Okay, not much to say about this, except that I would've updated yesterday if my computer hadn't made things difficult. It's a tad (more like way) shorter than the other chapters...hope you don't mind too much.

So, I'm planning on wrapping this story up until school starts again in about 5 weeks. I have no choice but to update more often. Good for you, pressure for me :)

Enjoy the chapter even though it's not particularly filled with fluff and happiness.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. What I DO own is a calender where September 25 is marked in bright red. Yay Season 10!


Chapter 12 - Ziva's Apartment

Pt. II

With a slight bounce to his step he arrives at work fifteen minutes early, dropping a brown bag containing a bagel and a cup of coffee on his co-workers desk with a cheerful „Good morning, Probie!"

McGee doesn't even look up from his computer, but merely raises an eyebrow and states tiredly, "Looks like someone got laid last night."

He grins shamelessly at the younger man and smugly takes a sip of his own coffee.
"Got a problem with that, McVirgin?"

Instead of an answer he gets a dry chuckle followed by continuous typing. Neither talks for a while, but he can't help but get bored during this silence and so he starts to work on several paper balls to attack the Probie. Just as he wants to throw the first one, though McGee turns to face him with a grim expression.

"Don't. Even. Think about it."

He's taken back by his usually good-natured friend's behavior. "What's it with you? Did your goldfish die?"

McGee rubs his eyes and sighs. "I got called back into work at around 4 a.m. this morning, because of some weird error in our security system. I've been looking for anything ever since, but haven't found anything."

He frowns before deciding to throw his paper-ball anyway. It makes a soft 'thump' as it hits his co-workers shoulder.
"Very helpful, Tony."

"Well, I slept like a baby," he says teasingly before taking another sip of coffee.

"Does Ziva know?"

He almost chokes at that question and starts coughing. When he finally gets a hold on himself again he stares at McGee. "Does Ziva know what?"

McGee shrugs. "That you're dating someone else."

"And why exactly would that be of Ziva's interest?" he occupies himself with rearranging the stationary on his desk, avoiding eye contact-

"I thought you two had something going on…."

He laughs nervously. "Yeah. Sure. Me and Ziva."

"I remember a couple of conversations when you were pretty sure that she was 'The One', or am I wrong?" McGee says innocently while taking the bagel out of its bag.

"Oh, you've been watching How I Met Your Mother again, haven't you? I am not like Ted. I'm not after The One or whatever. I prefer to look at myself at Barney."

"Sure," McGee says, doubt evident in his voice.

"You only like that show because their pub is called "McGee's" in real life," he says teasingly, earning an eye-roll from his co-worker.
"And for the record; Ziva and I are just friends," even while he says he keeps thinking of last night and a farm feeling settles in his stomach and in reflex his eyes dart to her desk, which is still unoccupied by his Israeli. He narrows his eyes.

"Talking about Ziva," McGee says, following his stare, "Where is she?"

He's called her twenty-two times by the time his boss pulls up in front of her apartment building, not one call has been. He opens the door and gets out of the car before it even stops moving, immediately falling into a run, his boss on his six.
Just like last night he takes the stairs, only this time it's because the elevator isn't arriving fast enough. Breathing hard he stops at her door, fiddling with her spare key and silently praying that – against all odds – she's just overslept or turned her phone off and got stuck in traffic.

As soon as he opens the door, his hopes are shattered. The place is a mess; her bookshelf has fallen over, the plant got smashed and now dirt is covering most of the light carpet, the kitchen looks like it's been hit by a bomb with broken glass everywhere.
All of this is just in the background for him though. In a second he's drawn his weapon, silently walking around the messed up place and making sure all is clear. At her bedroom door he suddenly hesitates, afraid what he might find if he opens it.

"All clear, DiNozzo?"
His boss' voice startles him. He nods towards the door, raising a finger to his lips. Gibbs nods before signing to enter the room.
"NCIS!" they yell simultaneously. The room is empty.

He double-checks her closet, just to be sure, before sighing and putting his gun back in its holster. Meanwhile Gibbs is already calling for backup.
"Missing NCIS Liaison Officer!" he barks angrily at whoever is on the other end of the line before hanging up.

He's turning over all her pillows and blankets, a small part of him still hoping to find her curled up and safe. Of course his rational side is doing a great job at throwing those hopes out the window.
He stops what he's doing to think for a second.

The window

He walks around the bed and pulls her curtains away. The window is shattered. At least now he knows how that bastard got in.
"Boss, I got something.." he calls out over his shoulder.

"Me too."
He turns around to meet Gibbs' death glare. In his hand his boss holds his tie. And of course Gibbs knows it's not just anyone's tie, not only because he's Gibbs but also because it is the one tie he's bragged about for the better part of a month.
"Care to explain?"

He swallows once. "Uh…"

"I swear DiNozzo, if I didn't need your brain working properly at the moment I would slap you so hard-"
He thanks God –and after this moment he's sure that He exists – when Agent Quentin enters the room before his boss can finish this sentence, followed by his SFA and Kate.

All agents begin the familiar procedure of bagging and tagging all sorts of stuff. Kate keeps sending him questioning glances, but he ignores her as best as he can until she corners him in the kitchen while he's taking crime scene photos.

"What the hell happened?"

"Well, we believe that someone might have kidnapped Ziva," he snaps at her, the sarcasm almost burning his tongue.

"Yeah, that's kinda why I'm here, Tony. I mean what happened with you and Gibbs. He's been looking at you like he wants to rip your head off!"

He chuckles once without humor. "Yeah? Which head? Because I'm not exactly sure if he means the one on my shoulders."

Kate narrows her eyes at him. "Who did you sleep with to make Gibbs-" she cuts herself off, a look of sudden realization on her face. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Tony, I'm so sorry."

He sends her the best fake grin he can manage. "Don't be. The sex was amazing."

She stares at him in utter disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest. "How can you joke about that at a time like this, Tony? You're disgusting."

His grin disappears and he rubs his eyes tiredly. "I have to joke about it. Because if I don't then I just might lose it completely, Kate. I might lose her completely," he explains in a whisper. He doesn't look at her, but suddenly his former partner's arms are around him in a comforting hug.

When she pulls back her expression is determined. "We'll find her."

He cracks a smile for his friend. "'Course we will."

With that he leaves the room, not doubting that they will eventually find his Israeli Queen of Knife-Throwing.
The question is; are they going to find her alive?


To be updated soon :)