Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It really isn't that hard to write from the point of view of not knowing anything, because we already know so little about our favorite Ninja's condition. But the condition of purposeful forgetfulness is hard on the mind. I wish we would get something to write about already.

My newest sojourn into the realm of fanfiction has probably already been done. But Ducky and Abby bring to the table a fairly different dialogue, as between a grandfather and granddaughter, and besides, I am a believer in learning the lessons of the dead(if you want to avoid it yourself, you know). And how can anyone think of anything besides the upcoming premier?

Anyways, the philosophical mumbo-jumbo is inspired by a book I had to read in college, This Flowing Towards Me. I would have written this anyways, but with less idea of what I was saying. And the quote is relevant, in all seriousness.

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Stranger Things Have Happened

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"Why did you save my life?"

"I had to. God put you in my way." –The Four Feathers

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"Boys can be so stupid." Abby twirled her parasol, watching as she twisted the toe of her platform boot into the grass. She fidgeted more, biting her lip as she glanced up. "I know working with Tony could give anyone a bad image, but it isn't just him. It's just like after you died --- they think they've done all they can and now they won't talk about it. But I know it still hurts, because McGee is turning mean and Tony gets real quiet sometimes and Gibbs---" Abby stomped on the grass, chewing on her next words.

"He's lost a lot of people. I know he can deal with that; he'll just go to his basement to drink bourbon and work on his boat. But this time, she just walked away." Her parasol twirled, and its shadow danced madly with it across the smooth marble block in front of her. "What should I do?"

Abby didn't expect an answer --- Caitlin Todd could speak no more now than she could four years ago on a slab in autopsy. But Ducky had spoken to her then, and Abby needed to talk to her now, because the talking was the one thing that could help, and the one thing that everyone else was refusing to do.

"And don't say that it's just like another divorce, because it's not. First of all, Ziva doesn't have red hair, so Gibbs would probably never look at her like that, then there's rule number twelve, so he wouldn't even if she did, but that's not the point. The point is, Gibbs hasn't given up on her yet. He wants her back. As far as he's concerned, she's still part of the team. It's even more 'til death do us part' than marriage." Again she chewed at her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "But I know you already knew that."

Losing Kate had been a hard first for the team, made doubly hard for the irony of being spared one bullet only to die by another moments later. But losing someone was always hard. Kate died and was mourned. Paula Cassidy and Director Shepard died and the team grieved and moved on.

Ziva simply vanished. There was no place where they could pay their respects, and there was no Ari to chase and kill. There could be no revenge, no closure. Not even the simplest goodbye.

Abby had tried. All her e-mails were kicked back and Ziva's cell phone was disconnected. The only thing that stopped her from calling Tel Aviv and giving Papa David a piece of her mind was the conviction that Ziva did not want to be found (and the fact that she had full faith in her ability to find anyone on the Internet, or her ability to convince McGee to do it for her).

"It's just not fair," she finally said. "She's allowed to be mad, but she's still family."

"But might I ask, dear Abigail, which bond is stronger?" The philosophical mien announced Ducky's presence as surely as the crunch of grass beneath his feet. "The bond of blood spilt for a common purpose, or the bond of blood shared?"

"She shouldn't have had to choose between them."

"No," Ducky sighed. "Certainly not." But there was a part of the old Englishman that was not sure that she ever had. He had begun to suspect it ever since the troubles began.

Perhaps it was not Gibbs who had killed Ari. Perhaps it was Ziva. Perhaps it was known that her brother had become a rogue agent. Perhaps she had been ordered to kill him. It was not more than conjecture, but it would throw a different light onto Gibbs' unquestioning acceptance of the foreign 'meddler,' as she certainly would have been viewed otherwise.

Or perhaps losing one more loved one to an agency she belonged to only conditionally was more than she could take.

"But it's not fair, Ducky," Abby said, interrupting his reverie with a hug. "They were the ones that broke the rules. They should have lost her."

"Abigail," Ducky said, pausing to weigh his words, "you have been born with extraordinary luck, that you have not been asked to tangle your most innate loyalties and all your training for some abstract goal."

"We're scientists, Ducky," she replied, pulling away. "We don't believe in luck."

"We may not be able to prove empirically that it exists, but neither can we prove the existence of any god, nor the ties that bind us to strangers so completely that we forget what it was to live without them."

"Ziva wasn't a stranger, Ducky. Neither was Kate. None of them were."

"Not in the end. But there was a time when all of us were unknown to you, and you to us. What brought this family of ours together, with so little in common between us?" Ducky shook his head. "And it is important to remember that Ziva is not dead. She will come back."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well," Ducky said, "she is family, after all."

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A/N: Since I've been out of writing for a while, I'd like reviews even more, to make sure I'm doing things right. So please review.