A/N: Okay, so less than 24 hours till the season finale -I am seriously on the edge of my seat with this one! But, not to totally backtrack, this is the first installment of the previously mention trifecta-type thing I am in the process of compiling that centers around Dead Reflection, Tell All, Two Faced, and, quite possibly, Swan Song. It's my way of dealing with the whole Ray/EJ thing -and parts that were seriously lacking in the aforementioned episodes. In an ideal world, I would post the final chapter to this tomorrow -however, the astute of you have already noticed that there will be three chapters and less than 24 hours in which to post (assuming I decide to keep my preset deadline). So, that just means that I will ATTEMPT to have everything up by 8:00pm tomorrow -most likely though, and I risk having at least one chapter debunked plot-wise, this thing will be done by Friday . . . . Anyway, I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts, much love and keep the peace, Kit!

DISCLAIMER: If I owned NCIS . . . . That would be sweet!

"LETTING GO"

"You are an idiot."

The accusation is unprovoked and, while perhaps true, in this instance, utterly uncalled for. He pauses at the driver's side door to his car, glancing over the roof of the adjacent Honda to take in the familiar source the allegation was issued from.

He doesn't concede nor deny the charge, merely offers a vague and all-encompassing, "Okay," that could terminate as a statement or as a question. His voice is weary and heavy with something that isn't quite identifiable, but it holds the connotation of something unpleasant. . . .

It sounds like surrender.

McGee doesn't waste time trying to decipher DiNozzo's extensive emotional register as he comes to stand on the other side of the car; instead he forges on, reiterating his previous testimony emphatically , "You. Are. An. Idiot." And now, finally, under the yellowish glow of the streetlights, Tim can see a reaction stir in the older man, can see the hackles rising to defend against the fact that the younger man sounds totally and utterly pissed.

"McG-" but there's no diffusing this discussion if the expression on McGee's face is anything to go by, his features all hard with determination and mouth pressed into a grim line; he's already speaking again, interrupting whatever DiNozzo was going to say, voice echoing in the quiet Navy Yard.

"You're just gonna let her go, just like that?" he demands angrily, "After everything you've been through? You're just gonna give up?" And it takes Tony a few beats to get that McGee is mad about . . . . Ziva.

"Tim, I-"

"You what? You couldn't get your crap together and now you're through? What, DiNozzo?"

"What do you want me to do, McGee? Pull some big romantic gesture? Newsflash: It doesn't work like that." And he sounds remorseful about this reality.

"Tony, this isn't a movie-" and McGee deflates slightly, going from mad to exasperated in the time it takes Gibbs to go from zero to sixty when driving.

"I know that," Tony concedes, voice softening with a small, depreciative smile. "And that's why I'm letting her go."

McGee remains, if not more so, utterly confused. "Even aft-"

Everything? "Yeah."

"You went to freaking Africa, Tony, without any guarantee you'd come back with anything." Without any guarantee you'd come back at all.

"I know –I was there. . . . Why are you so concerned about me and Ziva?"

McGee stays quiet, choosing his words carefully, and, after several heartbeats, "Because I've sat in that desk, watching you two for the past five years. I've seen you two together and apart and I know you know what I'm talking about, DiNozzo."

"I do," he agrees quietly.

McGee allows silence to pervade the space around them as he studies Tony. He seems older, somehow, and maybe it's experience, maybe it's just age, but the difference is profound. This isn't the same DiNozzo of infamous one-night stands and immunity to the harshening effect of reality. This is a man who's aware, acutely and painfully, of the sum of everything. Because while McGee's been watching the drama unfold between Tony and Ziva for the better half of his tenure at NCIS, the two belligerents have been living it. The sexual tension, the worry, the unwavering sense of loyalty were all secondhand information to outside perception; Tony and Ziva, though, they were right there at the epicenter. . . . And after all that, after the dust clears and wounds heal and bridges are repaired, McGee finds it hard to believe that DiNozzo is seriously waving a white flag.

"Then why-"

"Because," and Tony sounds like a man who's found the Rosetta stone that unlocks all of mankind's mysteries. "Because she's happy, Tim," he says, as if it's obvious, "Ray takes good care of her and she's happy. If I go and open my big mouth all that will do is hurt her. And I don't want to do that, not again." His voice tapers off toward the end, the final admission finishing in an almost whisper.

McGee just stands there staring with his mouth slightly agape. "But you loved her."

And in his mind, romance stories are supposed to end happily ever after. In his mind, right now, Timothy McGee is thinking like a writer and not like an agent that faces the glaring truth of reality daily.

"I still love her, McSparks," and Tony smiles, "But I love her enough to let her go."

"I can't decide if you're brilliant or stupid." Or brave.

"Probably the latter." Definitely.

"Probably."

If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it was meant to be.

A/N2: For reference, mamihlapinatapai is a word from the Yaghan language spoken on Tierra del Fuego (an archipelago off the southernmost tip of South America) that translates loosely into, "a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but neither wants to initiate." Check Wikipedia (or another reliable Internet source) if you don't believe me -I promise it's a word! :^)