Jenny's flaming red hair fanned out on the pillow, hands under her head as she gazed up at the ceiling. The seventeen year old was moving quickly through the college classes for her chosen field, as was her…well, she wasn't sure what to call him. They were very similar, career oriented and too busy for real relationships, but, of course, they each had needs. Their relationship allowed them to address that without getting too involved in anything. Their plans and lives would not be interrupted by love, of that they were determined. She rolled over onto her side, knowing the movement would wake her Mossad lover. His training was too deeply engrained. "Wake up, Eli." She murmured. "I can't be late for my classes and you have a plane to catch."

"Too bad. I've gotten used to America, Israel will not seem so normal anymore."

Jen laughed. "Just give it time. In a couple of weeks you'll be wondering how you ever survived here."

"Well, I'm glad to have been able to spend time with you Jenny." He replied, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Don't get sentimental on me now, Eli." She warned. "I've got an exam today."

He laughed too. "There she is. Goodbye, Jenny."

"Bye Eli." She watched him get dressed and leave, wondering who she might be able to convince to replace him.

She leaned over the toilet bowl as she vomited, coughing up the last of it. "Damn. Damn! DAMN!!!" She cursed angrily. Birth control wasn't always effective, she knew that, but why did it have to flunk out on her? She did NOT have time for this. She glared down at the slight bulge that was settled between her hips. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, disgustedly, and strode out to the phone in her small apartment. She dialed hesitantly, then she waited.

"Shalom?"

"Eli?" she asked uncertainly. People really sounded so different over the phone.

"Jenny! Miss me already?" he asked teasingly.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm heartbroken." She answered sarcastically. "Actually," her voice became just a little nervous. "I have a problem. I'm pregnant." She blurted out.

"Oh. I see. What are we going to do?"

"WE aren't going to do anything. I'm going to handle this. I just thought you had a right to know."

"Alright, then what are you going to do?"

"Improvise. I'll figure something out, I just don't like unexpected changes."

"They'll happen a lot in your line of work."

"I know. Hey, I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Not at all. Tell me how things turn out, alright?"

"Of course. Bye."

"Goodbye." She hung up. What was she going to do? If her numbers were right, the baby would be born right before the next year's classes. If she could find a way to hide the baby bump until summer, she'd be fine. And then she'd give up the child for adoption. She didn't need a baby to slow her down right now. But what about her father? He couldn't know, she decided. She'd just have to avoid visits until after the baby was born. She nodded to herself, briefly. This could work.

Jenny drew her hood farther over her head, bouncing the baby on her hip as the rain came down. Her numbers had been off by about three months, and her daughter had been born, tiny and perfect, on November 20th, 1977. She walked up to the heavy wooden door and took a deep breath before knocking, holding her daughter's head close to her shoulder as she waited for the door to open.

"Coming!" came the gruff yell from inside. Jenny bit her lip and considered leaving, but before she could decide, the door swung open, and she found herself face to face with her father. The retired Navy commander just looked at her.

"Hello Papí." She said quietly. "I, uh…I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have done that on the phone." He replied, eyes now on his granddaughter.

"I know." She said nervously. "But I thought…What I mean is…"

He cut her off. "Come in, Jennifer." He stepped back to let her through. Jenny ducked inside, pushing the wet hood back off her hair. Jasper Sheppard closed the door behind her and led her into the study. Jenny sat down nervously across from her father. It was this devotion to formality that had made her afraid to tell her father about the baby. "May I hold my grandchild?" he asked, perfectly calm. She nodded silently, and carefully passed the bundle over the desk. Jasper adjusted the girl in his arms, reminding Jenny that he had held her as a baby too. "She's beautiful, Jenny."

Jenny shifted in her chair, uncomfortably. "I need help Papí."

"I can see that. Who's the father? That young Israeli boy you had wrapped around your finger?" she nodded again. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'd thought about giving her up, but I just can't do it. All I can think of is that I need to finish my classes, but I have to figure out a way to take care of her. I thought…maybe…you could help me figure something out." When all else has failed, turn to the people who can do anything. Mom and dad.

"You want my advice?" he asked, not looking up from his granddaughter.

"Yes please."

"Move back in and leave her with me while you're at classes. Then, when she's old enough, either hire a nanny or send her to daycare while you're out."

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Papí. I knew you'd have the answer."

He gestured for her to come around the desk, and she went to pick up her daughter. Jasper handed the baby over and then stood up, hugging his daughter. She turned into him, feeling that childhood safety, and the baby let out a little noise at being squished between her mother and grandfather. "What's her name?"

"Sarai. Sarai Razi Sheppard."

"Israeli." He nodded approvingly.

"It means princess." Said Jenny. "My princess."

Jenny was always on the fast track, through school, career, everything. Her daughter never seemed to slow her down. In public, she was business-like and sure, but when she got home to her daughter and father, her entire manner changed. Her life revolved around the daughter that didn't exist in the outside world. Sarai was picked up from school by María, a young Hispanic woman who looked after the Sheppard family, and none of Jenny's friends or colleagues knew that she had a daughter. Sarai was raised as a child of Mossad, even though she lived in calm Virginia rather than chaotic Israel. Jasper Sheppard disapproved of this upbringing, and never hesitated to say so. He taught his granddaughter differently, bringing in the values of a by-gone era of chivalry and trust. Her teachers remarked on her intelligence and creativity, but also on the quiet, unchallenging way she took on the world. María stood in for Jenny in parent-teacher conferences, accepting the praise that she received on Sarai's upbringing. Finally, the day came when Jenny no longer had the faculties to teach Sarai the ways of Mossad. Jenny knelt in front of her daughter, straightening the ten-year-old's collar. "Why can't you come with me, Mamá?" she asked.

"Because this is your special trip. Don't you want to go? You like it the last time we visited." Explained Jenny.

"Grandperé doesn't want me to go." Complained the girl, fidgeting under Jen's care.

"Who told you that?" asked Jen absently.

"I heard you talking. Grandperé doesn't think it's a good idea."

"Grandperé just doesn't like that you're going to follow in your father's footsteps so soon. Come on, Raz. It'll be fun, yes?"

Sarai sighed. "I suppose so."

"Now, remember what I told you, okay? In Israel, you're name is Areille, got it?"

"Yup." Answered the girl cheerily. "Sara at school, Sarai Razi at home, and Areille in Israel."

"Good girl." Jen glanced her over, sadly, then kissed her forehead, patting her arm. "Go say goodbye to Grandperé." Sarai turned and rushed off, Jenny staring after her.

"Grandperé?" she called.

"In the study, Razi." Came the voice. "Come here, I've got something for you." Sarai skipped over to her grandfather and he lifted her up onto his lap. He fastened a sliver Star of David around her throat, knowing that it was her chosen faith. "Be true, Princess." He said softly. "Your parents are teaching you so much, giving you all the skills you'll ever need, but you must always remember that they have no use if you're not being true to yourself."

"But why will this remind me?" she asked, confused.

"Because faith is the one thing you have to find for yourself." He petted her hair and then sent her back to her mother. "Have fun, Razi!" he called after her. Sarai nodded to show she'd heard him and took her mother's hand. The two of them headed out to the car and Jenny drove to the airport.

Sarai whirled, tackling the boy to the ground and pinning him there, hardly exerting any energy. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Michael?" she demanded, angrily, pushing herself off of him. "I could have killed you."

"Not even you're that good yet." Protested Michael, straightening his shirt. He cursed himself for letting down his guard with her, as always. He would always get distracted by…well, by her. Her black hair, hanging low on her back, her dazzling green eyes, and the grace with which she moved, like a dancer on stage. They were both only children, but she held his attention like nothing else, making him lose his train of thought as well as their training sessions. "I was just trying to practice."

Sarai's eyes softened as they rested affectionately on her friend. She knew what she did to him, and she wished she could change it, knowing that their feelings would only hurt him in the end. Even as a twelve year old, she knew who she was and what she would become. "You should practice on someone else, Michael. One of these days, I'll hurt you." He chose to ignore the double warning in her words, focusing instead on the next thing she said. "Please don't make me do that." She pleaded gently.

"Give me a chance, Areille." He said firmly.

"Maybe another day."

Two years later, Sarai sat on a tree swing in the Davíd's backyard, sketching. A little distance away, the two young Davíd girls, Ziva and Tahlia, tumbled around, play fighting. Sarai smiled gently at her half-sisters before going back to her sketch. She'd been in Israel for three years, learning all that her father and Mossad could teach her. She looked up when she felt someone sit down next to her. "What're you drawing, Lela?" asked Ziva curiously.

"It's you and Tahlia." Sarai replied, showing her the picture.

Ziva stared at it, taking in the details. "That's really good." She told the older girl.

"You can have it if you want." Said Sarai, handing the finished sketch over.

The eleven year held onto it, her painted nails dark spots against the paper. "Thank you." She ran off to show her sister.

Sarai packed up her art supplies and headed into the woods behind the house. She stood in her favourite clearing, running her fingers through her hair. "I know you're there, Michael." She said softly. "Come out, I won't bite."

He melted out of the trees, handsome and taller than average at fourteen. In the almost three years since she'd arrived, he'd never given up on earning her affections. "No," he admitted. "But you do have a tendency to attack me."

"Only because you keep trying to sneak up on me." She replied evenly, not looking at him.

He sighed in frustration. "You're going to be leaving in a few months, would it really hurt to give it one try?"

"Yes, it would." Her voice was soft, a little sad. "Can't you leave it be?"

"No." he replied, resolutely. "Not until you give me a shot."

She turned to face him slowly, stepping close. She pressed her lips against his, holding his head in place, not that he could have moved it anyway, even if he'd wanted to. She pulled away, eyes fluttering open. "Should a fourteen year old girl be able to do that, Michael?" she asked quietly.

He was dazed and white faced, lust an unfamiliar sensation in his young body. "I…I don't think so."

She shook her head. "I'm here to train, but not for the same things as you and Ziva and Tahlia." She murmured, rolling the Hebrew off her tongue as seductively as she could. "You haven't seen enough of life for us to be a good match. Wait a few years, have a few love affairs, then come back and I'll think about it." She glided off into the trees, leaving him, confused, in the clearing.

Eli and his wife, Ivanna, dropped Sarai off at the airport. Ivanna drew the fourteen year old into her embrace, hugging her briefly. "Goodbye, Areille." She whispered in Hebrew, kissing her on the forehead. "Come and visit, alright?"

"I will Vana." Sarai murmured back. "Thank you so much, for everything."

Eli petted Sarai's hair and smiled, gesturing for her to go. Sarai turned and went through security, rubbing her eyes. She'd spent over three years with her father, and he'd never treated her like a daughter, never acknowledged that his blood ran through her as thickly as Jen's. She settled herself on the plane and leaned her head back against the seat. About eight hours later, she found herself exiting the plane in the Virginia airport. As she rode the escalator down to the main floor, she craned her neck, looking for María. Her gaze passed over the head of shining red hair and she did a double take. There, in the crowd of people welcoming friends and family, was her mother. Jen had never gone out in Virginia with her daughter, only taking her out of state for excursions. Sarai had long understood that she was Jen's little secret. She started running as soon as her feet were off the escalator. A path rippled open for the teen, adults casting her an amused or annoyed glance before dismissing her entirely. Jen pulled her close when Sarai reached her, holding back tears.

"Welcome back, Princess." She murmured into the girl's hair. She held Sarai away from her for a moment, a hand on her shoulder. "Look at you! All grown up." She said sadly. Her daughter had grown and changed in the last three years, and now Jen could see just how little Sarai resembled her. Apart from milky skin, a European structure, and those incredible green eyes, Sarai was Israeli through and through. A widow's peak of blue-black hair crowned her forehead, the rest of the hair hanging down her back like a thick, shimmering curtain. Her body was thin, but solid muscle, proof of the training she'd been receiving, and the dark, bowed lips smiled easily. Jen pulled her into a hug again, and Sarai was completely overwhelmed by this out-pouring of affection. "Come on, Grandperé's waiting in the car.

"Thank you for coming, Mamá." Said Sarai softly.

"I wouldn't have missed it, Razi. You've been gone too long."

Stakeout, Queens New York

She was soft, thought Gibbs, absently. Not like in the mind or in her sympathies. It was just that, although she was a slender woman, there were no sharp angles. Every part of her body transitioned smoothly from one to the next. He had been gazing at her back for the last few hours of today, and several hours a day for about a week previously. It wasn't like there was much else to do undercover. She really was beautiful...

"Gibbs." her voice broke his train of thought. Correction, her voice could be VERY sharp when she wanted it to be. "Stop fantasizing and get over here. We may have something." Damn. How the hell...? She hadn't even turned around.

He walked over to her, glancing out the window. "Nah. Just a drug deal."

Jen sighed, frustrated. "Doesn't it bother you to see this? It goes against everything I know to just watch and do nothing."

"Fine, but you have to explain to the Director why our assignment went bust."

She turned on him. "How do you detach yourself like this?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Easy. Practice."

"Of course." Smirked Jen. "Your turn on lookout. I've got to make a call." She wandered into the other room. Gibbs sat down at the window, wondering who she was always calling. The calls usually lasted about fifteen minutes, and she made the twice a day, every day, without fail. A boyfriend? He wondered. Or a husband and kids? He shook his head. Jen was in her mid thirties and most definitely not the maternal type. Maybe an elderly parent? That was more possible…

Gibbs sat at the window, watching the drug dealer out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. It did annoy him to let this happen. His eyes left the dealer. Especially at times like this. A young woman strode toward the man on the corner. Everything about her, from her platinum blonde hair down to her hips and below, to her translucent blouse and low-rise jeans, screamed sex. The father in him died a little as she perched herself on the dealers arm, flirtatiously, letting him touch her. He felt like storming the deal and dragging the girl home by her ear, after all, she couldn't be more than twenty. Suddenly, he caught a flash of metal and heard the report of a gun just as the dealer dropped to the ground, dead instantly. The girl gazed down at him for a moment, then nudged his arm out with her foot, dropping the gun down next to it. For the first time, Gibbs noticed the creamy gloves on her hands, almost invisible against her skin. No fingerprints, no DNA, no evidence. She swung around the corner, and he heard the roar of a powerful engine. The deep blue Acura sped down the street, and as it passed the building, the girl looked up at the window, and smiled. Gibbs felt stiff with…fear? For some reason, he felt like she could see him, like she knew him, and like she knew he'd seen her. And, yes, it made him afraid. The cold efficiency with which she'd shot a man in cold-blood, made him sure that she wouldn't hesitate to eliminate a witness. Jen stuck her head in through the door. "What the hell was that?" she asked, annoyed. She looked like she'd just woken up.

"Someone just shot that dealer." Replied Gibbs. He had a sudden suspicion. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"That," she replied casually. "Would be illegal." She turned away, heading back to the bedroom. "Call and tell the Director, I'm going back to sleep."

Gibbs sighed, annoyed, and dialed the Director. "Director, someone just got shot on our street corner. A drug dealer. I didn't have a great view from here, but I can tell you that it was a woman, no more than twenty, blonde, probably dyed, about five foot and 120 pounds."

"Anything else?"

"She drove off in a dark blue Acura, I didn't get the model."

"Thanks Gibbs. I'll send someone in. Stay low."

As much as he hated it, Gibbs occasionally had to leave his house to go to the store. He was walking through the aisles when he saw her, the woman from Queens. Her hair was now a stunning auburn, but it was hard to mistake the length of it or the body it attached to. She was walking with a young man who was so obviously entranced by her that he had to stifle a laugh. His eyes widened when he heard her voice, a low, musical sound, all silk and honey. The can he was holding fell from his hand into the cart, and while the young man didn't even bat an eyelash, the woman began to lag behind until she had separated from her escort. She turned to face him, tilting her head to the side, and he was pinned as her misty green eyes met his pale blue ones. He noticed the pronounced widow's peak, looking like a draped, bronze circlet crown on her forehead and those emerald eyes. He saw no hostility, curiosity, or irritation in those eyes, only recognition, but he wasn't very comforted by that. "You wonder, don't you?" she asked softly, the Russian sounding like song as she stepped towards him. "You wonder whether or not you should do your duty to NIS." She turned to the shelf, picking up a box and looking at it as she continued. "You'll make the right choice. You are a marine, through and through." She set the box back on the shelf, switching to French. "Au revoir, Monsieur Gibbs." She turned around and left, he heard her musical voice speaking to the young man a short distance away. Her words rang in his ears. Au revoir, until next time. And she knew his name, knew his history. You'll make the right choice. His fingers released the cell phone in his pocket. He still wanted to know who she was, but he would not betray her. Not just yet.

Virginia, Just outside of Quantico.

The group of girls walked down the street, laughing and talking as they made their way home from school. One by one, they waved to their friends and turned down side-streets until only one was left. Sarai shouldered her backpack, pulling a long black ponytail out of the way of the thick shoulder strap, and kept walking. She pulled an MP3 player out of her pocket and stuck her headphones into her ears. She walked along the sidewalk, oblivious to her surroundings as she mouthed along to Everlast. It didn't take long for her to take a few wrong turns and end up in one of the dingier parts of town. She glanced up, confused, and pulled out the headset, stuffing the whole bundle back into her pocket. She glanced down every street as she passed it, trying to find a familiar name, but to no avail. Suddenly, she became aware of a muffled struggle in a nearby alley. Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she snuck up to the entrance, peeking into the dark alleyway. A tall, dark man was standing over a dying older man, having just stabbed him suicide style. The gasp escaped her before she could stop it. "Grandperé!"

The other man spun around. "Hey!" She didn't wait around, just kicked off her shoes and ran, her bare feet pounding against the pavement. The backpack fell from her shoulder as she raced down the street, chest heaving as she prayed to make it home safely. Unfortunately, she was lost already, and she wasn't too concerned with stopping to read the signs anymore. She found herself right back where she had started, tiring quickly. Then her foot her a rock and she rolled to the ground, clutching her ankle. The man, who had been hard on her heels, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into an alley opposite the one where her grandfather lay dead. She tried to struggle, but he had an iron grip and she couldn't get away. He tore at her clothes and threw her to the ground, half-naked. She knew what would be next, and kicked her leg out at him. His hand shot out and caught the kick, twisting her leg under her. And then it was too late and she was pinned between heat and stone cold. The pain was blinding, her eyes swam, and she saw spots, biting her lip until she tasted blood to keep from screaming. She felt the invasions, and the tearing, and she stayed conscious, wishing, for the first time in her life, for the rising cold of a fainting spell. But she couldn't make one come. She cried out as her body betrayed her and sobbed quietly, waiting for it all to end. Finally it did, and she breathed a sigh of relief, until she saw the blade. She tried to scream, but he silenced her, pressing his thumb into her throat. Too late, she felt the rising tide of blackness as she fainted against the wall, already having felt the knife slash through her body. She woke to a thin wailing sound, not realizing it was coming from her own lips, and she fought to clear the fogginess from her brain. Her hand brushed against something and she turned. She turned away again just as quickly, throwing up in the corner. Her grandfather lay next to her, dead, his eyes staring straight ahead, a knife in his chest. Sarai put her hand over his heart, praying over the dead man. "Grandperé." She murmured, sadly. "How could this happen?"

Suddenly, someone appeared in the entrance to the alley, and Sarai flinched. "I'm not going to hurt you." Said the man gently. "Are you alright?"

Even in her present state, Sarai knew that that was an unnecessary question. "Hospital, quickly." She murmured, feeling the blackness coming back as she kept bleeding. He nodded and dialed 911.

The next time she woke, there was a doctor standing over her, about to give her anesthesia for surgery. She blacked out again quickly. Suddenly, she was in a tunnel, thousands of smaller tunnels branching off of the major one. She glanced into each one as she passed it, but they were all so dark that she kept going. Finally there was light. Someone stood in front of her, speaking to her, tapping her wounds. She watched, fascinated, as they healed. She was being told she had a purpose in life, that she could still choose to go back. She saw the gates of heaven open in front of her, and walked towards them. The person watched sadly. She stood in between the gates, not in heaven, and not out of it, for a long time, seeing her options, her life if she returned. The lives of the people she touched. And then those same lives if she kept walking. Death, heaven, was a kinder option to her, but these others, they would suffer for her selfishness. She turned around slowly, walking back to the angel, who began smiling. "A gift." They said, handing her a box. "Open it." Inside was a small crystal heart. She glanced up, confused. "Like Alice through the Looking Glass. The right thing for the right time. It will always be with you when you need it. It will give you the power to become whatever you need to be at that moment. You must live for the now, because, as you've just seen, unexpected things can happen."

Sarai looked at the angel. "How will I ever just be me?"

"When the time comes for you to do that, you will know." Came the answer as she walked back through the tunnel. She found herself in darkness again, swirling mists around her, faces, voices, confusion. She put her hands over her ears. "Stop!" Sarai yelled. Then the girl woke up, flinging back the white sheet over her body and finding herself in the hospital morgue. She swung her legs over the edge of the gurney and grabbed some alcohol swabs and dropped them onto the gurney she'd been lying on, searching for anything that would make a spark. Finally, she grabbed a lamp and smashed it over the swabs. Flames sprang up and she raced for the stairs. She stepped out on the main floor, and grabbed a pair of nurses' greens from a laundry basket. She slipped into a bathroom to change and then slipped out of the hospital, completely unnoticed in the chaos as the fire alarms went off. She arrived home and knocked sharply. María opened the door. "O, gracias Dio!" gasped the woman. "I was so worried!" she scolded in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, María." Answered Sarai, also in Spanish. "I got really lost, and it took me a while to find a cab." She headed to the stairs, trudging up them. "I'm going to bed." Sarai collapsed on her bed, her hands shaking slightly as she curled into a tight ball on top of the covers. She jumped when she heard the knock at the door. "Come in!" she said, fighting to slow her racing heart.

María pushed the door open, holding a small plate. "I brought you some dinner." She told the girl, sitting down next to her.

"I'm…I'm not hungry." Sarai curled up tighter.

María glanced down at her, concerned. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, setting the plate down on the nightstand. Sarai flinched when the woman touched her shoulder, still jumpy. "Sarai, talk to me. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Muttered Sarai petulantly.

"Too bad." Replied María sharply. "What really happened to you this afternoon?"

Sarai took a deep, shuddering breath. "Grandperé's dead." She said softly. "Murdered. I saw it."

María let out a stream of violent Spanish that, unfortunately, Sarai understood perfectly. "Are you alright? Do you know who did it? Did they see you?"

"I'm fine." Lied Sarai. "I don't know a name, but I could probably describe him. I ran as soon as I realized what was happening. I ran and kept running." Sarai's talent for convincing lies was getting a workout as she tried to deflect any concern that might be had for her.

María petted Sarai's hair soothingly. "You'll be fine, Mija. I'm going to go call your mother. Don't worry, we'll figure this out."

Sarai buried her face in the pillow as the woman hurried out of the room. Her quiet sobs were absorbed by the fabric as she let out the shame she'd been hiding.

Paris.

The two of them were on another major assignment, only this one was far more dangerous. He hadn't learned anything new since the last time he'd seen the woman from Queens, chameleon as he called her since she seemed to switch her looks, voice, and personality every time he saw her. He still suspected a connection between the her and his partner, but it was only a feeling. The phone in their little apartment rang, and he picked up, mind still on the chameleon. "Bonjour?"

"Is Jennifer there?" asked a small voice, wavering slightly, thin with fear or something else like it. Gibbs recognized it, even though it was very different, as the voice of the Queens assassin and perked up.

"No, can I take a message?"

"I don't…No…at least…She said she'd be there." The voice said, helpless and uncertain. Gibbs wondered why she was so nervous. "No, I'll just call back later."

Just then Jen strode into the room. Gibbs hurried to speak. "Hold on, she just came in." he handed the phone over. "It's for you." Then he got up and left the room, listening carefully from the other side of the door. Unfortunately, his effort was wasted. Jen was speaking in Hebrew, a language that Gibbs knew nothing about, nor had he realized that Jen could speak it. He did know about tones though, and Jen's tones were becoming more and more pained, anxious. He heard her hang up and stepped back into the room. Jen was leaning against the wall, listlessly, her head in her hands. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

She looked up, anger and pain on her features. "Nothing. I've got to go." She slammed the door on the way out. He sighed. He was never going to figure this out, was he? At least he knew she was connected now. His eyes strayed to an envelope on the window sill. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. A newspaper clipping fell out. He unfolded it and read.

No Progress in Suicide Alley Case, read the headline. Eight days ago, two people were discovered in a Virginia alleyway with extensive stab wounds. NIS has yet to release the identities of the victims, but one of them is rumoured to be the retired Navy commander, Jasper Sheppard. Currently, all that is known is that one victim is an older male, and the other is a teenage girl. The girl was still alive when they were found by Mr. Patrick Hendrickson, a banker. Ambulances showed up in a matter of minutes, but the girl passed away on the operating table. It was originally suggested that these deaths were some sort of suicide pact based on the style of stabbing, but new evidence has come to light that the two were murdered. No information is known about who the girl might be or where she came from.

He frowned, recognizing Jen's father's name. If her father was dead, surely that meant something, and perhaps the Queens assassin had realized too late who her victim was. No, that didn't make sense, but what else was there? She could be the Jane Doe, except the Jane Doe was a child, and there was no way any teenager could kill with that much skill and cold-bloodedness. He sighed with frustration and put the article back in its envelope, not noticing the loose scrawl on the other side of it. –Razi can't remember.-

Jen hurried straight to the hospital from the airport, asking after her daughter's room. She strode down the hallways until she came to the door, then she froze. Another woman, dark and beautiful, sat next to the sixteen year old's sleeping form. She bit her lip and pushed aside the sliding door, stepping into the room. The other woman looked up. "I'm glad you could make it, Jennifer." She said, her Israeli accent dramatically altering the English.

"Call me Jen." Replied the red-head. "Nothing could have kept me away. Is she alright?" Jen sat down next to Sarai, her hand reaching out and taking the teenager's.

"She's doing better. The miscarriage took a lot out of her, and she still has nightmares sometimes, they say, but when she's awake, you wouldn't know anything had happened." Ivanna sighed. "You don't have to be so nervous around me, Jen. I'm not the jealous type, and, to be honest, I admire you for how well you've managed all these years. She's a wonderful girl."

Jen smiled. "Thank you Ivanna. I admire you as well. And I owe you a lot." She bit her lip again, eyes on her daughter. "I feel helpless. This is all my fault."

"It is not!" replied Ivanna sharply. "You stumbled across something, that's all. You couldn't have known this would happen."

"He killed my father, and raped and stabbed my daughter." Swore Jen passionately. "I could have done something if I'd ever been there for them. I...I could have been there."

"Stop blaming yourself!"

"You've never come so close to losing a daughter, Ivanna! Your girls are so much safer than my baby. They have all of Mossad looking after them. All Sarai has is me, and I'm gone so much."

"She doesn't blame you, so neither should…"

A small sound interrupted the two women. Sarai was awaking slowly. Her eyes fluttered open, glancing over and doing a double take. "Mamá!" she gasped, sitting up quickly. She threw her arms around Jen's neck. "Oh, Mamá, you came! I missed you, so much."

Jen hugged her daughter, struggling with her tears. "I'm not going to leave again, Raz, I promise. I'll stay with you."

"No! What you do, it's so important."

"Nothing is more important than you, Sarai." Replied Jen, wrathfully. "And I swear, I'll find who did this to you."

Ivanna looked on, smiling at the mother-daughter reunion. "We already know who did it, dear. And he's not going to go unpunished. I should go, the girls will be getting home soon, and I should be there when they do."

"Thank you, Ivanna." Whispered Jen. Sarai waved goodbye to her step-mother, then turned back to Jen. "I'm here to take you back to Virginia, Raz. The nurses say you're ready to go home. Are you ready?"

Sarai nodded. "I'll be ready to go in a few minutes."

"Alright. I'll be waiting just out in the lobby." She kissed the girl's forehead and stepped out, maternal instincts raging inside her.

Jen was perched in a tree, waiting, when Jacob Tehran appeared. Eli Davíd had sent the operative out to Virginia on a false assignment. Jen aimed her gun at his stomach and fired. Jacob fell to the ground, writhing in pain, and Jen leaped to the ground, standing over him. "You should not have touched my daughter." She said coldly. "That was a mistake."

"You shouldn't have tried to look into our activities." He gasped back, fading fast.

"I really don't give a damn about that anymore. I just care that you hurt my little girl, and for that, you'll pay." She leveled her weapon at him and the gun spat out four rounds, one in each arm and leg. Jen had no pity for the man, only a desire to torture him to death. As it was, she could see the life-light leaving his eyes so she took aim one last time. "Burn in hell, you son of a bitch!" she spat, and fired a round through his forehead. His eyes glazed over instantly and she kicked him in the head, vindictively. "May you be judged for who you truly are." She murmured and kicked his body into a nearby ditch. She stuck a match and dropped it on his body, walking away from the funeral pyre, unrepentant.

Sarai stood in the cemetery, watching as an American flag was draped over her grandfather's casket. The anonymity afforded to her by a Muslim woman's heavy black veil was the only reason she was here. She touched the necklace at her throat, choking back tears. She saw her mother standing near the front of the grieving crowd, her face drawn and pale. Sarai stepped carefully through the graves as the men and women around her grandfather's grave dispersed. She pulled a single Stainless Steel rose, it's delicate lavender centre fading into pure white, from her wrap and dropped it onto the freshly dug earth as she passed. "Rest easy Grandperé." She murmured. "I'll never forget you." And with that, she disappeared into the dusk, heading for home.

When she reached the Virginia house, María opened the door, drawing Sarai inside. The girl threw back her veil sadly, and María didn't have the heart to scold her for sneaking out. "Don't go into the study, Mija." Murmured the young Hispanic. "There is a gentleman there for Señorita Jennifer."

"Okay, María. I won't get you into any more trouble today." Answered Sarai in quiet Spanish. "I just wanted to go up to my room anyway."

Jenny hung up her coat as she stepped inside, sighing wearily. "There's someone here to see you, Señorita." María poked her head out of the kitchen. "Perhaps you would like to invite him to stay for dinner? It will be ready soon." Said the woman in gentle Spanish.

"No thanks, María." Replied Jen. "I'm not in the mood for guests. I'll deal with it." She headed into the study and wasn't too surprised to find Gibbs sitting across from her father's chair. "What are you doing here, Jethro?" she asked softly.

"I just came to offer my sympathies." He replied calmly.

"And to see if I would take you back? No, Jethro, I've got bigger things to deal with right now."

"Like what? Work? That never stopped you before." They both flashed back to the long nights in Paris.

"Not work, other things. Thank you for the visit, but I must ask you to leave."

Gibbs got up and stepped right up to her. "I am sorry for your loss, Jen." He murmured, then he left the room, grabbing his coat as he left. Jenny watched him go, without regret, but neither of them noticed the young girl's face at the top of the stairs. Sarai watched with curiosity as Gibbs left her house. She felt a faint, unfamiliar twist in her stomach as she observed, for the first time, the rugged good looks of the NIS agent. She curbed the attraction as she realized what she was feeling, knowing that it wasn't wise, but the path of events had already been set in motion.

Sarai perched herself provocatively on the stair rails, waiting for her target to show up, her black hair shorter than she was used to since her rape. She'd lopped it off in an attempt to forget, attempt being the key word. She felt eyes on her and turned her head a scant inch, the watching becoming the watched. She knew she looked like a prostitute, and she'd expected to have to ward off 'clients'. What she hadn't expected was to be burned. Familiar hands settled on her hips and a voice breathed in her ear, making her shiver. "I liked your hair long, Ice Queen. And dark." Whispered Michael, dragging his fingers through her blonde locks.

She leaned her head back on his shoulder, looking up at him, her green eyes laughing with a hint of annoyance. "You took my advice?" She asked, keeping her voice low and seductive. The average person on the street didn't want to listen to pillow talk. "What the hell are you doing in this part of the world, Michael?"

"I'm in favour." He replied easily. "I get the fun jobs."

"You're seventeen."

He shrugged, brushing his fingers along her sides. "So it was this or the service, forgive me for the choice."

She smiled, slipping her hand up into his hair. "You grew it out." She observed, enjoying the soft texture. "I like it better this way."

"I figured you would." He smirked. "So, what do you say?"

She sighed, dropping her hand to her side. "I'm working, Michael. I don't do freebies."

He nodded, recognizing the change in task. Her eyes were sharper, her muscles coiled, and he knew that whoever she was here to find had just appeared. He pitied the man what little of life he had left. Michael nodded and dropped his mouth to hers briefly, holding his own against her lips. "Maybe later." He said huskily, striding away. But Sarai knew he wouldn't be far, waiting either to assist her or for her to finish so they could talk more.

She smiled flirtatiously at the man who approached her, his eyes lingering more on her body than her face, which was probably a mistake on his part. "Hey." She murmured, sliding off the rail.

He looked her over, carefully, and she tipped her chin up proudly under his gaze. Her cover was that of a whore, but not a cheap one. She was dressed to seduce, not sell. "You busy?" he asked gruffly, a packet of bills peeking out of his jacket pocket before vanishing again.

She took note of the numbers on the bills and the expensive clothes then moved gracefully to perch herself on his arm. "No." she replied, guiding him up the apartment steps. She closed and locked the door behind them and stepped up to him, pulling the peasant blouse over her head. She pushed him up against the wall, letting him slide her bra straps down her shoulders. She felt his arms coil around her narrow waist, fingers climbing up her spine to unclasp her bra. He froze, and his eyes flashed open, but it was too late. The cold metal knife he'd felt under his fingertips was at his throat. Sarai jerked the knife forward, grazing her own neck with the edge. He crumpled and she unlocked herself from his arms as he fell, stepping away from the body. She slipped back into her top and waited a half an hour before leaving, striding calmly down the street.

Michael fell into step with her at the corner. "Why'd you get set on the poor bastard?" he asked in Hebrew.

"He belongs to a terrorist group from the Gaza Strip and he has a weakness for women." Replied Sarai, the Hebrew sounding sharp to her ears, now used to the softer intonations of English. "What are you doing here, Michael?" she asked again.

"Looking for you." Her stride faltered, but only for a second. "I've been wanting to talk to you since my father died."

Now she did stop walking, yanking him into a dark walkway between buildings. "If you're here to tell me how sorry you are, et cetera, so help me God…" she hissed, her eyes flinty.

"I'm here to tell you that I'm the one who turned him in." he interrupted. "I found some papers in his desk, and when I realized what they were, I went to the Director. I as good as killed my own father." There was both pain and fury in his voice, and her eyes softened.

"It's not your fault, Michael. It…If…If it helps any, it was a mistake." She told him timidly. "Things were never supposed to turn out that way."

"It doesn't help." Growled Michael, pulling her close to him. "My own father, and I didn't see it. Didn't see that he was a traitor and worse, that he would…hurt anyone like that. But especially you, Areille."

Sarai closed her eyes, curling her fingers into his arms. "It takes more than a rogue operative to take me down. I've had better training than that." Damn right she had, combat training, languages, stealth, survival, weapons, and intel gathering, ever since she was six years old. But even at fifteen, almost sixteen, she hadn't been quite a match for a full grown rogue operative. She'd made sure she would be since then, though. No one would beat her now, she was sure of it. She wouldn't let it happen. She wouldn't ever fall prey to the terror that still ate at her when she wasn't careful. She couldn't. "I'm the best." She said out loud, more needing to convince herself than anyone else.

"You always were." He agreed. " And I've still got the scars to prove it." She laughed quietly, the tension lightening as she remembered their lessons together. "So, about my following your advice…" he hinted, hopefully.

Sarai's smile faded. "I don't have much time for a personal life. And you're going places. I'm not. No reason to hold yourself back."

He frowned, annoyed. "Are you always going to be like this Areille?" he demanded. "Always holding back, never letting yourself get close to anyone?"

Unbidden, her mind flew to the handsome NIS agent that she knew was trying to figure her out. She shut down that thought, resteeling her heart. "Yes." she replied coolly.

"Did you ever care, or were you just playing?"

"I care about you the same way I care about Tali and Ziv." She sighed, kissing his cheek. "I would give my life for any one of you and I will love you until the day I die, but as a brother. Falling in love simply isn't in the cards for me. Not with you, not with anyone." Michael looked disappointed, but he nodded and they continued down the road together. Little did Sarai know, as she laughed and chatted with her old friend, that love would hit her sooner than she could imagine.

Silvery blonde hair fanned out under the twenty year old's head, the sheets wrapped tightly around her. She felt bare without her silver necklace, but she couldn't afford to wear it right now. She sighed, climbing out of bed and slid a nightdress over her body, stepping out onto the balcony of her small apartment. She gazed out at the Russian skyline, knowing that, somewhere nearby, the three agents she was tailing were restless as well, though perhaps for different reasons. She shivered as a breeze sprang up, sending her hair dancing around her face. She grabbed her phone, tucking it under her ear as she waited for the other line to be picked up.

"Yes?"

"He's suspicious." She spoke the Russian as easily as her other languages. "Only him. Your other partner is excellent, but he still needs work."

"I already knew that." Sighed Jen.

"Yes, well, what you didn't know is that I'm not the only one tailing you. A blonde, definitely not one of ours. Careful with her, she's got the swagger of a good operative. There's one for each of you, one woman, two men, and they're well armed."

Jen was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. That's all I needed to know."

"I'm staying low for a while. If he's too focused on me, he won't be aiming his bullets where they need to be going." She smirked. "And I happen to be a blonde also. Good luck."

Jen hung up the phone, setting it back on its hook. She turned to face the two men she was working with, leaning against the small table. "We're being followed." She declared.

"I already knew that, Jen." Said Gibbs, not looking up from the card game in between him and the youngest agent. "She's slipping."

"Let it go, Jethro." She sighed, muttering under her breath. "Slipping my ass, I swear, the girl wants to be seen."

"What?" he asked, curiously.

"Nothing. Three agents. One female, two male. A perfect match."

"Or so they think." Chuckled Callen.

"If she's involved, we're out-numbered." Warned Gibbs, finally setting his down cards and looking up. He swore when Callen, the youngest of the three agents, trumped his hand.

"Who?" asked Callen.

"Jen's assassin friend." Replied Gibbs, provocatively.

"Oh, go screw yourself." Bristled the woman.

"Jen's friends with a lady assassin?" The young man perked up. Maybe the group leader was more interesting than she appeared.

"Don't listen to a word he says, Callen, he's just trying to annoy me." Jen sat down at the small table. "Deal me in."

"Alright, if she's not the one tailing us, what the hell is she doing here?"

"Joint assignment?" Offered Callen.

"She's an assassin." Protested Gibbs. "Since when has NCIS ever worked with the CIA?"

"Let it go, you're obsessing over something that's out of your control."

A grim smile flitted across Sarai's face as she felt Gibbs catching up to her. "May I help you?" She asked sweetly.

Gibbs shrugged as they walked alongside each other, replying with almost as much ease as her despite Russian being his weakest language. "I've been seeing you around town lately. You seem familiar somehow."

She laughed. "I'm flattered that you would remember me after six years. You have quite a memory."

"So you are following us." He said lightly, not wanting the people around them to start listening in.

"No, I'm simply here to enjoy myself." She replied, flashing another smile. "All pleasure, no business."

"Oh?" he cast an appraising glance over her, noting the simple elegance with which she was dressed.

"Wrong pleasure." Laughed Sarai, tucking a lock of hair back into place. "Sight-seeing." She gestured to the bustling world around them.

"You've got your sights, I've got mine." He replied easily. "What have you been up to?"

"Absolutely nothing." It was somewhat true after all. She had spent much of the last four years either training or goofing off on assignment, just for the sake of rebellion. "I've been visiting family you see."

"I never pegged you as sentimental." He told her thoughtfully.

"And I didn't peg you as the kind to flirt with a woman whose name you don't know." She teased.

"I figured you'd tell me when you felt like it." He said, perfectly content. They'd stopped walking and were lingering outside one of Russia's beautiful palaces, throngs of tourists pushing past them and completely ignoring the odd couple. "Am I right?"

"Perhaps you are." She agreed thoughtfully. "But would you believe me if I told you?"

"Only one way to find out."

"Razi." She said quietly. "My name is Razi."

"It suits you." He told her in the same tone.

Sarai nodded. "More than you can imagine." She agreed.

"You look really nice today Raz." His low voice sent shivers up her spine and suddenly she couldn't speak. Gibbs brushed his fingers along her cheek. She trembled under the touch, her stomach twisting with an unfamiliar emotion. "You always look beautiful." What the hell was he doing? Playful banter was one thing, and perfectly harmless, but to actually reach out and touch her? Was he crazy? She was beautiful though, he hadn't been lying about that. She'd been beautiful before as well, but there was something new today, something that drew him and was making him do such stupid things.

"You've only seen me twice before." She murmured, eyes slightly glazed. "How would you know about always?" Jesus, what was happening to her? She'd always been good at flirting, so why was her throat dry and her mind empty?

"Maybe I don't, but that doesn't change my opinion." He smiled, eyes sparkling with laughter at the delicate ripples that ran through her body from his simply touching her cheek. "You want to go inside?" he asked, brushing her hair back.

"Huh?" she was feeling a little dizzy and wasn't sure what he was talking about.

He laughed. "Sight-seeing, remember?" Gibbs led her inside, and they wandered around with the rest of the tourists, his arm sitting loosely around her waist.

Gibbs wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but it felt comfortable and right at least. He glanced down at the young woman next to him who was subconsciously leaning into him, and realized that whatever was making him do this, it was probably a bad idea. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and looked up. When she saw him watching her, she smiled, and it was sweet and innocent, and he had to smile back. He always seemed to end up in relationships while on assignment, and they never lasted once he was back in DC. The parting usually came as a relief for everyone involved, and very rarely caused any harm as long as he didn't marry his lover. She'd gone back to staring in awe at everything around them, from the domes high over their heads to the tapestries and paintings on the walls. Gibbs stifled a laugh. She was like a kid in a candy shop here, and he found it quite amusing.

Sarai tried to take everything in at once, glad she'd used the sight-seeing excuse. As much as she traveled the world, she didn't usually get to see the places she was visiting, and Moscow was incredible. She could hardly contain her excitement and the familiarity with which they walked told her that she didn't really have to. She felt him bury his face in her hair for a second and her smile grew. Perhaps this was a relationship she could indulge in. Sure it would end with the assignment, but that was probably for the best. And she already knew that love affairs were Gibbs's specialty; short, sweet, and fun. So why not? She let herself relax into him, her head resting near his heart, and smiled up at him again. And there was something in his eyes that told her that his mind was traveling down similar channels to hers. She looked up at him thoughtfully. "What are you thinking Agent Gibbs?" she asked softly, reaching up to touch the stress-lightened hair at his temples. "Because you have a choice to make right now, what'll it be?"

"Well, I guess that depends." He replied carefully. "What are my options?"

"I've got an apartment a few streets over." She told him. "You know what I am, what I do. You can come home with me, you can walk away like this never happened, or you can make that call to your Director and tell him you're bringing home a killer. It's your call."

She lay on top of him with her head resting on his chest, breathing heavily. "I like your choice, Agent Gibbs." She purred, her body still sated and full from his caresses.

"Jethro." He corrected, pressing his lips to her throat. "If I get to call you by your first name, you get to call me by mine."

"Your first name is Leroy." She laughed.

"But I go by Jethro." He pointed out. Gibbs slid his hands up her back and into her hair, dragging her mouth down to his.

Their lips moved together languidly for a while and she moaned as he responded, still buried deep in her core. "Don't you ever get tired?" she breathed as he rolled her underneath him again.

"You already know I'm a marine." He murmured huskily. "Marine's don't get tired."

"So I'm learning." She gasped, beginning to react to his well-placed touches. "But I will, eventually. I am no marine, I'm just a killer, remember?"

"No." he shook his head, lips brushing across her collarbone. "No, you're not. Assassins do their homework, but they don't have the kind of resources you had to have to track me Raz. Nor do they trail someone for six weeks without making a move."

"I told you, I'm not...."

"Save it." He was working her body at the same time as he was working her mind, and she couldn't believe how hard it was to think with every nerve in her body screaming at his touches. She could tell it was difficult for him too, but somehow he managed to stay in control while she fought for the ability to breathe. "You may be a killer, but that's not all you are." She was panting too hard to speak now, and he moved his hand up to her cheek slowly, tipping her head back so that her throat was exposed and vulnerable to him. "I know a spook when I see one Razi and you're a damn good one. I respect that, but I have a question, and I want the truth. Who do you work for? CIA? KGB? Who?"

"I work for no agency." She gasped out, pleasure making her body move involuntarily underneath him. "Please, I can't...." But she couldn't find the words to finish the sentence, and suddenly her brain shut down.

"Let yourself go." She heard his voice, low and beautiful through the blackness, and obeyed instinctively, desperate for something to guide her. "Good girl." His lips brushed her cheek as he spoke and he ran a finger along her neck. "Finish for us." He ordered gently. She reached down, trembling fingers fluttering around their connected bodies, and his lips curved into a smile against her skin. "You've been well-trained by someone, haven't you baby girl?"

"Jethro...." she whimpered, lips parted with soft desperation. She cried out when he gave one last thrust, biting down on the taut skin of her throat at the same time. Shudders rolled through her whole body and she arched into him, panting desperately. He collapsed on top of her, groaning at her delighted sigh as she accepted his pleasure into her body. He rolled off of her this time, pulling her close so that she could rest her head on his chest. "You should be an interrogator." She laughed shakily, curling into him tightly.

"I am." He reminded her, kissing the top of her head softly. "And I've still got questions."

"No way." She said firmly. "You know more than enough as it is." His hand drifted down to her still-aching sex, and she looked up at him wildly. "You wouldn't." She whispered, not at all sure that was true.

"Try me." He retorted, his expression unreadable, even to her. "My questions?"

"I'll do my best." She agreed quickly.

"You work freelance?"

She shook her head. "Family business. Sometimes I go out on loan though."

"So it's money, then." Sighed Gibbs. He couldn't respect someone who's loyalty was for sale.

Sarai pushed away from him, disgusted. "No!" she exclaimed. "No! I am not some weapon, bought and paid for! I serve my country, just like you. I am an off-the-books last resort, that's all."

He smiled in relief, dragging her back to him and kissing her softly. She surrendered her control to him and let him fold her up in his arms. "I didn't mean to offend you." He soothed. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"This is sex, Jethro." She reminded him gently. "We don't need to understand each other, just the circumstances. I know that you're a good man with a job that suits you, and you know that I'm a spy and a killer. That's all we need to know. If we get any more personal than that, we run the risk of getting attached in some way."

"I can't do that Razi." He told her quietly. "I can't make love to you and walk away like it means nothing. Even if it is just sex, it means something."

She gazed at him for a second then got up and slid her nightdress back over her head, setting his clothes back on the bed. "Then go home." She replied. Her voice was cool, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was intrigued by his statement.

Her eyes followed the flex of his muscles as he got out of bed and pulled on his jeans, then they widened with surprise when he stepped up to her, forcing her back against the wall. She swallowed, fear flashing in her eyes before she masked it and became her own, confident self again, but not before he saw it. "That would be walking away." He pointed out. "I think you want me to walk away like you mean nothing. I think you need to be used and discarded. You don't know what to do with the idea that you might be worth something to someone." She raised her chin defiantly, but again her eyes gave away her pain at his words. "Why would a girl like you get involved in this life, even if it is a family business, without a reason?"

"I'm a woman, not a child." She said, uncertain and evasive.

"That's true." He conceded, pressing his palm to her cheek and kissing her softly. "But you still must have a reason. I do, my partners do, everyone I know in this business has a reason. What's yours?"

She bit her lip and pulled open the drawer to the nightstand beside them, taking out a small velvet box and handing it to him. She watched while he opened it and he glanced down at her sharply. "If you tell me that you're doing God's work...." He warned, but she cut him off.

"It's not the faith, it's the man who gave the gift." She explained. He felt his heart sink inexplicably at this mention of another man that meant so much to her. "He never wanted this for me, tried to take me away from it every day, but I was too young and too caught up in it all to realize the favour he was doing me. He gave me this right before I left Quantico to train and told me that I had to stay true to myself and this would remind me because faith was the one thing no one else could decide for me. I didn't understand at all, and I didn't see him again for over three years. When I came back, I was someone else entirely, and I could tell he was disappointed in me. I got so mad that he wanted me to deny my heritage, he wanted me to be a teacher, for God's sake! We grew apart, and then, about a year later, he was dead."

"He die LOD?" asked Gibbs gently, knowing that she hadn't spoken to anybody about this in a while.

She shook her head. "Murdered. By an intelligence cell. He was a good man and didn't deserve to die, but certainly he shouldn't have died like that."

"You loved him."

"Very much." She agreed sadly, than glanced up. "But not like that. He helped raise me. Grandperé gave me this necklace." She clarified for him. "So now you know. You've gotten what you wanted, as I suspect you always do. Are you happy?"

"I'm glad you trust me." He corrected. "But I'm sorry you hurt so much. You don't have to punish yourself for his death you know, I'm sure he wouldn't want you to." His hands settled on her hips and he tipped his forehead down to hers, feeling her breaths come a little faster as his heady scent filled her mind. "Maybe this is just sex, but I'm damned if I let you use me to punish yourself. Every life matters, Razi, including yours. Let me prove that to you."

"Okay." She breathed, confusion in her eyes.

"Good." He let go of her, pulling his shirt back over his head as he moved away. Hurt flashed across her face and he laughed. "I'm coming back, baby girl." He promised, touching his finger to her lips. "But I've got to get back to my partners before they give me up for dead. I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?"

She nodded and he slipped into his coat, pulling her in for one last kiss. Sarai flattened her hands against his chest, pushing him back gently. "Go." She murmured. "I'm staying low for a while, you made me too easily, and it might take the others a little longer, but they'll figure it out eventually. I'll be here." Her phone started ringing shrilly, and she winced, turning her emerald eyes to the buzzing cell resignedly and then back to him. "Go now. You can't be here when I pick that up." She warned him. He turned and strode out of the apartment quickly, but he paused for a moment just outside the door, listening. His expression became grim when he heard her soft voice. "Shalom Eli." He started walking again, having heard enough to tell him what he'd been wondering. His new lover was a Mossad ghost.

"Where've you been?" asked Jen suspiciously. "You look like you've just won the lottery."

"Or got laid." Added Callen, looking up from his cards. "He's been coming back like that for a couple of months now. You'd better hope the girlfriend's not getting too involved, man, we're going home soon."

"Go to hell G." Said Gibbs good-naturedly, grinning as he sat down at the table.

Callen dealt him in, ignoring the advice. "So what's she look like, your mystery girl? Gotta be something else to make you look like that."

"Like the Hunchback of Notre Dame." Joked Gibbs. "Only half as pretty."

"You ever going to let us see her?"

"Probably isn't a her, Callen." Said Jen, eyebrows raised. "Got a special reason for leaving the corps, Jethro?"

Gibbs glowered at her, throwing back the answer that would most irritate her. "I'd promised my wife I wouldn't reenlist." That shut her up. "Anyway, girlfriend and I have a deal."

"You, of all people, are having an affair?" Callen didn't bother to hide his surprise.

"Nah, Shannon's long gone." Replied the older agent. Jen was still pale and silent, not sure that 'long gone' covered the time four years ago when she'd been sleeping with him. It did, but he didn't intend to tell her that.

"Oh. So what's the deal?"

"Men!" growled Jen, stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

The two men ignored her outburst, and kept playing. "Better drop that seven heart." Advised Gibbs, leaving Callen to wonder how he always knew these things.

Gibbs sat at the little table in Sarai's apartment, gazing thoughtfully at the coffee in his hand. He glanced over at the bed where she lay, fast asleep, and took a sip from his cup, glad she made black coffee. It helped him think, and right now, thinking was exactly what he needed to do. He'd done some more listening over the last few months, pretending to be asleep while she was on the phone, and while he didn't understand what she said, he could read her tones. Whoever she was talking to was frustrating her to no end, and she would forgive them only to get annoyed again the next time she called. He had yet to confront her about the phone calls, but he had a feeling she already knew he'd been listening. At the moment, though, that wasn't what worried him. His goal in all this had at first been to have a little fun with the more than willing Israeli spy, then it had changed to helping a young woman stop punishing herself for something in her past, but now he knew it wasn't either of those. He hadn't felt this way about a woman in a long time, and it scared him a little. He'd remarried once since Shannon's death, but that had fizzled out quickly and somehow this felt different. He wasn't sure what he should do. The two of them had agreed long ago that what they were doing was sex, nothing more, but it wasn't like that for him anymore. He smiled grimly as a thought crossed his mind. This was what it felt like to be on the other side of the coin, in love with someone you knew didn't love you back. He froze. Had he really just used the words 'in love with'? Even in his own private thoughts? No, he couldn't think that way, because it was a surefire way to get crushed again. Maybe he loved her, but he wasn't in love with her. Normal love could fade with time, being in love with someone was forever. He'd never be in love with anyone again, it wasn't worth the pain when things fell apart. He glanced up in surprise when small hands slipped over his shoulders from behind, he hadn't realized that she'd woken up. "Hey, Raz." He murmured as she sat down in his lap, running her hands over his chest.

"I'm going home soon." She told him quietly.

"To Israel?" He asked, figuring he might as well get some answers if she already knew about his eavesdropping.

"Yeah." She gazed at him with sad green eyes. "To Israel. How long have you known?"

"I suspected that first day, but knowing for sure?" He shrugged. "A few weeks in. When do you leave?"

"Same time as you, probably. I've been gone so long." She murmured absently. "My little sisters are women now, all grown up, and our friends are all following in their parents' footsteps, just like we are. It's going to feel so strange being back there."

He petted her hair comfortingly. "Home is still home." He pointed out, feeling a little disappointed by the knowledge that he was running short on time. "It won't take long to readjust. Is there anything waiting for you when you get back?"

"Um, yeah, yeah, I'll be staying with my sister until I can get an apartment, and I've got work already."

"Good. I'm glad." He was suddenly hyperaware of the tension crackling in the air around them and by the embarrassment in her eyes, so was she.

"Jethro...," She began hesitantly. She stopped for a second and took a deep breath before starting again. "I was wondering if you'd like....I mean, maybe....Would you want to come with me?"

He stared at her in disbelief. Would he want to go with her? Of course. But could he go with her, that was a question he wasn't sure he had the answer to. Every moment of silence made the hopeful light in her eyes fade a little more and he made himself speak. "I don't think I can Razi." He said slowly. "I've got a life waiting for me in DC, I can't just leave it behind." Too late, he realized that she might take this to mean he had someone waiting for him as well.

"Oh, okay." She moved to get up, keeping her face carefully blank, but he held her in place.

Gibbs leaned in to kiss her gently and she kissed him back, relaxing into him as always. "I'd like to, but I don't think I can, baby girl." He clarified.

She still avoided his eyes when she pulled back, and he knew she was ashamed of putting herself forward the way she had. He wished he could make her understand, but telling her he might or might not be in love with her would only hurt her more in the end. "Sorry, it was just a thought. Forget about it."

"Never apologize."

She smiled sadly. "It's a sign of weakness." She finished. "I know."

"I should probably head out soon Razi." He said, trying to change the subject. "We're trying to wrap things up so we can go home in the next couple of weeks."

"I know." She repeated, moving to get up again, and this time he let her go.

"I keep forgetting that you know everything." He laughed, watching her robe fall to the floor as she got dressed. His eyes widened when he saw the weapons she was strapping on before pulling on her jeans and blouse. "Expecting trouble?"

"I've been in Moscow for over four months." She replied grimly. "It's about damn time I did something, don't you think? And if you three are heading home soon, it's almost time for my debut. I'd tell you to stay away the next time you see me out of this apartment, but I don't think you'd listen."

"No, I wouldn't. So you're here to help us then?"

"Always was." She agreed. "But after this assignment, I think I'm going to stay in Israel. I miss my family."

"You're very sentimental for a spy, you know that?" he chuckled, walking over and picking up one of her knives.

He turned the knife over in his hand, watching the light hit the blade, and she glanced at him curiously. "It changes things when you see it for yourself, doesn't it?" she asked quietly. "The fact is, I am a killer, it's what I was trained for, it's what my sisters have been trained for, what most Israeli children learn to be at some point. But it's one thing for you to know that, and another entirely for you to see the proof right in front of you. Will I still see you tonight?"

"Of course." He replied promptly. "You don't scare me, Raz."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Then you're not as smart as I thought you were." She teased. "You'd do well to be a little scared. I'm dangerous, even to you."

"Nah, you wouldn't shoot me." He said confidently.

"Maybe not on purpose." She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, and he grabbed her around the waist.

"What was that?" he growled playfully.

Sarai turned her head to capture his mouth casually. "Nothing at all, sir." She purred against his lips. "Now go play soldier, I'll see you again soon enough." He kissed her cheek and left.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaustion replacing her playful expression. What was happening to her? It wasn't like her to stop thinking like that. Why had she asked him to come with her? They'd agreed that this would be something that ceased to exist as soon as they parted ways, so why did she feel the pain of rejection washing over her, and why could she never think about her return to Israel without her heart cracking just a little more? It would be good for her to be away from him. It was just the stress of being undercover combined with the hormones of sex, it wasn't real. But, God, she wanted it to be. He'd been right that first day when he'd said that she needed to be used and tossed aside. She didn't really want that, but it was all she was used to, and that he had refused to discard her was frightening and new. For five years, she'd been trying desperately to feel something other than Jacob Tehran, but the men she slept with meant nothing, and so when it was over, she only felt used and hurt and Jacob's face was still there, cold and cruel as he watched her bleed. But Gibbs had forced her to talk to him, had refused to let her remain distant and two dimensional, and she'd felt beautiful when he made love to her. Beautiful, safe, and wanted. All three were feelings she hadn't had in a long time, and whatever it was about him that inspired them, she knew deep down it was something she could never escape from. When she'd seen him at sixteen from the stairs of her mother's house, she'd felt something, and when she'd stood with him outside the palace that first day, it had come back again. She was in love and she knew it, but he didn't feel the same, and she wouldn't expose herself to more heartbreak, made a hundred times worse by the fact that this was love, not a one-night-stand that hadn't progressed any further. She wouldn't let emotions get the better of her, not after all the work she'd put into her self-control. She wasn't in love with him, and she would prove it.

Jen and another woman faced off, both waiting for something, some trigger that would set of the hail of bullets, but Jen saw what she was waiting for first. "You've been following us Natasha."

"The Soviet Union doesn't appreciate being spied on after all this time, Jennifer." The other woman threw back.

"And I really don't appreciate having to come in for intervention." Chimed in Sarai sweetly. She gestured for Natasha to put down her gun. "Don't make me shoot you, it would really be a sad waste of talent and beauty. I do understand these things you know."

Natasha knelt slowly, hands raised as she dropped her weapon. "Happy?" she asked resentfully.

Sarai smiled brightly. "Delighted." She replied. "I'm glad you see reason, and I hope that we can continue this little streak. See, we're going to need to get you out of this party and I'd rather you did it under your own steam."

"You mock me!" hissed the other blonde. Natasha froze when Sarai took her necklace out of her pocket and clasped it around her neck. "What have we done to Israel lately, little Jew?"

"That, for starters." Shrugged Sarai coldly. "Didn't they ever teach you not to antagonize a woman holding a gun to your head? My finger might just..." she couldn't help the little twitch at the trigger. "Slip. I assure you, you wouldn't like that."

"If I leave Russia alive, I won't stay that way for long." Pleaded the woman.

"So you'd rather I kill you now? How brave."

"Hey!" Sarai caught Jen's warning just as Natasha lunged for the red-head. She stumbled and fell before she'd so much as touched Jen, dead before she hit the ground.

Sarai stared at the dead woman, mingled pity and disgust in her eyes. She didn't look at her mother as she stuck her seven-shot into the waist of her jeans. "Papí called. I promised I'd go home. He wants me to train the girls and start working with Michael."

"I know you hate it when assignments end this way." Sighed Jen. Sarai dragged her fingers through her hair, not bothering to answer. "Come here honey."

"Come here honey." Gibbs was surprised to hear Jen's voice so soft. He paused at the edge of the door, glancing through it, and saw Jen holding Sarai close and petting her hair. The red-head kissed the younger woman's forehead and Gibbs saw a tear tumble down his lover's cheek. "I love you. So much, Raz. I'm so proud of you for all you've accomplished, but I wish you wouldn't go back to Tel Aviv."

"Same, Jen." Sniffed the blonde, clinging to her. "It's just...home doesn't feel safe right now, you know? I needed to work, it made me feel better."

"Just consider coming home sweetheart." Murmured Jen. Sarai nodded and Gibbs was stunned. Jen and Razi as lovers? It couldn't be, and yet there was his proof. He spun on his heel and strode away, wondering how he'd managed to get played again.

Sarai closed her eyes as his arms circled around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. "You look tired." He murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his lap. "You get into trouble after all?"

"I hate wasting talent like that." she sighed, feeling exhausted. "Oh, screw it, I hate wasting a life like that. How'd it go for you and Callen?"

"Pretty open and shut actually. Hey, I have another question."

"Jen and I are not lovers, nor were we ever, nor will we ever be." She told him, anticipating what he was going to ask. He glanced at her curiously and she rolled her eyes. "I saw you, Jethro, but don't worry, she didn't. Jenny is a friend, she has my back and I have hers, but that's all. I may be Israeli, but I was born an American citizen."

"You know me too well." He laughed quietly. "Now would you mind putting away those weapons? You're starting to worry me."

"I thought I didn't scare you." She teased, laying back on the covers. "Prove it. Come and get them." She smiled as he obeyed with a playful growl.

He dragged her blouse over her head and kissed his way along her skin from her fingertips to her collarbone to the waist of her jeans, carefully removing anything he found on his way and dropping them to the floor by their bed. "That all?" he asked, teasing her neck with soft kisses.

"Lower." She breathed dreamily. "Hip, ankle, calf."

He pushed her jeans off, checking each of the places she'd mentioned, and stayed low. He covered her core with his hand, enjoying the dampness against his palm. "How good are you at following orders baby girl?" he asked seductively.

"Depends on what they are and who's giving them." She replied evasively. "Why?"

"I've got a few for you, if you want them." He told her, his low voice sending thrills up her spine. She nodded mutely, gazing down at him. "Close your eyes and stay where I put you." Her eyes fell shut as she relaxed her body, and he moved her hips and legs to suit his purpose. "Say everything that comes to your mind, no filters." He pressed his lips to her belly and stroked her inner thighs lightly, drifting upward, tantalizingly close to her sex, but never quite there. At first, the only sound in the room was her soft panting and whimpering, but when he finally brushed up against the bundle of nerves at her core, she let out a sharp exclamation in Hebrew. "English, Razi." He warned.

"I don't think there's a translation." She gasped, pushing against the mattress underneath her. "God, what are you doing?" she pleaded desperately.

"If I told you, you wouldn't need me to do it anymore." He teased gently. "I'm just touching sweetheart, I promise." He pushed up suddenly, slipping two fingers past her initial resistance, and she cried out as he hit her most sensitive spot. He didn't move for a second, giving her a chance to breathe again, and then began working his fingers slowly against her. She purred encouragements and pleas to him, unable to think clearly enough to filter her words anyway, but the first part of his orders was the part she was beginning to have trouble with. She was desperate to open her eyes and see what he was doing to her, and the way he'd arranged her made it impossible for her to touch him. She wanted to kiss him, to hear him whisper sweet words to her while he made love to her. Before she even realized it, the words were out. She couldn't even recognize the trembling, pleading voice that said them, but she saw him smile at her and his touches disappeared from inside her. He slid back up her body, capturing her mouth with soft dominance. "Whatever you want Beautiful." He rasped, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking off his jeans. Her lips parted to let him in and he groaned softly, tangling his fingers in her hair. She tasted like cinnamon and vanilla and, for some reason, home, and he loved it, loved her. In a split second, his mind was made up, and he lifted her lips to his, exploring deeper into her mouth.

She couldn't breathe as he kissed her, didn't need to, and it felt so good and right to be in his arms right now, to be giving herself to him like this. It was worth it, even if it would break her heart to leave him tomorrow. And then he said the sweetest words she could ever have heard. "I love you Razi." He murmured. "I want to stay with you and I don't care if we're in Moscow, DC, Israel, or Quantico."

"Thank God." She breathed, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. "I love you too, God help us."

"I think He has." Gibbs shuddered, losing his train of thought, and they were both gone, floating together in a world made specifically for love.

His fingers traced random patterns on her arm as she curled into him. "We can't do it." She realized, stunned. "There literally isn't a way. I have to go back to Israel, and you have a contract in DC. It's not possible."

Gibbs kissed the top of her head softly. "We'll figure it out." he assured her, twisting a lock of hair around his finger thoughtfully. "I promise we'll figure this out. You're stuck with me now baby girl."

"God, I've fallen in love with a bastard!" laughed Sarai as she buried her head in his chest.

"My parents were married, thank you." He pointed out carelessly.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, right, I'm the bastard. Sorry."

"You are?" he glanced down in surprise. She nodded and his eyes widened with curiosity. "You related to anyone important then?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Doesn't matter." She muttered, suddenly regretting the admission. "So what's your plan?"

"Sleep now, talk in the morning." He replied promptly. "It's late, and we're both tired, but we'll make it work, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, kissing him gently and nestling closer.

"I love you Raz." He said again, liking the way the words tasted on his tongue.

She smiled, eyes closed. "I love you too Jethro."

Sarai's eyes fluttered open in the early morning light, and she smiled at the marine whose arms had protected her all night. His breathing was soft and regular and she slipped out of their bed carefully, trying not to wake him. She spent a few minutes gathering up what little she'd brought with her and stood with her hand on the door handle, trying to force herself to leave. But she'd promised him, and she couldn't hurt him that way. She set her bag down by the door and hurried over to the little end table by the bed. She grabbed a pen and paper and scrawled out a message, setting it on the pillow where her head had rested beside his the night before. She moved back to the door, but it still didn't feel like enough. Almost in a dream, she walked back to his sleeping form, unclasping her silver necklace from around her neck. She watched it fall onto the card she'd left him and leaned over, her lips brushing over his cheek as she whispered to him. "I love you Jethro." She kissed his forehead softly and left quickly, before she could think of another reason to stay.

He'd fallen asleep with his face buried in her hair, breathing in her scent, and his arm draped heavily across her waist. But when he woke, she was gone, and what little she'd had with her had vanished as well. He rolled over, swearing quietly, and then broke into a smile. Her necklace lay on the pillow, a note card underneath it. Her elegant script told him everything he needed to know about why she'd left without him.

I love you. –Razi

He got out of bed, pulling his clothes back on and slipping the card and necklace into his jeans pocket. He knew where she was, and he would find her. Besides, he would know her the minute he saw her again, and she couldn't possibly be a good enough actor to not react if she saw him. He left the apartment behind him as he headed for the airport where Jen and Callen would be waiting for him so they could all go back to DC.

(Note: If they live or have lived in Israel, they're speaking in Hebrew!)

"Ziva Davíd." Sarai smiled, black hair falling around her face in think waves as she stepped through security in Tel Aviv. She opened her arms and the nineteen year old flew into them. "You're all grown up, Mija!" she exclaimed, hugging her sister tightly. "Jesus, girl, how do your parents feel about that outfit?" she plucked at Ziva's sheer top and the girl grinned.

"They can complain all they want, but it's my life now!" cried Ziva happily. "You're lucky to be twenty one, at least your legal everywhere."

Sarai snorted derisively. "Way to remind me how young I am, Ziv. Do you have any idea how hard I've been working to forget that number?"

Ziva's eyes widened with delight. "Lela's in love!" she sang teasingly. "With an older man by the sound of it."

"Oh, shut it." Replied Sarai, but there was a softness in her eyes as she looked at her younger sister. "Come on, let's go get Tali. I've a mind to take you girls out before we start working."

Sarai jerked awake, gasping for breath, and was only a little surprised to find herself lying on Ziva's couch. She buried her head in her lap, muffling her quiet tears. What had she done? Gibbs would be back in DC by now, and likely he'd already moved on to the next woman. It had been her choice, after all, he'd asked her to stay, and she'd chosen to run instead. For the second time, she found herself stuck with the taste of a man she couldn't bear to remember, determined to rid herself of it.

"Areille?" asked Ziva sleepily. "You alright?" Sarai wiped her eyes hastily and glanced up at her younger sister. Ziva saw the red eyes and sat down next to the older girl. "You thinking about that mystery lover again?"

"No." she lied, shaking her head. "That woman's face. I don't usually look Ziv, but this one, she was scared to die, but she was even more afraid to live. It was sick."

"That's the life we live, Lela." Sighed Ziva. "As spies. Is there any other way, really?"

"Of course there is!" exclaimed Sarai, horrified. "Ziva, this is not the way the world lives! Believe it or not, there is a world out there where children are not afraid to leave their houses, where people are not suspicious of everyone around them, where war isn't the only thing the people know."

"Well it's not here, Areille, and we're here, so that doesn't really matter." Said Ziva carelessly. "What matters is that we fight to make Israel like that. Safe. It's our duty, and we're good at it. You ready to come in? Not everyone knew you back then, and most of us didn't even know you were working for Mossad, so you might get a little hassle from the older operatives. Just ignore them, we all know you're the best one for the job."

"Thanks for the confidence Mija." Murmured Sarai, getting up and stretching carefully. "Ready as ever I suppose. You?"

"Five more minutes." She replied and disappeared. Within the named time, she was back and ready to head out. "It's good to have you back Lela." She said gently. "But it isn't worth love." Sarai stared after her younger sister in shock as she walked away, her good advice hanging heavy in the air.

"Who's your new friend Ziva?" Asked a man, glancing curiously at Sarai.

"Sol, this is Areille Mizrahi. Areille, Solomon Casir." Introduced Ziva.

Solomon looked her over appreciatively. "Now I see how you got the job." He said thoughtfully.

Sarai's temper flared, and Ziva winced when her friend's expression iced over. "I do not take well to disrespect." She said frostily, her voice level and controlled. "And I'll thank you not to speak carelessly."

"Ice must be back." Came a familiar voice from behind them. "I think the building just got ten degrees colder. Welcome back Lela." Michael kissed her cheek innocently.

"Jesus, the peanut gallery's here." Muttered Solomon. "This place is going to go to the dogs." This time, both Michael and Ziva flinched and Sarai's patience ran out.

Before anyone could blink, she'd slammed him into the wall, arms pinned behind his back so that he couldn't move. "I did warn you." She told him silkily. "I will not tolerate disrespect. You'd do well to learn that, Officer Casir." She hissed the name furiously.

"Or what?" he spat, furious and embarrassed. Half of the people in the building were already watching, awed by the dark beauty who had caught the spotlight.

"Or you'll find yourself in a hospital bed." Replied Michael from a short distance away. "By the way, technically, THAT'S how she got the job. She's sort of been like this all her life."

Sarai caught sight of Eli Davíd through the crowd of people, a resigned look on his face, and she released Solomon abruptly. "Have a nice day." She said icily, and strode toward her father.

He sighed in annoyance as the crowd seemed to part in front of her. "Did you really have to start already?" he asked, leading her into his office.

"It makes an impression." She retorted as the door closed behind her. "And I am not really in the mood to deal with the attitude right now."

"You're as bad as your mother sometimes, you know that?" laughed Eli. "You look just like her when you're angry, too."

"I'll behave Papí." She promised quietly. "Just give me my orders."

"I don't want you to behave and follow orders, Sarai, I could have hired any one of my operatives for that. I want you to run things your way and argue with everything and obey orders because you think they're for the best, not because I wrote them. You're the only operative I have who has the bravery to do any of that, let alone the brains to do it right. I'm giving you the Kidon unit. Impress me."

Sarai stared at him. "You must be joking."

He shook his head. "I assure you I'm not. You're mother thinks it might be a good change for you as well as a help to Mossad. I mean every word I said."

"In that case," She shook her hair back, eyes blazing. "I have an example to make." She turned and strode out of the room.

"Damn it." Sighed Eli grimly. "I knew I should have had Vana talk to her."

A sharp whistle rang through the halls of Kidon headquarters, and everyone turned to look at Sarai where she stood in front of the gym. A shocked whisper rippled through the crowd, but no one spoke aloud. "I don't suppose many of you remember me." She said, her voice soft, yet carrying through to everyone. "Those who do, I don't expect any problems. Those who don't, I think we need to have a little chat. Who remembers Areille Mizrahi?"

A few people shifted uncomfortably, but more raised their hands. One woman smiled at her kindly. "You've been gone a while, Areille, but I don't think any of the people who worked here back then could forget you."

"Toda." She replied gratefully. "Alright, anyone who doesn't remember me, please stay, the rest of you, thank you for your time, you may go." About a third of the group left with the dismissal, but Ziva, Tahlia, and Michael lingered by the crowd, grinning wickedly. "One question for you. Does anyone have a problem taking orders from me?" No one answered, not that she'd expected them to when she phrased it that way. "Good. Next question. Anyone think they can take me?" Michael's jaw dropped, and Tahlia slapped a hand across her mouth to stifle her laughter. A few people came forward, all men, most of them in their thirties, and all of them glancing her over with mingled appreciation and amusement. She smiled at them sweetly. "Why don't you gentlemen decide amongst yourselves who's the best fighter. Who gets to take the bitch down a notch or two." Disbelief showed in everyone's faces, both at the opportunity and at Sarai's choice of words. She waited while the men came to a decision, then gestured for everyone to join her in the gym. She swung herself into the ring and pinned her waist-length hair up in a ponytail, smiling. This was the rush she'd missed. It felt almost as good as....She cut the thought off quickly. She would forget about him and replace him a thousand times with other men and with her job. "Get up here." She told the man who'd been chosen. "I'll give you three rounds. You win two or more, you've got immunity for any problems you may have with me for the rest of your career here."

"And if I win one or less?" asked the man warily.

She glanced him over. He was in his late-twenties and handsome, dark but with a hint of the American surfer-boy in the way his hair fell loosely around his face. He had potential as an operative, and obviously he was a good fighter or they wouldn't have chosen him. She shrugged carelessly. "Then you leave this room no better or worse off than you were before. What's your name?"

"Malachi BenGidon." He answered respectfully.

"How long have you been working here Officer BenGidon?"

"Two years."

She raised an eyebrow. "They voted a Probie up to fight me? How does that prove anyone's point?"

"There are only two people in this office who can beat me." He said proudly. "Officer Tahlia Davíd and Officer Michael Tehran."

Sarai shook her head in amusement. "Alright then. Can anyone in this office beat Davíd or Tehran?"

"You." Said Michael easily, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I don't feel like getting beaten today, thank you."

"Well, I guess it's settled then." Sarai pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her in her tank-top and jeans. "Ready Officer BenGidon?"

"As ever, Officer Mizrahi."

Fifteen minutes later, Malachi landed on the ground for the third time, Sarai pinning him into the ground easily. She got up and held out her hand to him. He grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet, then shook it. "Impressive." He huffed, out of breath.

She smiled and unpinned her hair, turning to the crowd that had gone silent after the beginning of the third round. "Let me make one thing damn clear to you all." She began. "I'm not interested in any personal problems you may have with me, if I give an order, I expect it to be followed. If you think I've made the wrong choice, tell me so. I don't want anyone keeping their doubts to themselves because they're worried I won't like their opinion, that kind of disrespect from a boss is what leads to dead operatives and botched missions. But if you want to pick a fight with me because I'm a woman, or because I'm younger than you, or because you just don't like taking orders from me, take some advice. Don't." she slid out of the ring and walked away, leaving everyone dumbfounded behind her.

Washington DC.

Abby Sciuto, the new forensic scientist at NCIS, was feeling incredibly weird with Gibbs standing directly behind her as she worked. "A watched fingerprint never matches, Gibbs." She said nervously. "Can't you go? I'll call you with the answer when I get it."

"No, I can't go. I need this print now, Abby." Retorted Gibbs, frustrated. "How long is this going to take?"

"There are millions of fingerprints in these systems, it could easily take twenty-four hours to find a match on one of them. At least you got a really good one. So what is she, some kind of black widow? And what language is...."

"Hebrew." He growled. "Means secret. Which is what this print is, understand?"

"Bad date?" asked Abby sympathetically.

He sighed, rubbing his temples exhaustedly. "Yeah, something like that. Please Abby, I need this to stay just between you and me."

Abby was touched by his helplessness. He'd never once in the last two years said please. "Of course. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful...." Her computer set off a frenzied beeping and she opened the search screen. "Uh oh."

"Uh oh, what uh oh?" he demanded. "I don't like the sound of uh oh."

"Your runaway date's fingerprint brought up a cold case file Gibbs." She grimaced.

"One of ours?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, but I can't open it." Said Abby apologetically. "It's an open intelligence operation and it's been classified so high a conspiracy theorist would have a fit."

"Damn." Muttered Gibbs.

"Guess this means you've got to arrest her."

"Like I could." He laughed, amused. "No, it just means I have to go old school to find her. Thanks Abbs." He turned and walked away.

"Good luck Gibbs."

Tel Aviv, Israel. Two months later

"Ice!" called Michael. He jogged over, catching up to her quickly. "Hey, what's up? You shot out of there like you were on fire."

Sarai glanced at him, a little dazed by the truth that had struck her a few minutes earlier. "I'm just not feeling so great." She replied dismissively. "I'll be fine. Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Ice. I never figured that out."

"Because you're an ice queen." He laughed, amused. "You've got just about every man in this building off their game, even some of the married ones, and you don't even notice. When was the last time you looked up and counted the number of men and women who catch fire when you walk by? And when was the last time one of them made you catch fire?"

Unbidden, the memory of her last night with Gibbs flashed through her mind and she shivered lightly. "Fair enough." She replied softly, shaking herself out of the longing that had washed over her.

He raised an eyebrow at her, catching sight of the momentary flash of desire. "Lady Ice found someone to melt her." He observed. "What, exactly, were you doing before you came back?"

"Tactical on special ops in Russia." She answered, smiling wickedly. "It's cold at night. That doesn't mean I'm melting."

"Sure." Laughed Michael. "Whatever. Hey, if you're not feeling well, you should go home. We're not totally helpless without you."

"And give you all a chance to plan your rebellion?" she teased. "I'll be fine. Come on, I booked the range for us in ten minutes."

Sarai leaned back in the couch cushions that night, looking at the test in her hand thoughtfully. A gentle smile flitted across her lips as she dropped it into the trash beside the couch. "Only you, Jethro." She murmured to herself. "Only you."

Washington DC, a month and a half later.

Gibbs sat on the floor of his basement with his back against the boat frame, gazing at the necklace Sarai had left him, as he often did these days. He'd exhausted every resource he had, short of asking Jen, and while he wasn't ready to give up, he certainly had little confidence left. He was even beginning to question the sincerity with which she'd said she loved him. It was her job to be a ghost, after all, why would she throw that away for sex with a Navy cop in the first place? Maybe she'd just used the affair to throw him off, make her escape, and even have some leverage on him for later. If only he could get into that damned case file, maybe he could find something, but it was beyond hacking, Abby had checked. Maybe it was just time to give up and move on, after all, she'd been right before when she said it just wasn't possible. He hadn't managed to find a way yet, and obviously she hadn't either.

Then a thought struck him. She was a fighter and she'd gone back to Israel, for all he knew, she might be dead. No. He couldn't imagine a world that kill his former lover, she was simply too alive to die. It made no sense, even in his own thoughts, but it was true.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with a sigh. "Gibbs." He answered.

"I'm so sorry Jethro." Came her hoarse whisper across the line. "God, I'm so sorry."

His head shot up at the sound of her voice. "Razi, where are you?

"A cemetery." She replied softly. "I'm so sorry."

"Did you kill another dealer or something?" he laughed. "What are you sorry about baby girl?"

"I'm sorry I left." The pain in her voice cut through him and he wished more than ever that he knew where she was. "But I did, and you need to forget about me now."

"You know I can't do that." He told her quietly. "We've already been through this. Why don't you just tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

"I'm in hell Jethro, and I won't let you join me here." He could hear her uneven breathing that meant tears and grimaced, leaning back against the wooden skeleton of his boat.

"Then come to me." He tempted. "Don't stay there."

She was silent for a moment, then, "I can't go back to Virginia." She replied resignedly.

"Because of that murder case?" he asked bitterly. "You killed a sailor, didn't you?"

She gasped in shock. "No! I promise you, I have never killed a marine or a sailor, why would you think that?"

"Because your fingerprint brought up a cold case file." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "It's classified why beyond my payroll, but I do know it involves a victim in my jurisdiction. It's from…'92 I think."

"I know it." She murmured sadly. "But it's not one of mine, I promise you. That's Jasper's case."

"He killed my sailor?"

"No, he is your sailor. Jenny's father. I would not kill my best friend's father. But I was staying with them at the time, so I guess my prints must have gotten onto something of his at the crime-scene."

"Okay baby, I believe you." He said quietly. "But I need you to come home. Please."

"Don't make this harder." She pleaded. "You have to stop looking for me, it's dangerous."

"Please don't say goodbye Raz." He asked, only the slightest tang of an order in his words.

"I…I have to." She protested, sounding dazed and confused as she tried to disobey.

"Don't hang up baby girl." He repeated, the authority in his voice was stronger now. "I miss you, don't go." He could imagine her face, clouded with struggle as she fought the need to stay on the line.

"Goodbye Jethro." She whimpered. The phone went dead and he closed his eyes, the cell tumbling out of his hand. His head fell forward, hands clasped behind it, and he had to take several deep breaths before he could look back up.

Sarai collapsed to her knees in the dirt, her cry of pain turning into full bodied sobs as she hugged herself tightly. Jagged images flashed through her mind, fragments of the last forty-eight hours. A shattered dish on the floor when the cramping started, the expression on the nurses' faces as her body tore itself apart rejecting her baby, and the sympathetic face of the doctor who had delivered the news. She drew a shuddering breath, reading the gravestone in front of her through a blur of tears.

Jacob C. Tehran. June 16th, 1940 through August 2nd, 1994.

"Why?" she whispered to it, barely registering the rain that had begun to plaster her hair to her face. "Why did you do this to me Jacob?" Her whole body was wracked by sobs and her fingernails were digging into her skin where she clutched her arms around herself. She was numb to the world around her, the icy wind that whipped her hair around her face, the sting of the rain drops on her skin, all of it faded away in the face of her broken heart.

"Areille?" Michael's voice sounded a thousand miles away. "Jesus Ice, what the hell are you doing here?" he knelt on the ground beside her, draping his coat over her shoulders and pulling her close. "You shouldn't come here alone." He told her gently, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Did they ever find out why?" she asked, eyes locked on the tombstone.

"No Ice," he sighed, hugging her and casting a furious glance at his father's final resting place. "They never found out why he did it. Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes." She turned her gaze away from the stone, burying her face in his shirt instead. "He took my children from me, I just want to know why."

"Oh God, not again Areille." He said, dismayed. "One of your Russian lovers knocked you up?"

"He's not Russian." She whispered miserably. "American. Alira would've been a pretty girl if she looked anything like her father."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful child." Agreed Michael gently. "Have you been to see Jasmin?"

She nodded hesitantly. "I went there first. I wouldn't have come here at all except...." She couldn't finish and he sighed, petting her dark hair.

"Did they say you were done Ice?" he asked softly.

"More than a miracle." She agreed miserably. "Do you think he regrets it?"

He was silent for a moment. "I don't know what my father would think, not anymore. But whether he regretted what he did or not, I won't ever forgive him. Let me take you home Areille, you shouldn't stay here." Sarai let him help her up and lead her out to his car, lost in her grief. Before she knew it, they were back at her apartment and he'd half-carried her to her bedroom. She curled up on the blankets and closed her eyes, shutting out the world. She could feel Michael sitting on the edge of the bed next to her but she didn't move. "I'll call the Director and tell him I found you. You've had us all really worried. Do you want me to stay for a while, or...." She was shaking her head silently, so he got up and left. "Don't leave us Ice." He warned, pausing at the doorway just long enough to say it before he was gone.

"She's practically catatonic, Director." Said Michael quietly, leaning back tiredly in the chair across from Eli. "She got pregnant again, and apparently they told her she was done."

"Pregnant? Since she came back?" asked Eli incredulously.

Michael shrugged. "She didn't say." He lied. If his friend hadn't told the Director anything, he certainly wouldn't. "I don't think she should be alone, sir, I think someone needs to be with her, maybe Ivanna or Ziva or Tahlia."

Eli sighed, glancing at his operative. "If I know that girl at all, she'll be back at work tomorrow like nothing happened." He told the younger man. "I don't like it, but she's always been that way, and she would be furious if anyone else saw her this way. For now, there's nothing we can do."

Washington DC, three years later.

Gibbs flipped open the paper, glancing over the national news the way he always did. At first, he'd been looking for news of his ex-lover, any hint that might help him find her, now it was just habit and one last little glimmer of hope that refused to die. In the other room, Diane was watching one of her irritating soaps, she missed his panic when he saw the headline.

Hamas Missile Kills Twelve.

Twelve square inch photos sat underneath it and, at first glance, all three dead women looked like the Israeli spy. But when he looked closer, none of them had her aristocratic bone structure. He glanced at the names just in case, but knew there was no point because she'd have changed it already. Suddenly, he realized that the TV was off and glanced at his watch. Diane's shows didn't end for another twenty minutes, and she was never this quiet. He got up silently and slipped over to the stairs that led down to the basement. "Whatcha looking for, Di?" he asked casually.

"My jewelry pliers." She replied vaguely, pulling a drawer open. "I think I left it with your tools down here."

"You're looking in the wrong place then." He laughed, but inside, he felt a twinge of annoyance. Her pliers were neatly tucked away in their box along with the rest of her supplies and she knew it. "My tools are over there." He nodded toward the opposite side of the room but she'd already found the Box. He'd left it there over the years, taking it out only rarely these days, and he hadn't really worried about it. But recently, Diane had seemed to have gotten it into her head that he was having an affair, and now he realized that the necklace and note were not likely to convince her otherwise.

"I guess I am." She turned the box over in her palm. "Is this for me?"

"No." she froze and he lied easily. "I was supposed to give it to my daughter when she was old enough. It's from her cousin."

"And you kept it all these years?" asked Diane incredulously."I kept anything of hers I could." Replied Gibbs truthfully. It was obvious that Diane didn't believe a word, but she put the box back without opening it and he made a mental note to bring it in to work until it was safe again.

The only sign of what had happened to Sarai in the last two days had been the flash of shame that Michael saw in her eyes when she looked at him, and it had annoyed him that she felt ashamed to have needed help. He had considered confronting her about it, but he couldn't make himself do it.

One by one, the other Kidon operatives began to respect Sarai rather than resent her. She ran the unit with taut reigns and never hesitated to state her opinion of her own agents and her father's ideas, but she also never shut anyone down for doing the same. She took assignments with her agents and put herself in harm's way a thousand times to protect the people she worked with.

It was well known at Mossad that, while she often had dates/lovers, she wasn't emotionally interested in any of them. She'd adopted most of Gibbs's rules for herself, although she only taught a few of them to the other agents, and she quickly became a household name for anyone who worked with her. Most of the time, she was outgoing and friendly, but every now and then her mood would take a massive turn and the whole agency was reminded of why they respected the young woman.

She didn't lose her temper often, but when she did everyone was scared of her, so when she stormed into Eli's office one day, the two other men there left with quick, muttered goodbyes. Eli gazed up at his daughter calmly. "Do you have any idea how much you look like your mother right now?" he asked, setting aside some papers.

"What the hell is Ari thinking?" she demanded, ignoring the attempt to side-track her. "What he's doing is risky enough without all this! What he just did was suicide for him and his assignment!"

"They don't even know who he is." Laughed Eli. "And they won't either. He's not done anything that bad."

Sarai stared at him in shock. "Not that bad?" she repeated incredulously. "He held NCIS's ME's and one of their agents hostage! He shot the medical examiner's assistant and the boy's never going to be a doctor now. The hostages were all people that Special Agent Gibbs cared very much about. Ari is as good as dead!"

"I understand your concern, Sarai." Sighed Eli. "But Agent Gibbs will not be a problem. If worst comes to worst, we can read him into Ari's assignment."

"You think that will stop him?" laughed Sarai. "You don't know the man, Papí."

"And you do?"

"He and Mamá worked together for eight years, I know enough." She retorted. "Agent Gibbs will not give a damn about what good Ari may be doing if that idiot doesn't tread lightly around his team. Unless you want a dead son, you'll make it clear to Ari that he needs to find a way to make amends before Gibbs becomes too set on revenge. There's not a damn thing even I could do to stop him after that."

Eli frowned, thoughtfully. "Alright, I will consider this, but remember that there's only so much choice he has."

"Yes," she agreed. "His choices are uncover himself just enough or die." She turned and strode back out.

"Lela?"

Sarai was surprised to hear her sister's voice so shaky over the phone. "Hey Ziv, what's up?"

"How soon can you get to DC?" asked Ziva.

Sarai pursed her lips furiously. "I'm not supposed to involve myself in Ari, Mija, that's why you have the job, the Director thinks I won't give him a fair shot."

"Yes, well, you shouldn't." replied Ziva. "He shot that woman, Special Agent Katelyn Todd, murdered her. At least, Agent Gibbs and everyone else here is convinced of it, and they're saying that he's trying to kill Agent Gibbs. I'm beginning to believe them. I need you to help me, Lela, because if they're right, and he's gone over to the other side, I'll have to kill him, and I can't do that! He's my brother, Lela, you have to help me."

Sarai's eyes iced over and she fought to control her anger before she spoke again. "I'll be there by morning Mija, don't worry, but I need you to make me a promise right now."

"Anything."

"Once I get there, this assignment is mine, and you WILL do exactly what I say, alright?"

"Of course! Thank you so much Areille, I wasn't sure what to do." Said Ziva gratefully. "Shall I pick you up at the airport?"

"No. I'll come to you. Don't worry about anything Ziva, I'll handle it."

Ziva and Sarai stood on opposite sides of the doorframe at the top of the stairs, listening as Ari confessed to everything. It was amazing what people will say when they're sure they're on the winning side. Sarai could see tears in Ziva's eyes and motioned for the girl to step back farther into the shadows. She'd already given Ziva instructions on how this was going to play out.

"If he dies, Ziv, you tell Agent Gibbs that you killed him, understand?" ordered Sarai, steel in her voice.

"Lela...."

"That's an order, Officer Davíd." Sarai cut her off. "Tell him you shot your own brother to save his life, those exact words. You'll need his trust and support soon, and this is the best way to earn it. You will under no circumstances tell anyone that you've seen me, or spoken with me, clear?"

"Crystal." Agreed Ziva sadly.

"Good, come on. We'd better get going."

Gibbs's voice snapped her back to the present. "I've killed enough men in my life. But it'll be just as sweet watching you die." Sarai aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. Ari had glanced up when Gibbs had spoken, and he'd caught sight of Sarai standing in the doorframe. A surprised smile lit up his face, and then he crumpled to the ground, dead. Ziva's hands flew to her mouth, stunned. She felt a thrill of fear when she saw the icy look in her mentor's eyes as Sarai gazed at Ari's body. It was clear that the older woman had felt nothing, no remorse, no pain, no regret, at killing her agent, and as she handed the weapon to Ziva, walking away, Sarai knew that she couldn't go back to her life in Israel. It wasn't Ari's death, she knew that Gibbs would take credit for it to protect Ziva, but to realize that she was numb to the act of killing horrified her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she had ever meant to go back anyway, or else why would she have gone back to the cemetery to see Alira, Jasmin, Tahlia, and Jacob? But the decision had cemented itself in her brain now as she left her little sister in the care of her ex-lover. The only question now was; where would she go instead?

Ziva walked slowly down the stairs into the basement, half in shock. "He was your brother." Observed Gibbs quietly, watching the young Mossad officer. This had been a confusing night for him, forced to trust a woman he was determined not to, and then thinking he'd seen a flash of those beautiful green eyes he missed so much when the figure had melted out of the shadows and shot Ari.

Ziva nodded, eyes locked on her older brother, and Gibbs took her hand in his for a moment before walking over to the stairs. Ziva started singing a hymn softly, sitting in the bar stool near Ari's body and trying to tell herself that she had imagined the dismissive look in her mentor's eyes. Gibbs watched for a moment from the top of the stairs, and then took a brief look around his house. She couldn't have been here, there was no evidence for it. Except that as he stood at the top of the steps, he could smell the faintest hint of roses, vanilla, and cinnamon. He shook himself quickly. Either he was imagining it, or Ziva wore the same perfume as her coworker. That was it, it had to be.

An apartment in Virginia, a job as a history professor at a community college, and no involvement with her parents' politics. This was what Jasper Sheppard had always wanted for his granddaughter, and now she finally had it. To some extent.

Sarai kept her ear to the ground for any news of Jen and Eli searching for her, but her parents seemed to have understood why she'd left because they didn't come after her. She went down to the gym regularly to spar with whoever felt brave enough to try, usually men who wanted a chance to ask her out, and she was always armed, but aside from that, she had left everything behind her in Tel Aviv.

While she could have switched accents in a heartbeat if she'd wanted, she chose not to lose the accent that marked her as an Israeli national, just as she kept her natural looks. Maybe it was foolish to highlight herself in so many ways, but she was tired of deception, so she just left things as they were. Unfortunately, one side effect of this decision was the gossip that followed her arrival. A gorgeous, young, distinctly Middle Eastern woman arriving in town was clearly big news, and the fact that Sarai kept to herself for most of the summer weeks leading up to the beginning of term didn't much help.

The first day of classes saw her awake earlier than usual, and she glanced herself over in the mirror. Her dark hair hung in a loose curtain down her back, covering the slight signs of a knife and a small firearm at her hip. Sarai took a deep breath and smiled, letting her expression relax and fall into place, before heading out the door. A real smile flashed across her face for a second as she climbed into the pale silver Acura she'd just bought. Maybe it was a cliché, but she liked fast cars. They created just a little of the rush that she got off of her assignments with a slim to none chance of her getting killed comparatively. But there was a time and a place for everything, so she forced herself to drive at the speed limit all the way to the college and suppressed her sigh of regret when she turned off the ignition. She climbed out and made her way to the classroom she'd been assigned, frowning at the cold impersonality of it and making a promise to herself that she would add some life to the room. Sure enough, she heard the carelessly efficient footsteps of her new friend a moment later. "Morning Lisa." She called out, not even turning around. "Go ahead and drop those papers on the table, I'll go through 'em in a minute."

Lisa sighed, annoyed. "How do you do that?" she demanded. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're blind or something, it's the only reason I can think of that you know who's coming by their footsteps."

"Practice." Replied Sarai. "That's how. My brother and sisters were always trying to sneak up on me. Believe me, it was self-preservation."

"Yeah, mine did the same thing, I just never learned how to avoid it." Laughed Lisa. "Anyway, I've got your attendance sheets, syllabi, and that questionnaire you wanted."

Sarai dropped the chalk onto the board's little ledge and turned, wiping her hands on her slacks. "Thanks." She flipped through the papers and set them down in three different stacks on the table, perching herself on the corner of it. "And now we wait."

"So, how many of them do you think are going to be brave enough to actually ask?" Lisa leaned back against the wall grinning. "I've already been asked a million and two questions, and not one of them was about the course."

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Laughed Sarai, rolling her eyes. "I mean really, I'm not that interesting!"

"You're kidding me." Lisa stared at her. "Honey, let me give you a sample." She feigned a prissy little voice. "Do you know if she's from Iraq?" she mimicked. "She's so dark, are you sure she isn't Pakistani?" Back to the normal voice. "And so I had to explain that Pakistan is a completely different place from Iraq. Oh, but are you sure she isn't from there? I mean, do you know if she's got a Koran?"

Sarai laughed at the imitation. "No!" she gasped, wiping her eyes. "Damn war's got everyone looking for terrorists in their own backyard." She giggled.

"Well, Professor Sandors," said Lisa seriously, a deadpan face. "You do have a very European name, and it's really very clear that you're from somewhere in the Middle East." A second later the two of them were laughing so hard they were almost crying, unable to keep a straight face anymore.

"Oh, I'm so sorry you have to deal with that, Lis." She gasped, struggling to regain her composure. "Damn, this should really be interesting then, shouldn't it?"

Lisa nodded to the students trickling through the door, looking terrified of their new teacher. "And this is the Freshman class too." She whispered conspiratorially, pushing off the wall. "Good luck. You're gonna need it." Sarai watched as students trickled in until all of the seats were filled and tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear nervously. Time to start her new life.

"Abby!" yelled Gibbs over the pounding rock music. He glanced in the wastebasket by her computer, heart sinking when he saw six Caf-Pows inside. The Goth turned to look at him, and he realized that she'd aged about five years with Kate's death. He sighed and turned the music down to a semi-reasonable decibel level. "You remember that print I had you run a few years back?"

"You've had me run thousands of prints Gibbs." She replied miserably, turning back to her computer.

"You know which one I'm talking about Abbs." He told her quietly. "I need to talk to her."

Abby turned away and began fiddling with the machines in her lab. "It's been over six years since I ran that print Gibbs. Did you ever consider that she doesn't want to talk to you?"

"Only every single, damn day." He retorted angrily. "And I've respected that for almost seven years, but I was told to back off Ari and I want to know why."

Abby's head jerked up. "You think she has something to do with it?" she demanded.

"I don't know Abbs." He sighed. "Can run a facial recognition program for her?"

"Can you describe her?" Abby volleyed back. "I can design a face and run it, but it'll only be as accurate as your memory is."

Gibbs nodded, steering Abby into her office and pushing her into her computer chair. "It's not a face you forget." He said grimly.

"Alright, shoot." Ordered Abby. "Let's see if our luck is any better now."

Gibbs closed his eyes, trying to recall every piece of the face that he hadn't seen in almost a decade. "Blonde hair, long and straight. Bright, dark green eyes. Light skinned. Mostly European features, but some Israeli."

Abby frowned. "Well which ones are which Gibbs? I could combine them any one of a thousand ways." she pointed out.

"Her bone structure was very aristocratic." He clarified thoughtfully. "But she had a widow's peak and darker-toned, bowed lips; more middle eastern."

"And now we factor in height and weight...." muttered Abby.

"Five foot seven, eight, and a dollar fifty." He offered.

She typed the statistics into the computer and the image adjusted slightly for the numbers. "Is that her?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Yeah." Gibbs dragged his hand through his hair, frustrated. "That's her."

Abby stared at the computer picture, frowning. "It doesn't look right." She commented. "I mean, I don't know what she looks like, but the details just don't really seem to go together."

Gibbs glanced at her and then at the screen. "You know, you're right."

"The hair." Realized Abby. "That's what it is, I remember my cousin spent months trying to get her hair that colour, and when she finally gave up and went into a salon, they mentioned that it's actually not possible for hair to be that colour naturally. You've got to strip out all the colour and then put in just the right amount of a really specific dye. It's really hard to get it like that."

"So what's her real hair colour then?" asked Gibbs, puzzled by all the talk of feminine hair-related beauty.

"Not even I can tell you that, Gibbs." Laughed Abby. "All we can do is hope that her hair colour isn't as rare as her eye colour is. Genetically, it's almost impossible to get green eyes. Usually both parents have to have green eyes, but there's like a one in a million chance that one parent could have another colour. They're often paired with red hair, but that's also a recessive trait, and it's not likely that this girl got more than one genetic miracle. You said European and Israeli. There's a fairly good chance she wound up with black hair." Offered Abby.

"Alright, try that." said Gibbs, relieved to move away from topics he had no understanding of.

She typed a code into her computer and the silvery blonde locks were replaced by black. "Now THAT looks right." Said Abby triumphantly, gesturing to the screen. "What do you think?"

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. "I think it's time to find out who 'Secret' really is." He replied. "Run it against everything you can think of Abbs, military, agency databases, terrorist watch-lists, CIA, hell, even highschool yearbooks." He paused. "Actually, try the yearbooks. Anything near Quantico the last thirty years, okay?" He turned and began to walk away.

"That's a lot of pictures to go through Gibbs!" Abby called after him.

"Better get started then!" he called back. "Call me when you have something."

Three months later.

Gibbs hadn't even gone home last night, and as per usual no one had arrived for work yet. He sat at his computer, tired eyes still attached to the screen, reading through Ziva's report. She wasn't such a bad agent, really, and he knew that her heart was in the right places, but he still wasn't sure where her loyalties lay and that worried him a little. He was pretty sure that she would no longer blindly follow her father's orders, but she was still Mossad, and it would take a lot to get her to care as much about NCIS's interests as she did about Israel's. He didn't look up when the elevator dinged, so Abby's excited voice startled him.

"I found her Gibbs, I found her!" cried Abby, racing out of the elevator. She skidded to a stop in front of his desk and held out a file proudly.

"Who, Abby?" asked Gibbs, puzzled.

The Goth rolled her eyes. "Your runaway date, of course." She sighed, like it was obvious. "I've been running her likeness past every picture I could find, and I just got a hit. We were right about the hair. Name's Kyra Sandors, she's a college professor at Waverly University, just started working there. Guess when?"

"Right after Ari died." He said grimly. "What the hell is Mossad up to?"

"Dunno." Shrugged Abby. "But I'd take a look at her file before you go see her. Anyway, I found her address and phone number. There's not much on her, kept herself pretty clean, but what there is, I put in that file. My work here is done, good luck."

Gibbs grabbed the file, pausing to kiss her cheek as he hurried over to the elevator. "Thanks Abby. Can you keep quiet about this for a while?"

She saluted him with a pleased smile. "Whatever you say, mon capitain!" she giggled, watching the silver doors slide shut between them.

Sarai wiped down the chalk-board at the front of her room as her students lingered over their packing. She'd noticed that no matter how many times she dispersed a rumour, there was always a new one to fill its place, a little like it had been when she'd first arrived at Mossad, and while it annoyed her a little, she actually found it entertaining to hear the theories, and encouraged her students to share what they'd heard. As it was, a lot of them would stay after class and chat with her about just about anything they could think of, and more than one had attempted to ask her out. She'd been getting a lot of that, actually, students, coworkers, and even some of the relatives who came to visit the school. She sighed, stacking a bunch of papers into a pile and trying to fit them into her already-full bag. She cursed under her breath as half of the papers slipped out of her hands and covered the floor, and she knelt down to pick them back up.

"Here, let me help you with that." The deep, familiar voice made her stomach twist and she forced herself to stay calm as Gibbs knelt down beside her, gathering up a small pile and handing it to her.

She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, nervously, and took a deep breath before looking up. As always, her mind went blank and her breath hitched when she saw those pale blue eyes watching her, his expression unreadable. "Thank you." She replied hoarsely, clearing her throat with an anxious laugh. "Sometimes I think the inevitable fate of a teacher is to drown in homework."

"This is not the way I expected to run into you again, Raz." He said softly, taking the stack of papers from her frozen hands and setting them back in the table.

Her smile faded and she broke their gaze, shame and pain in her eyes. "I did not expect to see you again at all Jethro." She murmured. "In fact, I counted on it."

"Was it really that bad?" he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "If I asked Ziva, would she say you'd moved on, or that you were still in love with me?"

"Ziva would say..." Sarai swallowed, closing her eyes. "...that if you called my apartment, there would be a seventy-five percent chance that a man would answer the phone, and a hundred percent chance that it would never be the same man twice." She replied, smoothing her skirt down carefully.

He flashed her one of his lopsided smiles, amused, and she realized that both Lisa and the college kids that were still in the room were paying close attention to them, enjoying the show. "So you went back, huh? I don't know if I should be flattered or worried."

"It is not your obligation to be either." She retorted, wiping at her eyes hastily. "It has been too long for any of it to matter anymore."

"No." he shook his head gently. "After what you've been through, nothing I could do for you in six months was going to make it matter."

"And what have I been through?" she hissed, burying her heart in ice to control her emotions, just as she'd always done.

"You were fourteen in Queens." He pointed out. "I have your, sorry, Kyra's, file."

"Papers can lie." She whispered.

"Maybe." He conceded, tugging on a lock of dark hair. "But your eyes can't. They've always been very expressive, huh? And I know you well enough to hear what they're saying."

She shook her head, beginning to panic as she pulled her bag towards her and put away the loose papers. "No, no, I have to...."

"Your next class isn't for another half-hour." The slight desperation in his voice made her look up. "Please just talk to me, Razi. What did I do wrong?"

She sighed, biting her lip. "Nothing." She replied, touching his shoulder for a brief second. "You did everything right, Jethro, I just....Can we talk about this later?"

He followed her gaze to the small group of girls that were inching steadily nearer in order to hear their conversation. "We will talk right? You're not going to disappear on me again?" he clarified.

"I am not going anywhere." She agreed, resignedly. "I take it my address is in that damn file?" He smiled and she nodded. "I thought so. Say hello to Ms. Sciuto for me, will you?"

"Bye Raz." He turned and left, dipping his head to the girls as he passed them. They giggled, embarrassed, and hurried out as well.

She watched him walk out of the classroom, perfectly aware that Lisa had crept up behind her. "Forget about it Lis." She sighed, turning back to the big oak table. "It is not important."

"That look on your face says it is." Pointed out Lisa, practically giddy with excitement at her friend's little encounter. "Spill."

"Maybe later." Agreed Sarai vaguely. "Right now, I have a class to prepare for."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "You know I won't let this go." She warned her friend/boss, folding her arms over her chest.

"I know." Laughed Sarai. "Later." And with that, she shooed the younger woman away and went back to her papers.

Her lips moved in an amused smile as she heard her front door open and close, Gibbs's footsteps deceivingly light after years of practice. "I have a doorbell you know." She pointed out, slipping a bookmark between the pages to mark her place and setting the paperback down on the side table. She curled up tighter to make room for him as he came around the couch.

He pulled out his Sig, setting it by her book and settled back into the cushions next to her. "I had an invitation." He reminded her, glancing at the title on her book. N or M by Agatha Christie. "Don't you get enough of the spy game in real life?" he asked. "Why read about it too?"

"It seems so much more fun when written about by people who have no idea what they are talking about." She replied thoughtfully. "And this way I get to remember all the romance of it without the bad things."

He glanced at her quizzically. "Remember?"

Sarai nodded, absently. "I finally got up the courage to tell my father to go to hell and make my own choices." She murmured. "I am done with all of it, and I do not intend to go back."

"I'm proud of you." He told her gently, rubbing his thumb over her knee.

She looked down at her scarlet-painted toes, ashamed. "Do not be." She replied, her voice coming out sharper than she'd intended. "I caused too much damage, and my reasons for leaving were purely selfish. I cannot make up for what I have done."

"You were a kid, Raz." He said firmly. "What in hell did you know about all that? If anyone's responsible for what you did, it's your parents. You're a good girl, you did what they told you to, nothing more."

A memory flashed across her mind; an explosion rocking the whole world around her, her body flying into a wall, strong, camouflaged arms helping her through the maze of smoke and destruction. She blocked the images quickly, not wanting to go back down that road. "Not always." She said quietly.

"Good." She looked up, surprised by his tone. "There's no point in blindly following orders, it doesn't help anybody."

She couldn't help the smile, feeling her heart warm back up at the praise. Before she even realized it, she'd moved herself into his lap, curling up with her head on his chest. He was surprised by the switch, but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around her. "I did miss you." She murmured, enjoying the feeling of him playing absently with her hair.

"Good." He repeated, softer this time. "I missed you too Raz."

"Me or the sex?" she teased, tilting her head up with a wicked smile, but there was a valid question in her eyes.

"You." He replied confidently. He pressed his lips to her forehead, shifting a little to better accommodate the shape of her body.

She bit her lip gently, thoughtfulness replacing the curiosity. "Do you think I made a mistake?" she asked quietly. "About us? Should I have stayed?"

"I think there's no point asking what could have happened because there's nothing we can do to change it." He replied slowly. "It's better to ask what we want to do now."

Sarai leaned up, brushing her lips over his, and she slipped back into the patterns from before. Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling herself as close as possible, trying to taste as much of him as she could while he was here with her. "Can you forgive me?" she rasped, the slightest anxiety showing in her eyes as her mouth hovered over his.

"For what?" he asked, too lost in her taste and scent to figure it out for himself.

She paused, hands framing his face, emerald eyes locked on his pale blue ones. He could see the struggle there and realized that there was something she was trying very hard not to tell him. "Everything." She replied finally.

"There's nothing to forgive, you haven't done anything wrong." He told her gently, fitting his hand in the small of her back. "So whatever it is you're worried I'll be angry about, I promise I'm not. I'm just happy to have you back Razi."

Relief showed on her face before a wicked smile flashed across it. "And who says I am taking you back?" she teased.

"You would kiss me like that and walk away?" asked Gibbs, feigning astonishment and tightening his arms around her.

"Maybe." She replied impishly.

"Well I guess I'm going to have to do something about that." he growled back.

She let out a soft shriek as he picked her up easily, carrying her back through the apartment. "Arrogant bastard." She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. She let her head fall back and he nipped at her throat before laying her down on the bed, acknowledging the silent request.

"So I've been told." He agreed. He stretched out over her and dropped his mouth down to her skin, nipping and tasting his way along. "But I didn't think you'd mind."

"I guess not." She moaned as she began to melt for his seduction. "I take it back. You may arrogant, but you have every right to be."

He smirked against her soft skin. "Then we agree." He observed, inching her blouse up. "We'll give it another shot, a real shot this time."

Sarai nodded, smiling up at him. "Shall I tell Lisa I have a boyfriend then?" she asked innocently.

"A very jealous boyfriend." He added. "I saw the way those college boys look at you. I bet they like to stay after class and ask stupid questions."

"As a matter of fact, they do." She pulled his mouth down, kissing him as hard as she could. "But I assure you, I am all yours."

"Good." He said for the third time. "I like that."

She slid her hands up his chest gently, popping the buttons of his shirt open. "Patience has never been one of my strong points." She pointed out when he cast an amused glance at her.

He laughed, sending thrills up her spine. "Fair enough." He murmured. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on silent, dropping it on the bedside table, and then held out a hand for hers. She gave it to him and he turned it off as well. "No interruptions."

Her body was still humming from his touch the next morning and she rolled on top of him, placing butterfly kisses along his jaw until he began to wake up. "Not morning yet." He slurred, squeezing his eyes shut.

Sarai suppressed a laugh and kissed him full on the lips. He responded enthusiastically, making a low sound in the back of his throat when she pulled away, but she just shook her head. "It is time to get up Jethro." She purred. "We both have to go to work today, and I do not think I have anything that will fit you."

"I've got a change of clothes in my trunk." He shrugged carelessly, eyes tracing the flex of her muscles as she dressed. "Do you really need those?"

She tucked her seven-shot into the waist of her jeans, glancing at him over her shoulder. "It is just a habit I guess." She replied absently. "At Mossad, you would have to be dead to go unarmed, so now it feels strange to be without my weapons."

Gibbs frowned, pushing off the covers and grabbing his jeans. "I took Ziva's weapons the first day she was on the team. Sig Saur, back-up pistol, and a knife."

"Do you really think that's all she had?" laughed Sarai, latching her bra and pulling a shirt out of her closet. "I taught that girl myself. As long as she is in the field, she will be better armed than that."

"I'm going to have to talk to her about that." he muttered. His eyes darkened when she pulled her shirt over her head, the scarlet silk clinging perfectly to every curve on her body. "I don't think you should wear that."

She glanced down, dismayed. "I like this shirt." She protested, fingering the hem. "Is it really that bad?" He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. He nipped softly at her neck, his hands sliding down to rest on her bottom and pulling her hips flush against him. She gasped, curling her fingers into his arms at the feel of his arousal. "Oh!" She breathed, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his.

"I really like that colour on you." He said hoarsely. "But this...," He ran his hands up her sides and they caught on the soft fabric. "This is just cruel, baby girl. I don't think you know what you would be doing to all those poor students of yours, let alone what it'll do to me to think of you in this while I'm at work today."

"In that case, I will be sure to wear it more often." She replied innocently. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and she laughed. "You will be fine Jethro, and my students will have to take care of themselves." She pushed him away gently, kissing his cheek, and headed out.

He closed his eyes and took a moment to cool back down before getting dressed and following. He found her in the kitchen, fixing coffee and eggs. "You're a morning person aren't you?" he observed.

"The caffeine shots help." She replied, handing him a cup. He sipped it warily, than relaxed when he realized she'd made it the same way he always drank it. She watched, amused. "I know my way around marines, Jethro." She laughed, taking a sip from her own cup.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "That so?" he asked, watching her blush spread from the tip of her nose outward as she set her half-empty mug down.

"My grandfather was a marine." She amended hastily. "He took care of me when Mamá was not around, which was most of the time. I also know you."

He smiled at her embarrassment and pulled the velvet box he'd brought with him out of his pocket. He eyes locked onto it, shock flashing through them for a moment before she masked it. "I meant to give this to you last night, but I got a little...distracted." he opened it and lifted the silver chain out.

Her expression turned soft with delight and amazement as he came over and clasped the necklace around her throat. Her fingers flew to the silver star, closing around it. "You kept this?" she whispered.

"It was important to you." He replied, resting his chin on top of her head and putting his arms around her waist. "I just always figured I could give it back to you when I found you." She shook her head in disbelief, covering his hands with her own where they rested over her stomach. "I never stopped loving you, Raz, and I'm really hoping you still love me."

She pulled away, tucking back her hair nervously. "I am afraid to love you." She whispered, pinned by his blue gaze. "But I can't help it."

"The one thing in the world you're afraid of." He sighed, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb across it. "What can I do?"

"Just...just give me time." She replied. "Time to leave Mossad behind."

"You're really done, huh?" he asked, impressed and pleased.

"I am never going back." She agreed confidently, then she faltered. "But you are a part of it all."

He tipped her chin up gently, forcing her to look him in the eye. "I will keep you away from it." He told her firmly. "I promise. You can do whatever you want with your life now, and I'll help you every step of the way."

"It is my life, isn't it?" She smiled hopefully, considering this semi-new idea. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. "Thank you." She murmured.

Gibbs hugged her back and she pulled away, looking much happier than before. He kissed her softly. "Come on, I'll drive you to work."

Lisa raised her eyebrows in surprise when she saw her friend lean over to kiss Gibbs before getting out of the dark sedan. Sarai waved as Gibbs sped off, and sighed when she noticed Lisa waiting for her by the door. The brunette's smile only grew when she spotted the love-bites that Sarai had done her best to cover up. "Not important my ass." She announced, crossing her arms. "Let's hear it."

"Hear what?" replied Sarai sweetly, deliberately provoking her friend.

"Damnit Kyra!" exclaimed the younger woman. "You can be so evil sometimes!"

"His name is Jethro." Laughed Sarai, taking pity on Lisa. "I have known him...." Sarai frowned, counting back the years. "A very long time." She finished, deciding she didn't care about the actual number.

"Is he good?" asked Lisa pointedly, pushing the classroom door open.

The two women stepped inside and Sarai dropped her bag on the oak table. "At what?"

"You make girl talk really difficult, you know that?" sighed Lisa. "Is the sex good?"

Sarai shrugged vaguely. "It's nice."

"You're putting out for sex that's just nice?" demanded Lisa incredulously. "Honey, you're going to have a problem if that's true."

"I just do not really see why you want to know about my sex life." Replied the Israeli, grabbing a piece of chalk and starting to write on the board.

Lisa sighed. "I don't. What I'm interested in, is my friend's life in general, and since this Jethro is a new part of it I'm interested in why."

"He's not a new part." Sarai flushed a little as she turned away from the board and sat down on the edge of the table. "We were together about eight years ago as well, but...he got called back to DC and I could not see a way to leave Israel." She bit her lip thoughtfully, flashing back to the day she'd left Russia, the plane trip that she'd spent in silence trying to convince herself that she'd done the right thing.

"Called back?" asked Lisa curiously. "What, is he a Senator or something?"

Sarai shook her head. "A federal agent, NCIS. Just goes to show, I guess. Raise a girl in chaos and she falls in love with a cop."

Her laugh had the slightest bitter tang to it, but Lisa was too focused on the earlier part of the sentence. "Whoa, in love? Kyra, that's..." The TA struggled to find the correct adjective. "Those are big words, use them carefully."

"Believe me Lisa, I do." Sighed Sarai. "Let's continue this conversation later, alright?" She glanced pointedly at the students that were beginning to trickle in, most looking half-asleep and like they'd rather be anywhere else.

Lisa nodded. "I think you need a better cover-up by the way." She teased lightly, tapping her own neck to make the point. Sarai glared at her and the brunette laughed, pulling a small container out of her purse and setting it on the table. "I always keep some around. You might want to step out before class starts." Sarai rolled her eyes at her friend's back and pulled out her class sheet.

She paused, glancing at the little bottle on the table and grabbed it, striding out of the room. "Oh, shut it." She muttered to Lisa as she walked past the giggling younger woman.

Sarai was curled up on the couch with her head in Gibbs's lap, neither of them really paying that much attention to the show they had on. "What made you decide to leave, Raz?" asked Gibbs, watching her face cloud over with something he couldn't quite read.

"I shot someone." She replied quietly.

"What was different about it?" he asked, puzzled.

She was silent for a minute before answering. "When I pulled the trigger, I did not feel anything. Not regret, pride, revenge, not shock. Taking his life felt the same as taking a step, like something unimportant that happened every day. And my sister was there and when she looked at me, I knew she could tell, and it scared her to see me like that. I just turned and walked away, left her there, came to Quantico. And that's when I realized I had never really meant to go home at all. I had not taken anything with me, I had visited my youngest sister's grave before leaving Tel Aviv, I had even considered calling you." She glanced up at him apologetically. "No one knows where I am, and I don't intend to let them find out."

"I guess that means no one at work can find out either." Sighed Gibbs. "Because of Ziva and Jen."

"I hear she is Director now." Murmured Sarai. "She's got the head for it, I suppose. Are you up for more secrets, Jethro?"

"Depends." He replied dryly. "Am I keeping for you or for Jenny?"

She smiled, slipping her hand into his. "Me."

"Then yes, I absolutely am." He petted her dark head gently. "I promised I'd keep you out of it, and I will. So, how do you like being a teacher?"

She stifled a laugh at the change of subject. "I find it very entertaining. I am teaching twenty year olds the PR version of things I was involved in. It is quite ironic, don't you think?"

"I think it's perfect." He agreed with a smile. "Who better to teach the subject after all? Just don't go trying to teach them what really happened."

"Damn, that was why I took the job." Teased Sarai. She reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "Are you staying tonight?"

He nodded. "Whatever you want Razi." He promised quietly.

Four months later.

The last few months had been very different from the first few. Lisa had noticed the change and she was quite pleased for her friend. The Israeli had spent her first three months in Virginia either in her classroom or at her apartment, but then the boyfriend had arrived. Aside from that first conversation where she'd gotten his name, Jethro, Lisa hadn't managed to get anything more out of her friend about the man. But he was by no means invisible. Lisa had seen the two lovers around town and he would drive the professor to work every morning and pick her up every afternoon, he just never seemed to stick around for an introduction. It actually worried her. She may only have met the Israeli less than a year earlier, but she and Sarai had become fast friends, and men who weren't interested in meeting friends were often not interested in anything real, at least in her experience. So when she recognized her friend's mystery-man in the store, she made her way over in a very nonchalant fashion. "So you're Kyra's new friend." She observed brightly, putting herself right in his way.

Gibbs looked up, surprised and momentarily confused by his lover's alias, but his face lit up with understanding when he recognized Lisa. "I guess you could say that, yeah. Lisa, right?"

The brunette nodded. She was vaguely impressed by the aura of dominance and power that surrounded him, recognizing the pull to obey this man's orders. "I guess she's told you about me. Nothing too awful, I hope."

"She says you've been a great help since she got here." Replied Gibbs. "And a great friend. I'm guessing from your position," he gestured towards the way she was blocking his path. "That she hasn't told you anything about me."

"Good guess." Replied Lisa sweetly. "Kyra's my friend, and I'd like to know something about the men in her life."

"That's very admirable." He said, amused. "I'm not sure what you'd like to know, though."

She shrugged carelessly. "Oh, you know, the basics. Do you have a job, are you married, any history of insanity in the family, that kind of thing."

"I see." Laughed Gibbs. "Well, yes, no, and I don't think so. It's nice to know Kyra has someone looking out for her." He didn't like using the other name, but he knew he had to.

"Just one more question." Prompted Lisa.

He nodded. "Shoot."

"Why don't you ever stick around? You seem to always be in such a hurry to get in and out."

"You think I'm not involved because I haven't spent any time with Kyra's friends." Realized Gibbs.

"It did cross my mind."

He cast her a curious glance. "My job doesn't leave me very much free time, it's not a flexible schedule, so I haven't really gotten to meet any of Kyra's friends. But I can assure you that it's not because I'm not serious."

Lisa smiled, semi-appeased. "Good. Then you won't mind my saying that if you hurt her, I'll give you a clip you'll never forget." And with that, she disappeared into the store.

Gibbs considered this and chuckled to himself, heading for the check-out line. Having been through four marriages and three divorces, he'd heard such threats before, but he had to admit that the petite brunette had certainly come up with a new way to make them.

"So, I'm officially your boyfriend now." Commented Gibbs vaguely as Sarai dropped kisses down his chest that night.

"What changed?" she laughed, nestling into him.

He reached down to pet her dark hair contentedly. "Your friend, Lisa, she cornered me at the store today and threatened me if I ever hurt you. Somehow, it's a little more intimidating coming from someone who's a good foot shorter than you." He added thoughtfully. "She was quite matter-of-fact about the whole thing, I'm actually pretty sure she'll do it too."

"How sweet." Murmured Sarai, stifling laughter. "Really quite unnecessary though."

"I'd be terrified to break your heart." He agreed. "But apparently she was worried that I was just playing around because I haven't stopped in to say hello when I pick you up from work."

Sarai rolled off to lay beside him and tucked her body up against him. "I guess you will have to visit then." She said lightly.

Gibbs played with her hair quietly for a while, lost in thought, before he finally spoke. "How long are you planning on waiting before you say it, Raz?"

She glanced up at him curiously. "I love you Jethro." She said softly, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

He turned a little and kissed her gently. "I know that. You've said it every day for the last four months. I wasn't talking about that."

"I do not have anything else to say." She said quietly, knowing it wasn't true.

"This," He pressed his hand flat against the faint rise of her belly. "Says differently. When were you going to tell me?"

Sarai pushed away, getting out of bed and pulling her nightgown over her head. "I was going to save you the disappointment." She replied, unable to look at him. "I will lose it anyway."

"You were a spy before, Raz." He laughed. "Stress causes miscarriages, and I highly doubt that being a college professor is anywhere near as bad." She dragged her fingers through her hair, folding one arm under her breasts and muttering to herself in Hebrew. He sighed and got up, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her belly. "Isn't it worth a shot, baby girl?" he asked gently, kissing her neck. "Did you want us to just date and make love for the rest of our lives, or did you want something more? We've been making love for four months with no protection, I figured you wanted this."

"Do you?" she asked uncertainly.

"I'd thought about it, yeah." He replied slowly. "The way I pictured it, I'd at least gotten you to move in with me first, but yes, I want us to be a family, and kids would've been a part of that at some point."

She turned in his arms, doubt and fear in her eyes. "Your last three marriages have ended in nasty divorces. I do not want to be just another alimony Jethro."

"Please?" he asked quietly, putting on his most pleading face, the one that had never failed him yet where the beautiful ex-spy was concerned. "Just trust me, Razi. Let me take care of you."

Her expression softened and he knew he'd won. "I will make an appointment to see the doctor."

He tipped his forehead down to hers, smiling gratefully. "You're going to be a wonderful mother." He assured her, touching his lips to hers for just a second. "And I'm going to take really good care of you and our baby, I promise."

"You are making a lot of promises, my love." She warned softly, her eyes still full of doubt. "Do not make more than you can keep."

He showed up at the college in the middle of one of her classes, leaning against the wall with an amused smile as he listened to her lecture on the history of relations between America and Iran. He had to suppress laughter at some of the questions the students asked, especially the ones that were meant to get a rise out of her Israeli temper. She handled them well, and he realized that she had been taught to keep her cool and to be a diplomatic politician. It impressed him and he began to wonder just how many talents she'd built up over the years. When the class ended and students approached Sarai with last-minute questions and conversations, Lisa stepped over to Gibbs, glancing at him approvingly. "You took my advice." She observed.

"You made your point well." He replied, nodding. "The last thing I'd want to do is lose Kyra because I was too proud to take advice."

Lisa smiled at the deferential tone and politely disappeared as Sarai made her way over. She leaned up to kiss his cheek, a soft smile on her lips. "My handsome marine." She murmured as he tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "What can I do for you Jethro?"

"Try this on, see if it fits." He replied carelessly, tossing her a small box.

She opened it curiously and froze. "Wha...." she stared at the ring, astonished. "You....I do not...." People were beginning to notice the look on her face and she masked her shock carefully. "Are you proposing?"

He gave her one of his signature lopsided smiles, crossing his arms nonchalantly. "Not the most romantic proposal in the world, but I figured you'd be less likely to argue with me over it here."

Sarai chewed on her lip thoughtfully before plucking the ring out of its box and slipping it onto her finger. "Perfect." She smiled up at him, more delight shining in her eyes than she was allowing to show anywhere else.

"You have very talkative eyes, baby girl." He told her, pleased. "You know that?"

She laughed gently and looked down, folding her arms over her belly. "You have said so."

"Ah, well they talk more now than they used to." He replied. "And I can tell you right now that I've never seen anything but good things in these eyes. And I promise I'm not going to let that change." She could read the double meaning in his words and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Okay?"

She nodded and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek. "Thank you." She muttered, her voice thick with emotion. "Now go, I have to find a way to stop crying before my next class." She pushed him back gently, biting her lip. And he gave a tiny wave to her and Lisa as he headed out.

Lisa was at her friend's side in a second, snatching her hand up and staring at the delicate white-gold band with a small ruby on it. "Oh my God." She breathed. "It's beautiful. Only four months in and he proposes."

Sarai tried to control the giddy feeling rising in her chest. "Eight years." She corrected, barely aware of her surroundings.

Lisa glanced at her friend curiously for a moment. "What was that thing about the eyes?" she asked.

Sarai paused, almost wanting to tell the truth, but she held her tongue. "In Israel, it is mandatory for every citizen to serve two years in the military after they turn seventeen. Jethro and I....We were together shortly after I finished serving mine and...." she closed her eyes briefly, curling her fingers around the star at her throat as she pushed back the memories. Lisa's face clouded and then cleared with understanding. "I am not proud of what I did, but war does not leave you many options. For a long time, though, I couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a monster. Sometimes I still do. He understood, more than most, what it was like to do something you hated to protect your country, and he understood what it was like for me to leave."

"Did you two serve together?" asked Lisa. It was the first time she'd gotten Sarai to talk about her past and she was very curious. "I mean, did you ever end up assigned together?"

Sarai nodded, her eyes and mind far away from the classroom, in Queens, in Russia. "I was just a teenager the first time we met. He'd seen me on duty once, and I guess he was curious, as was I. But I was just a child to him at the time."

"I guess so." Agreed Lisa. "If you were seventeen, he's definitely more than a year older, that would have been dangerous."

"Not in Israel." Shrugged Sarai vaguely. "Seventeen is the age of majority there, but he would have thought it dangerous, yes. I did not see him again for several years, he had joined NCIS and I was still deployed, so we never crossed each others' paths. When I was twenty-one, I wanted to see the world from the civilian side of things and there he was, just as sweet, just as curious." She glanced up at Lisa, suddenly back in reality. "It was the only stupid, thoughtless decision I have ever made, and I don't think I have ever regretted it."

"You went home with him?" Lisa was incredulous. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." agreed Sarai quietly, twisting the delicate band on her finger. "Stupid, reckless, and impulsive, everything I had never been able to be. And then I fell in love and got scared. I went home, to my father, and I tried to forget, to prove it was not real."

"That's so sad!" fawned Lisa, awed by the story. "It's just like a faerie tale. True love, star-crossed lovers, a tragic end and a second chance, it's beautiful! What does your family think of all this?"

Sarai looked away, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. "I have not spoken to them since I left Israel. My father and I....We had a disagreement about how I should live my life. I tried to help my sisters as best I could, but it was too late for me to do anything, so I did not stick around to watch. Mamá and I fell out when I was sixteen and I ran away from home, so no one really knows about Jethro, but I know they would disapprove."

Lisa frowned. "Don't you think you should tell them you're getting married though? I mean, whatever happened between you couldn't be that bad could it?"

"Bad enough for me to not tell them where I was going when I moved." Replied Sarai shortly. "It is better for everyone this way."

"Why don't you ever talk about your past, Kyra?" asked Lisa curiously. "It seems like it would be better if you did, let out some of the feelings you've got all bottled up inside."

"I talk to Jethro." Sarai began walking back toward the front of the classroom and Lisa followed. "But I am not nearly as interesting as people seem to think I am, I just don't like to dwell in the past, it distracts me from the present."

"Well," observed Lisa, taking the note that Sarai was done talking. "The present is looking pretty good for you right now. A good job, a good man, good friends, what more does any girl really need?"

"You look quite pleased today Jethro." Observed Ducky curiously as the glass doors swished closed behind Gibbs.

The agent dropped into his old friend's computer chair with a smile on his face. It was the day after he'd proposed, and he was really looking forward to this new life. A case had kept him out very late last night and his now-fiancé had already been asleep when he'd gotten to her apartment, so he'd left a note on the table and gone home. "I ever tell you about Moscow, Duck?" he asked thoughtfully, itching to share his good news, but not sure whether he should or not.

"I believe it did come up once or twice." Replied Ducky.

"What'd I tell you about the agents on the case?"

"That one was Director Sheppard and the other was Callen." Ducky glanced over, more interested than ever now, and pulled off his latex gloves. "Why?"

Gibbs waited for him to shut off the tap before replying. "We've been friends for a long time now, haven't we?"

"Yes." agreed Ducky, puzzled. "We have shared much, but I get the feeling that there is something you haven't shared."

"I trust you Duck, but some secrets you have to be especially careful with. I don't want to screw this up, you know?"

The ME leaned against one of the stainless steel tables and crossed his arms. "I would never betray a confidence Jethro." He assured his friend. "What's going on?"

The agent was quiet for a moment, deciding. "I'm getting married." He said finally.

Ducky burst out laughing and Gibbs glanced at him sharply. "Oh." The Scotsman was surprised. "You're serious. Well, my dear Jethro, that certainly seems like more of a reason for celebration than secrecy, unless there's something I don't know."

Gibbs got up, clasping his hands behind his head as he paced the length of the autopsy room, and turned back around to face the ME. "She's incredible, Ducky. Beautiful, smart, one hell of a fighter, and a temper to match anyone's. She's a teacher now, works down at Waverly."

"But I take it she wasn't always." Observed Ducky.

"Yeah." Gibbs nodded. "She used to be a spook. At least sixteen years, probably more like twenty. You know how that business is, once you're in, it's damn near impossible to get back out. I promised not to let her get dragged back in."

"Thus the secrecy." Agreed the Scotsman. "So why bring it up with me?"

Gibbs sighed. "I need somebody at work to know." He replied. "In case something happens, you know? I don't want her to have to find out over the news if I...." he trailed off but Ducky understood.

"I'm honoured that you chose me." Said Ducky. "And I shall take my job very seriously. Do I get to meet this lady?"

Gibbs smiled, relieved. "I can ask. Would you like to?" When the other man nodded, Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

'Hello Jethro.'

He smiled at the sound of her voice. "Hi. I was wondering if you'd mind having a guest later this week."

He could hear the panic in her voice when she spoke. 'Who did you tell?'

"Just Ducky." Soothed Gibbs. "I wanted someone to know, as a precaution, and he's my best friend, he won't tell."

She sighed. 'I understand. Alright, when could he come?'

"Friday?" Gibbs was asking both of them at once, and Ducky nodded again.

'Sounds good.' Replied Sarai. 'Do you think you will be out late tonight?'

"Shouldn't be. We haven't got any cases so far and shift's over in another couple of hours." He promised.

'Good.' She sounded much more pleased. 'I will make dinner tonight then. Bye my love.'

He smiled. "See you soon Raz."

She hung up and he pocketed the phone, glancing up to see Ducky watching him curiously. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this Jethro." Commented the ME. "She must be quite special."

"She's...." he shook his head thoughtfully. "Razi's something else, Duck."

Ducky saw the look in his eyes. "There's another reason you chose to tell me this, isn't there?"

"I'm worried about her." Admitted Gibbs quietly. "I think something happened that she won't talk about, and I'd like to find out if there's any trouble there. Do you think you could sort of look into that when you come over?"

"Of course." Agreed Ducky kindly. "I shall be glad to."

Sarai laughed as his arms closed around her waist, hands sitting gently over her belly. Gibbs kissed her cheek softly, watching her cook. "I'm sorry about earlier." He murmured. "I just really needed to tell somebody and Ducky would never tell anyone. I wanted to make sure that if anything happened to me at work, you wouldn't have to find out through the news or have to go talk to one of your contacts again. Are you angry with me?"

She smiled and transferred the food from the pan onto a plate. "If you trust him, so do I." she reassured him gently. "But please do not talk like you expect something to happen, I do not want to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, baby girl." He promised. "Just being thorough. So, what does your incredible talent for knowing things tell you about Ducky?" he teased.

"Doctor Donald Mallard." Recited Sarai, amused. "NCIS's medical examiner. Mid sixties, used to live with his mother who is in her late nineties and in the last stages of dementia, but he put her in a care facility recently. It really was for the best, and he does enjoy his freedom. Like Abby and yourself, he's one of the best at what he does, and his services have been requested many times out of house. He is studying to perform psychological autopsies as well as physical ones, and he has a gentle manner usually but will occasionally lose his temper. What did I miss?"

"Nothing I can think of." Replied Gibbs, impressed. "How do you do that?"

She turned around in his arms, kissing him softly. "It was once my job to know things." She pointed out, picking up the plate. "Open." He opened his mouth obediently and she fed him one of the pieces she'd just finished making.

He'd discovered very quickly that she was actually an excellent cook, and he'd gradually become accustomed to trying new things. "That's good." She smiled, pleased, and he released her. "So, how many more months do you have on your lease here?" he asked casually.

She glanced up from serving out a couple of plates. "I pay by the month, I was not sure that I would be able to stay long enough to warrant a lease. I figured that if I was still here by the end of the year then I would get something more permanent."

"I think you should move in." said Gibbs. "It's only a little farther from the university."

"You are really serious about all of this, aren't you?" she realized, setting down the plate.

"Completely." He agreed. "I wouldn't have proposed otherwise."

She bit her lip gently. "I worried that it was because I was pregnant." She admitted. "That you were just being kind. Or that...I was a replacement for Shannon and Kelly."

"You're not." He promised, rubbing his thumb across her cheek comfortingly. "When I saw you that day, in Moscow, I don't know what happened, but something made me look at you differently. And then you looked up at me with those damn eyes of yours and that sweet face and you asked me what I was thinking and if I'd like to come home with you. I shouldn't have done it, any of it. It made no sense that I didn't just turn you in right then, but I didn't and then it was too late." He set her arms around his neck, tipping his forehead down to hers. "You looked so pissed that afternoon, and it was the most gorgeous and adorable thing I'd ever seen."

"No one had ever said something like that to me." She told him quietly. "No one had ever been so blunt or so kind. It annoyed me, because I thought I had you all figured out and then you surprised me anyway. I did not know what to do with you."

He smiled, amused. "And when I finally got my act together and realized that you loved me and that I loved you too, I felt like I shouldn't be so lucky, but I was going to be selfish enough to hold onto you anyway. Yeah, I miss Shannon and Kelly, but that's no reason to hurt us both by pretending I don't love you. I want to wake up every day and see you there next to me, and I want to know that I'm the one who gets to piss you off by looking after you, okay?"

She laughed, tears in her eyes, and kissed him softly. "I would like that." she murmured. "So, I take it you want Ducky to be coming to your house this Friday." He nodded firmly and she smiled. "I guess I'd better start packing then."

Sarai was just finishing a few last minute details when the front door opened and Gibbs and Ducky came inside. The older Scotsman blinked in surprise when he saw the young woman with her back to them. He glanced at his friend sharply and Gibbs shrugged apologetically. "Would you like anything to drink Dr. Mallard?" she asked, her soft voice startling him with its clarity as she turned around to face them, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear.

"No thank you my dear." He replied, getting over his initial reaction.

She held out a hand to him. "Razi." She introduced herself.

"Ducky." He said, doing likewise. He made an old-fashioned bow over her hand and she smiled, blushing a little. "It is a pleasure to meet such a lovely young lady."

"Is it a requirement for NCIS employees to be so charming?" she asked, amused.

"Only the Medical Examiners." Replied Ducky, eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I see." Laughed Sarai. She gestured for the two men to follow her. "Dinner will be finished in a couple of minutes if you'd like to sit down. No guns at the table Jethro." She reminded as she disappeared into the kitchen.

He rolled his eyes and put his Sig in the top drawer of the side table. "I'll bet she's still carrying hers." He muttered, more to himself than Ducky.

"I am not at the table, now am I?" she called from the kitchen.

"Busted." Laughed Gibbs to Ducky. The two of them sat down at the table and Sarai came back out with a couple of plates. She handed one to each of them and then went back for her own. She set it down on the table before pulling out her seven-shot.

She snapped out the clip and locked the trigger, dropping both pieces in the drawer with Gibbs's, and sat down. "I take it he knows, then." She said to her fiancé, taking a bite.

"That you used to work in the intelligence business, yes." agreed Ducky. "But not that you were an Israeli. Ex-Mossad?"

"Kidon." Sarai nodded grimly. "Not the most pleasant side of the business."

"I will admit, my dear," said Ducky kindly. "You're not what I'd expected by Jethro's professional description. I pictured someone...." he paused, trying to come up with a way to say it delicately, but she said it for him.

"Older?" she smiled. "You are a doctor, how old would you say I am?"

Ducky was taken aback by the question. "Well, I would not dream of guessing a woman's age, but if I had to, I would say...no more than thirty-five."

"And you would be right." She told him conspiratorially. She watched the shock spread over his face as he counted and realized that Gibbs had given him a number to work with.

"But, my dear girl, that would have made you no more than...."

"Ten years old," She finished for him. "When I took my first assignment. Nothing about my family was particularly...conventional. A bastard child with an Israeli father, an American spy mother, and a marine grandfather. I suppose the simplest way of saying it would be that my birth sort of...slipped through the cracks. There's no better ghost than one who has never existed." Even Gibbs was surprised by this comment. He'd never heard her speak so bluntly about her family before. "But really, that's all in the past now. Have you had any interesting cases cross your desks lately gentlemen?"

"We had a sailor who turned himself into a super-marine." Replied Gibbs thoughtfully. He saw Ducky's glance and shrugged. "Oh really, Duck, Mossad will already have the case from Ziva, and who else is she going to tell?"

"Careful, love." Said Sarai quietly. "Asking such questions invites answers, and I'll thank you to have a little more respect for Officer Davíd. She is a good woman, and loyal to a fault. Not to Mossad, never to Mossad, but to the people there that she cared about. It is a loyalty that she has transferred to you and your team." Gibbs looked properly abashed from the scolding and she took a careful sip from her glass. "My apologies for being so blunt, Ducky."

The ME dipped his head, respectfully acknowledging the power he read in his hostess. "I don't suppose you have any stories to tell from your time in Israel." He asked, tactfully changing the subject back to the topic he'd come to observe.

She thought for a moment, and then her face lit up with amusement. "My little brother and sister, they...didn't always agree to say the least. Michael would have done anything I said, no matter what, but my sister, she was much more headstrong. We were in London, the four of us, and Michael and I were trying to figure out how to approach our contact without tipping off his friends. By the time we looked up, the girls had come up with their own plan and they had the poor man three blocks away from the rest of the group, probably thinking he was the luckiest bastard alive. A couple of very friendly Italian girls who snuck away from their big sister and brother-in-law."

Ducky chuckled at the story. "I would guess that your sisters got an earful for that little escapade, if not from their brother, then certainly from their big sister."

"Michael did the honours." She smiled. "Scared the hell out of our contact, the man was convinced that he'd thoroughly pissed off an Italian businessman, and my sisters never really crossed Michael after that."

"They'd never crossed you to begin with." Observed Ducky.

"I went easier on them then some of the other agents." Replied Sarai thoughtfully. "I think everyone did, really, which may have been a mistake. The three youngest, they got places because of our father, Michael got places despite his father, and I...." she paused, whetting her lips. "I did not have to fight nearly as hard as Michael did, but it certainly wasn't easy for me."

"How many siblings do you have, Razi?" asked Ducky, surprised by the seemingly-growing number.

She shrugged carelessly. "Three at any given time, I suppose. Until I left. I abandoned Michael in Israel and my youngest brother and sister are both dead, which really just leaves the two older girls, my sister and I." Suddenly, she looked up at Ducky, curiosity in her eyes. "Are you trying to read me, Doctor?"

He nodded, apologetically. "I'm afraid I am rather, my dear. It was really just too fascinating an opportunity to pass up. It's quite difficult though, I will admit. You, Ziva, and Jethro all seem to have a very good poker face. Is it something they teach you in the military environment?"

She watched him for a moment before going back to her dinner with a quiet reply. "You learn it there, certainly, but it is not something they teach. When you watch the people you trust most dying beside you, you learn to stop being afraid just long enough to tell them it will all be alright one last time. You put on a strong face and hope that they keep their faith in your promises right up to the end. You have to."

"Yes." sighed Ducky, his eyes turning from his young hostess to his friend and back again. "I can see how that would be the case. I suppose the only thing that can bring back our more innocent days is time."

Later that night, Sarai got up to wash the dishes, but Gibbs caught her arm and shook his head. "I'll get 'em." He told her. He squeezed her hand gently when she looked like she might argue. "You've been on your feet all day."

She sighed and went out to the living room with Ducky, curling up in an arm chair across from the ME. He watched her intently for a while, and there was something in his expression that told her he'd finally gotten past her poker face. She leaned forward, murmuring conspiratorially, "You know, I could save you a lot of trouble if you would just ask the question you are afraid to hear the answer to."

Ducky also leaned forward and matched her tone. "Who violated you, my dear girl?" he asked, his gentle manner and underlying protectiveness reminding her of her grandfather for some reason.

She leaned back without answering, and just then Gibbs came back into the room, handing out drinks to his fiancé and his guest. Ducky nodded to himself and settled back into his chair and Gibbs was left to wonder what exactly had occurred between them.

She stood, arms wrapped protectively around her belly, alone at the window and Gibbs watched her quietly. "You've never talked this much about your family, Raz." He said quietly, concern in his eyes.

She turned her head to look at him for a moment before turning back to the window and rubbing her arms. "Ducky reminds me of Grandperé." She murmured, half to herself. "I have been wishing I could talk to him lately. He always knew me better than anyone else, maybe because I never had to tell him anything, he was there for all of it, watching it happen."

"He understood what was going on without your having to explain and relive all the memories." Observed Gibbs. He came over and put his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "Yeah, I know baby. You could go visit him, his grave I mean. It's not the same thing, I know, but it might make you feel a little better."

"I might do that." She agreed softly. "He would have liked you, I think. You would have lost points simply for loving me, but he would have liked you anyway."

Gibbs laughed quietly, kissing the top of her head. "It's nice to know someone in your family would like me." He said, amused.

"My sister likes you." She whispered.

"Hmm?" He hadn't quite caught her words.

She shook her head sadly. "Nothing." She turned to kiss him softly. "Let's go to bed," she sighed. He nodded and guided her up the stairs and towards the bedroom. She moved around the room, familiarizing herself with it, as he stood in the doorway. A solid wooden bed-frame with a gold comforter over the sheets was the focus of the room, but there was an oak dresser and mirrored closet doors as well. Finally, she sat down on the edge of the bed, running her hand over the fabric absently. She felt his weight behind her, and his hands sat heavy on her shoulders as he moved his lips over her neck, enjoying the sound of her ragged breathing. He wasn't all that surprised, though, when she pushed him back gently. "Not tonight Jethro, I am tired." She murmured.

"Goodnight baby girl." He petted her hair softly until she fell asleep, and for once she didn't look peaceful with her eyes closed, she just looked small and vulnerable. He sighed and got up, heading down to his basement for bourbon and his boat.

Gibbs locked the glass autopsy doors behind him and sat down in Ducky's computer chair. "What do you think?"

"I think you're pushing your own boundaries a little too far with this one, Jethro." Replied the doctor, not looking up from his autopsy. "The girl is a good decade younger than you and just as stubborn. Either your marriage will work out perfectly, or it will turn into your worst divorce yet."

"That's not what I meant Duck." Sighed Gibbs, rolling his eyes. "My mind's already made up on that."

Ducky picked up his needle and thread and began sewing up the body in front of him. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable being used to help you read your fiancé anymore, Jethro." He said, finally glancing back up at his friend. "It just seems a little invasive. But, seeing as I've already done it, I may as well share my findings. I'll give you a preliminary warning, however, I still have much to learn on this subject, so not all of my conclusions may be accurate."

"I'll bare that in mind."

"Alright then." The Scotsman set down his needle carefully. "A brilliant and determined woman, quite confidant in her own abilities, and well-aware that she's even a little over-confidant. Loyalty means everything to her and she would rather die than betray someone she cares about. She does not expect that same loyalty from others, though, in fact she has a hard time trusting anyone outside of her immediate family. A family that she loves, but has separated herself from for some reason. The separation is only for her parents sake, though." He added curiously, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on the autopsy table facing his friend. "She doesn't see her mother and father as parents, but more as friends and employers. Because of this, she seems to have taken on the responsibility of her sisters, perhaps to keep them from the life she lived. Her brothers she has less concern for, and I believe the one, Michael she called him, is merely metaphorical, a childhood friend that she shared something so personal with that she's almost closer to him than she is to her blood relations. The other brother, she doesn't seem to care for him much, or perhaps she just never spent much time with him. She's a woman who has fought for everything she has, despite growing up wealthy, but she had no problem throwing it all away, which leads me to believe that she sees everything as temporary. I would guess that there was always something that took permanent things away from her, or perhaps someone. She hates herself for the work she did, probably because she enjoyed it so much and gave up everything she had for it, only to realize something that made her leave. She sees her leaving as a betrayal in itself to Michael and her remaining sister, but believes that she had no choice. And on the subject of betrayal, I believe that's where her biggest problem lies. She feels betrayed, by her parents for forcing her into that life as a child, by someone in her old life that made her leave, and by someone else, someone who hurt her so much that she couldn't find it in her heart to trust or to love anyone. Which brings us to you. She loves you very much and it terrifies her. She thinks of herself as damaged and a monster, and she can't believe that anyone would love her, let alone someone who knew her when she was a spy. There are probably a thousand things she's afraid to tell you because she thinks they'll make you love her less, including the identities of her family. I would venture a guess that she's afraid you would think of them as monsters and come to see her that way as well. The one thing I am quite certain about though, is that loyalty she values so much, she would put you before even her sister, she has put you first, and I would even guess that you are the source, direct or indirect, of the betrayal that made her leave Mossad and Israel."

Gibbs was surprised by this thought, and he wasn't sure he liked it much. He knew she missed her family and even her old lifestyle sometimes, and he didn't want to be the reason she'd given everything up, even if it had brought her back to him. "Is there anything I can do to help her trust me?" he asked quietly.

Ducky considered this for a moment. "Well, the first thing I advise is be damn sure you want to marry her before you do, because another betrayal isn't going to help her much, especially one from you, but then once you are sure.... Appeal to the more child-like side of her every now and then, before she started to become so jaded and hurt, because that will bring back the memories of that trust that children have in the world. Don't treat her like a child, she'd hate that, but let the world be innocent and simple for her every now and then."

Three days later.

He would never understand how doctors could tell anything at all from an ultrasound machine, it just looked like a jumble of coloured clouds to him. He could, however, read expressions, and he did NOT like the one on the nurse's face. "I wouldn't recommend letting this pregnancy go through." She said finally. "The chances of a healthy birth are...."

"Nonexistent." Muttered Sarai, wiping at her eyes hastily.

"Actually, they're pretty good." Corrected the nurse. "You have a pair of very healthy twins in there, Ms. Sandors. It's your chances of surviving the birth that aren't so good. There's some damage, but it seems to have healed up fairly well and neither of the fetuses will be putting direct stress on it."

Sarai looked up at her, stunned. "I...I was told...My baby will be alright?"

The nurse nodded. "Two, Ms. Sandors. They should both be fine. But you are a different story. There's a very good chance that your body won't be able to handle the pregnancy."

The Israeli was quiet for a moment. "I don't care." She said, decidedly.

"Raz!" Gibbs grabbed her hand, immediately a part of the discussion. He glanced at the nurse. "What are the numbers, at least?"

"In her case? About sixty percent against." Replied the woman grimly.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair slowly, rubbing his forehead. "No. Absolutely not."

Sarai turned to him, eyes pleading with him. "Jethro, please...."

He shook his head firmly. "No. It's not worth your life." The nurse was both pleased and impressed with his resolve against his girlfriend, although it did cross her mind that maybe he was just relieved to have gotten out of fatherhood.

"I have held daughters in my arms that never got to breathe Jethro." She said quietly. "And she says our babies will live. Think of what we will have."

"I'm a little stuck on what those kids and I have sixty percent chance of not having, Raz." He retorted, frustrated.

"I will be alright." She promised gently. "I am always alright, remember?"

"That's what I'm worried about." He sighed. "What if your luck ran out when you came home, huh?"

She turned the full force of her eyes on him and he faltered at what he saw there. "Please."

To the nurse's surprise, he turned to her, a helpless look on his face. "Is there anything we can do to help her chances?" he asked quietly.

The nurse realized that he was completely wrapped around her finger and would do whatever it took to make her happy. She sighed, resignedly. "Do everything by the book, don't do anything you shouldn't, do everything you should." She glanced at the Star of David around Sarai's throat. "You're religious?" Sarai nodded slowly. "Pray." Added the nurse. "It might also be helpful to know what kind of accident you had that caused this damage, just in case."

Sarai took a deep breath. "I tripped over my brother's puppy when I was a girl, I was carrying a cutting board and knife to my mother."

The nurse nodded and scribbled down the story. "Alright, well, the doctor will be in shortly."

Gibbs leaned back against the doorframe, watching his fiancé scrub at the dishes. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look up and kept washing. "You want to talk about this?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"They told you that you couldn't have children didn't they?"

She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her palms flat on the counter. "Yes." she replied softly. "After my last miscarriage, they said the damage was too bad and I would never carry past five months." She started scrubbing again, more furiously this time.

"There has to be a better way to do this Raz, a way that won't kill you." He pleaded. "I can't lose you."

"I am not going to die." She said shortly, gritting her teeth.

"You can't know that."

"But I do." She folded the dishtowel around her hand carefully. "I say I will not die, and I will not."

"Oh, that's logical." He said sarcastically.

"What do you want from me Jethro?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"I want you to think about what you're doing!" he exclaimed. "I want you to live! That's what I want from you, is it really so much to ask?"

"I do not know!" she yelled, wiping her eyes as she turned back to the sink. She kept her eyes down and her body braced against the counter as she spoke carefully. "If there is a forty percent chance that I can have you and our children, than I am willing to take it. I have taken assignments with worse odds and this means so much more to me than any damn assignment."

"But you could do something to change those odds, Razi." He pointed out desperately. "When people say all you'll be able to do is pray, that's your sign to back up and make another choice. For once, please just listen to me!"

"Don't you want this?" she begged.

He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Damnit, that's not fair!" he sighed. "You know I do, but not if it means losing you."

She shook her head, a soft smile on her lips, and came over to him, sliding her hands over his shoulders. "I will be fine." She assured him. "I do not know how I know it, but I do. I need you to...to just trust me on this, okay? If there is one thing I will always be able to do, it is survive, that will never change."

For some reason, he was comforted by the quiet faith in her voice, finding the same faith in his own heart. He tipped her chin up gently. "You will do everything I say." He clarified. "You'll let me take care of you and...and make a lot of fuss and be all 'better safe than sorry' about it?" she nodded and he sighed. "Damnit, I'm whipped."

Gibbs watched his now-wife's belly grow and fretted over her constantly. She started her maternity leave a little earlier than was strictly necessary, but he'd been quite adamant about it since the extra strain on her body exhausted her so much. So when he got the call, a whole month early, that she had gone into labour, he rushed out of the building, barking last minute orders at his confused team. It was over surprisingly quickly, although he knew it must've felt like a century to Sarai who hadn't made a sound since he'd arrived. Her silence worried the doctors beyond belief, but Gibbs could see the determined light in her eyes and as long as he saw that, he was confident that she was alright. When everything was over and he, Sarai, and the two tiny bundles that they held had been moved out of the delivery room, Gibbs kissed her forehead, relieved. "I guess you were right." He laughed, brushing her hair back from her eyes.

"I am always right." She teased.

"In that case, maybe you'd better name them." He said seriously. "I might screw up."

"Jaedyn and Benjamin." She said promptly, then backpedaled. "What do you think?"

He looked down at their son in her arms, and the infant's big, dark eyes stared back at him, then he looked to the tiny, delicate girl in his own. "That sounds perfect." He agreed gently.

She smiled, pleased. "Jaedyn Kelly Gibbs and Benjamin Jasper Gibbs." She murmured, turning the names over on her tongue.

He glanced at her, touched. "Thank you." He said quietly, leaning in to kiss her.

"Names," she replied. "Are a very powerful thing. You can honour someone with them, or you can burden them with it. Jaedyn is honouring someone important to her father."

He smiled gratefully. "Shall I put Kyra or Razi?" he asked, only half joking.

She thought for a moment, eyes on their son. Much as she wanted to connect her real name with her children, it wasn't wise. "Kyra Gibbs." She replied slowly. "But thank you for asking."

"I like this." He said thoughtfully, filling out the birth certificates. "It's not exactly what I'd imagined, but I like it anyway."

"Good. I never thought I would say this, but I like being a civilian." Added Sarai. "And I like being normal, and I like being yours."

Two months later.

Sarai glanced through the peephole in the door when she heard the knock, and her heart dropped. She opened the door slowly, holding Jaedyn tightly to her chest, and stepped back to let Ducky in. "Jethro?" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

"Stable." Assured the Scotsman gently.

Sarai closed her eyes in relief, but then she remembered what 'stable' meant. "Would you like anything Ducky?" she asked automatically, going into the living room.

"May I?" he asked, casting a fond glance at the little girl he'd gotten to see on occasion in the last two months. Sarai passed Jaedyn to him and they sat down on the couch. "She's getting bigger and more beautiful every day." He cradled the baby fondly as she looked up at him with curious, silver-flecked blue eyes.

"That she is." Agreed Sarai. She bit her lip and finally asked the question she was afraid to have answered. "What happened to him?"

Ducky sighed and looked up at her. "A bomb went off on a ship. He and another agent were the only ones in the cabin, and Jethro seems to have gotten off lucky. He got out of surgery an hour ago."

She dropped her head into her hands, rubbing her temples and taking a shuddering breath. "Who is with him?" she asked quietly.

"The Director and Abigail." Replied Ducky.

"Damn." She breathed, more to herself than Ducky. "Damn."

"I'll call you the moment he wakes up my dear." Promised Ducky. "He'll pull through, he always does."

One week later.

Gibbs opened his eyes, glancing around blearily, and they landed on the young woman asleep in the chair by his hospital bed. She seemed to hear the slight rustle as he sat up and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him gently. "Welcome back Gunny." She said quietly.

Her accent was heavy, but it sounded beautiful to him. "I'm sorry, maám, I don't really remember much right now." He said respectfully. Something about her tugged at his memory, but he couldn't catch the feeling long enough to remember.

She didn't seem to mind though, and her voice was still gentle when she spoke again. "Fall, '92. You joined NIS after Shannon and Kelly died." He closed his eyes, grief and pain washing over him again. "And you met me."

He looked up warily. "We work together?" he asked.

"We met through work." Laughed Sarai quietly. "Maybe our orders even made us cross paths, but we were hardly on the same team. I was blonde at the time, if it helps any."

"I'm sorry, I still don't...." he trailed off as an image flashed in his head for a second. The petite blonde standing over a dead dealer, the gun still in her hand. Then the same woman smiling up at him as the Acura roared down the street. "I think I'd really rather you didn't kill me." He told her, dryly.

She laughed again, a little brighter this time. "I may have done things a little differently, Jethro, but we were always on the same side."

"Were?" he clarified, a faint nervousness in his eyes.

"I have been retired for over a year." She agreed. "We are still on the same side, I am just not playing the game anymore."

He frowned, confused. "Then why are you here?"

Sarai leaned forward a little and he could see her green eyes sparkling even in the darkness. "Moscow," she replied, by way of explanation. "Fall of '99, still blonde."

Her sweet breath spilled over him and made him dizzy as he spun backwards. She felt incredible and tasted even better, he thought to himself vaguely before he snapped back to the present, his breathing slightly less steady than he would have liked. She smiled again, like she knew which images were playing through his head. "But according to the doctors, that's still nine years ago." He pointed out. "If we haven't seen each other since then...." a tiny sound cut him off, and she was no longer paying attention to him, murmuring in another language to something by her feet. He squinted a little in the dark, not quite sure if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

"I went to Israel after." She informed him, not looking up from Jaedyn and Benjamin's car-seat. "And you went back to DC. When I quit, I decided that I would like to go back to where I grew up in Quantico. I teach now, political history, believe it or not."

"Who better to teach it than a spy?" he chuckled to himself, before pausing. "That is what you were, right?"

"So were you." She flashed a smile at him before going back to the twins. "They miss their Papá." She murmured, half to herself and half to him. "He has never been gone more than a day or two before." She lifted an unhappy Jaedyn out of the rocker, settling her on her shoulder and pressing her cheek to the girl's head as she murmured to her in Hebrew.

"Does he know what you used to do?" asked Gibbs curiously.

She nodded. "Yes. He knows some of it, but not all. It is better that way, yes?"

He shrugged. "Depends on who he is I suppose. I still don't understand why you're here."

"I had hoped you would remember on your own." Sighed Sarai. She bounced her daughter on her shoulder gently. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked.

"Sure." She laid Jaedyn carefully in Gibbs's arms, smiling as the little girl burrowed into her father's warmth. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she? What's her name?"

"Jaedyn." Answered Sarai. "Jaedyn Kelly Gibbs."

As if she'd recognized her name, Jaedyn turned her head to stare up at her father with his own pale blue eyes. He saw those eyes looking up at him, but Sarai was the one in the hospital bed, pain written all over her face even though her lips were pressed tightly together to hold in her screams. And then farther back, the Israeli asleep next to him, his hand on her belly as he spoke softly to the twins. Then even before that, the day he'd proposed to her, the way her eyes glowed at him whenever she looked at him. "Oh, God." He whispered, his eyes darting over to Sarai. "Razi, I....How could I forget? I'm so sorry, I...."

She put a finger to his lips, laughing. "You forgot everybody, it is alright. Ducky warned me before I came."

"Why didn't anyone else tell me I was married?" he asked in disbelief. "That I had kids again?"

She swallowed and leaned back. "No one else knows." She said quietly. "I am not someone that can simply retire from the business and expect to be left alone. Since both Ziva and Jen are in contact with my father.... We thought it would be best if no one knew. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Kyra Sandors has no connection with the woman who left Israel or with you. Ducky only knew so that if something like...like this happened, I would be told before the reporters were."

"You're hiding from Mossad." Remembered Gibbs.

"Yes, I...."

Just then, Ducky poked his head into the room. "The Director is on her way, my dear." He said. "Ah, Jethro, you're awake."

"I have to go." Murmured Sarai. Gibbs passed Jaedyn back reluctantly and Sarai squeezed his hand gently. "I will be back when I can."

"Bye." He watched her vanish down the hallway and shook himself a little, trying to sort out his emotions and thoughts. He remembered that he'd been with Sarai for almost a year, and the time they'd spent together before then, but he still couldn't make himself believe that it wasn't 1991, and it felt like a betrayal to love the dark beauty when Shannon was so recently dead, or he thought she was. "Ouch. Damnit." He sighed, rubbing his head. It would make more sense eventually, wouldn't it?

One more week.

"It is not that easy Jethro!" she exclaimed, watching him throw together a small bag, just the basics. "It takes a little more than me packing a bag and walking out the door!"

He zipped up his bag, still furious at himself, at Jen, at the idiots who ran the government, everyone but his wife and the two infants who were sleeping quietly in their crib. He pulled Sarai up against him, a little more roughly than he'd meant to, and kissed her hard. "Do whatever you need to do and come join me then." He rasped. "I can't stay here baby girl, not after this." He kissed her again, softer this time, and her eyes were hazy and confused when he pulled away. "You'll come?" he asked, pulling the bedroom door open. She nodded mutely and he left, headed for a beach in Mexico where he could get away from all the people and the politics.

A couple of days later, Gibbs smiled when he felt his wife's slim arms slide over his shoulders. "My handsome marine." She murmured, resting her forehead on his shoulder lightly. "You build more than boats, hmm?"

He turned around, ducking his head to kiss her, but she moved just a little to avoid his lips. He paused, holding her close. "What's up?" he asked, concerned. It was then that he realized she was by herself. "Where are Jae and Ben?"

"At home." She replied, not looking at him.

"Why?" He tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear and let go of her.

She sighed. "I am not staying Jethro. You cannot support all four of us on just your retirement check, even here. It would have been difficult enough with both our salaries."

"It'll be fine, Raz." he laughed.

But Sarai shook her head sadly. "You are not thinking this through, Jethro. There will not be enough money, and I will not be able to get a job here."

He frowned. "I'm not going back to NCIS." He told her firmly.

"You do not have to." She assured him. "I understand that perfectly, you know that. But...can't you be retired in Virginia?" she pleaded.

"This is no different from when you quit Raz." He said, shaking his head. "You got the hell out of Israel, I needed to get the hell away from all of it. There's no difference."

"Yes, there is!" she exclaimed, frustrated with his stubbornness. "When I left, it was just me. I only had to worry about my own sanity, not anyone else's needs. We have children, Jethro! Babies! You cannot make a decision like this without thinking everything through. You have responsibilities! I gave you every chance to back out of them and you did not, so now you have to deal with them." She paused and took a breath to calm herself. "You have two choices." She told him quietly, running her hands over his chest absently. "You do not have to come home right away, you have earned your retirement, you have earned a break. Stay here for a while, relax, it will be good for you, but I have to go back and look after our children. Now, you can stay and have this nice little bachelor pad with Mike for the rest of your life, or you can come home." She touched his cheek, drawing his eyes back to hers. "The man I fell in love with, the one I married, he would come home, it could be today, it could be two weeks from now, but he would come home. What is your choice?" She watched his face, waiting for an answer, and she could see his choice in his eyes. He saw the cool blankness silence the green eyes he loved so much and he thought he might even have seen some disgust. Sarai leaned up and kissed him as hard as she could. "Just remember that this was your own Goddamned fault." She murmured against his mouth, giving him one last kiss before she strode away from the small house.

"If you let that girl walk away, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life." Pointed out Mike from the porch. They watched her disappear and Mike shook his head. "She's right you know. Sixteen years ago, your family was taken from you, now you're letting it go by choice." He drawled. "You ain't the same man you were Probie."

Gibbs ignored him and hauled himself back up to the roof to work on repairs.

Ducky helped her buckle the twins into their car-seats the next day, and somehow she was managing to hide the fact that her heart had been shattered like glass, that she was on the verge of tears. "Thank you so much for looking after them, Ducky." She said. "You did not have to, but it was very helpful."

"It was my pleasure, my dear." Smiled Ducky. "I'm just glad you got him to change his mind. Besides, it's good for them to have a few days with another ME, I won't be working forever. Did he say when he was coming back? Because I'd be happy to...."

"No thank you." She shook her head, not letting him finish. "It is very sweet, but no. I will see you later." She climbed in the front seat and waved to him before driving off. When she reached the house, she brought the twins into the living room, sitting on the floor with them in her lap. She smiled as Ben squirmed away, determined to make it across the room under his own steam. Jaedyn stayed nestled in her lap, perfectly content to watch her brother and learn from his mistakes rather then make them herself, she always seemed to be the less adventurous of the two. When Ben finally admitted defeat and plopped down on the floor with a furious wail, Sarai dragged him back gently and held him to her breast. He suckled at her hungrily, his tiny hands fisted against the soft warmth that was his mother, and then he gave a raspy yawn and lay his head against her. She glanced down to see if Jaedyn was hungry too, but the baby girl was fast asleep in her lap. Sarai let her head fall back on the couch behind her, gazing up at the ceiling. What the hell was she going to do? She'd gotten herself into trouble so much worse than what she'd been warned about with Gibbs, and she'd burned all her bridges by now. She glanced at her phone, wishing it would ring and it would be her husband telling her he'd changed his mind, he was coming home, but she knew it wouldn't. So she closed her eyes and wished for sleep to come, like it had for her children, but it never did.

After a week, when she realized that she couldn't sleep in the house knowing as she did that he was never coming back, she started packing. It only took her a couple of hours to have everything packed, leaving the house exactly as it had been before she moved in. She'd had lots of experience just picking up and leaving, but it hurt this time, and she kept looking back at the house as she put boxes into her Acura, buckling the twins into the backseat. Just as she was finishing, Ducky's Morgan pulled up in the driveway. The ME got out and it only took one look for him to know exactly what she was doing. "He isn't coming back is he?" she shook her head mutely. "Where are you going my dear?" he asked gently.

"Anywhere." She replied, her voice rough with the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

"You can't run forever Razi." He said quietly.

"Sarai." She corrected, wiping her eyes. "Razi is my middle name."

He shook his head. "Regardless, Sarai, running solves nothing and will only exhaust you."

"I was not going to run." She sighed, closing the door. "I...I have a life here, I just cannot..." she looked up at him miserably. "I just cannot stay in the house. I, uh, I still have few months on my maternity leave, and then I will be back to work, so I...I need to be done moving before then."

"Where are you going?" he asked again.

She shrugged. "I will find a place."

"Well, I have a very big house, and no one in it." Said Ducky thoughtfully.

"Oh, I couldn't intrude, Ducky." She murmured, smiling at the offer.

"Nonsense." Replied the Scotsman firmly. "Plenty of room for the lovely lass and the two bonny babes, hmm?" he saw that she was going to argue, and raised a hand to stop her. "It's an empty house that desperately needs a modern woman's touch. I insist, my dear girl."

She hugged him tightly. "Thank you Ducky." She murmured gratefully. "Thank you so much." She followed his car back to his house and he helped her carry her things up to the guest room. When they'd gotten the twins settled in for a nap, he led her downstairs and fixed a couple of cups of tea while she sat at the kitchen table. He gave one to her and she flashed him a grateful smile as he sat down. "Did Jethro ever tell you how we met?" she asked quietly.

"No." Ducky shook his head. "Although he did imply that it had something to do with his time in Moscow."

She gave a small laugh, wiping at her eyes hastily. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. It was not the first time, though. When I was a girl, almost fifteen, I did not do much spy work, just.... No one expects an assassin to be a child." She finished bitterly. "But, uh, my mother sent me to Queens on an assignment, a drug dealer, nothing really big. And Jethro was on a stakeout there. I did not realize he was watching me until after, and I...I thought it was funny, so I smiled at him." She paused, gazing down at her tea thoughtfully. "He reported the kill, but I was long gone, and a couple of months later, I was at the store with one of my contacts, and he saw me. We talked for a minute, or, I talked and he listened. And he let me go. It confused me, that he would do that, and I looked into him a little more. Then in Moscow, he thought I was tracking them, and he just started flirting with me. I do not know why I did it, I do not think I ever will, but I asked him if he wanted...if he wanted to come home with me."

Ducky watched her intently, and she was far away, in her own memories. He touched her hand where it sat on the table and she looked up at him, brought back to reality. "I'm honoured that you would share this with me." Said Ducky gently. "But, may I ask why?"

"Grandperé would have liked you." She answered, wrapping her hands around her cup of tea. "You are a lot like him. He always told Mamá, you're going to ruin that girl." She said, fading back into memories. "They thought I could not hear them, but I could. He gave up eventually, he saw that I was having fun, so he just tried to keep me a child as much as he could. I hated him for it until he was killed, and then I understood. He was trying to keep me from entering that world before I was ready. But I was already in it then, so I made myself ready. That was all I had left to do." She glanced up at Ducky curiously. "Would you mind if I told you a story?"

Her skin had taken on a golden tint over the months in the sun, and she looked more beautiful than ever. She was sitting in the sand, watching the tide lap at Jaedyn and Benjamin, and her eyes were warm and soft and happy, no hint of the old pain that used to always lurk just behind them. She seemed to feel him watching her and turned her head, laughing. He smiled back and walked over, sitting down next to her. She reached down to the water, cupping her hand and...

"I'm about out of patience with you Probie." Declared Mike as he recapped the water bottle after having splashed his old partner with it. Gibbs sat up, slowly, rubbing his forehead. "It's been four months since you went back to help clear that Israeli girl of yours, five since you first showed up here, and you still haven't apologized to that pretty little thing you married. What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Razi can take care of herself." He muttered, slowly waking up. "Besides, she won't take to well to me showing up at the front door until she's cooled down a little."

"Are you crazy?" demanded Mike. "Cooling down takes a couple of days, tops, it's been months! You've basically told the girl you're done with her Jethro! She's probably been at her parents' house for the last three months, and they've gotta be ready to kill you."

Gibbs shook his head. "Razi isn't going back to her parents." He told Mike tiredly. "Look, what am I supposed to say to her Mike? Hey, sorry it took so long, but I'm ready to come home now, what's for dinner? Really? She'd shoot me."

"Yeah, well at this point, I'd say you deserve it." Retorted Mike. "Besides, a little thing like that, she can't be such a good shot."

"The woman used to be a Mossad assassin, Mike." Sighed Gibbs, rubbing his eyes and pushing himself to his feet. "She shoots me, that bullet's going exactly where she wants it to."

"Hell, that's still no excuse!" exclaimed Mike. "I thought you were a marine, Probie, why don't you act like one and tell her to her face that you're done with her, instead of hiding behind a border like a coward."

"I can't tell her that." muttered Gibbs.

"Why the hell not?" Mike demanded. "That's what you're saying by staying here, the only difference is, if you say it out loud, she can get on with her life, just go and tell her you want a divorce."

"But I don't!" retorted Gibbs, his temper getting the better of him. "Why the hell would I lie about that? I love her, why would I want a divorce?"

He stopped, realizing what he'd said, and Mike grinned. "You're a damn fool, Jethro. If you love her, you'd better go and tell her that before she serves you divorce papers."

The house was empty. Well, not empty, but empty of her. Gibbs sighed, dropping down on a box in the basement. Of course she'd have cleared out when he decided to stay in Mexico, and of course she'd have done it so thoroughly. She used to do this for a living, you idiot, he thought to himself. There was nothing left in the house that hadn't been there before she moved in, nothing to show that she'd existed in his world at all. He shook his head, furious with himself. "Why didn't I come home when you asked me to baby girl?" he asked himself quietly.

"Am I interrupting something?" asked Fornell from the top of the stairs.

"What do you what Tobias?" sighed Gibbs. He didn't feel like trying to explain to the man what was going on.

Fornell's expression was solemn. "A favour."

Gibbs waited for the rest of the team to leave autopsy before asking his question. "Have you talked to Razi lately, Ducky?" he asked quietly.

"No." replied the ME tersely.

"Would you tell me if you had?" asked Gibbs, wryly.

"No." repeated Ducky. "You knew what it would do to that girl to break her heart, yet you did it anyway. Now would be a good time for you to break your moratorium on apologies, but it still wouldn't make up for what you've done."

"I know that Duck." Sighed Gibbs. "I know there's nothing I can do, but I've got to try."

Ducky turned on the agent, furious. "That girl put every last bit of trust she had into you, and you walked away from her, Jethro. If you had any heart at all, you'd stay the hell away from her. Let her heal in her own way and stop breaking open old wounds. And get rid of that damn mustache!"

It was a long shot, she'd probably left Virginia entirely, but it was worth checking. He kept telling himself this as he parked at Waverly and headed towards his wife's classroom, or what had been her room if she was gone. The mustache was gone, and he'd looked everywhere else before going to talk to her in such a public place. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her voice, clear and confident, from inside the room. Just to be on the safe side, he waited outside the door until the bulk of the students had left, and then went in. She looked up once at the sound of his footsteps, then went back to her papers, ignoring him completely. He rolled his eyes. It was better than being shot at, he supposed. He came up to the table and touched shoulder lightly. "Hey." He said quietly, watching her dark head. "Can we talk?"

"Not unless you are comfortable being yelled at in Hebrew." She replied, not looking up. "Why don't you go back to your damn beach, Jethro, I am sure Camilla is wondering where you are."

"I don't have an excuse, Raz." He began carefully, but she cut him off, her tone biting.

"Oh, that will be a first, will it not?" she laughed, her accent getting heavier as she fought with her emotions. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs admitting he has done something wrong. Go tell your team you are sorry, Jethro, because I do not want to hear it."

She got up and started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Well you're going to." He retorted, frustrated. "We have a half an hour, and I'm going to use it."

Sarai looked him in the eye, and for once he couldn't read what they were saying, couldn't read her. "No, I am." She replied quietly. She strode to her office and he followed, a little nervous about being alone with her. She closed the door behind him and turned around, her expression cool. "I put up barriers for a reason, Jethro, I have every reason never to trust anyone. But you were never very good with boundaries, were you? You broke down every wall I ever put up, you made me trust you, you made me love you, you just kept working at it until I had nothing left to protect me. All that time, I was telling you things, letting you decide what happened to us, I was yours, completely, and what I got back was 'I love you', and that was enough. I believed you every time you said it, and when the babies were born, you looked so happy, and I thought, maybe I had gotten through a little of your shell, maybe you could be happy like that, with me. But you were not. Me, Jaedyn and Benjamin, we were not enough to hold you here. You made decisions for you, Jethro, not for us. You did not know what you wanted." He had listened to her rant in silence and now that she was done, she was waiting for one of his arguments, but he didn't make one. He just stood quietly, watching her with sad eyes. Finally, she couldn't take the silence anymore and she fell. "Are you going to say something?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "You're right." Was all he said. She just stared at him, surprised. "I had no idea what I wanted or what I was doing, all I knew was that in '99 we were in love, and you might have the answers I needed about Ari. I had no right to come back into your life the way I did, but the second I saw you, it was like being back in Moscow when you were walking next to me, letting me hold you, and you just looked so sweet and beautiful. I couldn't help myself, I never can with you. The year I had with you was better than anything I could have imagined and it was only getting better. I just got so confused with the coma, nothing made any sense, and I was just trying to figure out how to make everything fit together in my head again. I know I screwed up, no one has to tell me that, and nothing I do or say is going to make up for it, there is no excuse. But I've spent all of the last five months trying to figure out where the hell I went wrong, and I know what I want now. I want my family, my beautiful spy," he reached out hesitantly, and she let him touch her cheek. "My kids, my team, that's my family, and I'm begging you to give me just one more chance. I won't screw up this time, I swear." His hand was pressed to her cheek and he stepped closer, expecting her to pull away, to yell at him, something, but she stayed perfectly still, her eyes locked on his, frozen. He slipped his hands into her hair and pressed his lips to hers carefully.

Both of their breathing was ragged as he moved hesitantly to her jaw, her neck, her throat. "If you do anything like this again, I will kill you." She whispered, closing her eyes and letting the sensations wash over her.

"Ducky'll get to me first." Laughed Gibbs quietly, pulling back but keeping one arm coiled around her waist and the other rubbing her cheek soothingly. "Does everyone react this strongly to you?"

"Only men." She replied, smiling with amusement. "Women are much better at letting me take care of myself."

He smiled back, letting go of her waist to twine his fingers with hers. "Are these women who know you're packing?" he asked dryly.

"No, only you and Ducky know about that." she replied smugly. "I know what I am doing, Jethro, I have been doing it for...." the door opened and a dark, petite college girl jumped, embarrassed, as Sarai freed herself from her husband. "Yes Sarah?" murmured the Israeli, slightly flushed.

"Oh, God Professor, I'm sorry, I...I can come back." Stammered Sarah.

Gibbs offered an easy smile. "It's alright, I was just leaving." He maneuvered around the girl, nodding to the two women as he left.

"What can I do for you Sarah?" asked Sarai again, a little more controlled this time.

Sarah McGee leaned back against the wall, watching her brother work quietly. "I saw your boss at my school today." She said conversationally.

McGee glanced up, surprised. "Doing what?" he asked, curiously. "NCIS doesn't have any business there."

Sarah cocked her head pointedly. "But he did. Very, very hot business."

"Gibbs is dating a college student?" asked McGee incredulously.

"No, one of the professors." She corrected. "Uh, Political History, Sandors I think."

"How could you tell they're dating?" he asked curiously.

She rolled her eyes. "It was kind of obvious, they were standing reeeally close together," she pressed her hands together to make a point and then twined her fingers together. "And they were holding hands, and he had his hand on her cheek and everything. She's married you know, I saw the ring."

"Not to Gibbs." Commented McGee dryly, leaning back in his chair. "He's been married four times, and he's as much of a player as Tony. Plus, he just got back from Mexico a month ago."

"They're having an affair?" Sarah shook her head. "Weird."

"Huh." He frowned again. "Gibbs doesn't seem like the type. Then again, that might be why he's been married four times. What's she look like?"

Sarah thought for a moment, picturing the dark beauty. "Green eyes, black hair, probably dyed, body like a swimsuit model." She said decidedly.

"Sounds more like Tony's thing than Gibbs's." Laughed McGee. "I'm sure you're just missing some part of the story."

He came back that evening, just as she was packing up. "I don't suppose you've forgiven me enough to come home." He observed quietly.

"I am just not ready yet." Sighed Sarai, latching her bag. "It has been too long, and I still.... We just need to give this time."

He nodded, looking disappointed, but not surprised. "Can I at least say 'hi' to the twins before you go?" he asked.

"Yeah." She bit her lip gently. "Come on. They are getting so big, you know, and Ben's eyes are getting lighter." She led the way out to the child-development centre and when they got there, she signed the log, turning to the woman who had come over to greet them. "How did they do today, Kelsey?" she asked with a smile, going over and picking up Jaedyn. The little girl didn't put up too much of a fuss about being buckled in, although her expression was quite clear about not liking it.

"They were fine, Kyra, Ben's just been quite happy about being able to move around these last couple of days. Jae's really quiet, though, and I haven't found anything she's interested in besides the people. She just sits and watches." The young woman frowned slightly, helping Sarai gather the pieces that had spread from the twins' bag.

Sarai laughed, petting her daughter's head briefly. "She takes after me." She murmured. She caught up Ben as the boy sped towards her on all fours. "Just like this one takes after his father." She added. Ben was buckled in next to his sister before he had a chance to put up a fight and the two babies exchanged a furious look. Gibbs smiled, fully aware that the statement was aimed at him more than the young woman. "Speaking of which...." Sarai glanced at him dryly. "Kelsey, this is my husband, Jethro. He has been away for a while."

"Nice to meet you." Smiled Kelsey, shaking Gibbs's hand.

"You too." He agreed. "I'll get those Kyra." He shouldered the twins' bag and Sarai's as well, nodding to Kelsey as he moved away.

Kelsey peeked after him. "Strong and silent type, huh?" she observed sympathetically.

"Marines." Replied Sarai, and Kelsey's expression lit up with understanding. "What can you do? Thank you Kelsey." She pushed the stroller after Gibbs, heading towards the car. She settled Jae and Ben into their car seats and popped the trunk, putting everything else into it. Gibbs was standing by the open door, playing quietly with Ben. She folded her arms across her chest, watching. "Benjamin never stops moving, Jaedyn never really started, she is a perfectionist, watches her brother first, then does it on her own. They are both stubborn as hell, he has got a word or two, she does not make much sound at all."

"I'm sorry baby." He sighed, looking up at her sadly. "I never meant to for this to happen."

She avoided his eyes carefully. "You could have called." She pointed out. "I did not change my number."

He nodded slowly. "I was afraid you'd hang up." He said softly. "Look, I know this sounds pathetic, but please don't make me go home alone again. Waking up without you for six months is more than I care to deal with."

"You are right." She replied, closing the car door gently. "It does sound pathetic. If you think it was any easier for me, Jethro, you are mistaken, but I am not ready to trust you that much right now. I have to go." She walked around to the other side of the car and got in, backing out carefully. He watched her drive away and headed over to his own car. He hadn't expected it to be easy, but he was beginning to realize how much he'd been hoping it would be.

Sarai started awake to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand, switching the lamp on. She pushed herself up, tucking it under her ear. "Sandors." She murmured tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

"I woke you up didn't I? Sorry."

His voice made her even more awake and she pushed the covers back, glancing at the clock. 8:30, was it really so early? It felt later somehow. "Jethro. No, I.... Never mind. What is it?"

"Just taking you up on your suggestion to call." He replied. "Have you been at Ducky's this whole time?"

She started. "You followed me?" she laughed. "That is sweet Jethro, a little creepy, but sweet."

"I'd come in to see you, but I'm a little afraid of Ducky right now." Said Gibbs, amusedly.

"That's probably a good idea." She agreed, then paused. "Wait, are you here?"

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Look out your window Juliet."

She got up slowly, moving to the window and pulling back the curtains, and there he was. He raised a hand, giving her a little wave, and she smiled. "You brought me flowers." She observed quietly.

"I remembered that you said you liked white roses once." He said hopefully. "I was hoping I could ask my wife out on a date. I'll even cook."

"It will have to be a double date." She murmured, sitting down on the window seat and tucking her feet underneath her. "It is almost impossible to get a sitter for two infants."

"I wouldn't want it any other way Raz." He assured her.

She bit her lip, glancing at the twins, sleeping quietly. "Alright." Then, just to earn back her advantage she teased, "I did not know you could cook."

"I can't." he laughed. "But I'll try. It can't be that hard, can it?"

She smiled, stifling laughter. "Not all of it." She agreed, amused. "Goodnight, Jethro."

"Goodnight Razi." She let the curtain fall back across the window and turned out the light as she curled back up under the covers. The sound of a car door closing and the engine turning over told her that he had left. She sighed and buried her face in the pillow. Damn him for being so sweet, she thought to herself. But it was too late, she was falling all over again.

She had parked in the driveway five minutes ago, but she couldn't get out. All she kept doing was replying the various scenes from the last couple of days, Gibbs's very persuasive argument at the college, his performance at Ducky's house, and of course, Ducky's reaction to hearing about it.

"He's trying Ducky, he really is." She insisted. "He really does mean it."

The Scotsman just looked at her and, as always, she was sure he could see right through her, just like Jasper always had. "It's not me you need to convince of that my dear." Was all he said.

Sarai sighed and opened the door. As if on cue, Gibbs came out front, pulling Jaedyn out of her car-seat carefully. The little girl looked at him for a moment and then curled into him with a contented sound. He smiled softly, a little surprised by the interaction. "She remembers you." Sarai told him quietly. "She is very shy, takes a while to accept new people."

"A child of habit." He laughed, nestling Jae into his shoulder. "What a surprise." Sarai rolled her eyes at him and picked up Ben, shouldering the inevitable baby-bag. "Come on, dinner's ready."

It only took a month or so for her to move back in, it really was nice to have help with the twins, and Gibbs was very good with kids. He remained sweet and careful, not wanting to push whatever trust he'd gained with her. But his caution only made it harder for her to hold her barriers up, and it wasn't long before she realized that they were moving around each other comfortably again. There were no more eggshells to walk on and she no longer felt that flash of uncertainty when he said he loved her. The twins were just a couple of months short of a year old and her own birthday was approaching quickly. She decided that for once in her adult life, she would find a way to celebrate, and she was pretty sure she knew how to do it. When she woke up that morning, she sighed, not particularly happy about being thirty, and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. She felt him move next to her, and he ran his hand along her back gently. "What's wrong?" He asked, concerned. His throat went dry as he caught sight of the flash of scarlet silk under the blankets, right next to creamy white skin. She may have moved back in, and he wasn't sleeping on the couch, but, aside from a few stray kisses, their relationship had remained strictly platonic since he got back. He recognized this as a sign of some lingering trust issues, and hadn't pushed at all, but he was starting to go a little crazy. "Raz?"

"Today is my birthday." She replied, her voice muffled by the pillow, and she turned her head to look at him, resting it on her arms. "And I feel older."

He smiled, relieved. "You don't look older." He laughed, pushing the covers back. "You haven't changed much in the last decade, baby girl."

"Thank you Jethro." She murmured, smiling gratefully. She got up and walked over to the dresser, pulling out the red silk top that she knew drove him crazy and a pair of jeans.

He watched her dress, trying not to swallow his tongue at the way the fabric curved with her body. "So how old are you?" he asked curiously.

"Thirty." She replied absently, fixing her hair. She glanced back at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his body for a second. "Thirty and married for a year and a half. That is not something I ever expected to say about myself."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Murmured Gibbs, his eyes soft. "So, since it's your birthday, do you want to do anything?"

"No." she leaned over and kissed him softly, slipping her tongue past his lips to explore gently. "The last time I celebrated a birthday, I was sixteen years old, and I do not care to remember that particular birthday."

He frowned. "Why not?"

Her eyes lifted to his, her body still leaning to be near his lips, and she moved her fingers through the short hair at his temples. "Grandperé had just died." She replied quietly, her eyes darting to his mouth and back, and she kissed him again. "My mother was trying to cheer me up, but I was not interested." She straightened up, self-consciously. "I had better go wake Ben and Jae." She disappeared and he felt a stab of guilt at having to ask a stupid question at the same time as he was grateful that she trusted him enough again to answer at all. He sighed, rubbing his eyes, and got up. By the time he'd showered, dressed, and made his way out to the kitchen, Sarai had gotten both the twins up and ready to go. He never ceased to be impressed by the way she managed to keep their adventurous son out of trouble without looking like other harried mothers. He picked the little boy up just in time to keep him out of the silverware drawer. "You do love trouble, my little man." He laughed, rubbing Ben's back lightly.

Ben stuck his thumb in his mouth, a self-satisfied smile on his face, and giggled. "No trouble." He announced decidedly. "No trouble, Papá."

"Yeah, that's what you said yesterday, too." Chuckled Gibbs, setting him back down on the ground. Ben trundled over to the table and sat down on the floor, still looking quite pleased with himself. Gibbs glanced back at Sarai to see her watching him amusedly. "Just what you needed, huh? Another troublemaker around the house."

"At least Ben is still too small to do much." She teased lightly. "I hate to think what will happen when he figures out that he can climb things." She handed him his coffee. "Say hello to Ducky for me. And thank him for dinner the other night, it was very sweet of him." Gibbs and Ducky had been getting along a lot better since Sarai had forgiven her husband and now their friendship was pretty much back to normal. The older Scotsman adored Ben and Jae and would often stop by for brief visits with his 'niece and nephew'. So far, Ben had figured out how to say Ducky, and Jaedyn had stopped hiding her face in her mother's arms when he came over, even reaching out to be held by the ME on occasion.

"I will." He agreed. "Good luck with the tests today."

She rolled her eyes and pushed him towards the door gently. "I ought to make you grade them for that." she muttered. He gave her a little wave and got into the car, driving off.

A small box sat on his desk when he got in to work that morning, and he picked it up, turning it over in his hand. He frowned curiously when he recognized Sarai's handwriting across the cardboard, slicing through the tape with a pair of scissors. He glanced inside and started, his eyes darkening at the contents. He pulled out the small receipt slip and blinked, incredulous. What the hell...?

McGee wasn't really paying attention to his boss, but the sound of Gibbs opening something made him look up. The team leader's reaction was completely bizarre and McGee watched, puzzled, for a second as Gibbs put the little slip of paper back and tucked the box under his desk, taking an extra big sip of coffee and turning on his computer. Gibbs glanced up at his agent, trying very hard to keep his expression clear but still a little wide-eyed, and McGee was surprised by the openness on his usually unreadable face. "What, McGee?" asked Gibbs, none of his usual annoyance in his voice.

"Uh, nothing Boss." Replied McGee, confused. "I just....Never mind." He went back to his report, wondering what had made his boss seem so...surprised.

When Gibbs's cell rang and he recognized his wife's number on the screen he swallowed. "Yeah?" he answered warily.

"I take it you got my package." She said, amused.

"Uh huh." He agreed, wishing he could find a way to make the conversation sound more normal as he noticed Tony's ears perk up at his caution. "I'm not exactly clear on the purpose, though."

"You have been a...perfect gentleman." She purred on the other line. "I thought this would make a very good birthday present, do you agree?"

"I don't really have an answer for that." he sighed, getting up and striding over to the elevator. He hit the button and waited impatiently for the silver doors to open.

"It was not very nice of me, I suppose." He could practically hear her smile. "But I really could not help it. It has been..." she paused, thinking. "About a year since I got to make love with you."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and stepped through the elevator doors quickly, slamming a button, any button, a little harder than he'd meant to. "I know." He replied carefully, watching the doors slide closed and begging them to hurry up. As soon as they were closed, he shut off the elevator. "I've been waiting for you to say you were ready." He said, a little less strain in his voice.

She noticed the difference, that much he knew. "I am ready." She purred seductively. "I even got all dressed up for you."

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the metal walls. Any hope he'd had of not spending the rest of the day picturing her in that damn shirt had just flown out the window. "What happened to you not celebrating birthdays, Razi?" he teased.

"My seducing you has nothing to do with my birthday." She murmured.

"Oh, okay. I suppose you think you're going to get away without me giving any hell back for this." He observed, amused.

"I had hoped so." She agreed.

"You know me better than that, baby girl." Laughed Gibbs. "You should have stuck with subtle, I've got warning, and I'm going to plan on a little fun for myself now." He could hear her breath hitch and smiled, pleased. "But I don't give hints. You're just going to have try to figure it out all by yourself."

They had both been going slowly crazy all day, each one having placed an idea in the other's mind about what their secret surprise was. Unfortunately, Gibbs knew that Sarai had the advantage of days to plan her seduction, rather than just a few last minute ideas, and her teases were much more tangible, much more difficult to escape from. The worst part was that damn receipt. Why the hell would she have bought.... No. He cut off that line of thinking, making another fruitless attempt to think only about work. Damnit, he was just going to have to wait, and waiting had never been something he was good at.

The house was in absolute darkness when he got home, but her car was in the driveway, so he knew she was home. He pushed the door open carefully and moved through the rooms one by one, getting a bit nervous. He climbed the stairs and peeked into Jae and Ben's bedroom carefully. Both of the twins were fast asleep and he closed the door again silently. He continued down the hallway to their room and stepped inside. She closed the door and locked it behind him, sliding her hands up over his shoulders. "I hope you brought that box home with you." She murmured, pulling his jacket off.

He turned around, pushing her up against the wall and setting his lips near hers, just barely touching. "Whoops." He replied with a smile. "You only got half your order anyway."

"Oh, I got all of it." She smiled back.

She slipped her fingers into his hair and yanked his mouth down, gasping as he slid his hands up her sides. They caught on the soft fabric of her shirt and he controlled the desire to twist his fingers into the fabric and see if it would hold under pressure. She trembled, feeling like he was going to swallow her whole, and she pressed as close as she could. He smiled against her mouth and pulled back, toying with her hair carelessly. "Well, I think this is going to be my night." He informed her confidently. "So you won't need it."

She cocked her head to one side, interested. "What exactly makes you think I will give up so easily?"

"You've never exactly been the dominant one in bed, Raz." He pointed out. "All I have to do is make you lose your breath once," he undid the buttons on her shirt slowly. "And this becomes my seduction."

"Arrogant." She rasped, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It's not arrogance if it's true." He retorted. She gazed up at him for a second and then darted away. He caught her by the waist, curling one arm tightly around her, and pulled her back against his chest. He played with the hem of her shirt for a minute before letting it hit the ground. "I really like that shirt." He said thoughtfully. And then he began his touching, brushing his fingers over her skin, exploring every part of her that he could reach. After almost a year and a bout of memory loss, he wanted to relearn every part of her body before he made love to her again, it felt a little like starting over. He was fascinated by the way she reacted to his touches, how soft she felt and how breakable, how quiet her sounds were, barely loud enough for him to hear, and the way she moved to fit his intentions. He pressed his lips to the crook of her neck, breathing in deeply. "You taste incredible." He murmured against her skin, appreciating her soft gasp at his words. "I missed this."

She laughed breathlessly, turning to capture his mouth with her own. "I am glad to hear it." She purred. "I guess this is your night."

His mouth curved into a smile and he traced a scar on her hip lightly, making a mental note of the fact that it made her whimper and press back into him. He found another scar and followed it from beginning to end, establishing the pattern. She loved it when he touched those marks of her dangerous past, even if she would never talk about how she got them. Then he found one on her belly, the one that had made her pregnancy so dangerous, and he flattened his palm against her, looking at her with a question in his eyes. She shook her head slowly and he kissed the tip of her nose. "Two is plenty." He promised her softly. "I love you Razi."

"I love you too Jethro." She pushed at her jeans impatiently and he laughed, amused. He helped her slide them down her legs, happy to have more to explore, and soon she was lost in his caresses, abandon written across her face. He brushed past her sex and she stumbled a little, catching herself on the bed frame. Her lips parted in a whisper-soft cry as he kept his fingers working against her and she trembled in his arms, desperate. Suddenly he stopped, placing a kiss on the back of her neck to show that he was done exploring, and she let out a mewl of confusion. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, hovering over her and kissing her until she was drowning. Clothes melted away along with caution, and he started tracing designs over her skin, leaving behind a trail of silky powder. She cuffed him lightly on the side of the head as he kissed along the trails, smiling. "I thought you forgot it at the office." She laughed breathlessly, arcing into his kisses.

"Weird." He rasped back. "I could've sworn it was still under my desk. I think I like the way you taste without the honey-dust better." He added thoughtfully.

Sarai lifted the container out of his hand and set it on the nightstand, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It was not for you." She purred silkily. "I had other plans for it, for us, when I thought I would be running tonight's entertainment."

"Maybe later." He cupped her cheek, kissing her deeply. "I think I've got a better plan for right now."

There's a visible change in interactions between people when they've slept together, some small decrease in tension once they're no longer trying to fend off their desire for fear of rejection or some other damage. It's not always something the couple themselves notice, but in this case, it was quite clear to both Gibbs and Sarai that the atmosphere had changed with this 'new' section of their life. Sarai lay her head on his chest, his arm draped around her shoulders. "That felt...very good." He sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead contentedly.

"There would be very little point if it did not." She pointed out dryly, licking her lips. Her body was humming pleasantly and she twisted her hair into a coil, letting it spill over her breasts. She was quiet for a moment and he glanced at her, curious, wondering where she was. "I think...." She began finally. "I think we should talk Jethro. There are...a couple of things I should tell you."

He sat up carefully, pulling her with him and she leaned back on his chest. "I'm all ears." He promised. If she was actually going to talk to him about her life, he certainly wanted to hear it, and he wouldn't make it any harder than it already was for her.

She chewed on her lip slowly. "In Russia, you asked me what my name was, and later you told me I could call you by your first name. But we both made substitutions. Jethro is your middle name, and Razi...Razi is mine."

He played with a lock of dark hair gently, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "I never expected you to have given me a name that would help me find you, not that first day." He shrugged. "And I didn't really expect you to fix the record either, I'm glad you feel safe enough to do it though."

"You are my husband, now more than ever." She replied thoughtfully. "We are a different kind of partner than Ziva and Agent DiNozzo are, then Michael and I were, but we are still partners in life, and partners have to be able to trust and rely on each other. I know I trust you, but for you to truly do the same, I have to tell you the truth, or at the very least tell you that I cannot say." She twined her fingers with his, eyes on the thin gold band around her finger. "The one thing I owe you, though, is my name."

"You don't owe me anything." He corrected gently. "And I do trust you, with my life, but I would love to know your name anyway."

"Sarai." She told him quietly. "Sarai Razi Davíd."

"That explains a lot actually." He laughed. "Does Ziva know?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. My half-sisters.... I tried to protect them as best I could, you know? But there is only so much you can do. Tahlia is dead, and Ziva, she has a broken heart. But at least neither of them ever had to do the things I did, at least Ziva has had you and your team to keep her from getting completely lost. I never did thank you for that."

"Ziva's a good girl." Replied Gibbs, proudly. "I wouldn't have been doing my job if I didn't teach her how to survive at NCIS."

"Thank you, regardless." She tipped her head back to kiss his jaw. "And thank you for listening."

Gibbs sank back down under the covers, holding her in his arms so that she was surrounded by his bigger body. "I like that you trust me." He told her, shrugging. "If it's important enough for you to want to talk about it, it's important for me to listen." She was warm and safe in his arms, and he could see the sleep in her eyes. "Go to sleep baby girl." He soothed. "We have forever now, remember?" She smiled and let her eyes fall closed. He watched as her breathing leveled out, dark lashes sweeping her cheeks as she slept, and he sighed heavily. Somewhere in Tel Aviv, a very pissed off Director of Mossad thought his eldest daughter had been missing for almost two years. Damnit.

Three years later.

Sarai lifted Benjamin up into her arms and away from the cupboard he was trying to open, carrying him on her hip as she fixed coffee. Gibbs appeared in time to see the three years old's face crease into an annoyed scowl. "Are you giving your mama trouble my little man?" he asked, amused.

Ben's expression brightened when he saw his father. "No." he replied innocently, curling his arms around his mother's neck and hugging her tightly. "I'm helping."

"Yeah, I'll bet you are." Laughed Gibbs. He came over and took the cup from Sarai, kissing her softly. "I really don't think you get paid enough for this job, baby girl."

She smiled and patted his cheek with her now-free hand. "But the benefits are excellent." She teased lightly, then sobered. "Be careful today."

"I'm always careful, Razi." He assured her, tussling their son's black hair absently. "What's different about today?"

Sarai frowned thoughtfully. "I do not know, I just feel like something is going to happen."

He saw that she was truly anxious about this feeling, so he nodded. "Alright, I will be especially careful." He promised his wife.

"Papá," Ben's little voice caught their attention. "Can I come with you today? I want to help catch the bad guys."

Gibbs smiled, apologetically. He might be completely in love with Sarai, but Jaedyn and Benjamin had both of their parents wrapped around their fingers. "Maybe another day, Bud." He offered, taking Ben from Sarai's arms carefully. "I think I'm going to listen to your mama about today, alright? I tell you what though, if we catch anybody, I'll be sure to tell you all about it." Ben nodded, perfectly content with this compromise. "Where's your sister?"

"Piano." Announced Ben assuredly. Sure enough, they heard the sounds of Jaedyn's piano practice from the other room.

The little girl was actually fairly good, for all that her hands weren't quite big enough to play fluently. Then the playing stopped and Jaedyn made her way into the kitchen. "Are you going Papá?" she asked in Hebrew, looking up at him with those unreadable blue eyes.

"English please, Jaedyn." Reminded Sarai gently, arms folded across her chest.

"But he needs to practice."

"I know, but so do you." Replied Gibbs, setting Ben down.

The boy scuttled off to play on his own and Jaedyn hugged her father's leg. "Okay Papá." She sang, her English only a little less accented than her mother's.

He smiled, kneeling down and pulling her dress straight. "Yes, it's time for me to go Jae-bird." He replied, struggling a little with the Hebrew. He could understand it perfectly, as he'd discovered with his wife's and Ziva's conversations, but forming the sounds himself was still a little difficult. "Make sure you play with the other kids a little, okay?" Jaedyn nodded and scurried off after her brother.

Gibbs pushed himself back up and glanced over at Sarai who had a soft smile playing around her lips. "You are a very fast learner." She murmured, uncrossing her arms and draping them loosely around his neck as he ran his hand along her hip and leg. "I should not worry about you so much, should I?"

He shrugged. "I worry about you and the twins every day, and you're just going to a college. You have every right to worry. But I promise you that I'm going to be okay."

She nodded, sliding her hands back over his shoulders to his chest with a sigh. "Alright. Go be a hero Jethro, you are good at it." He kissed her softly, rubbing his thumb over her cheek and locking their eyes in a silent promise before he left. She sighed, touching the star at her throat absently. Something was happening, she could feel it, but she had no idea what it was.

When he was late that night, she told herself not to panic. If anything had happened, Ducky would have called by now, she reminded herself. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind then her phone went off. Fear bloomed inside her, but she bit it back. It might not be Ducky, her students called her all the time on her cell, right? But she was still afraid and she had to take a deep breath before she could answer the call. "Sandors."

"Hey baby girl, sorry I didn't call sooner, I've been a little busy."

She breathed a sigh of relief, mentally scolding herself for putting so much stock in a feeling. "It is alright. I guess you are calling to say that you will not be coming home tonight."

"Sorry." He murmured again. "I'm going to be out in Stillwater for a while, a couple of days at most."

"Stillwater?" she asked, incredulously. "What are the odds?"

He sighed and she could tell he wasn't happy about being back in his hometown. "Apparently just good enough. Are you going to be alright without me?"

She smiled, amused. "I think I can manage." She agreed, feigning thoughtfulness, but then she was serious again. "Are you going to be alright Jethro?" she asked quietly. "Seeing your father again? And all the memories?"

"I'll be fine." He promised, and she recognized the hint of uncertainty in his voice, masked by determination. "Are Jae and Ben already out?"

"No, well, Ben is." She corrected. "I put him to bed about twenty minutes ago, but Jae won't go to sleep until she gets to say goodnight."

"Go ahead and put her on." She could hear the laughter in his voice and she passed the phone to their daughter. Jaedyn chatted for a minute with Gibbs, and when she gave the phone back, she curled up with her head in her mother's lap, asleep instantly.

Sarai brushed her fingers through the little girl's dark auburn hair absently as she tucked the phone under her ear. "So what is your case about?" she asked curiously.

"A couple of marines got attacked outside a bar and we think it was Lance Corporal Lacombe who was the intended victim." Answered Gibbs readily. He'd shared investigation scenarios with his wife more than once and she had often had good insight into the cases. "His aunt, next of kin, lives in Stillwater. He was a bit of trouble here, stole a car, almost got involved with the local coal king's daughter, etc. Only trouble is, everyone thought he was dead."

"The girl, has she got a new boyfriend?" asked Sarai.

"She's married." Agreed Gibbs. "A manager at her father's mine. Their son is almost six."

Sarai thought for a moment. "Well it is one of them. A girl who feels scorned, a husband who feels he was a second choice, or a father who was trying to keep away an unwanted son-in-law."

"I don't think it's the girl." He said thoughtfully. "But it is a good point. I'd better go, but I'll call when we're heading back."

"Goodnight, my handsome marine." She smiled, and she knew he was smiling on the other end of the line as well.

"Night Raz."

She hung up and slipped her cell back into her pocket, glancing at the sleeping form of her daughter. "Come on, Jaedyn." She murmured, lifting the girl up into her arms and carrying her up the stairs to bed. She peeked into Ben's room as she passed, checking that he was still asleep, and then tucked Jaedyn into her own bed gently. "Sleep sweet my angel." She murmured as she closed the door softly.

Sarai jolted awake with a gasp, a hand on her heart and breathing heavily. Gibbs ran his hand along her back soothingly until she was breathing normally again. "I wish you'd tell me about it." He said quietly as she curled back up under the covers, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Nothing to tell." She murmured dismissively. "It was just an assignment, just a memory." Even behind her closed eyes she could see Jacob's face, twisted in the heat of the moment. She had no idea why the nightmare was coming back, but she had no intention of admitting her shame to her husband, no matter how sweetly he asked. She had thought about talking to Ducky, after all, she'd already told him the story, all of the stories, of her life, but she hadn't let go of the hope that the nightmares would go away on their own. "Go back to sleep, I am fine." He watched her eyes fall close and her breathing even out, but before long, he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks and he just sighed, wrapping his arms around her like he could protect her from her own mind.

The dreams had stopped and life had been normal for a couple of weeks. Gibbs had been invited to a Christmas dinner at Ducky's house along with the rest of the team, and, while the Scotsman had extended an invitation to Sarai as well, she had declined. Gibbs had wanted to turn down the invitation as well but Sarai and Ducky both ganged up on him to make him attend. It was set for Christmas Eve and even now at the last minute, Gibbs was trying to back out. They had long ago decided that religious celebrations would not be a big deal in their house, but he still didn't want to leave his wife and the twins home alone.

Sarai rolled her eyes at him as she finished the dishes. "You have to go, Jethro, they are your family too." She pointed out. "And they will worry if you keep turning down invitations. Besides, all you will be doing if you stay home is watch me grade papers, I am still up to my neck in midterms."

He sighed and handed her a towel, watching as she dried off her hands and folded it over the stove handle. "You're putting your parents through hell, you know that Razi?" He caught her hand, turning it over in his own absently. "And I'm not allowed to be nearly as proud of you, Jae, and Ben as I'd like to be. Alright, I'll go."

"Good." She smiled and kissed him softly. "Have fun, relax a little." Prompted Sarai. "And give Ducky my love. Now go!" she practically pushed him out the door and then went back to cleaning.

Later that night, she went upstairs to check on the twins, pleased to see that Jaedyn had gone to sleep even though her father hadn't been home. She was moving back towards the stairs when a part of her mind that had long been silent warned her that something was wrong. Sarai pulled her seven-shot from the waist of her jeans and moved silently down the hall, her training returning to her a little too easily for her own liking, although she wouldn't argue with it for now. She moved down the stairs warily, and stepped into the living room, and then something hit her head and the last thing she heard before she blacked out was the report of a gun.

Jaedyn had pretended to be asleep when her mother came in so that she wouldn't get in trouble for staying up, but she didn't want to go to sleep until she'd said goodnight to her father too. But when she heard the crash, she jumped up. She slipped out of her room and down the stairs, then froze, terrified. She watched in silence, tears pouring down her cheeks, until the stranger had gone and she heard a car start up in the distance, then she rushed over to Sarai. She dropped down on the floor next her mother, shaking the woman and crying harder when she got no response. "Mamá!" she wailed. "Mamá!" She was still sobbing, screaming in Hebrew, when Matthew Erickson, who lived in the house right next door, came running in. He took one look at Sarai on the floor, eyes closed and the pool of blood spreading underneath her, and grabbed the house phone. He dialed 911, pulling Jaedyn over to him and hiding her head in his chest as he spoke hurriedly. "Send an ambulance, someone's been shot."

At Ducky's house, dinner was long over, and coffee and deserts were being served. McGee was flipping through channels to find something for them to watch while they chatted and Gibbs had stepped away to call home, just in case Jaedyn was refusing to go to sleep. Sarai's cell was ringing and ringing and no one was answering. He hoped that meant that everyone was asleep and tucked the phone back in his pocket just as he heard Ducky say, "Wait a minute Timothy, go back."

McGee flipped back to the previous channel. "Hey Boss, it's your house." He exclaimed, surprised.

Gibbs turned slowly, and froze. On the TV screen, his house had crime scene tape, reporters, and LEO's. "Oh, shit!" he whispered, then louder. "Damnit!" he turned and raced out of the house.

The rest of the team stared for a second, then looked back at the screen. "Turn it up Timothy." Ordered Ducky quietly, hoping his suspicions were wrong.

McGee turned up the volume and they listened in silence as the female newscaster spoke with a serious voice. "...of a federal agent was shot in their DC home this evening. Thirty-three year old Kyra Sandors, a college professor at Waverly University, was found by a next-door neighbor after he heard gunshots. It appears that she and their two children were the only ones home, and police say it's possible that her shooting had something to do with her husband's job as an NCIS agent. Sandors was taken to the hospital in critical condition, but it is believed that she will live. I'm here now with the neighbor who found her. Mr. Erickson, you are probably the only reason that she is going to live, can you tell us what happened?"

The man looked nervous, and a little uncomfortable. "I heard the shots, but I didn't think much of it at first." Replied Erickson, shifting awkwardly. "We hear lots of those, but they're never anywhere near this area. But I, uh, I heard the little girl crying, and I realized it was coming from Agent Gibbs's house. I'm a father myself, so I just went in. I'm not exactly sure what Jaedyn was saying, but it was pretty obvious what she was upset about."

"Sandors's daughter was the one to find her?" asked the reporter, her perfect poker face broken by shock.

Erickson nodded. "She's very shy, barely talks." He was quiet for a second then added something, more to himself then the camera. "This certainly isn't going to help, poor thing."

Ziva, McGee, Tony, Ducky, Palmer, and Abby all stared in shock through the interview, not sure what was more unbelievable, that Gibbs was married with two children, or that his wife had been shot and taken away in critical condition. Suddenly, Gibbs's car appeared on the edge of the screen, and they knew he must have broken just about every traffic law in existence to get there so quickly. Gibbs stepped out of the car and flashed his ID at the officer by the tape. Unfortunately, a nearby reporter with really good eyesight caught sight of the name and jumped, and of course the whole pack followed. They were peppering the agent with questions, but he ignored them. "No comment." Was all he would answer, but his usually unreadable expression had fear written all over it.

He ducked under the tape and tiny little girl flew at him. "Papá!" she cried, talking to him in rapid-fire Hebrew. He swept her up quickly, his Hebrew suddenly almost flawless as he reassured her, carrying her back to the house. He had been trying very hard to keep her out of sight, but one of the cameras managed to catch the little girl's face, scared and helpless, before he got far enough away.

Ziva took the remote from McGee who was staring, frozen, and turned off the TV. "I think we should go help him." She said quietly. She had a feeling, one that she didn't understand, but knew to follow, that was drawing her to join her boss, hinting at something that wasn't quite possible. "McGee, Tony, do you guys have your gear?"

"You couldn't keep her in the house?" demanded Gibbs, furiously, as he held his daughter tightly to his chest. "She's three years old!"

"She's fast." The officer pointed out apologetically. "We tried to keep her inside, but as soon as she saw you, she was outta there. Does she speak English? We've been trying to talk to her since we got here, but we don't have a translator and her brother hasn't said a word."

Gibbs sighed and set Jaedyn down, heading up the stairs and pointedly keeping his eyes away from the living room. He hurried up to his son's bedroom, and then his daughter's pulling out a stuffed dog for Ben and a doll for Jaedyn. He went back down to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. He knelt down by Ben, speaking in quiet Hebrew as he held out the dog. "Are you doing alright, Ben?" he asked.

Ben shook his head, and Gibbs wiped gently at the tear-stains on his face. Ben pushed the dog away. "I'm too big." He said uncertainly.

"I know, my little man." Replied Gibbs, tipping his son's chin up to look at him. "But I think Danny's upset and wants you to hold onto him for a while, can you do that?" Ben nodded mutely and crushed the stuffed animal against his chest, sitting down on the floor. Then Gibbs pulled Jaedyn over carefully, petting her dark head. She accepted the toy more readily than Ben did and she looked at her father sadly. "It's alright Jae, honey." He said, using the language he knew she'd always been more comfortable with. "You've been trying to tell them something huh? What is it?"

"That mean lady hurt Mamá." Whimpered the little girl in Hebrew.

"What mean lady, Jae? What did she look like?"

"Like Mamá, only with shorter blonde hair." Replied Jaedyn. "Mamá was on the floor and she had something like what you and Mamá do." She held her hand out like a gun and jerked it up once. "Bang! And then she spit on Mamá and kicked her and went away." Jaedyn put her little arms around her father's neck and buried her head in his shirt. "I want my Mamá!" she wailed.

Gibbs sighed, standing up and bringing Jaedyn up with him, her arms still locked around his neck as he held onto her. "NCIS will be taking over this investigation." He announced, grim finality in his voice. "It's our jurisdiction."

"Hell," shrugged the officer. "Whatever you want, our case loads are heavy enough as it is. We haven't touched anything since we got here, just taped off the area and got the names of all the EMT's. Here's the list." He tore off a sheet of paper and handed it to Gibbs. "Crime scene is in the living room, good luck." He gestured to his officers and they all traipsed out, leaving Gibbs alone in the house with Jaedyn and Ben.

Gibbs pulled his phone out and dialed. "DiNozzo, get your stuff together and get...."

"Already here Boss." Said Tony as he stepped through the front door, Ziva, McGee, and Ducky right behind him. "Abby and Palmer went back to HQ to get the lab and Autopsy ready."

Gibbs nodded shortly, setting Jaedyn back down and guiding her over to Ducky along with Ben. "Why don't you two go with Ducky for a little? I will come and get you as soon as I can." He promised. Ducky held out one hand to each of the twins and led them out to his Morgan, chatting brightly with them. He turned back to the team. "Living room." He said quietly. He caught Ziva by the arm, holding her back. As soon as the others were out of earshot, he spoke in an urgent whisper. "You see anything, anything at all that you recognize, anyone you know from Mossad, you keep your mouth shut, Ziva." He warned quietly. "The story I give is the story we're going to stick to until further notice, understand?"

Ziva swallowed, pain clouding her eyes. "It is her, isn't it Gibbs?" she asked, keeping her voice just as quiet. "Areille? She.... She was in Virginia all this time? With you? I should have seen it, shouldn't I?"

"There was no reason you would know, Ziva." Soothed Gibbs. "You both tried to get away, she just went about it differently. Just promise me that you'll help keep her cover as long as possible."

"Of course." Agreed Ziva. "I wouldn't betray Lela."

"Thank you." Gibbs looked relieved and the two of them made their way to the other room to join McGee and Tony. As soon as Gibbs saw the blood, he closed his eyes, turning away for a minute. When he finally looked back, he actually felt tears behind his eyes, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. "That's Kyra's." he said quietly, nodding to the seven-shot on the ground.

"Good thing you taught her to shoot Boss." Said McGee thoughtfully. "It's been fired, maybe she hit her attacker."

"She's Israeli, McGee." Sighed Gibbs. "She already knew how to shoot, and she didn't hit anybody, look." He pointed to the small hole in the wall. "The entry hole's almost vertical, her finger caught on the trigger when she got hit on the head."

"How do you know she got hit?" asked Tony curiously.

"Jaedyn was watching from the stairs." Replied Gibbs grimly. "What happened is not the problem, it's who and why. Can I let you three handle this?" he asked suddenly, finding that he couldn't stay in the room anymore. "This is your case DiNozzo." He turned and walked out, dodging another round of reporters as he got into his car and drove off.

Gibbs sat next to the hospital bed, petting her dark head gently, and watched her sleep. At least, it looked like she was sleeping, the nurse had told him that she was unconscious from the anesthesia before going into surgery. He preferred to think of it as sleep, that way it was that much easier to imagine that nothing was wrong and she would wake up soon, perfectly normal. He'd only been there a minute or two when a doctor came in, introducing himself as Dr. Anderson. "I'd like to speak with you for a minute, Agent Gibbs." He said, his voice very businesslike.

"Can we talk here?" asked Gibbs quietly, not looking up from his wife's face. "I need to be here when she wakes up. She doesn't like hospitals."

"She shouldn't wake up for at least another hour Agent Gibbs." Replied the doctor comfortingly, but Gibbs shook his head.

"I'd still rather stay here." He folded his fingers through hers, hating how pale and still they were, like she was.... No. He cut of the thought before it could finish.

Anderson didn't look happy, but he nodded. "There were a few older injuries I'd like to have cleared up before I let anyone stay in the room alone with her."

Now Gibbs looked up, sharply. "You think someone was abusing her?" he demanded, reading between the lines. "Never happened."

"I didn't say it did, I'd just like to know how she got all these."

Anderson handed Gibbs a mortifyingly thick stack of photos and he flipped through them until he got to the one on her belly. "This is the only one I know about." He said quietly. "When, uh, when Kyra was pregnant, the doctors were worried it would cause some trouble, so they wanted to know what it was. She said, uh, something about...about tripping with a chopping knife in her hand when she was a girl." He handed the photos back and looked up at the doctor expectantly. "As for the rest, all I can tell you is that she's had them since before we were together."

Anderson didn't look satisfied. "I find it hard to believe that you, as a federal agent and as her husband, wouldn't have tried to figure out what this woman went through." He commented.

Gibbs nodded slowly. "For a while I did. All I managed to figure out was that she'd been through some kind of hell. My wife and I had an understanding Doctor. She knew that if she ever wanted to talk to me about things, I would listen, as her husband, not an agent, and I've worked with enough victims in my life to know that nothing I said or did was going to make her ready to talk any sooner. I don't know where those scars came from, but considering she grew up in Israel, and they have a mandatory two years of service, I'd be willing to bet they came from her time in the military, which she has never talked about, with anybody." He lied. "Believe me, doctor, no one could've abused Kyra, she's stronger than anyone I've ever seen, and she doesn't put up with anything she doesn't like."

"Alright, thank you." The doctor looked much more satisfied with this answer. "Would you like to see her report?"

Gibbs was quiet for a second. "No. Agent DiNozzo will though, this is his case, not mine."

"Thanks, I'll call him." Then the doctor was gone and Gibbs went back to brushing his fingers through her hair, eyes locked on her face as he waited, hopefully, for her to wake up.

Sarai's dreams were full of the dark man who had helped to train her, and she woke up every morning curled tightly against the pain in her belly, her pillow soaked with tears. Then, one day, she woke with something more than an ache, a deep-set, wrenching nausea. She stumbled toward the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before she threw up. She picked up a test on her way to school the next day and ducked into the bathroom during lunch. When she saw the little plus, she felt sick again and she spent the next fifteen minutes doubled over the toilet, sobbing and throwing up. She started taking painkillers, heavy doses every day, starving herself for days and doing everything she could to destroy what that monster had left her with. And then it happened, she simply fell to the ground one afternoon and María had rushed her to a hospital, luckily not the same one she'd been brought to one the night of her grandfather's death. And then her world was chaos around her, she'd been shipped off to a hospital in Israel, everyone was fussing over her, her mother walked away from her assignment, even her father came to see her, and all she could see when she looked at them was the pity they had for her. She hated it. All she wanted was to go back to school and go back to the way things had been before, when it had all just been a game. When she finally heard the news that Jacob was dead, when she realized that even with him gone, her nightmare wasn't over, she snapped.

"This is your fault!" she flung at Jen one night, throwing things into a bag. "I hate you! This is your fault!"

"I know, Sarai, God, I'm sorry." Whispered Jen, everything her daughter said making her wish she could just disappear, stop existing. "Please, honey, I'm trying."

"No! You don't give a damn about me!" yelled Sarai furiously, tears running down her cheeks as she touched the necklace she hadn't taken off since this nightmare had begun. "You never did! You were ashamed of me, afraid I would slow you down! All you ever cared about was yourself, and your Goddamned assignments. Did you ever once think that if you maybe spent more than two months at a time with us, Grandperé wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't have been...." she stopped herself and shouldered her bag, pushing past her mother. "But no. While he was doing this, where were you? Fucking that damned agent you work with!"

"Don't talk to me like that young lady!" Jen exclaimed. "I have always done my best for you, I swear it! And yes, my best may be crap sometimes, but I'm trying! Where the hell are you going?"

"Anywhere." Retorted Sarai coldly. "As long as it's as far away from you as possible."

"Sarai Razi Sheppard, you are not leaving this house!" yelled Jen grabbing her daughter by the arm.

Sarai turned her head to look at Jen, and the red-head flinched back from the pain, fury, disgust, and deadness in her eyes. Disgust took over as Jen released the girl like she'd been electrocuted. "Go to hell." Sarai said icily. María had to catch Jen where she fell as the door slammed behind the sixteen year old, and the young agent curled up into herself, sobbing.

Gibbs felt her fingers twitch in his hand and his eyes darted to her face hopefully. But those miraculous green eyes were still closed, moving rapidly under the pale lids. He touched her cheek softly, and her skin was icy cold. "Please wake up Razi." He whispered. "I can't lose you, baby, please wake up."

She was running, running so fast that the world around her turned into a blur of dark colours in the night. Her whole body ached, and her lungs were ready to explode. She could barely get enough oxygen to keep running, but she did, and her eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, all stung with wind and rain, but she kept running. Her feet pounded on the ground, aching a little more with every time they hit a rock, or a curb, or a stick, or a piece of glass, or pavement. Her legs were screaming at her to stop, to let them rest, to collapse, but she couldn't. She had to get away, far away, from her mother, from her home, from the words she'd said and meant, even though she felt a knife twist in her heart as she remembered the broken, exhausted look Jen had worn for so many months as she put Sarai first even as the girl berated her for not doing enough, remembered the soft way she'd agreed with everything her daughter said, no matter how cruel. She couldn't breathe anymore, her lungs couldn't fight to draw air from the pressure that was closing in on them. She knew that she couldn't run anymore, that she had to stop, so she forced herself to take another breath and kept running. As long as she kept running, she would be okay. And then her brain shut down and her body stopped functioning. She collapsed to the ground, sobbing, because now that she'd stopped running away, everything had caught back up with her. She lay there, curled up tightly under the trees, not caring that she was soaked and dirty and cold. She didn't think she'd sleep, but suddenly it was morning, and there was a woman standing over her, a concerned look on her face. Her head hurt, everything hurt, and her brain was fogged and confused, and nothing made any sense, it hurt to try to figure it out, so she listened to what the woman said and allowed herself to be taken to a shelter. There, she'd cleaned up, sliced off her hair, and dyed it a soft, sandy blonde. Once she was sure she looked decent, she went out to find work, the first place that she could think of. She was standing outside the recruitment office in New Jersey, a set of papers in her bag that would fool even the United States Army, and a determination to get into Iraq, no matter what it took.

He'd gone home for the night, after all, Sarai would have been furious at him for neglecting the twins for her sake. But the next day, they were at Ducky's again, and he was back in the hospital, sitting, waiting. They'd said she would be awake by now, but she hadn't opened her eyes even once. The nurses weren't calling her unconscious anymore, they were saying she was in a coma, and he knew they didn't think he could hear. He could see that something was happening, when they checked the machine that was monitoring her heart and then stood far away from him, huddled together as they discussed something, but he was glad they didn't tell him what it was, that they never called her comatose when they thought he was listening. He wanted to believe that she was just asleep, that she would be awake any minute, and right now he would rather believe that she woke up when he wasn't there, and fell back asleep when he came back, than that she had never woken up at all. He didn't look up when he heard the door open and shut, he never looked up when the doctors came and went, that meant seeing their faces, seeing their pity for him, seeing their worry over Sarai's statistics, and he didn't want that. But the voice wasn't a doctor's, it was Ziva's and it was quiet and sad. "I've never seen her like this, Gibbs." Whispered the younger Israeli. "So small and fragile. Lela was never small, nothing and no one would dare to mess with her. She was Mossad's version of you. I don't think I ever saw her cry, or…or hurt."

"She hurt, Ziva." Sighed Gibbs, looking up reluctantly. The pain and worry in his agent's eyes was clear to him, even though she didn't let it seep past there. "She hurt a lot. But she loved you too much to let you see it, she wanted to keep you as far away from her world as she could, so it couldn't hurt you too."

"What about you?" asked Ziva quietly. "Did she do the same for you?"

"She tried once." Agreed Gibbs. "Only once."

She wore a uniform now, she was part of something bigger than just herself and her assignment. She had a family, one that relied on each other no matter what, simply because they had no choice, and for the first time in a year, she felt safe, needed, and beautiful. She was an enigma in the unit though. The 'nineteen' year old was an incredible fighter, was unstoppable. Bullets seemed to miss her, IED's always seemed to be just far enough away from her that she just got thrown around, never hurt. She was quiet, respectful, but her temper was well known throughout the camp. She was one of the few female soldiers, and the women tended to stick together, although Sarai wasn't really a part of the group. One of the soldiers, an older, but still young, freshly promoted officer, found her even more fascinating than the others did. She'd seen the blonde girl's roots, and put that together with the Star of David she refused to take off and her lack of a past to figure out that the girl was hiding something. The two were sitting on their bunks, lacing up their boots when Hollis asked the question. "Who are you really Alyssa?" she asked curiously. The other women weren't there and she felt comfortable enough asking.

Sarai glanced up at her friend/partner, and was quiet for a moment, analyzing her face. Finally, she decided it was asked for personal curiosity only. "Does it matter?" she returned, going back to her laces.

Hollis frowned thoughtfully. "I guess not, but I'd like to know. Why do you dye your hair, why do never talk about your family?"

Sarai smiled to herself, getting to her feet. "You're observant." She commented. "I ran away from home when I was sixteen. Lived on the streets a while, but I was a Navy brat, it didn't feel right to be living that way." She paused a moment, eyes far away, then snapped back. "I said some really awful things when I left, and I'm still not sure whether I meant them or not. But I do know that I'm not going home any time soon."

"And where is home?" asked Hollis dryly. "You recruited in New Jersey, but your accent isn't right."

"Virginia." Laughed Sarai. "I don't think I stopped running from Stauntford to Basking Ridge." She added quietly. "I don't suppose you would mind keeping all this to yourself."

"As long as I don't find out you killed somebody before you left," Shrugged Hollis, smiling. "I don't see why I should tell anyone."

"Thanks."

They headed out to the Caf, dropping down into seats next to the other women. Conversations turned quickly to home, as it often did, and Sarai smiled ruefully at Hollis as she stayed quiet. Finally, someone noticed her silence and tried to draw her in with a direct question. "Hey Lyssa, what are you going to do when we get back? Tour's only going to last another month or so."

Sarai shrugged. "I'm rotating back into the fight." She replied carelessly. "Not going home."

"Your boyfriend must not be too happy about that." laughed one of the other younger women.

"He understands." Replied Sarai thoughtfully, picturing Michael. He might not be a boyfriend, but he was the closest thing to it, and she knew she was telling the truth. "Michael will be shipping out soon anyway, I'm not sure where though."

The first woman to ask a question shook her head in amazement. "You must've been born to fight, Lyssa." She sighed to herself. "I don't know how you do it."

"She gets a kick out of leaving us guys in the dirt." Replied a man from the next table over before she could answer. "She's competitive."

"Maybe if you were too, you could actually beat me, Torres." Pointed out Sarai dryly.

"Oh, I'm going to today." Retorted Torres. "You'd better believe it." He turned to his friend's for support and some of them sided with him while the other shrugged apologetically.

"My money's on Malcolm." Apologized one officer. "I don't feel like taking the risky bet today."

Sarai rolled her eyes and went back to her breakfast. She knew that the other soldiers, mostly the men but occasionally the women, had a daily betting pool going on her talents. She had a feeling they'd stop if any of them knew how much experience she really had, not to mention her real age, but she certainly didn't intend to let them find out.

When their meal wave was over, the soldiers all headed out, snapping the clips into their weapons. Sarai was a little less comfortable with the big guns of the military than she was with the semi-automatic government issues her parents had supplied her with, but she was still one of the best shots in the unit, and she was getting better every day.

"Shouldn't she be awake by now Doctor?" Gibbs finally asked, tiredly.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs," sighed the doctor apologetically. "She should have woken up shortly after you arrived, but she certainly should have been awake yesterday. We're not sure what's wrong, but we're going to figure it out. It's always possible that she doesn't want to wake up, that's more than enough to keep her in a coma. The mind is a truly powerful thing."

Explosions rocked the world around them, and the walls were crumbling, falling, stone and shrapnel flying everywhere and Hollis and Sarai were thrown backwards. Hollis pushed herself back up, her body humming from the blast, and her head aching where she'd hit it against the stone wall. She turned with a thrilled laugh to her friend and her eyes widened. A huge gash lay across Sarai's hip and side, the girl's pale, shaky fingers pressed to the wound as the blood began to pool under her. "Lyssa!" she exclaimed.

Sarai looked up with a shaky smile that turned into a grimace of pain. "Don't worry Holly." She murmured, her breath coming in short gasps. "Hand me my pack." Hollis brought the backpack over, pulling out a cloth and trying to stop the bleeding, but Sarai shook her head and pushed her hand away. "Give it to me." She repeated. Hollis relinquished the medical supplies and Sarai pulled out a bottle of painkillers and a small, hand-wrapped package. She popped about six of the tablets into her mouth and swallowed them quickly, unwrapping her own supplies that she'd brought from home. Hollis watched in shock as the girl started working, practically an amateur surgeon. Sarai stitched herself back up, biting her lip until it bled to keep from screaming. The painkillers weren't an anesthetic, in fact the only thing they were good for was keeping her relaxed enough to sew up the hole in her side.

Hollis shook her head in disbelief as Sarai dragged herself back to her feet, bracing her body against the now-crumbling stone wall. The girl's eyes were screwed closed with pain and the strain of keeping silent. "What are you?" demanded Hollis incredulously.

Sarai's eyes fluttered open and she glanced at her friend, smiling weakly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She muttered back, barely able to keep standing up.

"Well it's going to take a while to get you back in this condition." Replied Hollis, pulling her friend's arm over her own shoulders to hold the girl up while they made their way back through the explosions. "So why don't you try explaining?"

The girl winced, leaning heavily on her partner, and took steady, careful breaths. "I didn't expect to get sent back this way." She laughed shakily.

"What way?"

"In handcuffs."

Hollis stopped moving and glanced at Sarai. "I haven't decided whether or not I want to believe whatever story you're about to tell me, don't make it harder."

"My mother is NCIS Special Ops." Murmured Sarai as they started moving again. "My father is in Intelligence. Let's just say they raised their daughter to be just like them."

"So, what, you're some spy for the U.S. Army?" demanded Hollis. "Or against it?"

Sarai shook her head. "What I told you, about running away, that was true. I'm here because it's the last place they'll ever look for me."

"So who's the real you?" asked Hollis.

"Sarai." Answered the girl. "Can we slow down a little?" Hollis nodded and slowed their pace even more. "I'm seventeen. I stole some papers from my mother so I wouldn't need a parent's signature on the forms." She winced again, breathing hard. "I grew up in the DC/Quantico part of Virginia."

"Son of a bitch." Muttered Hollis through gritted teeth. "Seventeen, for God's sake." She sighed and adjusted Sarai's arm around her neck so that the girl was putting less pressure on her wounds. "Alright, Sarai, we're almost there."

"You gonna get me...get me shipped back?" asked Sarai breathlessly.

"I really don't know yet." Replied Hollis grimly. "Right now I'm just worried about getting you properly fixed up."

Jen was standing by the window, staring out at the rain, when Gibbs arrived the fourth day and instantly he knew. "Five years." She said quietly. "He kept saying she'd come back when she was ready, that she'd done this before and she always came back. But we waited five years and she was still missing." She looked over at Gibbs suddenly, and there was exhaustion and grief in her eyes like he'd never seen. "Why, Jethro?" she asked softly, turning back around to face her daughter. "Did she ever tell you why?"

He nodded slowly. "She was afraid she'd get shipped back to Israel, back to work, if anyone found her. She said she'd stopped feeling anything when she killed and she didn't ever want to go back. She made me promise that I would keep you and Ziva away from her. I think you might have sent her back five years ago, but now? I don't think you would, I think you know that she wasn't going to come back this time."

Jen looked at her daughter, a hand over her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I need to know Jethro." She said quietly. "Am I a horrible mother? To have made my daughter so afraid of me?"

He was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to best answer. "I don't know." He sighed finally. "But somehow, I don't think you're the one who made her afraid."

Hollis kept silent about what she'd seen and heard, actually, she'd lied to protect the slim blonde girl who had confessed to her. She'd said that an Iraqi with some medical training had stopped to help them. The girl looked at Hollis with a new awe and respect in her eyes and the older woman prayed she'd done the right thing. Sarai never gave her friend a reason to doubt her loyalty, and when the tour was up, they both rotated back into the fray together. Hollis's intention had been to return stateside for the remainder of her enlistment, but Sarai's determination to stay where the fight was impressed her, and so she stayed as well. Sarai even took any spare time she had to teach Hollis a few of the things she'd learned over the years. It still seemed impossible that the girl was only seventeen, but Hollis found herself believing it anyway. The pair worked together until the day the blonde teenager's luck finally seemed to have run completely dry.

Sarai and Hollis were dodging bombs again, this time much more successfully than the last, and they were laughing with the rush from their last near-death when they heard the beeping warning of a detonation. Sarai's head whipped around and she saw a little boy standing over a small chunk of crumpled metal. She flew forward and pushed the boy away, ducking into the building just as the bomb went off. It was only a minor thing and Hollis started forward to check on the girl, but the building that had been Sarai's shield exploded, knocking Hollis back across the street. "Lyssa!" called Hollis, mortified. She rushed over, but the flames were too hot and the stone rubble lay heavily over everything. Hollis stumbled back, spilling a few tears for her friend before she started running back to the camp.

About fifty feet away, in the shadow of another building, Jen stood, holding tightly to her daughter, with a hand clamped over the girl's mouth as Hollis raced away. When the older blonde was finally out of sight and hearing, Jen let go of Sarai, turning the girl around to face her. "I'm sorry sweetheart." Murmured the red-head, hugging Sarai. The girl let her mother hold her, shocked to find that she'd missed the young agent more than she'd let herself realize. "Please just come home."

Both Gibbs and Jen looked up in shock as the beeping that was keeping time with Sarai's heart rate sped up. Not much, just a little, but a nurse came in quickly and checked the young woman's IV. The woman checked all of Sarai's vitals again and made a note on the clipboard before leaving again.

She was crying out for him, her body desperate for his touches, his caresses. Nothing in the world had ever felt so good, and she felt like she was going to die of pleasure before he could bring her to come. "Jethro." She breathed, running her hands over his body, memorizing and reveling in the strength under her fingertips.

"God baby girl, you feel incredible." He groaned, unable to believe what it did to him to have her small hands everywhere, to feel like she would only ever want him from now on. She kissed him feverishly, somehow managing to slow their bodies without diminishing the heat, and then she was floating, lost in the world it was so easy for him to bring her to. He wasn't sure what it was, but she seemed to shut off her mind towards the end, acting on instinct to get the most out of the experience for herself, and it made his time a lot more interesting too. He had also figured out that during that moment, when her mind was somewhere else, she was very responsive to orders.

When she tipped her throat up to him, he kissed it, accepting her offering, and her eyes lost a little of their haze as she returned. She brushed her lips over his contentedly, resting her arms lightly on his back. "I think I like this." She murmured with a smile, sliding her hands back to his shoulders and down his chest. "It gets better every time."

He kissed the corner of her lips, her cheek, her neck, and rested his lips by her ear. "That's because I figure out new tricks every time." He rasped, slipping a hand under her and tracing her spine and she arched into him, flattening her hands against his chest. "You have some interesting ones too, baby girl." He traced his finger along a pale, jagged scar on her side and she trembled, panting again.

"God, what you do to me!" she gasped. "I'm starting to think you're dangerous."

He smiled and lifted her head up to kiss her deeply. "Oh I am, Raz." He teased. He ran his hand down to her leg and hitching it up around him as he rocked forward again, never even giving her a chance to catch her breath before they were panting together again. She closed her eyes desperately, trying to push her body closer. "You have no idea what you've let yourself in for."

"They didn't show a picture Jen, how did you figure it out?" he asked curiously. For all that Sarai had been terrified that her mother and husband would be furious at the truth, they were both too tired and too worried for her, to have enough energy left to be angry.

"Kyra and Jaedyn are Israeli names." Replied Jen. "She always used Israeli names for her aliases if she could. "And the report said she was married to you. I'm not completely oblivious, Jethro, I knew you two were sleeping together in Russia. I just never really expected it to turn into anything, and when her father said she'd arrived in Israel, I figured I'd been right." She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "God, a grandmother. At least I feel old enough right now."

Gibbs shook his head, vaguely amused. "You know, it really makes so much sense and so little at the same time." He laughed.

Jen rolled her eyes and touched her daughter's cheek gently. "At least you made her happy." She murmured, more to convince herself than him. "She hasn't been happy in a long time. We certainly haven't talked much since she was...." Jen closed her eyes for a minute. "Sixteen. And that was more of a yelling match. Her temper's worse than mine."

"I thank God every day she isn't pissed off at me." Agreed Gibbs dryly. He'd been told off by his wife a few times over the years, but for the most part, the two were fairly calm with each other. He knew it would shock his team and her old coworkers to see just how little they argued or got annoyed. "What were you arguing about?"

Jen sighed, glancing at Sarai's face. "My father's death." She replied slowly. "She needed someone to blame and she decided that I could've stopped it if I'd been home instead of in Paris. At that point, I was still blaming myself as well, so of course I got pissed off. She walked out the door that night and I spent ten months looking for her. We couldn't seem to work things out, so I let her father have her. She wasn't nearly as angry with him. I think she liked seeing the girls more often. I don't suppose she talked to you much about Israel."

He shook his head. "Never. I think she was afraid I wouldn't like all the things she'd done."

"No, Jethro. She was afraid you'd be angry with her." Corrected Jen. "Because she lost the baby."

He started, looking up at his old partner in shock. "She was pregnant when she left?" he demanded.

"I guess she must've been." Agreed Jen. "She never said anything and then a few months after she arrived in Israel, she went missing for a couple of days. Apparently she'd been in the hospital for one and the cemetery for the other."

I'm in hell Jethro, and I won't let you join me here. Gibbs closed his eyes briefly. "I don't know what to do anymore, Jen." He sighed quietly.

"Now you know how I've felt for the last seventeen years." She said grimly.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring into the distance with her gun in her hand. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs tightly, clicking the safety on and off, on and off, on and off....

The rest of her life, her assignments, her missions, her mistakes, her assassinations, her laughter, her tears, were flashing in and out of this moment, and she was in all of her life at the same time, from childhood to her days as Kyra. Images were flipping past so quickly she could barely see them, but each one was burned into her mind and she could see every detail, every segment, every mistake, every miscalculation. Explosions, running through the New Jersey forest, gunfights, walking down the street with Ziva, Tahlia, and Michael, her grandfather giving her a little rag-doll, a puzzle-box, her necklace, roadside bombs, IED's, rooftop sniper teams, funerals, Israeli and American flags, stars, uniforms, disguises, suits, gowns at diplomatic events, a drug dealer dropping to the ground in front of her, smiling up at the former marine from the street, his kisses, his touches, his voice as he said he loved her, his child, her child, Jasmin, Alira, Jaedyn and Ben, Jacob's touch, his face, his grave, the nurses telling her they were sorry but..., suicide bombers, exploding ambulances, limping through Baghdad, more explosions....

All the pictures were making her dizzy, were making her head spin, hurt, pound, and all the while she was lifting the gun to her head, slowly but surely. The images were cycling through again, and she could feel her arm moving as she flashed through her life, felt the muzzle next to her head. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she couldn't make the pictures go away, they were everywhere, surrounding her, and tears were pouring down her cheeks as she turned the safety off one last time.

The monitor was practically smoking, her heart was racing so fast, and Jen and Gibbs were ushered out as the crash cart was wheeled in. Jen covered her mouth, tears stinging behind her eyes, and turned away, unable to watch the rush and panic in her daughter's room. And suddenly there was nothing. No more beeping, no more chaos. Gibbs moved slowly and they didn't stop him. He sat back down next to Sarai, weaving his fingers through her left hand and lifting it to his lips. "I can't lose you Razi." He whispered in the Hebrew she'd taught him. "Please, you can't be gone. You have to fight, honey, you promised me, remember? You promised me that if there was anything you would always be able to do, it would be survive. You said you would always survive. Jae and Ben need you, I need you. Remember what I told you? Every life is worth something, Razi, including yours. Your life is worth fighting for."

"Every life is worth something, Razi, including yours." She couldn't pull the trigger, she was trying to, but his voice was telling her that she mattered, that he wasn't going to use her, that he wouldn't walk away, that he loved her. Her finger twitched at the trigger and the safety was back on. The gun tumbled from her hand onto the bed, and she buried her head in her arms, sobbing.

"Ice!" Michael's voice was low and soothing and he picked up the gun carefully, tossing it out of her room, and sat down on the bed, pulling her into his arms. He held her as she cried, murmuring to her gently. "It's alright, Ice, you don't want to do it, you're going to be fine."

Beep.... Long silence.

Gibbs's eyes flashed open.

Beep.... Nothing

Jen turned back around, staring through the glass in shock.

Beep...beep.

"That's my girl." Whispered Gibbs, still in Hebrew. "My beautiful spy."

He gave up his seat willingly to the team of doctors and went out to stand with Jen until Sarai was pronounced stable. "What did you say?" asked Jen, stunned.

"I prayed." He admitted quietly.

"She was drugged." Announced Tony, getting off the phone. "Someone's been keeping her in a drug-induced coma while she was in the hospital. Her dose yesterday reacted badly somehow and her heart failed. I guess that writes off a burglary gone sour."

"So someone really is trying to kill her." Realized Ziva.

"And it may or may not have something to do with the fact that she's married to Gibbs." Added McGee, his expression confused/annoyed.

"But according to everyone we've talked to, everyone liked her." Said Tony, frustrated.

"Well it's personal. Jaedyn said that the woman spit on Kyra." Pointed out Ziva.

McGee nodded. "So you would think that the motive has to do with Kyra, not Gibbs."

"It does." Said Gibbs confidently as he strode into the bull-pen. "And we lied."

Tony sat across from his boss, a little nervous about the idea of interrogating the older agent, but both Gibbs and Jen had said he didn't have a choice, even though he'd also be interrogating Jen herself and Ziva. "So, would you mind telling me why you lied during a federal investigation?" he asked, straightening his file. McGee stood in the corner, watching grimly.

"I was trying to protect my wife." Replied Gibbs calmly. "When we started dating again, she asked me to help her stay retired."

"Retired from what exactly?" asked McGee, frowning.

"Mossad." Replied Ziva. "I knew her as Areille Mizrahi, she led a team of four, including me, my sister, and our friend Michael. The four of us had grown up together, at least, Areille had lived with my family for a few years when she was a girl, and she would visit sometimes."

"Did she have any enemies that you knew of?" asked Tony.

Ziva laughed. "She ran Mossad's Kidon unit for over seven years." She replied. "Of course she had enemies! More than anyone could ever count or name."

"But was there anyone in particular who might have held a grudge long enough to go looking for her five years after she went missing?" clarified McGee.

"I don't really know anything about Sarai's life before she retired." Said Gibbs. "We did a joint assignment together in Russia, she was running back-up, and I saw her on an assignment once a few years earlier, but that's it."

"You're married to her, but you don't know anything about her?" clarified Tony. "That doesn't sound like a great plan."

Gibbs shook his head. "I know about her, I just don't know about any of her assignments except the one we worked together. We never talked work, even once she'd retired."

"You've been harbouring a foreign operative for the last five years." Pointed out McGee. "That's a federal crime and you're a federal agent."

"So was she." Shrugged Jen. "Sarai was a joint asset, any assignment she took on had its orders from both Mossad and NCIS. She's an American agent just as much as she is an Israeli one."

"But doesn't her loyalty lean a little more towards Israel? After all, she's Israeli, and aside from the last five years, we have no evidence that she ever lived in the U.S." pointed out McGee.

Jen lifted her head proudly. "She lived with me. For almost seventeen years, except for the three she spent with Ziva."

"So," Tony feigned a look of stating the obvious. "You also harboured a foreign operative."

She leaned forward across the table with a clear expression. "No, Agent DiNozzo, my daughter lived with me until a couple of months before her seventeenth birthday."

Ziva stood by the door to the hospital room, watching her former mentor as she slept. The doctors would be clearing the drugs out of her system for several days, but she would wake up soon after the drugs were gone. At least she should. She'd heard two new perspectives on the young woman today, including a mother's, and she was having a little trouble reconciling all the new pieces of information. "Don't be angry with her Ziva." Said Jen quietly from behind the young woman. Ziva turned, startled, and then stepped aside to let the Director through. Jen smiled gratefully and moved to the other side of the room.

"I'm just a little confused." Sighed Ziva. "I thought I knew her, and it turns out everything was a lie. That seems to be happening to me a lot lately."

"She never lied to you if she could help it." Corrected Jen. "Or Tahlia, or Michael. She loved you three, was so proud of you. We didn't talk much, after she moved out, but when we did, it was usually about you three. She called me, after you yelled at her for not attending Tahlia's funeral, and she was so upset, she couldn't figure out how to explain it to you that she just couldn't go into the cemetery."

Ziva had the grace to look ashamed at the reminder that she'd taken out all her grief and pain on her mentor after Tahlia had died. She'd gotten better eventually, but not before she'd thoroughly abused the young woman about her apparent lack of care for her dead operative. "She looks a little like you Director." Observed Ziva thoughtfully.

Jen smiled. "More like her father. But thank you. I often wonder if I'd taken a little more time to get to know who she was rather than teaching her to be something else, would she have run away? I had no clue how to be a mother and unfortunately that affected Sarai more than it did me. All I can do is thank Ivanna for what she gave my daughter, a softer side of motherhood."

"Mamá called to say that Papí is coming." Ziva informed her, just remembering this fact.

"Yes, I heard." Nodded Jen. "You should talk to him Ziva. He's a lot like me. He does his best, his best is crap, but he does his best."

Ziva sighed, stepping into the room and leaning back in the glass with her arms crossed. "I know Director."

With everything that was happening, trying to catch a killer, look after the twins, and still have time to visit Sarai in the hospital, Gibbs wasn't sleeping much, and after two and a half weeks, it began to take its toll. Finally, he fell asleep in his chair at the hospital, his fingers still laced with hers, but when her fingers curled around his hand, he awoke with a start. She began to move, breathing in deeply and turning her head slowly. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "Jethro." She murmured, trying to sit up. She winced and sank back on the pillows. "Ouch."

He laughed quietly, reaching out to brush her hair out of her eyes carefully. "Hey Razi."

Her laugh turned into a small cough. "Do not look so worried, you cannot get rid of me that easily."

Gibbs shook his head, eyes stinging a little. "I screwed up baby." He told her apologetically. "I really screwed up. Jen, uh, she suspended me from the investigation, and she and Ziva and I have all been put through the DiNozzo ringer. And, uh, your father's coming."

"None of that is your fault." She told him softly. "You are not the one who shot me."

"Yeah, but I promised you that...."

She cut him off, pulling his mouth down to hers. "You promised that you would help me stay retired." She pointed out. "And that you would take care of me. So far you have not broken either of those promises."

"I think the first one was a little more specific than that, but I'll take it." He murmured, kissing her deeply, cupping her cheek in his hand. He pulled back and she saw that he was trying not to cry. "Welcome back baby girl."

"It really is just like you to fall for that son-of-a-bitch, Malcolm." The familiar voice held amusement and Sarai turned, her smile growing. "I heard you were dead." Lieutenant Colonel Hollis Mann stepped into the room, looking the same as she had when Sarai had known her except for some new ribbons and for being a little older. Her arms were folded over her chest and she had a small smile on her face, blue eyes filled with laughter as she looked at her old partner.

"So did I. How did you find me, Holly?"

Hollis sat down, nodding thoughtfully. "NCIS and Army CID have done same cases together recently. I was over to get a case file and I saw a familiar face on the big screen. They asked me to fill in your time in Baghdad and they told me what they knew in exchange. You look pretty damn good in your civvies, soldier."

Sarai glanced over at her husband, still smiling. "When I was sixteen, I ran away from Mamá." She explained. "I figured they would not look for me in an Army camp. Holly and I were in the same unit for almost a year."

"I wouldn't have reenlisted after that tour if it weren't for this girl." Added Hollis dryly. "She was unstoppable. Got hit by an IED once, split her all the way up the seam, and she just popped some grunt candy and sewed herself back up."

Sarai flushed and shrugged. "It was that or die, I was not ready to leave the fight."

Gibbs shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No wonder the Doc was so wound up, home repairs aren't exactly popular with doctors Raz."

"Why do you think I hate doctors so much?" she demanded. "They ask me nosy questions and they only ever give bad news, and I can repair myself better than they can."

"She's really always been like this, hasn't she?" Gibbs asked Hollis, amused.

"Since I've known her." Agreed the blonde woman. "How the hell did you get out of that house?" she asked Sarai curiously.

"My mother pulled me out." She sighed.

"Yeah, but the place exploded...."

Sarai shook her head. "No, I mean she literally pulled me out. I ducked in one side and she pulled me out the other side before I could get my feet back."

"She faked your death to get you out." Realized Hollis.

The Israeli nodded. "I am sorry Holly." She sighed.

"Seventeen, girl." Retorted Hollis. "I just figured your luck ran out."

"That happens a lot." Said Gibbs. "But I think someone up there's looking out for you, because somehow, you're still here."

"I have a better puzzle for you than how I live through things I shouldn't. Why the hell have all my old friends become cops?" she demanded, frustrated.

"Because you were a cop too, honey." laughed Gibbs, amused by her frustration. "A different kind of cop, maybe, but a cop nonetheless."

She sighed. "It certainly makes it difficult to stay retired when everyone you know is still working."

"You could come back." Pointed out Gibbs.

"I will shoot you." She threatened, glaring at him. "Do not even think it."

Hollis stifled a laugh as Gibbs tried to clarify. "NCIS, Raz, you could be an agent. Face it, you're bored outta your mind as a civilian. It's different than the flip side of the coin, I promise. I've seen both sides."

"I'm sure CID would take you too if you wanted." Pointed out Hollis. "I'll put in a word for you if you like."

Sarai looked surprised by the two offers. "They do not want an ex-spook getting involved with their cases." She said assuredly. "But especially not me. Besides, I have two small children, I cannot afford to be shot at every day anymore."

"You're getting shot at now." Pointed out Hollis.

"But it was just a burglar." Protested Sarai. "A fluke."

Hollis glanced over at Gibbs grimly. "You want to tell her?"

Sarai looked from one to the other of them. "I was supposed to be shot." She realized quietly. "Someone found me."

"Yeah." Sighed Gibbs. "It's looking that way. But it could still be one of my cases, or maybe...."

"Bullshit." She interrupted. "It has nothing to do with your work, because I have no connection with your work. It has to be me and we all know it. So I am back whether I like it or not. I have to go back or you will never find out who is trying to kill me."

"Just think about it Raz." Requested Gibbs. "I'd be a lot happier if I knew you were spending your time with other agents and that your reactions were still good."

"Oh, she'll go back, Gibbs." Observed Hollis, reading her friend's face. "Once she gets read into the case, she'll want to shoot the bitch herself, she can't do that if she's a civilian. You got a rush from it, didn't you? Holding that gun again. It all came back to you when you started clearing the rooms." The glow in Sarai's eyes proved that the blonde was right but the younger woman just smiled. "You used to laugh, remember? Every time those bullets missed us, every time a bomb went off and all we got was a headache, we would laugh. We wonder what the hell was wrong with our minds every time we try to walk away, but the second you go back, you remember. We're not made to stand at the front of a classroom and teach, soldier."

Sarai pushed herself up, ignoring the pain in her abdomen. "You have no idea what you would be letting back into the field by giving me a badge Holly." She warned.

"But I do." Replied Jen. "And it would be just about the only smart decision I ever made with you. No one's going to force you to do anything, but I think it would be wise for you to do what Ziva did. Being an NCIS agent is very different from being an NCIS spy, Sarai, you might enjoy it."

The Israeli glanced around at all the faces, each one sure that this was a good idea and she gave up. "Oh, for God's sake." She sighed. "Fine, just get me out of this damn hospital, and give me my gun back, I get nervous without it."

She stood in the firing range that afternoon, trying to relearn the tricks of a Sig Saur, and learning the particular quirks of her individual weapon. McGee watched from nearby, having recognized the young woman as he was passing through, as Sarai put out round after perfect round. She flipped the switch, bringing the target sheet forward. "Is there something I can do for you Timothy?" she asked without even turning around.

"Are you supposed to be here?" asked McGee curiously. "I mean, I know you can be on the base, but are you supposed to be on the range?"

"I have very overprotective family." She replied dryly, opening the door to her stall and stepping out. "Jethro wants to make sure all of my reflexes are up to par. I do not suppose you fight, do you Timothy?"

"I was on the wrestling team in high school." Replied McGee, a confused frown on his face.

Sarai shook her head. "That is not fighting." She said decidedly. "Oh well. Can you tell me where to find my husband?"

"Abby's lab." Replied McGee. "Do you want...."

"I know where it is." She waved off his offer with a grateful smile. "Thank you though." She strode down to the lab, walking through the glass doors. "I hear that I have you to thank for my marriage, Ms. Sciuto." She said to the Goth's back.

Abby whirled around, hands out. "The mysterious runaway date." She guessed, glancing Sarai over appraisingly. "You have really cute kids and I'm in really big trouble."

"They are with Ziva, Abby." Laughed Sarai. "I did not want them to know I was here until after I have done a few things. Thank you for looking after them, though."

Abby breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good." She declared, staring at the floor. "I don't speak Hebrew, and Jaedyn hasn't been able to speak English since she arrived, and they are both really fast. I looked away for, like, thirty seconds."

"I am sorry they worried you." Sarai smiled, amused. "They are a little too much like their father sometimes. Speaking of which, I was looking for him. Timothy said that he might be here, but obviously that is not the case."

"Oh, he was here." Abby looked up, pigtails bouncing. "But he left. He might be in Autopsy, want me to check?"

"That would be lovely." Agreed Sarai.

Abby turned on her tiny communication monitor and Ducky's face appeared. "Hey Duck-man!" Called Abby brightly. "Is Gibbs there?"

"As a matter of fact he is, would you like to speak with him?" asked Ducky.

"No, but the wife would."

Ducky smiled as Sarai appeared on the screen. "Ah! Hello my dear, I had heard you were awake, I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to come see you."

"It is alright, Ducky, I'd rather be awake when you visit anyway. Can you put Jethro on?"

"I'm here Raz." Said Gibbs, coming on line. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I was going to stop by the college for a while. I need to speak with the administration, work a few things out, make sure people don't think I died."

"Is anyone going with you?" asked Gibbs sharply.

She rolled her eyes. "I did not intend to bring anyone, no. I can take care of myself Jethro, it makes a huge difference to be expecting trouble."

"I'm not taking that chance. " He replied grimly. "Whatever Lieutenant Colonel Mann said about all your training coming back, it didn't help you much the last time. Get DiNozzo or McGee to go with you. And yes, I will check."

"Fine." She sighed. "I will ask Anthony, but I wish you would stop worrying."

"Well I won't, not until we catch this bitch." He replied, not sounding at all repentant. "Eli's going to be here in another couple of hours, just so you know."

"I will be back in time." She promised. "Bye."

He nodded and Abby turned off the monitor. "Don't you hate it when guys try to protect you?" sighed Abby.

"I cannot blame him Abby." Murmured Sarai. "I have been the protector before."

Tony and Sarai got out of her silver Acura at the college and he followed her through the halls, looking around curiously. He noticed that, while she didn't look like she was paying any special attention, her eyes were darting around and taking everything in at once. When they reached her room, a class was just ending, and Tony stood by the door while Sarai went up to Lisa. "Kyra!" exclaimed the brunette, concerned and delighted at once. Then she noticed the gun holstered at her friend's hip and Tony guarding the door. "What's with the guns?" she asked, a little nervous.

"Better safe than sorry." Replied Sarai quietly.

"Someone really did try to kill you?" gasped Lisa, eyes wide. "It wasn't just a burglar or something?"

Sarai nodded grimly. "I am not coming back Lis. I handed in my resignation a little while ago. I also turned in my recommendation that you be chosen to take my place. I do not know if they will listen to me or not, but I think you would do an excellent job." She hugged her friend briefly. "Good luck." She murmured.

"You too, Kyra." Replied Lisa sadly. "I'm really glad to have gotten the chance to work with you."

"Ask your question, Agent DiNozzo." Said Sarai quietly, turning off the elevator and turning to him. "I know it is killing you."

Tony struggled to phrase his question carefully, not wanting to offend his boss's wife. "How in the hell did Gibbs get someone like you ?" he blurted, completely failing in his purpose.

Sarai smiled gently, and he thought it made her look like a mother, or what he thought a mother should look like. "He knows me, the real me, and he loves me anyway." She replied, a little far away. "It may sound very cliché, but he changed the way I looked at the world, made me see that it was not all about following orders and putting the job first. Ever since we have known each other, Jethro has given me what no one else ever did, my own choices." She swallowed, flushing a little and looking away from the young agent. "The truth is probably just that we spent so many years trying to find a weakness to exploit in the other one, that we fell in love with the people we were discovering. Jethro is a bastard, I will never deny that, but he is a good man, and…and I never had that."

He glanced at the dark beauty, impressed by her candid admissions to a complete stranger. "That is what women want, isn't it?" he asked thoughtfully. "A good guy who'll look out for them no matter what."

"If you are asking me for advice in how to hold onto your girlfriend, Anthony," she said, amused. "All I can say, is that the most important thing you can do for her is be yourself. When men try to be what they think we want them to be, they usually defeat their own purposes. If she loves you and you are comfortable being you along with all your flaws with her, than there is no reason for you to doubt yourself."

"What if I'm being myself and not myself at the same time?" he asked carefully. "Hypothetically of course."

She recognized the description of an undercover operation and her eyes were sympathetic. "Do you love her?" she asked gently. He nodded, forgetting that his proposition had been hypothetical. "Then make sure you tell her the truth someday, when she is confident that you love her, and you just might be able to work it out." She reached for the 'power' button, casting him a questioning glance and he nodded again, so she flicked the switch back on, adding, "And be damn sure you are not in love with your partner before you tell her the whole story, because the second she knows there is another woman in your life, even Ziva, she will need to learn how to trust you with that." The doors slid open with a ding and she stepped out, leaving him speechless in the metal box.

"Mamá!" The second she moved into view of the bull-pen, two little bodies shot toward her and she dropped to her knees, pulling the twins into her arms and burying her face in her daughter's hair.

"My babies." She breathed, inhaling the sweet child-scent and filling her head with it. "Mm, I missed you." She hadn't even noticed the two Israeli men standing a short distance away. She sat back against the partitioning wall, dragging Jaedyn and Benjamin into her lap and brushing her fingers through Jaedyn's hair gently. The little girl closed her eyes and nestled into her mother contentedly. Sarai pressed her lips to Ben's head, and it was only then that she looked up and saw her father and Michael. Her face fell, and she bit her lip nervously. "Shalom Eli." She greeted her father quietly. "Michael. I thought I had a little more time somehow."

Tony had crept into the bull-pen and was now sitting at his desk with his head hidden behind his computer, and Michael cast an interested glance at the young agent. "You must be Agent DiNozzo." He observed. "Thank you for getting her back safely."

"Just doing my job." Replied Tony, clearly a little nervous.

Michael turned back to his old friend and sat down cross-legged on the floor as well, leaning back on Ziva's desk. Sarai noticed that her sister was nowhere to be found, and McGee and Gibbs also seemed to be mysteriously missing. "I never expected a child of yours to be so shy, Ice." He said thoughtfully, tugging fondly on a lock Jaedyn's hair.

The little girl peeked up at him curiously and Sarai tightened her arms around her children protectively. "She is cautious, that is all." She murmured, a little defensive. "Not such a bad thing."

"We just came to visit, Sarai." Said her father, sitting on the edge of McGee's desk. "No need to be so worried."

She glanced up at him and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. "My reflexes are slow." She sighed. "I managed to miss that someone was a few feet away and got myself shot. I am not worried, I have a bruised ego."

Michael chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. "Same old Ice." He laughed. "How've you been doing?"

"Civilian life is more fun than you would think." She replied, cracking a smile. "And these two are always busy." Her eyes softened as she looked down at the twins, both of whom were burrowed into her like they were afraid she'd disappear if they let go. "I have enjoyed it very much."

"How's married life?" asked Michael, solicitously.

She recognized his protective side coming out and smiled. "Wonderful. You should try it." She teased. "Have you gone to see Ziva yet?"

He shook his head, thoughtfully. "I wanted to come see how you were doing first." He glanced up at his boss surreptitiously. "I probably should go see her though, the girl will kill me if I don't."

Tony jumped at the opportunity to get out of the room. "I'll show you down to the lab, she's probably there."

Michael touched his friend's knee gently and pushed himself to his feet. "See you later Ice." He murmured, following Tony to the elevator.

Sarai let her head fall back against the walls, gazing up at her father quietly, and he looked back. It was a silent conversation, the most intimate kind the two of them had really ever had. Finally, Eli sighed and uncrossed his arms. "How are you, my dear?"

"Still sore." She replied. "Whatever that woman did to me, it hurt like hell. I am glad you could come, Papí."

"I've really messed up with you two, haven't I?" he asked, doubt in his eyes. "I wish I could go back and do it over, but somehow I think I'd still screw up."

Her expression warmed a little. "Your heart has always been in the right place, Papí and eventually that will be enough." She touched her daughter's head gently. "Jaedyn? You want to say hello to Grandperé?"

The little girl peeked up at Eli, shyly, still curled closely into her mother. "Hello." She murmured and then ducked back into Sarai's hair.

Eli smiled at the heavy accent, reaching out to pet Jaedyn's head gently. "Hello to you too, little one." He laughed quietly. "And what about this young man?" he asked as Ben began to squirm restlessly. He'd been still for almost five minutes and was reaching his limits. "What's your name?"

"Benjamin." Declared the boy proudly. His body language showed that he was torn between staying as close to his mother as possible and jumping up to play, and his voice was clear, without a hint of his sister's and mother's dusky accent. "Mamá said you live far away, and that's why we don't see you."

"That's true." Agreed Eli, easily masking his sadness at the lie. "I haven't seen your mother or her sister in a very long time."

"But perhaps he will be able to visit every now and again, yes?" Sarai pressed her lips to Ben's head and, recognizing his need for movement, shifted him the slightest bit away from her body. "What have you been doing all day, Ben? Did you make any pictures?" He nodded vigorously. "Well, go get them so you can show your grandfather, okay?" Ben jumped up and raced over to Gibbs's desk, pulling a paper off the clear surface, and bounced excitedly over to Eli. The little boy held up his picture proudly, and Sarai watched, realizing that her father was perfectly good with small children and boys. It was when his daughters had begun to enter an adult world filled with love, trust, and betrayal that he had lost his way. She smiled at him, and his eyes sparkled back, grateful for her silent forgiveness. They may not have said much over the next little while, but they understood the message loud and clear.

He'd tried to get her to spend the night back at the hospital, just for safety's sake, but the look she'd given him had been enough to make even Gibbs fold. The twins had been fully convinced that they would never fall asleep, not with their mother home for the first time in almost a month, but halfway home, they'd both turned out like lights. After making sure Jae and Ben stayed asleep once in their rooms, Gibbs joined her back in the bedroom, standing in the doorway as he watched her move carefully around the room. She trailed her fingers over the surface of the dresser, biting her lip thoughtfully. "It feels different." Sighed Sarai as she sat down on the blankets.

"I put locks on the doors." He told her, wiggling the door handle.

She smiled weakly. "I am not worried about that. They will not try something so blunt again, at least I would not. I have been trying to think of who might have looked for so long, but I cannot come up with anything." She looked up at him and he saw the desperation in her eyes.

He sat down next to her, curling his arm around her waist, and she lay her head on his shoulder. "We're going to figure this out, Raz." He promised soothingly. "Don't worry."

"I just seem to attract trouble." There was a bitter tang to her laugh, but he just rubbed her arm gently and she sighed, suddenly very tired. "You know, I am afraid to go to sleep, like I might not wake up, but I think it might be worse to be awake. At least you get some escape when you are asleep."

He kissed the top of her head softly, resting his cheek on her dark hair. "I know something else that might help." He offered. Her breath hitched and he frowned, realizing she'd taken it a different way than he'd meant. "I was talking about the boat. It helps me to work on it sometimes, maybe it'll help you."

"That is your space." She replied hesitantly, biting her lip. "I would not want to intrude."

She hadn't been down into the basement in all the time they'd been together. She would tell him it was because he needed one place that was his, but the truth was that she had always been afraid that she would see her brother grinning at her, a bullet in his forehead. But today she wasn't so sure. The idea was tempting, and she could sense that he was starting to get frustrated with her about her refusal to let anyone help her, among other things. "It's yours as well if you want it." He pointed out, deciding not to provoke an argument just now. "But for now, I promise that you'll wake up, okay?" She glanced up at him, regretting her denial, and nodded silently. She got up and pulled a pair of pajamas out of the dresser, heading into the bathroom. He changed as well and moved under the covers. When she came back out, she curled up in bed, slipping her arm under the pillow with her back to him. He drew her closer, draping his arm over her slender waist. He found it interesting that she'd become incredibly soft after the twins were born, but that only some of that softness had stayed through to now. He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly, noticing the little smile that crept onto her face even though her eyes were closed. "I love you baby." He murmured contentedly, settling in behind her.

Sarai curled her fingers with his where his hand dangled over her stomach, feeling a little better. "I love you too Jethro." She murmured back. She really was tired, which didn't make much sense, and soon, her breathing had evened out and her body had relaxed its usual waking tension.

Gibbs wasn't nearly as lucky, though, and his thoughts chased each other in circles around his brain. Who was trying to kill the beautiful ex-spy? Why? And how in the hell were they supposed to figure it out? He was still lost in thought when she jerked awake with a soft scream. Immediately, he held her tightly, petting her hair and murmuring sweet nothings to her as he recognized her usual response to nightmares. This one seemed to be so much worse than the others though, because she was trembling in his arms, shrinking away from him with stifled sobs, and then she pushed away from him and stumbled into the bathroom. He heard her throwing up and decided to wait it out, knowing that she wouldn't take well to him witnessing that. As soon as he was sure it was just shaky breaths and sobs coming from the other room, he hurried in, wrapping his arms around her as she shook. "It's okay, baby." He whispered softly, folding her into his chest. "I've got you, you're alright. Shh, shh."

She buried her face in his night-shirt, taking deep, careful breaths to calm herself. "I am sorry." She whispered finally. "I did not mean...."

"Stop doing that." he was surprised to hear his own voice, especially so filled with irritation. In the five years they'd been together, he'd never once raised his voice at her, even if they had argued a couple of times. But now he was too frustrated by her refusal to let anyone help her to control it. "I'm sick of watching you hurt yourself with these...these memories or whatever they are, and I'm sick of knowing that you're never going to tell me what's hurting you, and I'm sick of you burying everything so deep that it makes you sick. Maybe whoever it is that's trying to kill you should save themselves a few bullets and just wait for you to do it yourself!" she stared at him, stunned, and he could see her mouth moving, trying to speak, but no words were coming out. He kissed her hard, and she could taste the frustration on his tongue. When he pulled back he put a hand under her chin so that she had to look at him. "I need you to talk to me!" he begged, pale blue eyes locked on emerald green. "I need you to just tell me what's doing this to you. How in the hell am I supposed to protect you if I have no idea what in your life you might need protection from?"

"It....I...." she was struggling with her words, her confusion at his behaviour and the remnants of her nightmare tying her tongue. He looked away for a second, pursing his lips and trying to control his annoyance. "I am...I am trying." She pleaded quickly. She couldn't stand to feel like he couldn't look at her. "I am, Jethro." She took a deep breath and began talking, each word more difficult than the last. It was harder to tell Gibbs than it had been to tell Ducky. "It....When Jasper was...was murdered...I got...lost. I saw him standing over my grandperé, and I...I did not mean to, but I...I called out to him. And he turned around, and...and it was Jacob. Jen was getting too close, so they sent him to kill Jasper."

She was shaking her head, her face tight, like it hurt to say this out loud, so he sat down cross-legged on the bath-mat and pulled her closer. "It's not going to hurt you, Razi." He murmured soothingly. "Just go ahead and say it, you'll feel better."

"He could've just killed me." She whispered, pain in her voice, and let her eyes fall closed. "But he did not, he...." Her voice caught and she touched her stomach, tentatively. "I wanted to be dead, I wished, more than anything, that I could have died that night with Jasper. I wished every day for years. And all the while, I was letting men touch me, trying to feel anything else, anything." Her voice broke and she was crying too hard to keep speaking.

Gibbs cupped her cheek, lifting her lips up to him gently. He was too stunned to say anything, so he just brushed his lips across her mouth briefly, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. "I am so sorry, baby girl." He said softly. "My beautiful spy. You're safe now, though, okay?"

"I made myself so sick that I lost my baby." She whispered. He'd been right, now that it was finally out, that she'd sort of said it, she didn't want to stop. "Eli and Jen found out."

"That time you called looking for her in Paris." Remembered Gibbs.

"Yes." She agreed miserably. "I do not know how they did it, and I do not want to, but he is dead now. That is when I shipped out to Baghdad. I could not stand having Jen look at me anymore, the pity, the guilt. I just needed to get away for a while." She played absently with his hand where it sat on her hip. "I tried to kill myself when I found out that I could not have children because of him." She said flatly. "That even five years later, he was still ruining my life."

"But you did have the twins, baby." He reminded her gently, trying to bring her back and it worked.

She smiled quietly. "That is true." She agreed, warmth spreading back through her. "And I never dreamt about it while I was with you in Russia, only rarely here."

He loosened his hold on her, allowing the moment to pass completely and she relaxed again. "Do you think it might have something to do with your getting shot?" he asked carefully.

She tipped her head, as if considering this for the first time, and, with the pain it caused her to dwell on it, it probably was. "The cell went underground after Jacob died. I suppose it is possible, but why wait seventeen years?"

Gibbs frowned, conceding. "True. Maybe…." He froze. "Because Jen's going after them again." He realized. "La Grenouille. She's been sending Tony undercover after him, was he involved?"

Sarai shook her head. "I do not know. I did not do anything other than assassinations until I was eighteen. It is possible."

"Okay." He sighed, reaching out to tuck a lock of black hair back into place. "Think you can go back to sleep?" he asked. She nodded and he helped her up, guiding her back to bed with one hand in the small of her back. He kept himself awake for a while, just to make sure she didn't have another nightmare, but it wasn't long before both of them were fast asleep, exhausted by the stress and worry.

One week later.

It was Michael and Eli's last day in DC, and Michael was standing with Sarai while Eli spoke in a whispered conversation with his younger daughter. Michael handed Sarai a package, tugging on a lock of black hair affectionately. Neither of them noticed Gibbs watching, trying to suppress the ideas that were coming to mind as he envied his wife's connection to the young Israeli. "I kept these for you." Said Michael quietly. "I'd always hoped you'd come back, so I made sure to keep them from being sold or thrown away."

Sarai stared at the package for a moment before setting down on her desk. "It is another life Michael." She murmured, a glint of fear in her eyes along with something else. "I will never need these again."

Michael smiled ruefully. "You were never more amazing than when you were on assignment." He recalled gently. "But you were never more vulnerable than right after. Take care of yourself, Ice, no matter what this turns out to be." She could hear the warning in his voice and tore her eyes from his, ashamed. But he wouldn't stand for that and tipped her chin up to look at him. "Promise me."

Her eyes softened and she nodded. "Okay." She agreed.

"Good." He replied firmly. He leaned in and kissed her cheek before heading over to Eli and Ziva. Sarai's eyes followed him, still not seeing her husband's expression, and then moved to Ziva. The young woman was glancing back and forth between Sarai and Eli, betrayal clear in her eyes. Suddenly she pushed away from her father and strode away, barely tossing a goodbye to Michael as she left. Sarai's heart sank, but she didn't go after her sister, knowing the girl needed time. Eli and Michael stepped into the elevator and were gone.

Another week.

Sarai sat down at Ziva's desk, slowly unwrapping the package. With a sigh, she lifted one of the knives out, turning it through her fingers absently. It was small, the handle was carefully engraved and the blade was slender and sharp. It had been a gift from an Israeli diplomat when he still thought he had a chance with the beautiful operative who had been assigned to protect him at a conference. She bit her lip softly as her fingers shifted ever so slightly and the blade shot into the flimsy partitioning wall beside her, embedding itself almost up to the hilt. Her eyes didn't betray the horror she felt at how easy it was to perform the tricks she'd sworn to never use again as she tugged the knife out of the wall and rewrapped the package, slipping it into her bag. She leaned back in the computer chair, turning in slow half-circles and staring off into space. Suddenly, she slammed her fist onto the desk, startling everyone in the bull-pen as she jumped to her feet and strode over to Gibbs's desk. She leaned forward with her palms pressed flat to the desk's surface, her hair swinging forward over her shoulder and her eyes flashing. "I am going crazy Jethro." She hissed, frustration sparkling in her voice. "I feel like there is a target on my back, and all I can do is wait for someone to aim at it. It has been two weeks, and there are no leads, I am not allowed to do anything but deskwork, and I have agents on my tail everywhere I go. I do not know how any of you talked me into this in the first place, and I am tired of sitting back and waiting for some invisible enemy to try to kill me again. I need to do something!"

"Take a breath." Ordered Gibbs calmly, setting down his pen and turning his attention away from the report he'd started on. "There's nothing you can do for now."

"I am going crazy, penned up like this." She warned again. "We know what they want, so my hiding behind the protection of the Navy Yard is just going to make them sit back and wait. If you let me back out there, I can…."

"No way in hell." Gibbs cut her off angrily. "We're not using you as bait."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know as well as I do that there is no other option." She retorted. "The only way to catch them is to give them a chance to slip up. Either we choose the circumstances of that chance, or they will."

Gibbs shook his head firmly. "It's not happening Raz, just let us do our job."

"I could do it better." She growled, pushing herself off his desk and striding away.

"Where are you going?" he called after her, knowing she might try to sneak off on her own.

"The exercise room." She called back. "I will not leave base."

She'd thoroughly exhausted herself in the gm that afternoon, her expression a clear warning to all the other agents to stay back, as well as the ease with which she had pummeled the punching bags. That night, she tumbled into bed, much calmer, and Gibbs moved on top of her, tracing the scars on her torso carefully. She shivered, letting out a soft moan at his much-wanted touch. "You're not very good at poker, are you baby?" he asked, amused.

A low laugh bubbled in her throat and she pushed at his chest playfully. "Bastard." She retorted, not a very good comeback, but still true. She pushed him away, leaving a confused expression on his face as she sauntered over to the door. "I have to check on Jaedyn and Ben." She pointed out, smugly, and he groaned. She smirked as she left the room, a much better comeback than the first, she thought to herself. She opened their son's door silently, peeking in, and her expression softened, as she watched him sleep with Danny the Dog held tightly in his arms. She closed the door again and moved to Jaedyn's room. No sooner had she pushed the door open then she felt her knees weaken desperately. The covers were thrown back and he bed was empty except for a prepaid burn phone on the pillow. She picked it up, fingers shaking, and read the screen. 1 Missed Call, it said, View Now or Later? Her breathing turned ragged, and she turned on her heel, and made her way blindly back to the bedroom.

"What's up, Raz?" asked Gibbs sharply, noticing the frozen panic on her expression.

"Jaedyn." She whispered, staring at him in shock.

He was up and by her side in a second, and he lifted the phone out of her hand, glancing at it. "Alright, I'm going to call McGee, and get him to track the call, just hold on a minute, okay?" He dialed from his own cell phone quickly. "McGee? I need you to trace a phone call, see if you can just find out where the signal's coming from, okay?"

"You got it Boss, I need at least one of the numbers, though."

"My house line." Gibbs rattled off his home phone number and handed Sarai the house phone to use. "Alright, Raz, go ahead."

She dialed the number from the burn phone and set the phone to her ear. "I thought this might get your attention." Came an icy voice.

"I want to speak to my daughter." Said Sarai quietly.

"Mamá?" Jaedyn's voice was small and frightened and Sarai's heart broke to hear it. "What's happening Mamá?"

"It is alright Jaedyn, I promise. Can you see anything, sweetheart?" asked Sarai anxiously.

"No," whimpered the girl. "There's something over my eyes."

Sarai closed her eyes, gratefully. If they had covered her eyes, then they intended to let her go. "All right, Jaedyn, just be good until I get there, okay? I will be there as soon as I can to get you."

"Satisfied?" Gibbs held his wife close, rubbing her arms soothingly.

"What do you want?" asked Sarai desperately. "Whatever it is...."

"We don't care about money, or even your daughter for that matter." The voice cut her off. "Be at the main entrance to Coleman park by 0500 tomorrow morning or she dies. If anyone is with you, she'll die, if anyone follows you, she'll die, is that clear?"

"Crystal." She whispered, tears stinging behind her eyes. "And if I do that, you will send her home? Safely?"

"She'll be home before lunch." Agreed the voice. The click on the other end of the line sounded like a gunshot in her ear, and she closed her eyes against the salty pearls that were already spilling over.

Gibbs raised his cell to his ear, slowly. "McGee?"

"Five square mile radius, Boss." Replied the young agent apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's okay Tim." Said Gibbs quietly. "Get Tony and Ziva on this, see what you can do." He pocketed his phone, turning Sarai around to face him. "No one is going to get hurt, baby." He promised. "Except the bastards who did this."

"I told you something like this would happen." She whispered, and he folded her up in his arms.

"I know baby." He sighed, and she hit his chest softly, helplessly.

"I told you!" She cried again. She hit him harder, but he just held her tighter, feeling a little sense of déjà vú from when Kate had tried to hurt him for being the one to tell her that her boyfriend was dead. Now, Sarai needed to let out her pain, and he was perfectly fine with acting as a punching bag for a while. "You should have listened." She whispered, finally having exhausted herself.

"I know I should have." He soothed, kissing the top of her head. "But I need you to be calm for a while, okay? I'm going to need you to do something for me, and you need to be calm and trust me."

She put as much of her concentration as she could into driving so that she wouldn't have to think about the fact that her daughter had been kidnapped, that everything she'd struggled to protect form her past was in danger anyway. When she reached the park, she leaned her head down on the steering wheel for a moment, glancing at the clock on the dash. 4:47. Thirteen minutes early. She stepped out into the rain, ducking under a tree to keep dry, not that it would matter for much longer. Soon, she spotted headlights in the distance, and a limo pulled up in front of her. The door was pushed open and Sarai stepped in, offering a silent prayer to the God that she had put so much faith into throughout her life and saying her last goodbye to her husband and children, just in case. The young woman in the car smiled at her and held up a thick blindfold. "May I?" she asked, politely, her voice heavy with her Russian accent. Sarai took the blindfold from the blonde silently and tied it over her own eyes. She felt the needle in arm and then it was all blackness.

When she woke, Sarai found her hands tied behind her back, and she was sitting with her back against a wall. The blindfold was gone, and she blinked a little, trying to bring the world back into focus. When she finally glanced up, she saw an older man watching her from where he sat in a heavily-cushioned armchair. "Ah, you are finally awake!" he observed amicably and her drug-fogged brain registered the French lilt in his words. "You know, I have been wanting to meet you for quite a while, it really is a pleasure, my dear. I wonder, do you prefer Sheppard or Gibbs?"

"Gibbs." She replied after swiping her tongue around the inside of her mouth to clear the syrup-sweet taste.

The Frenchman cast her a curious glance. "You disown your mother?" he asked, surprised.

Sarai shook her head carefully and was grateful that the movement didn't cause any vertigo. "I honour my husband." She corrected. "I wish we did not have to meet this way Monsieur Rene."

Rene Benoit smiled, seemingly pleased that she knew who he was. "Your reputation is not an exaggeration I see. Well, I do agree, as a great lover of all types of art, I would rather have had the pleasure of observing yours than the sad duty of destroying it. But, regrettably, your mother has been interfering again and I was forced to bring you out of retirement."

"Where is my daughter, Rene?" asked Sarai quietly, bringing them out of pleasantries and back to business. He tipped his head slightly and she followed the movement, catching sight of Jaedyn curled up asleep on a nearby couch. A blindfold was still wrapped around her eyes and a small quilt was drawn up over her shoulders, her auburn head laying on the seat cushions. "Is she...?"

"Just asleep." Assured Rene. "And as you have been more than cooperative, I don't see why she can't wake up in her own bed to think that this was all a bad dream."

Hope flashed in Sarai's eyes and she swallowed fearfully. "Please take her back before you kill me, I do not want her to be here for that. You are a father, Monsieur, you must understand." She pleaded with him, praying that he was truly a father in his actions as well as in his words.

"Well, I do have a lunch reservation in an hour." Said Rene thoughtfully. "I should leave soon to be able to keep it. I will tell you what, as a professional courtesy, I will take her with me when I leave and drop her off on the way."

"Thank you." She whispered. "Thank you."

He rose, gesturing to someone Sarai couldn't see. "It has been a pleasure, mademoiselle." He said smoothly. "I'm terribly sorry for this, but I'm afraid I have no choice. Call me when she's dead." This last was to the man and woman from the car ride over who had appeared in the doorway. He swept Jaedyn up carefully, holding her like a father would, and left.

The man tossed a gun to the blonde, more a girl than a woman really. "Kill her." He ordered dismissively.

"It's done." Rene smiled grimly when he heard the young woman's voice over the phone. "She's dead."

"A pity. The money has already been wired to your account Ms. Petrov, thank you for your assistance." He hung up and glanced at the little girl asleep on the seat across from him in the limo. "Your mother truly loved you little one, and for that you are lucky."

Jeanne Benoit swung her purse over her shoulder, about to head out to join her father for lunch, but a little girl wandered up to her, looking very confused and scared. "Hey sweetheart." Said Jeanne, kneeling down beside the girl. "Are you lost?" The little girl nodded, her silver-flecked blue eyes filled with fear. "Can you tell me your name, honey? We can radio your mommy and daddy."

"Jaedyn." Replied the girl quietly, her voice thick with some accent that Jeanne couldn't quite place. She said something else as well, but it was in another language.

"Do you speak English, Jaedyn?" asked Jeanne. Jaedyn shook her head, tears starting to spill down her cheeks. "Oh, don't cry, sweetheart." Murmured Jeanne, wiping the girl's cheek gently. "We're going to find your mom and dad. Are you here with them?" Jaedyn shook her head again, her dark auburn hair swinging into her eyes. Jeanne frowned. If the girl wasn't here with her parents, then why was she in a hospital? "Are you here with anyone?" she asked, incredulously. Another head shake. "Why don't you come with me Jaedyn, we'll work this out." She led Jaedyn over to the head nurses desk. "Grace, we've got a problem. This little girl is lost, but she says she's not with anyone. I have to go, but can you hold onto her and see if you can find her parents?"

"Of course." Agreed Grace brightly. "We'll get this straightened out in no time."

"Thanks. Her name's Jaedyn, and she understands English, but she doesn't speak it." Jeanne encouraged Jaedyn to go over to the nurses, promising, "Grace will get you home, Jaedyn, don't worry." Then she headed out to meet her father.

Sarai knelt beside the young woman, who looked very afraid, and bound the Russian hand and foot. "You look just like your sister, child." She informed the girl quietly, touching her cheek.

The girl flinched and gazed up at Sarai mournfully. "He said you killed her. Natasha."

Sadness crossed the Israeli's expression and she smoothed the girl's hair, unable to resist the maternal instinct now that it had been unleashed. "It is a dangerous game that your sister played." She said finally. "That I play. You are too young to be a part of it."

"I am older than Natasha was." Protested the woman miserably.

"Too young." Repeated Sarai sadly. "Someone will be here very soon to get you." Terror filled the woman's eyes, and Sarai tipped her chin up. "They will not hurt you, I promise. But you must tell me something first."

"He had a lunch reservation with his daughter at the Garden." Replied the girl promptly.

"Thank you." Sarai smiled and got up, walking over to the dead man in the room. She pulled the cell phone out of his belt and dialed. "Anthony, do you have Jaedyn?"

"Not yet, but there's still...."

"There is a girl here, Natasha Petrov's little sister. Do what you can for her, please?"

"Sure, but where are you going?"

"To find my daughter." Replied Sarai grimly. She dropped the phone, not bothering to hang up. She touched the woman's shoulder as she left.

"Rene!" The Frenchman turned at the angry voice, not even ruffled, and Sarai's eyes blazed as she strode over to him, seven shot in hand. As soon as she reached him, she aimed it at his head. "Where is she?" she asked coldly, not caring that the people in the restaurant's quad had gone into a panic. A few screams, and lots of running, but she didn't look away from her kidnapper.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about child." Said Rene calmly.

Sarai clicked the safety off on her weapon, and took a step closer, her free hand by her side and the muzzle of her gun almost touching his forehead. "Are you sure about that, Monsieur?" she asked quietly. He said nothing and her temper flared. "Where is my daughter?" she demanded.

"That seems like a matter for the police, perhaps if you put the weapon away, we can get you some help." Offered Rene soothingly, but Sarai had already sensed the presence that was keeping him from taunting her.

Her arm shot out and she yanked Jeanne forward, pushing the young doctor to her knees and setting the pistol's muzzle against her temple, perfectly calm. "You said you would bring her home." She accused, quietly. "But she is not there, nor is she with you. Where the hell did you take my daughter Rene?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Insisted Rene, eyes darting between his daughter and the other woman. "Please, don't do this."

"You started this, Rene, you should have been prepared to end it. I was fifteen!." Laughed Sarai bitterly. "You made me! For a father, you seem to have no idea what it does to a parent to see their child in danger."

"I'm seeing it right now." Corrected Rene carefully.

Sarai nodded, an amused smile fluttering across her lips. "And yet you insist on lying. Perhaps I have not made myself clear, Monsieur. Where is my daughter, Rene? And think carefully and quickly, or I will show Jeanne what I woke up to eighteen years ago."

"I don't know where the child is!" Exclaimed Rene, starting to look a little scared.

Sarai watched him for a moment, analyzing. "I believe you." She said softly.

"Then you will put that gun away and discuss things rationally?"

"No." Her expression hardened. "I believe you left her somewhere alone so that you could honestly say that, and I want to know where that is. Jaedyn did not have any more to do with this than I did, and you had no right to bring her into this!"

"I don't...."

"One."

"Please! I swear I don't...."

"Two."

"Wait!" Jeanne's panicked voice broke the silence and Sarai glanced down at the other woman. "A little girl, maybe three or four years old? Blue eyes, auburn hair, doesn't speak English?" she asked quickly.

Sarai couldn't stop the hope that spread through her body, showing clearly in her eyes. "You have seen her?" she asked, desperately.

"She's at the hospital, she's fine, just a little scared." Promised Jeanne. "Let me up, and I'll bring you."

The Israeli nodded, turning her gun away from Jeanne and pulling out her recently-issued handcuffs. "Put these on your father." She instructed quietly. "You are lucky your daughter is wiser than you, Rene." She informed him as Jeanne snapped the metal bracelets onto her father's wrists, still terrified. "Let's go."

Grace had been trying for over an hour to interest Jaedyn in something, but the little girl just sat on the floor, staring at her feet in silence. The nurse sighed and went back to her forms, watching the girl from the corner of her eye. A sudden voice made her look up, and she was shocked to see Jeanne, an older man, and a dark beauty in the hall. The dark woman flew towards the nurses' station, panic in her eyes. "Jaedyn!" she called.

The little girl's head jerked up, and she jumped to her feet, throwing herself at the woman. "Mamá!" she sobbed, coiling her arms tightly around Sarai's neck.

Sarai lifted Jaedyn up onto her hip, turning back to face Jeanne and Rene with fury and relief struggling for dominance on her face. Relief won. Jaedyn buried her face in her mother's hair, cheeks damp with tears, and Sarai petted the auburn hair soothingly. "It is alright, Jae." She promised, her voice whisper soft, but still sweet. "I am here, it is alright."

Sarai's gun was back in its holster at her hip, and there was no more hostility in her behaviour, she was simply a mother, vulnerable and afraid, and Jeanne finally had a moment to put together all the things she'd heard and seen today. She turned to look at her father, helpless betrayal in her eyes, and he had only cool resignation in his. She couldn't help herself, her hand acted by itself, and Rene's eyes watered at the slap.

Sarai sat in a small room at the hospital with Jaedyn asleep in her lap and Jeanne sitting across from her in silence. "Thank you." She said quietly, brushing her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"For what?" asked Jeanne bitterly. "Slapping my father?"

Sarai shook her head, eyes sad. "For making sure my daughter was looked after. And I am...so sorry for frightening you."

"I understand." Replied Jeanne with a sigh.

"It still was not right." The Israeli said, repentance clear in her voice. "It is easier to see that now."

"Would you really have done it?" asked the strawberry-blonde curiously.

The darker woman was quiet for a moment and then spoke slowly. "I have not pulled a trigger in five years, and I have never pulled one if I thought I could help it. I do not think I would have done it today."

"But you're not sure." Read Jeanne easily enough.

"I am sorry." Offered Sarai again helplessly.

Jeanne smiled ruefully. "This is not what I thought my day would be like when I got up this morning. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but who are you?"

"Oh, right." Sarai swallowed, saying the full title out loud for the first time. "Special Agent Kyra Sandors, NCIS."

"NC.... Sorry, I don't think I know that one." The doctor frowned thoughtfully.

"Most people do not." Smiled Sarai. "Naval Criminal Investigative Services. Like FBI for the navy and marine corps."

Jeanne put a hand to her forehead tiredly. "Great. So my father didn't just kidnap someone, he kidnapped the daughter of a federal agent." She paused. "Wait a second, I have heard of NCIS before. Something on the news, and the name Kyra, only it wasn't Sandors."

"Sandors is my maiden name." agreed Sarai quietly. "My husband's name is Gibbs."

"Oh God." Muttered Jeanne, falling back in her chair a little. "You're that woman who got shot a couple of weeks ago. Please tell me my father didn't...."

"Your father did not shoot me." She cut the younger woman off, not bothering to explain the details.

Jeanne didn't look particularly reassured, but she let it go. "So, do I have to go 'downtown' or something?"

The first hint of a smile crossed Sarai's lips. "No. Someone will be here to take statements fairly soon, then you can go home."

"But my father's going to jail." Added Jeanne.

"I do not know." Said Sarai quietly. "It depends entirely on the kind of deal he makes, and the amount of money he is paying his lawyer to win the case. I do not really care what happens to him as long as my children are safe."

Jeanne smiled weakly and moved on to the topic that Sarai had offered up. "You've got more than just the little girl?" asked the younger woman, and Sarai nodded.

"Yes. She has a twin brother." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the wallet that her kidnappers hadn't bothered to remove.

She handed Jeanne a picture, and the other woman smiled at the image. It was of both twins and Sarai and Gibbs, taken by Ducky a few months earlier. "He's adorable." Said Jeanne gently. "Is this your husband?"

Sarai nodded. "Benjamin is more his father's son than mine. He is already asking to go in to work with Jethro. I do not know what I will do when he is actually old enough to do it."

"Your husband is an agent too?" observed Jeanne.

"So is everybody else in my family." She looked sad for a moment. "I worry that my children will want that too, sometimes. It is not a world any mother wants to see her child in."

"What you were saying earlier...." Jeanne began, hesitantly. "About you being fifteen, and my father making you, what did you mean?"

Sarai turned her gaze down to her daughter in her lap, not sure how to answer the question. "I...I was...."

"Jeanne!" Tony's voice cut her off and she would never been more glad to see the Italian agent again in her life. "I came as soon as I got your message, what's going on?"

"My father's a criminal, Tony." Replied Jeanne bitterly, tears coming back to her eyes. "A sick criminal."

Tony glanced between Sarai and Jeanne, not sure which woman he needed to tend to first, and not sure whether he was an agent or a boyfriend right now. Sarai noticed his anxiety and stood up, holding Jaedyn on her hip. She moved to the far corner of the room, giving him an easy answer. He went over to Jeanne, and Sarai watched from the corner of her eye as they whispered hurriedly. She saw him glance over at her a couple of times, and eventually Jeanne tipped her head and he came over. "She okay?" he asked gently, petting Jaedyn's hair.

"Physically, yes." replied Sarai, tightly. "But she panics if I put her down. He left her here by herself, Anthony."

"He must've made me." Frowned Tony thoughtfully. "He knows Jeanne would've told me about her, and I would get her back. It kept him completely clean."

"This is why I left, Tony." She whispered miserably. "So something like this wouldn't happen."

He glanced at her, a quiet sympathy in his eyes. "We got read into Jasper's case." He informed her quietly. "Ziva's worried about you. She thought you were dead all these years you know, they all did. Thought you'd killed yourself. That boy of yours, Michael, said that it was because they found out you'd visited the cemetery where Jacob and your daughters were buried."

"They told Ziva?" she asked, her face falling. "I did not want her to know about that." she sighed to herself, licking her lips and taking a deep breath. "When will the others get here?"

"A couple minutes." Replied Tony. "Did you tell...?"

Sarai shook her head. "I have told her nothing. Just remember what I said Tony, because you are running out of time."

He nodded, sighing. "Yeah, I know. She's not going to take it too well after this, but I'll figure something out. Take care of yourself, Sarai." He went back to Jeanne, putting his arm around the young woman's shoulders.

Sarai watched them together for a moment and then slipped out, holding Jaedyn in her arms carefully. The little girl was starting to be too heavy, but she held on anyway, not ready to let go of her daughter just yet. She saw Gibbs, Ziva, and McGee pull up in the sedan and suddenly felt very tired. She realized that she hadn't slept well since she'd woken from her coma and she was hyper-aware of the exhaustion that tugged at her limbs and her mind. Ziva and McGee headed over to hospital security, who were holding Rene for them, while Gibbs made a bee-line for his wife. "Don't you ever do something like that again." He growled, too relieved to sound as grumpy as usual.

She smiled weakly. "Yes sir." She murmured.

He sighed and folded her into his arms, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I think this is enough excitement for the rest of my life." He sighed, equally as tired as Sarai. "How about you?"

"I would like to go home." She answered quietly.

McGee held his expression clear as he talked to Jeanne and Tony, acting like it wasn't weird to see his partner on the other side of the equation. "Can you please tell me what happened today, Miss Benoit?" he asked politely. Jeanne wasn't really looking at him, she was watching Sarai across the hall, thinking carefully. "Miss Benoit?" repeated McGee, trying to get her attention.

Tony rubbed his girlfriend's arm soothingly, knowing what was on her mind. "Jeanne?"

She glanced up, as if hearing them speak for the first time. "I, uh, I was supposed to go to lunch with my father at the Garden today, but when I showed up he was talking to that woman." She gestured to Sarai. "She kept asking him where her daughter was, but he insisted he didn't know."

"Do you remember what they said?" asked McGee, scribbling on his notepad. "It would be really helpful to know what they were talking about exactly."

"Um," Jeanne racked her brain quickly. "She asked where her daughter was but he said he didn't know. She said he'd promised to bring her home, but she wasn't there, or with him, and she asked again, but he didn't answer. She said he started it and should've been prepared to finish it, and that he'd made her, and something about being only fifteen, and how he shouldn't have involved Jaedyn because she had nothing to do with it."

McGee made another note and glanced up with one final question. "Did either of them have any weapons?" he asked.

Jeanne gave one last look at the Israeli. Sarai stumbled a little and Gibbs caught her by the elbow, worry and exhaustion etched into every line on his face as he guided her carefully towards the car. "Yes." replied the Frenchwoman, finally calm. "She had one, but she never took it out of its holster."

Ziva watched Gibbs guide her sister out to a car, wincing when the older woman stumbled tiredly. The last few weeks had been hard on everyone, and she knew that she had hurt Sarai by refusing to speak to her for the last two weeks. But today, getting the call from her boss that Sarai had decided to do what the kidnappers asked regardless of the chances of her living through it had brought back a storm of memories. All day, waiting to hear if the older girl was alright, she'd been reliving every time that Sarai had chosen of her own freewill to act as a shield for Ziva, Tahlia, and Michael, and Ziva felt incredibly guilty for closing her out the first time she had asked for help. She pursed her lips and walked over to the security guards that were looking after Rene Benoit. "Come with me please, Mr. Benoit." She said, taking him over to the car she'd arrived in. McGee joined her quickly and the two of them got into the car, Ziva reluctantly taking the passenger's seat. About fifteen minutes into their drive back, Ziva noticed a motorcycle that was keeping up with their car, revving it's engine provocatively. She was about to mention something to McGee, who was focusing on the road ahead of him, when she remembered the last time she'd seen a motorcycle like that. She eyed the biker out of the corner of her eye until she saw what she was looking for; a piece of sky blue silk peeking out of the leather jacket, the sign they'd used in Israel. Each of them, Tahlia, Michael, Sarai, and herself, each had a specific colour that they'd used to identify themselves amongst each other. Ziva turned her eyes back to the road and rolled her window down, draping her arm out. She patted her hand gently against the car door three times.

Three minutes.

She left her arm out for another minute or so after the signal, and then withdrew it, rolling her window back up. McGee hadn't so much as looked at her this whole time, and Rene was in the back seat, completely oblivious and stubbornly silent. Another two minutes passed, and three shots rang out, one after another, and the biker gunned his engine and disappeared into the distance. McGee pulled over quickly, but it was too late. Rene Benoit was dead in the back seat, three neat shots to the chest. Ziva offered a silent prayer for him, something Sarai had taught her sisters to do every time anyone fell in the line of duty, friend or enemy. The two agents exchanged a grim look. "What do we do?" asked McGee darkly.

Ziva shook her head slowly. "We call Ducky."

Tony hung up the phone in Jeanne's apartment, dropping down on the couch with a sigh. Jeanne looked at him anxiously. "What was it?" she asked. She had refused to answer the phone when she saw the initials on the Caller ID, making Tony speak to the caller instead. "What'd they say?"

"Well," Tony began carefully. "You're father's not going to trial for any of this." Jeanne stared at him but he wasn't done. "Apparently someone shot at him and the agents escorting him on the drive to NCIS Headquarters. He's dead Jeanne." Tony explained quietly.

Jeanne's head fell back against the couch and she didn't speak or move, she was too stunned to do anything but stare at the ceiling. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the doctor in her knew that she was in shock and that she should probably do something, but the rest of her refused to leave the numb little bubble she'd been encompassed in. She didn't quite recognize her own voice as the words came out. "Good." She said blankly. "He deserves it after everything that's happened."

Tony glanced at her sharply. "You don't mean that Jeanne." He told her firmly. "You're just stressed. And you're keeping something back. What really happened today?"

Jeanne glared at him. Damn him for being so perceptive. "I'm not keeping anything back Tony." She said decidedly. "I told those agents everything that happened."

"No you didn't. You lied to protect a stranger. Why?"

"Why would you ask something like that?" she demanded, frustrated. She didn't want to keep lying to him, but she didn't want to tell him the truth either, so the only middle ground was to simply not speak of it.

"Because I know Kyra." He said quietly, praying he was doing the right thing. "The woman never goes unarmed and she has some of the fastest reaction times I've ever seen. When she's pissed off, no one messes with her, and if she thought Rene had Jaedyn, she wouldn't just ask him politely and hope he told her the truth. She'd use anything she could to find her daughter, and that includes you."

Jeanne turned to look at him, eyes wide, and he started praying faster. "What do you mean you know Kyra?" she asked softly, looking frightened of the answer she might get.

"I love you Jeanne, you have to know that." He said desperately. "This is every bit as real for me as it is for you. But...my name's not Tony DiNardo, it's DiNozzo, and I work for NCIS, just like the people you saw today, just like Kyra."

Her lower lip trembled and she stared at him in terror. "Tony...." she whispered, shaking her head.

"I have to tell you this Jeanne, because as soon as we caught your father, my job was over, but I don't want to lose you. I tried to stay detached, but I couldn't, and I love you."

"When...." Her eyes darted away and back to his face quickly. "When we first...."

"It had been real for me for a long time already." He promised quietly. "Almost from the beginning. Look, I understand that a lot is happening right now, and I know you're probably pissed and hurt and nowhere near ready to forgive me for this just yet, but when you are, I'll be...."

"No Tony." She cut him off quietly. "Just no. No matter what, I'll never be able to handle this. I need you to go."

Tony nodded mutely, getting up and walking to the door. He paused with his door on the handle, glancing back at her for a moment. She was slumped on the couch, staring into space. "Goodbye Jeanne." He murmured, and he pulled the door open and left. No sooner had the door closed behind him than Jeanne jumped up and started throwing together a bag. She couldn't deal with any of this. She'd been trying to find the time for some Aid work for years and now was as good a time as any for it.

Two tiny bodies lay curled between Gibbs and his wife, and Sarai petted Jaedyn's hair softly, her eyes locked on the two peaceful, sleeping faces. She looked up in surprise when his hand moved to rest on her hip through the gold comforter. He didn't say anything, but the look on his face said everything she needed to hear in this moment.

It's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to change this. She'll be fine. It's over. You're safe. We're all safe. No one blames you.

She sighed, lowering her eyes. "It is like Tahlia all over again." She murmured softly. "Rationally, I know that it was not my fault, but I cannot see it that way. I keep thinking...that if I had been...better, faster, made smarter choices, maybe it would not have happened."

"Or maybe we would have lost our daughter." He pointed out quietly. "Maybe, with Tahlia, you would have gotten killed instead. We never know what could have happened, so there's no reason to torture yourself over it."

"The thing is...," Sarai began thoughtfully. "What did he stand to gain by taking me out? Until I went into the coma, I had no connection to Jenny. What was the point of killing a woman that she may or may not have had a knowledge about?"

Gibbs was silent for a moment. "DiNozzo's my agent." He replied slowly. "This time, he wasn't trying to get to Jenny, he must have thought that I sent Tony to get close to him. His way of making a point is to kill the person closest to you. He was aiming for me, and he got lucky."

"Or unlucky." She added, knowing what he was thinking. "After-all, he is dead now."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that." said Gibbs, glancing at her curiously. "Did you have anything to do with that? I mean, I know you still have pull at Mossad."

Sarai shook her head. "I do not use it anymore." She replied. "And I would never order such a thing anyway. It sounds more like my father. From Tim and Ziva's reports...it sounded...awfully familiar. But I have not seen anything like it since...Gaza, '02. I never could find out how that went down, but the victim was a prisoner who was going to trial for terrorism. I guess someone did not want him to testify."

"And as a result, you're no longer in danger, and the Directors are free to get rid of the evidence they had to leave to figure this out. Jen's career is safe, you're still valuable as an asset, NCIS and Mossad look like two cooperating agencies not a family business, and your placement looks like a normal event not the reinstatement of a ghost." Gibbs sighed, rubbing her arm absently. "Smooth, just like always. Is this how it's always been?"

She smiled gently. "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about." She replied innocently.

He gave an amused huff and twined his finger with hers carefully. "Yeah, I thought so. 'Night baby." She closed her eyes, nestling into the blankets, and pretty soon her breathing slowed and grew steady. He sighed, taking in the sight of his family. It had cost them all a lot to have this, but he knew it was worth it.

Ziva walked up to the young man sitting at the bar, sliding onto a seat next to him. "You don't usually drink alone Michael." She commented, gesturing to the bartender.

"Didn't have anyone to drink with this time, Ziv." He replied, just a hint of sadness in his voice. "My girl is at home with her husband, you were working, and Tali's gone."

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" she asked, incredulously. "Or at least teammates?"

"Nope." He said dryly. "Head of the Unit position has changed a little since it was vacated five years ago. Did you know that our team was by request? Ice said she wouldn't take the job unless she had the three of us working ops under her command."

Ziva's eyes widened. "No, I didn't. How is it that you two were so close anyway? Director Sheppard told us about what happened in '92, how do you and Sarai manage to get along so well?" she knew it was a sensitive topic; Michael never talked about his father, but she had to ask.

He swirled his drink around in the glass, glaring at it darkly. "I turned Jacob in." he replied quietly, avoiding her eyes. "I was still in love with her at the time, and when I found out what had happened, I didn't have any second thoughts about going straight to the Director, I didn't even feel sad when they told me he was dead. Ice knew about that, and.... Well, we didn't run into each other again until we were seventeen, and she was doing a lot better than she had been right after...it happened. For a long time after that, I could tell that she saw Jacob every time she looked at me, but I think she was just grateful to have someone who felt something other than anger about it. She was never angry, just hurt, and I think it was hard for her to deal with her parents right then. They looked after her, but they'd never really been there for her the way she needed them to be so it wasn't easy for her to ask them for help. I was just someone she could talk to."

"She had children." Said Ziva slowly, watching him. "But she never told us, Tali and me I mean."

"She never told anyone." Shrugged Michael, tossing back the rest of his drink. "She never talked about that, I don't even think she told Gibbs."

"Why would she?" asked Ziva curiously.

Michael looked up at her, like it was obvious. "Alira was his." He explained. "Remember that week that she went missing, just a few months after she got back? I found her the second day by Jacob's grave. I made her promise that she wouldn't go back to the cemetery again. That's why she never attended her operatives' funerals, she would've gotten lost in there. It was bad enough trying to get her out the first time, I didn't want to have to do it again, especially not with the rest of the operatives around."

Ziva closed her eyes, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. "No, I guess that wouldn't have been good."

"You have no idea." Agreed Michael. He knew he probably shouldn't be telling Ziva all of this, but she deserved to know about this piece of her sister's life, and he needed someone at least to know what had happened that day. "I need you to look out for her for me, okay? She's more fragile than most people would think just looking at her."

"Sarai has a lot of people looking out for her." Said Ziva dryly. "She doesn't need her little sister getting protective."

"Yes she does." Replied Michael decidedly. "Someone needs to know what really happened, and I can't tell anyone else Ziva, I don't know or trust anyone else enough."

Ziva looked at him curiously, and then nodded. "Why don't you came back to my place, Michael. We probably shouldn't be talking about this at a bar." They left together and Ziva cast an amused glance at the motorcycle parked in front of the bar. "You have fun on your last assignment?"

He grinned. "Very much." He replied easily. "The mark was a sick bastard. I'll sleep just fine tonight."

She shook her head, hiding the smile, and led him to her car. They got to her apartment quickly and once they settled into the living room, she opened her hands to him. "Go ahead."

"I drove her home once I found her, and she was pretty much catatonic." Began Michael bluntly. He was determined not to mince words on this, because she had to understand what could happen. "She didn't want me to stay with her, so I went back to work, reported to the Director. We both decided that it would be best not to let anyone else see her like that, so we didn't tell anyone, not even Vana, which pissed her off to no end. But we knew that she really shouldn't be left alone, so I went back to check on her. She was curled up on the bed and she had her gun out. I actually thought she'd done it for a second until I heard her crying. She was hysterical, and it was obvious that she had no idea what she was saying, she didn't even remember when I asked her about it later. But she was talking about a whole bunch of things that had happened in her life, she mentioned Agent Gibbs a few times, my father, her grandfather, someone named Holly, a few of her assignments even. I don't know exactly why they were all connected in her head, but I get the feeling she was trying to explain why she had wanted to shoot herself and why she couldn't. It was scary, actually, I've never seen her like that before or since, but it's always possible. Eli and I decided that she couldn't stay alone anymore, it was too risky, so we brought her to his house. Vana was pissed, of course, like I said, but she didn't give us too much hell for it. We, uh, we locked up that part of the house, so no one would get in. Or out. Vana took care of her that week, mostly just trying to get her to eat, or talk, or do something other than stare at the ceiling all day. She only ever responded to me, and I think Eli thought it was my baby she'd lost for a while. He didn't like that much, but he figured out it wasn't true eventually. Ice had said something to me earlier, about an American she'd been working with in Russia, and I knew Gibbs was the one she was talking about. I looked him up a few times, thought about telling him even, but by the time I got to him, he'd already gotten married, and I didn't think it would be a good idea. Anyway, one day I went to check on her and she was gone. She'd left a note. It said "I'm fine", and she showed up at work the next day. No one ever mentioned it again, like it had never happened. She's always been like that. If something happens, she crashes, whether it's for one second or for one year, and when she's better, she moves on and acts like it never happened. It's stupid, and dangerous, and it's just how she is. She doesn't let people help her Ziva, but she can't do it on her own. I'm not IN love with her anymore, but I still love her and I always did my best to look after her. When she left Israel, though, I couldn't do that anymore. It seems like Gibbs took over that job, and I want you to promise me that you'll help him. Don't tell anyone about this unless you have no choice, but know the warning signs. We're the only ones who have actually seen her working, and we know how she deals with this job. If she's going to come back, even as an NCIS agent, you need to keep an eye on her."

"I will Michael." Promised Ziva, a little shaken by the story. "I'll do what I can."

"Well, you were right Sarah." McGee told her.

Sarah looked up from her books. "I usually am." She teased. "What was I right about this time?"

"That teacher, Sandors, that you saw with Gibbs, they were an item." Explained McGee.

"They really are having an affair?" asked Sarah, surprised.

"No." McGee shook his head. "They're married. Have been for almost five years now. She wouldn't go to Mexico with him, so they separated for a while, and when you saw them, he was probably trying to apologize for leaving. They have kids, you know."

"That makes sense." Said Sarah thoughtfully. "She's a teacher and he's really good with kids. But I thought you said he wasn't the marriage kind anymore."

McGee shrugged. "I guess I was wrong. You should see him with her, Sarah, it's really weird. He's actually...nice. It's going to be really interesting to see her in action, she's Ziva's sister."

"Wow. I guess that means she used to work for Mossad. That's kind of cool." She closed her books and shoved all of her things into her bag. "Hey, maybe I could come into work with you sometime and hang out. I didn't really get to look around much the last time since I was being accused of murder."

"I'm sure Gibbs won't mind. If you have any time off, go ahead and call, and I'll see if you can pop in." agreed McGee.