A/N: It was 0130. I was tired. I wrote an essay on 'The Hydrochloric Cycle'. It was meant to be 'Hydrological' but I'd just done my science homework on acids and alkalis. Luckily, I knew what I meant and I still wrote about the water cycle. My geography teacher handed everyone their homework back, then called me to the front of the class. I thought he was going to congratulate me on my essay. He pointed out my mistake to the entire class, who all found it extremely amusing. I only got the title wrong. Unfortunately, I wrote it out by hand, so I now have to rewrite it all. For tomorrow. FML.

Rant over, on with the show!

Disclaimer: [Insert really boring disclaimer that nobody really reads or pays any attention to, but you still have to type it our every time for legal reasons, when really they don't mean it and know we all don't own NCIS, but have fun watching annoyed people like me have to type it out every chapter here.]

Chapter 10: The Rescue, Part I

The silence spoke volumes in the tiny room. The couch was occupied by Tony and Ziva; the bed by Abby, McGee and Gibbs. Harper and his men had left for the time being, with promises to return promptly to kill Ziva. It was time to say goodbye, but the words were too painful to speak.

Abby had tears streaming down her face, refusing to believe that Ziva was going to die. McGee sat with Abby positioned in his arms, whispering pointless words of comfort into her hair, which he didn't believe. How was 'everything going to be alright' without Ziva. Gibbs sat staring at the wall, in a world of his own, and seemingly oblivious to the conversation between Tony and Ziva.

"He can't kill you. He just can't," Tony said, shaking his head vigorously.

"Tony, there is nothing we can do, now. It is too late. My time is down."

Tony chuckled, humourlessly. "Your time is up, Zee, not down. And it's not. No way."

"There is no other option. Harper is going to kill me. We are powerless here."

"How can you be so calm?" he asked, incredulously. "You've been told that you're going to die in the next hour! How do you really feel?"

"I'm fine, Tony. I have faced death so many times before. What makes this any different?" One look was all it took to shatter her cool shell. "Okay, I'm scared. I'm not ready to die. I… I don't want to leave."

With that, the tears fell. Once again, she was brought closer into her partner's body, and he held her close. Her tears mixed with his, as they both mourned a life that hadn't ended yet. They shook with suppressed sobs, neither one wanting to be left alone, in the world that existed, or the world of fiction.

A sharp slap to the back of the head had them both whirling around to look at their boss, who looked pissed. "Oi!" he snapped. "Why are you crying? All four of you? She's not dead, so stop acting like she is. Ziva, you are not going to die today. Not on my watch."

Abby opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and pursed her lips. The five sat in silence for a moment, until the unmistakeable sounds of an argument drifted through the walls. It sounded like Harper was arguing with his men. The signature clicks of the door sounded, and it swung open, revealing three fuming men. Harper spoke first.

"I was going to take great pleasure in slowly killing Miss David here, but I am now having to make other arrangements. It seems that your damn agency have figured out that you're here. We are surrounded. What to do, what to do?" he said angrily. And sure enough, if they strained their ear, they could hear a chopper in the sky. Though taught never to assume, they guessed that they were heavily surrounded.

Seth turned to Harper and whispered in his ear. Harper's face lit up sinisterly, and an evil glint of excitement flashed in his eyes.

"Good idea, Seth," he said happily. "Now James, where's the vodka? I know I was saving it for celebration, but this is far more important."

James ran into another room and came back with a bottle of vodka and a confused expression on his face. Harper was quick to elaborate.

"I suppose you're wondering what I've got planned for you? Well thanks to your lovely little friends at the FBI, we're now surrounded. I'll never make it out alive. So, I'm going to start a fire to cause a major distraction. Then, you'll all die anyway, and I'll get out and be free. It's a win-win! Have fun in Hell!"

He unscrewed the cap to the bottle, and poured the contents over the room, coating every available surface in the clear liquid. The team knew that the combination of wooden furniture and accelerant would have the place going up in seconds. Taking advantage of their shocked state, Harper roughly grabbed Ziva by the arm, and dragged her over to the desk. He produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and chained Ziva's arm to the leg. He then strode back over to the door and took a small box from James.

Taking a match from said box, he scraped it along the side, and a tiny flame appeared. A tiny flame, which could do so much damage. If their lives were some TV show at that point, it would probably have transformed into slow-motion. But, as it was reality that they were in, everything seemed to speed up instead, as the flame hit the alcohol-coated carpet. Upon meeting the accelerant, the flame grew and grew, until it roared like a lion.

By that point, Seth, James and Harper had left the room, bolting the door behind them. The fire provided an indestructible barrier between the team and safety. Plus, Ziva was still attached to a desk, and no matter how hard Tony tried to shift it, she was stuck there.

Huge dragons of fire danced menacingly towards them. Finally, Tony and McGee managed to slip the handcuffs off Ziva, and the five sprinted towards the door, only to be met with huge barriers of heat. Luckily, there was a gap towards the edge of the room, so they hurried towards it, the fine line between life and death they were treading on making their legs work faster and their hearts beat stronger.

Abby, who was first in line, slipped through the door and ran through the hallway without a second glance. As she ran out of the front door, she was met with fire-fighters, paramedics and the FBI with their guns drawn, pointing at her. Shaking uncontrollably, she fell to the floor, sinking into the soft grass. She turned back and saw the unmistakable outlines of Gibbs, McGee, Tony and Ziva coming out of the house.

Just as Ziva reached the open door, the house decided it'd had enough. Giving out one last mighty groan, the roof collapsed, sliding forward and replacing the image of Ziva with burning brick. The entire team just stood their, shocked to the point of immobilisation, but Tony's pained cry echoed for miles.

"ZIVA!"

A/N#2: This is becoming very Ziva-centric, isn't it? Right, before I die a slow painful death from anybody who's still reading this (yeah, it's been a while), I'll get the next chapter up ASAP, and not just 'Oh, I'm tired now; I'll do it tomorrow' ASAP, I mean proper 'GET YOUR ASS MOVING AND WRITE THE NEXT CHAPTER NOW!' ASAP. If you are still reading, I'd love to hear from you (hint, hint!). XD