"Hey, hot stuff." An unnaturally gruff voice called to Ziva from behind her computer. Sure enough, when she looked up from her screen, a smirking Tony met her eyes.

Ziva snorted, getting out of her chair and walking out of her cubicle. "That was scarring Tony," she said, shaking her head in laughter. "If I need to get therapy for that, I'll sue you." She walked to the far wall of the office, starting up a new pot at the coffee station.

Tony leaned back against her desk, practically purring. "Feisty. I like that."

McGee sighed from his seat across from Ziva's desk, lines of exhaustion carved into his face. "Tony, this morning has done terrible things to me." He said, spinning his chair around to face Tony with unfocused eyes. "Don't add 'witness to verbal harassment' to the list."

"What Probie?" asked Tony in an innocent voice. "I'm just showing my love for her. Nothing wrong with that."

McGee sighed again, rubbing his temples before speaking. "Continual unwanted catcalls count. Seriously man, why did NCIS recruit you?"

"Give it up," said Ziva, handing McGee a cup of coffee. "He's a lost cause."

The aforementioned lost cause perked up at the sight of Ziva, sliding off her desk and walking towards her with a massive grin plastered on his face. "Aw, Ziva honey, is that coffee for me?" Tony reached towards her, trying to grab the remaining cup in her hand.

"Hell no," She spun around him, sliding smoothly into her chair with the drink held safely in her grasp.

Tony stared pleadingly at Ziva with his puppy eyes for several seconds before realizing that it was a futile effort. Instead, he walked up to her desk as casually as he could, snatching an old flip phone from on top of a stack of papers before prancing away in joy. "I have your phone now! You have to make me coffee."

"Uh Ziva," started McGee when the other agent ignored Tony. "Shouldn't you get your phone back? You don't know what Tony might do with it…"

Ziva shrugged, putting down her coffee without drinking it and resuming her work. "That one is linked to my old number, so there's nothing he'd want on it. The worst Tony could do is spam photos of his pants."

"Or he could take your calls for you."

Ziva's head snapped up at McGee's words, eyes hurriedly searching for the idiot who had stolen her phone. Tony sat reclining at his desk without a care in the world, speaking lazily to whoever he had just put on speakerphone. "Hello, this is the cellular device of Ms. Ziva David, how may she help?"

"Tony!" Ziva hissed, springing out of her chair and running to his cubicle. "Give it back!" she whispered desperately, holding her hand out in front of her. It was her old number, yes, but what she had failed to mention to McGee was that only four people knew that number. They were the only trustworthy people she had met during her time with Mossad – the people she would risk her life for. But three of them were already dead. The fourth, although alive, was just as unlikely to contact her as the others as he had a stubborn streak that went above and beyond. The fact that he had reached out to her meant that something extremely, extremely bad had happened to him.

Tony, not understanding her panic, only held out her phone farther out of her grasp, raising the phone volume as the man spoke. "Excuse me, but I must talk to Ziva. Could you please hand her the phone?" the man spoke in a low, decidedly British voice, his prominent accent distracting Tony enough to allow Ziva to reach over and pluck her phone out of his grasp. She turned off the speakerphone, walking away from their cubicles and towards the windows as she spoke. "Yes, hi Alex, I'm here." She rushed her words out in one breath, her free hand pulling through her hair in her unrest.

"Ziva? That you?"

Ziva sighed in relief, glad that nothing had happened to him while she was arguing with Tony. "Yes, it's me. What's wrong Alex, why'd you call?"

A soft chuckle sounded from the other end of the line, instantly making her relax. "Why? Am I not allowed to call my favourite ex-Mossad agent from time to time? You were the one who told me to treat you like family." He joked, poking fun at her harried tone.

She laughed quietly in response. She hoped that he was cracking jokes in because he was well enough to, not in order calm her down for what he would say next. But of course, she hoped wrong. Before she could reply, a wheezing cough sounded from Alex's side along with the sound of several bullets being fired. Ziva bit down on her lip to stay quiet and avoid revealing Alex to whoever was trying to kill him.

"Shit." he spoke in a low whisper, barely audible from her end. "Ziva, they're ex-SCORPIA. I managed to get put two of them out of action, but I don't know how many others are with them. I need you to track this call and get me out of here. I'll be hiding, so when you get close, identify yourself, alright?"

She let out the breath she had been holding, whispering back to the boy. "Alright. Alex, just stay on the line for a little while longer, I'll have McGee track you down." She muted the call as she walked over to Tony and McGee, both of whom were staring at her as if she had grown a third head. "What?"

McGee paused, unsure where to start. "Why do I need to track him down?" asked McGee hesitantly, not even attempting to hide the fact that they had been eavesdropping.

"I'll explain that when I get back. For now, just track this call." She rattled off her number to the other agent, tying her hair into a ponytail as she spoke. She kept her phone pressed to her cheek with her shoulder, alert in case the situation on the other side of the call changed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Tony raised both hands in the international stop sign, staring at Ziva as if she was insane. "You're leaving? Without telling Gibbs? Who is this British hotshot?" His voice had a jealous tint to it, one that was not lost on any of the three huddled around McGeek's computer.

Ziva didn't spare him a glance, instead unholstering her gun and making sure it was fully loaded and operational. "An old friend." she answered simply, avoiding his worried glances.

"Seriously," continued Tony, brows creased in concern. "Gibbs is gonna kill you if you go."

"Found him," piped McGee, pointing at a blinking dot on the map on his screen. "He's in the alleyway behind Kerry's Bar."

Ziva nodded her thanks to McGee, grabbing her keys from her desk and running to the stairs instead of waiting for the age old elevator. "The most Gibbs can do is fire me." She called over her shoulder. "If I don't go now, he might actually die." She swung open the door to the fire escape, disappearing down it in a flash.

With perfect timing, Gibbs walked over with a fresh coffee, case file in hand. He stared at the two men whose jaws had dropped at the ex-Mossad agent's sudden exit. "Was that Ziva I just saw sprinting out of here?" he asked, watching as the doors to the stairs swung shut.

"Uh…" Tony gaped like a fish, trying frantically to think of an excuse to save Ziva's hide.

"Family circumstances, sir." McGee cut in. "I'm sure she had her reasons."

Gibbs, unimpressed with the obvious lie, stared at McGee and Tony. "Fine." He ceded, allowing the thin excuse to pass by him once. After all, Ziva was a good agent who rarely caused a fuss. "We'll have to get started without her. McGee, the case please."

The beginning of a fic I've had on my computer for a while...

Anyone I think I should continue this?