A/N: This took a while to write because I just couldn't concentrate, and my mind pulled me in so many directions. Hope you enjoyed!

The ride down to the evidence garage was filled with a lot of inner monologue.

It made no sense for her to send them both a text, decide to go home, and not tell them. Even if she was wasted, which she wouldn't have been because of work the next day, she would've called. But this note, this changed everything. It wasn't just a case of her being late, as she'd originally thought. You deserve nothing. She'd been taken. What did it mean? No matter how many times she read it, it didn't become any clearer. Encased in the evidence bag, it felt so much heavier than it was.

"Director."

She turned towards the voice to see Ziva stepping off the elevator. It wasn't like her to not hear the elevator, but right now, with her thoughts on Abby, she should've expected to be easily spooked. She was anxious, afraid. Despite the situation, she found herself smiling softly, "Ziva."

"You're worried, yes?"

She set the note down, considered lying, "A bit."

"You should see Gibbs."

In her mind's eye, she could. Pacing, anxious, barking out orders, "What brings you down here, Ziva?"

"I was told to bring the evidence up to our temporary scientist."

"I'll leave you to it, then. I have a meeting soon." She started towards the elevator, and Ziva reached out, grabbed her arm gently.

"We will find her, Jenny."

Right now, she hated how perceptive Ziva was, like she knew exactly what the true nature of their relationship with Abby was.

She wet her lips, forced her voice not to shake, "I know."

The elevator doors shut behind her, and her hand shook as she hit the button to take her to the third floor. Here, in private, she could allow her walls to drop, her worry to grow. The note was too personal for it to be for Abby. Which meant it was for someone else. But who?

"My name is Svetlana Chernitskaya. And you, Dr. Sciuto, are my hostage."

"Hostage?"

The girl really was gorgeous, pale skin, tattoos, stunning green eyes. She smirked, moved to stand beside the bed, "It means you'll be here for a while."

She was sure a million questions were running through her mind, but only one came out, "Why?"

"Because they took someone from me, so I'll take you from them."

"What are you talking about?"

No, this wouldn't do. She needed to fully comprehend why she was there, "I see you're still tired, so I'll leave you to sleep awhile longer, Doctor."

She heard the bed creak as her captive tried to move, but she knew the drug was too strong. There wouldn't be any need to worry about her escaping. The wooden door closed behind her with a dull thunk.

Soon, you'll be avenged, my beloved.

She wasn't sure what time it was when the sound of footsteps woke her. She glimpsed outside to see that the sun had changed position, but it could've been anywhere between ten a.m. and five p.m. The door opened slowly, and one of the men looked her over as he stepped into the room, holding a bowl of something that smelled really good.

"Lunch," he said, placing it down on the bedside table.

He gave her one last look before leaving, shutting the door behind him, loud in the otherwise quiet room. She peered into the bowl to see tomato soup. She was hungry, but she knew better than to eat it. It could be laced with drugs, and considering how she was brought here, it probably was. Her stomach growled in protest, but she ignored it. Eventually, she wouldn't be able to avoid eating, but for now, she would be fine.

He sat in his chair, trying to make sense of it all. Who would want to take Abby? His heart was aching for her. And that note stumped him. You deserve nothing. Why? Abby was a pacifist. She wouldn't hurt anyone. The team had gone through her phone records, her credit card history, everything they could think of, but they'd come up with nothing. Even checking in on Mikel Mawher and Charles Sterling, they'd found the men were still incarcerated and hadn't had any visitors. It was frustrating.

"Jethro." He looks up at Jen's voice to find her standing in front of his desk.

"Jen."

"Lost in thought," it's a statement more than a question, but he answered it anyway.

"Trying to make sense of it," He stood, grabbing his gun and shield, slipping on his jacket.

"Where's your team?"

"Getting dinner. Come on, let's get coffee." He escorted her to the elevator, his hand low on her back. She relaxed into him, a sign that she was stressed. All Director on the outside, but still, a worried girlfriend on the inside, "We'll get her back, Jen."

"I know."

They stopped at the diner for a bite to eat and coffee, getting takeout to eat back at the office. They didn't really talk much on the way back, settling into her office instead of going back to his desk. She knew he didn't have much of an appetite. The worry, not knowing anything, was getting to him. But she knew they had to eat. They had to keep focused. If they didn't, they'd be no use to Abby. For a while, they sat in silence, but it came up eventually.

"If it's not someone Abby helped put away…" she started.

Jethro sighed, "It's something more personal."

They were missing something, something important. But she had no idea what. By ten pm, she'd already sent Cynthia home and he'd been up in her office a few times to update her. When he walked in and sat on her couch at a quarter 'til midnight, she figured something was wrong. But he only leaned back against the couch, throwing a hand over his eyes.

"Sent the team home."

"What about you?"

"Just gonna rest my eyes for a couple minutes."

She didn't reply, opening her email.

Her skin was paler than normal, green eyes lifeless. He wanted this to be a sick joke, but he knew underneath the sheet was the Y-incision, could see the way Ducky had worked to hide the bullet wound, and he knew – he knew – she wasn't there anymore. He stroked her hair gently, trying to take in every detail. How could he have let this happen?

He turned, intending to leave Autopsy, but she grabbed his wrist roughly, her eyes catching his.

"Why didn't you save me, Gibbs?"

He woke with a start, Abby's name on his lips. He bit it back, running a hand over his face as he sat up. The light from Jen's desk lamp shined over the room, the redhead sitting at her desk, her face a mask of concentration, typing away.

"What time is it?"

She didn't look at him, focused on the screen, "Early. 4, 5. You've only been a sleep a few hours."

He got up, moved to peer over her shoulder, "What are you working on?"

"I found a contact who can help. I'm emailing them."

Over a dozen emails between Jen and the contact, but it was hard to read. Jen wordlessly offered her glasses, "Our victim was an arms dealer?"

"Looks like a hired gun."

"The fingerprints aren't done running yet." Abby would've already gotten them.

"My contact has him meeting with three other men. Looks like they were working for the same woman."

"Coincidence," he replied.

"Paris, '99," she met his gaze, realization dawning, "Those two arms dealers."

Jen pulled up the two files on her TV. One, a man, dark hair, cold eyes, a red X through his face, "Anatoly Zhukov." The other a woman, blonde, blue eyes, "Svetlana Chernitskaya. She escaped, right?"

"A moment of weakness. I couldn't – " she bit back a sigh, "If she's alive, she might be living under an alias. But why?"

He frowned, thinking.

You deserve nothing.

"The note was for us. This is revenge."

It was just a theory, and until they got the report back from the temporary scientist, they couldn't corroborate it, but if this woman did have Abby, then they needed to get her back soon. They returned to NCIS 30 minutes after they left, fresh clothes on and cups of coffee. Instead of going back to her office, however, they worked at his desk, trying to come up with possible theories. How would Svetlana know they were together, and more importantly, what was her alias?

By 0700, Ziva was making her way in. They quickly put her to work, having her get in contact with Mossad to see if they had any leads. By 0730, Kate was in, and she worked on getting the victim's file. When Tim got in at 0800, he headed down to the lab to analyze the surveillance cameras and help with anything the temp needed. Tony, arriving with him, took the elevator to see if Ducky had anything. God, he hoped Ducky had something. Anything to tie Svetlana to this. Otherwise, they were looking at this from the wrong angle. He headed out for coffee, and when he got back, he saw that they had a new visitor. He frowned, handing the extra cup to Jen.

"Decker."

"Gibbs." The man looks battered but otherwise unharmed.

"Thought you retired."

"I did." He looked at the picture of the victim on the screen, turning back to them, "Any place we can talk?"

They go up to Jen's office, and his gut is churning. This wasn't good news.

"What happened?" Jen questioned.

Decker looked at them, frowning, "My ex-girlfriend was in contact with your dead guy."

A/N: Please don't forget to review! Thanks!