A/N: Something about Westley's torture and forewarned death reminded me of Ziva's plight in the finale…and it all went down hill from there.

Disclaimer: This is basically me sticking together the end of Aliyahof NCIS with a bit of the abridged version of The Princess Bride by William Goldman. This is purely me trying to work through a dark period today, this is not for profit and not copyright infringement or offence is meant.

Just us and Justice

Salim released the bolt that sealed the old wooden door with a confident pull on his wrist and exhaled a smoke-laded breath. The door eased open with surprising silence, or at least it would have been surprising if he hadn't done it many times before. Before him, lay a dirty, dingy room. The space was lit only from an arched and dusty window in the back and even though the daylight was at its peak, the suns raze could not manage to penetrate all the corners of the small room. In the middle a figure lay slumped in a chair, hands bound. She was the only occupant of the room. Salim sauntered forwards, blowing out a cloud of smoke that mixed in effortlessly with the already murky air. His boots made little sound as he walked calmly towards the woman, he was in no hurry. He removed the cigarette from his lips and let it fall to the ground and mechanically crushed it with his foot.

His prisoner did not stir as he stopped before her. Salim reached forward and clasped her necklace in his hand. With one small pull its weakened chain snapped and released itself from her neck. He opened his hand and examined the delicate charm now residing on his fingers. The Star of David. He closed his hand.

With his other, he grasped her by the back of her hair and yanked her head back. The prisoner gave a ragged gasp, the first sign she had given to acknowledge his presence. He stared into her mangled and beaten face. He imagined she was quite beautiful once, but he could no longer see it.

He looked into her one good eye and said,

"Tell me everything you know about NCIS."

"Why did you pause?" I asked. Dad held the remote in his hand, I looked at him incredulously.

"You're really getting into this, aren't you?" he asked, he looked worried like that time when I was seven and I'd announced my ambition to one day ride a motorcycle through a ring a fire like they did at the circus.

"Um…kind of?" I shrugged then glanced involuntarily to where the box containing the 6 discs of Season 7 sat waiting on Dad's DVD shelf. He had all sorts of old TV shows on DVD (he refuses to switch to Blu-Ray much to my protest) and we'd finally found one we could work through together without myself getting totally bored (how many Law & Orders are still out there?) or lost (like LOST).

"I think we should stop here." He released the pause and the credits rolled. So ended Season 6 of NCIS.

"What?" I was shocked at his plan, I needed to find out what happened! Would Gibbs and the team come and rescue Ziva? What about her and Tony? (I was convinced they had to end up together and every time I expressed this to Dad he would only smile like when I was eight and I asked repeatedly if Santa Clause was real.) The team had to be reunited, they could not lose another person. (How many agents who sat in that desk were supposed to bite the dust, anyway?) What was the deal with Vance and Ziva's malevolent father?

I got very angry at the possibility of my story being taken away.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

Whoa. Where did that come from? Of course I trusted him. He was my Dad, I idolized him and treasured the past few weeks in which we'd both sat aside time in our busy schedule to set side by side and follow Gibb's and his team through their semi-Naval related adventures. I could only nod yes.

"Listen, Chris." I loved when I called me that, Mom never did. "I realize you're taking this very seriously."

"No, I'm not…" Even I didn't believe the words sounded convincing as they left my lips.

"Okay, how about this," Dad said as he shifted his position of the sofa to face me better, "We wait to start the next season until tomorrow night."

"But it's only 6 o'clock!" I argued. "We can fit in another one! We always watch at least two episodes a night, if you don't want to watch anymore just tell me what happens now!"

"That would be the same as letting you watch. Just you tell me that you're okay to wait 'till tomorrow and we'll continue then."

He stood up and walked to the DVD player as I pondered his request. He ejected the disk and returned it to its bright red box of a home.

"I can't promise until I know what happens," I told him. "I just can't."

"Chris…"

"Dad, if we don't watch it now I'll wait till you and Mom are asleep and watch it on my own…or I'll just Google it." I fingered the laptop on the side table beside me to emphasize my point.

My father signed and I recognized defeat. He hated me to spoil myself. I had proposed it back when I became anxious on finding out the identify of the terrorist that had pissed of Gibbs so bad in Season 1 and Dad and made me promise to wait until it came out on the show. But he couldn't get me to promise this time and I had won this round.

"Just promise me you won't hate me when it happens."

"Just tell me now," I proposed. If it was really that bad, best to get it over with quickly. "Tell me what happens and I'll tell you if I want to keep watching."

He took a deep breath and I braised myself.

"Ziva dies."

I took a moment to absorb that. Shock. Anger. Denial.

"What do you mean?''

"They kill her, a little later in the season."

"Who?" I demanded. "Who kills her? Is it Salim? Gibb's gets him in the end, right?" Gibbs always got his man.

Dad just shook his head.

"I don't get it." Angry tears burned my eyes and I struggled to find what must be the logical outcome of this story. "When Ari killed Kate he got Ari in the end. Some one has to avenge Ziva, right?"

My Dad opened his opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Gibbs wouldn't let anything happen to her?" I cried in desperation. "She still his agent, right?"

My Dad could only look at me with what I realized was pity in his eyes. I rubbed furiously at the tears fighting to escape from my eyes. I thought of Gibbs losing another agent (because she was his agent) and Abby and McGee losing another friend and Tony losing another…partner? That didn't seem right. They had something between them, I liked to think it was love, as I had told my Dad before, but now I'm not so sure I'll ever know. Or if I want to.

I cried and my Dad held me. Season 7 lay untouched.

Edit: I totally mixed up the seasons, lol, I must have been pretty messed when I wrote this, sorry about that...now fixed, hopefully