Disclaimer: I own a punchbag, boxing gloves, a candle and an iPod. Interesting combination for dealing with powercuts.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long, I did warn you.

Ziva stumbled through her door, kicked off her running shoes and collapsed in a chair, her breathing beginning to calm. The past three months had been busy to the point of madness – some of it created by herself, as a distraction, some by her job. Her father had been overworking her drastically, throwing every assignment at her that he could, but she didn't blame him. She was even slightly grateful, she knew how people were looking at her, judging her, waiting for her to slip up so they could be proven right. Such a shame, she was so promising. He should never have allowed her to go to America. But she wouldn't make a single mistake. She had to be flawless. She had to prove that she was still worthy of Mossad. And she was. And she would. The apartment had improved in whatever time she had left between work, exercise, eating, sleeping . . . She had acquired living room furniture, a small table for eating at when she had company, and she had unpacked the few possessions she had brought with her. The place wasn't homely, but it was better. She booted up her laptop to check her email.

Hiya Ziva,
Everyone's great here. Still missing you, of course, you'll have to visit soon. Gibbs was grumpy with Vance when he wanted to assign a newbie to the team, so they shuffled in Lucas Logan, the guy who sat at the desk behind you, remember? Anyway, he seems to be able to cope with it quite well. Tony and he are consistently getting on each other's nerves, and subsequently on everyone else's. McGee's walking around with an inflated ego because his latest book just came out. He and Lucas seem to either bond or fight over computer stuff. Duck-man took me to a ballet – a guy jumped up and landed in splits. It looked sore. I tried it. I failed. It was sore. Jimmy got a girlfriend but she freaked out and left when she worked out what pathologist meant. He doesn't seem too cut up about it.
Umm, ummm, one sec, Gibbs. Oops. Didn't mean to type that. He's hounding me for results. He says hi, and he loves and misses you. Big hugs all round. Well, he doesn't, but he means it. I can always tell. :D
Love,
Abby
P.S. Have you ever seen a crocodile in the flesh? I figured you'd be the one to ask.

Hey Ziva,

Yeah, I'm good. How are you?

We have a new agent on our team – Lucas Logan. I expect you remember him. It's quite nice not to have to deal with a new person. He seems a decent sort, and already knows Gibbs, which is always useful, at least for him.

Abby's going through a crocodile obsession at the moment. Tony's going through a torture the new kid obsession, but it doesn't seem to be working too well. Sure, he gets in a few blows, but so does Lucas.

The next Deep Six book is out now, it's called Act Of War. I'm rather proud of it. I'm meant to be a while into writing the next, but I can't seem to start.

Good to hear from you,

McGee

Z,
New guy's really getting on my nerves. Calling me 'Lil' Ozzo'. Is OK, because there are plenty ways to tease 'Lucas L. Logan'. Still annoying though. Not that I didn't already know that.
McGee's all puffed up like a peacock. Abby's fallen in love with crocodiles, and is walking funny for some reason. Gibbs is Gibbs.
Have had a couple of hard cases, but am OK.
Have you seen "The Prestige"?
T

Ziva chuckled to herself at all the different perspectives of life at NCIS, and carefully composed replies to each. She then shut it down, and took a shower, enjoying the water beating against her thoroughly exhausted body. The pace of Mossad was stressful compared to that of NCIS, a gulf seemed to have appeared between Ziva and the people who used to be her friends – only a few had accepted her back even with how she had changed. Only about two viewed her changes the way she did, as improvements.

Stepping out of the shower, her mobile began to ring.

"David?"

The voice on the other end of the phone, one of her superiors, briefly informed her there had been some shooting nearby. At his request, she flung on some clothes, shoes and weapons, and strode out the door. Rushing into her car, she then threw the vehicle around the streets of Tel Aviv, to a hotel from where flurries of gunshots were heard at irregular, frequent intervals. A good friend of hers, one of her best in Israel, Kaniel, shortly arrived with a team that he split in two, designating half to Ziva.

"Don't worry, Zee," he said with a smile, "eventually they'll stop testing you and you'll be able to sleep like a normal person. Not that you're particularly normal, but we'll pretend you've not returned as an America-softened Mossad agent with a penchant for idioms and obscure films, shall we?"

She chose to ignore the jibe, focus on work, and hit him later. After a quick discussion, during which she fixed up the bullet-proof vest he had handed to her, she took her officers around the back of the hotel, entering through a service entrance. She saw a man in a black balaclava with a semi-automatic weapon, and quickly fired a shot through his head. She silently directed her team in down different corridors, she and a few more continued to run straight on. She kicked through one door that had been locked from the inside, efficiently taking out a terrorist. The parents lay dead, but three children cowered by the wall, stained with blood and plaster from when bullets had struck the walls. She looked at them.

"להישאר. להסתיר," she told them, and the eldest managed to nod and drag his siblings into the next room.

The others were already going through nearby rooms, so she continued to run. Most of the lights were destroyed, but enough still worked to give the place an eerie dim glow. After a while, she'd discovered, chaos becomes one of those things you just deal with. Her mind automatically switched to a different state, where she aimed and killed when she saw a threat like a knee-jerk reaction. She felt like she'd been in this place forever, in reality, it had probably only been a few minutes. And she continued on autopilot. She didn't know how many she killed, she didn't know how many she saved. She saw Kaniel up ahead, he whipped around the corner into a different passage and he fell. She sped up from her steady run to a sprint and was soon by his side. One look told her he was already dead. She chased down after his invisible killer, but the only sign she got was the noise of a car screeching out onto the road. She ran back into the building, autopilot off, taking the same actions as before, just now fueled by burning rage. The gunfire soon died down, and ambulances and more Mossad began to arrive.

"Ziva?"

She was aware of her name being said, and turned around. A phone was held out to her.

"Director David for you."

She took the phone, flipped it shut, and turned back to kneel by her friend's body.

This one's actually longer than it looks. A miracle. Please review.