Hey guys! I recently got re-addicted to NCIS and decided to write a fanfiction (naturally) ;) Hope you like this one. First book of the Hunted series.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize

Characters are (as always) AU

Adios!

~Bandit


Hunted

Burning Embers

Chapter 1

Tony sat down in his office chair with enough force that it spun around twice. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and turned his computer on. He clicked a few documents and put his feet up on the desk, relaxing in his chair, waiting for the rest of his team to arrive.

"Gibbs won't like you doing that," McGee said sheepishly, striding into the bullpen. Tony sneered at him and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"Just can it McGee," Tony rubbed his temples, urging his headache to go away.

"Sleep well last night?" McGee turned on his computer.

Tony chuckled harshly, "I don't want to talk about it."

McGee started to rapidly type on his computer, instantly getting to work, installing seven new programs in his computer. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony snapped his eyes open and stared icily at McGee.

"Feet off the desk," Gibbs said, walking into the bullpen with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Tony sighed loudly and reluctantly obliged.

"Where's Ziva?" Gibbs asked, sitting down at his desk.

"I don't know, she hasn't arrived yet," McGee answered, still typing away on his keyboard.

The elevator door rang and Ziva stepped out, talking to a man with large muscles and long hair pulled back in rough ponytail as they held hands. Ziva stopped, smiled at him, then stood on her tip toes and kissed him on his cheek. He smiled back, unlocked hands with Ziva, and returned to the elevator, pressing the button to go down. Tony sneered as she passed by him. Ever since she'd started dating him, Tony'd had this bad feeling in his gut. He figured it was jealously, and it probably was. He felt bad because she was his friend, and he should probably wish what was best for Ziva and not let his own feelings get in the way of her happiness, but he just couldn't shake the feeling about this guy.

"Feeling alright Tony?" Gibbs sighed, noticing Tony glowering at the elevator door.

"To tell you to truth, boss, I feel like hell," Tony admitted as his head pounded on like bongo drums.

"You look like hell too," Ziva chuckled as she plopped down in her chair. She winked innocently at him.

"I didn't sleep well last night," Tony stared intently at his computer screen. "I had a couple of nightmares," he looked over at Gibbs' desk, only to find that it was empty. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes again.

"What happened to your head, Ziva?" Gibbs asked, reappearing right next to Ziva's desk with a steaming new cup of coffee. Ziva faintly touched the deep welt right above her left eye.

"Oh it's nothing, I just fell down the stairs this morning," she chuckled, "See?" she pulled down her turtle neck to reveal her shoulder, which had a large, green bruise on it.

McGee recoiled at the sight, "Are you okay, Ziva?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she let the turtleneck go back up to place.

Ducky appeared behind Tony's desk, "Gibbs, may I borrow Ziva? I need her help with something."

"Sure," he replied absentmindedly.

Ziva got up quickly and came out from behind her desk. She coughed loudly into her hand as she headed over to Ducky.

"Have you got a cold?" he asked, noticing the cough.

"Yeah, I think, a small one though," Ziva sighed as she followed the ME down to the autopsy room.

Tony watched them leave, then looked up at Gibbs, who was staring intently at Tony. His ice-blue eyes pierced into Tony, clearly asking a question. What the question was, Tony still had to find out himself.


Ziva quickly said goodbye to her team mates and hurried to the elevator not wanting to anger her boyfriend. She raced across the parking lot, spotting the familiar black SUV. She opened the glossy door and slide into the passenger seat.

"Hello," Ziva said, wanting to take her mind of things at work. It seemed like the team was falling apart, person by person.

"Hey babe," John replied, starting up the engine. In the dark light, he seemed evil, the way the shadows reflected on his hard face. Ziva shivered at the thought of what would come next. "You cold?" he asked smoothly, keeping his eyes on the road, but still managing to see her shiver.

"A little," Ziva thought for a moment, "I'll manage."

He peered at her, his expression stony, "Did you tell them?"

"No."

"You know I'll find out if you did."

Ziva stared hard into his eyes, "I swear I didn't."

"Good," he sighed and leaned back in his chair as he drove, using one hand to carelessly steer the wheel.

Ziva sighed and look out to the long, gloomy road that lead to her house, "They did notice my cut though," she muttered, hoping John wouldn't hear her.

He did though, because he swerved violently to the side of the road, and turned on her, his face red. Ziva shrunk back in her chair, her brown eyes wide. "What did you tell them?"

"I-I t-told t-them I-I hit my h-head falling down the s-stairs t-this morning," Ziva stuttered, cowering back from John.

"Good girl," he pulled back to the road and continued driving. Ziva breathed deeply and stared out the window of the car, desperately wishing someone was there to save her.


Ziva lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the situation she was in. She wanted to be saved so badly. But she couldn't. There was no logical reason. He was tough, no way could she fight him, she'd tried. Every time he picked her up from work, he'd take her guns without a second thought. Once she got to work, he gave her guns back, once she'd tried to shoot him, but he wore a bullet-proof vest. He told her if she told anyone, he'd make her watch them die, and then he'd kill her. She normally wouldn't be worried about this, but he'd found everyone's address, everyone she cared about.

There was no escape. She carefully got out of her bed, and flicked the light switch by her door on. It took the cheap light that hung from the water-stained ceiling to actually turn on. Ziva looked into the cracked mirror the sat in the corner of her tiny bedroom. She scanned herself in the mirror, the light casting a dim glow on her body, constantly flickering. She rubbed at all the bruises and cuts, grimacing at the many scars that littered her stomach and chest.

She could hear his snoring from the couch in her living room, the TV blaring loudly. She rubbed her eyes and turned around to look at the digital clock resting on her bedside table. The faint, green light stated that it was two thirty in the morning. She sighed and sat hard on the carpet floor.

There was no doubt in her mind. She had to stop refusing it.

John abused her.


A/N: I always appreciate it when people review. It keeps me writing :)