Peace Forgotten, Righteous Beautiful

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: The massacre of Americans and Israelis at an inner-peace function forces Mossad and NCIS to work together. In a time when you have to be careful who you can trust, and when romance between the agencies is forbidden, will two agents willingly break the rules, and compromise their mission, at the expense of innocent lives, for their forbidden attraction? AU. MCGIVA.

A/N: Found this in an old folder on my laptop; I had it entirely written and edited, but never posted. It actually, wasn't even fan fiction when I wrote it. It was a novel, set in the eighties, about two fictional agents- one Mossad, the other FBI, originally- who are forced to work a case together to avenge the deaths of Americans and Israelis killed during a peace function by a radical group. It started out as a war/military forces/adventure/action story, and developed into a military forces/adventure/romance.

And, surprisingly, when I wrote this back in '99, the girl's name was Ziva. I chose that name from a list of Hebrew names in a book that focused on the history and meaning of names, and I just liked the way it sounded. Although, halfway through the book, she's called Rivka, and she never really clears it up, so you don't know if her name is Rivka or Ziva, which I thought the mystery behind that idea was cool (I was ten, cut me some slack), and it's a very... almost Romeo and Juliet feel about it.

It is an action adventure romance, with tragedy thrown in, of course; and, at the time, when I wrote it, it was almost... too ridiculous to even consider being a book. To be honest, my friends, family and teachers thought it was such a far-fetched idea that it would never be published; I never considered it good enough to be published, and I still don't. I was ten when I wrote it, or crying out loud!

The title of this novel was originally- don't ask me why- Texas Two-Step, because the FBI-Mossad joint operation in the novel was called Operation Texas Two-Step (you can tell which agency picked that name), and it was originally set- well, the bulk of the story- in about... 1982, roughly spanning from '82 to '84 or so, and officially ends in '90, but it works backwards when you read it. It's up to you if I should keep it in the past or update it to the present; although, for me, since it's my novel, and I'm asking feedback on it (or a version of it) it works better in the '80s. But that's just me.

So I am putting it out here for feedback; my editor/agent is interested in it, but I'm hesitant to give it to her, so I'm asking for feedback- good, constructive feedback- from the FF community. I don't want to give it to her and then find out it needs to be completely redone and that it's not even worth considering to be published. I myself never considered it publishable, but then again, it's my novel, and that's just me. What do I know? So I am turning to the writing community for help and suggestions. I greatly appreciate all feedback received on this, and I'm thanking you all now for taking the chance and reading this. This is... pretty much my very first novel, and... I'm giving up a lot of myself and my past within writing by posting it here for feedback and constructive criticism. It means a lot that any of you would even consider reading this old, almost daydream written novel, and I... I appreciate every review posted and every constructive suggestion given.

And please, please remember- I was ten when I wrote this. I had an unhealthy interest in federal agencies (which I think is why I've decided that I want to work for one, because I find them fascinating and I want to be a part of that world, and do good in a country that in the last few years has seen so much bad) and writing novels, and I somehow, some way, meshed my two interests together. So, without anymore preamble, I offer you the novelistic... novel of a ten-year-old writer's twisted mind.

"The race is not for the swift, nor the battle for the strong, but time and chance happens to them all.

Fate's hand falls suddenly, who can say when it falls?"

- Munich, 2005

1986, April, Paris

She pressed a kiss to the child's cheek, tugging gently on the dark curls before straightening and taking her husband's face in her hands. She searched his gaze, brushing her thumbs against the apples of his cheeks, before nudging her nose against his. He slid his hands along her waist, pulling her closer resting his forehead to hers with a soft sigh. Gently, she nuzzled her nose against his cheek, giggling softly.

"Promise me you will be safe, chéri. I could not bear to lose you."

Gently, she brushed her fingers over his cheeks, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I will be fine; it's not like I'm going into a war zone, or putting myself into any danger. I am just picking our darling up from school. Nothing can hurt me, there is nothing to hurt me, you know that." He sighed, pulling her closer and brushing a gentle kiss against her cheek.

"I know, I just... it's just me."

"No, it's the anniversary. Even when one gives up the badge, that way of life; the missions, the things we did, still find a way to haunt us, no matter how far we run." He took a deep breath, pulling away to study her gaze.

"When did you become so wise?" She shrugged, sliding her arms around his neck. They stood in the doorway, beneath the awning of the small business he owned. Rain fell in light sheets before them, coating the sidewalks, roads and every person caught in the light storm with rainwater, leaving behind the sweet scent of freshness in its wake. Gently, she reached own, playing with the top buttons of his shirt, her gaze focusing on the small circular disks holding his shirt closed.

"With age, with time," She shrugged, meeting his gaze and smiling. "and from you. You are the wisest man I know."

He scoffed gently, shaking his head. "Thank you. Just when I need to feel ten times older than I am." She laughed, reaching up and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You are perhaps getting a little grey- about the temples- but not much. Besides," She slid one hand to wrap around his neck again as she leaned against him, his arms clasped tight at her waist, supporting the weight she lazily refused to support by standing. "I love the grey. It's just enough that you look distinguished, but not so much that it's evident you are getting older and going grey."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled. "And you, my rose, are only getting lovelier with age." He reached up, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, searching her gaze, before leaning down. Her eyes fluttered closed as their lips met in a soft kiss, and after several seconds, she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, deepening the kiss. But eventually, she forced herself to pull away, laying her hands on his chest.

"I have to go pick up our daughter." She met his gaze. "You will be at her recital, right? You know how much it means to her-"

"I'll be there, I promise." She nodded once, silent, before allowing him to tug her gently from beneath the awning towards the curb. As the taxi pulled up and he opened the door for her, he caught her elbow. "Tell her I will be there as soon as possible. And that I love her, like I love you." He kissed her once more, before releasing her and stepping back. As he shut the door and watched as the cab pulled away from the curb, he couldn't shake the fear that knotted within his stomach.

She glanced out the window, watching the rain continue to pour as they waited at the stoplight. In her short life, never could she have imagined that she would one day live in Paris, married to a man that loved her with his whole heart. That they had just celebrated their daughter's third birthday two weeks earlier, only made it even more apparent that she had been given a chance she otherwise never would have had.

"Are you cold, Madame? I can turn up the heater." She turned from the window, towards the cabbie up front.

"No, I am fine, Merci. Just thinking."

"Rainy days are good days for thinking." A soft nod before she turned back to the window as the light turned and the cars started to move.

"Yes, they certainly-"

Her words were cut off as another vehicle slammed into the back of the cab, shoving it into the car ahead of it.