"Well, let's say you and I haven't spoken in years, and I get my throat slit by a serial killer."

"I would hunt him down and make him regret the day he was born! You're not just another partner, McGee."

And she'd meant it.

It was weird, the way their relationship had come to this. On their first assignment out together, she let him wipe dirt off of her face, all the while sending him the message that she could too-easily kill him. It was weird, how her first assessment of him was so dismissive; he was innocent, an easy target- easily neutralized, if it came to that. And then all those years later there she was vowing to avenge him if, hypothetically, he was murdered.

Funny what a few years can do.

Ziva once read a theory of personal development which claimed that no one really changes as they grow older, they just become more themselves. Their personalities become stronger and more refined. While she could see the argument for this theory in each of her friends and even in herself, it was clear that whoever came up with this theory never worked for the NCIS Major Case Response Team.

She'd changed alright. And thank god for that. Life was no longer about living mission to mission, with only the drive of doing the job to fuel her. She still had that wild, unpredictable streak, that stubborn insistence on doing whatever it took to get the work done. But years of staying in one place and working with the same people calmed her. She was forced to view coworkers as more than fellow drones- they were now her friends…her only friends, if she was honest with herself. They were her family. She had a small, albeit odd little group of people to look after, a permanent residence with all of her personal belongings (a luxury she hadn't experienced since childhood) and a career that didn't have to end in death. Believe it or not, these things were enough to make even the former Mossad agent go soft. (Of course, her version of soft just meant that she no longer treated Tony with death whenever he bugged her.)

She'd worked with a lot of "partners" over the years. Undercover missions, specialty operations…she was always being paired with someone new. Ziva had worked with men -and women- who could kill a person in under a minute. In Mossad, a valuable partner was someone who could take care of themselves, who possessed outstanding skills in combat or reconnaissance or the like. With the exception of Michael Rivkin, she'd never cared if any of her partners were kind, or thoughtful, or even trustworthy. They were there to do a job and if that new partner was competent and stayed out of her way, then she had no problem.

Tony and Gibbs, though complex and ultimately interesting, good-hearted individuals, put on personas while in the field that made their jobs easier. These "types" were commonly found in every military and every agency in the world. Gibbs' strong and silent act, DiNozzo's smart-mouthed, self-assured routine…she knew these well. But McGee was different. Because while she was initially surprised at his skills with a gun, Ziva had written him off because of his kindness. If she trusted him it was because she was sure he posed no threat. Back in 2004, Gibbs barely spoke to her and DiNozzo never stopped messing with her. Tim was the first person to offer a sincere welcome, to make her feel like an actual member of the team. That kind of personality was usually only found in a rookie; it was beaten out of them in time. And yet, Tim never lost that gentleness.

Which brought them to that day when she promised to put his hypothetical killer through hell, even if he was killed long after they lost touch.

He'd been so wrapped up in his worry for Tony that he didn't even notice the spark of rage in her voice at the very idea of his murder. He knew what her answer would be- he only posed the question to prove a point. But did he really know? He had a knack for underestimating himself. Did he realize what it would do to the team if they lost him? What it would do to her?

Almost a decade of knowing McGee made her think that no, he probably didn't. But god, she hoped so. Did it give him comfort, in his last few minutes, to know that surely they would suffer without him- that she'd sworn to avenge him? Because it was a few minutes, they would later learn. Ducky's haunted voice later told them that he'd most likely spent quite some time gasping for breath while the wounds in his chest and his abdomen took their time in ending his life. It wasn't a serial killer, and his throat wasn't slit. However, the multiple bullets that the ME had to extract from his torso in autopsy seemed just as bad, if not worse. It was worse because he struggled. He'd persevered even after the first slug entered his stomach. The killer was shot twice in the shoulder before McGee took his last breath.

After the autopsy, she found herself alone in the morgue, staring down at his too-still, too-pale face, her own features schooled into a placid mask though there was no one else around. Of course he had no clothes on, but the sheet that Ducky placed over his body covered everything but his head, shoulders, and the upper portion of his chest. It was odd how she was reminded of the first time she'd seen him without a shirt. For one reason or another he had to borrow a shirt from Tony, and the two found themselves shirtless in the bullpen. She remarked that it was like the Chippendales. Tim was heavier then…he'd lost so much weight since that day in 2006.

Funny what a few years can do.

It was an odd "first-and-last" memory to come to her. A small chuckle rose from the back of her throat at what McGee would say if she could share the memory with him. At the same time, tears came to her eyes and she sniffed. What an extraordinary team they all were. A team unlike anyone else. She had proof of this- no one, not even her relatives and lovers from Mossad, would have charged into Somalia to extract her from the claws of a terrorist. Well, they hadn't planned on finding her of course, but maybe that just proved it even more. Her mind wandered over the events of that summer, a time and place she almost never allowed herself to visit. Tony had charged into the desert because of the way he felt about her. His desperation at the thought of losing her was too much. But at the time, Tim went along because he cared about her. He sought to avenge her and that was it.

It reminded her of that promise she'd made to him all that time before. That if he was ever killed, she would make his murderer regret the day he was ever born.

Because he was more than just another partner.

The feelings that followed crept into her heart and lodged themselves there, burning like the embers of a fire. It was a rage and a grief she hadn't known since Tali was killed. It was devastating, all-encompassing, and it turned her into a person she hadn't been in a long time. The urge to kill was strong.

They all worked day and night to track down the murderer, of course. They found him in no time. He wasn't exactly hiding, after all. It was the lover of a victim they hadn't been able to save from months before. McGee felt personally responsible for her death, Ziva remembered, even though it had nothing to do with him. Perhaps it was because she resembled his sister? Either way, it wasn't Tim's fault that a serial killer had picked the girl as his next victim- McGee was just the one that gave the man his card, in case he ever needed anything else from NCIS. It wasn't all that hard for the deranged man to follow the agent home from work and take out his devastation on the one member of the team he remembered from the investigation. It could have been Gibbs or Tony. Or her. Except that it wasn't. The very thought gave Ziva chills. If the man had been even the slightest bit more intelligent he might have killed them all in one night. But he made the mistake of killing Tim alone- meaning he had some of the government's best investigators on his tail before the blood could dry on McGee's carpet.

They took him into custody, following the due process of law even though they all wanted so badly to kill the bastard then and there. Despite this, when they found him, Tony had to be pulled off of the guy before he roughed him up too much. As much as Jethro was tempted to let his agent beat up the man who killed McGee, he knew that if Tony went too far, the man could press charges of brutality against him and it would make the whole case far more difficult. Ziva watched them with a detached fury, letting it boil just beneath her skin, raising her body temperature. She would get her chance with the monster. She just had to wait.

Her chance came that same night. They'd all taken their turns interrogating him, despite the fact that Vance wanted to take them off the case, to no avail. His smug grin at the question "did you kill Agent Timothy McGee?" was enough to make Gibbs want to throw him through the mirror, but it was not a confession. They couldn't book him until they had evidence. Hard proof.

While Tony and Gibbs were out looking for said proof in the suspect's house, she was left to make phone calls to his relatives and coworkers to find what she could and to check out his alibi. The alibi was, unfortunately, a hard one to dispute. He claimed that he got off of work and went straight home- that traffic caused his commute to take longer than expected. She couldn't challenge this one- how to disprove that he wasn't caught in traffic? In Washington D.C., to boot. But she knew he did it.

Which is why she went down to his holding cell later on. The sleazy little man sneered at her the moment she came into view, but it quickly disappeared when she returned the gaze with her own frightening smile. It was the kind of smile a spider might give to a fly trapped in its web.

She closed the door to the cell behind her as she entered; the fear was now clear on his face. Ziva was disgusted. This was the man who ended McGee's life? This little coward was the object of her bloodlust? Tim was a hundred times the man his killer was. Obviously.

Speaking of McGee, Ziva could imagine his tired expression; his eyes begging even before he opened his mouth. Telling her it wasn't worth it, that this wasn't what he wanted for her. But there had been many times in their partnership that he'd begged her not to do something…and often, she ignored him. This would be one of those occasions.

She took her time with the bastard, not quite relishing in his agony but unable to bring herself to care all too much that he was in pain. Her eyes would appear dead to the outsider, but on the inside she was alight with fire and brimstone. The security cameras were conveniently out of commission in this room, as they would be for at least the next hour or so. The guards were given the ok to get lunch while she watched the prisoner.

Convenient.

She didn't kill him. She couldn't end her career that way. It wouldn't be fair, not to Tony or Gibbs. Or even to McGee. How could she make sure his killer was behind bars if she was terminated from her position at NCIS? Still, Ziva didn't finish her work on the man's pressure points until he was begging for mercy. The ex-Mossad agent used every trick in the book that she could think of to hurt the man without leaving any permanent abrasions to his skin. Fear, nerves…these were the weapons that she utilized. It wasn't quite the revenge she'd imagined, but it would do.

And it "did" more than she anticipated. The next morning, when Vance came down to the bullpen to announce that their suspect suffocated himself to death using the material from his shirt, the only sign of surprise that crossed her features was the quirk of an eyebrow. She didn't do it, but she knew that her actions the night before most likely prompted the man's actions. There was going to be a hell of an inquiry from Internal Affairs, but the man suffocated himself in secret while the cameras were running and security was right outside the door. His belt and shoelaces had been taken beforehand, so everyone had followed proper protocol. No one's job was at stake. And given the circumstances of the past week, and the death of McGee, Vance had everyone's backs. Tim was one of his favorite agents. He wasn't all that sorry to see the bastard dead either.

Ziva hadn't uttered any dramatic parting words for the man when she was finished with him. There were no tears, not even a removed sense of accomplishment that her revenge had been carried out. There was only that sadness, that empty hole in her heart. Her best friend was dead- there was no amount of violence, no vengeance that could fix that.

In fact, she didn't cry until after Tim's funeral. She walked down the steps of Gibbs' basement, trying hard not to think about the fact that the first time she was here, it was to kill her brother- the man who'd killed the last agent on their team to die. She didn't have to try too hard to chase these thoughts away, because her mind was stilled by the sight of Tony sitting at Gibbs' worktable while the boss worked on a large block of wood. He'd carved McGee's casket himself, but even that wasn't enough and his hands were already looking for another project to bring him the catharsis that not even alcohol could provide. DiNozzo's face was streaked with old tears, and when he looked up at her she could see that the only reason he wasn't crying at that very moment was the bourbon in his mason-jar glass. To see the senior agent so broken…it broke her in the exact same way.

She didn't cry when she killed Ari. But the loss of McGee….harmless, sensitive, unthreatening Timothy McGee, was enough to make her lose control. A pair of arms wrapped around her -Tony's- and they quietly sobbed into each other's shoulders as Gibbs watched on, consumed by his own grief. She could picture Tim's stricken face at the sight of their anguish as he pleaded with them, asked them not to do this to themselves, even though he would absolutely mourn them in the same way.

She already missed him. They all did, of course, but she knew that no one would ever give her such unconditional friendship as he had. After all, he wasn't just another partner.