Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: You refuse to listen to me, refuse to work on anything other than what you want to work on. I have other stories that need to be continued, finished, or started, and yet, you continue to flit around like Tony does! Starting stories and then never finishing them, posting them only when you're happy with them, it doesn't matter to you what anyone else wants, or that I've got requests that I want to work on, it's all about you, you, you! Or have you forgotten about Wicked? And what about Eureka? Remember those? Huh? What kind of muse does that?

A/N: And thank you, Bratling, I forgot to add a time frame to this- this is set in... well, 2009. So four years have passed since Kate's death and Ziva's arrival to the team, in 2005. Sorry about that, I know the dates got confusing; could have sworn I made it clear, but then again, I was tired when I edited and posted this, so the dates must have escaped my notice.

Thanks to Bratling and Challenger King for reviewing 1.

2009

Ziva looked out the window of the rental car. She had never been to Boston, though she had heard Tim talk about it plenty- Penny had a townhouse in the older district of Boston, but spent so much time gallivanting about the country, that she was rarely home. Tim and Sarah had spent summers in Boston, going to Quincy Market and touring Lexington and Concord; it was so much a part of him that Ziva hoped he would be willing to show her around. She glanced at her boyfriend, reaching over and taking his hand; he met her gaze, giving her a soft smile and squeezing her hand. She leaned over to kiss him, but he pulled back, with a soft shake of his head. "Romeo's mountainside nom de plume, Zia." She sighed, glancing towards the rearview mirror, catching Gibbs's blue eyes watching them.

Not here, with Gibbs and Tony around.

A moment passed, before she nodded, instead, satisfying herself with bringing his hand to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. She loved their secret language, but hated using it whenever Gibbs or Tony were around. Sighing, she whispered,

"Café bench Seattle coast."

When we have a moment alone, then.

As they parked and got out, Ziva wasn't at all surprised to see the familiar markers of a crime scene- even in Boston, crime looked the same. What surprised her, and the rest of the team, was the medical examiner- or, what they all assumed was the medical examiner- kneeling beside the body. The woman was dressed in a heather grey pencil skirt and matching jacket; they could only faintly make out a cream-colored blouse beneath the open jacket, and black heels on her feet. Instead of being in appropriate attire- besides the apparent business casual- her hair was down, not up. Honey-blonde locks spilled over her shoulders and down her chest in soft curls that begged to be played with.

"Excuse me, sir," The team stopped, all turning to the officer that had stepped forward. He had soft, beautiful skin, that reminded anyone that looked at him of melting milk chocolate, and he looked younger than his years. His eyes were a beautiful golden brown, and he was of slight build, but something told the team that it wasn't his height, but his calm attitude that commanded attention in a room. "This is a crime scene-"

"We know." Gibbs flashed his badge. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. This is my team, Agent DiNozzo, Agent McGee, and Agent David, as well as our medical examiner, Dr. Mallard and his assistant, James Palmer. We got a call that this man is a marine, and therefore, that makes it our jurisdiction." He moved to step under the yellow tape, but the man spoke up.

"But he's in Boston-"

"Relax, Frost. I called NCIS." The other man turned to see Korsak, the head of the homicide division, as everyone joked, step forward. He removed a glove and held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Agent Gibbs. Come on."

"Ducky, Palmer, get started on the body-" Gibbs said, following the older man as the three agents also followed. The younger man, Frost, spoke up.

"But Korsak, Maura... Dr. Isles is already-" He kicked at a clump of dirt when he realized they weren't listening anymore, and stuck his hands on his hips before ducking under the tape and following. "Jane is going to have a field day." He muttered as he dashed off to join them. "Dr. Isles is already working on a time of death-"

"Appears to be between twenty-four and seventy-two hours ago." The examiner in question replied, removing the liver probe.

"That's nice to know, but I'd rather have my own medical examiner tell me the truth. I prefer his results to those of someone I don't even know." Gibbs turned to his team, as Ducky and Palmer set to work. "Tony, get statements. McGee, photos, Ziva, bag and tag." The three nodded and set to work, as the woman stood, removing her purple gloves.

"Well, that's very nice that you trust your medical examiner, but this is my body, Mr.-"

"Special Agent Gibbs." The Team Leader replied, turning back to the body as his team came back with the things they would need to collect all their evidence. She chuckled softly.

"Special Agent," As she spoke, he turned around to face her. His eyes widened, and he felt his breath catch. He wasn't the only one. "Gibbs."

Behind him, Tony and Tim stopped what they were doing, mouths hanging open in shock. Only Ziva seemed to remain unaffected by the woman in front of her; she glanced between her boyfriend and Tony and the examiner and back, confused. "Um... am I... missing something?"

But no one was listening to her. In a soft, startled voice, Gibbs whispered,

"Kate."