Big thanks to the Mecha—you know what you did. Love to all- review?

Chapter One: Losing my Religion

"That's me in the corner.

That's me in the spotlight, losing my religion.

Trying to keep up with you, and I don't know if I can do it.

Oh no, I've said too much,

I haven't said enough."

R.E.M, Losing my Religion

Abby had her Ziva radar on even before the team came down to present her with evidence. Navy Officer Daniel Grossman had been beaten to death and left, naked and bleeding, in front of a Synagogue in Bethesda. Someone had carved something similar to the Star of David Jews had been forced to wear during World War II on his broad chest.

Ziva didn't react to much—hell, Abby had seen her stomach crime scenes far more gruesome than this one without so much as a bat of her long, dark lashes, but this was different. Or at least she hoped it might be. The no-emotion-super-stealth-ninja act was starting to grate on her nerves. If this didn't rattle the cage of Ziva David, Abby was sure she would have to be labeled a cold-blooded robot. And if that happened, her civility was probably going to reach the end of its short life.

She sighed and looked at the date on her digital calendar. Gibbs had been gone for 2 weeks, four days, 11 hours and 21 minutes. The elevator dinged, signaling the team's arrival, and she turned around as Tony and McGee hauled in heavy boxes of evidence.

"Got you a present, Abbs," Tony declared, shaking out his stiff hands.

"And more on the way," McGee added, and, as if conjured magically, Ziva appeared in the doorway lugging a box that had to be twice as heavy as she was. Ziva deposited her load on the stainless steel table with no fanfare and stepped back, smoothing her hands on her cargo pants. Abby frowned and studied her- Ziva's expression eerily vacant. There was a bit of an awkward, loaded silence before Tony clapped his hands.

"We need this stuff processed right away, Abbs."
"I'll go as fast as I can, but there's only one me and a whole lotta stuff to sort through, and I know you want it done right, so-"

Tony cut her off by stuffing a Caf-Pow! into her hand. "Call me when you got something," he barked, but not unkindly, and took off towards the elevator.

McGee followed behind him, but Ziva was glued to the spot, her gaze pinned on Officer Grossman's service ID photo that Abby had pulled up through AFIS.

"You ok?" She ventured.

Ziva snapped out of it, her eyes wild for a brief moment before she composed herself. "I am fine." She replied, tone over formal, and walked briskly out of the lab.

…..

Eight o'clock came and went without a break in the case. Ziva took a swig from her cup of coffee and winced—It was cold. How many hours had it been since she'd gone to the cart outside to get it? She tossed it in the trashcan, relishing in the dull thud it made.

Abby hadn't finished processing all the evidence, and without it they had hit a dead end. Tony and McGee began to pack up their things, but she remained at her desk-merely nodded at him when he bid her farewell.

Tony leaned his hip against the desk and crossed his arms. "Want to come over tonight? I got a case of beer, and we can order food—whatever you want."

"No thank you."
He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. "C'mon, Zi, you look like hell."

"I am not in the mood for company tonight. Perhaps another time." She did not even take her eyes away from the computer screen, where she was trying to focus on bank statements. The numbers were beginning to run together as her focus wavered and her temper flared. She hated when he didn't listen to her. She wanted to stomp her feet.

"I know when you say that you don't mean it. There's nothing more we can do tonight, so let's call it a day and head out. We can go to your place if you want." She continued to ignore him, hoping he would take the hint. He did not, and reached over and hit the power button on her computer. The screen went black.

"It's time to-"

"You idiot!" Ziva seethed. Her face and neck began to burn hot with rage. She bolted out of her chair and pushed him away, hard, with both hands to his chest.

"Can you not see that I was in the middle of reviewing information that could be crucial to our investigation?"

Tony moved back with his hands in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she threw her stapler at him. It bounced off his gut and he gaped at her, shocked-maybe even pissed. She felt a small pang of guilt, but pushed it away. The few agents that were left in the bullpen peered over the cubicle walls. She took a deep breath in order to maintain what little composure she had left. Gossip traveled fast around the Navy Yard. When she spoke next she could hear how low and dangerous her voice was.
"You have once again let the fact that we are sleeping together color how you treat and view me as a colleague. You crossed a line, Tony."
"Zi, I-" he stammered, face flushed and remorseful.
"Please go. I will see you tomorrow."

Tony hemmed for a moment, seeming to want to say something, but changed his mind and stormed off. She could swear she saw him wipe at his cheeks.

Ziva took a breath and booted her computer back up. She groaned in frustration when her screen showed an error message. A lump formed in her throat. Pull yourself together! Ziva scolded, and stalked toward the break room, away from prying eyes. She reached into her pocket for quarters with shaking hands and pressed for a cup of coffee. She was so worked up that when she picked it up she spilled hot liquid all over her hands and jeans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit!" She hissed, and began to kick the vending machine with a ferocity she thought she'd been too weary to deliver. Ziva kicked and grunted until a small voice coughed behind her. She wheeled around, and was shocked to see Abby standing almost shyly in the doorway, empty Caf-Pow! dangling from her manicured hand.

"Abby." She greeted dumbly, and felt herself redden from her face to her newly scuffed combat boots.
"You okay, Ziva?" Abby asked, moving carefully towards her, as if approaching a feral animal.

Ziva had to take a deep, steadying breath. "I am fine, Abby."

Abby cocked her head. "You sure?"

"I appreciate your concern, but like I said, I am fine". Something unwelcome and foreign tightened in her chest. She stared at the mess in front of her until Abby produced napkins from her enormous purse. Ziva merely nodded her thanks and mopped up the spilled coffee- she was suddenly deflated, exhausted even. She was a little girl again, cleaning up after her father's violent temper sent her mother to the hospital. Ziva blinked hard and stood up, back aching.

"See you tomorrow, Ziva," Abby called after her as she slunk out of the break room. Ziva did not return the gesture.