Hello! I hope you all are doing well. So… this is my first story (pleads to be nice!). Like many people, I'm so bummed over Cote's departure, so this was an idea I got to incorporate all the members of the team and bring them back together. This will most definitely stray into AU territory, particularly because I haven't had time to keep up with it. But this story takes place after Ziva is left in Israel.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Whispers from a Ghost

Today was the same as any other day.

That was the problem, wasn't it? It was the same as every other day and every other day was difficult to make it through. Because when he woke up, when he brought himself out of the consciousness of sleep, Tony had to remind himself that nothing had changed. Everything was just as it was the day before. If that didn't encourage someone to start drinking in the morning, he wasn't sure what would.

Instead of alcohol, he ran his fingers across the cardboard of his coffee cup, eyeing the barista behind that counter. Petite, blonde, pretty smile. The old Tony wouldn't have hesitated approaching her, putting on the Dinozzo charm until he left the coffee house with her number. But the idea of getting out of his seat and talking to her was painful.

It shouldn't be, though. It was her decision to stay. There was literally nothing he could've done to change that, but it didn't explain why he felt like he did something wrong. Well, he felt that way because everything was wrong and no matter what, he had a hand in it. That he couldn't forget.

Tony blinks. He'd been staring at the blonde the entire time and now she was giving him a gaze that said quite clearly that he wouldn't have to try very hard to get her number. His first impulse was to leave, but if he left at this exact moment, he would be on time for work. If he was on time for work, this day would continue to be the same as every day. He had a few minutes.

He would endure the wrath of Leroy Gethro Gibbs if it meant this day was different than every other day.

XXX

"Where's Dinozzo?"

McGee looks up from his desk, barely aware that Tony hadn't arrived yet. "Uh," He makes some noises to fill the awkward silence that Gibbs settled onto the bullpen, hoping that Tony would appear in the elevator as he stalled. "He must've – I mean he definitely – maybe had alarm trouble?"

Gibbs sets his coffee on his desk, but doesn't sit down. Instead, he slowly paces until he reaches McGee's desk, a smirk plastered on his face. Placing his hands on the desk and bending over, Gibbs says, "You've never been good at lying McGee."

McGee gulps. "No, boss, I haven't."

Gibbs leans closer. "Wanna tell me why you're lying about Dinozzo so early on a Monday morning?"

"Uh—"

"Sorry, McSquirmy, thanks for trying to take the fall for me." Tony says, placing his bag by his desk. "But I got it from here. I was late for a few reasons. 5'4", I'd say about a C-cup, wearing—" Gibbs' hand connects with the back of Tony's head. "Sorry boss."

"Glad you are returning to your old self, Tony." McGee grumbles, turning back to his computer.

Tony grunts, but doesn't continue. He could've been naming anyone. He didn't want just anyone anymore. He groans, earning a questioning glance from Gibbs, which he tries to ignore. Tony couldn't help it. The greats would be rolling in their grave with that cliché. 'Just anyone'? Who did he think he was, Gary Marshall?

"Got a dead Marine about twenty miles out." Gibbs snaps, slamming his phone on the receiver.

Tony stands up, preparing himself for the key-toss he expects, but Gibbs hesitates. With the slightest flick of the glaze, Gibbs looks from the keys to Tony. Tossing them to McGee, Gibbs says, "Arrive on time and then we'll talk."

XXX

"This is very peculiar."

Tony stares at Ducky. "Peculiar? For someone as verbose as you, I would think that you would choose a more fitting describing word."

Ducky peers up from his crouch. "Oh, I'm sorry Anthony. Would you like to choose the particular verbiage I use to describe the victims I examine?"

"How about creepy, unsettling, or just plain weird?"

"'Just plain weird', Anthony? That is what you used to replace my 'peculiar'? How dearly disappointed I am with the American education system." Ducky comments, returning to the dead body.

From across the room, you could barely understand what's going on, which is why it took the maid twenty minutes to realize she'd been cleaning the room with a dead body in it. Tony scowls as he watches McGee brush some of the salt in a bag.

"Don't take too much of that McGee. You'll leave King Tut here to rehydrate."

Placed carefully in a bathtub, the body sat in pounds of salt, severely dehydrating the skin. No matter how many dead bodies he's seen, Tony never enjoyed this part. There are so many ways to kill a person, and yet somehow people keep inventing new ones. Tony crouches and snaps a few photos, surveying the room. "New question for the day," Tony muses. "How does one sneak into an apartment with what I can only assume is a twenty pound bag of salt, without anyone noticing?"

Gibbs tightens his lips. "Got an answer for that question, Dinozzo."

Tony takes a few more pictures. Without thinking, he mutters, "Obviously I don't have the answer, otherwise I never would've asked it in the first place."

He hears McGee drop something on the floor. Even Ducky stops puttering around.

"Oh, boss," Tony breathes, his eyes widening. "I-I don't know where that came from, I was just existentially musing—"

"Do you have something you'd like to say to me, Dinozzo?" Gibbs asks, his voice lowering.

"No!" Tony snaps. "Of course not, boss. Obviously if I was going to say something, if I wanted to say something, it would be a something that sounded something like—"

"Shut up, Dinozzo."

"Yes boss."

But when he moved to leave, he felt Gibbs' grip on his bicep, leading him through the house.

When they reached outside, Gibbs turns to Tony. "Do we have a problem still, Dinozzo?"

Tony tried to laugh as carelessly as possible. "Problem? With me? Obviously not, boss. I am a solid rock. If I was a rock, I'd be… well, I'd be one of those that I don't know the name of, but I'm pretty sure that McGeek would."

Gibbs gives Tony a sharp look.

"Boss, seriously. I'm sleeping, I'm watching movies again, I'm dating…" Tony winces. "Well, that dating thing isn't true. Neither is the movies. Neither is the sleeping."

"Dinozzo…"

"I know, I know. 0/3 is not a good record."

"Dinozzo, are we going to have a problem?"

Tony doesn't answer right away this time. He actually wonders this question all the time. "I don't think so boss. It'll get better, right?"

Gibbs stares at Tony. As soft as Gibbs can get, he asks, "Do you want it to?"

XXX

"I will eat one of you if I'm not allowed on my lunch starting now." Tony grumbles, throwing his bag at the side of his desk.

"Considering it's after five, it's dinner now." McGee says, although there's an edge in his voice that usually isn't present. Listening to Tony complain about food didn't help him take his mind off of his own hunger.

"What happened? We used to have food in the back of the car all the time and lately it's been very absent." Tony groans. "Who do I have to do around here to get that to be restocked."

"Ziva."

Tony stands upright at the mention of her name, particularly keen to it when it comes from Gibbs. Gibbs slams a sandwich on Tony's desk, moving to his own. "Ziva was the one who put the food in the back of the car." Gibbs says, not maintaining eye contact with Tony or McGee. "She went to Costco on the weekends and filled it up every Monday."

Tony sits at his desk, unable to formulate a response. Instead he turned his attention to something on his desk.

"What do you got there, Dinozzo?"

"A package." He mutters, not lifting it from his desk.

"Need I remind you what happen last time you opened a mysterious package."

Tony pokes it. "Not an anecdote I'd easily forget."

Gibbs and McGee come over, peering at the package. "What language is this?" McGee asks, pointing at the base.

Tony spins it around and freezes.

Today will not be like every other day.

When he doesn't answer, Gibbs closes his eyes. "Hebrew, McGee. That is Hebrew." He looks at Tony, afraid of the expression he'll see. "This package is from Israel."

Author's Note: What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!