January 8th, 2009

Tony and Ziva walked cautiously through the hollow warehouse, their footsteps resounding of the walls. They were undercover, pretending to be drug dealers in order to lure out three of the NCIS's most wanted criminals.

"Hello again, Luciano, Jezebel," greeted Jules Guillaume, their undercover names reminding them what they were here for.

Then he frowned, paused the smirked, evil glinting in his eyes, "Or should I say Special Agents DiNozzo and David? Yes, I know all about your under cover mission. If I were you, I would run. Quickly." He laughed mischievously.

All around the agents were guards preventing them from leaving.

"Au revoir en bonne chance!" Said Jules, as he left with Moises and Remi trailing behind him, displaying a bomb, complete with three blocks for C4.

Tony looked around, no where to run, no where to hide. Then he saw Ziva, running to the bomb, prepared to disarm it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Boom.

After the bomb exploded, Tony looked for Ziva, but all he saw was jacket she was wearing and one of her shoes strewn across various places.

And for once, Anthony DiNozzo cried, for it was his fault she was dead, and his fault he couldn't protect her.

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January 21st, 2010, 6:45 am

One year, thirteen days. 378 days. 12 months, thirteen days.

That's how long Ziva David had been dead.

No one could truthfully say that Tony was the same as he had been before Ziva's departure.

"Gear up," order Gibbs as he strolled through the bullpen

"We have a case boss?" He asked tiredly.

"Nope, but we have a tip. Unless, you'd like to do paperwork the entire day?" Retaliated Gibbs.

"No. boss," answered Tony as he slipped in the closing elevator doors.

Once they were in the car, Tony turned to Gibbs.

"So what was the tip about, boss?" asked Tony

"An elderly lady lives next to a mansion, claims that six people live together there, none of them seem to be related to each other. They have come in on and off for the past eleven years. She called us because she remembered it being an old NCIS safe house, on loan from Mossad. She figures something suspicious is up, since safe houses aren't used for anything else after being safe houses."

"Oh," says Tony. He doesn't say anything else until they arrive at the large mansion.

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Tony knocked on the door, expecting to wait for a minute.

He was surprised when an Israeli woman, about twenty-seven years old answered the door.

"Shalom," the woman greeted, "May I help you?"

Tony and Gibbs showed their badges, "NCIS, may we come in?"

The woman squinted, and searched her brain.

'Have I heard of them before?'

"Come in," The woman, let them through, then sat down on the plush couch.

"What can I do for NCIS today?" She asked, the Israeli accent becoming more evident the more she talked.

"We would like you get everyone currently living here to gather together, now. We would like to interview all off you. Just to clear up some things." Gibbs answered, lying about the last part.

"Of course," she answered, "We were just about to have a meeting today."

Gibbs and Tony shared a look.

'A meeting?'

They turned to the woman, but she was on an antique style phone talking to someone.

"Hey, Kelly"

"Hey! I can't believe you're up this early! What do you need?"

"Can you wake everyone up and have them meet me in the meeting room?"

"Sure, thing,"

"Oh, and can you please try get my sister to eat something? She's been depressed for a while. Everyone's tried, but you know how she can be."

"No, problem,"

"Thanks Kells!"

And with that she hung up, and turned back to the agents.