A/N: This is a fanfiction based on a photo taken on set last year. It takes place during 7.02 Reunion, so spoilers for that, for 7.01, and for the end of season six.

I know this chapter is really short but the next one will make up for it, I promise!

Thanks a million for reading, truly. Reviews are always appreciated, especially since this is the first multi-chapter fanfic I've published in a while. Enjoy! (:

His brain doesn't start really functioning again until he's sitting filing paperwork after Elaina's been put behind bars—the forms mockingly ask him the manner of the arrest and it takes all of his willpower not to just write "BAMF"—but when his brain does resume, it goes into overtime. All of a sudden his mind is back in the men's room and Ziva is standing there, talking to him, apologizing. And that just makes no sense whatsoever because it's Ziva, dammit, and since when did she apologize?

He stares at the page for so long that he doesn't notice when Gibbs silently approaches his desk and creeps up behind him. And when he does notice his boss hovering over his shoulder, he winces, preparing for a headslap. When he doesn't get a smack to the back of his head, Tony looks up at his boss, puzzled.

Gibbs leans over so that only Tony can hear his words. "Did she talk to you?" he whispers gruffly.

How the hell does he do that? How does he always know? Tony, bewildered, nods mutely. Gibbs leans back and stares at Tony's face, really stares at him, trying to read him and listen to the voices in his head and hear whatever it was Ziva said to him. Tony shifts uncomfortably, wondering if his face gives him away. Finally, his boss leans over again.

"Get outta here, DiNozzo. Go get some sleep," Gibbs orders him softly, then claps a hand on the agent's shoulder and walks back to his desk. Tony's head spins. What is around here? He waits for a moment to see if Gibbs will come back and tell him that he was kidding, to finish his damn paperwork, but he doesn't. He just sits contentedly at his desk, pulls out a sandwich and begins to eat his dinner.

So Tony gathers his things and shuts off his desk light. He pauses awkwardly in front of Gibbs's desk for a moment, and when he doesn't look up from his sandwich, Tony clears his throat. Gibbs's gaze doesn't move. "Yes, Tony?" he says irritably. Tony shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then back again, thinking of what he wants to say. Finally, he just mutters, "Thanks, boss," then turns and makes his way to the elevator.


His mind is completely on autopilot and he finds himself driving in circles for a while.

That you had my back.

That you have always had my back.

And that I was… wrong to question your motives.

No. It is I who am sorry.

He suddenly makes a sharp turn down a side street and he hears several cars behind him beep and swerve to avoid hitting him. He barely notices.

The conversation hadn't ended, not really. When she told him she should have trusted him because he was a cop, he had an idea about the case and fled the bathroom in a hurry. He hadn't gotten a chance to say his part. He'd left her hanging.

He ends up in front of her building, staring up at the apartment that used to be hers. Now, the windows are boarded up and the bricks are still stained black. Apparently, they haven't repaired the damage from when her apartment was blown up months back. He grits his teeth at the memory of it.

Time to make things right.