A/N: I feel bad about how little I update. But I seem to only get a few paragraphs done a day, what with band and school and UGH. My brother is even using NCIS to annoy me - my family almost never watches TV live, we tape a bunch of NCIS's and watch them when we have time. Lately my brother has decided to start about ten different ones and leave them in the middle, then yell at me when I watch the whole thing and it's not 'right where he stopped it'. But I saw some good ones yesterday - SWAK, which I've been waiting to see, and I saw Twilight again. And I rewatched Dead Man Walking today, which is one of my favorites. Anyways, because you don't care about this, here is my next chapter. Which I feel is not very good at ALL...
Please tell me if you think it is. Because I feel like a cruddy writer today, what with how vulnerable and out-of-character I made Ziva.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Ziva stiffened automatically as she heard the creak of the door behind her. The same two men from before came around to stand in front of her, once again keeping near the walls and away from her. The same man who had spoken before opened his mouth.
"Miss Todd, we have a reliable source telling us you are Catholic. Why, then, do you wear a Star of David necklace as your only symbol of religion?"
Ziva opened her mouth quickly to tell them she was most definitely not Catholic, then shut it as she realized she was not Ziva David, but Kate Todd. And she knew for a fact that Kate had been Catholic.
Her brain working furiously, Ziva opened her mouth once again. "With a Jewish mother and a Catholic father, my family was not very religious. I do believe in God, but I have never been sure what else. This necklace was a gift from my mother just before she died. It reminds me of her."
Before she could say anything else, the man she'd never heard speak darted forward and slapped her hard across the cheek. Her head snapped to the side, adding to the pain she still felt from the nasty bump on the back of her head. The man stepped behind her and tied her hands behind her back, then untied her from the chair. Dragging her, as her legs were weak from inactivity, he took her out into the hallway and pushed her into the bathroom. Staggering to the sink, Ziva managed to turn it on and stuck her head under the faucet. The water was warm, but it was wet – heaven. She finished in the bathroom but didn't open the door.
Sinking down to the floor, Ziva rested her head on her knees. Overwhelming was the only word she could think to describe this.
The steady clicking from McGee's computer stopped. "Tony," he said. No response came from the senior agent, who was actually doing something on his computer for once. "Tony!"
"What?!?" he asked, his head snapping from side to side, "is this important, Probie?"
McGee nearly lost his nerve, but he nodded. "I think these people may be from Kate's life before NCIS – when she was with the Secret Service. We haven't found any cases that seem to have her stand out from all the rest of us, where they would only attack her."
Tony's head tilted slightly as he thought about it. "But why would someone have a grudge against a Secret Service agent? They are only there to protect the President."
McGee nodded. "I know, but that really isn't all they do. Remember how bothered Kate got about counterfeit money? Maybe she broke up some scheme and they want revenge."
Tony's head bobbed forward slowly as he considered this. His phone rang suddenly, startling him out of his concentration. Snatching it, he barked, "Special Agent DiNozzo."
The voice of a worried Abby burst from the other end of the line. "I think I may have found something…" The phone was back in its cradle and Tony was halfway to the elevator before she could finish her sentence.
Abby spun around in her chair as the sliding glass door to her lab opened. Tony stalked in, seeming more Gibbs-like than ever – no jokes, no nothing, just business. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him, trying to convey the pain she felt and knew he felt. He didn't hug back for a minute, then awkwardly wrapped his arms around the scientist and patted her gently on the back.
Letting go, Abby turned back to her computer. "I was running the prints I got from that note they left on her coffee table. There were three sets – one was Ziva's, I don't know how they got there. The other two may be from the writer and the person who put it in her house, I'm not sure. But one of those prints – gave me matches."
"To who, Abby?" Tony asked, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. She clicked a button on her keyboard and the results on her computer popped up on the plasma.
"A guy who was in for counterfeiting money, got out on parole about a month ago. His name is…John Rollins. Not a big guy, probably the one sent to do the grunt work. But…the address listed on his parole form isn't real." She clicked another few buttons and the picture on the plasma changed.
"But this is the guy we have to worry about. He used to work with Kate as part of the Secret Service. He was fired when they found out he was moving counterfeit money into the monetary system. Now, he's wanted on numerous counts of embezzlement, grand larceny, forgery, and some other stuff. The problem? He's never been found. Once someone realizes they've got him, he's gone. Like, poof, disappear, he never existed."
Tony's fingers stopped drumming. "And he was there?"
Abby nodded slowly. "Either there or had something to do with it. Probably wasn't there, he wouldn't have grabbed Ziva because he knew Kate. But his fingerprints were on that note." She took her fingers away from the keyboard and turned toward him. "We'll find her, Tony."
Ziva tried to jump to her feet as the door started to open, but her time without food and activity (and her bound wrists) pulled her back and made it a slow climb. She still had enough time, however, swipe a leg around the ankles of the man opening the door and pull him to the ground. Stumbling out the doorway, she caught her balance and ran as flat-out as she could towards the end of the hallway.
Suddenly she was lying on the floor, as the other man popped into the hallway and pushed her down. Before she could stand up, he was tying her feet together as well. "Apparently we can't take any chances," he grunted as he roughly picked her up and carried her back to the room she'd been in before. Dropping her on the floor, he didn't even bother to set her back in the chair or untie her bonds. Slamming the door behind them, the two men disappeared once again. Ziva tried to curl into the fetal position that had once given her so much comfort, but the rope holding her arms behind her back made it nearly impossible. She stretched back out, still lying on her side. As the slight sunlight streaming through the window disappeared, slight, silent tears streaked down Ziva's face. She had no idea what was happening, why they'd grabbed her, or anything – it could crush someone else. But not her. She wouldn't let it.
Her cracked lips moved softly as she prayed once again, the familiar Hebrew words tasting like honey in her mouth. They only became sweeter when she thought about Tony's broken, simplistic Hebrew sentences the few times he'd used her native language. His image popped unbidden into her head once again.
"I never thought I'd see you cry."
"Can you imagine what is going on right now?"
"No, I can't. But still, the steely-eyed killer, crying. Do you see my predicament?"
"I do. But it is not such a predicament. I have seen you be sweet before, especially to women, even when you are the one who treats them like objects."
"Ooh, Zi, that was low."
"It was very true."
"Was not."
"Was too!"
Ziva smiled through her silent tears as she thought of the stupid conversations they could have. And of how much she missed them. And Tony in general.
Closing her eyes, she sighed. What was all this introspection doing to her?
A/N2: Here's the fourth chapter! I think it was a bit longer than the others...not sure. But anyways, please review! This chapter was so bothersome to me, because it felt like it didn't fit at all.