A/N: This is a story about Tony and Ziva and a kidnapping case, set after Season 7. It involves Ziva's best friend, Hannah, whom we will learn more about as the story progresses. This is only my second NCIS story, and I am very new to fan-fiction, so advice is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Rated T: for minor cuss words and later suggestive behavior.


Anthony DiNozzo had not always been quite as serious as he is now.

He pondered this, coffee cup in hand, staring up at the wide blue sky that protected the space above the NCIS government building. He supposed this was Ziva's fault. Mainly because she was Ziva and his partner, and that gave him the right to blame everything he wanted on her, but also because she was different than anyone he had ever met before, even Kate. Because Kate had been easy—practical jokes and long arguments and something like siblings. But Ziva was too much like him to be safe, full of dangerous smiles, and flirting and fighting.

They had been through a lot together, and he thinks that it must have been this that caused this change in him. He thinks he must have grown up some, though he would never ever admit this, even under the possibility of torture and other such dangerous convincing techniques. They were closer now too, resulting in an angrier Gibbs and crossed boundaries and blurred lines. He didn't mind much.

But they hadn't been like this since Gibbs left for Mexico, and it scared Tony a little. Because there was always something to end it—Gibbs again, or French men's daughters, or Mossad partners with terrorist tendencies or CIA operatives with lovey expressions and empty jewelry boxes and even emptier promises. He thinks of EJ and more of his own problems, but he is focusing on her now, so he ignores the voice in his head.

"You have that look on your face." Ziva says from beside him, interrupting his thoughts, and studying him intensely over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What look?" Tony stares suspiciously at her, because he is the master of insults and other entertaining forms of trickery, and he knows when she is up to something.

"I am not quite sure, I do not see it often, but I think…..you might be thinking about something." She grins, in that cheesy way that said she had gotten the best of him, and makes him want to grin too.

He does. "So cruel, Sweetcheeks. But I don't need to think much—I'm all action. Like James Bond or Indiana Jones."

Ziva just rolls her eyes in a way that tells him she didn't know how to respond to him, because he is Anthony DiNozzo and she is not quick enough in comebacks to rival him, and so he is proud of this.

"We should go back inside." She says. "Gibbs has not shown up yet."

"Gibbs comes and goes as he pleases, Zee-vah, he's like that really annoying cat who does whatever it wants, and bites whoever tries to argue with it. I had one of those as a child; his name was Charlie."

Ziva looks confused by his rant. "So?"

"So, we should not plan our lives around the fearless master." Tony grins again, because it is sunny out, and nearly May, and they do not have a case.

Ziva rolls her eyes again. "We have a case."

It's amazing how quickly she can annoy him. "How do you know? Are you some super-psychic now too? Stupid Mossad." But he gets a sudden idea. "Maybe you are speaking telepathically with Gibbs right now. That would be a cool superpower, like cooler than Batman. We need to come up with a cool name for you."

Ziva stares.

"I'll work on that." Tony promises her, and tosses his now-empty coffee cup in the general direction of the nearest trashcan. He is not surprised when it goes in. But he still pumps his fist into the air like a child, and proceeds to drag Ziva by the wrist behind him, all the way inside, ignoring threats of death, and doom and despair.

He is used to her by now. And so he doesn't mind.


They attempt to sneak into the bullpen as if they had been there the whole time—well, Tony tries to sneak in, but Ziva is not very afraid of Gibbs so she walks calmly. But Gibbs sends them both a glare—he sends Tony two, which he doesn't understand since he was the one attempting to be sneaky. And some days he wishes he had the training of a certain Israeli assassin, since she obviously has mind powers and is currently in control of Gibbs, and possibly planning to take over the world. And then he is trying not to dwell on how great of a movie that would be, and so he doesn't hear when Gibbs yells at him.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barks, for possibly the third of fourth time, since Tony is having a hard time tearing his thoughts away from Ziva in one of those sexy leather outfits they always put the lead in these days.

Tony shoots out of his chair. "Yes, Boss. Ready to go."

"Gas the truck." Gibbs orders, sending him another glare, and throwing the keys. Tony catches them on one finger and swings them around, sending a wink to Ziva. Then he remembers Gibbs.

Tony ignores McGee's snort and flees.

By the time they are in the truck, and Ziva is a safe distance away from the driver's seat does he remember they have a case, and possibly a dead body, and he doesn't know what's going on.

"What's up with this one?" Tony asks McGee.

"Missing girl held hostage by a serial killer. They found her, but now her dad is missing."

"So why does NCIS care?"

"The dad is Navy."

"Do we have any leads on the serial killer?" Ziva asks from the backseat.

"No."

"Then where are we going?" Tony turns to send a questioning glance at McGee. "You should speak up before I get lost, McProbie."

McGee sends him an annoyed glance, rolls his eyes once, and turns the map upside down to squint at it, in a way that makes Tony nervous. He is currently unsure as to why anyone would give the Probie the map, because obviously: if it is not electronic then McGee will not know what to do with it.

So Tony rips it from the Probie's hands and tosses it back to Ziva, because although she is the technically the junior probationary agent, McGee will always be the Probie, because Tim is not hardened like the rest of them.

Sometimes Tony regrets that. But there are other things to worry about now, and so he doesn't tease Tim anymore as he listens to Ziva's surprising accurate directions, because he remembers a time when she told him to turn right at a cactus. And such spiny type things are not meant to be directional beakers.

When they get to the crime scene, Gibbs is already there and angry, barking at local LEO's who won't let him past the yellow tape that surrounds a normal looking white house. Green shutters, a very cliché white picket fence, and a small beagle make the home appear to be the American dream. And so Tony watches Ziva out of the corner of his eye when they approach the scene, because this is what she wants.

And so he wants it too.

The argument between Gibbs and the small man with the balding gray hair (which makes Tony smooth his hair down slightly self-consciously) doesn't last long, and he is turning to them quickly, holding up the crime scene tape to let them pass. "Ziva, photos. McGee, sketch the scene. Tony, go talk to the girl." Gibbs says, turning back to the man he was talking to before—a tall man in a Navy uniform.

Tony doesn't know who the girl is, or why he is being sent, but he is Gibbs and so his orders must be followed, and so Tony swings his backpack over his left shoulder, teasingly salutes the bald LEO merely to annoy him, and jogs up the steps into the house.

There are cops swarming around inside, and Baltimore PD has a medical examiner wandering around looking confused because there is no body here, and they have not seemed to realize this yet. The Chief of Police spots him and heads in his direction, but Tony has ninja in his blood, and he ducks behind two male officers and slips upstairs.

There are three doorways at the top of the steps, and Tony the right one, giving himself a mental pat on the back when he finds it is correct. He opens the door open slowly to find a small blonde girl sitting on a bed having her arm bandaged by an even blonder nurse. Tony flashes his charming grin when she looks up, but he is too tired to mean it, because he doesn't know why a serial killer would abduct a fourteen year old girl, and Ziva is outside. But he is still pleased when she flushes in response.

And there is another woman behind them both, dark brown hair tossed over her tan shoulders, staring covertly out the window in a way that Ziva would have done. She's wearing a brown tank top and tight jeans and her stomach is rounded with child.

It takes Tony a second to realize he knows her. "Hannah?" Tony manages to ask, hiding his surprise the best he can. "What the hell are you doing here?"


The woman, who he is sure is Hannah now, turns from the window and takes a hesitant step towards him. "Tony?" She asks, her Israeli accent thick in a way that he hasn't heard in a while, because he doesn't like Ziva's home country, because it is full of angry fathers and deserts that stretch on forever.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asks her again, staring intensely at the nurse and holding the door open until she understands his meaning and slides quickly from the room. Tony takes a moment to send an apologetic glance to the girl on the bed before staring at Hannah again.

She is skinnier than she was in in Israel all those years ago, and her hair is longer, falling about halfway down her back in gentle waves. And Hannah crosses the room in three easy steps and hugs him tightly.

"I'm so glad to see you. I need your help."


"This is Clarissa." Hannah tells him, gesturing to the girl sitting quietly on the bed. Hannah studies her closely for a moment and so Tony shifts her gaze to the girl.

Clarissa is blonde and pretty, something he didn't expect when he imagined the teenager, and she has watery blue eyes stretched wide in fright. The bandages the nurse had been wrapping are tight around thin wrists, and a small scar stretches across her left cheek. Clarissa returns his gaze without blinking, and he realizes he likes her.

"What's wrong Hannah? Does Ziva know that you are in DC? She doesn't like surprises, you know."

"No." She moves back to the window. "But we need to move, now."

"Well, princess. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on."

Hannah nods briefly, understanding, and walks over to the closet. She throws clothes at Clarissa, tells Tony to turn around as she changes, and then starts explaining. "This is Clarissa Hyland. She was kidnapped by the serial killer Demetrius. I assume you've heard of him?" Hannah continues at Tony's nod.

"She was held hostage for five days, drugged, and can't remember a thing. I've been tracking this guy all year."

"Eli still giving orders?" Tony asks, taking the folder she hands him.

"Yeah."

He scans the pages quickly, noticing the blacked out lines and torn out pages. 'Demetrius', approximately thirty-two years old, previous member of CIA program: 'Arrow'. Dismissed from program in 2010 due to unauthorized violent behavior. Suspected in the murders of Jo Bella and Ashton James. Location: Unknown.

"What does this have to do with her?" Tony pointed to Clarissa, who was now clad in jeans and a large red hoodie, her long blonde hair stuffed under a baseball cap.

"I'll explain later. What you need to know is, that this man's face has never been seen before. Because I found the warehouse where she was being held, and Jonathon Adamson's car was parked inside."

"The Chief of Police?" Tony moves closer to the window to stare at the yard below, where he can see Adamson and Gibbs talking. He wonders where Ziva is.

"What if he was undercover?"

"Not likely. He's got an Internal Affairs after him right now, and get this: he has a brother that was terminated from a top-secret CIA program and was marked for death. He went missing last week."

"So?"

Hannah pulls a backpack from under the bed, and pulls out a nine-mil and starts loading it. He thinks he has been in the business to long because he doesn't even bother to be surprised. Hannah slides it into the back of her jeans. "So, he has motive."

"I don't see any motive."

"Clarissa is the only one who has seen the serial killer."

"I'm staring at Adamson right now."

"No. It's bigger than him."

"I hate serial killers." Tony groans. "So wrong in the head. Ruining my entire day." He mutters, and then stares at Hannah. "I hope you know that I'm not letting you run out of here guns blazing."

"And why not?" She raises herself to her full height, and every line of her is the same warrior that Ziva is.

"First of all, that is very James Bond of you. Second: I can get you out of here safely. Third: you're pregnant. Fourth….actually that's it."

Hannah rolls her eyes, but still pulls down the hem of her brown tank-top self-consciously. "I'm fine Tony."

"You're gonna have to do better than that. Besides, I think Ziva has patented that line."

"I do not understand what that means."

And Tony smiles a little because he forgets that English isn't her first language, because Hannah has magically mastered the concept of American contractions, while Ziva is still so inept. But she is still Israeli and English is not her first language. Probably not her second or third either, because he knows how these Israeli assassins work.

"Never mind. Turn around."

She stares at him suspiciously. "Why?"

Tony pulls his handcuffs off his belt and dangles them in the air. "You obviously got crazy, tried to beat me up and escape when I used my brilliant use of deduction to discover you are obviously guilty of kidnapping Clarissa." He nods to her, still seated on the bed in her disguised clothes. "And you won't need the hat. We're getting out clean." Tony tells Clarissa.

Hannah nods and so does Clarissa, understanding the plan, and Hannah turns her back slowly to allow him to cuff her. Tony has one cuff on when he realizes that they need more to sell their story, and he doesn't close the links. He rotates her with his hand on her shoulders.

"Never mind. Hannah. I need you to hit me across the face."

Hannah is shaking her head before he even finishes talking, and she backs up a half step, keeping her eyes on him. "No, Tony. I don't want to hurt you."

"It will sell the story. I just need you to make my face a little bruised. You're only a wounded female after all." He grins at her. "No special training, no ninja skills. Remember?"
She sighs, still uncertain, but steps forward and swings before he can brace himself (or chicken out). Or maybe, before she can change her mind. Either way, he ends up with a swollen left cheek, a bruise leaving a burning sensation beneath his skin.

Hannah has obviously not lost her training in the months spent away from Mossad. Clarissa looks surprised by this fact too, in fact, she has moved in front of Tony and is touching his cheek with gentle fingers, eyes bright beneath her cap. "Holy shit, Hannah. You're lucky you didn't break anything."

And Tony finds it ironic that the first words he hears the small blonde say are cuss words.


Tony is bleeding now, and Hannah is cuffed, and Clarissa is hidden behind him. And he wants Ziva, because Hannah is shaking in her bonds, and Tony is guilty that he has her trapped, because he is afraid of what has been done to her in handcuffs like these. Ziva would be able to calm her down, but she is outside and interrogating people, and they need to make it past the cops first, and past the serial killer's accomplice. But no one ever said this would be easy.

They are halfway outside, down the steps and through the living room where Clarissa turns sharply away because they are photographing blood splatter, when they are stopped: a hand on Tony's shoulder he doesn't like, and is thrown off quickly. And Tony turns around and recognizes Adamson.

"Agent. Where are you taking the witness?" Adamson asks, narrowing his eyes as if this will allow him to see through Tony's bullshit.

Tony finds this unlikely. "To NCIS." And he is trying to pretend to be polite, but he can't manage to call the man "sir", because he helped in the kidnapping of a fourteen year old girl. So instead, he points to his bleeding face and grins a little. "This is a wild one. You outta see her fight. She attacked me and tried to flee."

Adamson stares for a second, and Tony supposes he can't find anything wrong with his story, because after all, where else is a talented federal agent like himself going to get a black eye? "Alright, Agent." But he turns around behind him, and gestures to a nerdy looking cop with red hair and a notepad. "Cooper. Take the girl's statement. We're taking her back to the station."

Clarissa grasps a chunk of his jacket in her fists and steps closer to him, and it makes Tony stand up straighter. "I'm afraid I can't let you take her either Chief. Because of her father missing, she needs to stay in protective custody. I'm taking the both of them to NCIS. If there's a problem with that, you can talk to my boss." Tony turns around before the Chief can argue anymore. He is halfway out the door when he turns back around, staring over Clarissa's head to meet eyes with him.

"His name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and I wouldn't piss him off if I were you."


Your thoughts are appreciated! Thanks for reading.