Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Okay, Zani, let's put your "only 15 chapters" to the test. Oh, and remember, this is Alternate Universe. I'm not really sure how this categorizes as Alternate Universe, but that's what she's got it down as, so.- Licia

Washington, D.C.,

Navy Yard,

Interrogation Room A

2020

She wasn't exactly sure how she'd landed herself in this position- wrists cuffed, sitting alone in a stone-cold interrogation room, waiting to be interviewed.

Somehow, someway, her partner had jumped the gun, disappearing into the cloudy American weather, leaving her to be caught- and taken in- by Navy cops. That sniveling bastard of a partner had left her... what was that phrase? Holding the gag?

Sighing, she glanced around the room, her gaze moving to the door, a mental list running through her head of the four agents that had brought her in, wondering which one would walk through that door. She'd take any of them over that loudmouth, movie-loving Italian, the one who couldn't go ten seconds without filling the silence with some stupid movie quote. Then again, now that she thought of it, she'd rather not deal with the woman- that clearly Catholic-schoolgirl prude wouldn't know sexual innuendo if it bit her in the ass; not to mention the fact that she didn't like dealing with other women unless she had to. Better the only female agent on the team stay away.

That left two options- the grey-haired older man with the intense ice blue eyes- the one who was clearly the team leader, from the way he carried himself and commanded a room as soon as he stepped into it- or the younger man. Personally, she hoped it was the second man that questioned her; the one with the rusty-blonde hair and striking green eyes, who wore the Claddagh ring with the tiger's eye heart on the middle finger of his right hand.

Yes, she seriously hoped it was him.

"So which one of us is gonna interrogate little Miss Sunshine in there?" Tony asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Tim rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall directly across from the door. In his nearly eighteen years- seventeen to be exact- as an agent for NCIS, he'd learned a few things; one of which was to keep your mouth shut when it came to who interrogated a suspect. It usually ended up being Gibbs.

The older man in question glanced around at each of his agents, his kids.

As the oldest, Tony was the class clown, the one who Gibbs often relied on to keep the others in line- even though Tony himself was often the one that needed to tow said line. He'd mellowed out some, though, since he started dating Dr. Jeanne Benoit, one of the top doctors at Bethesda. And having started as a cop on the Baltimore force, Tony had a background the others didn't- he was well-versed in local LEO lingo, and oftentimes played mediator between NCIS and metro.

His gaze slid to Kate, the only female agent on his team; former Secret Service for the United States President, the youngest of four children from Indiana. She'd done nearly two years of law school before switching to criminology and psychology, as a result, she was an excellent profiler; it was her profiles that usually led them to catching whomever they sought for the current case they were chasing.

Finally, he turned his blue stare to Tim, the youngest of his three agents; the computer prodigy, the one who'd been accepted into MENSA as a child of four. He'd been born in Alameda, on the naval base, but had spent his childhood bouncing back and forth between America and Ireland after his parents divorced, depending on whichever one wanted him and his younger sister at that precise moment. The son of a Navy admiral, the closest Tim got to being in the Navy was NCIS- something his father despised, and didn't hesitate to call him on. Though he was the youngest- at barely forty- he looked as though he were still in his twenties.

Each had the potential to be great team leaders, and yet, they stayed with Gibbs, all citing that they still had much to learn from the former sniper.

After a moment, he turned back to the door of the interrogation room.

She looked up, mood souring further at the sight of the older man stepping into the room and shutting the door. She curled her lip as he took a seat across from her, silent. Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, to the mirror, where she knew the three agents would be watching. Silence reigned, as he watched her, studying the woman sitting before him-

"I was hoping you were the other one." He met her gaze, cocking his head to the side. She rolled her eyes; clearly, she was going to have to do all the talking. "The younger one. The one who wears the ring, with the tiger's eye set in it." She let her gaze move up and down the older agent quickly. "No offense."

"And why should I let Agent McGee interrogate you?" Gibbs asked, clearing his throat softly.

The girl seemed to perk at the mention of the younger man's name; she sat up a little straighter, lifted her chin a little higher, almost like she were preening. "Agent McGee? That is his name?" Gibbs hesitated before nodding once. He watched her gaze flick to the window, quickly searching him out, looking for the area he would be standing in. "What is his first name?" Silence. "Please. Tell me. What is his first name?" Finally, her eyes settled, and Gibbs glanced over his shoulder.

Of course, she would choose there.

Smack in the middle.

"Tim. Timothy." Gibbs replied, narrowing his gaze at the window. Though she couldn't see through the mirror, just the fact that she'd managed to pick out the space he'd been standing in unnerved the older man, making him wonder what exactly this girl was capable of.

"Timothy." The name rolled off her tongue like the gentlest of breezes, each vocal chord caressing and tasting a letter before letting it go. She smiled, biting her bottom lip in glee. "Finally."

Gibbs turned back to her; there was something about the look in her eyes that set his gut twisting.

"What do we know about her?"

"Next to nothing. She won't give us her name, where she's from, or who she's with. Wouldn't tell us her partner's name either, or if they have the-"

But Tim wasn't listening to his partners' conversation. He was too busy studying the girl across the mirror, sitting at the table across from Gibbs. There was something familiar about her- vaguely familiar. As though he'd run into her somewhere, one of those chance meetings that only last a minute, but stay with you for a lifetime.

"Tim? Tim! McGee!"

His head snapped to the side, finding Kate watching him, worried. "What?"

"Are you okay?" He furrowed a brow.

"I'm fine, why?"

"You got this really weird look on your face, Probie. It was actually... really creepy." Tony replied, taking a minuscule step away. Tim rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, Tony." Then, he returned to watching the conversation- or lack thereof. Suddenly, Gibbs stood, going to the door; he cast one last glance at the girl before yanking it open and stepping outside, shutting it behind him. Before any of them could suggest what might have prompted the older man to leave the room, the door to Observation opened and Gibbs stuck his head in. Without a word, he cocked his finger at Tim and beckoned him to follow. The meaning was clear:

She wants to talk to you.

Her gaze slid to the side as the door opened once more, and he stepped over its threshold. A tiny smile tugged at her lips, one she tried desperately to quell. Once he sat down across from her, she reached out, unsure of what she was going to do, just longing to touch him, when she stopped. She looked down, suddenly remembering that her hands were cuffed and connected to the loop beneath the table, holding her in place.

However, just because she couldn't touch him, didn't mean she couldn't study him.

He truly was young, despite the years that had passed. Tall, and thin, with smooth, alabaster skin, and those striking green eyes.

They shone like emeralds.

She swallowed, taking a deep breath, drinking in every detail she could find, storing it away so she would always have it; the curve of his nose, the smooth set of his jaw, the deep glimmer of his eyes- everything and anything she could see was stored away in her mind for later, when she had a chance to review it, to truly admire it.

Oh he was a beautiful man, an absolutely beautiful man.

"What?" She started, embarrassed and annoyed that she'd been caught staring at him, not having heard him ask the question. He narrowed those emerald eyes at her, sitting forward and folding his hands on the table. The tiger's eye sparked in the light, catching her gaze, which she let dart from it to his face and back.

"I asked you what you're doing here."

She met his gaze. "I am on a mission." He raised an eyebrow.

"We were able to figure that out. You need to be more specific." She shook her head once; it was so small, Tony, Kate and Gibbs in Observation missed it.

"I cannot do that."

"And why not?" Her gaze moved to the mirror before going back to him, a sigh following.

"Because it is classified. And if I tell, I will be forced to return, and maybe I am not ready to."

"Return to where, exactly?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn't trust her, didn't like this game she was playing with him. This...

Twenty Questions.

She huffed, sitting back. Her eyes rolled heavenward briefly, before returning to him. "Israel." One slender eyebrow rose again, not questioning, merely curious.

"Israel?" She nodded. "And... what exactly... is an Israeli doing in America?" His voice dropped low, and she felt her stomach begin to knot. Many men had spoken to her in a tone as husky, possessive and seductive as that, but none had managed to turn her insides to jello with one simple sentence.

A moment passed as she swallowed, forcing the lump in her throat down. She couldn't blow it now, she'd come too far. She would never forgive herself if she slipped up, if she let her emotions get in the way-

Silence filled the room, and she struggled to get her thoughts together. Her eyes moved to his hands, to the ring he wore. She reached for it, but due to the cuffs, couldn't move her hands very far. "M... may I see that?" She pointed to to the ring as he glanced at it. "Please."

Seconds ticked by before he finally unfolded his hands and removed the ring from his finger, setting it on the table in front of her. Eagerly, she picked it up, studying the ancient Celtic design, the two hands holding the heart between them. It was beautiful, as beautiful as he was. "It's the Celtic symbol for friendship." She nodded. "And Tiger's-"

"- Eye holds the power to protect, to heal and give luck. It is used for focus and... meditation." She slid the ring onto her right ring finger; it was far too big, but just the feel of it on her hand, brought a peace to her soul she had not felt for years. He held out his hand, and after a moment, she reluctantly took it off and handed it back.

"You didn't answer my questions." She watched as he slid the ring back on his finger, wanting desperately to slide her fingers between his. "What are you doing here?" He watched her bite her lip; clearly something she did when she was nervous. "And, more importantly, who are you?" He watched as she lowered her head, her shoulders beginning to shake with silent sobs; clearly, she'd been caught and could no longer keep up the ruse. The seconds ticked by, stretching into minutes, before finally, she replied, her voice soft,

"My name is... my name is Mara-Anat, and I... I came mainly to... to find my father."

Tim raised an eyebrow, there was no way he believed that story for even a moment. "You really expect me to believe that you're here to find your father and not steal Navy intel to hand off to our enemies?" The girl nodded, not looking up. He chuckled dryly. "And... who, might I ask, is your 'father'?"

Slowly she lifted her head, and he saw tears slipping down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, and in a voice choked with tears, she whispered,

"Shalom, Abba."