A/N Okay, so I think this is going to end up being something like a combo of the two options I gave you. It's going to be a multi chapter fic. But because I'm not creative enough to come up with new cases I'm not exactly sure how the storyline is going to go… I guess we'll find out together. Hope it lives up to all expectations. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely zero rights to NCIS; everything is the great Donald P. Bell's. *sigh*

Chapter one: Around the World

Israel

Ziva sung.

She sung because she knew if she didn't than the possibility of her death, as well as everyone else's in the building, would become a definite, instead of just a likelihood. And although she looked smoky and sexy and seductive, attractive and beautiful, as well as completely composed, inside she couldn't stop the rising disgust that left a bitter taste on her lips as they sprouted meaningless words.

She hated herself as she rubbed against Michael, her associate, who looked at her with disguised hostility and anger; due in no small part to her refusal to trust him, nor to recognize him as her partner, absolutely refusing him the title since her arrival.

But she continued, looking into his eyes and giving a coy, but completely false, smile, just trying to imagine that the eyes looking back at her were sparkling hazel and recalling the lopsided, cheeky grin that made her involuntarily laugh over and over.

She moved away after only a few moments. She should have taken longer, drawn it out a bit, make it look more convincing but she hated how his unfamiliar, harsh hand lay on her hip and the perverted leer that he threw her way.

After circling the room once people began moving away and her face creased in a worried frown, seeing Michael leave the bar and walk out the door, leaving her without back-up. She only had a second to register the suitcase that was left behind and as the building went up in flames she thought, regretfully, of only one thing.

Tony.

Washington D.C.

Gibbs marched into the bullpen with a coffee in hand, his face set in a grim scowl as he saw Langer messing with Lee and Keating doing something, no doubt, useless on McGee's computer.

He sat at his desk, not bothering to even mutter a good morning but noticed with satisfaction that Langer had given Lee the case file back with a fearful look at him and they now stood to attention, awaiting orders.

The new team had been welcomed by a whole new Gibbs. The older man had always been stern, unyielding and commanding but with the separation of the only people he trusted came a new boss; one who was even less lenient, less patient but more distant, unwilling to get attached. Keating was the only one to not notice the difference, as he was the only one out of the three that had not had previous interaction with the silver-haired coffee drinker.

Gibbs didn't get into it straight away, although he knew he should. He had just had another pointless argument with Vance about the reinstatement of his team… his real team. But yet again it had gotten him no where.

He knows that if they had a normal goodbye he probably wouldn't be trying so damn hard to get them back quickly, merely wait until it all unravels to his favor. But after holding a crying DiNozzo in his arms and feeling Ziva sob into his shoulder at the airport he felt as if he was their only hope, even though he usually avoided dramatics.

He sighed and looked up at the team, holding out his hand for the file now in Lee's hand, his face set with resignation... for now.

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Abby and McGee sat in her Lab, silently eating their lunch as the field agent tried to figure out what to say to the Goth whose eyes were trained on the Tony and Ziva brooms.

She sighed deeply, stood and marked a post-it before walking over and adding it to the wall counting the number of days the other half of their team had been gone.

Once she sat back down she met McGee's eyes and tried for a sad smile, so glad that at least he was still there with her. "Gibbs is gonna get them back, right Timmy?"

It almost broke his heart as she asked because a few months ago she would stride around her lab doing tests for various cases and she would say the same thing without doubt or question in her voice, eyes and stance radiating confidence and faith. Now she was reduced to a tiny speck of hope that she wasn't even sure she could trust; it had just been so long.

He sighed, unable to honestly answer her, kissed her on the cheek affectionately and left the lab in silence, hating himself because he couldn't be a comfort to her when he was barely holding himself together.

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Ducky sat by his desk in silence, looking about the cold, empty room with a heaved sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes while he awaited Mr. Palmers return.

His eyes drifted absentmindedly to the two, forgotten empty glasses on one corner of the desk, the last drops of alcohol stagnant in the bottom with just the faintest marks of fingerprints on their outsides.

His breath stuck in his throat as he remembered the heart warming and utterly beautiful scene he had stumbled upon that day and how it had given his heart so much hope, not just for the two people he cared for so dearly, but that the whole situation they had found themselves in might work itself out and for once a young couple who deserved it more than anyone, no matter how cliqued it was, would get their happy ending.

He had learnt once more that it was nothing but a naïve dream, one such as he hadn't experience for quite a few years. He just wished it hadn't proved to be hopeless.

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USS Ronald Reagan

Tony sat by the monitor in the dead of night, a number flashing on the screen in front of him and finger hovering over the button that would dial at its own will.

He swallowed convulsively and his fingers shook, tired eyes straining to stay open, begging for the sleep that had been denied them for almost a full 72 hours.

Cursing himself the moment he felt his resolve and strength fade he smashed down a different button that made the news play on the screen, her number disappearing back into the file he had saved it under his first day on his prison, though it had yet to be called.

He didn't know why he was so afraid to do it, to speak to her… or maybe it was that he was afraid she wouldn't pick up. He rubbed his hands over his aching face and closed his eyes to get some relief as they stung from being used for too long.

He absentmindedly let the sounds of the news rush over him, hoping it might lull him off to sleep. He couldn't help but wonder how they even got enough reception to keep the connection to the news channel but somehow they had managed it. He zoned out slightly as the reporters began talking about yet another bombing.

He tried to quiet his mind and pull it away from her, his thoughts going to the team and what they might be doing, although like most normal people they were probably sleeping… assuming the time difference wasn't too big between DC to wherever the hell he was.

Suddenly his ears latched on to a few choice words of the reporters as if he had selective hearing.

"Explosion… casualties… Israel… Mossad."

His eyes snapped open hurriedly and they scanned the screen frantically when one of his nightmares came to fruition.

Her beautiful face was unmistakable though her brown orbs were hidden beneath her unconscious eyelids and blood and dirt ran down one side. Her body was rushed by on a stretcher, her arms moving freely without the restraint of thought to keep them steady.

His hands grabbed and clenched the sides of the screen and he whispered her name, eyes becoming blurry with helpless tears as the camera followed her and yet her eyes did not open. His eyes scanned the screen, looking for some indication as to how old or new this report was but yet he didn't find any.

He couldn't stand the sight any longer. He lowered his shaking hands and got rid of the image, this time bringing up a different number hurriedly and not hesitating to push the call button.

He didn't bother wiping his face of the tear tracks he knew lay there as the familiar MTAC room of NCIS DC came up on screen. He knew there would be an answer as they kept someone there 24/7 in case of emergency calls.

"Sir?" One of the techies inquired as to not only what or who he needed but Tony assuming his appearance as well.

"Get me Agent Gibbs, NOW!"

The man on the other end didn't dare to argue and merely shot off another "yes sir" before going back to his seat and calling the aforementioned special agent on his cell.

He walked back to the centre of the room and looked up at the other man awkwardly. "He'll be up in just a minute sir."

Tony, no matter how distressed, couldn't stop the tiny chuckle that escaped him at that. It appeared he wasn't the only one skipping sleep and staying at work overnight. Even just that made him feel a little more connected to Gibbs once again and his chuckle died down just before the doors banged open with force and Gibbs rushed into the room, taking in DiNozzo's face in under a second, brows furrowing in concern.

"What's going on Tony?" He asked voice quieter than usual.

"Have you been watching the news?" Tony asked abruptly, still choking slightly on his words as he approached hysteria every time the scene ran through his head with startling and heart breaking realism.

Gibbs' brow furrowed further in confusion and he shifted on his feet no having expected that to come out of his former agent's mouth. "No."

"Have you talked to Ziva lately?"

"Tony what's-"

"Answer the question Gibbs!"

"No. Tony what the hell is going on?"

Tony's hands ran through his hair and Gibbs took a deep breath. It wasn't hard to see Tony was close to breaking and it wouldn't do either of them any good if he lost his temper now.

Tony rested his elbows on the table and groaned. "Call Mossad Gibbs, get Director David on the phone right now."

Not accustomed to taking orders Gibbs almost argued back, demanding an explanation but Tony looked back up at him and his eyes begged him. He motioned at the tech men to do so and everyone held their breaths as the Directors voice came through on the speakers.

"Director," Gibbs acknowledged with half faked respect. "Is Ziva with you?"

"What exactly is going on Agent Gibbs? I'm a busy man and don't have time for social calls." Gibbs scowled at the man in anger and repeated himself, finding it strange Tony had yet to speak up; rather his seemed to be holding his breath.

"I understand that sir but with all due respect it's urgent I speak to Ziva if she is with you."

There was a moment of silence and shuffling on the other end and then the sound of a phone being picked up and taken off speaker phone.

Tony let out a huge breath and the tiniest smile of hope and exhilaration started spreading across his face as he heard her voice.

"Gibbs? What is going on?"

There was silence for a moment as not even Gibbs had an answer to that question. He looked up to his former senior agent to see his face beginning to light up and he couldn't help but smile along with him, knowing the two of them had probably had no contact since they had left each other in the bullpen, both too stubborn to pick up the phone and dial the others number out of intense fear of what might or might not happen.

But then the silence ended and Gibbs swore he had never heard just one word spoken with so much emotion before.

Tony's voice was raspy with disbelief and happiness as he called out to her.

"Ziva?"

A/N So… eh. I don't really like this but I didn't really know how to start this story. I think I started off good and it got worse towards the end. Please review and tell me what you think. If you want I can start it a different way so tell me if this is okay or not. Sorry it's taken so long to post this up but I still can't guarantee really fast updates on this story. I'll try but other stuff might get in the way.

Also, this is unchecked so sorry for any major mistakes and I know its pretty short so sorry about that as well.

Please please review if you want me to still continue this story!

Thanks,

Metal.