. She used dark make up around her eyes and looked in the mirror, not sure if she even recognized herself any more. A quiet drive to NCIS left her with too much time to think and Ziva walked into a darkened Autopsy to do one last thing for her friend.

Unzipping the black body bag, she stared at him, looking far too much like he was asleep to be dead. But when she placed her hand over his to recite a prayer, the coldness of his skin confirmed the truth. Ducky and Jimmy's arrival interrupted the moment and she pulled the flap back over Michael's face, closing the bag gently before turning towards them. Ducky's expression was sympathetic. "Would you like a moment?"

Ziva shook her head and swallowed. "Not necessary."

He hung up his hat and coat. "Since you are here, perhaps you can shed some light on Officer Rivkin's beliefs. I've already contacted a Rabbi friend of mine and asked him to be present when I perform the autopsy."

She clasped her hands behind her back. "Also not necessary. Michael was Jewish by birth, not practice."

Ducky stepped closer, using a gentle tone of voice. "Traditions can be a comfort. They show respect for the dead and bring a sense of reassurance to those who are left behind."

Ziva squared her shoulders and the mask slid into place. "Rituals only work for those who believe they make a difference." With a last glace at the body bag, she walked out.

NCIS

Gibbs was sitting at his desk looking over Tony's IA report when Ziva entered the bullpen and handed him hers. He stood. "Ziva."

She didn't look at him as she gathered her things. "I know what you are going to say Gibbs."

"No, I don't think you do." He pulled a chair from one of the cubicles over to his desk. Ziva sighed, dropped her bag and coat, and sat down while McGee took his cue from Gibbs and made himself scarce.

She began before he could speak. "I know you think I lied to you about Michael, but I did not. You asked if I knew him, if he worked for Mossad, not if he was here. Not-"

Gibbs cut her off. "Your apartment's been destroyed." Ziva blinked, absorbing the news like a soldier and showing no emotion. "Gas fire, earlier this morning."

Somehow that seemed a fitting end to what was fast becoming the week nightmares were made of. She spoke from long habit, deflection and re-direction, anything to keep them from getting too close, even if they already had. "Perhaps the line was damaged during the fight. You should talk to Tony, he-"

"No, this was no accident. The line was cut. Any idea who-"

Her reaction was immediate and a lie. "No." Mossad was always quick to take care of things, for all she knew this was a punishment for failing Michael, to take away anything she had left.

Gibbs lifted an eyebrow. "That was a quick answer."

She shrugged. "Simple question."

He continued quieter. "Ziva, that's your home."

With tears in her eyes, Ziva stood. "No, it is not." She got up and walked away, thinking of everything the others did not know. Up until Michael came her home had been with Tony, but today walking into the house they used to share she felt like a stranger. Maybe this was a sign, that she would never belong anywhere. Maybe she had no home anymore, and maybe she deserved that for letting go so easily. Some habits were hard to break, others, it seemed, were far too easy, and for the first time in a long time, Ziva did not know what happened next.

NCIS

Up in the conference room Tony sat facing the director, waiting for judgement. Leon looked at him and dropped a sheaf of papers on the table. "This is a thorough report, you only left out a few things. Like why you broke protocol and went alone, and why you didn't inform me."

Tony fixed his gaze on his hands. "My gut told me it was Rivkin, not Ziva. But if she knew something I wanted to give her the chance to explain it to me."

Leon sat back and chewed on his toothpick, going straight to the heart of the matter. "You wanted to protect her."

He shrugged one shoulder. "If she needed it."

"Putting that aside Agent DiNozzo," Vance continued, "I'm curious how you got out of there alive."

Tony sort of smiled and pulled on the jokester front that had served him so well in the past. "Well, I've always been a pretty decent fighter, you know, scrappy."

Leon's eyebrows rose. "You're telling me you offed a Mossad assassin by being scrappy?"

He sighed. "What do you want from me Director?"

"Honesty and details," Vance answered immediately.

"That's what I'm trying to do here," Tony pointed out. "I wrote the truth in my report. And maybe Rivkin should've won, but he didn't. He's dead and I don't have a good reason why I'm the one who survived. I guess I just got to my gun faster."

Gibbs walked in with the tox screen from Ducky and handed it to Leon. The Director frowned. "What's this?"

"A reason. Blood alcohol level of 0.16. Rivkin was wasted."

Tony didn't believe it. "Not possible. He may have had a couple of drinks, but it sure didn't show when he was trying to beat the crap out of me. There's no way he was drunk."

"0.16," Gibbs repeated.

"Twice the legal limit to drive," Vance added, showing Tony the paper.

"Huh. Guess I should've called him a cab," he said dismissively.

Leon's tone hardened. "You went off grid. You killed an officer of Mossad. And now the crime scene has been blown to bits. People are going to have questions and you better have some pretty good answers Agent DiNozzo."

Tony glanced at Gibbs who barely nodded, then looked back at the director. "Understood." Without another word he got up and left.

Vance watched the door close. "Think your boy can handle what's coming?"

A heaviness settled inside Gibbs that didn't show on the outside. "He'll manage." Not that he'd have much of a choice.

"Good," Leon nodded, "because he's going to have to step up and take one for the team."

Gibbs crossed his arms. "What's the goal?"

"Diplomacy." His phone ran and a name flashed on the screen - Eli.

NCIS

Down in the lab Abby and McGee were trying to update the two bosses on what little they knew. The charred piece of something was puzzling Abby and she shrugged, looking at Director Vance. "Do you have any ideas?

"I do," came Ziva's voice from the doorway. They all turned to stare at her and she folded her hands together. "I know I was told not to involve myself in the investigation."

"Yet here you are," Vance pointed out rather unnecessarily.

She ventured inside. "Since it is my apartment I thought I should at least take a look at the crime scene photographs.

Gibbs headed towards her. "Nope, not gonna happen." Vance seconded the decision.

Ziva drew a breath. "Perhaps I should have made myself more clear - I have already scanned through the photos. McGee left them running on his computer." Leon gave McGee a dirty look but she didn't notice. "That being said, I feel obliged to tell you what I have found."

"Talk," the director ordered.

"That is an activated charcoal filter which has been doused in ethanethiol. We plant them on cut gas lines to mask the smell. That way, a fire can be triggered without warning."

"We?" Gibbs asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Ziva looked away. "It is a technique used by many agencies, including Mossad."

Silence filled the room quicker than smoke until Vance broke it. "Pack your bags." Everyone's expression reflected some level of surprise and concern. Vance lifted his chin at the team leader. "You and DiNozzo too. I've been asked a favour that I've just decided to grant. We're on the first flight to Tel Aviv tomorrow."

From the doorway where he'd arrived just in time to hear, Tony saw his wife turn to Gibbs. If his experience in reading her eyes was to be trusted, Ziva was not looking forward to going home. Stillness reigned supreme until Vance left and Abby began of flood of worried words about their destination and what happened last time and who put that man in charge anyway? Gibbs left McGee to calm her after a customary kiss on the cheek and spoke quietly to the partners as he passed, who were now just staring at each other. "Get your things together. Meet back here in the morning."

Ever so slowly Tony turned to the side and held out his hand, motioning for Ziva to go first. They waited for the elevator and got in, not saying a word. After picking up everything from their desks, they took separate cars home, arriving within seconds of each other because Tony tailed his wife the whole way, unwilling to let her out of his sight. Once inside the house, Tony dropped his bag. "Are you just going to keep pretending like I don't exist?"

She crossed her arms and gritted her teeth. "Yes."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well that's more than you've said to me all day." Tony swallowed. "Please, can't we just...talk about this?"

Ziva steadfastly refused to look at him. "I have nothing to say."

Tony frowned. "Nothing? Three years and that's it, you have nothing to say?"

"What do you want from me Tony?" she spat, standing tense and rigid near the couch.

"Uh, answers? Emotion maybe? I'd like to talk to my wife, if she's still in there somewhere."

Ziva grabbed her bag and stalked towards the office. "Maybe she is not." The door slammed hard enough to rattle picture frames on the wall. Tony stared at it and wanted to cry. So this is what it looked like to break.

Managing everything one handed was a bit challenging, but Tony managed to cook pasta and heat sauce without too much trouble. Gathering his courage, he walked over to the office door and knocked. "Zi? Supper's ready if you want some."

"Not hungry," came the faint answer and his shoulders sagged. All he wanted was to talk to her, to be close to her. Why was that too much to ask?

He swallowed. "I'll just, uh, leave it on the stove in case you change your mind."

There was no response so Tony gave up and took his own bowl into the almost empty spare room. He sank down onto the futon and pressed play on the movie in his laptop. But neither the film - though a classic -, or the food - which was picked at but not really eaten -, held his attention for long. Finally Tony returned to the kitchen, put everything away, and decided to go take a walk around the backyard. Sliding doors in the office opened onto a small deck and their nice sized lawn, but since Ziva had taken over that space he had to go around the house.

He got to the corner and caught a glimpse of something in the fading twilight, pulling back immediately. Peeking around the edge of the house, Tony saw Ziva sitting on the deck, feet on the first step, staring out into the night. That she didn't instantly notice his presence and turn her head told him how much she had on her mind. Feeling a bit like a stalker, but also as if he'd been deprived of the sight of her for too long, Tony stayed where he was, waiting and watching.

For the longest time Ziva didn't move, then a single, silver tear streaked down her face. She buried her head in her arms and he saw her shoulders shake. So there was something left of her inside that cold, brittle shell somewhere, but aside from the tears she'd never show him in this frame of mind, he had no idea how to get through to her. After a long time she finally stood up and went back inside, and Tony walked along the fence line until he could see into the office through the doors. Ziva lay in semi-darkness, curled up on the floor, her head resting on a pillow from the corner chair, with a blanket draped over her.

The light clicked off and Tony sighed, going back inside and locking them in for the night. He lay on his back in their too empty bed and wished with all his heart that Ziva was beside him instead of two rooms away. An hour of not falling asleep passed and Tony grew restless. Getting up, he walked softly to the office and tapped on the door. "Ziva? Look, I know you're not asleep, just...can you come out so we can talk?"

He tried the knob, not surprised to find it locked, and didn't have the guts or the ability to pick it right now. Sighing, Tony rested his forehead on the door. "I miss you honey, I miss you so much. Please, open the door." Only empty silence met his query and Tony splayed his fingers against the wood. "Please?" But there was nothing and he walked away defeated, unable to think of what else he could do or how many times he could beg for her attention. Tony clenched his jaw. If that was the way she wanted it, then maybe that was how it should stay.

On the other side of the door Ziva curled her fingers into the blanket and bit her lip, anything to keep herself from giving in, getting up, and going out where she might just fall against her husband and let him be the strength she was lacking. But the betrayal and the sneaking around, along with the doubts Michael had planted and the loss of her friend combined to keep her where she lay. Tony's final 'please' tore at what was left of her heart before Ziva shut him out completely. She didn't want to talk, she didn't want to be taken care of, she just wanted everything to go away, to make the voices in her head be quiet, to smother the guilt that was threatening to engulf her. But there was a tiny piece of her that wondered exactly how much she would lose if she got her wish.

NCIS

The following morning Tony and Ziva worked around each other to shower and pack for the trip. Neither ate breakfast and though it would've made sense to carpool, two separate vehicles took the drive to the Navy Yard. Carrying one bag apiece, they rode the elevator to their floor and waited at their desks for Gibbs to deliver his order, enduring Abby's goodbyes and McGee's nervous looks with no emotion whatsoever. Shortly after lunch the group boarded a military transport and settled in for a half-day flight to the other side of the world.

Both Tony and Ziva took the time to read over each other's IA reports, though neither knew that as the papers were concealed inside magazines, with a coffin strapped to the floor between them. Director Vance brought a thick novel and Gibbs somehow managed to sleep for most of the time, when he wasn't eating trail mix or beef jerky and sipping tepid bottles of water. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pilot gave the announcement to prepare for landing.

It was mid-morning in Israel and the bright sun made all but the native Israeli squint at its light. They stepped off the ramp and watched as Michael's casket was brought out and Israel's flag unfolded gravely overtop. Hadar spoke solemnly in Hebrew and then the ceremony was over. He greeted Leon first, noting that Eli was anxious to speak with him. Then he came to Ziva. "Officer David, it has been far too long." He kissed her cheeks and Tony felt the barest hint of relief that her icy demeanor was not reserved solely for him. "Thank you for coming."

Ziva barely glanced at him. "There is no need to thank me. My visit has nothing to do with you." Tony listened to the animosity in her tone and was puzzled by it. What had the guy done to her to cause that reception? He didn't think she'd ever mentioned someone named Hadar.

Hadar chuckled. "Ziva, always full of fire." At his question she made introductions and he looked at Tony. "Agent DiNozzo, please, ride with me." A glance at Gibbs and Vance, who nodded, didn't give him much of a choice. "Please, I insist. It will allow us a chance to get to know one another."

Gibbs watched Tony walk towards one of the black SUVs. "I am going to see him again, right Leon?"

Ziva picked up her bag. "Officer Hadar will not harm him. Only two people have the authority to do that."

Vance followed her. "Your father's one. Second?"

She reached the car. "Me." Without a word the man in the front seat left and let her claim driving privileges while the others got in. Gibbs settled uneasily behind her, knowing he'd never seen Ziva like this before.

Once they arrived at Mossad Headquarters, Ziva left her team and went up to her father's office. She knocked and walked in, waiting to be acknowledged. When Eli looked up, he was surprised at who he found. "Ziva." He stood and walked over to kiss her cheeks, scrutinizing her appearance. "When did you start wearing so much make up?"

"Nice to see you too." It was the attitude that got him.

"With traffic I wasn't expecting you for another hour."

She crossed her arms. "I drove."

Eli chuckled. "Enough said." He gestured to the couch. "Sit." Wordlessly she refused the offer so he made it again. "Sit." When Ziva only looked at him coldly, Eli gave up and leaned back on his desk. "So tell me, how are you?"

"I have been better."

He nodded. "Michael was a good man, loyal."

Ziva's expression darkened. "Loyal to whom?"

Eli crossed his arms. "To all of us."

She looked away. "I am not certain that is true."

He studied her. "You're angry."

Ziva hesitated. "I am confused."

Eli nodded. "That is why I asked you here."

Her eyebrows drew together. "To find answers?"

He shook his head. "No my dear, to find solace. Leave finding the answers to me."

NCIS

It was quite awhile later when Eli entered the room where an American agent sat awaiting his trial. "Agent DiNozzo, my sincere apologies for your wait."

Tony relaxed in his chair. "It's okay. I dig hanging out in concrete bunkers, especially after twelve hour plane rides in cramped quarters."

He was not impressed. "Your sarcasm is noted."

The agent sat up straighter, groaning a bit at the pain in his arm. "Just so you understand, this is what I do for a living. I interrogate people every day, so I know all the tricks of the trade. Nothing you do is going to intimidate me."

Eli's eyebrows rose. "Interrogate? This is an assembly room." Tony glanced around. "You have yet to see our interrogation room, but if you continue to be childish, I promise that you will."

In a separate room Gibbs and Vance sat with their eyes glued to the monitor. Ziva walked in and stood near the door with her arms crossed. Eli placed a folder on the table. "What you need to understand Agent DiNozzo, is that I am very aware of who you are." He tapped the folder. "Your achievements and misjudgements."

Tony held up his hand. "Okay, stop right there. If this is about my Twitter page, I just want to clarify. It was late, I'd had a couple drinks and what can I say? Sometimes I get a little chatty."

The older man's patience was wearing thin. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're the Director of Mossad, and Ziva's father. Though I'm not sure which one is asking the questions."

Eli took a seat on the table. "Sometimes it is hard to separate the two. And it appears that you have difficulty separating your emotions from your work as well. You believed that Officer Rivkin was guilty."

Tony clenched his jaw. "He killed an American agent."

The man was entirely non-plussed. "An accident. Unlike his death, which was intentional." He got up and walked closer. "What was behind it? Retribution for an agent you did not know?" Eli shook his head. "No. You knew Officer Rivkin would be at Ziva's apartment. You went there to confront him, provoke him. And again the lines became blurred between your professional duty and personal desires. You wanted Michael out of my daughter's life and you killed him. Isn't that the truth Agent DiNozzo?" Gibbs had a feeling he knew what was coming and began to watch Ziva watch Tony.

Tony adjusted his position. "It's like I told you Director, I went to Officer David's apartment and found Officer Rivkin there. He attacked me. It was kill or be killed. Self-defense."

Eli was not convinced and laid his hands heavily on Tony's shoulders, squeezing. Tony winced but made no sound. "If that is true my friend, you would be dead."

"You wouldn't mind that, would you?" He stared straight at the camera, prepping for his final attack. "Do you send all your rogue agents to DC? Try to make it our mess? They kill people randomly and you're not responsible?" Gritting his teeth against the pain, Tony continued. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering you did the same thing with Ari and he was your son. What kind of business are you running here, huh? People just go around doing whatever the heck they want?"

Fed up, Eli grabbed Tony's neck. "They do as I say."

He stared at the man who, unfortunately, was Ziva's flesh and blood. "Rivkin?"

"Always," Eli answered firmly.

Tony returned his eyes to the camera, praying that Ziva had been there to hear his confession, and the truth. Eli, realizing he'd been played, walked out. In the other room, Ziva did the same.

NCIS

On a mission, Ziva took the stairs to the outside rooftop and searched for her target. Once she found him, she followed the man down a flight of stairs and around the corner where he was putting out his cigarette. In one quick movement she put him in a choke hold. "Talk," she growled in his ear.

Hadar grabbed her arm. "Ziva, what is this?"

"I said talk!" she demanded, not letting up.

He wheezed. "You called me, remember?"

Ziva tightened her grip. "To remove Michael from harm!"

He was bent backwards, struggling to breathe. "Harm from whom?"

"Himself," she hissed.

Hadar coughed. "Circumstances had changed."

"And this was your answer?"

His voice was strained. "I protect Mossad."

Ziva ground her teeth. "There was nothing to protect!" She pushed him away. "I should have known not to trust you."

Hadar rubbed his neck. "As if it was my decision?"

She jabbed a finger at him. "You have my father's ear!"

"Rivkin was in chaos. You knew and yet you decided not to tell your father. You tried to protect Michael and now you are the reason he is dead." She lashed out and he blocked a few of her moves. "Rivkin killed that American agent. You knew that and still you did not report him."

Her eyes flashed. "I called and told you to remove him!"

"It was too late!" Hadar argued. "By then we could not get him out of the country. All we could do was clean up after him, and you." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gibbs at the top of the stairs and lowered his voice, handing her a folded photo from his back pocket. "There is no one left to blame. Stop looking."

He walked away and she looked at the picture, then turned to face her boss. "Hadar set the fire."

Gibbs looked at her. "Covering for Rivkin?"

"Cleaning up a mess," she corrected dullly. "I was betrayed. By Mossad, by my father, by Tony. Who is next, you?" Without waiting for an answer, Ziva walked away, leaving Gibbs with almost all of the puzzle pieces put together.

NCIS

Slowly she climbed the stairs back to the roof and looked over the deserted courtyard before preparing to head inside. She had never felt so empty, like everything inside her was dead. There was nothing left now. She put her hand on the door and in the glass saw a reflection of Tony. Ziva turned around, her dark gaze boring into him. Tony looked equally solemn. "I had no choice."

"That is a lie!"

He stared at her. "Why would I lie to you Ziva?"

Her eyes narrowed. "To protect yourself!"

Tony started walking towards her, and as if they were attached by an invisible rope, Ziva moved closer to him as well. "Protect myself from who? Vance? Mossad?"

She crossed her arms. "You jeopardized your entire career, and for what?"

His expression softened. "For you. What did you think?" She just looked at him. "Michael set you up Zi, I had to do something."

Fire flashed in her gaze. "And for some reason you thought it was your job to protect me?"

Tony was so sick of her indifferent attitude. "It is my job! Both as your partner and your husband. Or have you forgotten that too?"

"You shot him!" Ziva accused.

His jaw clenched. "I did what I had to do to stay alive, but maybe if I hadn't then you'd be having this conversation with him. Is that how you'd prefer it?"

That got to her and pain flashed through her dark eyes, but was gone just as quickly. "No. But you did not have to kill him!"

Tony shook his head. "Why don't you get this out? You wanna take a punch, take a swing?" He was yelling now, the stress of the last several days taking over. "Go ahead, get it out of your system!" He hated yelling at her, but she couldn't keep everything inside and out of everything in the world that could happen, he just needed her to talk to him again.

They were face to face and Ziva's fingers curled into her palms. "Be careful Tony, you are already injured."

He lifted his chin. "What are you really angry about, huh? Is it because I beat Michael at his own game?"

"He was drunk! You took advantage of him!"

Tony gritted his teeth. "He came after me, what was I supposed to-"

Before he could blink Ziva took him to the ground, hard, and knelt swiftly beside him, one foot by his elbow and holding his wrist, the other knee on his chest and tears shimmering in her brown eyes. "You saw a table, you pushed him back and dropped him on it. He was impaled in the side with a shard of glass. Bloody, gasping for air."

He grunted, feeling the force of the fall in his shoulder and arm. "I guess you read my report."

Her voice was bordering on hysterical. "I memorized it! You could have left it at that, you could have walked away. But no, you let him up!" Ziva's gun was out before he saw her move. "You put four in his chest."

With the gun barrel pressed over his heart, it came as only small comfort to Tony that her fingers weren't even close to the trigger. He forced the words out. "You weren't there."

Ziva was still on a rampage. "You could have put one in his leg." The gun moved to his thigh, still not held in a threatening manner, she was simply making her point with what, at the moment, amounted to a prop.

Tony stared at her. "That's not how it went down, and you can quote my report until the cows come home, but you. weren't. there."

She swallowed and blinked back tears. "But I should have been."

"You loved him." It wasn't a question.

"Of course I loved him! Michael was like my brother, I should not have to lose two."

"An assassin wouldn't've given up Ziva, he was trying to kill me. I had no choice."

"I guess I will never know for sure." Her gun went back in the holster and she stood to walk away.

Tony pushed himself up, wincing, and called her back. "You have to choose to trust me Ziva. I'm telling you the truth about what happened that night. In almost three years I've never lied to you, not once. Please honey, believe me."

She swallowed and shook her head. "I cannot, not now. You questioned my loyalty, you had doubts about me. And I do not know what to think of your side of the story. I am beginning to think we do not know each other at all any more."

Tony closed his eyes. Not this, no. "Ziva, please."

"No," she repeated. "You always say how important it is that I trust you, but it is equally important for you to trust me. And you did not." Ziva wiped at her cheek. "That hurts Tony, it hurts almost more than what Michael did." She continued towards the door, but stopped and looked back before going inside. "I think we need a break. Some...time apart."

His heart was breaking before her eyes, but Ziva couldn't let herself give in. "Don't do this Ziva, please. I love you."

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if for protection from what he would say. "Then let me go." And just like that she was gone and Tony left sitting on the ground as the most important person in his life disappeared from sight.

NCIS

Tony spent a long, lonely night in a room full of bunks and Mossad officers slipping in and out to grab a few hours of sleep, and his bosses just across the floor. Ziva did not join them, but early the next morning she barged into Eli's office. "You sent Michael to see me in DC, why?"

He barely looked up. "That is none of your concern."

She slammed the door shut. "I have made it my concern."

Eli was using his Director tone of voice. "Do not question me Ziva."

"Was any part of his visit real? Was our friendship? I do not know what to think."

He was dismissive. "Does it matter? Michael is gone, you must move on."

There was steel in Ziva's words. "This is no longer about him."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Agent DiNozzo?"

She fought the urge to rub her empty ring finger. "I need to know if he was right."

"He was jealous," her father declared smugly, like he'd somehow already won.

"Even if he was that does not make him wrong. Now answer me!"

Eli shrugged. "I don't know."

Ziva's brow furrowed. "Why was I not told of his mission? Why was I excluded?"

Finally he stood. "Because Ziva, I don't know who you answer to anymore - NCIS or Mossad."

Frustrated, she threw her hands up. "What is it you expect from me?"

"I expect your loyalty to me and only me!" Eli's voice rose. "You want to know Michael's assignment, make this your aliyah. You return to me, to us!" He slammed his hand on the desk. "You finish what Michael started."

Ziva took a step back and blinked rapidly. "Goodbye Papa." Then she walked out the door and went to get her things. If Israel was done with her, then she was done with Israel. It was time to go back to DC and try to figure out where she wanted her home to be. Her choices, it seemed, were beginning to dwindle.

NCIS

At the airport Tony stood at the back of the plane, staring at his wife and dreading the next twelve hours of silence, but more so what was going to happen when they got back. She wanted a break - from him, from their marriage - but with her apartment pretty much demolished now she had nowhere else to go. At least with the insurance money Ziva could get a place temporarily, but Tony sincerely hoped it wouldn't take very long for him to earn her trust back. Nearly three years together and this was the first time it had broken. What he wouldn't give to take back the whole last week, to have never been tested this way so he wouldn't have to fail. But life didn't come with a remote, there was no instant fix button. He could, however, respect her decision and then do whatever was necessary to win her back. Because without Ziva, his life wasn't worth anything at all.

Gibbs saw his senior field agent's eyes fixed on his partner and nodded at him. "Get on the plane." Whatever was going on between the two of them would have to be worked out back in their own country, now was not the right time. Grabbing his bag from the back of the SUV, Gibbs headed towards the plane. Ziva got her things as well and made her way over to him.

"Gibbs."

He turned. "Plane leaves in five minutes Ziva."

She straightened her shoulders. "Not without us it does not." Taking a breath, Ziva met his eyes. "I think it is best if I simply speak from the heart."

Gibbs agreed. "Yeah, usually is."

"It is Tony," she sighed. "I am..still not convinced he was entirely truthful about Michael's shooting."

He lifted and eyebrow. "He gave you his word."

Ziva shook her head. "I am not sure we can work together right now. Perhaps it would be better if one of us is transferred to another team for awhile."

Disbelief coloured his usually impassive expression. "Transferred?"

She swallowed. "I need to be able to trust the people I work with. I know you more than anyone understand that." It was an oblique reference to the trust he bestowed on her after Ari's death.

Gibbs' eyes shifted to find Eli watching them. He looked back at Ziva and glanced over his shoulder, then leaned towards her. Uncertain, Ziva moved, but he kissed her cheek anyway. "Take care of yourself Ziver. You know where to find us."

With that he walked away and got on the plane. Pain sliced through her heart, a final betrayal, and she failed to notice the pleased smile on her father's face. Embarrassed to have had witnesses, Ziva returned to the vehicle after the plane rose into the sky and for once got in the backseat, wondering if she'd really expected this to turn out any other way. Gibbs was nothing if not loyal and he and Tony had a history that far exceeded her own. She'd asked him to break up the team, their little work family, and his answer made it clear that wasn't an option. So now she had to stay, and suddenly everything in life was gray and empty. After today, things would never be the same.

NCIS

Gibbs hopped on the plane, took his seat and gave the signal to take off. Tony looked out the back and saw Ziva standing forlornly on the tarmac. His brow furrowed and fear tinged his voice. "Boss? One short?" No answer was given and Tony leaned his head back, clenching his jaw to keep the emotions in. There would be no going back and working it out, not if this was her decision. It was as good as over between them, and he'd never even gotten the chance to fight back.

Tony spent most of the long flight trying to sleep, so he could block out the world and the truth of what had happened. Fifteen hours after they'd left Israel, he shuffled in the door of their house and looked around. Nothing had changed, everything was just as he left it, and Tony had foolishly thought that his days of being the only one to mess a place up or clean it were over for good. But they weren't, because Ziva wasn't coming home and once again it was just him, alone, the way he'd hoped to never be again.

He dropped his things and went for a drink, but even alcohol held no appeal when all he could think of reaching for the bottle was nights he and Ziva would have a glass of wine and sit on the couch together, her with a book and him watching a movie, happy to just be sharing the same space. Drawn by a force beyond himself, Tony made his way into the office and reached for the forest green photo album on the bottom shelf of one of her bookcases.

Settling in the chair, he opened it to the first page where a smiling couple proudly showed off their brand new shiny wedding rings, and a second that captured their first kiss as husband and wife. Then Tony carried Ziva over the threshold of their new house and into a living area filled with boxes. A month later he woke her up with a kiss and a bouquet of wild flowers to celebrate their first marriage milestone. There were candlelight dinners and dancing, the two of them after a run, sitting in a pile of newly raked leaves, their first snowman, and a picture of them lighting the menorah during Hanukkah while a Christmas tree twinkled in the background.

Page after page was turned as he took in their attempts to chronicle as much of their marriage as possible in pictures. He swallowed hard at one of them in their open, airy Bahama hotel room, on the weekend after Valentine's Day when they took time away just for them. And a moonlight walk in the park on their first anniversary. A photo captured the couple with Aunt Nettie on Skype after one of their first conversations, and the night he returned from Baghdad, then their brief time by the pool in LA before the world came off its axis.

The morning of their first day back together after the worst summer ever, hiking, rockclimbing, at the arcade, hanging out on the couch at home, laying on a blanket in the backyard under a starry sky, moments of kissing and savouring having the other near. He closed the album with a sigh, unable to accept that it was all gone now, everything they'd worked so hard for and protected, everything they'd built together. Tony flipped back through and found a picture of Ziva laughing, slowly tracing her features with one finger.

"I didn't mean it Ziva," he whispered. "I never thought it was you. Please don't hate me."

Eventually the need for a shower became evident, Tony hated smelling like plane and desert, and he slowly moved to the bathroom, but what he saw on the counter stopped him dead in his tracks. Ziva had left her anniversary ring laying there like it didn't mean anything. And it hit Tony like a freight train that maybe she really wasn't coming back. That truth burst a hole in the dam and Tony crumpled to the floor, clutching the small emerald ring and crying like his heart was breaking. This time it really was.

NCIS

The next day Tony sat at his desk, staring across the room at an empty chair. The storm from last night had passed and he was again determined not to go down without a fight. He dialed Ziva's number and hesitated, his thumb hovering over the 'send' key for several seconds. Gibbs stopped beside him and Tony looked up. "Guess she'll call when she's ready, right?" He could only hope it would be that easy. Because without Ziva, life was just an empty shell.