The next morning, or later that night in Gibbs' case, he dropped his tools and checked the clock one last time. He was agitating to get going, to start the day and see

what was going to happen, which questions would be answered and which new ones would arise. And most importantly see Ziva again and do anything and everything

he could to make it up for his absence. She had needed him and her team and they had just left her behind. He drained his glass and settled back down on his chair, in

another half an hour he could start getting ready for work; he couldn't appear early no matter how much he wanted to get started ASAP since it may arouse Vance's

suspicions. He pulled a folder across the worktop towards him and flipped it open, running his eyes over it for the hundredth time, reading through the file Kort had

given him working his brain over every possible theory, but nothing seemed plausible.

Two hours later Gibbs arrived at his desk, bang on time, and quietly began shifting through some papers on his desk. A few moments later McGee came casually

strolling in with his jacket slung over his shoulder. When he saw Gibbs he straightened up,

"Morning Boss." he called out across the ball pen, Gibbs glanced up and nodded a greeting before returning to his faux paper work. McGee sat down and opened up his

e-mails; he could only access his NCIS emails on site and so it had become a ritual for him to open his emails first thing, before he had even put down his bag or finished

his coffee, just in case Ziva had been in touch. But today was no different from any of the many, many, many that had gone before it, the only emails were circulars from

security about keeping your badge visible in the building. He understood that she needed some time after what had happened but what had he done? What had Abby

and Ducky done to make her abandon them so completely? He sighed and leant back in his chair, Gibbs seemed kind of strange, well not strange exactly but he

appeared to have an avid interest in the lift. Every time it pinged he watched it open, as though looking out for someone's arrival. McGee glanced at his watch, it was

ten past seven; Tony was late, only slightly but late none the less. He closed his emails and pulled out the reports he had finished last night, giving them one final proof

read before handing them in, tapping his pen on his desk he looked at Gibbs once again. He was often uncomfortable when alone with Gibbs, should he try and fill the

silence or would that just irritate him? Probably it would irritate him, he wasn't one for chat. Although at the moment Tony wasn't exactly full of sparkling wit and

scintillating conversation-he didn't even tease him or make up annoying nicknames anymore he just moped about most days, quietly sulking in a corner or otherwise he

was downright grumpy, aggressive and rude. And then after work he was drunk. He rested his head on his hands and, he missed Ziva, he missed her and everything

she brought with her-like the old happy, cheerful, unbelievably annoying Tony. At least it wasn't boring when those two were around; winding each other up, laughing,

flirting their relationship had made the office feel like home, like they were a family rather than just colleagues. They had been the centre of the team and without it

there was nothing to keep their little family from disintegrating completely. The lift opened and this time Tony did emerge, looking the same as he had for weeks,

haggard, drawn and exhausted. The bags under his eyes were big and dark while the wrinkles in his forehead had deepened from the almost constant forlorn

expression he wore. He dropped into his chair and groaned, obviously hung-over, McGee often worried about what was happening to Tony-he was declining fast, he

knew it was only a matter of time until Tony began drinking during the day to and then what? He would lose his job for sure and what else did he have? Wasn't close to

his family, had no back up options would he just sit and drink himself to death-dwelling on the misery his own actions had brought about? McGee could picture it now,

Tony sitting alone in a squalid, dingy room surrounded by empty whisky bottles, possibly bearded . . . Tim shook his head, that would never happen, he wouldn't let it,

neither would Abby or Ducky and certainly not Gibbs. But then again, it was clear that Tony was sliding down a steep slope and every time anyone mentioned it he got

defensive and they backed down immediately, not wanting to upset him further, so where should they draw the line? When should they say enough's enough and

make him get help? Would he realise himself or would they have to stage an intervention? McGee found these kinds of depressing thoughts were sneaking over him

more and more regularly the longer Ziva was gone, if she were here she be kicking Tony's ass back into shape. Mind you, if she were here there wouldn't be a problem.

If she ever came back she would fix it, everything would be fine. No, not if, when, when Ziva gets back she will fix Tony and then possibly kick his own ass for letting

it get this bad. That is what will happen. McGee finished his internal pep talk and turned his head away from Tony, trying to concentrate n his work, pushing the

fact that Tony was perhaps a part of the reason she had refused to come back home to the back of his mind.

Five minutes later Gibbs' phone rang, he picked it up, grunted something unintelligible and then stood up, "DiNozzo, with me," he started towards the stairs as Tony struggled to his feet and followed, leaving McGee alone at his desk.

They marched into Vance's office, the director was looking out of the window, his back turned towards them. He said nothing for a few moments but then slowly spun around to face them,

"Morning Gibbs, DiNozzo," He nodded at each of them, "I had a phone call last night, from Mossad," Tony's head shot up,

"Ziva?" Vance ignored him and continued

"Seems Director David wishes to speak with you again," Tony furrowed his brows,

"Why?"

"He says he wants to investigate the Rivkin incident further, some new information has come to . . ."

"Oh come on Leon, you're not sending us back again? For this? It's over!" Gibbs interrupted him,

"I thought so too Gibbs but he asked nicely, an invite more than an order, for the moment, so I see no reason to refuse, to do so would jeopardise our friendly relationship with the Israelis." he raised his eyebrow, waiting for a response,

"So your good friend Eli asks for two of your people and you just hand them over, no questions asked?" Gibbs demanded, Vance twirled his tooth pick around in his mouth,

"I have been assured that it is only a few formalities, usually I would have accompanied you but I there's a conference on homeland security, all the heads of

armed agencies must attend there is no way I can accompany you." he paused and examined the two men's' faces, "Which could seem quite convenient, were he

wanting to set up a private meeting with you two." Tony's face adopted an even more confused expression while Gibbs remained passive,

"Why would we want to meet that bast . . ." Tony started before Gibbs interjected,

"What are you saying Leon? What do you think is going on?" Vance stared at them intensely for a few seconds before suddenly smiling,

"Nothing, I'm not saying anything, your escorts will arrive in about five minutes." He turned back towards his desk and sat down, "See you when you get back."