Never Alone

Chapter 1

AN: Like many people I was inspired to write this after watching Shabbat and Shiva. I think this is really the season for Tony and Ziva. It's about time! For anyone who is not up to date on their episodes this season there will be some major spoilers. You are warned.

*The title is based on what Tony said to Ziva in Hebrew before she boarded the plane in Shiva. He said, "You are not alone."

NCIS3

Tony drummed his fingers against his cluttered desk. The tension at NCIS headquarters was absolutely palpable. It had been nine days since Eli David and Jackie Vance had been shot dead by a rogue Mossad agent with dreams of war and a power position as the new director. It had been eight days since an international manhunt had begun to bring this murderer in. It had been seven days since Jackie Vance and Eli David had been laid to rest. Tomorrow Ziva would be flying home having settled some of her father's affairs and observing the seven days of Shiva.

Tony glanced at his phone. No calls, no new leads and nothing to show for seven days. The wrath of Gibbs was upon them and everyone was desperate for some resolution, or at the very least Ilan Bodnar's head mounted on a pike and paraded around the town square a la Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette. Not her best work but he had been dating some 20 something year old at the time that just loved Kirsten Dunst. Not that that was important. It wasn't important at all but his mind had been skipping through topics like an old record player since Gibbs, Vance and Craig had headed to Vance's office ten minutes ago.

Vance hadn't been in all week and now he was back looking like a stone pillar, Gibbs equally has hard, and Deputy Director Jerome Craig looking like the neighborhood runt trying to tag along with the tough kids the whole way. Had there been some new intel? Was Bodnar cooling his heals in some foreign jail cell after being taken in by another agency? After all every allied country had been put on high alert. Or maybe Bodnar had made his way back home to Israel…To finish what he started. A pencil snapped.

"Tony."

DiNozzo looked sharply at McGee who was staring at him over his computer screen.

"Have you heard from Ziva?" He asked with some attempt at a casual tone but it seemed little Timmy was worried too.

"Not since Friday. She told me what flight she was on. She'll be back tomorrow, " he said distractedly. He was sure that he heard some raised voices coming through the office door on the second floor. Hm…that was supposed to be soundproof.

"Have you tried calling her since then?" McGee asked with some terseness as he glanced at the director's door as well.

"You know McGee if you are concerned why don't you call her. I'm not the only one with her number here!" Tony snapped. It wasn't Tim he was frustrated with, but Tim had been the one to poke the bear so let him deal with the consequences.

"Tony, I'm sure she is fine," Tim tried with a firm tone, not thrown off my Tony's sharp response and uncharacteristically serious mood. He had been witness to them before and they were strangely almost all linked to a possible threat to a certain former Mossad officer.

Tony did not bother pointing out the turnabout McGee had just done in first showing concern about the lack of communication with Ziva and then reassuring him that she was fine. He simply answered, "I know McGee."

He finally dropped his eyes from the office door and looked at McGee. How much would they have to sacrifice for this job? It seemed at times like maybe a simpler life would have not involved so much pain.

"We got to find this guy. We have two people we care about that deserve that," he managed with deadly calm.

Tim merely nodded. Understanding the resolve and the desire to give Ziva and Vance the revenge they had coming. They would make sure they got it.

The trill of Tony's phone made them both start suddenly. Tony grabbed at it too quick to feign cool but he didn't care.

"DiNozzo," He said quickly only to be deflated by the voice of unfamiliar man. "Yes, this is Anthony DiNozzo, and yes that is my address, now…"

Tim turned his attention away from his team member as he realized that it was not Ziva on the line. Tony continued with his conversation, getting more annoyed by the second. He had more on his mind than this bullshit.

"Yes I want it delivered, but no now is not a good time. I have this thing called a job. No I scheduled it to be delivered after 5 pm. No I can't come now. What do you mean you're going to leave it there!"

Tim went back to finalizing his case report as Tony argued with the mystery person on the phone. Whoever it was picked a bad time to give Tony DiNozzo any bad news.

"Look I don't care if your boss will be angry, take it back to the store!"

The unlocking of Vance's door drew every agent on the floors attention up to the upper level and agents quickly tried to look busy as Vance, Gibbs and Craig walked to MTAC. Tony tried to inconspicuously lower his cell phone out of sight until they had passed the security scan and entered the room, and then he immediately brought the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah, you think your boss will get mad, well mine is on the line talking to heads of foreign intelligence agencies right now trying to avoid an international crisis and wouldn't be thrilled if I skipped out early because you couldn't see the difference between 2 pm and 5 pm on a delivery slip!"

There was a pause as Tony listened to the sounds of the guy on the other end laugh at him and then unceremoniously hang up.

"Yee ahhh!" DiNozzo let out in frustration as he slammed his phone down. "Can you believe that?" He exclaimed looking at Tim.

"You know Tony we are trying to keep that whole international crisis thing under wraps. I don't know if you should have said that…"

"Oh relax McGeek, the delivery guy for Mattress Depot can't read numbers on a chart never mind organize a terrorist cell."

Tim shrugged his disapproval but knew he wasn't going to start anything over it, so he focused instead on the other piece of information Tony let slip.

"So you bought a new mattress…" He ventured.

Tony barely acknowledged this as he had begun drumming his fingers again and was busy staring at the entrance to MTAC.

"How's your back McGee? Feel like moving a mattress?"

"Tony, what do you think Gibbs would do if he found out we left work to move your mattress? If you haven't noticed he hasn't been in a good mood lately."

"Come on McGee, we haven't had lunch yet. We'll run out, move the mattress, grab some lunch, my treat of course, and we make it back in no time," he tried to reason. Really they could use a break anyway and his very expensive new mattress was sitting on a street corner right now!

McGee rolled his eyes, "Tony we haven't taken a lunch break all week and you know Gibbs wouldn't have to say something he would just look at us like we had run over a puppy or something."

There was a clear expectation when there was a personal case involved that no one took a lunch break, left at the usual time or in general relented from an all-consuming hunt for the truth/suspect.

"McGee we are fresh out of leads, there are no new cases at the moment and we are just going to sit here and wait for something to break. Come on it's Sunday, we are here on the weekend call shift and there is nothing we can do…"

"But Gibbs…"

"…Will understand when we bring back lunch and fresh coffee for him. Come on McGee I have a brand new queen sized posture support mattress with a plush pillow top sitting up against the side of my building right now."

For good measure Tony gave him the puppy eyes. Seriously he had finally made the decision to upgrade his sleeping arrangements and now his new bed was gathering dirt in the streets.

"Fine Tony, lets do this quick."

NCIS3

Ziva let her fingers trail over the number of books in her father's study. The fine leather spines were a bit dusty, save a few that her father must have read more recently. The last remnants of his time in the house were painfully visible and Ziva had almost whished she could have stayed at a hotel.

But that would not have been right. She was expected to stay in her father's house and receive victors with their arms full of more food than she could possibly eat in the short time she planned to stay in Israel. Her extended family had been dropping by with frequency and though she appreciated their company and support she was happy to finally have the house quiet.

Coming across the title she was looking for she pulled the book from the shelf. The Odyssey. It was the story of a Greek hero who found himself far from home after the Trojan War. He had to fight horrible monsters and deal with an insubordinate crew and overcome his own weaknesses in order to return home to his wife Penelope and son Telemachus. It took him 20 years to do it, but he did eventually return home and reunite with his family and reclaim his throne in Ithaca. Ziva's jaw clenched for a moment. This was her father's favorite book. Hesitantly she opened it, flipping through the pages until she found what she had been looking for, an old brass key carefully tucked in the pages looking dull and unimportant.

Ziva carefully picked it up and slid the book back onto the shelf. This key was just one of her father's many secrets. Striding to his desk she pulled out one of the drawers. Many of his files were missing. Most likely taken before she even arrived in Israel and now what was left were mostly personal documents pertaining to day-to-day living. She was sure that any sensitive documents had been meticulously collected, but what she wanted had nothing to do with Mossad or international espionage.

Moving the row of folders back she spied the brown seemingly solid bottom of the drawer and reached down to press the hidden catch, popping the secret false bottom open. Lifting it out of the she revealed the locked tin box that lay hidden. Her father would never let her look in there when she was child. It was that way since her mother had died.

Carefully she lifted the tin box out the drawer laying it down on top of the desk. The brass key in her hand matched the brass lock on the box and she almost felt guilty for opening it. This was obviously something her father had wanted locked away. But he was gone now…

She slid the key into the lock and remained impassive as she heard the click of the box unlocking, but as she lifted the lid her resolve crumpled as a hint of yellow gold caught the light. Tears had dropped down her cheeks before she had a chance to check them.

It was still here. It was exactly as she had remembered it. Gingerly she reached into the box and pulled out the gold plated music box. Its small-engraved patterns were simple and beautiful and felt cool to the touch as she skimmed her fingers lightly over it. Coming to the small lever she pushed it to the side causing the oval hatch on top of the box to spring open and reveal a royal blue bird. Music began to play and Ziva stifled a sob as she snapped the lever back enclosing the bird and ending the song.

Ziva held her mother's music box giving into the desire to cry, no longer fighting her grief. She and Tali had fought one night after their mother's death over the music box and their father had come in, angry that they could not share their mother's memento.

He had taken it and put it in this box over 20 years ago.

Tali and Ziva had felt such shame at fighting over their mother's treasured possession that neither asked about it again. She should have let Tali have it, but she had been young and too full of her own pain and anger to consider her little sister's feelings. Their father had given their mother the box as a gift after coming home from an assignment early in their marriage, before they had children. Ziva's earliest memories of childhood involved the music from this box. She could remember moving about their small childhood home in the morning, her mother letting the music box play as she brushed her hair and dressed for the day. Tali loved the music from the little golden box and sometimes she would just sit near it while their mother got ready.

Wiping hastily at her cheeks Ziva glanced at the other contents of the tin box. There was her grandfather's watch in a wooden case, a small stack of old photos and an antique revolver with an ivory handle. Where the gun was from perhaps she did not want to know. There were many of her father's secrets that she would happily stay ignorant too from this point on. There was no use having anger in your heart for a dead man.

Now was the time to return home and help take down the man responsible for his death. And after that, well who knows. She hadn't planned that far. But it was going to involve letting go. She had begun this before her father's death, but now it seemed even more important. She had let go of her anger, of the feelings of betrayal and hurt. She had wonderful people n her life, a job that she loved most days and…That's where she wasn't sure. But she did know one thing; in D.C. she was not alone. Tony had made sure she knew that. Tony…

The telltale unlatching of a door lock had Ziva snapping out of her thoughts quickly. She was not near her weapon, as she had taken it off in the house. Quickly she snatched the revolver and checked the chambers. It was loaded. Well it had better still work.

She positioned herself to left of the door, out the direct line of sight of an intruder entering and raised her weapon with practiced ease.