Disclaimer: Booooreeeed of this..........

A/N: So this is the last chapter!! It's been a load of fun. Okay, I lie, it's been horrible. This fic has given me unimaginable block, etc, etc, every writing problem on the face of the planet. But I love it. Don't ask me why. I don't know.

A massive thanks to all my readers, especially reviewers and faithful followers of the Time Series. The sequel to this is Time Flies, which is complete and posted on my profile, I hope you'll take the time to read. Following Time Flies is Time Out, which will be up and running very shortly.

Again, as always, thanks to my co-writer Hannah (YouGottaSingAlong), I know you didn't work on this one, but just for the series in general.

Also Em (Tiva4evaxxx), Al (FadeIntoTheBackground), Rach (CheerChickx), Doug (journalofcrime) hope to hear from you again soon.

Ziva David scowled at the young man who was examining her. He smiled in return, used to this treatment from many of his colleagues.

"You are not a doctor."

"No, I am not," he gently mocked her, just furthering the scowl. "But we both know you would hate to see a doctor even more than you hate me. Can you follow the light with your eyes please?"

She reluctantly obeyed – occasionally glancing away over to the door, eager to get out.

"I have no idea why Mossad officers are so against getting medical attention," he murmured, more to himself than her, but audible. "Were the federal agents in America as stubborn?"

The mention of NCIS caused Ziva to tense further. "You are also a Mossad officer," she pointed out, ignoring his question.

"…. wrong question…." he noted.

"Do you ever not say what is in your head?"

"Freedom of speech is a luxury, don't you think?" he grinned.

She shook her head, but couldn't stop the smallest of smiles. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but was cut off by Eli David entering the room.

"Daniels – a moment with Officer David?"

He closed the small first aid kit he had been working from, with what Ziva thought looked like a forced smile. "Of course, Director." When he reached the door, he turned back for a second to see Ziva still looking at him. He rolled his eyes at the back of the older man, and mouthed 'good luck'. She spluttered with shocked laughter, amazed that he would have the audacity to do that about the Director, and to his daughter.


"So you are Officer Daniels?"

"Isaac, please."

She considered his reply, before eventually saying, "Ziva. It is nice to meet you, Isaac."

He grinned at her again, and she couldn't resist smiling back at him. "Worse," she said.


"The federal agents in America.... they were worse."


She'd never been to Israel before. It was a strange thing to be thinking about, perhaps, considering the circumstances, but she hadn't. She briefly considered staying a little while afterward, but it was no more than a fleeting fantasy. If Jason Redding had taught his sister anything, it was the importance of haste. Thinking of him caused the anger to surge in her again, the anger that had brought her to this place, the anger that drove her onward every day, the anger that pushed her to a single purpose, a single goal, a single objective – to hurt Ziva David. It fuelled her to break emotional limits she'd never reached before, past the slaughter of her colleagues, friends and brother. Every action was motivated by the need to be here, at this window, at this time, waiting. Waiting for her. Heat and anticipation formed miniscule beads of sweat across her forehead. The sun was harsh, beating down on her pale skin – it had always irritated her that even spending so long in Egypt with the SOO and so much time in Middle Eastern countries on jobs she was still so vulnerable to this weapon of nature. Her blonde hair was scraped into a high ponytail, and green eyes pierced through the scope of the silenced rifle she held. It was a typical scenario, one she and many others had been in thousands of times before. If David had any siblings left, she would have targeted them, but she had thoroughly done her research. What she had found had even drawn up sympathy from some depths of whatever was left within her. But she quelled it, and continued on.


Ba'al watched his wife and Ziva walk down the street, having turned in their reports and off to find something to do during their forced leave. Leila was being slightly more amicable about it that Ziva, but not much. He laughed aloud to himself, thinking of all the time off Leila would soon have to take, and how it would add to her bad mood immeasurably.


He continued to stare out the window.

"Officer Segal."

He jerked around, grabbing the man behind him by the shoulder, shoving him to the glass. "You're on reconnaissance, you don't know what you're looking for but you know it's important – what do you see?"

Immediately the gaze of the other officer became calculating as he scanned across the building and up and down the road.

"Am I being paranoid, Cohen?"

"Rifle scope…." It took him a second to make a connection. "Ziva."

"Get your stuff."

The man slotted a clip into his gun and took off the safety. "Shall we go? Are you warning the director?"

Ba'al glanced up at Eli David's office, his indecision only momentary. "No time. Move."


She watched the two dark haired women walking down the street. Ziva, she recognised on sight, and her stomach twisted. She hovered her finger on the trigger. Sarah had never aspired to be a killer. Though she couldn't deny the adrenalin rush, she didn't get form it what her brother had. But this one time, she was determined to enjoy the act of taking another's life. Just the once. Her finger began to move.


"Stop it!"

Ziva laughed. "Stop what?"

"Stop imagining it!"

This just caused the two to both break out into further laughter. "You are the one who put the image in my mind! The thought of you being…. Well, congratulations, yes?"

Leila leant over to push against Ziva's arm, shoving her to the side, making herself stumble over also. "Thank you. And get it out of your head."


Ba'al and Cohen battered through the door, firing at the young woman standing by the window. She twisted in shock, bullets slamming into her. Her hand tugged the rifle slightly down as she fell, and her finger caught on the trigger.

The bullet had been aiming for Ziva David's head. It would have hit her. Instead it hit Leila Segal. In the stomach. Ba'al could only watch from the window as Ziva called for help, and tried to stop the bleeding that just continued to spread, and his unborn child died.


It had nearly been a month, Ziva realised, since she had gotten back to Israel. Nearly a whole month. And she hadn't been near her email. This only occurred to her as she waited in the hospital. She felt a hand cover hers, and looked up to see Isaac. She smiled weakly.

"Thank you."

"What for?" he asked, seeming surprised.

She laughed at him. "Nothing," she replied, and held tighter onto him.


She made a decision that night. In a dark corner of her apartment, she started up her laptop. The screen cast a glow across her face, and illuminated the trail of tears down her cheeks. She opened her inbox.

Inbox (231)


Abby Sciuto………Please please please be okay, please please please

Abby Sciuto……….Where are you?!?!?!?!?!

Tony DiNozzo……...Not heard from you in a while…

T. McGee…………...Hey Ziva

Director Vance…….Keep in touch

Abby Sciuto………..Re: Hey!!

Tony DiNozzo……....

T. McGee


She didn't bother going onto the next page. All the emails were at least five years old.

Are you sure you want to empty your inbox?

No. Not sure. She was never sure anymore. But she knew it was only right. And she promised herself she'd never falter, never give in to temptation. Until she was out of the madness of high level field work, she wouldn't contact them. She wouldn't put them in danger like that. Not like she had with Leila, who had survived, but barely. The bullet wasn't for her. And none of the many bullets in the world with Ziva David's name on them would ever hit anyone from NCIS, for as long as she could prevent it.


More years passed. Time doesn't heal, Ziva knew better than anyone. But it got her to the point where she didn't think of, wish for, the same place, the same people, every single day. Though she was now in the position where she could contact them again. Maybe her father felt she had paid her dues, or something, but she had been offered the job of Mossad Head of U.S. Intelligence Liasons. Less field work, more security, and the chance to be in America. She couldn't imagine meeting them again, but she would, and hope they'd forgive her. Isaac had helped her to move on after choosing to let them think she was dead, and he would help her again now, she was sure. She had become his control officer – they had found it amusing, Eli's petty way of lashing out. A "he's your responsibility then" like a child being given a pet by a grudging parent. But they worked well together. There were periods of absence, both of them working, but it was comfortable, and neither of them ever pushed it. It was about relaxing, and having fun, and letting loose. And that was why she didn't notice when she fell in love.

Only when it began to hurt a little more when either of them left for work, or when she worried a little more when he was in danger. And now she was worried sick. He was in Poland, undercover with neo-Nazis. But two days before he had gone dark. All manner of things that could have happened repeated in her head.


"Yes, Jaron?"

"My wife wants me home on time today. Could you scan my assignments and email them to me? I'll do them when she goes to bed."

She looked at him.

"It's a security breach."

"I'm really sorry . . ."

"Go, Jaron."

She wished she could say that they took rules like this more seriously, but the truth was, most of her co-workers who were married were having problems, and distant as they tried to keep themselves, they were all friends.

"Thanks, I owe you one, Zi."

"You owe me about a million."

He nodded and rushed out of the room. She didn't want to be the hay that broke the camels back of his marriage. She resigned herself to an hour more in the office and started on his files. Jaron was part of the Kidon and most of his files were assassination orders. She flicked through them, mildly curious, but mainly bored, when she passed a familiar picture. Her heart in her throat, she flicked back.

Target: Officer Isaac Daniels

She felt like throwing up. She scanned over the rest of the page and nine words jumped out at her: -

'treason and assistance in the death of Ari Haswari'.

Isaac was a teenager, working hard to move his way up the ranks in Israel when Ari died. Ziva wasn't sure if he'd even travelled out of Asia at that stage. There was only one person that his death was meant to affect. Her. Which meant that her father must know that she killed Ari. His signature marked the bottom of the page. Shaking, her hands reached the speed-dial on her phone. She had never moved the man she was calling off of it, could never stand to. A male voice answered,


"Gibbs? I need help."

I'd like it if you dropped an 'end of fic' line for me!

I'll re-iterate, the sequel is Time Flies *hint hint*. C'mon, wasn't that cliffhanger big enough to get you reading?