To my dearest Tony,

I miss you more and more each day. I know it has been barely two months since you left but I feel as though I have been missing you for years. Please take care of yourself while you are gone. Abby would be devastated if anything were to happen to you.

She has been talking about you every day, non-stop – almost. She has even put the calendar back up, you know, the one with your face, and she counts the days that you've been gone. 49 days…

McGee has been doing his best to fill your shoes as senior field agent. But for some reason, he struggles to be as mean and annoying as you could.

We all miss you so much. Please come back soon.

Forever and always,
Ziva.

The bullpen was practically empty, as usual this early in the morning. Gibbs was here, but McGee probably wouldn't arrive for another thirty minutes or so, which gave me plenty of time to write to Tony.

I do not understand why it was so difficult for me to reply to Tony's postcards. It felt like whatever I said, it was not good enough. I either sounded too needy, or as though I did not miss him at all. All I want to do is tell him I love him, and am thinking of him, without sounding like a teenage girl who hasn't seen her footballer crush in an hour.

I had one phone call from Tony, about a week ago. We did not get to talk for very long but I had enjoyed our conversation nevertheless. He told me Abby had been sending him postcards in bundles and how they made him laugh. He said they made him miss home, but appreciate being away at the same time.

I just want him here.

But I am glad he is enjoying himself. I knew he had liked his last agent afloat assignment more than he had said. This is a great opportunity for him, and I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

"Good morning Ziva. How was your weekend?" McGee asked, rather chirpy as he walked over to his desk, sitting down and peering over his computer screen in my direction, waiting for my response.

"It was good, thank you McGee. How was yours? You had a date, yes?"

"I wouldn't call it a date… but I did have company. And we had a very… good night."

"Why the hesitation?" curiosity filled my mind.

"Well, it just isn't really what Tony would class as a good night, if you know what I mean. It was nothing like… that. It was just… an old friend, catching up, getting things back to how they should be. I found it to be very rewarding." His smile could light up the entire room at this moment. It was as if nothing could ruin this day for him. It made a nice change.

"I'm happy for you, Tim."

"Thanks." He flashed an even bigger smile that I couldn't help but match with my own.

McGee got straight to work after that, which gave me time to get back to what I was doing, writing to Tony. But the words still weren't coming to me. Maybe I should just send my 'teenage girl' letter. It's the best I've got so far. And I'm sure he would appreciate anything really, as long as he had heard from me. I fold it up, slip it into an envelope and write the postal address on it, then slip it into the pocket of my jacket, hanging over my chair behind me.

Most of the day was just running accounts and getting background information for the case we were working at the moment, a marine found in an alley, shot through the head, gun in hand. Nothing was showing, really, so it was a pretty slow day. Abby had no luck with ballistics or any other physical evidence, and Palmer found nothing useful on the body during autopsy. It was discovered that the marine had died of a heart attack several hours before he was shot, yet the trajectory of the bullet suggests that it was, indeed, suicide. Nothing was adding up at all, and Gibbs was getting frustrated. By evening, we still had nothing. McGee and I were preparing for an all-nighter: Chinese take-out, extra-large coffees and files moved to the floor, where we could spread everything out to see easier.

"You know what we need now?" McGee asked in between scoops of fried rice.

"One of Tony's bizarre movie theories?" McGee nodded. "Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing all day."

The room went back to silence as we browsed through emails, bank account and phone records for the sixth time tonight. A few minutes had passed when McGee spoke again.

"Do you think we could set up a video call to him?"

"McGee, it's almost 11pm!"

"Who cares? He'll be awake, he always is. I'll set it up on my computer." He stood up and walked toward his computer. Within seconds, the call was up on the monitor, just waiting for someone to answer. Once we got a hold of Tony we explained the case to him. He suggested a few scenarios, but none were credible.

"So pretty much, someone stole a dead body, and staged a suicide?" he questioned.

"Yes." McGee and I replied in unison.

"Why stage the suicide if they didn't murder the marine?"

"That is what we are trying to figure out, Tony." I couldn't break eye contact. I was seeing him for the first time in weeks. I didn't realize how difficult this would be, how much I would miss him.

"Maybe someone thought they had killed him?" he suggested.

"How?"

"I don't know McGee, why don't you start coming up with some ideas." Tony joked, "This isn't even my case and I'm doing all the work!"

"You've barely done anything, we've been talking to you for," McGee looked at his watch "nineteen minutes."

"Best nineteen minutes of your night, though, isn't it McGeek."

McGee just rolled his eyes and walked back to our pile of files, beginning to go through them all again.

"Hey baby." Tony's whisper came through the speaker. I very much disliked it when he called me baby in front of other people, but I couldn't help but smile when I heard it.

"Hello Tony."

"How have you been? Long time no talk."

"Yeah, sorry about that. It has been difficult finding time to call you between when I'm at work, and when you are on duty. But I have been good. You?"

"Yeah, I've been alright. Getting used to the whole… water thing. No more seasickness for me, no sir! How is our baby doing?"

McGee's head shot up and Tony burst into laughter.

"Just joking McGoo." He continued to laugh and McGee shook his head, going back to the files. "Anyways, I have to go get some shut eye. I'll talk you again soon. Love you."

"Love you too. Goodnight." And with that, the signal shut off and I went back to work.