0730-Ziva steps off the elevator, and heads into Abby's lab. Abby's elbows rest on the stainless steel table, between the computer, and the mass spectrometer. Her head rests on top of her fists. She looks at Ziva as she enters the room.

"You look tired."

"I blame you."

"Where is your out of town guest?"

"Right behind me."

He walks in behind her, carrying two caf-pows. He sits them on the table, in front of Abby.

"I think that you and I are going to get along just fine."

He smiles, "I'm sure that we are, Abby."

"How did he know my name?"

"I told him," Ziva points out.

"Oh. Right."

He extends his hand, "Abby, I'm Caleb."

"Nice to meet you," she shakes his hand, and smiles, "What's in your bag?" she points to the messenger bag that is thrown over his shoulder.

"My laptop, and my i-pod. Just a few things to keep me entertained," he answers.

"I've got to get upstairs," Ziva starts backing out of the room.

"Ziva!"

"Yes, Abby?" she stops.

"I think that..."

"No. Maybe later," Ziva promises. She turns, and walks away.

When she arrives upstairs she drops her bag at her desk. She moves over towards her partner's desk. She finds him drooling on his keyboard.

"Hi, Gibbs," she says.

His head pops up, and he begins typing. "Boss..." he trails off, looking around the room, realizing that it's just the two of them.

"Why do you always do that to me?"

"Because it's fun."

"It's your fault that I fell asleep."

"You were here all night?"

"You gave me a task, and I completed it."

"What did you find out?"

"I sent all of the information to your email, so that you could read it, at your leisure."

"So why are you still here?"

"By the time I was done it was too late to go home."

"I see.

"So where are you from?" Abby questions.

"Tampa."

"Have you always lived there?"

"No. We moved there when I was three and a half."

"And before that?"

"I lived in Israel."

"I see. So how long have you known Ziva?"

"My whole life."

"And what is your connection to her?"

"Abby, are you interrogating me?"

"I'm a forensic scientist. I don't interrogate people."

"Why are you grilling me?"

"I'm just curious."

"If you want to know, you need to ask her."

"She won't let me."

"She will tell you, when she's ready."

"And until then?"

"Just know it will be worth it."

"So what do you like to do?"

"I like to do lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Go surfing, play football, and basketball, and baseball. I like to draw. I love music, and watching sports. I do karate, and box, and some other stuff, too. I skateboard, and..."

Abby cuts him off, "Do you play video games?"

"I'm not allowed."

"Not allowed?"

"It's complicated."

"I hacked into..."

She cuts him off, "You don't know how to hack."

"I have learned a thing or two from McGee."

"You hacked what?"

"I learned that your father knows."

"How could he possibly know?"

"I found emails, back and forth, from your mother."

"You can't be serious. My mother hates him."

"Then you're not going to like what I found out.""What did you find out?"

"He made sure that you got on to the Kedon unit at Mossad. She wanted you to have no choice, but to be away from..." he trails off.

"Why did you stop?"

"McGee, if I hacked into something..." he begins.

Ziva looks over at McGee's desk. She finds him putting his stuff down.

McGee cuts Tony off, "I hope that you were able to figure out how to keep from being traced."

"I borrowed that book you have in your desk."

"Tony the Dummy's guide to hacking?"

"McGee it was rude to name it that. The guy on the cover looks nothing like me."

"Is your sandwich good?"

Ziva nods.

"Are you eating like that, because there is something you're trying tot avoid talking about?"

She swallows. "I guess that I have a lot on my mind."

"Have you talked to Caleb?"

"He was having fun with Abby. He was too busy to talk to me."

"Are you afraid that someone is going to take him from you?"

"I... it has never been simple."

"Why don't you want to tell him about his father?"

"Because I don't like to talk about it, I don't even like to think about it."

"You're going to have to talk about it. You have to tell him."

"I don't know what to say to him. I have tried to protect him, and I just feel like I've failed him. I feel like I've failed him, in every way possible."

"Why do you say that?"

"Every choice I made was wrong."

"Not every choice."

"Yes, every choice. Starting with his father."

"What happened between the two of you, that you can't even talk about him?"

"I was young, and naive. I didn't want to live with my mother anymore. I thought that I could have a family of my own."

"You were fifteen."

"And I thought that he would want a family, but he was in college, he didn't want any part of it."

"Did you..."

"I told him. One night my mother and I had a blow out. I left the house, and got on a plane. I took one of Mossad's private jets, and I left."

"Where did you go?"

"Back to Miami, where it all started. He was at college there."

"When?"

2330 February 16th, 1998

She knocks at the door. She waits in the hallway, of the dorm. After several moments she hears shuffling. The door comes open. Chris stands at the door, staring at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Ziva you shouldn't have come."

"I am..."

"Come in here," he ushers her in. He closes the door behind her.

"I am having your baby."

"I got your letters."

"You never responded."

"I thought you would get the message."

"What message?"

"I don't want to do this. I don't want to have anything to do with this."

"I cannot do this on my own."

"Maybe you shouldn't do it at all."

"Why is it that you do not want this?"

"I am too young to be someone's parent. You are too young to be someone's parent. I don't want this. I don't want a baby. I don't want to be with you. I've never wanted to be with you."

"Then why were you?"

"Ziva... I don't expect you to understand. You're too young."

"I am too young? Everyone keeps saying that. Maybe I am too young for all of this, but it is happening, whether I want it to, or not."

"I think that you should go. Go home."

"I cannot go home, right now," she argues.

"If you need a ride, I can take you to the airport."

"I cannot go to the airport."

"Do you need money for a plane ticket? I'll give you money for a ticket, if you'll just go. It's late, and you should get home. It's a long flight."

"I cannot go tonight. I have been on a plane all day."

"I'll get you a place to stay, and I'll take you to the airport, in the morning."

"I cannot go back in the morning."

"Ziva you have to go home. You don't have a choice. Whatever you thought was going to happen, it's not going to happen. We're not going to be a happy little family. I don't want this. I don't want you, or your baby. You need to go."

"If that is what you want I will, but not right now."

"You can't stay here."

"I do not want to stay here."

"Then why won't you go home?"

"Because I think that I am in labor."

"Why would you get on a plane, and come here, if you thought that you were in labor?"

"I did not think that I was in labor, then."