A little more than a year later, this is finally wrapped up. Hope it satisfies.

Chapter 9

Tony watches as Lewis Mickelson goes from fervently denying and mocking all charges against him to crumbling in front Gibbs. It happens in a second; much like a demolition crew that takes down a high-rise building. One minute its there and the next…its just dust.

It is clear that Lewis Mickelson is caught up in something so much greater than himself. And yet, it doesn't diminish what he did to Ziva.

And his anguish over going too far with Claudia Meyers will not bring her back to her husband. It's a crime that Mickelson will pay for, for the rest of his life. And yet, he'll serve that sentence nowhere near where Kahn is serving his own. Funny how the things we do to get closer to people we love sometimes just tear us away.

Tony will never forget the anguish on Timothy Meyers' face and the extent to which he identified with it. For the foreseeable future, that man's life is over. He's going to have to climb from the trenches. Tony hopes Meyers is strong enough for the climb, because he's pretty sure that he, himself, would not be.

Maybe he's not cut out for the high stakes. He can't remember the last time he felt so jaded about their jobs – about the world. He knows why. He's very aware as to why some cases are easier for him to separate than others and he knew that going into this.

When they decided to give them a go, he agonized over whether or not to just find a new job. Of course, he didn't tell Ziva that … or Gibbs, for that matter. Internally, however, he wondered if he could handle having her and then watching as the world and all it's darkness tried to harm her.

Predictably, he came to the conclusion that watching from the sidelines would be harder than feeling the wind as it knocked her down.

He slips out of the room just as McGee reaches for the phone to call the Federal Marshalls to bring Mickelson to prison. This chapter has ended, but they'll just enter another one that'll contain more bad guys and angry ex-lovers tomorrow, maybe even later tonight if they're extremely unlikely.

Ziva is still dutifully typing on her computer when Tony returns to the squadroom. She needs the distraction. Her thoughts are too easily swayed toward interrogation and whether she wanted to face another one of her tormentors. Tony saunters over and takes a seat on the side of her desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him clasp his hand in effort to keep his mouth shut.

She keeps her eyes trained on the monitor. "Do you need to file an incident report?" she asks.

He twists his lips into a small smile. "No. I stayed on the right side of the glass. But Gibbs might."

"Really?" she cocks her eyebrow, a little more interested.

"I don't think so," he says. "But it almost got there."

"That is surprising." She remarks. "Gibbs is usually … of the utmost professionalism."

"Well… Ziva," he pauses and the way he says her name makes her look up at him, "For some us…it's hard to be professional about you." He holds her gaze for a few beats after his sentence finishes.

She looks down. Sometimes the care and love that they have for her makes her uncomfortable. She's not used to people be willing to throw it all out the window for her. Years later, part of her still feel that she is expendable.

Tony slips off her desk, but not before running a hand over her shoulder.

"Agent DiNozzo, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Do you have a few, Duck?" Tony asks. Ducky is scrubbing down autopsy tables, but he looks more like a bus boy running from table to table, than a licensed medical examiner. It's been a slow few weeks for medical examiner; so slow that once they located Ziva, Ducky gave Jimmy a few days off to help Breena work on their nursery for their soon to arrive baby.

"Time is something I have an abundance of, Agent DiNozzo." He puts down his rags and slips the gloves off his hands.

"It's Ziva." Tony begins.

Ducky smiles. "Who else would it be?" He asks, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Tony bites his lip, flashes the DiNozzo smile of discomfort and nods. "Yeah." He agrees. "It has always been her, hasn't it?"

Ducky stares at him and Tony takes that as a sign to continue. "I just worry that I couldn't handle this if it happened again. I mean, I spent the last few days wanting to kill almost every possible suspect and … I worry, Ducky, that if there's a next time, I'll do something wrong."

Silence fills the room and it's oppressive – for Tony, at least, but then Ducky shifts in his chair. "I think you probably would have said that to me if this conversation had been acceptable the last time our dear girl was separated from us."

Tony rolls his eyes. "I almost choked Trent Kort," he remembers.

"And you were not even involved then."

"Technically speaking, no." But really, when were they not involved? An hour before they met?

"Anthony, do you see either of you leaving the job in the near future?"

"Not right now," He decides.

"Then you must remind yourself that you made it through another battle because that was what the world required of you and, if need be, you'll make it through again."

By the time he appears back in the bullpen, she's ready to leave without him. She's tired and doesn't like the thought of being here much longer. But she doesn't say that to him when he appears. Tony wasn't working; she can assume that much. Gibbs and McGee left an hour ago – both offering to drive her home in the absence of her wayward partner.

She's leaning against the partition, skimming a text from Jess about how relieved they are she's safe and that they want to make them dinner this weekend.

"Hi," he murmurs. He steps behind his own desk, switches off the light and grabs his things. He spends a moment searching through the desk's drawers looking for his keys before she notices and jingles them from her hand.

"Were you going to leave without me?" he asks. She can tell that he's trying to seem light and easy, but his mood is anything but.

She, however, is just plain exhausted and has little idea as to how she's going to deal with melancholic Tony. "I thought about it." She states.

He nods and he looks a little afraid of her.

"Are you hungry," he asks her as they walk in the door.

She shakes her head. She drops her bag on an armchair and sets her gun in their safe. "I think I am going to take a bath," she sighs, "you can eat without me if you want."

He nods and watches as she heads to their bedroom. She looks exhausted and he can't blame her. The week that she's had certainly merits exhaustion.

He slips into a kitchen chair and rubs a hand over his face. She's exhausted and he's ….he doesn't know what he is. He stares at the table for a moment. He was so beside himself when she was missing. He was so overcome with anguish about the trauma that she could possibly be enduring. Tony's disturbed by the fact that he was completely immobilized … paralyzed by that fear and anguish. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't help her and she's supposed to be able to count on him for that. Above everyone else, she's supposed to be able to count on him to come find her. Through anything.

Tony pushes himself up from the table and opens the fridge. He's not particularly hungry, but the bottle of white wine is quite appealing. He pulls it and pours two glasses.

Tony takes the glasses into the bathroom, figuring he needs to redeem his doofus-ness to Ziva. She was the one who a bad few days. He just couldn't keep his head on straight.

He knocks rhythmically twice on the door.

"Yes?" she asks.

He pushes bathroom door open and instantly knows exactly why she wanted to go to her apartment tonight. Lavender soap wafts through the air, the bubbles covering her chest and there are candles – albeit electric, doting every square inch of the bathroom – from the side of the tub to the windowsill and the edge of the sink. Yes, this is why she wanted to go to her place and not his tonight.

She smiles when she sees the wine in his hand and he thinks that she finally looks as if she has unwound herself.

"Steaming yourself?" he asks.

She takes the glass from him and sips. Ziva bats her eyes. "I deserve it," she says petulantly.

"Oh, Sweetcheeks," Tony smiles, he settles down next to the tub and reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "No one is denying that."

She flutters her eyes and smiles at him.

Tony licks his lips and sighs. "I should apologize for my…me…this evening."

She nods. "Where did you go?" She asks. "I'm guessing you did not kill Mickelson. I would've heard about that."

He chuckles. "Yes, you would have." He pauses. "I went to see Ducky. Needed to work some things through."

"And did you?"

"A little," he concedes. "I…uh…should've been better when we were looking for you. I should've taken charge. But…I…ah….nearly collapsed instead. Gibbs and McGee – they got you back. Not me."

She stares at him and then her hand comes out of the water and cups the side of his face. Warm water drips down his neck. "You love me," she chokes out. "Not that they do not," she clarifies, "But you…you love me."

He reaches up and covers her hand with his. "More than anything," he says.

At some point, he's not sure when, he realizes that not only are there tears streaming down her cheeks, but his as well. And when he leans over and catches her mouth in a kiss, he swears she's never tasted so precious.

"Come in," she murmurs against him.

He's quick to get rid of his clothes and slide him behind her. He's quick, but not graceful and then expletive that comes from his mouth after he hits his elbow brings some much-needed levity to the air.

"It does not matter to me," she says once his arms are settled around her shoulders.

"What?" He drops kisses along her neck and collarbone.

"I have never been loved like that." She explains. "My father would have never been so overcome with…grief…that he could not continue. For Tali – maybe, but not for me."

"I'm not your father." He whispers.

"I know that. Tony, I do."

"Work," he reminds her, "Will always be second to you. And that was why I faltered. You were work and work was you and I didn't know how to go."

"You were the first person I saw. That is what I mean. That is all that matters."

He's not sure what to say to that. That was the only thing that he had been sure of – that when they found her, not if, but when, he would be right there and he would get her. Tony reaches up and grazes his knuckles against her cheek, much like he did in that basement.

She gets the reference. She's Ziva – what does he expect – and curls into him. "Yes." She says. "I knew it was you."

He thinks about responding, but he can't decide what he wants to say. So he just kisses the back of her neck and keeps his arms wrapped around her.

The stay silent for a while, her fingers lazily drawing lines up and down his arm, but eventually, she turns her head and stares at him.

He stares back.

"It will happen again." She says.

"No it won't."

"Maybe not like that, but we have a dangerous job and very strong feelings and we will have to push through again."

"That's what Ducky said to earlier. Well, in a nutshell."

She hums quietly in agreement. "He is usually right."

"Yeah I know." He shrugs. "I want to protect you from everything. Normal people can say this and not have to put it into action on a daily basis."

"Well then," she says, "I guess normal people don't mean it like you do."

He likes that notion. Tony smiles at the statement. "I love you." he says.

She smiles. "And I want to protect you from everything as well."

Please let me know what you think. Thanks. Cara.