A/N: I decided to write this when I found out one of my friends had run away from home. She is nothing like Ziva; it just prompted my crazy brain into writing mode.

They are in high school, by the way, at about fifteen or sixteen.

Ooh and happy birthday to me for today! Yaay! 14 TODAY =D And exams tomorrow *sigh*

Ziva balanced on the windowsill, glancing around the room in which she hadn't had to hide herself for three years. She sighed once, and then slipped silently out of the open window and landed lightly on the balls of her feet on the morning dew-wet grass below. She looked once again at the house that stored the misery and happiness of the last three years, and then disappeared off into the night.

Tony was slouched in his chair, waiting for his name to be called out in role call.

"Ziva David?" He looked up when there was no answer. Everyone knew Ziva, and everyone knew that she hadn't missed a day of school since her first day at Hartington Academy. It was as if she was never ill, or at least never showed it. Mr. Mallard, their form teacher, repeated her name. "Ziva? Does anyone know where Ziva is?"

"Probably bombing the White House." One of Tony's mates, Oli, piped up. Lots of people laughed, and Tony laughed with them. He didn't understand why everyone thought Ziva was a terrorist. It was simply a xenophobic and stereotypical thing, Ziva was Israeli so she would be accepted and was, of course, a terrorist.

"Oliver Mansfield, racism is not accepted in this school." Mr. Mallard warned him, drily.

"But we are meant to be truthful." Oli quipped, arousing more laughs form his classmates. Mr. Mallard glared at him, before proceeding with the rest of role call.

"Anthony DiNozzo?" Tony had got used to Mr. Mallard using his full first name, instead of just Tony.

"Yes, sir." He answered the Scotsman, who was not only their form teacher but also taught them Biology. Mr. Mallard finished off role call about ten minutes later, just as there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." Mr. Mallard called, and the door opened. It opened to reveal an official looking man with silver hair wearing a navy black jacket with "NCIS" emblazoned on it.

"I told you she was bombing the White House!" Oliver exclaimed, and Michael, who he was sitting next to, hit him to shut him up.

"Yes?" Mr. Mallard hinted.

"My name is Special Agent Gibbs. I need to speak to some of the class." Gibbs began. "Starting with… Abigail Sciuto, Timothy McGee and Anthony DiNozzo."

Tony glanced up. What the hell? What did he have to do with Ziva?

Abby, McGee and Tony followed Gibbs out of the classroom, receiving strange looks from all.

"Were you good friends with Miss David?" Gibbs asked the trio.

"Not really…" Abby began.

"No." Tony added.

"I didn't really know her." McGee supplied.

"Everyone thought she was a terrorist." Abby said angrily.

"I would have been more welcoming… only… it wasn't seen right for me to be hanging around Ziva." Tony sighed. "Maybe… maybe if I had she wouldn't have disappeared."

Gibbs was trying to control his anger at the obvious hate of the class at Ziva, even thought no one really knew her.

"Her parents discovered her missing in the middle of the night. No note, nothing. She left her mobile at home and had taken out $1,000 from her parent's bank account." Gibbs informed them of more of the story.

"Poor Ziva…" Abby stared at the floor.

"Is there no way to trace her?" McGee asked Gibbs, who shrugged.

"Not that easily, Tim. She has nothing we can easily trace. We traced the transaction of money, which she took out from a cash point in DC."

"So she might still be in DC?" Tony asked, beginning to be happier at the idea that Ziva might be returning. He would never admit to anyone, but he had always thought of Ziva as hot, and the air of mystery that continually surrounded her added to her strange influence over him.

"We really don't know, DiNozzo. Anything she said, anything you know, and anything you saw will help us." Gibbs said.

Tony thought back. When had he last heard Ziva speak?

"Surds." Mr. Chapman wrote the word on the interactive white board. "Who can explain what that means?"

McGee, Abby and Ziva put their hands up simultaneously. Tony wanted to put his hand up, but didn't want to be associated with the geeks. Contrary to popular opinion, he was clever, only it didn't do at all well for his popular image.

"Ziva." Mr. Chapman said. Ziva put her hand down.

"A surd is the square root of a number that is not a square number." She explained.

"She needs to know math so she can calculate the maximum people she can kill in one bombing." Josh, the boy Tony was sitting next to, said in a stage whisper. People laughed.

"Josh! That is enough!" Mr. Chapman ordered, feeling sorry for the Israeli girl. Although Tony couldn't see Ziva's face, he could imagine how much the insult had stung.

Math, Biology, Chemistry and History were the only subjects Ziva ever really spoke up in. None of the teachers in those lessons put up with the terrorist jokes, and often stuck up for the teen girl against some of the class bullies. Tony had also noticed that Ziva seemed to enjoy the lessons anyway.

"Religious Education was the lesson people most got at her in." McGee said, remembering.

"Other religions." Mr. Prestige said. "Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism. What can you tell me about them?"

"Jews are the stupidest and ugliest people ever." Oliver laughed at his not very funny joke. Mr. Prestige didn't say anything; everyone knew anyone of a different religion was considered inferior to him.

"Yeah, can't you tell? I mean, just look at Ziva!" Josh added nastily.

"Yeah." Abby and Tony agreed.

"I don't really know anything else…" Tony started, but Gibbs interrupted as the bell for morning lessons rang.

"Get along to your lessons, and be sure to get in contact if anything happens." Gibbs handed them each a small card which read:

NCIS Special Agent L.J. Gibbs


As the three teenagers disappeared out of the doors, Gibbs stared after them. Poor kids, he thought. Poor Ziva.

After ten million questions about Ziva's disappearance, Tony finally arrived home. He went straight upstairs, ignored as usual by his parents. He was just about to begin on his math homework when his phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered the call from a withheld number.

"Tony?" Ziva's voice wavered, and Tony gasped.


A/N: Oooh I love cliff-hangers! I hope you enjoyed the story! Please review and say what you think! I'll try to update soon, but I can't promise because I have exams all over the place!

Reviews, pretty please!