After a heavy debate and a couple of intense games of rock, paper, scissors, Dr. Pitt finally lost and was sent in to McGee's ICU unit to break up the fight.

"Hey!" He shouted as he entered the room, but nobody but McGee heard him, "HEY!" he shouted louder, and they all stopped and turned to look at him. He let out a sigh of relief, amidst their angry faces, and then put his hands up, "Remain calm. Tony, Ziva, take your argument outside, please."

Tony huffed and so did Ziva before they were shoved out of the room by Dr. Pitt.

Once outside and the door closed, Tony immediately turned to her, "What were you doing with this?" He demanded, pointing to his medical file.

"I just wanted to know, Tony." She said, and he studied her eyes for a moment before storming off down the hallway. She sighed and followed him, "Tony! Listen to me!" She called after him, "I just wanted to know…to understand…"

He abruptly turned on her, knocking her backwards a little, "The only thing I understand right now is that you don't feel strongly enough to just ask me, Ziva, just ask!"

"I thought it would be painful to talk about…I…" She started again, but Tony continued to yell and cut her off.

"You thought it would be painful to talk about?! Well that's not the only painful thing around here, Ziva!"

Her expression softened as she looked up into his eyes, which were darting from object to object, not resting on anything in particular. They were oblivious to the tiny crowd that had formed around them and continued to grow.

"There is something else troubling you." She commented. How he thought that he could have possibly let something that big slip past Ziva, he didn't understand. Because there wasn't anyone who knew him better. She carefully placed a hand on his forearm, "You can tell me."

His expression immediately softened at her touch, and he looked down, almost guiltily before looking back up at her, "I…" he started, and she nodded as if to force him to continue, "Sometimes we make mistakes, and sometimes they're for bad. But then sometimes we make mistakes and they turn out to be good." He whispered, and Ziva furrowed her eyebrows together.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Ziva." He muttered before carefully prying her fingers off of his forearm and then placing the Y. Pestis file in it. He then walked away, feeling an empty hole in his heart.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony got into his car and drove to NCIS headquarters, his heart thumping in his ears. He was going to do it. It was the best decision. Vance had just given him a ticket out, and he was taking it. He jumped out of the car, grabbed the file, and nearly sprinted to the elevator before he could make his last final decision. As he entered the squadroom, he walked past it, his heart aching.

He would miss them.

McGee.

Little probie would be senior field agent, there wouldn't be anyone to stop him from going all the way to the top, there wouldn't be anyone that would pick on him, there wouldn't be anything at all. He would be free and happy.

Abby.

He could almost see her tears running down her face, and her bone-crushing hug engulfing him as she whined, 'Don't go, Tony! We need you!'. She'd understand. He'd write her everyday. He'd miss her laugh, her god awful music that blared way too loud, and the normal Caf-Pow trips.

Ducky.

He was pretty sure that, even though his stories were boring, he'd miss them. Intensely. And he'd miss the autopsies and the tea (that he detested), and even the times when he didn't have a bar date (which was almost never), when Ducky'd be there for him.

Gibbs.

Gibbs. He was the father he never had. He would be sorely disappointed when he found out Tony's decision, but he knew that he would understand that he took the promotion just to be team leader, as a new environment around him.

Ziva.

God, Ziva. He couldn't even bare to think about her. Her beautiful face, tears streaming down them, her forehead scrunched up as if trying not to cry as she whispered his name, 'Tony. Do not go.' but that was only a fantasy. She would get over him, in fact, he was pretty sure it would take only a mere 24 hours at most. She was a tough Mossad assassin, for crying out loud!

He stopped in front of the Director's door and confirmed his final decision. He started to talk to himself.

"Is that your final answer?" he asked in his best Regis impersonation.

"A. Team in San Diego. Final answer." he repeated before opening the door and stepping inside.

"Agent DiNozzo!" Vance greeted him with a smile as he closed the door behind him, "Have you made a decision about San Diego?"

"Yes, I have, Director Vance." He nodded, stopping in front of his desk.

"Well? Should I tell San Deigo to be expecting you?"

He took in a deep breath, "Yes. I accept the promotion."

Vance beamed, "Great!" He pulled out a form, and then handed him a pen, "Just sign there and hand in your badge and gun and I'll print you out your flight tickets." He turned to the computer as Tony signed the paper on the dotted line, his mind in a haze. He wasn't thinking. His heart was pounding in his ears as Director Vance took the papers away and then handed him his flight information.

"Badge and gun?" he questioned, and Tony nodded before removing them both from his belt buckle and carefully placing them on his desk, "You will be issued new ones in San Diego." He reiterated, and Tony nodded his head. Vance grinned, "Congratulations, Agent DiNozzo. Your flight leaves tomorrow," he extended his hand, "It was nice working with you, Agent DiNozzo. Congratulations."

THE END

MWHAHAHAHAHA! Don't worry though, there will be a sequel!