Hello my dear readers,

here I am with a new chapter to this story that has been for such a long time on hiatus. I have officially graduated from university, with honors ;p, and waiting to get into grad school...yes, I am way to scared to join the working world full time ;p...

I am not really sure about this chapter, and I must tell you that it has been re-written about two dozen times. I still somehow hate it, but I'll rather let you be the judges of my work.

Make me really happy and tell me what you think.

Enjoy...xoxo LT

P.S. Disclaimer...nope...don't own NCIS...I think by now you all know what I own :)

Spitfire

Alison sat down on the hard hospital chair, with a swift and liquid movement. She had felt the need to buy the disgusting beverage they called coffee so she could stay awake and watch over her beloved Alberto. He was resting, thanks to the large amount of medication the nurses had injected in his system, and for the first time in hours he looked at peace.

His hair was still a mess, and she could see dried blood tangled with his brown spiky hair, so she could do the only thing she was capable of doing, she tried to clean him up. Yet her struggles were in vain; the blood had dried and was firmly stuck to his hair and scalp. Her fingers gingerly traced his features, trying not to inflict any pain. His eyes were dark and swollen, while his nose was bandaged and his lips were cracked, but not bloody anymore. Her fingers grazed a cut and she was afraid she would wake him up, but Alberto continued to slumber and she felt relief wash over her.

Her mind worked in over drive and her only thought was that she could have lost him, never seen him again, and she had to fight back the tears that were slowly working their way up. Her mind then traveled to Ziva and the way she had stood up to Alberto's attackers. She did not want to admit it to herself, but she was thankful that Ziva had been there and handled the situation, because she know when it came to Alberto and Dani, she could not have been able to keep a cool head. Now she was worried that Ziva's involvement might cost her life, and that she, Alison, would be responsible somehow of something should happen to the daughter of the Deputy Director of Mossad.

Alison knew that time was running out on them and that the situation had become more complicated, but she couldn't find any solution to this problem. Her face was twisted in anger, pain and worry so she didn't notice Alberto stirring slightly. Only when he gently touched her hand did she notice that he was awake.

"Hey." He said

"Hey, back. How are you feeling?" she asked

"Honestly…like crap. But I'm glad to be alive and see you." He joked, giving her a half grin.

She smiled faintly leaning closer to him. It was moments like these, when he grinned that she remembered why she had fallen so hard for him.

"Why the long face? Did something happen?"He asked, a hint of concern creeping into his tiered voice.

She didn't say anything, just looked at his bruised wrists, kissing his left one tenderly. Her mind was racing once again, trying to shield him from what had happened as much as possible. She knew how close he and Tony were and she also knew that he was in no condition to start worrying or even worst do something stupid.

"Alison, what the hell happened? Is Dani ok? I can see you're freaked out." He asked again, shifting slightly and wincing in the process.

"Dani is fine my love and I am so glad to have you back Alberto. I don't know what I would have done, if anything would have happened to you." She said, burying her face into his chest, crying softly. She hated that she had become such a woman. Back in the day, when she was still a Mossad operative, she would have never let herself become weak or worst cry. Yet in front of this man, she was no longer a soldier, fighting for her country, she was a wife, a mother, a woman that desperately needed to make sure that he was there, alive and breathing.

"Sshhh! Don't cry babe, I'm fine. We are together again." He soothed, his hands drawing circles on her back. At this point he knew that something was wrong. Alison would have never behaved like this if something as not terribly wrong. At least he was content with the fact that his princess was fine, yet that didn't stop the bad feeling he was having.

"I know, but Tony, Gibbs and Ziva are not fine." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"Anthony? What's wrong with him?" he asked louder then intended. This he had not expected. He had been held captive for some time, but he couldn't see how he Tony ended up in this mess.

"Love, tell me what happened?" he demanded, his voice softer this time, seeing the distress in his wife's features.

Alison raised her head from his chest and gently told Alberto what had happened the past twenty-four hours. His face badly bruised but in the process of healing was unreadable and the silence stretched longer then she liked it.

"Alberto? Please, talk to me." She finally spoke, her voice a mere whisper.

"We need to fix this Alison. Tony…he's my buddy. I refuse to let him come to harm." He finally said.

"I know. You are in no condition to do anything, but I am. For this reason, I need to know everything. How they took you? Where they took you? I need to know if you remember voices or even conversations regarding your location." She explained, her eyes determined.

"I don't remember much. Have been drugged most of the time, but on rare occasions, I do remember two individuals arguing. I don't recall much, but I think one was male and the other female. The guy was asking her to put a stop to something, while she only yelled back. Most of the time the world was confusing and I couldn't distinguish if it was night or day, or even if I am still dead or alive. It was cold where they kept me. I had a bed made out of straw, I think, but they took me out of there a lot. Beat me up real good then pushed me back into the room. At one point there was a doctor treating some wounds, but I am not completely certain if that happened or I was just hallucinating. Everything was a blur, but at one point one of the voices, I think the female, told me that I need to pay because I…married you, or more precisely because you were Jewish." He said, his eyes meeting hers.

"Yet I still don't understand what this has to do with Tony, and how it will help him." He continued but a glint in his wife's eyes intrigued him.

"What do you know and not telling me, my super woman?" he asked, half serious, half joking.

"I may have a plan my love." She uttered and swiftly stood up, kissing his forehead and the storming out of the room, leaving Alberto confused.

It was dark, way to dark for his liking and his head hurt unbearably. "Good, at least I know I am alive. If I would have been dead, there is no way I could be in so much pain." He thought and focused on trying to move his limbs. His brain was giving the order, yet his body refused to cooperate. "Just great! Like a headache wasn't bad enough, now my extremities decided to take a vacation." He went on, now trying to open his eyes. Yet he quickly gave up on that task, when another wave of pain overcame him. He groaned and focused on moving his hands again, and to his surprise he could shift them slightly, although the process was tremendously unpleasant. His bruised fingers, somehow managed to feel the rope tied around his wrists. Carefully his fingers trailed around the rope trying to figure out if it had any weak points. He gasped when his brain registered and processed what his fingers were telling him. "Crap!Crap!Crap! He used a frigging constrictor knot on me." He though and continued to explore the knot. "Wonderful, it's even a double! Well DiNozzo say goodbye to your hands. You will never see them again" he trailed away and he wanted to scream, but he still had the impression he couldn't articulate one word. He tried to remember what Ziva had told him about the double constrictor knot. He remembered that she had told him that once tightened it is almost impossible to untie and the only way to somehow get rid of it would be cutting with a sharp object, but it would take some time. "Perfect! I'm pretty much screwed! I'm probably blind, tied up with an impossible knot, which is cutting into my flesh and numb from the waist down. FROM THE WAIST DOWN! This can't be good." He tried to calm himself down by tacking a few deep breaths. His first attempt managed to extract a moan out of him. His second attempt left him struggling for air. "Something is not ok in there." Still feeling the aftermath of his breathing exercise and the pounding in his head he tried to let his crippled senses roam free. He hoped that in this way he might get a feel for his location, maybe even open his eyes at one point, that in case he wasn't blind. Trying to stay optimistic he thought of being able to escape, find Gibbs and get back to Ziva. "ZIVA!" his mind yelled. Now he remembered; he could recall the distress in her voice when she yelled his name. He could picture the fear in her eyes when the Dragon pushed her towards the car. The chocked sound of her voice still echoed in his head. He tried his best not to panic, but he could feel the acid from his stomach rise filling his mouth. He managed to spit. "Ziva!" he weakly croaked. He had to find her, he had to break free and find her. He had to save her, before it would be too late. "Before she dies" his mind spat out. "No!" he yelled, his voice growing stronger, as the anger inside his chest. They would not touch his Ziva, he'll make sure of that.

Gathering all his courage he opened his eyes slowly. The dim light hurt his eyes and he felt the jolt of pain, traveling from his eyes to his brain, exploding and he could feel the nausea overcoming him. He chocked a sob back and closed his eyes, allowing them a few seconds of rest. He tried again, this time opening them only a little bit. When he felt that his eyes had adjusted enough and the nausea was gone, he opened them further. His breaths were rapid and painful, but in the end he was proud that he had managed to stay upright and not vomit or pass out from the pain.

Yet nothing prepared him for the sight that was unfolding in front of him. He closed his eyes, hoping it was a nightmare, and then opened them again, yet what he had seen a few seconds ago was still there. His Ziva was in front of him, her wrists chained together, while her ankles had received the same treatment. She was bruised, bloody, a female version of Jesus on the cross.

He felt his knees protest when he shifted his weight and stood on them. Somehow he tried to crawl towards her, see if she was breathing "She can't be dead! She isn't dead!"

He came closer to her and was about to turn to his side and shake her a little bit. His ears and brain registered the sound too late, his body not fast enough to duck. The lights went off again for agent DiNozzo and the last thing he saw before slipping into oblivion was Ziva's closed eyelids.