A/N - This story is AU, but with some real events thrown into it. It adds a character and tells us a story about Ziva leaving and Tony's struggles finding her and bringing her home, all through the eyes of this new character.

Zayit.

That was all that the message said. That was all that I had received from her. It was the first word that I had heard from my older sister in nine years. My jaw hung open and I nearly dropped my phone. I gasped for air and I looked around.

I was in a bar. It was not the first time I had been in a bar by any means; actually I was rather experienced with bars. I was only twenty-one. Soon to be twenty-two, I reminded myself. But, I was very experienced with bars, because my life had demanded that I was. My life had not been easy, but I didn't like to talk about that or even think about that.

The code word "zayit" was ours. We had created it when we were children. It had a great meeting and I had nearly forgotten about it, even though we had hopelessly promised ourselves that we would always hang onto that word in case one or the other of us was in trouble in someway and we would need to find each other.

I was five when we created this code word, she was fourteen. We were close, for siblings that were so far apart in age. She had taken care of me for a long time. She had even tried to take care of me after leaving, even though it was impossible. She couldn't stop our father from having his way and controlling me the way he had controlled her. It was devastating, but I knew that it wasn't her fault.

I looked around the bar and left some money on the countertop and exited. I hailed a cab, using Arabic, as I was in Morocco. How was I supposed to get back? I had to find a way. I also had to reply to the word so she knew it was me and that I had gotten it. I would find a way.

I rode in the cab until we got to the harbor, paid the driver and found a small boat for hire. I did just that and used cash. Cash was untraceable and that seemed to be important at the moment. I had finally freed myself and why I was in Morocco, I didn't know. That was just where I ended up while wandering around the Middle East and Africa.

I rode silently in the boat until we finally reached the location I was looking for and I made my way in a junk car (bought with cash and no paperwork). You've gotta love the Middle East, sometimes, I thought as I drove through the night toward my final destination. As I drove I typed back the one word that needed to be sent.

L'olam.

That word was also chosen by us when we were that age. It meant forever. It also meant that I had only fifteen minutes to arrive at the designated spot where we would meet. We had picked our spot at a young age as well and it was one that we knew well, but wasn't well known to others.

I arrived just in time. I didn't see her, so I stood in a shadowed area where I could see someone coming from all sides. I had my side-arm drawn and a hand on my knife, hoping that it was her footsteps that I heard coming up the way.

We were in the olive orchard that our grandparents had kept as children. Most of the trees were still living, despite the fact that they hadn't been tended to over the years. I saw her before she saw me. I didn't move. I didn't want to alarm her. A fight wasn't something that we should want now. It was something that we should avoid at all costs.

When she finally saw me she looked around and ran over and hugged me.

"Ziva," I said, looking at her with my eyes wide.

There was a bruise on her cheek as though she had been in some kind of struggle. I frowned. But, I was sure I didn't look much better. Despite the fact that I told myself I didn't know how I ended up in Morocco, I was honestly running. I was running from something that had been following me for a while and I didn't know what it was or how it had found out about me, since I had been living off the grid for nearly four years.

I held Ziva tightly and she squeezed me. We both cried and rejoiced since we had not seen each other in nine long years.

"It's good to see you again," she said as she pulled back from the hug. "Let us get out of here so we can talk more privately."

I nodded and allowed her to lead the way to wherever she was staying now. She took in my appearance as we walked. I had looked in a mirror before leaving Morocco. I was fit, lean, muscular, but well-shaped, just like my sister. I was shorter than she was by quite a few inches, but just as dangerous (perhaps moreso since my height was constantly causing me to be under-estimated by opponents). I had huge bags under my eyes and I was sure I looked as exhausted as she did at least.

We found the abandoned barn that was nearly impossible to get into, since it was collapsed on itself.

"Ariela! You remembered!" she said. "You remembered our small code!"

She was smiling and there were tears in her eyes. "Of course I remembered, Ziva," I said quietly. "How could I forget? Was it not there for a reason?"

"Oh, it was. You were just so young and we have not used it in a long while," Ziva said quietly. "You have not grown much since last I saw you. Where were you?"

"I cannot tell you that, Zi," I said quietly, closing my eyes. "I have been forced to run, aside from my time off the grid. I am glad to know you got the number I left you. It is an old cellular phone that is not able to be followed. Disposable, perhaps the word is."

"Burn phone," Ziva said with a slight chuckle. "Now I know how he feels…."

Ziva told me all about her partner at NCIS, Tony DiNozzo and what he was like and how he corrected her incorrect American idioms all the time, and that he annoyed her so much and yet she still loved him.

"Who have you been running from Ariela?" Ziva asked.

"Please, call me Aria," I said quietly. "I do not like to be a lioness of God. I do not feel very Devine." She laughed and nodded before I continued. "I do not know who is on my tail, but I would assume it is someone that can link us together since you are also apparently in hiding."

"Yes, that seems right," Ziva said. "I need a favor, really."

"Anything, Zi," I said quietly.

"I need you to go to this address with this key and tell Tony something. Tell him this exactly "she says: Anthony Daniel DiNozzo, Sophie says she is fine and she misses Jon Paul very much. She wishes to see him again once the problems have been solved.

"Then, I need you to give him this note. You will also have to remain in DC. There are people there that you can trust. Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Vance, and Tony. You can trust them. They will take care of you if you need it for a while. Tell them that I said hello, just do not use my name if you can avoid it unless you are at NCIS headquarters alone with them and no one else around."

"What kind of trouble have you found, Zi?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," she said shaking her head. "But it's persistent."

"What does persistent mean?" I asked her.

"They keep going and refuse to stop. Constant," she said, defining the word for me. It had been a long time since I had used English.

"Here is some of Abba's cash. Hire a private plane to this small airport in Virginia. You should have enough money to take the bus to DC and find him. He is near this bus stop."

She had gone out of her way to get me a map. She was desperate to get this message out and I could see that. I took the paper from her and smiled lightly through the tears that were pooling in my eyes.

"When will I see you again, Zi? And do they know about me?"

"They will know about you when you show up," Ziva said with a shrug and a sigh. "And, I don't know. Happy early birthday to you, little sister."

"Happy early birthday to you too, big sister," I said back to her, pulling her into a hug again and taking off before anymore words could be exchanged and anymore emotions were provided to make my stay longer, otherwise I would see her tomorrow, the day before our birthday, and that wasn't the way I would say goodbye to my sister.

I hated flying, but the private plane was not so bad. I bought a junk car right outside of the small airport and I found a small motel to stay in for the night. I slept about three hours with everything reeling in my mind. I had to find a man that I did not know and convince him that I was trustworthy when he knew nothing about me. This was not going to end well, I didn't think. But, I trusted Ziva and knew that she wouldn't send me on something impossible.

I woke early the next morning, around four o'clock, went for a short run around the motel and got out of there, heading north for Washington, DC. It was a three hour drive, getting me there at noon that Tuesday. I found the apartment easily enough and let myself into it. I looked around. There was absolutely nothing for me to do. I found his bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked better. The circles under my eyes were nearly gone and I looked healthier. Perhaps it was the States that did it to me, because three hours of sleep had never done that to me before. I sighed and washed my face. I waited in his living room, hoping that his workday would end soon. I knew I had to wait. It was the only thing to do.

I was waiting to send one word to her. One word that we had created only two days ago, so that she would know that I had arrived and delivered her message and taken refuge with the employees of NCIS. I sighed as the clock ticked onward. It was a little after five. It was hard to believe that it was already after five and I had been sitting here for over five hours.

Then the lock turned in the door and I drew out my gun. I pointed it straight at the door, holding it above my head level, aiming for whoever's head came through the door. I could not be taken off-guard, even though Ziva had told me that America was safer than Israel was. I waited for that door to open. The handle turned and my heart was pounding, but everything else about me was coiled and ready to spring if the wrong person stepped through that door.

The door creaked and pushed open.