Seven hours in the back of a black SVU could have been fun, if not for the fact that it absolutely sucked. Tony was squashed between two-well fed FBI agents who were assigned to be his "body guards", Special Agents Carl Walters and Frankie Scappionie. In the two front seats, one of Ziva's "body guards", Mike Velinski, drove, while the supervising agent, Evan McCrae, filled the passenger seat. Ziva had the privilege of riding in a nice spacious ambulance as her doctor had deemed her unfit to travel by normal means. She only had to deal with one of Hoover's boys, instead of being surrounded by four. But jealousy was not the proper word to describe his feelings; everything seemed to be evened out somehow.

After being swearing this was the fifth time they had passed that bridge, Tony finally spoke up.

"Where the hell are we going?"

"Sorry." Ugly driver bossman stated with no means of apology, "That's classified information."

"So, you're taking us to a place that we can't know about?" Tony shifted slightly to ease some pressure off his shoulder.

"You will be informed once we have arrived at the designated destination." Fat Carl was also smart, as he spoke with big words.

"How about a little hint? We can play twenty questions…ah!"

Agent Scappionie elbowed Tony hard in his injured arm. Agent Scappionie was now Frankie, the big jerk.

"Sorry Agent Dinozzo. My arm musta slipped." No means of apology were present in the man's voice.

The rest of the ride was in silence, as Tony did not feel like having his arm jarred again.

After what seemed like years, the government issued car finally stopped. The two agents on either side of him excited the car, both slamming their doors behind them.

Nice.

Tony slid over the back seat to the door, where he let himself out. Once he awkwardly climbed out of the SUV one-handed, he was able to examine his surrounding.

A small motel, maybe with eight rooms, stood before him. In back, a road, if you can call it a road, came in from a forest of trees, and left through a forest of trees, no other buildings in sight. Before Tony could contemplate how to escape from this nothingness, a white ambulance appeared out of the trees and pulled up alongside the SUV.

The back doors of the ambulance opened, and before he knew it, a certain Isreali had hopped out and was now hobbling to regain her balance.

"Woah, easy there!" Tony steadied his partner with his good arm, "what's the rush? There's not exactly much out here to run to." He didn' release his steadying grip.

For lack of a better description, Ziva looked pissed.

"I could not take one more second with that 'Special Agent Roger Williams'! If I hear one more reason why the FBI 'triumphs' over all other government agencies, I will have to kill someone!"

Good to know she's feeling better.

"Agent Dayvid!" A tall hairy man stumbled out of the back of the ambulance. "I specifically told you to wait inside the bus while we ran a check security. I also believe you have orders to move around by wheelchair, and by no means are to walk. You know, in the FBI, we learn to follow orders."

Before Ziva could respond, Agent Walters interrupted.

"Williams, security check."

"Yes sir." Williams glared at Ziva as he turned on his heels, to march rather awkwardly towards his four colleagues.

"I am not sure I can take much more of this." She made a fist so tight it cracked her knuckles.

"He's right about one thing. You shouldn't be walking around." He led her to back to the bus, forcing her to sit in its open doors.

Ziva let out a huff. "Tony, I am fine."

"Yeah I'm sure." His eyes did a half roll.

"Tony, really, I am…"

"David! DiNozzo!" McCrae came bounding over the gravel parking lot. When he was standing directly in fron of them, he began his lecture.

"You two will be staying in this room." He pointed to the chipped red-painted door risidingn in the middle of the shed-sized motel and handed Ziva a small rusted key. "Scappionie and Walters are staying in that room," McCrae nodded to the room directly on the right, "Williams and Velinski are staying there," he motioned to the left.

"The two of us will be staying in the same room?" Ziva pulled her arm out of Tony's grip, furrowing her eyebrows at her 'protector'.

"Yes. It's more convenient for my guys to keep tack of you both if you're in the same room. Becomes easier to watch who's coming and going." McCrae's voice was emotionless, facial expression was bored.

What? There were eight rooms and not another building for miles… how much 'easier' and 'convenient' could this be?

"And where will you be staying Mr. FBI Bossman?" Tony's voice was dripping with sarcasm, as he was far from amused that their protective detail was cutting corners. Bad enough there's a protective detail at all, at least do the job right.

"I'm tasked with escorting the ambulance back to Bethesda. I will be back in the morning to make sure everything is running smoothly." He walked away, ending the conversation.

"I do not like this."

Tony looked down at his partner, just noticing her break of contact; a small wave of annoyance swept through him. "Really? I wouldn't have known. I thought you loved our body guards."

Ignoring his tone, Ziva looked him straight in the eyes with a serious expression. "Not the protective detail. Something else just does not feel right."

"C'mon," Tony took the key out of her hand, partially ignoring her worry, "let's go check out our master suite."

Okay so that was chapter 8. I love it, but my opinion doesn't really count, does it? Review people, and speak YOUR opinions! Peace.