A/N: Well…here we are. The end. Enjoy…Brown Eyes Only.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hadag Nachash. Also, I do not own the concept of a boat in a bottle. Personally, they really irk me because it makes me remember how frustrating it is to try to figure out how Gibbs gets those boats out of his basement. Grr. I equally do not own Rule Number Twelve, because who would want to own something that prevents Tiva? The only thing I do own is the concept of this fiction, Eliana, and all of the other characters that you don't recognize! (Coffee and Steubens included.)

The Davíd House, Parlor
0330 Hours
Thursday, December 9, 2010

Ziva and Tony stood by the door, surrounded by Eli, Lucy, Eliana, and Nina. Hugs and kisses went around numerous times and Eliana didn't fail to remind them of their responsibilities to each other now that they were married. Tony promised that in everything, he would stay true to Ziva, even though secretly he was laughing at the fact he had been 'married' by a five-year-old. To his partner. In spite of Rule Number Twelve.

"Tony, I know you have to go," Nina murmured, gently taking his elbow and breaking him out of his thoughts, "but I need to ask you something in private for a moment." Tony furrowed his eyebrows but followed her all the same to the kitchen, leaving Ziva and the rest of the family in the parlor to wait. When they arrived at the great marble countertop, Nina looked nervous and he felt bad for her. Finally, she blurted, "I have told Eli that my daughter is not going to be involved with the Mossad…" It was almost as though a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, because Tony could see that she was relieved. "You are the only one I have told other than him, but my mother would agree with me anyway."

He was reminded by her piercing stare that it was due to Adam's murder and nodded in understanding. "What did Director Davíd say?" Nina snorted and Tony figured that he hadn't been too pleased. "Didn't like it too much, did he?"

"Oh, he will put on a nice show now, Tony," the woman snapped, "but after you and Ziva leave, he will try to convince me to let her join." Sighing, she regained her composure. "I know that he feels her instincts and advanced intuition will make her a valuable officer, but I cannot risk losing my daughter, as well. Doda Rivka left … we have not heard from her, so she is just as good as dead. And if Ziva left forever…" She let out an angry huff. "I will not risk ending up like him. I love my daughter too much for that."

"That's what makes you a good mom, Nina. It's been a great time getting to know you and your precious daughter, and I've learned a lot about being a good parent." Tony dropped his voice. "I learned that from you, so feel proud that you and Eliana could teach a restless soul like me how to settle down and take responsibility." The last sentence was a joke but there was still a hint of truth behind his words. "Besides, I've made a few friends in Israel now. Who knows, I may be back. And when I do come back, Eliana had better not be a Mossad Officer. I've dealt with enough of those the past five years," he added, laughing.

Nina shrugged. "I try to be a good mother, and as much as I want Eliana to be happy and proud of her country, I honestly just want to get her out of it. If Lebanon launches an attack…" She shook her head as if forcing thoughts to pour out of her ears. "I want to keep her safe."

"If Lebanon launches an attack—if they do—you know where you can send her, Nina," Tony offered, taking Nina's hand. "Ziva loves that girl as her own daughter and I'm getting to the point where I'm comfortable around her. She's welcome in the States, I'll tell you that much."

"It means a lot for you to say that, Tony," she said, her tone hushed. "I hope that the reason I send her to you someday will not be because of violence here, but because of a friendly visit, in which case I will hopefully accompany her." Eli called for them to hurry up, and Nina hugged Tony tightly. "Be safe, Tony. Shalom." As Tony started for the kitchen door, she demanded with a chuckle, "And take care of my cousin! If you hurt her, I will be coming to the States to make sure you fix it!"

Tony smiled warmly, realizing, Hey! I kind of have a girlfriend again! And he was okay with that. "Alright, Nina. I won't mess around."

"Messing around is fine," Nina murmured with a wink. "Just do not mess things up." He winked back and gave her a lopsided grin before leaving the kitchen.

Tel Aviv Yafo Airport
0530 Hours
Thursday, December 9, 2010

"Thanks for the coffee," Tony murmured, snaking an arm around Ziva's back as they waited in the queue to board the plane. "You didn't have to buy me something…I've got an airport card."

Ziva arched an eyebrow. "Part of the Mile High Club, eh?" she joked, and leaned into his body. "After someone gave me such a beautiful gift last night, I was feeling extra generous." She toyed with the diamond Star of David that still hung around her neck. "I do not think there is any way that I can repay you…"

He smiled at her and said, "Yeah, there is. Just be you."

Finally, Ziva and Tony made it onto the plane and into their seats. Eli had tried to win Ziva over by upgrading their tickets to first class, and although it was a nice surprise when they checked in, she was still wary of any of his attempts. She had seen what his 'kindness' had done for her before and wasn't willing to be misled again. By anyone.

Therefore, when a beautiful Indian woman sat beside Tony and drew him into an in-depth conversation, Ziva grew angry with herself for believing for even a moment that her partner had changed the slightest bit. She pressed herself into the window and focused on her music, while watching the clouds go by.

Finally the Indian woman fell asleep, her ear-plugs firmly in place and a sleep-mask covering her eyes, and Tony turned to Ziva for entertainment. For a while, she ignored him and blared Hadag Nahash into her ears, but she eventually was forced to talk to him, albeit in clipped sentences.

After an hour or so, he'd had enough of her attitude. "Hey, Ziva, what's wrong?" he asked, trying to take her hand. Before he could touch her, she moved her hands to wind the headphones around her iPod, swiftly avoiding contact with him.

Ziva stared out the window and casually said, "Why don't you ask your new Indian friend."

Hurt, Tony said nothing more and instead plugged into his television screen on the back of the seat in front of his. How it had come to this after a week of building up to the best day of his life, he had no idea, but he wasn't about to push it. When she was ready to talk to him, she would.

He knew it was about Rati, the woman who had been assigned the seat next to him, but he couldn't quite tell why that had upset Ziva. He hadn't flirted with Rati at all, and was just being friendly. Besides, the woman couldn't speak a word of English, so the basis of their conversation was what little Tony had learned from Jaadugar, which he hadn't seen since it had come out on DVD in 1989 so he was rather fuzzy. He'd been laughing, talking to Rati, but only because he had felt so stupid. The language barrier was tough.

So why was Ziva so upset? There had been nothing going on. Hell, he had married the woman the previous night! Granted, it hadn't been for real, but…He rested his head on Ziva's shoulder, hoping that perhaps she would let him leave it there.

She did.

Frankfurt Airport
0805 Hours
Thursday, December 9, 2010

"So, Zeev," Tony murmured, handing Ziva her carry-on as they stepped out of the tunnel into the airport. "I think we need to talk."

Ziva was still displeased with him and just stared blankly into his eyes. "What about?"

He shifted weight uncomfortably to his other foot. "Why you're mad at me."

She sighed and shook her head. "I am not mad." After a brief pause, she added, "I am confused and hurt and I think we should just wait until we get home to talk about this."


Why? There were many reasons as to why she didn't want to talk about it. For one, they were in the middle of a German airport, surrounded by tourists and natives alike, and Ziva didn't want to make a scene. Secondly, she had no desire to look petty or desperate. They weren't together and she knew that once they got back to Washington D.C., she would have much explaining to do anyway. It would be much easier to pretend that there was nothing romantic going on between them if there really wasn't anything going on between them. In her mind, it would just work out better that way. Thirdly, she still partly felt as though she had used him as a means of forgetting her hurt and frustration over Eli, Liat, and Malachi. And fourth…She was simply pissed.

"Give me space, Tony." There was a hint of warning to her voice and he quickly shut up, although his eyes bled confusion. "Thank you." Ziva ordered a tea from a small kiosk and bought him another coffee. She was angry but not so much so that she wasn't able to be polite. "So, what are your plans for Christmas and New Year, again?"

Her partner furrowed his eyebrows, glanced at her necklace, and then stared into her eyes. "I don't have any," he told her, before sipping his coffee. "Abby might be having a Testosterone Party, I guess. She texted me but I don't know if I'm going. Other than that, I'm laying low."

"A Testosterone Party?" Ziva asked, arching an eyebrow?"

"Yeah. New York City, the Ball Drop...Ring in the new year?" She shook her head, none of it sounding familiar to her. "When a kid hits puberty his—"

Ziva held up a hand. "Can you explain it without being graphic?"


She sighed. "Fine. Proceed."

"Anyway, guys go through a bunch of changes and one of them is similar to the 'ball-dropping' of N.Y.C. So Abby's calling it a 'Testosterone Party' to make a play on words." Tony watched her face but was unable to find anything. He had hoped it would make her laugh, or at least smile, but he had failed.

Ziva simply shook her head. "I don't think I will be going either. It sounds a bit risqué for me." Tony looked at her and then moved a bit away from her. She watched him, wanting to say something but then chickening out.

"Look, Ziva; I don't know what I did wrong, and I don't know why you're upset, but I won't know either of those unless you talk to me," he finally stated firmly. "I want to know, and I want to learn, and I want to prove to you that I didn't mean to piss you off, but you've gotta help me with that, or it can't happen." He took out a magazine and started reading. Ziva assumed it was a Maxim or Playboy magazine but after inconspicuously glancing at the cover, she saw it was an Readers'Digest. The front revealed that it held a section for women and men to know what the other was thinking, as well as a plan for settling down. She felt bad but decided that since she didn't know how to fix it…she would let it run its course.

Just like the plane they stepped onto at one o'clock.

1430 Hours
Thursday, December 9, 2010

Ziva slept curled into her seat, Tony's arm around her shoulders and her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Then the turbulence set in and she began to feel nauseous and scared, so instead of sleeping, she gripped Tony's hand tighter than she ever had.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Tony murmured, flexing his fingers to try to regain circulation in them. Ziva just held on tighter and he finally had to let go altogether. "Ziva! We have an hour left, alright? If you can handle the flight to a carrier out on the ocean, you can handle this." It was true, she realized. This was nothing in comparison to their flight two years ago to go visit Tony on the Seahawk.

She nodded and then lowered her head onto his shoulder again. "I was upset with you because of the woman sitting next to you," she whispered, and then pressed her lips together.

"Oh, Rati?" Tony asked, and Ziva again bobbed her head. "Did you listen to any of our conversation?" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her as she shook her head 'no'. "You, my dear, are one of the very few Middle Eastern ladies that I have the pleasure of being able to talk to. Rati doesn't fall into that category, whatever way you cut it."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say … I don't know what she said, nor what I said, and I honestly think our conversation was about the fact the sky is green and fish live in trees," Tony explained, snickering. "But I may be wrong. I could have said that the trees are green and pink elephants live in the tropics. I honestly have no idea."

Ziva fell asleep shortly after, her confusion resolved and the situation controlled.

Dulles International Airport, Washington D.C.
1130 Hours
Thursday, December 9, 2010

"Oh my God!" Abby squealed, running at her coworkers at full force. "I thought I'd never see you again! Never take a vacation again, not that's eight days long, anyways! Well, no, I guess you can, because you deserve to, but oh my God, I'm so happy to see you!" She enveloped Tony in a hug first, and then Ziva, and then grabbed both of their hands and dragged them toward baggage claim. "McGee came with me to pick you guys up and Gibbs sends his best, but we're actually working a case right now so I have to be fast about getting back so that Major Mass Spec can tell me who we're lookin' at. But I wanted to give you your Chanukah gifts in person, Ziva, so I demanded to come and get you."

Dumbfounded by her monologue, Tony and Ziva followed Abby and then were joined by McGee, who had collected Tony and Ziva's suitcases and dress bags. "Hey, Ziva, Tony," Tim said with a smile, sticking out his hand. "Are you going home to rest up? Or are you coming back to Headquarters with us?"

Tony shook his hand and shrugged. "I'll go where I'm needed. I'm used to jetlag so I think I'm ready to go back to work." He sighed. What he really needed was a good night's sleep, but if his team needed him, he was prepared to help. "Brief me on the case on our way back, okay?"

"I, too, will do whatever is necessary," Ziva decided. "Did Gibbs say whether he wanted us there tonight or not?" Abby and McGee exchanged glances and the Israeli woman could tell that meant 'yes'. "Well, then, I suppose we do not have a choice anyway." She smiled but on the inside she just wanted to collapse in her bed and sleep for days.

Tony stepped forward to grab his suitcase and 'accidentally' bumped Ziva's hand. Neither minded much, but she blushed a bit regardless.

"Ziva! Did your dad give you that necklace?" Abby suddenly asked, and Ziva's hand flew to the pendant. "It's gorgeous."

"No," Ziva murmured. "He gave me other things, like books and a menorah."

"Then who gave you that?" Abby gently touched the pendant and turned it over, reading the inscription. "Wow, someone who must really love you! Look at all of these inscriptions…"

Ziva felt herself flush more and shook her head. "He told me not to tell." Tony tensed beside her. "I will ask him if it is okay." Abby stared at her in confusion and then shrugged. Ziva simply vowed to tell her later in private.

On the way to the car, McGee, too, noticed a gift. "Are those new cufflinks?" Tony nodded. "You get them in Israel?"

"Kind of. They were a gift."

"Oh yeah? From who?"

Tony pursed his lips and then said, "Can't say. Made me promise not to tell." Ziva glanced at him and then averted her eyes just as quickly. Changing the subject, he said, "So, what's the scoop on the case?" As they got in the car, they split up in the normal fashion; McGee driving, Abby in the front seat, and Tony and Ziva in the back.

As McGee filled them in, Ziva fell asleep with her head on Tony's leg. He didn't bother telling McGee about why it happened; he could tell both he and Abby already knew.

0001 Hours
Friday, December 10, 2010

"Hey, Boss," Tony murmured, walking directly to his desk and taking out his badge and gun and setting them on the top. He also set his carry-on bag down and pulled out the Mustang paperweight and address book.

"Duh-Nozzo," Gibbs replied, setting down the receiver of his phone. "How was Tel Aviv?"

The younger agent smiled and placed a small box on his boss' desk. "Better this time, since I wasn't under investigation for murder."

"You got me a gift." Gibbs shot him a look that clearly said, 'You didn't have to get me anything…'

"Oh, it's not a present," Tony said quickly, "it's your next project!" He watched his leader unwrap it and pull out a small bottle with a boat in it. "Thought maybe you could figure out how they do that, and then start on those. Easier to get out of your basement, probably…" At Gibbs' stare he shut up and retreated to his desk. "McGee filled us in on the case, Boss. Sounds pretty complicated."

Gibbs nodded. "We've had this guy under surveillance for at least a week and we've still got nothing. Abby's been killing herself over the DNA samples and Ducky's autopsy didn't give us a lead on what direction to go." Tony didn't say anything but knew his team was stumped. "Good thing you and Ziva are back, though. Steubens and Coffee weren't helping."

"Well, it's good to be back," Tony said with a grin, reclining in his rollie-chair. "McGee said there was an ex-wife. Has anyone found her yet?" Gibbs shook his head. "I'll call around first thing in the morning. Well, I mean, later. Right after I—"

"Go home and sleep? Yeah, good thinking. Be here by nine." With that dismissal, Tony nodded and left the building, nearly running into Ziva on the way to his car.

"Hey," he murmured, rubbing his hands together to fight off the cold. Part of him wished someone had given him mittens for Chanukah.

Ziva bowed her head and shivered. "I should explain something."

"Beg pardon?"

"I was not sure whether it was okay for McGee and Abby to know that you had given me the necklace. That being said, we never decided whether we would be talking freely about Chanukah or if we were just going to pretend like it didn't happen. I feel as though that is a discussion we should be having soon," she blurted, getting everything off her chest. "Oh, and you are allowed to tell McGee I gave you the cufflinks."

Taken aback, Tony ran a hand through his hair, deciding that not only did he need a haircut, but he wished it was Ziva's hand. "Abs can know about the necklace, too." After biting his cheek, he added, "And I don't want to forget Chanukah. Any of it."

"You don't."

"Nope." Tony and Ziva stood there staring at each other for a while before smiling and wishing each other good night. He walked to his car before walking back into the building after Ziva, who was just leaving. "You need a lift? I picked up from your apartment last week," Tony offered, extending his hand. "Besides, your luggage is already in my car." Ziva hesitated and then finally agreed, following him to his parking spot and getting into the passenger side seat.

Tony had been going to get the door for her but stopped short when he saw she had already sat down. "Am I not allowed to be a gentleman now that we're back in D.C.?" he asked, sending her a goofy grin that he correlated with lack of sleep and jetlag. Ziva shook her head and stared out the window, her arms crossed over her chest protectively. Tony turned the heat on full blast and set up her seat-warmer for her. "You cold?"

"A little."

"Do you hate me or something now?" Tony asked abruptly, stopping at a red light. "Because ever since we got off the plane you've seemed really uncomfortable around me and I just want to know why."

"Tony, not now."

He turned to look at her for a moment before the light turned green. "No, Ziva, we need to figure this out if it's going to work."

"Do you want it to work?"

"Yes, I want it to work!" He stopped at another stoplight and again turned to face her. "Do you think I'd've gotten you something like that if I didn't? Do you think I'd've gone with you if I didn't care about you at all? What do you think I feel, Ziva?" The light again turned green and he started driving again. "Why wouldn't I want it to work?"

Ziva sighed. "Tony, I was thinking…"

"Uh-oh, that's never good," he groaned.

"…and I think that it would be best if we focused on work right now."

"'Right now'? When won't we be working for NCIS?" Tony asked persistently. "You think we're just going to magically not be working for NCIS and then all of this'll just work out on its own?" He was reminded of Jeanne's last letter to him. "Look, I've been told in the past that I have to choose between love and my job." Ziva sucked in a breath. "You know what? I choose you. So even if you don't want a relationship, you're still going to be stuck with me, because I'm not just going to leave."

"So you are going to stalk me."

Tony shook his head, his nose flaring slightly. "No, Zeev, I'm going to be whatever you need me to be."

Tony's Apartment
0300 Hours
Friday, December 10, 2010

He couldn't sleep. He knew that in six hours, he needed to be at work, and while he was exhausted, his conversation with Ziva in the car had bothered him so much that he still couldn't calm his mind. So he sat and read through the books that she had given him for Chanukah, starting with The Man's Manual. Half of the stuff between the covers defined what Tony used to be, not what he was now. Since Jeanne, he had really grown up. He didn't want the 'sex' bull-crap that the book prescribed. He wanted a life…no, he wanted a wife, he told his inner-Eliana, and then smiled reminiscently about the little girl.

Tony grabbed Thank You and held it in his hands. So, she thanked him for all he did for her and then told him she basically wanted nothing to do with him. Letting out a chuckle, he thought, Just my mother-effing luck, huh, DiNozzo? Flipping through its pages, Tony dropped the book as a piece of cream stationary fell from inside them. He bent down and picked it up to inspect it. It didn't take him long to figure out what it was.

Dear Tony…

There is much to say, but little room to say it. And there is also the problem of how to say it, and that is what worries me. Not that I will fail to say the "right" thing, but the possibility that you will interpret it the wrong way. But you are also intelligent, so I suppose I can just write down exactly how I feel and leave it up to you to perceive it the right way.

There are never enough ways to thank someone; a 'thank you' never seems sufficient. I know we do not talk about the "event", if you will, in Somalia, nor have I brought it up recently. Neither have you, for which I am grateful.

I do not wish to talk about it on most occasions, nor do I care to right now, however, I have something to say.

Tony, when I said I was ready to die, I was. Anything to protect my team, and my family. Anything to work for the cause I was sent there to promote: Justice. No, I did not want you to come and save me; but that was only because the thought of you getting killed for something I got myself into was too painful for me. Yet, you fought to save me. And you did.

When I asked you to come to Israel with me, you put work on hold and hopped on a plane halfway across the world to spend eight days with a family you had never met. You have no idea what that means to me. My father could have held a grudge for what happened to Michael. My family could have hated you. But you crossed the threshold into the house and equally into my family's hearts.

When I was upset, you held me. When I was happy, you laughed with me. When I was angry, you fought for me.

My 'family' is truly in America. I love Nina, and I love my aunt, and I love Eliana more than anyone could imagine, but my real family is comprised of those I work with. Ducky is my favorite uncle. Abby is my little sister. McGee is my brother. Gibbs is my father and above all of that, you are the man who walks into a party and steals my heart every single day. You steal it, fix it, and then replace it within hours of being around me.

You were not a knight in shining armor just back in Somalia; no, Tony, you are always my knight, and always will be.

Thank you.

Love, Ziva.

Tony didn't know what to do, so he decided to handle it in a few days when everything had smoothed over, the case had been solved, and life more or less had gone back to normal.

Ziva's Apartment
0500 Hours
Friday, December 10, 2010

She had gotten two hours of sleep that night, but even with only one-hundred-and-twenty minutes of rest under her belt she already felt better, and could think clearer. So much clearer, in fact, that she had almost called Tony to apologize for putting him through all that she had. Right before dialing the last digit of his phone number, however, she had slammed the phone down and hidden it under the pillow on her couch, decidedly getting up to make herself some tea.

1100 Hours
Monday, December 13, 2010

The case was closed more quickly than the NCIS team had predicted, what with having had no idea where the ex-wife was or who the murderer had been. Finally, they had figured it all out with the help of Tony and Ziva's fresh eyes on the case and had successfully arrested the suspect. Without that hanging over his head, Tony was able to think more about how to approach Ziva.

He looked in his address book. There under Davíd was Nina's name, address, and telephone number. Tony had assumed she would have had Adam's last name, but supposed that since she was a widow, she might have reverted to her maiden name. He still wasn't aware of the familial lineage there so quickly dropped it and looked instead for Ziva. There, plain as day, was her address, phone number, and other information. And there, in the corner, was 'addsomal445909', which he still had yet to decipher. It is something you have wanted for a very long time, Ziva had told him that night. "What could it be?" he groaned, writing it down on a piece of paper.

After working on it for a few hours, he had only figured out the first half. A.D.D. were his initials, and 'somal' obviously meant 'Somalia'. But the numbers he couldn't figure out. Maybe '09' was the year, which would make sense because that was the year she had been taken hostage. They found her in September, which could be represented by the other nine. She was in Somalia for four months and three days, or more. It all came back to Somalia.

But why would she write that in an address book…?

Headquarters, Abby's Lab
1400 Hours
Monday, December 13, 2010

"Hello, Abby," Ziva greeted the Goth girl. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," Abby murmured, carefully setting down a thermometer and then turning her music off. Ziva was briefly reminded of when she had returned to NCIS after Tony, McGee, and Gibbs had saved her from Som— "What did you say to Tony?" Abby shouted, throwing her arms out. "He's been moping for three days, and it all somehow comes back to you." The other woman stared silently at her. "Well, I don't know how it does, but it just does, okay? What did you fight about?"

Ziva sighed. "I do not know, Abby."

"Where did you really get the necklace, then, huh?"

She pressed her eyes shut. "Tony."

"See? I knew it! But, that also means there was a reason for it, and dammit, you're treating him like crap! He's Tony! You know, the one with a heart of gold and enough good looks to whet the appetite of a thousand women or more? Yeah, him." Abby stopped short of Ziva and put a hand on either of the other woman's shoulders. "But he chose you. There's something to be said for that, Ziva."

Ziva nodded, her mind made up. She had to talk to him. She had to fix things.

When she returned to the bullpen, Tony was on the phone, so she walked back down the hallway to get herself a cup of tea. And then when she sat down at her desk, he was nowhere to be found. She frowned. Better luck next time, she thought.

Ziva's Apartment
2100 Hours
Monday, December 13, 2010

The doorbell rang and Ziva pressed the button of the intercom, hoping it was the delivery man with her Thai dinner. "Who is it?"

"Uh…Tony. Hey, you have an intercom, too? Nifty." His voice sounded gravelly, as though he had spent his entire life smoking cigars, and she grew a bit concerned.

"I will be right down to let you in." She gathered her bathrobe around her and grabbed the key to her apartment before slipping on her slippers and going down to the first floor. When she saw him, she couldn't help but smile. "You brought me dinner."

Tony nodded. "I, uh, intercepted the kid who was delivering it. He left in a hurry. Probably wanted to score something more than a tip," he teased, causing Ziva to laugh. "I ordered some for myself, too. Thought we could maybe have dinner together." She had thought perhaps he'd miss the big parties that Chanukah brought.

"Sure." Ziva led him upstairs to her apartment and unlocked the door. After uncorking a bottle of apricot wine, she sat and gestured for him to do the same as she poured two glasses of the burnt-orange liquid. Taking a shaky breath, she began, "Tony, about the other night…"

"Forget about it," Tony murmured. "You were tired and confused. I understand. But I came over for a different reason…" Ziva cocked her head. "I found your note, and I wanted to say 'you're welcome'." She flushed crimson and took a sip of wine. "No, no, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. At least, not for you. I should be, because it's nothing to say 'you're welcome' for. You're my partner and at the time, you were my closest friend. I felt the need to protect you. Still do."

Ziva looked around awkwardly before whispering, "Thanks."

Tony ignored it and kept going. "And then, I figured out what 'addsomal445909' meant." She snapped her brown eyes to his green ones. "Something I've wanted for a long time, eh? And what could that have possibly been?" he joked. "Your e-mail password."

She looked rather bashful for a moment and then said, "Yes."

"And why did you give me your e-mail password?"

"Because I trust you." Before Tony could say any more, she launched into a great explanation about why she had been afraid of having a relationship with him, and why she had acted the way she had in the car. By the end of it, she was holding his hand with both of her own, leaning halfway across the table, staring at him imploringly. She ended her speech with, "And I love you."

"I love you, too, Zeev," Tony whispered, covering her hands with his free one.

And they spent all night talking, remembering, and joking, just as if nothing had happened at all.

A/N: It has been a nutty ride, huh? I mean, first they were in D.C., and then they were in Israel for nine days, and then they were back in D.C., and somewhere in there they had slept together, and then they broke up, and then they got back together and … well, here we are, just as the producers of NCIS leave us hanging every single week. Sorry about that. I hope you've all enjoyed it, and I'm so happy that you've stuck with it that long. I treasure each of my readers and thank all of you so much for all of your fantastic reviews! Look for any of my future pieces; they're bound to come along soon! Love, Kathryn.