I don't own.

Okay, I have this thing. When I sprain my ankle, I always have the people in my brain limping to, and there for I expect everyone else in the world to limp also. And now I'm in a wheelchair for a while with two broken feet, and the people in my mind can't walk either. So if the people in this story aren't walking very much, that would be why.

Also, I'm only writing these notes in bold to put off writing the actual story, since I don't know what to write. Oh well. Here I go, but it might be shorter.

Ziva was cleaning her gun.

It calmed her down, she had once told Tony. When they were undercover as a married couple. Married assassins, but married all the same. It was... interesting. Enjoyable, in a strange, probably twisted, way.

Gibbs had a rule. Number twelve, never date a co-worker.

Did she even work for him anymore? Did Tony?

It had stopped her from even thinking of Tony in that light. Sure, a thought or two had slipped through her walls, throwing her off balance. This was exactly why it was important she couldn't let them slip through.

She had cared for Michael and that hadn't worked out very well. She didn't know if she could care for someone that way again, when she knew how likely it was they would be shot and killed in her apartment. Or, just shot and killed.

"Who was it?" a voice came from close behind her ear.

She didn't jump, but inside her mind her head hit the ceiling. She turned to see Samantha.

"Hello. What do you mean?" Ziva said curtly.

"Who was it? You cared for someone, but they... died?" her eyes squinted. "Or something like that. I think they died. But you also found something out. Damn. You're hard to read."

Ziva blinked. "You are the one who see's connections between people." She said flatly.

"Yup. You don't like me." She said.

"I have no reason not to like you."

Samantha smiled. "Except that I've been spending time with Tony and that bothers you."

Ziva ground her teeth. Annoying girl. "Tony has the right to spend time with anyone he wants, and as long as this person has no intention of killing or harming him, I do not care who it is."

"Haha! Unless you care for him. Which, don't insult me, you do. I can see it as clearly as the pain would be if I suddenly had the urge to bite you or something." She said.

"Why do you care." She said. Not a question.

"I see too many broken relationships, too many people not acting on their feelings and becoming alone and sad, or with a bunch of cats or something." Samantha shook her head. "Something wonderful could happen with you two. I see it."

Ziva paused, then shook her head. "No. You do not start these things in the middle of a war, or rebellion, or whatever this is. It distracts. We can't afford that."

Samantha sighed.

Line.

"Are you doing as I have instructed you?" Neviah said softly, her small form sitting in a chair, Alan standing next to it, gazing down at her.

"Make them get together? Yeah, I'm trying. But it's not like I can influence how people feel about each other, I can just see it." Samantha said, also softly.

"You must do this. The world depends on this."

Samantha nodded slowly. "Yes, you keep telling me that. But, do you know how exactly it will save the world?" she asked.

Neviah's sightless eyes pointed at Samantha, sunlight shining into them from a window and bleaching the colour out of them even more.

"A child will be the product of the union. And that child will be powerful enough to save the world from what's coming."

Samantha's eyes went wide. "You're having me get them together so they can have a kid?" she asked. "Wait. What's coming?"

Neviah looked scared. Suddenly Samantha remembered that even she was still rather young.

"You don't want to know, Samantha. But you must make sure that this child will be born."

Line.

Adelinde was crying.

It wasn't just that she was wanted as a terrorist, or that she didn't have a single family member left alive, or that she was a mutant freak that would never have a normal life, if she even lived long enough to have one.

She didn't cry much. For pain, sometimes. Physical pain.

But because she felt sad, or whatever? No, not so much. She always just said to herself, 'I'm a bit busy to have a crying fit right now, how about later?' But later usually didn't come.

Now she was crying for every time she had ever put it off, and for Flash. (Haha! Forgot about him? He's the guy that Ziva knew, from the first chapter!) He had been slightly... odd, (he did call himself Flash) but he was the first person that explained her power to her in a way that made sense to her. He had taught her how to use it, had been like a father, or uncle or something. Now, he was dead.

They hadn't had Adusia yet to bring him back, and now he was 'too dead', according to her.

How exactly someone can become 'too' dead was beyond Adelinde, since she couldn't see how someone could become more dead than they were before. If you stab a corpse, all that changes is that the corpse has a hole in it.

She rubbed her eyes. At least she had gotten her revenge on the guy that killed him. Hit him with her force field, which ruptured a blood clot in his brain, causing it to aneurism.

Her power had been too late to protect him, but she liked to think it had stopped others from meeting the same fate.

Line.

Claire felt awkward.

She was sitting against the wall, and Alex and West were sitting in front of her.

"Glad to see you got away safe, Alex." She said.

He smiled. "Yeah. Thanks again for helping me."

West cleared his throat. "Yeah. Who would know Claire was so good at hiding people from the government?" he said.

Claire smiled thinking suddenly of Zach and what he would say about her now. She wasn't just some blond cheerleader concerned about being popular anymore. "It was actually a lot of my mom's doing."

West raised an eyebrow. "Did help?"

Peter came over then. "Mr. Muggels? Who is Mr. Muggels?"

Sylar walked over to the little group. "Mr. Muggels is her mother's dog." He answered.

"How do you know the name of Claire mother's dog?" Peter asked.

"I have a good memory."

Claire shook her head. "What's my brother's name?" she asked.

"... Lucas."

Claire shook her head.

"What is your brother's name?" Peter asked.

"I should probably know his name, but I don't." West said.

Claire giggled.

"... Lance?"

"No, it's not Lance. It's something like, Laurence." West said.

Claire giggled more.

"No, that's not it. Leo? Leroy. Liam..." Peter insisted.

Alex laughed.

Claire laughed. Her uncle, exboyfriend, and a serial killer all trying to figure out her brother name.

She laughed even harder.

Line.

Nathan walked very purposely towards Danko, a piece of paper in his hand.

"You're fired." He said to Danko, and handed him the paper.

Danko didn't look at it. "What the hell for?"

"Well, for one, getting all those agents killed, two, for doing nothing to stop the torture of a person being held under your orders, three, for strapping an freaking bomb to Parkman and pushing him out into a public space, near the god damn white house, and, well, for being terribly annoying and unpleasant." Nathan told him.

Danko glared. He grabbed the piece of paper, looked at it, then looked back at Nathan.

"Well, Senator, I guess I have to be going then. One last question, though. If I was to push you out a window, what would happen?" he asked.

Nathan didn't flinch. "You would be arresting for my murder, and if it was low enough for me to survive, you would be sued for pushing me out a window."

Danko looked at him for a second, then turned and walked out.

Noah came up behind Nathan.

"That was surprisingly easy." He said calmly. "However, just because the government doesn't want to kill these people, doesn't mean he won't."

Nathan nodded. "But it'll be a lot easier to stop him without homeland security behind him."

Noah paused. "Let's hope."