"Looking for this, Jethro?" Ari grinned as the man spun around, his eyes widening. "I want you to know, I wish I hadn't had to shoot Caitlin." Gibbs fought to keep hiw tone steady and even.

"Why did you?"

"To cause you pain" Ari smiled, and Gibbs returned the parry.

"I piss you off that much?"

"Not you, my father. You have the misfortune of reminding me of the bastard." It made Ari smile to think of when he'd perform this act again, only then it would be the real thing, not just displaced emotion.

"Ah. He didn't marry your mother."

"That's what makes me a bastard, not him. From the moment of my birth, he groomed me to be one thing. His mole in Hamas. Sent me to Edinburgh to become a doctor, so I could work in the Gaza camps alongside my mother. When he had her killed, I had no trouble joining Qassam."

"You don't really believe your father had your mother killed?"

"It was a retaliatory Israeli strike. One day I was in Tel Aviv, visiting him. After decades of planning, he had his mole in Hamas. He never knew how much I hated him. I wish I could see his face when he realizes, he created not a mole, but a monster. You get to strike at the heart of Mossad. And Israel."

"Yeah, I almost feel sorry for you." Gibbs forced a smile.

"And I for you." Ari ran his hand along a smooth beam, wondering at the enigma that was the man whose life he held in his hands. "When Ziva told me that you were placing flowers on the roof where Caitlin died, I couldn't believe it. Such a romantic touch. Almost too good to pass up. Almost." Ari spoke calmly and confidently, his lips curling up into an ironic smile.

"Why did you?" Gibbs asked.

"I need you to commit suicide with your own rifle. You never did give me enough credit in our game. I knew it was a trap before Ziva told me you asked her to cover you. You'd never trust Ziva. And you need to kill me. Taste the sweetness of revenge." Ari raised the rifle, lining up the sight. Gibbs simply raised his hand and looked away.

"I've killed enough men in my life, Ari. It's going to be just as sweet watching you die." Gibbs sat down against the stairs, a slight smile on his face. He knew that he was going to come out on top with this. His one downfall that he was too cocky, all arrogance and bravado, and it never seemed to occur to him that betrayal was an option. Even in the face of death, he was so certain.

"Sorry to spoil your plan Gibbs," he whispered, as he fired right between Gibbs' eyes. There was a flash of shock on his face before his head jerked back, blood spattering along the wall. His body slid the ground, and Ari smiled. Mission accomplished. Ziva stepped down the stairs quietly, slipping past the body. She looked up at Ari for a moment, and then stared down at Gibbs. She almost felt bad that she had betrayed his trust, almost.

"Good job, Ziva." He said to her in Hebrew. "I never doubted your alliance with me." He smiled ironically, but his expression died as he watched Ziva stare down at the agent's lifeless, rapidly cooling corpse. She quickly knelt down to close his eyes, one by one with a single finger, before hurriedly returning to her feet.

"You liked him. It is not like you to feel remorse for the victim." She simply shook her head. "I must admit that I was taken with him as well. A very complicated man. But there was some thing underlying that, a gaping simplicity. A common mistake, he made. I might even have made the same mistake, had I been in his position." He looked over at Ziva again, and smiled. "Then again, maybe not." Ziva tore her eyes from Gibbs' corpse, for the first time in her life regretting a kill. She knew that it was bound to happen at some point, but she had just met the man, he meant nothing. Or he should have meant nothing. She forcefully ran her hand up the side of a beam, almost smiling at the irony. An unfinished life ended next its own unfinished boat. Ari put his hand on her shoulder, but she was never one for excessive physical contact.

"It's over Ziva. Nothing to worry about. I already have one of Qassam's men set up as a distraction. We fly out to Paris tomorrow." Ziva continued to run her hand up the side of the boat, idly wondering what kind of man would take the time and energy to build a boat in their basement. A man with an obsession, she decided. Or maybe a man who had lost something. A man with nothing left to lose. Ari was behind her again, she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. She actually leaned into his touch, as uncharacteristic as it was. Ari smiled to himself and kissed her neck, slowly moving over the tanned skin. She shuddered under his touch, but didn't pull away. He pulled her closer, and she let him, not wanting to let go. His lips found hers, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. Ziva knew that it was wrong on several levels, ranging everywhere from the fact that the two shared the same father, to the cooling corpse on the floor. But, for once, she ignored her common sense and took the easy route. She figured that her morals were decaying anyway, why not expedite the process. Ari lowered her to the floor and lay beside her, clutching her body to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and found herself wondering why she hadn't done this years ago.

I obviously don't own this, you all know the drill. I borrowed a great deal of the dialogue, so shoot me, if you must.