A/N: Hello everybody, thought you might like an update. This chapter's styling is a little different to what I've done before, but fingers triple-crossed you like it. I've actually sat on this one for a while, tweaking away at it until I was satisfied; this was somewhat stylistically difficult to write.

Please review, it makes it so much nicer writing the next chapter. All you devoted readers have been absolute angels.

I don't own anything, but I did get Season 3 for Christmas which made me very happy. :)

xx

It's not Lila.

But in his mind, the newest four-year-old girl, burned and scarred, who Ducky zips into a teddy-sized body bag is not that different either.

She picks his lock against her better judgment that night, and finds him staring mutely at the wall. She puts her coat in the closet and her shoes by the door, peels off her socks and gloves and crosses the carpet to sit on the barstool on her side of the counter. Unarmed with a casserole, there is no food to start a conversation with, so she instead watches the back of his head over the green suede of the couch, as he examines the light blue walls with apparent indifference.

He can't reasonably explain it, but he imagines her speaking behind him; asking if he's okay, slotting in a movie, pouring merlot into the crystal glasses his sister gave him for Christmas. In his head these things are meant well but do not ease his unspeakable numbness, confusion, so he sits silently as she shifts on the barstool with the wonky leg, willing her to leave. When she does speak, it's not aimed at him, but at Luigi's Pizzas, who promise an extra large meat 'n' cheese lovers' in thirty minutes, timed from the moment she hangs up.

So they sit. And they wait for whatever comes next.

There is a connection between the two murders, but no apparent link to the abduction. They are all thinking this, but Gibbs insists on treating the three cases as one and the same. Both children were burnt with a petroleum-based compound which Abby identifies as the same, and both were bludgeoned to death by an object which has left a perfect indentation in each tiny skull. For the first time in many years, Tony honestly feels as though he will be sick as Ducky pulls charcoal skin away from the pale bones of their faces, to pour a plaster mould into the concave fractures.

Petty Officer MacPherson has a somewhat more stoic persona than Garcia, and answers McGee's questions politely but shakily. It appears his daughter Pira was being dropped off at ballet by her mother the last time anybody saw her. McGee identifies the ballet school as one near the park where both girls have been found, so Gibbs organises himself and Ziva into the car to drive to the ballet school and Tony and McGee out of it, with specific instructions to track down the precise concrete floor upon which Abby believes the bodies were burnt. McGee tries to protest, citing impossibility, but Tony grips his arm and steers him into the building.

He settles behind his desk. He thinks of her. And when he has thought so much it is unclear which her is preoccupying his mind the most, he rolls up his sleeves and gets down to work.

He asked her about Kate, that night with the pizza. Another unspoken rule between them splintered as the words left his lips, and the question hung above them, a dead weight that appeared immovable. He watched as her jaw tightened and she raised her head from watching her finger trace the rim of her wine glass. There was a thick silence; a silence so loud and long that it pierced his eardrums and he visibly flinched under her gaze, almost regretted asking at all.

'She died today.'

Her voice crept out of her lips, as though she was breaking her silence after a long time, and he watched as she raised the glass to the light. He turned to face the wall where the calendar is pinned and instantly felt mortified that he did not notice Kate's deathday. Mortification gave way to guilt, which in turn broke down the barriers of a wound cut fresh. He turned back to her, hoping she didn't notice his red eyes.

'Why do you know that?'

She shifted uncomfortably, and he was once again caught out by her vulnerability. He watched as the impression of her tongue ran around the inside of her cheek, and held his breath when her mouth opened to form an answer.

'Because I'm replaceable.'

And Kate wasn't.

This tacit phrase laced itself intricately with the air, which was suddenly too close for his comfort. The emotions in his mind, grief, anger, confusion, frustration, and the contradicting numbness, suddenly swam through his veins with such force he took an involuntary sharp intake of breath.

She was there before he even said anything. She put her hand against his cheek and looked so intensely into his face that he was sure she could see out the other side of his skull.

'I am sorry, Tony. I truly am.'

She was not apologizing for her own actions. She was sorry for him, but it was not sympathy that shone in her eyes; it more closely resembled empathy.

He wasn't sure why, but in that heartbeat he believed her.

Another brick wall places itself in front of the team; Pira attended ballet school but did not re-emerge, and the teachers went into a staff meeting straight after class and did not witness her leave. There is a moment of revelation, however, when Matilda, Lila's aunt, turns out to be a teacher there. According to Gibbs, she will come in for more questioning later that afternoon.

Tony passes the time by watching Ziva surreptitiously watch him. It amuses him somewhat that she doesn't directly look at him, but glances at the clock or McGee, focusing her peripheral vision on Tony when she thinks he's not watching. Or maybe she does know. He finds it difficult to tell.

Around three, she crows with delight and pulls a McGeek style stunt on the databases. She pulls up Matilda's records, which Tony points out have no dancing qualifications. She cocks an eyebrow at him and pulls up another record, of a Matilda Graham, who, despite dyed hair and an eyebrow ring, is unmistakably Lila's aunt. This incarnation has so many dancing qualifications Tony's head begins to swim. The record, Ziva points out triumphantly, shows Matilda's romantic involvement with a drug ringleader.

Gibbs looks over her appraisingly and claps her on the back, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and barking for McGee and Tony to come and pick Matilda up with him. Ziva smiles smugly behind them as they scramble for their jackets and backpacks.

Tony turns to her as she sits back down behind her desk. He walks slowly over to her, braces his arms against it and leans down into her line of sight.

His eyes never leave hers. 'Whatever would we do without you,' he says, before standing and leaving to follow his boss.