A/N: I decided to do a sequel to Jealousy. This is called "Chasing Her Demons" and it should give you a bit of insight as to what this is about. Enjoy for me, okay? I don't own NCIS, but I guess I own Charlee Hunter. This is the beginning so it's rather short, but I have to start somewhere.

People often refer to parts of their past that haunt them as their "demons;" these demons which they wish to forget and move on from, ridding their minds of the memories connected to the traumatic events that comes with such demons. In sleep, they are often visited by demons, even though they know – at least in the waking world – that these demons will most likely never come back.

Most likely.

Some people aren't so lucky.

***

Alight above DC, the moon glares down at the city below. Normally this would be calming, but on that night, it was terrifying. It seemed to hold all of the fury of the murderers she hunted and the families demanding answers. However, she was not focused on this simple detail.

She was crying despite herself, and her heart beat wildly as she tried not to scream. Her hands reached for the sleek black phone in her jeans but found nothing. Now she could panic.

As she felt her shirt ripped over her head, she cried out loudly, only to feel a fist to the side of her head. She gulped back some of the fear and tried to regain her composure and push the man off. He just smiled wickedly and ripped his own shirt off.

There's no Tony to save her this time.

Ziva's eyes opened abruptly and she shot up in bed, hand instantly reaching for the gun that lay, discarded last night, on the end table beside her bed. Her breath came out short and quick as she tried to come to grips with her surroundings. This was not her apartment three weeks ago. This was not even her apartment.

Slowly, she lowered her gun back onto the table and turned her head to look at the man beside her. Only a moment ago he'd been sleeping, but now his eyes were wide open and spiked with concern. He reached out a large hand to take hers and she gladly accepted it, wrapping her fingers with his.

"Ziva," he murmured and sat up to allow him to pull himself closer to her. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded automatically but felt his arms wrap around her anyway. Ziva accepted the offer of comfort and snuggled against him, feeling his warm lips press tenderly against the side of her neck. "I'm okay… I think."

"That dream again?" he whispered against her neck and he felt her nod against him. "It'll be okay, trust me. I won't let him get to you again. As far as I know, Charlee's gone."

"I don't want to see him again," she admitted, pressing closer to him if possible. "Tony, what day is it?"

"No idea," he grinned in reply, moving his head so that it was on top of hers. Her eyes were drooping and hair matted; he felt instantly guilty. How had he not noticed her lack of sleep last night?

It was a late night. For all of us.

"I hope we do not have to work," came the muffled reply as she shifted to allow her hands to splay delicately on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips. "I am tired."

Tony smiled and pulled the blanket up around them as best as he could with one hand, letting the soft white cloth fall at about her knees. "I know, I'm tired, too," he admitted. "We should be okay as long as Gibbs doesn't call."

"I know," she whispered, nuzzling into his neck. "Tony, how did we get here?"

"How did we… wait," he paused and stared at her, trying to figure out her thoughts. "What?"

"Just three weeks ago we were fighting," she whispered, barely audible. "It was my fault with Charlee and all, but I hardly expected us to be lying together. Like this."

"Why not," he questioned quietly.

"Think about it. How did we get here?" she questioned again, shifting her arm to wrap it around his neck.

"Charlee… assault…" he paused to gauge her reaction before continuing, "…broke his nose… saved you… fell asleep with you in my arms… told you… you kissed me two days later – knew you couldn't resist me -"

Ziva pinched him lightly at this and he yelped. "That wasn't fair!"

"What wasn't fair, my little hairy butt?" she asked, faking innocence.

"Don't 'what wasn't fair' me!"

"Whatever, Tony, I am tired."

He smiled, waiting patiently for her eyes to close and for her to slip into a deep sleep. Despite his best efforts, his eyes closed first, leaving her to listen to his quiet breathing for many minutes before finally giving in to sleep again.

In his arms, she'd feel no fear.

He'd save her this time.