"She's probably just busy at work," Fakhir tried to reassure them all as Amelia lifted her phone for the seventh time in nearly as many minutes.

It hadn't even beeped or vibrated with a notification this time. She was starting to imagine things which really wasn't a good sign.

"Or, she has been murdered," Francisca added in an unhelpful dramatic manner.

Everyone gave her a look, varying from exasperated to disturbed.

"Really? That's where your mind goes?" Amelia demanded.

"It is possible!"

"She is a federal agent with a gun. She could technically get shot by a suspect," Fakhir decided to point out.

Well, yes that was true but Amelia would really rather not think of that. The idea of any of her friends dying was not something she wanted to consider. No thank you. She glared at the man so he wouldn't continue with that train of thought.

"No more talk of injuries or death," Amelia said firmly.

She didn't want to tempt fate or anything.

"Speaking of death," Francisca began. "Did you hear about the shooting that happened not far from here? The news is saying that it was done by a foreign intelligence agency."

"Bah," Fakhir waved his hand dismissively. "The news, it always exaggerates such things."

"About a foreign agency?" Francisca asked incredulously.

"About anything," was Fakhir's response. "An American person who looked foreign probably shot someone. The news likes to be dramatic."

"But it tells the truth!" Francisca argued.

Francisca was the type of person who believed everything the news reported on, no matter how farfetched or ridiculous. Amelia didn't even discuss certain events with the woman anymore or she'd just get a pack of lies the news had been spouting. The woman didn't even watch reliable news sources, she liked the gossipy ones, the drama inducing ones. It could be very annoying to listen to. Though, Amelia did appreciate celebrity gossip that Francisca discovered before her.

But back on topic. Ziva. Who was decidedly not here and also not talking to any of them. Just one more check of her phone.

Before she could lift it, Fakhir snatched it away from her.

"Hey!"

That was hers!

"You aren't going to call her again," he said firmly.

"I wasn't going to phone her," she replied quite truthfully.

She had been going to text. Far less disappointing than getting a recorded voice or beeping back. Fakhir gave her a look. A look she didn't appreciate thank you very much. It was a look of complete disbelief. She wasn't lying.

"Or text her," he added for good measure.

Amelia deflated at that, but only briefly.

"I was going to text my husband," she tried.

Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. She needed to know if he was grabbing food for the kids while they were out or if she had to cook something. Or order something in. Probably order something in. She didn't want to start cooking with everyone here. Correction, she didn't want to start cooking with Francisca here. The woman always turned her nose up at the "lack of flavours" in her food. She didn't have a toddler who would only eat dry cereal if she let him.

"Uh huh."

There was that disbelieving tone again. The two of them started at each other, willing the other to give in. Amelia was the first to do so, unfortunately.

"Okay, I was just going to text Ziva."

"Amelia-"

"Only one more time, though."

Fakhir still didn't give her back her phone so Amelia decided to take matters into her own hands. Literally. She tried to snatch her phone back from him but he was quicker. And taller. He was holding it over his head, far out of her reach. Why did men do that?

"Can we start the game," Liu asked, casually watching the drama unfold while nibbling on some nuts.

She had promptly laid claim to the whole bowl of them once she entered the kitchen and no one had felt brave enough to take them away from her. The student was clutching them very tightly to her chest. Best just to leave her to them. There were plenty of other snacks.

"Not until we're all here," Amelia said with a tone of finality and crossing her arms, giving up on retrieving her phone.

They didn't need to be so impatient. Sometimes it took them an age to get started on the game as they are and gossiped and in general had fun talking to each other. Why couldn't they do that today? But no, today everyone came with their game faces on, determined to win.

"Look, she isn't going to show up. Or she's going to be late," Liu said matter-of-factly. "Either way, it is her own fault if she misses a game."

"Just a few more minutes," Amelia cajoled, picking up her phone. "Let me call her one more time."

"I already did that," Francisca reminded her.

"Yes, but I don't think she will understand the shrieking Spanish message you left her," she replied in a dry tone.

The older woman just shrugged and waved her hand dismissively.

"She speaks my language. She will understand."

Amelia gave her a doubtful look, she wasn't too sure what Francisca spewed out was actually words, and dialled Ziva's number. Again. No answer. Again. Not even her voicemail message this time, which was odd. Maybe her battery was dead or something? But surely, she would still call? It was all very suspicious in her opinion and no one else seemed to think so. This was not Ziva-like behaviour, couldn't they see that?

Fakhir's face softened and he gave her a sympathetic look.

"If we do not hear from her at the end of the night we can go round to her house," he suggested.

Another intervention? Amelia didn't know if Ziva would appreciate that. What if she actually was okay? What if she was just really busy like everyone had been saying? What if she was sleeping? Oh, Amelia was having second thoughts about this.

"Come on, I thought you wanted to speak to her," Fakhir said slightly impatiently when Amelia didn't say anything.

"We don't need to go to her house," Amelia replied hesitantly.

It felt like they would be crossing a line doing that. They weren't worried for her mental state or anything like last time.

"I will go to her house" Francisca offered. "Knock down her door."

"Knock on her door," Amelia corrected.

"I meant what I said."